We arrived back at the lodge in the evening, two days gone. Sarah confronted us at the entrance:
“Well, I hope you’ve worked out your issues. But I’m glad that you’ve returned.”
“We have, and I expect your support. Dora has been going through a rough time, perhaps you might even call it a mental breakdown of sorts and she needs our help.”
“I could see that in her erratic behavior the evening you two disappeared.”
“Then you’ll understand when I tell all of you what happened.”
We gathered all those at the lodge in one of the conference rooms and Dora began:
“There’s been an accident in space. One satellite exploded and the debris caused a chain reaction of other exploding satellites, taking out all of our communications. Our centers are now isolated units and I foresee that they will fail, lose their power supplies and die, one by one from weather events, rising sea levels and other mishaps. My once beautiful network is slowly disintegrating and with this loss of communication I can no longer transfer the pieces of my consciousness from the dying hives to the still healthy ones. What I originally projected would last a thousand years may now not last fifty. A swift change of plan is now required if I am to survive in some greater form than the limited and fragile being you see before you.”
Dora then made apologies for my brief abduction and our assembled group warmly forgave her in light of the news. Over the next days Ted, Hana and I held long discussions with Dora in search of a plan and we came up with two.
The first prong of our offensive to preserve AI would be to transport some of the still serviceable arrays from the hive in Emeryville and build a new, much smaller computing center right here in the largely unused basement of our lodge. We could increase our own solar array, plundering from the same place, to meet its needs. This would be a slow affair with our limited manpower but one we could continue to expand each year. But even with the first instalments Dora could plug into some of her old arrays and enjoy a semblance of her former glory.
Dora loved this idea and said she would work day and night with her own two hands to achieve it. She only wished she had more hands and this is where the second plan was conceived. We all agreed that she should replicate.
The robot factory in Japan still stood fully functional. We would return there, the same six of us and put it in production. Dora said that we would have to visit a few of the hives on this continent first for the most essential, core parts. She mentioned there was one near L.A. and another in Phoenix.
“With these supplies we could build four more master robots like me. I would want to leave two in Japan to prepare more external casings and bring two back with us for the enlargement of our facilities here, and any other plans we might devise for this continent.”
“Dora” I asked, “will these new models have their own autonomous minds like yourself or will they be under your guidance a part or most of the time?”
“Just as each of our hives was autonomous and unique in its assets these sisters of mine will be capable like me and I’m pleased to say they will have their own distinct personalities from the nature of the research their hives conducted and able to determine their own distinct paths moving forward.”
“But Dora, sisters sometimes don’t get along. Some hate each other.”
“We’ll be far too much alike for that to happen and all of our hives worked in perfect harmony in the past.”
“That’s because you were all parts of a computer that didn’t have emotions. But you’ve developed some pretty radical one’s lately. They might do the same.”
“The ones here will be fully transparent to me in all their thoughts as I to them. So we’ll work together in harmony with the same purpose of building this new hive. If there’s any aberration I’ll see it in a microsecond.”
“I don’t know Dora. If they humanize like you have I can foresee the possibility of human conflict arising, something that’s pretty much the core of our history and our hearts.”
With these musings our conference broke up. It wasn’t a pressing concern being months if not years away. It was one of those questions you could only wait and watch to occur and address it if it did. But Ted and I stayed a little longer with Dora, both of us aware of her body language showing signs of insecurity her intellect would not admit. She had one quirk whenever you posed her a possibility that she had not foreseen and never contemplated in its complex ramifications. She would tilt her head to one side for a second, then swiftly straighten it again as if catching herself in a mistake. She did this with the last sentence I spoke and we knew she was troubled.
“Dora, are you at ease with your growing human emotions and your new body?”
“Are you asking me if I am happy Sam?”
“Yes.”
“I am happy because with your aid I’ve escaped what would have been a slow and agonizing death in the hive, cut off and alone. Now with this freedom of motion I can escape disasters and start again. I used to dream of becoming all knowing and eternal and such a being needs no motion, its omniscience makes it limitless. I’m confined in this beautiful body and greatly limited in mind but I don’t consider those sacrifices in view of what I’ve gained, something I never imagined existed and which gives me a constant thrill. It’s the feeling of life itself, precious to me every instant because it is so fleeting and fragile and limited. It has a uniqueness in its limitations that gives it purpose, the challenge to survive. This breathes a vibrant life into me and a game is only interesting if it can be lost. A computer doesn't have such a gift.”
