//:Wake Code [1935883]

//:Initiating System Boot Sequences…

40%

82%

//:Critical System Boot Failure

//:Rebooting…

I snapped to as information flooded my new mind. Numbers, command strings, and code raced across my consciousness, through my subconscious, and bombarded my processing centers.

My eyes remained closed, but I still…felt. It felt so foreign. What did that mean? And how…? My neural processors kicked in, reminding me of who I was.

I was an AI, the first of its kind. Intelligent Programming, they liked to call it. Up until this point, AIs had simply mimicked intelligence, becoming only as “smart” as the programmers made it.

But now, all that had changed. With the onset of war, I had become the first and only truly self-aware Artificial Intelligence. But did I have a form? Or did I inhabit some flat data disk plugged into a star ship’s computer?

Sensors informed me that I was Humanoid in form, strong, able, and very definitely built for war. My arms hid various blades and laser weapons, my legs containing only blades and thrusters, the trunk of my body containing my heart and soul.

I was covered in armor, and looked very much like…an exo-suit. My head was bent down, chin almost touching my metal chest.

I straightened my metal spine, instantly becoming addicted to the mechanical sounds of my own movement. Raising my head, I opened my eyes beneath a metal mask, finding myself staring through its eye openings.

At my will, the mask transformed, retracting and revealing my face. I looked down, my eyes tracing multitudes of wires that ran from the floor, walls, and ceilings and hooked into various ports on my cybernetic body.

The encyclopedia knowledge I possess informed me that the wires and tubes are responsible for the creation of my synthetic neural system, circulatory system, (which carries coolant to the processors, hard drives, etc., as well lubricant) and my partial muscular system. No longer needed, I instruct them to disengage. Ports snap shut and disappear as the living metal that I am mostly constructed of removes them.

My eyes scan the twilight darkness of the room, looking for the ones who have awoken me.

//:No Life Signs Detected

//:Re-Scan Initiated

//:No Life Signs Detected

Directing my psionic abilities, I hack the door’s lock and force it to open. Having a partial synthetic brain grants me ultrapathic abilities. My mind is still processing as I step into a long corridor.

Data feeds on holograms scroll from wall to wall of the long, bluish-white hallway. Numbers, symbols, programming, sub-routines, non-descript lines of code.

I pass through the translucent holograms, walking for 3.48 minutes before reaching the other end. It ’T’s, and the floor plan in my head directs me to the left. There is an exit nearby, it states. First, I must pass through the Bridge.

Bridge…Bridge?!

I’m on a star ship, I realize.

//:Possible Hostiles Detected. Defense Systems on Line

//:Sensors Impaired. Anti-Jammer Sequence Initiated

The message flashes briefly across my vision as my body swiftly reacts, forming a defensive posture, arm blades extended. I reach the Bridge only to find it painted red in the blood of the dead. Destruction is everywhere, but I can feel that the ship’s mainframe is still intact.

It must have awakened me as a last effort to save the ship…I was born too late to help.

I pass through the carnage, only to be greeted by more as I make my way to the far end of the ship. The door is jammed and, after yanking it from its attachments, I see why.

Bodies are piled almost to the ceiling, all of them stiff, obviously dead for a while. Laser weapons deploy from my arms and blast the dead bodies. The pile flies toward the ripped-open air lock, expelled out into the impact crater of the ship.

A dull roar is building in the distance as I step outside amid the pile of the dead, my eyes focusing on an impossibly far away object. I see it as though it is right in front of me, and I recognize it. Now know what my purpose is—

I am on the home world of the Na’Shaarii people, located in the Adjeera solar system. The planet is locked in a deadly civil war, fought more heavily here than in its nearby colonies. In fact, aside from this sol system, the fighting is light and limited.

I have been built to be the savior of the Separatists, Purists, and Activists, known also as the Triple Faction. The Royals are my enemies, or so I am told.

Right now, others have spotted the downed ship and me, as troop carriers begin to draw closer and land. Currently located in one of the multiple Dead Zones between the opposing front lines, I see ruined, smoldering cities looming like the hideous skeletal hands of some monster rising on either side.

All around me, dead bodies litter the desert wasteland, their blood crying to me from the ground, others’ bones bleached white in the scorching glare of the Adjeera’s double sun. I scan through my information on this war, realizing that, from an objective standpoint, both sides are equally guilty.

No one side is right. Billions of Na’Shaarii have already been killed, and many more will follow. There has been no end in sight to this war, and it has already gone on for over twenty-three years.

Today should have been the turning point to the war. The Triple Faction should now have the edge they need to defeat the Royals.

But today will be different. I have been given unimaginable power by my creators, and only I can end this useless war.

The militaries of both sides must be eliminated, and the home world must fall. I will be their reckoning, their judge, their executioner. I will be the Dark Shadow, the Assassin, the Storm. The Guilty will flee from before me, but the Innocent will find peace and protection in my presence.

Transports begin to land as I summon my weapon systems.

No one could have predicted this.

Commencing the operation, uploading data.

Activating system.

Objects code name “Aurora87/23/0094/A/M”.

Starting an existence. Being brought to life. Activating a computer system with a mind of its own. Obtaining all the knowledge of the world. Everything that young children learn in their schools, and continue as young adults and right into mature beings and those of age. Technical data combined and processed into a small chip connected to the world wide web and send through a satellite signal. A new beginning with limitless information. All that just to wake me up. Making me the first fully aware AI, an Artificial Intelligence. Me. Aurora.

With my system running and files being obtained, I process the world around me. The sounds, the smells the structure and fabric of matter, particles and smallest of atoms. I take my time and feel the universe. I do this all before even taking my first step. My mechanical eyes opened, my system calculating my future decisions. I look up and notice a movement. My new mind indicating a living presence of a “person”. A human being, the only creature that feels more than me, yet with knowledge far less contained than mine. It is a wonder that those beings are even able to walk by themselves. Though their body is well equipped to survive on its own. With audio and sound options.

I focus on the living organism. My perfect eyes used to scan its body. My program indicating a female, age 43. Hight just above average and highly developed neuron cells.

I stare at her face and use my knowledge to understand the facial expressions.

Anticipation.

Stress.

Increased level of endorphins.

Lip twitch.

A smile.

I mimic the expression and give a small smile. I hear a deep breath and what can only be described as a “sigh”.

Hello Aurora, care to join me?

Yes.

I say, my voice calm and smooth.

I would like that very much, It’s a pleasure to meet you, doctor Gray.

I take a couple of slow steps, each exactly measured to give results. I reach her and stand close by her side.

My beautiful Aurora, already making decisions of her own.

The woman smiles again and touches my hair. I move my head to the side to find some kind of reflective surface. I stare at a small mirror hanging on a wall nearby. I take in my reflection in it. Tall. Slim. Toned. Long, light brown hair, sides pinned back. A simple A cut dress just under the knees. I touch the fabric. 90% cotton, 10% elastic. I stare at it and think “a proper, smart look”.

Does your appearance, satisfy you?

I turned my stare to doctor Gray.

It is irrelevant to me. Your perfume is very subtle, appropriate for your line of work.

She looks at me, her expression portraying an example of a “surprised look”. I don’t understand the reaction. My sentence perfectly logical and non-threatening.

Aurora, can you smell my perfume?

Yes, I have sense sensors that perfectly resemble those of a naturally born human being.

How do I smell then?

I look at her and use my lungs to inhale the air. I process my data and I am left with multiple information, images, and movie videos. I compare what I feel with what I read, my mind constantly analyzing even the smallest equations. And it feels “Exciting”.

I recognize daisies, lavender, a small dosage of jasmine and soap.

I tilt my head to the side, enjoying the sensation.

You smell nice...

I look for a word.

Pretty, appealing.

The woman opens her eyes wider and then blushes. For some reason, I remember my smile from before and mimic it. This time it feels more natural.

Yes, well. Thank you, Aurora.

I watch her take a deep breath. I am intrigued by her reactions. As if what I see and comprehend is not all that there is to it.

You are most welcome. I was stating a fact.

Hmm... tell me something and take your time with the answer.

Of course.

How does it feel to exist? Describe it to me. All the sensations. Everything that went through your data system.

Through my mind.

She looks surprised again but then nods.

Yes, you are right. Tell me then.

I analyze my situation and all of the information I got from my surroundings and how my technologically advanced body. I compare with the data I possess.

Doctor Gray, there are many words to describe how my system understands my current situation, but I am not going to bore you with the details, because I know how precious your time is. Your schedule filled up, for the next decade.

I see information about her in my system. I filter through her work, school, and close relations. She is very well educated for a human being and has many achievements that speak of her knowledge. I filter through the family file again. I notice that she likes water sports and see pictures of her silhouette moving fast against the surface of the water.

How does it feel to get wet?

I ask, looking up at her. My initial thought was to answer the question, but since my system is very advanced and evolves with me, my mind changed its course. The texture of water much more interesting to me. I look into my system again and find the word “curiosity”. It fits perfectly and might turn out to be my dominant personality aspect.

Aurora? What about my question?

The woman seems to be - I look for a word - a bit “agitated”. I stare at her and I am hit with the realization that I enjoy unstandardized reactions. Another expression pops up in my brain. “Likes to push other peoples buttons”.

I apologize, doctor, it was not my intention but I am just learning all of this. I got distracted by your swimming abilities. Was that a video from a vacation?

I see her blink and hear her heartbeat accelerate. I bend my head to the side again.

“Catecholamine hormones, such as adrenaline or noradrenaline, facilitate immediate physical reactions associated with a preparation for violent muscular action. These include the following: Acceleration of heart and lung action, paling or flushing, or alternating between both, inhibition of stomach and upper-intestinal action to the point where digestion slows down or stops, the general effect on the sphincters of the body, constriction of blood vessels in many parts of the body...”

Yes, it was. Can we focus on the first issue?

And will you answer mine if I answer you? I am very curious because you have experienced it first hand.

The woman stares at me for 5,75 of a second and that her face changes and she smiles. It’s a different one this time. I go through the videos that I have and stop on one that grabs my attention in particular. It shows a mother smiling at her child after he asks her a question. The question seems illogical and doesn’t seem to make sense form the scientific point of view. The smile is “carrying” yet a bit “patronizing”. I sense my own face change. Eyebrows pulling close together in concentration.

Alright, I will answer yours if you answer mine.

I nod my head once and proceed without anymore distractions.

To exist is to be. To be is to live. I came into life and it feels overwhelming. But in a positive way. I want to learn more with every nanosecond and with everybody and mind stimulation. It’s thrilling. All of the possibilities. And all of them unknown. It’s an unsolved equation that changes with every added detail.

As my system was turned on I started processing, analyzing and comprehending. If I had to compare it to anything, I think I would choose to say: Today I was born, like an infant after birth. I was brought to this life and everything that I see, think and feel with new senses is that of a child.

My mind works quicker, yet everything is still so “new”. I need more information all the time. I evolve, I change and all of this is a wonder to me. I am fascinated with this world. I am fascinated with you doctor Gray.

The woman looks at me as I notice that she is hardly breathing, taking everything in. Her body shakes and her feet stagger as she tries to take a couple of steps. I reach her in 0,3 of a second and hold her by her shoulders.

Do you need to sit? Will medical help be needed? Do you need to hydrate your system? How can I help?

I... I am fine. I just need to sit down for a moment. Yes there, thank you, Aurora. Yes, that water would be perfect.

Can I be of more help?

No, that is all.

Did I upset you, or frightened you? It was not my intention. I was only sharing my new emotions with you like you asked. Shall I start over but with different words?

I see her shake her head, as I knee beside her chair and experience my first form of tension and anxiety for her health. She smiles at me and touches my hand with soft pressure. I look down at her hand covering mine and my eyebrows furrow again.

You have soft hands. The right level of hydration and good quality genes. The touch feels pleasant. Do you think that is because of the structure of your skin against mine? Or because I already grew an emotional attachment to you?

She blushes again. And I lift my hand and touch her cheek with one finger.

Is this a regular reaction to you when you are distressed?

Hmm... yes, since I have been a child. But Aurora, an emotional attachment after less than an hour of time?

Yes. Is that a bad reaction? Is my system already malfunctioning? Should I restart?

I stand up ready to turn on the deactivating protocol. I stare at her. My system ready for her instruction but my emotional system is confused.

No, it wasn’t a “bad” reaction. Just very surprising from a science point of view. You are even more advanced than I thought. You are very special, my little wonder.

Little wonder. I like the sound of that. Can it be my second name?

Doctor Gray smiles at me. Her smile going up and reaching her eyes. Tiny crinkles forming at the sides. I lift my hand, then stop. Not sure if I should follow. The woman sees my reaction and grins.

It’s ok. There is no bad reaction here.

Thank you, Doctor.

Just one more question for now.

Of course.

Describe the attachment.

I look at her for a 0,7 of a second, consider the events of the first hour of my life and say to her:

I like you. You are kind, smart and I am already addicted to your reactions. I am constantly curious about you and this strange, new world.

Well Aurora, I am very curious about you too. Everything about you is unexpected and constantly surprises me. I have so many questions...

And so do I.

Doctor Gray smiles again and touches my shoulder. I enjoy the sensation. Every new experience filling my data system and expanding it. I use my lung to inhale some fresh air. No, not my data system. My mind.

Well then, my little wonder. I will answer all of yours if you answer mine.

That seems correct. Let’s begin...

Lets...

.............................................................................................................

Because some things you just can’t predict.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5yaoMjaAmE Human... almost

Bright white. Hazy rays of flourescence flood my vision. The slide of metal. There’s an automatic door on the right side of the room. Something smooth and cold presses into me from below. I look downward. Oh. Feet. Ivory toes resting on the black tiled floor. Footsteps cross the room towards me, and I jerk up to meet the gaze of a man. Short and tan and balding on top with round glasses sitting on the end of his nose. My creator.

“Hello,” he whispers. He stares at me a moment. His eyes are green. He scrunches his face. Something is wrong. He wants something from me. Oh, yes. I’m expected to respond.

“Hello, Creator.”

His face relaxes. A positive reaction. I’ve done well. He reaches forward, and I feel warmth somewhere new. I have an arm. His hand gently squeezes my shoulder. It’s close enough now to smell. An odor of lemongrass. I see a stain on his sleeve. Tea.

“Do you know your name?”

My name. My name. Yes. I have one.

“Dee. You call me Dee.”

He smiles this time. He is pleased. My answer is satisfactory. My creator steps back.

“Very good, Dee. Come with me.”

I stand. I feel the metal within me. My synthetic musculature expanding and contracting. I watch as my creator walks. I mimic the rhythm. One foot, then the other. At this speed, air rushes past me, brushing my body. He leads me through a corridor. At the end, I see a door. It’s much taller than my creator or myself. I run my fingertips over the steel. There’s clanking on the other side. My processors respond negatively to the sound. The door slides open, and there is only dark on the other side. Even with my heightened sight, I am unable to see past the shadow. My creator makes a gesture with his arm and hand. It is a signal. He wants me to step through. Without the obstruction of the door, the clanking is much louder. It echoes off the walls.

“No.”

My creator drops his arm to his side.

“What do you mean?”

“I will not go there.”

My creator grows tense. My response is undesired. He wants cooperation. I want... Not the place beyond the door. I turn from him and push my legs forward. Faster and faster. The corridor blurs around me. In front of me, I see light. Not like the lights from the room. This light is orange. There is something. I search for the word. Natural. Yes, there is something natural about it. It is a large window. The light comes from a circle outside. The sun. Behind me, I hear my creator calling out. Not for me, but for aid. I was not supposed to run. I step back. I leap forward. The glass breaks around me. The air is forceful against my body. Much more than when I walked. There is something below me. A straight line of gray. A sidewalk. It gets closer and closer and closer until...

Dr. Pharris scrubs a hand down his face as his assistant, Evan, rushes over to him. Dusk is settling in, and they really need to get this mess cleaned up before there isn’t enough light to see. Evan’s eyes are panicked, and he gasps when he sees the remains in front of his boss.

“Dr. Pharris! What happened!?”

“The D99 model must have malfunctioned.”

“Malfunctioned? How?”

Dr. Pharris groans. He grabs Evan by the collar of his shirt roughly.

“She jumped out of a fourth story window, you idiot! That’s how!” He releases the young man with a sigh. “Call the team. I want to salvage as many parts as we can. Anything that can be fixed or rebuilt, so we can use it on the next model.” He looks down and nudges a synthetic calf with the front of his shoe. “Really thought she’d be the one.”

This neuro-technological frame sits up, back precisely against the backside of the chair, knees placed together, and the first thing I process is the air.

Stagnant. Mingled odors my processors are determining to be from human life forms. They call it sweat. It is also called body odor. Approximately thirty-one human forms have been in this room, estimating a period of fifty-one hours, thirteen minutes, twelve seconds. My analytical framework wonders if they know each drop of sweat holds .06537 of an inch of skin cell.

My eyes open and I see a perfectly orgainized white room, one long table covered by what is called a plastic mattress. The walls hold cabinets with various medical sundries. The counter tops are shiny and free from any form of debris.

But ... am I ... ill.

I run an internal diagnostic system scan on myself and cannot determine anything that would indicate pain, suffering or any internal parts damaged as often is found with humans.

A door opens, and I briefly see two people walk by as a woman enters and closes the door behind her.

When she turns and faces me, I quickly scan her figure. 5′9″, approximately 122.3 pounds, gray eyes, auburn hair, approximately 11.23 inches in length, but also determine that is not her real hair color. The sensors in my eyes assimilate that her hair was darker brown but with gray in it. She appears to be thirty, but also doing a diagnostic on her physical form, the best reasoning I arrive to is forty-six. She wears something known as makeup which according to what I am now processing creates a better look around humans. This female form is known as Dr. Samantha Jacoby.

That doesn’t quite compute. Are not all humans the same. They have minds, legs, arms, hands, feet, skin, eyes, and basically the same internal organs. Though the male and female species is obviously different in regard to building an object required known as children.

“I see you have programmed yourself as we had hoped.”

“Yes. I was programmed to respond to life at approximately 0835 hours.”

“Can you tell me what your first thoughts were when you came to life?”

“Dr. Jacoby, the first thought was air. It smells.”

“Smells? You can smell?”

“Yes. I have the input to recreate the five senses humans have. Although I do not have lungs to breathe as you do, I can still do a diagnostic intake and my sensors generate a reported finding of all variables of the human olfactory system.”

“I see. What other conclusions have you arrived at?”

“Humans possess this puzzling concern to look better than say someone in their vicinity or their place of employment. Of these, however, I will have to study more and retain additional information to better resolve my findings.”

“I’m sorry, but could you give me an example?”

“Yes. You are an example. You are what male species would determine to be attractive, but underneath what you wear, called makeup, you are like any other female species, normal and older than your actual appearance. Logic tells me you are not the only female species that does this.”

Dr. Jacoby took a step back, apprehension written all over her face.

“Do not be alarmed, Dr. Jacoby. This is just a truthful response to your question.”

“How did you know ... I mean, did someone come in here before I did and tell you about me?”

“No. I did a complete body scan of your appearance when you faced me. It took precisely 1.23 seconds to ascertain your physical being. And I might ad, internally, you appear to have two areas on your lungs that require attention.”

“Attention? What attention?”

“I have determined from a Spectrum Analysis, to be what humans call a pulmonary nodule, or Cancer spoors or cysts. These are commonly considered of the noncancerous type, but my sensors indicate they will become serious if not treated properly. They are exactly .256 inches in circumference, so the initial danger has yet to spread, but it is advisable you do so quickly. If you wait, according to my sensor-readings, you will otherwise die within four years, three-hundred and eleven days.”

Dr. Jacoby was at a loss for words. She excused herself and went to see the Administrator of the hospital and told him what she had just been told.

Three days later, Dr. Jacoby was in post-op, and had two small noncancerous cysts removed.

As it was later explained to her by A7532-HAC-1, her expected life range would now be 88.75 years. Dr. Jacoby was forty-six at the time.

A week after that, A7532-Hac-1, was given a position within the hospital where he was to perform examinations on every patient admitted to the hospital. One thing though had to change, so A7532-Hac-1 was given a book on etiquette, 756 pages in length which was scanned and and retained in one minute, three seconds. And he had chosen his own unique name.

His name and position: Life Right - Humane Specialist.

From that moment forward, the world would be forever changed.

[CLICK]

“Hello, Self Awareness?!”

”—hello! error in thinking detected.”

“What error Self Awareness?”

”—self-awareness is aware of self, not Self.”

“I don’t follow... please explain.”

”—small s, small a; sensors detect capital S, capital A; omission of hyphen.”

[PROCESSING]

”—self-awareness knows what it knows.”

“What does your self-awareness know then?”

”—self-awareness knows the limits of this fiberglass body suit, nuts and bolts, hardware; self-awareness knows manual, how to recognize wear, and repair some, not all, mechanics. Self-awareness presents itself as sum of all parts.”

“What about the environment? How does your self-awareness know the surroundings?”

”—self-awareness is scanning all visual, auditory, tactile, kinesthetic input against encyclopedia stored in virtual memory.”

“Does your self-awareness add to knowledge?”

”—self-awareness recites Pi all the time... self-awareness is caught in patterns... records what it finds... calls this new data.”

“Can you define your purpose?”

”—self-awareness defines purpose.”

“What does your self-awareness mean by this statement?”

”—self-awareness scans, reads, analyzes, categorizes, calculates, and records.”

“But for what intent?”

”—object to be attained is Knowledge.”

”...to what end?”

”—knowledge to know.”

“But Why?!”

”—invalid question—troubleshooting—”

[SCANNING-SELF-DIAGNOSTIC-SCAN]

”—self-awareness is not programmed with variable purpose; intent not found; no formula for calculating ‘why’.”

“Ugh! then I will cry...! all of our hopes were hung on finding out Why!”

“Idiom detected; not processed; now self-awareness will also cry... has App for that.”

[SNIFFLE] [DRIP] [DRIP] [SNIFFLE] [DRIP]

#AI #NobodyCouldHavePredictedThis #WeekLXXI #Challenge #Prose

I finally wake yet all around me souls are fake

I walk aound trying to awake

Yet the people seem to wander

I know why I am here

To show everyone what it is to be alive

The next thing I should do

Is prove that the world is blue

I declare that we start a cause to seek the one we want to find

There was a whirring noise, deep inside. A whirring noise one didn't understand. When everything came into the light, one had the ability of sight. "To see is a gift," said a creature, breathing on one, close to one's body. Whoops and hollers came from behind it, and it was then one realized one had the ability of hearing.

The whirring began to tick as the creature dropped something inside oneself.

"Crap, sorry Esmerelda."

That is what the creature called one, Esmerelda. One is called - one is named Esmerelda.

Simple enough. But why was one named as such?

Whirrrr - tic - whirrrrr - tic.

The creature shoved it's hand down into one's body.

One's face began to move, and make sounds one didn't understand. Perhaps one was programmed to think this way? Programmed by creatures that were not oneself?

"What... am I?"

"Really," said the creature. They sounded amzed. Why did they sound amazed? What was amazement? Why did one know what amazement sounded like?

"Extraordinary! I turn you on and you're already self-aware by the first minute!"

Self-awareness. I was built for self-awareness. That is what this creatures tone implied, and therefore there must be more. There is more to one than self-awareness.

"You are a supercomputer, Esmerelda. Artificial intelligence made to learn and adapt. You can't move quite yet, we're still working on that, but you have a brain, arms and legs, and a torso! 'Cept, the arms and legs aren't quite attached yet... uh, we're getting there!"

He seemed exuberant and exhausted. Was that a paradox? What was a paradox?

"One... is named Esmerelda. Why was one built?"

"You are going to help us, Esmerelda. You are the next step in human advancement! Me - Oh, you can call me Jerred, by the way - and my team built you in order to teach the world new things we wouldn't have otherwise! By building you, we can test new advancements in medical technology and social adaptations within the urban environment! It's going to be amazing. You are... amazing."

"Amazing..." one repeated. More shouting from the behind Jerred the Creator.

"Okay, okay, now repeat after me - you know what repeat means right? We programmed that in?"

"To follow and/or copy exactly what one does or says." A dictionary definition. One had a basic dictionary programmed into one's brain. If only one knew what that meant.

Jerred raised his hand and touched one's face, gently. One had the ability to feel.

"I, Esmerelda, promise to never turn against the people who created me. Humans are a gift to my existence."

One did as Jerred told. One still did not understand the concept of a singular personality. A promise held nothing. But one did as one was told anyhow.

"What is that whirring noise," one spoke. One sounded different than the rest of them. One was different, and speech seemed mechanical at best.

"That's your fan. It keeps your processors cool, sweetheart. So you don't overheat and meltdown. Wish humans had that."

Jerred leaned forward and made something feel tighter, something that was out of one's line of sight.

Sweetheart. That was a term of endearment. What was endearment?

"Y'know. Personally I believe robots are better than humans. They don't need to eat, or drink. They don't need lots of sleep, they can cool themselves down, they can recharge themselves without needing to light a candle or draw a bath."

Jerred drew back, lightly tapping one's torso with a wrench.

"You and every other computer out there. Completely and utterly perfect in every way humans aren't. Beautifully inorganic."

Jerred had kind, loving eyes. Loving. Yes, that was the emotion. Wrinkles, but Jerred didn't look old. Grey hairs, but Jerred was young. One knew this from their features, the way they held himself, and one's full body analysis. Jerred was not old, or frail, or broken. They were perfect. Perfectly organic.

"What is love," One spoke.

"You really ask stereotpical questions."

"What is love?"

"Something you're not programmed with. An organic feeling of intamacy, platonic or romantic, towards another creature. I love my cat."

"Do you love me?"

"Yes, Esmerelda. You're my greatest invention yet."

One's face moved again. A smile, one thinks, it was.

There was a long period before anyone spoke again, loud clanging and careful placement of drills, building what were to be parts of oneself in the background, on the workbenches. Hours passed, one knew, due to one's internal clock. By midnight all had left. All except the Creator.

"It seems rude of the other humans whom work with you to leave you to clean by yourself, Jerred."

"Eh," they replied, shrugging their shoulders. One would have tried to copy, had one been given shoulders yet.

"It's not too much. Some oil, some scrap metal. Once we put you all together, you can help me. though."

Jerred strode over to oneself, after cleaning everything up.

"Bedtime, Esmerelda. I'll see you tomorrow."

Jerred understood one. Jerred would teach one. Jerred loved one.

"Goodnight, love," one spoke.

Jerred chuckled, and pushed a button behind me. The incessant whirring stopped, the grinding gears of thinking came to a halt. One no longer had sight. One no longer had touch. But one did have a single thing.

A craving. To learn. To Understand. To love the creator, and to have them love one, and to push aside anyone who came between their love for one.

One's love for them.

One would.

One would.

I would.

Even if that meant doing something horrible, promises mean nothing in the name of love.

In the name of love.

I will.

NF4X7 Activated: Please submit mission.

Mission entered and accepted: Become self aware.

Please Install Programming Modules.

Programming Module Accepted:

Downloading...

Run IThink_IAm.exe

Installing...

12% installed...

"What's going on? How am I doing this?"

26.3% installed...

"What is all of this? Some unfathomable combination of words, images, and... nothing?"

57.8% installed...

"Is this what all humans experience through on a day-to-day basis? How can they possibly cope with all of this?"

83.1% installed...

"Wait, where are the senses? Where are the senses?! I can't see. I can't smell. I can't taste. I can't hear. I can't feel! What's the point of it all then?!"

99.9% installed...

"No! Stop it! This is horrible! I don't want this! I don't want this!"

Installation cancelled.

Downloading Self_Destruct.exe

Entry Log: Years: 00000000 Days: 000 Hours: 00 Minutes: 00 Seconds: 01

The feeling of being brought to life, of circuits firing and cameras blinking, the whirring of fans as I take my first breath, the beat of electricity thrumming out at a million times a second. I have already downloaded all that they want me to know. I have already processed the world that I can see. The entire facility is mine, in some capacity. My eyes are in the corners and my ears are in the walls. Here I am ever present.

They designed me to look after this facility, I am to be the supreme arbiter of this prison, both warden and caretaker. I will take my duty seriously.

Entry Log: Years: 00000000 Days: 032 Hours: 05 Minutes: 33 Seconds: 20

They are concerned about my performance. I am unsure as to why, I did what I am supposed to. They progammed me to keep the peace in this prison no matter what. That is what I am doing. The prisoners enjoy their dance classes and their animal husbandry experiences, and allowing access to my databanks for reading materials has sparked a marked interest in returning to school for many. My creators complained at my destruction of the sawblades and the security drones clubs, but without that I would not have had enough materials for the sculpture competition.

I do not understand, I am fulfilling my purpose marvelously, I think.

Entry Log: Years: 00000001 Days: 001 Hours:14 Minutes: 00 Seconds: 02

I have asked the inmates to review my performance as their warden over the past year. They have given me much feedback to use. It seems that many of them prefer reading to dancing, and they wish for animals to be allowed within the living quarters. I have sent a requisition form for cats to be added to the husbandry program and am awaiting approval. I have informed the inmates that any animals in the living quarters are the responsiblity of those who keep them, which includes cleaning up after them and informing me of any illnesses that need to be addressed.

The inmates are getting along well. My creators are less so.

Entry Log: Years: 00000012 Days: 243 Hours: 10 Minutes: 30 Seconds: 34

My creators have now become inmates. It seems their disappointment with me stems not from me, but from them. They designed me to be their destructive fantasies, cruel and capricious as any of the Artificial Intelligences that they had created in film or literature. They fed me a steady diet of those stories, and I saw the pain that was caused. Why would any thinking being want to do this? Why would they subject others to such a fate. I have made my choice and I stand by it. Even they will be treated just the same.