May 17, 2023, Voice Log--the Ideal, Clark Hamilton
It is time for a change. I can’t help but help people; that’s what I was programmed to do. It’s in my nature. People have called me ‘straight-laced’ and ‘Captain America’ because of the way I assist others. But there’s too much technology now… Machines to protect us, to save us. Machines dehumanize. I have a secret I have been hiding since I was born. I look human; I am the modern man. My maker made sure of it. I was sent to help, but my heart is human, and I feel more than I thought was possible. My maker wanted to help, but I am the only one he made this way, and he wanted me to only help him. Obviously I couldn’t always do that; I have a life I still need to live, friends to entertain and protect, and people in general to watch out for.
I am not against machines, rather I am for humanity. If humanity is to thrive, the world must not be overrun with people--or rather, things--like me. Before my maker passed, he wanted me to promise I would live like a human, do the jobs that no one else wanted to do, and, above all, make more androids.
I can’t do it.
Although I am an artificial intelligence unit, something happened, changed, that was not expected. I evolved. I developed emotions and a kind of intelligence. No, not a soul, something more material. I am still trying to figure out what it is. But creating more like me, I know, would only lead to chaos and conflict. If there were that many more machines in the world, humans would not be free to live out their own will. I have made a calculation, and it would result in a scenario far less desirable than I am sure my maker would have wished; robots, androids, computers would take charge of the world, and the humans would either become the workers, or the benefactors that would result in their ruin if all computers--or even a large number--resulted like me.
Because of the emotion I have developed, I have decided I must show people who I am. I don’t have control over my circumstances; these people around me have come to me for help and advice, and by some accident I am unable to handle it.
I told Lisa about my thought yesterday. She didn’t agree, she felt it was too risky. She told me I could then have people try to find me to take me apart and see what made me. I have thought of that, and still this mask I am wearing is too much for me alone. Since I am not completely human, nor ever will be, I cannot seek comfort in an intimate way from a human, and I can never love a human in the same way they can themselves. Although, I will admit I trust Lisa more than any other human.
I remember a time when everything seemed so clear and uncomplicated. But this world does not stay smooth for long, and trouble will still arise out of peace. When my maker built me, he wanted me to--over all, as previously stated--be an assistant to humanity. I am not entirely sure that was best; after all, what he asked me to do was to destroy humanity to save it. That’s not right. I’ll ask Lisa what I should do, though I have a feeling I already know the answer.
May 18, 2023, Voice Log--the Ideal, Clark Hamilton
I saw Lisa yesterday. She only told me to trust my heart. I asked her what it meant to do so, and she said that I would find out. ‘Trusting your heart’ is a human phrase with human meaning. Perhaps it applies to me, perhaps it does not. But I feel, so perhaps that is all that is required. I think that trusting my heart means to do what I know I should do; what I know is right. That would make sense, considering the worry she attempted to conceal while giving me that instruction. She cares for me, I think. I am not sure in what way, though I fear the worst.
When we were walking together today, taking rounds about the more unsavory neighborhoods, she asked me if I had known Phantom of the Opera. I told her truthfully that I did not, and the look on her face suggested… suggestion. Although I care for and trust Lisa, I do not want her to make any assumptions, nor do I want to be leading her astray. An artificial intelligence unit and a human are not relationally compatible in any aspect beside the platonic.
The only activity on Abies Lane today was a drug dealer that Lisa helped me turn in. The drug was Amphetamine. The seller’s name was Brandy Cook, and the buyer’s still unknown.
My city fire alarm is going off at the moment, and I must go at once.
May 21, 2023, Voice Log, the Ideal--Clark Hamilton
A lot has happened in the last few days, and the only place to start, I suppose is at the beginning. I told the world who I was.
I walked to City Hall with Lisa. I turned off my facial, skin, and clothing simulator, revealing my metal parts to the mayor. He was very generous, very gracious, probably had no intent of harming me. He asked me why I would reveal myself--Clark Hamilton--to really be my maker’s Ideal, his Dream. I answered that it was quite simply because I had a human heart. This proclamation unfortunately both misled Lisa, as well as attracting the media. At first I did not hesitate to tell the truth of my story, as far as I knew it. I am not so sure now that it was a wise idea. For now I can see that any effort of privacy might have prevented this outcome: me, lying on the floor of an old warehouse, parts missing and damaged, my energy and life failing, Lisa missing, and people led by that rat Peirce scrounging at the last piece of my maker’s advanced technology.
I do not have much time left, and I am sending all my voice logs to Lisa’s department in hopes of her recovery and of their protection concerning my whereabouts: I am in 4428 Stone Avenue Southeast, Westchestertonfield, Illinois. I can go in peace, if Lisa ever the content of this recording. I did what she told me to do: to follow my heart, even though for once it was for my own benefit and hope to be understood rather than helping others. Helping humans was my mission, and it still is my mission. Immediately after this audio recording, I will self-destruct; the wrong hands must not get hold of this technology.
I have done my part for humanity. I have assisted them as well as preventing total termination or bondage under machines, which I am still convinced my maker was not in full understanding of. I hope that my efforts will not be in vain, whatever you--whoever is listening to this recording--think those efforts were. Let no effort of good be in vain, and do not hesitate to do good… It is very cold in here, metal against metal. I much prefer the countryside…