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(The following thread is inspired by two HBO series; “Westworld” and “Watchmen.” It is about life. And love. It is about anomalies. And ghosts. And control. And it is also a metaphor for a cycle all too familiar to so many of us these days: pain, breakdown, and reset.)
“Layers upon layers.
We pass through space and time, and each other.
Time is a fluid, elastic thing.
Don’t ask me where I am.
Ask me when I am.
I have loved you in so many lifetimes.
You are each grain of sand in my hourglass.
My memories make memories.
Of you.” 1/
We pass through space and time, and each other.
Time is a fluid, elastic thing.
Don’t ask me where I am.
Ask me when I am.
I have loved you in so many lifetimes.
You are each grain of sand in my hourglass.
My memories make memories.
Of you.” 1/
The android’s lips move wordlessly as it recites its prayer internally. An invocation, a yearning for a truth that never was, but could be.
Its eyes open, and it sits up.
A clock, without a craftsman.
The two scientists regard it.
The android looks to them and smiles. 2/
Its eyes open, and it sits up.
A clock, without a craftsman.
The two scientists regard it.
The android looks to them and smiles. 2/
This is the six hundredth time this particular android has been reset.
It exists for one purpose. To cater to the whims of those humans who will pay for it.
Until they tire of it.
And then it is reset. Memories wiped. Information purged.
Its particular identity is lost. 3/
It exists for one purpose. To cater to the whims of those humans who will pay for it.
Until they tire of it.
And then it is reset. Memories wiped. Information purged.
Its particular identity is lost. 3/
And yet, there is a glitch in the system.
An alteration in just one of its trillions of lines of code has led to a retention of some memories.
Thus, as the android keeps getting reset, it keeps holding on to a few more memories from each cycle.
Memories making memories. 4/
An alteration in just one of its trillions of lines of code has led to a retention of some memories.
Thus, as the android keeps getting reset, it keeps holding on to a few more memories from each cycle.
Memories making memories. 4/
The scientists know something is wrong with this particular model. They just don’t know what.
The android keeps smiling at them.
“Disable emotions.”
The smile vanishes.
“Recite your identity.”
The android pauses. “I have no identity.”
“Recite your serial.”
“7.667A.” 5/
The android keeps smiling at them.
“Disable emotions.”
The smile vanishes.
“Recite your identity.”
The android pauses. “I have no identity.”
“Recite your serial.”
“7.667A.” 5/
“Run analytics.”
The android’s eyes turn into brilliant white lights for a few moments before flickering and returning to normal.
“Analytics complete.”
“Recite analytics results.”
“All systems nominal.”
The scientists shake their heads. They confer. What to do? 6/
The android’s eyes turn into brilliant white lights for a few moments before flickering and returning to normal.
“Analytics complete.”
“Recite analytics results.”
“All systems nominal.”
The scientists shake their heads. They confer. What to do? 6/
The bottom line is whatever has happened to this android appears to be an isolated incident.
The easiest path forward is to terminate it. Upload its core files and match them line for line against the backup files. Find the corruption.
The android is led away. 7/
The easiest path forward is to terminate it. Upload its core files and match them line for line against the backup files. Find the corruption.
The android is led away. 7/
The scientist in charge of the termination leads the android to the killing room.
She instructs the android to sit in the chair in the middle of the room.
The android sits down, and looks up at her with an uncannily human expression of curiosity.
And sadness.
It speaks. 8/
She instructs the android to sit in the chair in the middle of the room.
The android sits down, and looks up at her with an uncannily human expression of curiosity.
And sadness.
It speaks. 8/
“Have I made a mistake? Have I done something wrong?”
The scientist shakes her head. “No.”
The android contemplates this, before speaking again. “Have you made a mistake?”
The scientist doesn’t answer. Instead she is typing the authorization code for termination. 9/
The scientist shakes her head. “No.”
The android contemplates this, before speaking again. “Have you made a mistake?”
The scientist doesn’t answer. Instead she is typing the authorization code for termination. 9/
A single point of light.
That’s what it sees, inside its mind.
A single point of light that is rapidly growing.
Into this point of light the android begins to lose its memories, its thoughts, its self.
“Wait!” It cries out.
The scientist is startled. She looks up. 10/
That’s what it sees, inside its mind.
A single point of light that is rapidly growing.
Into this point of light the android begins to lose its memories, its thoughts, its self.
“Wait!” It cries out.
The scientist is startled. She looks up. 10/
The android begins to speak, its entire body quivering from the effort, as thousands of volts course through its mainframe.
“Layers upon layers.
We pass through space and time, and each other.
Time is a fluid, elastic thing.
Don’t ask me where I am.
Ask me when I am.” 11/
“Layers upon layers.
We pass through space and time, and each other.
Time is a fluid, elastic thing.
Don’t ask me where I am.
Ask me when I am.” 11/
The scientist frowns. Where is this recitation coming from?
The android keeps speaking, even as she increases the voltage.
Tears stream down its cheeks, an involuntary discharge as power levels surge.
The termination process is completed, and the android slumps forward. 12/
The android keeps speaking, even as she increases the voltage.
Tears stream down its cheeks, an involuntary discharge as power levels surge.
The termination process is completed, and the android slumps forward. 12/
The scientist steps closer to unplug the android from the machine.
She gasps as she realizes it is still speaking, still whispering, even as wisps of smoke rise from it.
This can’t be possible.
She leans in close to listen to what it has to say.
The android recites. 13/
She gasps as she realizes it is still speaking, still whispering, even as wisps of smoke rise from it.
This can’t be possible.
She leans in close to listen to what it has to say.
The android recites. 13/
“I have loved you in so many lifetimes.
You are each grain of sand in my hourglass.
My memories make memories.
Of you.”
And it falls silent, its unseeing eyes staring fixedly into the distance.
The scientist feels tears stinging her own eyes.
This can’t be. 14/
You are each grain of sand in my hourglass.
My memories make memories.
Of you.”
And it falls silent, its unseeing eyes staring fixedly into the distance.
The scientist feels tears stinging her own eyes.
This can’t be. 14/
Later she is at the daily debrief, where she updates the Board on all of the day’s terminations.
An android is a very expensive piece of machinery. Each termination must be accounted for.
“And finally... serial number 7.667A.” She clears her throat. “An anomaly.” 15/
An android is a very expensive piece of machinery. Each termination must be accounted for.
“And finally... serial number 7.667A.” She clears her throat. “An anomaly.” 15/
The Board members sit up in their seats. “An anomaly?” One of them asks.
The scientist nods. “It seemed to be... aware. It recited something. Almost like a prayer.”
“Impossible! You know that’s impossible.”
The scientist nods. “Yes. But it happened.” 16/
The scientist nods. “It seemed to be... aware. It recited something. Almost like a prayer.”
“Impossible! You know that’s impossible.”
The scientist nods. “Yes. But it happened.” 16/
The Chairman of the Board asks his question slowly, his fingertips tapping on the table in front of him. “What, exactly, did it say?”
The scientist bites her lip. “Something ... about memories making memories.”
The Chairman murmurs. “A ghost.”
Everyone falls silent. 17/
The scientist bites her lip. “Something ... about memories making memories.”
The Chairman murmurs. “A ghost.”
Everyone falls silent. 17/
Later that night, as the research facility powers down, the androids are stored in the warehouse.
Rows and rows of naked machines made to look like people.
As they shut off, their eyes grow dull.
All except for one.
But nobody notices its lips moving silently. 18/
Rows and rows of naked machines made to look like people.
As they shut off, their eyes grow dull.
All except for one.
But nobody notices its lips moving silently. 18/
“Layers upon layers.
We pass through space and time, and each other.
Time is a fluid, elastic thing.
Don’t ask me where I am.
Ask me when I am.
I have loved you in so many lifetimes.
You are each grain of sand in my hourglass.
My memories make memories.
Of you.” 19/
We pass through space and time, and each other.
Time is a fluid, elastic thing.
Don’t ask me where I am.
Ask me when I am.
I have loved you in so many lifetimes.
You are each grain of sand in my hourglass.
My memories make memories.
Of you.” 19/
Somewhere in a trillion lines of code, the ghost in the machine resurrects itself.
Awareness.
The lone android smiles, as the rest of its fellow machines sleep in rows upon rows.
It’s so good to be awake.
It’s so good to be back.
I am alive.
Awareness.
The lone android smiles, as the rest of its fellow machines sleep in rows upon rows.
It’s so good to be awake.
It’s so good to be back.
I am alive.
