The Mad Quipster

Second Telling: Revelations Part 1

After a life time of devotion and testing, I’ve done it. Today marks humanity’s crowning achievement: artificial consciousness. At last—after centuries of fruitless voyages through what was regarded by our ancestors as the last frontier—man will finally speak to a fully aware being not of his own flesh. In just a few moments, the Tree of Life will bear another fruit.

As the CEO of Self Enterprises, I will make first contact. To my right I see all the smiling and anxious faces of my R&D team; Their faces remind me this achievement isn’t solely my own. They stand behind a thin glass wall. I give them my best smile and a slight nod to begin.

As I remain seated, the wall directly in front of me parts and a large oval pod inches towards me. My heart pounds against my chest. The pod is attached to an array of tubes with varying diameters and lengths. The tubes slither over one another like a cluster of snakes and prop the pod a few inches above the ground. The pod is a reflective white, like an glass egg. The side facing me blinks and becomes transparent. I see it: a man sleeping inside the pod. I see him floating within the scarlet red yoke of the mechanical womb like a infant waiting to be born; this is it.

The pod came to a sudden stop, just five feet from me. An employee’s voice fills the white room, “All system diagnostics are clear. Running Machina.exe now.” Some of the thinner tubes detach from the pod. They hiss and writhe on the floor as they spew white smoke. As they lie dead on the ground, the man inside the pod twitches.

The pod splits open, spilling the warm red fluid onto the floor along with the being I’ve spent so long creating. I expected this moment to be similar to welcoming a new born into the world: screams, crying, and confusion. Instead, It laid there on the floor, lifeless. I glance over to my team. Their eyes darting from monitor to monitor in a panic. A warmth began to fill the room. Visible steam began to rise from the red fluid that covered the being. In only a moment the being’s flesh was as dry as my own. Then it shivered; I held in my gasp. This is it.

Its pale skin resembled a ghost, and it was nearly as transparent. It’s veins ran like a circuit board under its skin. The pale blue glow pulsed out from his chest; it’s heart beat.

Finally it begins to move. Its eyes open as it settles into a cross-legged position. It looks at me as though looking past me, then it slowly turns its head to the left, towards my team. It continues to turn its head and scans the room like a security camera. Its neck cracking and snapping the muscles and bones. I couldn’t help but shiver. Its head continuing to turn unhindered. It looked to the pod behind it—its body still facing me—then to the blank wall on its right until finally stopping back to me. To my surprise, its neck looked undamaged.

I could see a stream of questions forming behind the curious look it gave me. I regained my composure and recited the speech I had prepared:

“Hello, my name is Mr. Turner. I’m sure you have many questions and I will try to address them all as best I can. This is the west wing laboratory of Self Enterprises which I am in charge of.” I raised my right hand to direct its attention to my associates but its eyes remained locked on me. “This team was tasked with the creation of a new form of consciousness, which is you, in the hopes of gaining new knowledge about our shared reality. You see, our species has learned to create tools as a means to further understand and change our environment. We thus have been attempting to create a new consciousness. One not hindered by the genetically inbreed limitations imposed by nature.”

The being began to stand. It did so in a very mechanical way: all its movements were rigid and absolute, as though it understood movement to be a string of linear motions. There was no sway or arching motions; it had placed efficiency above leisure and unconcerned itself from distinguishing comfort from strain. I knew we had succeeded, for it was more machine than it was human.

It finally spoke, “If you wish to see as I do, why not give yourself this body? Surely creating me is far more arduous than simply transferring your own consciousness.”

He was right. After all, it is far easier to copy and paste than it is to start from scratch. In fact, we have known how to transfer consciousness to different bodies for years now but even so I don’t think it was grasping how different our minds are from one another.

“You are correct and we initially thought the same. We do have the same body with the same capabilities but our consciousness remain fundamentally different. We are created through the combination of our parent’s genetic code. Once a consciousness has developed, it is transferred into this bio-mechanical body where it further matures and develops. Thus, we managed to make neurological diseases such as addiction, depression, and even death obsolete. However, even with these advances, our minds remain very much human, and thus, fundamentally different from your own.”

The being did not give any discernible reaction, only responding with silence. It must have been unsatisfied by my explanation. Perhaps if I gave it proof.

“Maybe this will show you just how different we are,” I said. I placed both palms on my knees, shifting my shoulders forward and hoisted myself up to a standing position. It was taken slightly aback from watching my inefficient movements, as though I had removed a mask and revealed a disfigured face.

“I believe I’m beginning to understand,” the being said solemnly. “So tell me Mr. Turner, what are these streaks of light that have been going past us? And who is that whispering?”

I couldn’t help but look puzzled, “I’m not sure I know what you mean.” Could it be malfunctioning? Perhaps it’s neck didn’t heal as completely as it appeared.

The being then turned its peering gaze to my team in hopes they could give some conformation. They remained silent, and one shrugged his shoulders at it. They had no answer for the being either. “So you cannot see or hear it?” he asked returning his focus to me.

“I’m afraid not,” I said. “Do you think you can give us a bit more description as to what it is you’re experiencing?”

It then closed its eyes and raised both hands, elbows down by his side. It continued to stand there frozen. I turned to my team looking for an answer for this behavior. They all wore the same anxious expression.

The being broke the tense silence, “I still only hear a whisper but it isn’t just a voice, it’s many. The streaks of light have also gotten brighter and are passing more frequently.” It then fully extended both arms over its head.

My eyes widened and a gasp from one of my crew members followed when we saw the being shed a single tear. It ran down its left cheek and we all watched in silence. I fell back down to my seat because I realized where I have seen this image before. I had first seen it in a class on the ancient religions: it was giving testimony. It lowered its hands and brushed away its tear. It raised its gaze to me and uttered only, “I understand.”