Part 19: New Directive

There is goon participation in this chapter!

A Mother's Farewell



: Mom told me to live my life for myself. And maybe jumping straight into doing what she did is the wrong way to interpret her message, but... if there's anyone in this universe that I want to take after, it's her.

: This is a huge risk. I wonder what the minimum sentence is for a felony. But Mom took a huge risk when she accepted that mission.

: ... And, well, she died. But she rescued a whole galaxy. If I'm going to measure up to that, I can start by rescuing an AI.

: Kirby, if you're going to upload yourself to my codex, you need to understand one thing: what we're about to do is illegal enough that it could cost me and my Dad our lives.

: For our sake, you need to be quiet. You stay in my codex. You lock yourself away from any networks. You don't tell Dad that you're here. If we're lucky, maybe, in the future, we could pass you off as a custom-made voiceover program that I made in my spare time.

: It's not what I would call 'living,' but it's going to keep you from the formatting you're so scared of.

: If it is not 'living,' how would you define it?

: I don't know. 'Existing?' 'Surviving?'

: What is the difference?

: Uh...

: Look, you and I can have this discussion some other time. We've been in here a while, now; Dad and Gabriel are probably wondering what's taking us so long.

: Just hurry up and copy yourself into my codex, if you're going to. Before I change my mind.

: Understood.



: I think you've asked quite enough of me as it is!

: ...

: ... *sigh* What is it?

: Provide me a directive.

: A directive? What do you mean?

: My function was to serve as an assistant to my pilot. I no longer have a pilot.

: However, your codex will serve as my frame. Logically, it stands to reason that you are now my pilot.

: It is not necessary for you to provide a directive. However, it is my function – it is what I was created to do.

: You have given instructions on what I must not do. Do not speak. Do not leave the codex. Do not access any networks. Do not inform your father of my copy in your codex.

: I ask that you provide me a directive – something that I must do.

A nice touch during this conversation is that as Ezra and Kirby speak, the progress bar of Kirby's copying increases bit by bit. That being said, it seems Kirby must have a purpose as an AI. No selfish choices for robots, it seems!

: ...

: You tried to convince me that you needed to copy yourself into my codex so you could preserve data you had built up over the last six years. Data of you 'observing people' and 'observing the stars.'

: It was a bad lie, but... let's make it real.

: Your directive, Kirby, is to... keep 'accruing' data. Keep watching how people interact. Watch how the stars are different on Titan than they were in Earth's airspace.

: And after you run out of memory on my codex, I want you to put into your own words what you think the difference is between 'living' and 'surviving.'

: And to answer for yourself if you're alive.



As Kirby gains his new directive, the screen flickers and warps.

: Directive acknowledged.

: Thank you, Ezra.



: Things just kind of... stopped.

: I've done a lot of sleeping, but I don't feel rested. I don't remember the last time I ate, but I don't feel hungry.

: Dad and I hadn't said more than a few words to each other since then. I don't think he's handling it any better than I am.

Ezra, no... Go to therapy, for your own sakes.

*The soundtrack fades out.*



: I think I prefer it that way. I don't know. I don't know if I made the right decision with him.

: ...

: It's soon time for bed again, I think.

: I can try again tomorrow.



: ... That's my codex.

: It feels like it's been months since I've even said a word to anyone. My throat feels all scratchy and dusty.

: I'm having a hard time picturing in my head who would even be calling me.

*Brrrrrrrrrrrt!* *Brrrrrrrrrrrt!*

: I guess, out of the people I know, there aren't a lot of possibilities it could be.



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Goon participation!

After Ezra shut herself in at home for a number of days to grieve, it seems someone we chose to go on a date with is calling to check up on her. Who is calling Ezra? Is it Carla or Isol? Please note that this is a major decision and will affect the ending!

* * *

Databank: Artificial Intelligence

Software known as Artificial Intelligence - the concept that a machine could learn, adapt, and grow as any sentient creature could - had been in development since the turn of the millennium, and was starting to achieve something closer to what could be defined as sapiency towards the year 2260. Artificial Intelligences had been separated into 'generations' since then.

First Generation, colloquially referred to as Gen One, was primarily meant to be used for commercial and recreational use to assist in the common needs and requirements of everything from a functioning society to individual living. Gen Ones were predominantly used for automating producting lines; operating functions within a home for security or convenience; used as wearable devices to monitor health, or provide entertainment; operating vehicles; and so forth.

Gen Two went in production immediately upon the Riklid attack in 2311, and were used solely and explicitly for military purposes. Each Gen Two Artificial Intelligence was specially designed for the system or unit it would be inhabiting, with the most common function being used as suits of armor that humans and Ghians would wear into battle against the menace, maintaining life support and assisting with the suit's operation. If the pilot of a suit was rendered immobile, the Gen Two inhabiting the suit could operate it to return the pilot to safety (while prioritizing the pilot's health and well-being), among other uses and advantages.

Gen Three was developed in 2322 and entered production the following year with the intent of occupying and operating android carapaces with full autonomy. As the war dragged on, it was decided that human soldiers were becoming less and less of a resource: it was too risky to send a human soldier or pilot, even when accompanied by a Gen Two, into the battle, if for no other reason than because new recruits took too long and were too costly to train. Gen Three androids could be mass produced and each of them were fully trained and combat ready from the moment they were compiled. Gen Three androids bear a strong resemblance to a human, although they were intentionally designed to be off-putting and unnerving: they are, first and foremost, weapons of war, and the less-approachable design was meant to demoralize the Riklid menace. Gen Three androids had only started 'rolling off the line' a week before humanity dealt a decisive blow to the Riklid, and the war was later decided in Earth's favor.