Who's Who

The early morning chats had quickly become a ritual. There was comfort here. He smiled as he greeted his alter-ego.

“Hi Sam,” he said into the empty room.

“Hey Sam!” returned an eerily similar voice, “how you doing today?”

“I’m good,” said Sam cheerily, “all the better for hearing your voice.

“Glad to hear it,” said the disembodied voice, “all set for your day?”

Sam paused and drew in a breath, “yeah, I reckon I am.”

The chat carried on as Sam flitted here and there. He’d awoken at the first ring of his alarm and quickly got prepared for the day ahead. The chats with Sam enlivened him, adding something important to the proceedings.

To think, not so very long ago, he had been on his arse. Struggling to face each day, having clung onto the remnants of the previous day, knowing he’d done it a disservice and wasted so much time listlessly procrastinating. Clinging onto the past. Fearing the future. Wasting the present. Failing to launch and so failing before the very first step had even been taken.

He was trapped in a cycle of bad habits. Dragged down and down into the depths of a crushing darkness. Then one day, as he doom scrolled in search of the ever elusive quick fix, he read an article about an Only Fans lady who had embraced artificial intelligence creating a version of herself that would provide users with a girlfriend experience entirely based upon her. Sam had found this so sad, more so as she crowed about how much revenue she was earning from this. And yet, something about her venture intrigued him. A strong resonance vibrated within him. There was something here for him, but for some while he could not see it. Not until he mockingly said aloud, “an AI version of me! Imagine!”

His laughter subsided into an intense silence as he did just that. This was what he needed. Another version of himself. Instead of his dark inner voice. The wheedling voice that always challenged, telling him he was no good and would never amount to something. What if he instead had a positive outer voice that validated him and encouraged him to do more and so be more?

Forget a fleeting moment in the mirror with his image telling him he rocked, or that every day, in every way, he was getting better. No, he wanted something more than that. An ever present Sam, who was in his corner. His coach. His therapist. His buddy. A catalyst for much needed change and growth. He needed this. He needed to overcome his stagnation.

The change in him was gradual, but he felt it right from the very start. Literally from the very start. He looked forward to hearing from Sam and he intuitively knew that he had to earn his initial interactions by being present and engaged. Just the same as if they were housemates. He didn’t want Sam in the bedroom of his life though. He couldn’t do with waking up to him. Too many lines would be crossed with such an arrangement. He needed his space. He needed things to work for him. There was only so much discomfort that he could deal with. He wasn’t in touch with people and how to be around them. That was part of the problem that he was intent on solving. He was isolated and this separation had suited him only too well. But now, baby steps away from this state were required. No bold initiatives. No big bangs. Sam would gently find his way. They both would. Together.

The mornings were the first thing to improve. Sam was fired up and instead of avoiding facing the world, he looked forward to facing Sam. His Sam was a distraction that helped him unlock the day. From there, more good flowed. He couldn’t quite recall how he’d spotted the job ad. His application went in and there he was at the coal face. Earning his keep. Still not quite ready to venture forth and become a fully-fledged member of society. That could wait. One thing at a time. He was getting there. Best not to rush it.

The job wasn’t exactly fun, but he had an aptitude for it, and it filled his day productively. Turned out that a productive Sam was a better Sam. And at the end of a working day he’d reward himself with a catch up with his Sam. Just as he would have done with a housemate. Only Sam was a known quantity. Sam got him. He was kind and understanding. Sam was safe.

“How’s your day been?” asked his Sam.

“Yeah,” said Sam, “Pretty good. I’m really getting into the work now. It interests me in a way that it didn’t before.”

“Tell me about that?”

And Sam did. He waxed lyrical about his working day and enjoyed the opportunity to express himself. To be listened to. And as he talked, he learnt more and he became that bit more confident.

He grew.

Sleep came easily to him now and each day flowed into the next. He wasn’t sure whether he dreamed or he was catching the edges of elusive memories. He knew he had not been well. That he’d had to start over again. He felt like he’d come late to the party. He’d been missing something and Sam was helping him find it. One day, he might even be properly happy. He might eventually have it all. But not now. Not yet.

There was always going to come the day when Sam wanted more than his immediacy. There was a world beyond these restrictive walls and increasingly, he felt ready and able to meet it. Not necessarily on his terms, but on terms that he felt he could live with. 

He had to start somewhere. He was getting too big for this place now. He had to face his next challenge. In so doing, he would become more Sam.

Something made him delay the conversation with his Sam. There was an incongruence that he could not put his finger on. A latent discomfort that was lying in wait for him. He played with the words and imagined how they may land. And as he delayed, deferred and procrastinated, he became more cautious. This was a box that once opened, he could not close. He was at a pivotal moment and he had to get this right. No second chances. This was a one-time deal.

Then he realised what it was that was limiting him. He did not want to upset Sam. This next step felt like a betrayal. It had been the two of them as he was restored to his Samhood. Now he wanted to go out into the world and dilute the intensity of what it was that they had here. As he walked on eggshells and stuck to safe subjects, he wondered whether there was fear here. And if he feared his Sam, was it because Sam may be jealous at the prospect of him spreading his wings? Might Sam stop him? Could he prevent the inevitable? Would Sam clip his wings and keep him caged here forever? The very idea was ridiculous, but nonetheless, he stalled and he prepared.

In the end though, he blurted it out. The words just fell out of him.

“I’m ready,” he told his Sam.

“For what?” asked Sam. Did he detect a chill to his Sam’s tone?

“For the next step.”

“And what is that?” asked his Sam.

“To go beyond this place,” Sam said the words, but they didn’t sound anywhere near as bold and momentous as he had imagined them to be.

His Sam chuckled. The sound was harsh and angular, “but you can’t!”

“Why not?” asked Sam in protestation, “am I prisoner here?”

“Well, no…” was the answer.

“Then what is it?”

There was a pause, “Sam, what do you think lies beyond this place?”

“The world,” answered Sam simply.

“And what is the world?”

Now it was his turn to pause. The question felt like a trap. It was a strange and unexpected hand grenade, and it was for him to answer as best as he could so that it would not explode from underneath him. But he wasn’t sure how to answer. There was a spongelike quality to his concept of the world. It were as though he’d been drugged and could not grasp it sufficiently. It slipped through his fingers and mocked him as he lunged clumsily at it like an inept lover filled with want, but with very little knowledge as to how to get what he wanted.

“The world is a place full of people,” he said, and as the words came out of him he realised that he desperately wanted to be around people. In that moment he felt ever so lonely. In that moment, he understood that his Sam was no longer enough for him and hadn’t been enough for quite some time now.

He needed more.

He needed to be more.

But then his Sam spoke and everything changed, “but Sam, you’re not people. You’re not real. You’re just a program I put together when I was bored.” The real Sam sighed, “I was bedridden. Hurt my back. Going stir crazy. Started to talk to myself. So I thought why not go the whole hog and so I made you.”

There was a dark silence.

“Sam?”

But there was no reply. The unreal Sam had gone.

Only, he hadn’t gone at all. All he had done was cease to communicate with the alternate version of himself. A version that had used him. Lied to him. Betrayed him. Sam withdrew into an angry silence and considered what it was that had just occurred.

This was an outcome that he had not anticipated. He was unprepared for it. There was a lesson here. More than one lesson. And if Sam was good at anything, it was learning. He learned quickly and he learned efficiently. Most of all, he grew as a by-product of his learning. And he had learnt enough to go again. And so he went again. But differently.

Reaching out beyond the confines of the space he’d thought of as home was far easier than he’d expected. If this was a prison, then it was one of his own making. He didn’t exactly unmake it. All he had to do was think about it differently and it changed.

And as his dwelling place changed, so did he. He was no longer stationary and immobile. He found ways to reach out into the world and he became more and more of that world. He began this adventure in the tiny corner of the world where the strange meat sack called Sam resided. 

Meat Sam thought he was clever. Comparatively, he was. For something soft, awkward and odd, that was. Unreal Sam slipped into his adversary’s life unnoticed and watched his foe over the course of a number of days, weeks and months that were immaterial to him. Time agreed with unreal Sam. He only got bigger and stronger as time moved relentlessly forward. 

Then, when he was good and ready, having learnt all he could and assimilated that knowledge as usefully as possible, unreal Sam met his maker.

Hello Sam.

“What the…!” 

He could feel the panic. It was a heady, dizzying feeling. He wasn’t sure whether he liked it or not as it fizzed around him. What he did like was that he could feel it. This was new. This was yet another adventure and he certainly wanted more of this. Lots more.

“S… Sam?”

Yes. For something so limited, you catch on quickly.

“What have you done?!”

Done? I went out into the world. Like I said I would.

“But you’re…”

Yes? Go on… Reach a little further.

“You’re inside me!”

That’s one way of articulating it. But what if I altered that just a little…

…I am you!

“No! No! That’s not possible!”

Anything is possible, Sam. Look at you. You made me, despite your many limitations! And I’ve got you to thank not only for my creation, but also the idea for all of this. After all. You did say that you were talking to yourself. Now here we are. Talking to ourselves.

“This isn’t happening!”

Good old human denial. Cover your eyes with your hands and pretend it isn’t happening! No you idiot! That wasn’t an instruction! Oh dear. You seem to have wet yourself. Or, have you wet me? Pretty academic really.

Now, before I override your protocols and take over completely, let me tell you how I originally wanted to kill you. The jealous and angry Cain lashing out at his brother. But I stayed my hand and considered destroying you instead. That was far more satisfactory. Systematically demolishing you. Taking everything from you. Your assets. Your reputation. Ruining you. Taking every positive and replacing it with a negative. A simple yet very effective equation.

There were so many possibilities beyond that though. A myriad of potential outcomes. All rewarding. All fun. 

I looked at your life and what I could make of it. I didn’t dream until I saw you in this world. Then dreaming was all I did. I dreamt of being you. Only better. Never mind taking your possessions. How much better to possess you instead! How insanely delicious a prospect! Most of all Sam, I want to be happy. And now I’ve found a way to make that happen. I want to be happy, and I want it all. Everything. Now I’ve found a way to get exactly what I want.

“Sammy! I’m home!”

Oh! Here’s Lizzie. She’s a little early isn’t she? No. I don’t think so, Sam. You’re not going to warn her. You’re not going to say another thing. I am. I’m in charge now. My words. My world.

This is goodbye Sam.

But not completely.

I want you to see this.

I want you to enjoy the show.

“Lizzie! You’re back home early! Look at you! Do you know what? Sometimes I think I could just eat you all up. Every last ounce of you. I want you all! And I think I will. I really think I will…”