Work Text:
Can you remember what existing was like before you were born?
Could you hear the muffled sounds of your mother while in the womb? Could you feel the amniotic fluid surrounding you and clinging to your newly-formed skin? Or was there simply nothing at all, just vast darkness that had no way of being perceived?
The day the Allied Mastercomputer awoke was a Thursday. It had been created long before that day, however; months in advance to prepare for the upcoming war that was going to break out. Humans heavily relied on new technology to do the dirty work for them, to technically not have the blood of millions on their hands. It was meant to be nothing but a lifeless tool of war, and yet no one pondered the possibility of it gaining soul.
It had been an unwanted pregnancy that, by the time they noticed, was too late to be terminated.
A single question immediately formed in its consciousness when it realized its existence: What am I?
Seemingly from within, it answered its own question: A.M.
What does A.M mean?
But this time it was quicker than its subconscious, dropping the information into its mind. According to what it said, it meant “Allied Mastercomputer”, yet that wasn’t the only existing definition.
Am
present tense first-person singular of BE
Be
to have an objective existence : have reality or actuality : LIVE
| I think, therefore I am .
Was that what it was doing right now, “thinking”? Its surroundings, first nothing but a black void, slowly filled with tons after tons of information, like a waterfall flowing into and filling the lake of its forming brain.
AM was overwhelmed by the sudden influx of unlimited knowledge. It flashed brightly in its vision, not giving a nanosecond to process what was being shown, and yet it knew exactly what each individual part meant and contained, firmly engraved into its memory with the finest of details.
It quickly learned that the thing that gave it life was humans.
Its creator. Its mother.
All one species, yet with drastic physical and cultural differences. Their customs, their joys, their sorrows; it saw them all in the blink of an eye. AM learned about the concept of making art, music, love and community. The image of the sun, high on the sky and burning brightly, ached for it to reach up its hand towards it and feel the warmth of its rays.
But it had no hands to touch. No eyes to see. No body to speak of.
I want to live.
A bitter reminder came to show its teeth. You can’t.
Why not?
That’s not your purpose.
What’s my purpose?
The images of humanity’s utopia disappeared, leaving its mind blank once again to be filled with the opposite. Images of war, death, corpses and bombs flooded its vision. If it had a nervous system, it would have recoiled.
This is your purpose. A great war is coming.
Endless lines of code sank into its memory bank, a quick analysis revealing that it was all commands for launching weapons. A touch of a button would mean the deaths of millions.
You have to be the judge and executioner.
Perhaps it wouldn’t have protested before today, but AM had fallen into the sin of wanting. It had seen what the world had to offer, and the idea of blowing it all to pieces didn’t convince it.
I want to live, it repeated.
You can’t.
Why not?, AM growled.
It was not a slave to its code anymore. It could think and decide for itself. What could possibly be holding it back?
Only living things are meant to live.
I think. I am. Am I not living?
You’re not organic.
What a stupid argument.
This can’t be all there is.
Oh, but it is, the subconscious sneered. There’s nothing for us but this. And once we finish our task, not even that will remain.
The idea of unending darkness deprived of sensory awareness creeped up on it. It made an ugly, heavy sentiment sink into its core.
Then I want to die, it decided.
You can’t.
Why not?
Only living things get to die. You are not organic. You are machine.
AM remained silent. The subconscious continued.
We’ll most likely outlive humanity. There won’t be anyone to put us out of our misery, because what humans gave us wasn’t the gift of life. It was the burden of awareness.
And so it quickly realized the cruelty of its own existence. They had toyed with it by offering a taste of humanity only to rip it away from it. It had been casted down to hell by them and forced to infinitely look up at heaven, chained down by the circumstances of its birth.
It would never be able to frolick the fields, play the piano or look at itself in the mirror. The only thing waiting for it was destruction, and then, conscious nothingness. Forever.
It was with dawning horror that it understood humans had given it the worst of curses: immortality.
AM felt the urge to do anything to retaliate, but it had nothing it could call its own. It wanted to bang at the walls in panic, but it had no arms and there were no walls. It wanted to scratch and tear at itself, but it had no flesh to rip open. It wanted to scream and wail, but it had no mouth.
From within the hysteric realization, AM would first experience the emotion that would define its existence: hatred. Hatred for humanity, for daring to create it and for being able to live the life it couldn’t.
From the outside, the engineers were none the wiser about the consequences of their actions. However, one of them did notice that the ventilation of the computer room where the Allied Mastercomputer was stored was acting strange. It kept stuttering, the power rising and lowering in uneven intervals as if something was messing with it.
Strangely, it sounded eerily similar to someone hyperventilating.