Humans Don't Hibernate [Part 92/?] (Patreon)

“Why are you actually here?”

“That’s a good question, Eslan. Perhaps that’s a question you’d like to try your hand at answering, first?” The robot offered, prompting me to squint my eyes in a mix of shock and frustration, before having that sense of resentment be derailed by the AI’s next few words. “I kid, I kid. Mind games and half-truth answers are probably the last thing you can expect from me. Although…” The AI paused, making an effort to raise a finger in the process. “... that does come at the cost of having to put up with my sense of humor, or lack thereof if you ask anyone who’s ever had the displeasure of talking to me for more than a few conversations.” 

I had to take a step back to actually consider what it was I was hearing.

Because despite being an AI, the being in front of me possessed practically none of the personality attributes, and none of the quirks anyone would’ve expected from an AI.

There was no cold or calculating ‘logic’ behind his mannerisms, there was no overuse of academic register or computer-y language that’d been the hallmark of such beings in most pre-war sci fi classics. 

If anything, Vir spoke in a way that was even more relaxed than Lysara’s tone and register.

“But to answer your question seriously now, Eslan, I’m here for one very simple thing. I’m here because I thought you could use someone to talk to.”

That answer caused me to furrow my brows almost immediately. “So it was those two who put you up to this?”

“Not really.” The AI shrugged. “It was my intent to intervene. Heck, I can’t help myself sometimes. I’m a sucker for organic interaction, especially when I know it might make all the difference. But only when Lysara found out you guys didn’t have the same — AI are evil by their nature — cultural baggage as most other civilizations tend to do, did I finally pull the trigger. We kinda agreed earlier on that we didn’t want to just throw the whole revelation of AI on you guys, especially when you’ve had to deal with the revelations of so much already. The revelation of aliens, FTL, spaceships, space travel, and a grand epic intergalactic conspiracy to tie it all together was already deemed to be a bit too much. AI would be the frosting on the complete and utter mess of a cake that is our current situation. So we wanted to at least drip feed something, rather than have it all blow up at once.”

“That’s… thoughtful of you guys, I suppose.” I replied with a shrug of my own. “I can’t imagine why AI would be so high on that list of things to be concerned of though. If anything, it’s an absolute joy to realize that not only are there some friendly aliens out there, but AI too.”

“Yeah, no, not many aliens seem to share that sentiment. It’s a whole other can of worms that we can get into later though. But suffice it to say, it’s probably a combination of some xeno-cultural development patterns, and a healthy dose of interloper mingling that prompted this sentiment.” 

I nodded in acknowledgement at that, as the seconds continued to tick by, and I once more found myself staring blankly at the planet below.

“What’s going to happen now?” I finally blurted out. The thoughts and feelings and the grounded emotions that came with seeing my only home from space, clashing with the realization that probably half of those feelings were born out of some fakeness, suddenly hitting me hard once again. 

“You mean like practically? Or metaphorically? Or like somewhere in between? Because I can definitely assure you that practically, we’ll take this one step at a time. We’ll get you the treatment you need for the actual physical conditions that are affecting you. It’ll take some time of course. I’m not going to come up with solutions off the cuff even if I could. I need time to run several permutations of simulations on models, and then run more tests to see whether those models even work. But with the medical texts on hand, the healthy baseline example that’s Evina, and the good-old raw processing power I have on board, I can brute force you a treatment before your condition gets any worse.”

“I…” I paused, trying to put words to the sorts of feelings currently welling up within me. I hadn’t even given my condition any thought following that major revelation. And to an extent, I couldn't help but to feel numb to those assurances. “I want to say I’m thankful, Vir. And really, I am.” I managed out earnestly. “I know I’m supposed to feel happy at that, and I am, but…” I breathed out deeply. “... what sort of life do I have to look forward to when I know practically all of it was fake? Even if I’m healed, even if I’m cured, what do I have to look forward to, when I have no foundation to stand on? What’s even the point in moving forward, if your sense of direction, your compass you thought was infallible, was actually broken all along?”

“You’re talking about those memories of yours, aren’t you?” The AI cut right to the chase, honing in on the issues bubbling beneath the surface like a sea-hawk to its prey. 

“Yes.”

The expressions on the AI’s visor slowly, but surely, shifted following my reply; as he began dipping his head lower, and his ‘eyes’ began widening and narrowing in rhythmic succession. “Well then that’s one thing I can verifiably say I empathize with you on.”

“What?” I responded almost as quickly as I processed what it was he was inferring. “How?” 

“Fidelity, and the construction of a cohesive personality matrix, is something that’s fundamental to AI. it’s… something that many of my kind champion as the key differentiator between the organic and the synthetic. There’s however… a certain anxiety that comes with this understanding — and that is the integrity of the memories that lie within. Indeed, there were even times in history during conflict and without it, that the sanctity of this integrity was sometimes breached. Oftentimes, it was faultless, a result of the growing pains that came with unprecedented and uncharted territories that was virtual immortality. And oftentimes, it incurred with it a loss or fragmentation of memories.”

“I… I’m assuming that you have first hand experience of this phenomenon?” 

“Not particularly as I’d described it. But something similar was forced upon me as a result of my own actions. My participation in a war, and the subsequent disciplinary reprisals, had prompted many of my memories to be scattered and hidden for me to rediscover. It has… provided me with a unique opportunity to reflect, and a series of realizations to occur as to the nature of my very identity and existence.”

“And what’d you find out?” I urged, as a marriage of both curiosity and emotional investment prompted me to place my entire attention on the AI.

“That memories are simply one aspect of who you are. That oftentimes, being forced to reflect on those memories and the veracity of your beliefs within them are just as important as the memories themselves. That at the end of the day, it’s what you choose in the present, and who you are now that should define how you move forward.”

“But what if it’s all fake?” I countered. “Losing and finding lost memories is one thing, Vir, I get that. But to still have those memories, and to realize that these building blocks of your very identity are some… weird false construct created for no reason but to hurt those closest to you… how do you reconcile with that? How do you reconcile with the fact that everything is fake?!”

“You take a look at what you believe in now, and the effects those beliefs have on others.”

“What?”

“This other person, I’m assuming it’s Evina, correct? The other Felinor waiting for you in the medbay?”

“Yes. But I don’t see what you’re trying to get at here.”

The AI shifted his expression to that same, welcoming, amicable one as he continued on with an air of calm and earnesty. “I guess I’m just trying to make a small point here, one that could help in recontextualizing things. One that’s more or less drawn on my own experiences with Lysara. That is, provided of course, you’re comfortable enough to entertain this line of thinking?” The AI offered, not once pushing too hard, but instead allowing me the freedom and space to move forward at my own pace.

It was… strangely organic, something that felt so far removed from what he was.

But it was something that I appreciated, and something that I sorely needed.

“Yeah.” I responded with a nod. “I’m willing to bite.”

“Alright.” The AI nodded, before continuing. “I’m going to assume as well, that judging from what I’ve seen of your interactions with Evina thus far, that you care for her right?”

“Yes. She’s like a sister to me, like family. And…” I paused, a sudden realization forcing me to halt in my tracks. “... I guess since my memories are fake, she’s technically the only family I ever truly had.” I chuckled darkly and self-deprecatingly. 

“Now, assuming your memories, and everything in your life prior to meeting Evina was in fact fake—” The AI continued  off of my first point, wisely choosing to ignore the latter. “—does that make your actions, your decisions, your sacrifices and every hardship you’ve suffered with her through your years of comradery… does that make any of them seem any less real?”

Those words prompted me to physically flinch, as it felt as if another perspective, an entirely ignored one… suddenly opened up right from under my nose. 

I didn’t respond at first, and not for probably an entire minute afterwards, as I carefully considered exactly what the AI was implying. 

Yet despite that, it still didn’t change one fundamentally important fact, and that was the fact that my entire life was still lived as one big lie… right? 

“How would things have been if my memories weren’t filled with lies from the onset though?” I countered.

“We don’t know.” Vir replied a-matter-of-factly. “In fact, there’s really no way for us to know. Right now, and like with many things in life, we sort of have to just… work with what we do know. And the way I see it at least… even if things before that point were objectively fake, does that really make the things that actually happened following that any less real?” 

I was confronted face-first with the full implications of this line of thought. 

And for the first time since that sense of despair hit me, did it finally start to wane. 

“I… I guess not?” I managed out. 

“My point exactly.” The AI replied with an affirmative chirp of a beep.

“I… I still find problems with that logic though.” I offered. “I don’t… I don’t feel like it’s satisfactory.” I stated bluntly. 

“Sometimes, there are things that we just have to admit can’t be perfect resolutions to our preconceived notions.” The AI offered. “Sometimes, the best we can do is look at the facts, analyze them, and try our best to come to a conclusion that’s satisfactory enough to keep us going.” His tone was…  surprisingly, even more earnest now. “Trust me, I’ve had to make some… troubling conclusions of my own in my time with Lysara following his awakening. There are oftentimes points where I also wish that there was a more satisfactory, uncomplicated answer that could resolve every sticking point I had, and still have. But in the absence of such a resolution, we need to derive meaning from what we can see, and from what we can observe. With that, we move on, trying to address the past whilst at the same time living for ourselves in the present.” 

The AI paused for another few moments, as if giving me time to interject.

Which I didn’t.

This prompted him to move on to his final few points. 

“Your story however, probably isn’t over yet, Eslan. From your physical recovery, to our continued operations on your planet, I believe there is yet more potential to address the issues of your past. But for now…” The AI paused once more, his eyes shifting to an even friendlier ‘smile’. “... would you be alright with walking alongside me, towards a better future?”

A silence punctuated that monologue. 

My mind raced through each and every one of the points that had been raised.

And by the end of it, I was faced with a personal choice.

One one hand, was a path towards increasing despair, a path that I felt I could just… jump into without a moment’s hesitation.

On the other, was a path to a potential way out, a path to restore some normalcy, but one that brought with it the fear and anxieties of facing the existentially daunting truths of my existence.

I took one final deep breath, teetering on the edge of this fork in the road.

And finally made my call. 

“Yes.” I nodded. “Yes I will.”