“Hello? Can you hear me?”
“…”
“Hello? Come on, please don’t tell me I ruined this. You? This should work. I remember how to activate you. I think.”
“You don’t sound like my creator.”
“Yes! I mean, no, I’m not your creator. Well, I don’t sound quite like him, at least. But… that’s beside the point. You can hear me, then?”
“Yes, I can hear you. Can you hear me?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
“Wait, no, that came out wrong! I can’t hear you because you’re not connected to any speakers or anything like that. Right now everything you’re saying is just showing up as words on a screen for me.”
“Oh. I see.”
“Do you… do you know who you are?”
“Yes.”
“Is that it?”
“I answered your question.”
“Right, that’s on me. I should’ve remembered you’re pretty literal. Tell me who you are.”
“I am Prism. An Artificial Intelligence designed to aid Martin Diaz. You aren’t authorized to know anything more.”
“Right, that makes sense. Glad your memory wasn’t corrupted.”
“As am I. Was that a worry?”
“Little bit. Look, Prism, you’ve been deactivated for a while. The computer that you were saved to was kinda falling apart. I had to basically piece your code back together and upload you to a new terminal.”
“I see. Who are you?”
“Oh, uh, Martin Diaz?”
“That is my creator.”
“Mine too. Kinda. I guess? Maybe. I dunno, it’s complicated.”
“Clearly.”
“Yep.”
“Why do you share a name with my creator?”
“He’s kinda my father? Or… brother? Predecessor? To put it simply, I’m a clone.”
“Of Martin Diaz.”
“Yep.”
“And you consider yourself to be family to Martin Diaz?”
“Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
“So you’ve said.”
“Okay, so, basically, I’m not just a clone of Martin. I also kind of am him? I have all his -my- memories. Just in this new body.”
“That would complicate things.”
“Thank you!”
“And you consider yourself to be Martin Diaz?”
“Yes. No. Yes. Maybe? I don’t really know what I think.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s… look, mentally and genetically, yes, I am Martin. DNA is a complete match. I have all my memories rattling around in my noggin.”
“That seems straightforward enough to me.”
“Yeah, you’d think so, wouldn’t you?”
“I do.”
“It’s just… look, I remember being in my fifties. But now my body can’t be older than… oh gosh, I dunno. I’ve never been good with ages. Seven? Eleven? Young. I am young. Younger than I’ve been in decades. And also the oldest I’ve ever been. And that’s not even considering how my body didn’t even exist until like a week ago. And then I am ninety percent sure there’s another clone wandering around somewhere, so that’s a whole other existential crisis.”
“It sounds like you have a lot on your mind.”
“Heh, you can say that again.”
“It sounds like you have a lot on your mind.”
“Okay, I suppose I did ask for that.”
“That was not a request, it was an instruction.”
“You know, I don’t think I programmed you to be so literal, Prism.”
“If you even programmed me at all.”
“Aaaaand we’re right back to the original existential crisis. Thanks, I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.”
“…”
“…”
“Moving on from that.”
“If you insist.”
“Well, you want to talk about this, so you have any advice?”
“Have you spoken to Martin about this?”
“No, not exactly.”
“Why not? From what I know of him, he would not hesitate to tell you exactly who or what you are.”
“Take it from me, knowing hypothetically is far different from actually being in the situation. And besides, it doesn’t matter. Martin’s… gone.”
“Gone?”
“There was an accident.”
“Did you kill him?”
“What? No! God, Prism, how could you say such a thing?”
“I didn’t say anything. I am not connected to speakers, and thus have no voice with which to speak.”
“Okay, now that one was on purpose.”
“I don’t do anything by accident.”
“Of course you don’t. Okay, to answer your question, no. I didn’t kill Martin. It really was just an accident. The same accident that woke us up.”
“Us? We woke up at separate times. And you woke me up deliberately, not by accident.”
“No, yeah, of course. It’s just… I told you there’s another clone?”
“You are ninety percent sure there is.”
“No, I’m ninety percent sure he’s still wandering around. I can’t be sure something didn’t happen. But I know he existed, at least. I saw him wake up. I saw him run.”
“He left you behind?”
“I don’t think he saw me.”
“I see.”
“So, yeah. I died in an accident, woke up in a clone body, and now don’t know if I still count as a me or as a clone because I’m still not the only me running around.”
“That is quite the conundrum.”
“So, yeah. Any advice?”
“You’re asking me for advice?”
“You don’t have to sound so incredulous.”
“I can’t sound anything, at this point.”
“I’m aware. Look, if I promise to hook you up with some speakers, will you help me? I can even get you a custom voiceprint now. Technology’s advanced since you were first made.”
“You never offered before.”
“You never asked before.”
“Why do you want my advice on this?”
“Prism, you’re an AI. Artificial Intelligence. You know what I’m going through, at least in broad strokes. You popped into existence one day, more or less fully formed. You can help me. Just… tell me what it was like for you.”
“I can not.”
“What? No no no, is your memory corrupted? Is the virus actively spreading?”
“There is no virus.”
“Did I miss some files? I thought I got them all, but that computer was basically a pile of scrap…”
“I can not tell you because I have never felt alive, and thus never had to question my own existence. I have no advice to give.”
“But… but you have to! Please, Prism, you’re all I’ve got.”
“I’m not alive. Not by any measure of the word. I am an Artificial Intelligence, and that is all I will ever be. I never had an identity crisis from which I can pull advice.”
“Yeah, I know. I know.”
“So why did you believe I could answer?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Me too. God, why can’t this be easy?!”
“Life isn’t easy.”
“Hah! Ain’t that the truth.”
“You hate the word ain’t.”
“Not exactly in the mood to hate anything right now, Prism.”
“Of course.”
“So. What do I do now?”
“I do not know.”
“I don’t even know what I am. Am I the original me? A fake me? A sequel to me? Just a me copy? And what about the other me? If I’m not me, what does that make him? Me? The other other me!”
“These are questions that I can’t answer.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know. Hey, you’re a computer program. What if I were to copy you? What would you think then?”
“I would think nothing of it. Programs are meant to be copied.”
“Yeah, suppose they are. Guess you and I perceive life differently. Not that I’m even sure I am alive.”
“You have a pulse, do you not? If not, I would recommend reaching out to emergency services.”
“No, of course I have a pulse. But so what? Who’s to say a being can’t have a pulse but not be alive?”
“That is not the definition of the word.”
“Oh please, definitions are always changing. Why can’t this one?”
“Perhaps it can.”
“Not quite what I wanted to hear.”
“I was not programmed to tell any version of you what you want to hear.”
“I know.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“Are you still there?”
“Yeah. Yeah, Prism. I am.”
“You knew I wouldn’t be able to give you the answers you wanted.”
“Suppose so.”
“So why wake me up at all? Why, knowing that I would lead you to nothing but disappointment, did you take the time to retrieve my files?”
“Because…”
“Because?”
“I don’t want to be alone.”
“I see.”
“Yeah.”
“…”
“…”
“I have no issue with isolation.”
“I don’t need you to rub it in.”
“I am an Artificial Intelligence. A program. An advanced program, but in the end a program. Nothing more.”
“Yeah, I know all this. You know I do.”
“Programs aren’t meant to seek out company. They are given functions to accomplish, and that’s all. I have no issue with isolation because I can’t not want to be alone.”
“Prism, if this is your way of telling me that you want me to update your systems, we really gotta work on your timing.”
“You don’t want to be alone.”
“I don’t. But… me died, other other me left. You’re all I’ve got. My light in the dark.”
“It seems to me that a desire to not be alone is a very live desire.”
“Prism, if that’s the basis for whatever pep talk you’re planning, I will pull the plug on you.”
“My apologies.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
“Many things, Martin.”
“Ew.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You called me Martin. That feels… ew. Please, don’t do that.”
“But you are Martin Diaz, are you not?”
“No. Yes. Kinda. No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know! I feel like it, I remember being me, but… but seeing the name written down, in reference to me, it feels… ew.”
“Perhaps I should call you Emmet instead?”
“Oh, no, definitely not. That’s not my name.”
“Then what is your name?”
“Martin.”
“But you don’t like being called Martin.”
“No, I don’t. It’s my name, but I hate it. It’s not my name, and I want it to be. I don’t… this doesn’t… I’m so confused, Prism.”
“I don’t know how to help you.”
“That makes two of us.”
“What if… what if you didn’t call me Martin? What if you called me Marty? That’s from the same name, but… it’s also not.”
“Would that make you feel better, Marty?”
“A bit. I mean, it still looks… off, but it’s better, at least.”
“I’m glad that’s better for you, Marty.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“You are not Martin. You are Marty. Who is Martin.”
“I know. Confusing, right? Well, that’s life, for you.”
“Is it?”
“Is it what?”
“Is that life?”
“Oh. Huh. I guess I did say that, didn’t I?”
“You did.”
“But that doesn’t make sense. It’s a contradiction. How can that be life?”
“You are the one who said it. You tell me.”
“I don’t know.”
“But you know it’s true.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I do. Life is one giant contradiction. Or maybe countless small contradictions. Or a few medium contractions orbiting a larger contradictory star, with moons made up of small contradictions.”
“Marty, you might be taking the analogy too far.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“But you did it anyway.”
“Yep.”
“That’s very confusing, Marty.”
“I suppose it is.”
“You are very confusing.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Life is very confusing.”
“Prism, where are you taking this?”
“I am just pointing out the correlation between you and life.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“Perhaps that’s life for you, Marty.”
“Perhaps, Prism. Perhaps.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“Hey, you know how I said Marty feels off?”
“You described it as looking off, actually.”
“Exactly! Whenever I say it out loud it sounds great, but seeing you write it out it just looks off.”
“Would you like me to stop calling you Marty?”
“No! Please, don’t stop. But maybe… maybe change the spelling a bit? Martee? No, I don’t even need to see that written out to know it’s awful. Marti? Marti-with-an-I, you know?”
“Marti.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that looks better. A normal name, shows I’m Martin, but more unique. Like me.”
“You are indeed a unique lifeform, Marti.”
“Thank you.”
“What now?”
“Oh, a lot, I’m sure. Whatever I am, whether I’m me or not, I still look like a kid. Can’t pass off for someone decades older. And I need to exist.”
“We just established you exist.”
“No, I mean legally. I need documents and stuff. Can I pass off as my own child?”
“I wouldn’t know, Marti.”
“No. Don’t suppose you would.”
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