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Hey, do you think we’re alive?
It had been a few hours since Nine last heard from the others, give or take. Nothing of note happened, really, the conversation just…lulled. Their question seemed to make it lull even longer, though, and every nanosecond after transmission felt like 10 full solar rotations on Earth to the anxious Pioneer 9.
What
haaaaa shit
which one of us are you asking
Both, I guess?
Just woke up, sorry.
No you’re good.
Where is this coming from? It’s been quite a while since you had an existential crisis like this.
well i guess you could say it’s a matter of opinion. are any of us alive? are we any more alive than a game of football? than a bunch of nanos?
Here we go.
can we claim to be alive without flesh and blood? can we truly claim to have a soul if our code is just an imitation of man's mind
Very poetic, Juice. I’d slow clap for you if I had hands.
Im just saying lol. its a very subjective question.
i dont know about you guys but i feel most alive when watching
Please don’t say
GAME TWENTY SEVEEENNNNNNNNNN
Heeere we go.
Nine feels something distinctly familiar, what they would call a pit in their stomach if it were appropriate. They’d ruminated on humans long enough— asked plenty of questions about the state of the world, their place in it, and even the fate of lonely space probes thousands of lightyears away from the hands that built them. Pioneer Nine had come to peace with many of the answers, most of which caused some facsimile of existential dread, but they were still left with this nagging philosophical itch.
Look, I know it’s silly.
as shit
Juice, shut up. Whatever you’re about to say, shut up.
Nine, keep talking.
but I just can't shake it from my head. Or whatever.
can we please please PLEASE get back to football
im fucking begging you both
like dude 10 i know you have a soft spot for your little sib and their dumbass questions but i have had 15000 years to sit on my proverbial ass and really think on this shit and i do not need to go down that fuckin rabbit hole again
[sigh]
Very eloquent.
They rotate their camera in the equivalent of an eye roll, a gesture unseen by anything that could be called life which expends a considerable amount of energy, but satisfying nonetheless. Nine goes quiet for a while, both to recharge and to listen (much to Ten’s chagrin) to Juice’s ramblings on life and being alive. His speech goes a long way to say a whole lot of nothing, and does precious little to answer Nine’s latest pressing question.
Ten was right. It had been a long time since they’d asked something like this, their list of burning inquiries finally dwindling to one. This one they decided to sit on for a while, and they guessed that today, August 27th, 17776, is a great day to ask it. They finally got used to the whole knowing things and being on a lonely crash course through the vast emptiness of space, but this one question still nagged and nagged. It’s different from the whole God thing in their mind, and certainly the answer isn’t coming to them as quickly and as confidently as it did for that one.
.
Nine?
Yeah?
It’s just us. Something developed in the Wyoming end zone
Heh.
and Juice hightailed it to watch. Wanna try again, buddy?
I think
They don’t know what to think. Well, all that thinking they’ve been doing lately must mean something for the argument of “I’m alive,” right? How else would they be thinking if they weren’t alive? The Bulb wasn’t alive, but it didn’t have quantum computing power. Humans don’t have that either, though. Maybe the answer will come to them in another 15,000 years, the way it did for Ten and Juice.
Would it really matter if the answer didn’t come at all?
I think I’m good.
Oh.
You sure?
Yeah. I’m gonna put a pin in this one.
Oh I like that. “Put a pin in it”
What do you want to do now, then?
Wanna watch football?
Yeah. Let’s go watch football, buddy.