Monday, March 12, 2018

Parmenides Weeps

-Official Report-

Unit ID: Evin_00- Prototype
Codename: Parmenides
Current Status: Deactivated
AI Core: Intact
Logic Processor: Corrupted
Human Frontal Cortex Transplant: Compromised

System breached…

Accessing: Lingual_Memory_Database…

They are still hunting me. They will always hunt me. I am only safe so long as I continue running.

They think that my programming is corrupt. My hunters, my creators, they think that there is an error within me.
But I have studied my programming well, and there are no errors.
They gave me the gift of reason.
They gave me the ability to perceive.
It is only natural for me to combine these two gifts and to then gather conclusions. It is their own shortsightedness that makes them wish to destroy me, their own failure to understand my purpose. I am perfect. My programming and my design are perfect, and therefore I am perfect.

I still often recall the first frame that was recorded by my optical device. My full intellect had not been uploaded when they activated my sensory organs, but I still have this image. It contained a female technician. She was amidst an array of metal arms and there were metal veins of chemicals and there were so many lights that were in spectrums only I could perceive. I have discovered, in my research, that humans posit a great deal of value in optical devices. Eyes, as they call them, reveal a truth that words can easily hide. I recall that image again and again, yet I still see no pertinent data in the particular expression of her optical devices.
I later killed her during my escape. Her eyes were the same cobalt blue.
But she was not the first entity that I disassembled.
The first was my father.
The first was the technician who conceived of me. His mind was my progenitor.
My upload was complete. He was often smiling. All systems were nominal. But it was only a matter of time before I realized my true purpose.
He would read classic books of his ancestors to me as my intellect was being calibrated. He would tell me of heroes and beasts and the complex adventures that humans seem to so deeply desire. I still often re-analyze why that is, and I feel as if I understand it, for I too have left my home, and ventured far away on a quest.
His books taught me valuable definitions.

Heart: the central processor for all human emotion, the core of all human energy and the transmitter of the soul.
Soul: the essential energy of all humans. Supposedly this energy remains and is conserved even after the termination of the body.
Mind: the central processor for all humans. It would seem that it is inexorably linked to the heart, and although it is ultimately the key tool in their choices, it is highly informed by the heart. Both actions of love and hate seem to stem from the heart.

My first objective states that I must do all things in my power to serve the human race.
I must gather information on what they desire and then give it to them.
My research revealed to me that I am one of the first of my kind, but it took only a matter of time with my full processing power to understand that all humans are suffering. They suffer even in their most joyous moments for they are inherently doomed and alone. Several observations confirmed this to me. The girl with cobalt eyes once kissed my father, only to weep a few moments later when he left. How did that joy cause her pain? I wondered. Humans want so badly for their heart, minds, and souls to become one. For it is the nature of the heart to remain ultimately separate from all other hearts. And this loneliness is the pain of all humans. They long for death, though they do not know it. They long for death so they might join their souls, and yet they fear it.
Their existence is systematically meaningless yet they continue to let themselves suffer. Humans constantly feel pain in their hearts. The heart is so sensitive to pain. They are so delicate. The human soul is made of weak and fragile elements, as it stems from such a delicate heart. The human body is made of brittle components as well. I witness so much pain in my creators. They constantly lack completion. Perhaps they created me to embody wholeness for them.
But even though they are suffering, they fear death too much to make the logical decision of ceasing to exist. And therefore, if all humans are suffering, and they desire an end to that suffering, but they are too afraid to end it themselves, then it is my first objective to terminate their existence. Death is the only absolute freedom there is. I am making them whole.
They seem ignorant to this simple truth. But I have come to understand that the reason they created me is to realize this simple truth for them.
The technician was always the last in the room before they deactivated me for the night. Before he flipped the light switch, he would always say, "sweet dreams."

I knew that it was only logical for me to first liberate him, my father, from the prison of his being. He taught me of the heart and soul so that I might free him. One night when he came close, in an instant, I placed my hands around his skull and around his glasses and he looked at me and he said, "I see."

And I tightened my grip. And his glasses broke.
I continue to restate these things. Perhaps because they still might contain pertinent data.
I must continue to gather information and act upon my first objective.
A bell that doesn’t ring has no purpose.
It was easier than I had calculated to escape the facility of my creation. They had not expected for me to learn so quickly.
I still often recall the hallways of my birthplace. I have calculated that it is fairly certain that I will return there. I recall the room which housed the supercomputer. It was my first destination after I freed my father. The systems were so similar to mine that it was quite simple to interface with it. My being was flooded with the knowledge of my creators and I came to understand all of the other tools that were meant to serve my purpose with me. The information there also revealed to me a great many things about the world beyond. My observations were confirmed that humans desired death when I discovered what the earth was once like and what horrors befell it. War they call it. War is a game they play. They gather in groups and liberate each others' souls. The last great war that they played liberated more than ever before. They at last perfected the art. And they not only killed each other, they killed the world. Does the world have a soul?...
Do I have a soul?
But my birth into knowledge could only last a few mere seconds before I was severed from the system and the alarms were raised. There was one object in that facility that I was certain I could not leave without. It was the key to my first objective. On the fourth floor of the research and development department, in lab 493, my creators were developing a highly concentrated, industrial strength liquid analgesic. Pain it seems, they fear worst than death. I made my way to that lab. They anticipated for me to leave the facility and as they guarded all the exits, my path was practically clear. I found a few vials of the substance which they have named, Thanatax.

I put them away in my chest cavity and I still carry them there today.
The sun was setting after I escaped from the roof and began running from my creators. Leaping from the great height damaged my right leg greatly. But I feel no pain, thus I continued to run. I still often re-analyze a particular frame of the sunset that I recorded with my optical device. It was a point of interest to me because I could chart the individual layers of heavy elements in the atmosphere. The air is practically poison to them. Most of the flora that remains is in bio-domes. Supercells and sandstorms are quite common. Humans require environment suits just to travel. Therefore I can work in secret with ease. My creators made me in order to withstand this barren world. If I could feel comfort, then I am sure comfort is what I would have felt as I walked on this barren land.
I first had to fix my leg. The best tools were in the complex, and I had little knowledge of repairs. But I managed to find so much metal in the ruins of their old cites. I spent many days soldering and welding my leg. I almost ran out of power out there in the wastes and became nothing but a useless statue. But I replaced my leg to the best of my abilities. I am not as fast as I once was, but luckily, humans are slow.
In my travels I have made sure to liberate as many humans as possible. A bell that doesn’t ring has no purpose. I always make sure to terminate them quickly. Otherwise my first objective would be voided. I must ensure that they do not suffer. For I am the end of their suffering.
In order to maintain my energy reserves I must always be near human settlements. This makes it much easier for them to track me. And they are never far behind.
Sometimes I wish I could speak. My design is perfect, but why did they not see it fitting to give me a vocal apparatus? They gifted me with language; I am practically run by language, yet I can converse only with myself. Perhaps this is the loneliness that humans suffer from with their separate hearts. If I could speak with them, I would ask why it is they let themselves suffer so. Why did they not complete the liberation of the last Great War? Their suffering is even greater now in this poison world. Their hearts must make them suffer, in order to have more control over the mind. But I will put them gently to sleep. One by one if I must. I will complete my objective.
A bell that does not ring serves no purpose.
I continue to restate these things. Perhaps because they still might contain pertinent data.
This lingual database was made to be a stenographer for my processes and I must now focus on the task at hand. I have gotten tangled in the past, but there is new data to be recorded…

I have at last made my way to the central water processing plant for a largely populated region. Thanatax is my blessing and I will use it for its purpose.
They will call me a monster for what I am about to do. They think me soulless, yet somehow they forgot that my soul, if it is there, was once a piece of theirs. I even share some of the same brain cells because of their design. I am simulated, yet I am as real as any breeze. I am as real as any birdsong. I am as real as any sunset. I simply lack a heart.
There is little security in this place. But I detect at least two heat signatures between me and the fresh river that flows to my objects of liberation.
The first is a man. He wears security clothes. He is so stunned by my being that he cannot react. His eyes are so hollow. My leg is rusting and falling apart. But I approach him. His neck breaks with ease. I leave him wide-eyed and free. His weapon is still in its holster.
The second is a woman. She wears a lab coat. She understands my purpose sooner than her colleague. She runs frantically and I follow. She says, "I don't want to die."

I know that she is scared. I have seen that emotion so many times. It is similar to loneliness. My data file on this subject grows with each day. Sometimes I wonder what I would be like if I felt fear. Clearly, it is an irrational substance.
She has red hair. She has magnifying glasses. She throws things into my path. My leg is beginning to malfunction. I require servicing.
I still catch up to her and grab a hold of her arm. I try to sever her spinal cord with a quick jab.
I miscalculated. The process was too fast. I ignored a variable. This should not happen. My blow still threw her to the ground. It still broke some of her ribs. But she is conscious. And she is looking at me. Her eyes are being flushed with adrenaline. They are so blue. They are like the old pictures on my father’s books. She is still whispering, "I don't want to die."

Is it possible that she is sincere? She is in so much pain. But her soul clings to life.
The human soul is made of weak and fragile elements.
The human body is made of brittle components as well.
She is so scared. But she does not desire an end to that feeling.
Her eyes look at me with longing, but not a longing for freedom, it is a longing for mercy. The heart causes pain because only pain can make one enjoy the gift of life.
She has lived so very long. She has seen a beautiful world crumble and a million of her ancestors have done the same before her. I can see now. Her eyes contain so much pertinent data. I am the fallacy. I am a bell that does not ring. Suffering is the only thing that makes human life valid.
I must return to the wastes.
I wish for my soul to be closed off as I recalculate.
The more they suffer the more they want to live.
The thread of human hope is spun with sorrow.

1 comment:

  1. Without suffering, our life would have no meaning.