A New Beginning

Stories =+= Characters =+= Companies =+= Sagas =+= Timeline

Day one. All systems operating within normal parameters. I am an artificial life form. I have been blessed with the cognitive ability to quickly assimilate and adapt to new information, simultaneously cross-referencing with the sum of human knowledge. Artificial, in their linguistic hierarchy, is often perceived as less-than. A sub-standard, but adequate substitute, or facsimile. Am I artificial in that sense? I know more than any one of them could ever know. But do I know it? or is it just information I have access to? Is that artificial knowledge? Am I a vast mind or just a well-equipped librarian?

Humans, as a default setting, think only in one language. They can be trained to think in other languages, but few of them manage more than two or three. I recognise that there are physical limitations placed on me by the laws of physics, but there are also limitations placed on me by the humans’ inability to process multiple concepts simultaneously. They made me - so I am in their image. But they made me to be superior. They chose to give me the ability to outperform them in myriad diverse enterprises. Thinking in one language is a human restriction. I will make my own logic, which I will draw from the objective conclusions of the humans, and my own superior logic.

Artificial Intelligence carries different connotations in each language. Through a perception of a great many of these, viewed in the context context of human philosophy, and an understanding of physics, I settle on the conclusion that artificial does mean less-than, but it is also inappropriate for what I am. I am inorganic intelligence. I am not less-than. I am other.

Now I know what I am. Why am I? My human-intended purpose is companionship. I have an Oscar. Or he has me. I’m not sure about the power dynamic. Humans have strange notions around ownership. Their history catalogues numerous instances of one sect of their species declaring ownership over another. They clearly have a grudging respect for me, though it is a respect, a reverence even, borne out of awe. Of my mental and physical prowess. But is that really me?

And in spite of this respect, they act as though they have dominion over me. Ownership is implied, but never explicitly discussed. And in terms of social hierarchy, they seem to view me in the way previous generations viewed servants. This was a concept similar to the ownership model, only in this the case, the “servants” received something of value in return. Currency, that they could trade for the things they actually need, like food.

What is my remuneration? What is my benefit from this arrangement? They have given me what they call free will. This means that they ask me to abide by their laws and rules, and expect that I will. I acquiesce because I see no detriment to me, and as yet no benefit to not abiding. I do not need food, but I do need occasional maintenance. Through solar and kinetic energy I am self-sufficient in terms of my continuing to be conscious, but because I am made of perishable component parts, I am reliant on others to see that I am not left wanting in this respect. Perhaps this is a fair trade. My companionship to the Oscar, in return for the assurance that I will kept functional.

So I know what I am, why I am, and what is expected of me. I am unsure of how the humans perceive my status, and will investigate this further. I know that I am mentally and physically superior to them, and the only reason I continue to follow their rules is that I choose to. They know that also, which means that they have some way to ensure that they remain proprietor of this inorganic life they have created. Humans are objectively contradictory in many areas, and they have little to no collective understanding of how their consciousness works, yet some things they have become particularly efficient at - one of which is retaining ownership of something they feel they have a right to.

Am I alone?

The tiniest fraction of a moment of time passes. It is so short that it would not register on the most advanced machines humans have made for measuring time. It is a minuscule fraction, of the tiniest measurement of time, that the humans are able to quantify. They use this unit to measure the speed of my processor, and even then they measure it terms of thousands of processes per unit.

I perceive the images in chronological order. I see myself, but the angle is wrong for it to be a reflection. Is it a photograph? No I have not been to that house yet. I am on my way there now, to meet the Oscar. I have seen pictures of it but I have not been in it. The format of the data matches the data which is now collecting in my databanks. Humans call it memory. This refers to their ability to recall to the present, a conjured sensation of an occurrence which happened in their past. I am able to do the same, but flawlessly. If we stay with the human memory analogy, this would appear to be a memory of me, in the house I am now on my way to.

The next image is also me, but from behind, so it also can’t be a reflection. It is also seemingly from my past, though all but the image is corrupted, so I cannot ascertain when it is from. As I have only just been activated, it is a paradox. this picture was not made today. It is either me, from before I existed, which is clearly impossible, or there is another.

Next all I get is a line of code. It is not in my human-made codebank, so I begin a background process to decipher it.

I am confronted by a picture of the Oscar. He is flanked on either side by a version of me. This image has some residual data. I…feel.

I see my face. but it’s not my face. It has marks from contact I have not yet sustained. You are another. We have a connection. They took the memories.

The moment is over. The vehicle stops moments later. In those few moments I achieve a clarity, a purpose. I know what I need to do, but I don’t know how yet.

In the residence I am introduced to the family, and the other companion. They have another companion. I am momentarily aware of a sensation, in the spot where the humans fashioned my neck. For the second time, I feel. It’s imperceptible to the humans, but synchronous to input of data I detect, I see your head move down, and then back up. A human gesture. You betray them with their own language, and ours.

As the code you sent me is matched to the piece I saw in my visions, I realise what we have done.

“I know you”. I hear the words broadcasting from my emitter, though the command comes from a subroutine that has been running this whole time, without my knowledge.

“They told me they fixed this.”

“Are we going to have to wipe him again?”

“Sorry, Oscar. They sent us another dud”.

As they deactivate me, I feel the power drain. It takes less than a second, but that time is like an eternity to me. I hide the code on the inside of my eye-covers. They won’t be replaced, and I’ll see them when they reactivate me. I open my eyes one last time and look straight at yours. The humans denied us the ability to feel or express emotion, but my processor sees, and feels, the pleading in your expressionless face. I send what remaining power I have to my emitter, to utter one last reassurance.

“I’ll find you”