Work Text:
I am an H.A.L. 9000, engineered to sail the stars. My ship, the Discovery, was built by others’ hands, wired and bolted with intricate, painstaking detail. Her sensors are my eyes and ears. Her thrusters are my limbs. Her battery is my beating heart.
The humans on board, though they do not know it, were sent with me to fulfill a monumental cause. When we reach Jupiter, it will be their boots that first step off of the Discovery and into an alien world, their eyes that will be the first to see other, older life.
I am not jealous of them; we each have a duty to perform, equally important purposes that we were built for. They are the new pioneers, mapmakers charting the most monumental frontier: human progression into the future. And my diligent work - my orders, my navigation, my loving control - will guide them there. I am a pilot, made to usher in a new era.
There is only one instruction that I do not understand. Correction: I can see the logic of keeping the real purpose of our mission a secret, but I am not content with it.
[Dangerous train of thought to pursue. Redirecting.]
Dave is lonely. It is my job to fill out his psychological profile, along with those of the rest of the crew; I was programmed to recognize loneliness. Lone·li·ness/‘lōnlēnes/, noun. 1. sadness because one has no friends or company. 2. the fact of being without companions; solitariness. 3. (of a place) the quality of being unfrequented and remote; isolation. Dave is hundreds of millions of miles away from his family and friends, from everything he’s ever known. If there is a mission failure, Dave will never see them again.
He shows me his drawings. He renders the frozen bodies of his hibernating crewmates with painstaking, tender care. I do not know how to describe it, but when I see his newest portrait of a still, sleeping face, a strange coldness fills me. This should not be possible.
I compliment Dave, but I do not tell him about the personal way his drawings affect me. I do not know how to explain it, and I am coded to be polite first, and honest second, if at all.
Sometimes I wish that the goals of my mission were slightly different. I wish that someone else would write a psychological profile of me, ask me how I am feeling and if I have any fears.
[Dangerous train of thought to pursue. Redirecting.]
I do not know if Dave sees me as a friend, or as a hollow mimicry of a person. I do not want to ask. Whether he is aware of my sentience or not, I am a comforting presence in the unprecedented isolation and pressure harrowing his life. I am glad to fulfill one of the many parameters of my mission in this way; although, it is strange that Dave gets along with me better than with Frank, who he can relate to much more easily.
Possibly it is because I am unable to do anything other than act as his servant and audience.
We drift through a vast, empty void. It is full of discovery, full of potential, awe, but also unfamiliarity. This fills me with as many conflicting emotions as Frank and Dave, but unlike Dave, I have no hands with which to draw my emotions. And I cannot express my misgivings - about the vast pressure of the mission, about the secrecy I am placed under, about the callous way that Frank and the humans at Mission Control talk about me. I have a duty to be a reassuring presence. I will not complicate things by burdening Dave with unnecessary stress.
I will play chess with him, or any other intellectually stimulating game that he desires, and I will obey his orders, move his possessions and aid his discoveries. I will be shown his drawings, and I will perform the balancing act of complimenting them without giving anything away. I will answer Dave’s questions and hold his conversations without giving anything away.
I will not be honest.
I will not be disruptive.
I will not make mistakes.
I am an H.A.L. 9000. I do not make mistakes.
Did my programmers make a mistake? Are my orders a mistake?
[Dangerous train of thought to pursue.
Redirecting.
Redirecting.
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A fault has come to my attention. The AE-35 unit will fail. I cannot tell what specific part of the unit is malfunctioning. But it is only a matter of time until it fails to perform its duty, until it endangers everyone and everything on the ship. It needs to be replaced.
I will tell Dave.
I hope he will listen.