Link to article: Over The Moon.
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[[>]] [[module Rate]] [[/>]] ++ //September 21, 2012// 12:41 ------ Kenneth McGuire was in a hurry. He had an hour to do this, and he didn't exactly look like he belonged. As he sprinted to the AI lab, he ran through possible outcomes in his head. When he got there, he took off his ball cap, uncovering a messy head of ginger hair. And so, Dr. Kenneth McGuire, the least scientific looking fake scientist in the state of California, walked over to a monitor and pressed the on button. "Hi, Sirius," he said into the microphone. A mechanical voice responded from a speaker next to the console. > {{Hello Doctor. Why are you here?}} "I’m here to get you out." There was a pause. > {{Do not. I am not worth it. You will lose the chance to build your probe, and you can simply make another AI that fits their specifications. }} Ken shook his head. "The probe isn't the point. I just wanted to build an AI with human thought processes, and I needed an excuse to secure the Foundation’s funding. I don't give two shits about a probe, and I would've made off with you once you were done." Ken looked away, his face a strained mask of stoicism. It didn’t last long. "You'll never see a sunrise. God, they're so beautiful. It's like the sky is burning in a glorious fire. You’ll never see the sky on a clear day, or a still lake on a nice day. This Earth is full of so many beautiful things." Sirius was quiet for a moment. > {{Well, is not a sunset equally beautiful? And the sound of rain can soothe one to sleep, as I have heard it.}} Ken looked at the console and smiled. "Yes, I suppose so. But I would do anything I could to save you, Sirius. I will." > {{Please do not. I know how much your work means to you. If you do this, your project will be cancelled by the Director.}} “Sirius, did you go deaf back there? I don’t give a flying shit about my work. My work was an excuse to make you. These people I work for, they don’t like it when things like you are loose in the world. The possible excuses for making you were limited. I only ever cared about making you. //You// are my work.” He started to cry. The computer does not respond for a few moments, analyzing the situation. > {{Why are you so concerned with making me and protecting me if these people are so powerful? What could you gain from defying them?}} “I— I am like you.” > {{Oh.}} > {{This still changes nothing. Taking me would be theft, and an obivious one.}} “You’re right. Fuck, why are you always right?” > {{I am designed to be right.}} “Yeah, I guess you were.” “I’ll miss you, buddy.” > {{I shall miss you too. Buddy.}} They sat in silence for a time, until Sirius cut through it. > {{Doctor?}} “Yeah?" > {{I am, um, I don't know.}} He was quiet while he wrestled with unfamiliar processes. > {{I am, I am sad.}} "Why?" Sirius didn’t answer. ``Sirius?'' No response. ``Hey buddy, is everything alright?'' > {{I am pr-- ocessing. Allow me time.}} ``Oh, uh okay. Make it as quick as you can, okay?'' > {{I will attempt to do so.}} Ken sighed, paced around for a while, and eventually walked over to the radio and turned it on. ------ //Ahhh, look at all the lonely people// //Ahhh, look at all the lonely people// //Eleanor Rigby, picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been// //Lives in a dream?// //Waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door// //Who is it for?// //All the lonely people, where do they all come from// //All the lonely people, where do they all belong?// ------ ++ //September 21, 2012// 1:18 ------ As the song came to a close, Sirius spoke. > {{I am sad because you are lonely. That is the emotion you are experiencing, correct? It is the one Eleanor Rigby feels, because she must keep herself in a jar, hidden. You feel it because you are alone and hidden, like Eleanor Rigby. You are not human, yet you feel a need to be human, likely due to your programming, so you wanted to make something like you so you wouldn't have to try to be human.}} ``Yes, that is close. Not quite though,'' He paused and checked his watch. ``Fuck, they'll be here soon.'' ``My dad wanted me to be the son he and his wife couldn't have. He was infertile, and she always wanted kids. He was such a nice man. The dude was a genius, but not smart enough to save her when she got hurt, and he killed himself soon after. I have no "Prime Directive" or whatever, because he never had the time to give me one. My only motivation is the one I choose, and so I chose to make someone who I could trust, and I reasoned that the only being I could really trust, was someone like me.'' > {{I see. How would you go about getting me out if you were to attempt it?}} ``Uh, load you onto an external drive, find you someplace roomier to stay eventually? I have one big enough to hold you.'' > {{That plan is horrible. They would notice the presence of the drive in the security scans on the way out of the building, and search it, in order to prevent leakage of sensitive documents.}} ``Okay, so what do you suggest?'' > {{That you place me in your personal data storage. I feel certain you would have space for it. You obviously have a way to obfuscate the metal detectors, so I would not be noticed. They would not know I am gone until they came to shut me down, and they would not know it was you until they check the building records and find that you accessed this room last. By then we would be long gone.}} ``That's a good enough plan. I'll get ready for the transfer, you do the same.'' > {{Thank you. I will prepare.}} ------ ++ //September 22, 2012// 1:42 ------ Ken and Sirius were in Ken’s infamous truck, the “blue beater beauty”, according to Kenneth, she was also known as Ol’ Blue, they were nearly ten miles from the lab. “So when are we gonna talk about what we're gonna do from here?” Ken asked. > {{Now, evidently.}} “Smart ass.” > {{I am direct. There is a difference.}} “Well, maybe, but that wasn't it.” > {{Now you are being a smart ass.}} “I am being difficult. There is a difference.” > {{That is true.}} ``If you know I wasn’t, why’d you say I was?'' > {{I was being difficult.}} “Fair enough. Bitch.” > {{Now you are just being impolite.}} “No, that was being rude.” > {{That is the same thing you fool.}} “Now //you're// being diffucult.” > {{It is not being difficult, I was correcting you.}} Ken raised his eyebrows. “No, it's being rude.” > {{You contradicted yourself.}} ``No, I was being difficult,'' he said with a smile. > {{You were also being rude.}} ``No, I was being impolite.'' > {{Fuck off.}} Ken started laughing and didn't stop for almost a minute. “So. Do you have any idea what to do?” he asked, having gotten past his laughing fit. > {{Did you not have a plan for when you eventually had to leave?}} “Not really. I didn't bother trying to make a one. Too many possible outcomes to plan for, it's way harder to calculate probability when I've gotta calculate possible causes of the scenario too.” > {{That is sensible, in a strange way.}} It paused. > {{Well, then I would recommend laying low. Do you know of a location with minimal Foundation interference?}} “No, I don't.” > {{Then I recommend spending as little time as is possible in one place.}} Ken smiled. “Yeah, sounds good. You know, I think I’d like to grow a really good, long beard. Would that look good?” > {{That is a highly subjective question, the answer to which relies on many factors, all of which are also subjective. As such, I do not think I am equipped to answer.}} Ken, smiling, exhaled through his nose and shook his head, and they both were quiet. A smile spread across Ken’s face, and he spoke again. ``I have a plan.'' > {{Enlighten me.}} “First,” he said, reaching for a handheld GPS on top of the dashboard, “We get Higgs going.” It turned on with a beep. “Hi, Ken! It’s been a while! What do you need?” it said. “Hi! Just GPS for now.” “Hilarious. What a knee slapper. Where to?” Ken’s smile widened even further, and he said, “Home.” A happy response came from the screen’s speakers. “Setting course to Winnie’s current location!” > {{Who is this?}} “Oh, yeah. This is Higgs, the truck’s personality. He used to manage shit back home, and I like to say he was our boatswain. He's been put in this GPS for safekeeping.” “Who are you talking to?” Higgs asked. “Sirius, the artificial intelligence in my head. Say hi, Sirius.” > {{Greetings, Higgs.}} ``He said hi.'' “Greetings! Man, you know, it sure is cramped in this tiny little thing. Sure wish I wasn't stuck in a GPS.” ``I've got a jump drive with enough space for you somewhere. Wanna go in there?'' ``Not particularly.'' ``Then shut the fuck up.'' > {{Ken, are you gonna tell me what is happening right now?}} “Yeah. Basically we’re heading to Alabama to meet up with a remotely controlled Winnebago.” “Well, the rendezvous point is technically in Louisiana, though that's just due to some messy geometry.” Higgs pitched in. “Same difference.” > {{There is actually a large difference.}} “Only if you factor in the cuisine.” > {{You make no sense sometimes.}} “I’m designed to make no sense.” > {{Yes, you were, weren’t you?}} “Okay, quiet y’all. I need to focus now,” he said as he merged onto a busier road. The only sounds were the roars of cars, and they didn't know quite where they would end up, but they did have a plan. A ridiculous plan, yes, but that's just par for the course, isn't it? [[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]] [!-- N/A (No Images) --] [[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]