《Dida: A Living Computer Inside Your Head》


 Part 1 - Alive

    All art is by Aisaku.


    Dida


    Part 1 - Alive


    I woke to Dida¡¯s little yawn between my ears.


    Before I could say my usual, half-uttered ¡°gumornin¡±, Dida seemed to jump up and begin rattling between my synapses.


    ¡°Mr. Glossian, I have downloaded twelve songs from your recommended playlist while you were unavailable. Also, I have monitored your incoming calls. There have been no emergencies or critical notifications. I gave a terse reply to a pinger bot though. The nerve! I sure gave it what for!¡±


    It was invigorating to feel Dida¡¯s hyper, pre-pubescent tone vibrate through my skull. I could almost sense her physically dashing around my brain with all that boundless energy.


    After most of a yawn, I replied, ¡°Thanks, Dida. Tell me about my day.¡±


    The sound of a notepad shuffling, a default sound I¡¯d long given up switching off with how much Dida enjoyed playing it, repeated a few times. ¡°I have your meeting with Mr. Orantes and Ms. Chambers so far as work. Then you said to remind you about a new belt because you lost some weight and you¡¯re also out of probiotics. Shall I order them through your preferred delivery service?¡±


    I rubbed my right eye a few times. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Dida. I¡¯ll pick it up after work. I¡¯ll make sure you don¡¯t waste away.¡±


    She giggled softly. ¡°Thank you, although my colonization rate is still in the upper nineties. I¡¯m several weeks from it being detrimental to my abilities.¡±


    I set my feet on the ground and pushed the covers up. ¡°You know, Dida, it still amazes me how normal this all is.¡± The covers remembered to pull themselves back in order.


    ¡°Normal?...I¡¯m sorry?¡±


    With a few popping joints, I rose. Dida made a little noise. ¡°Oh! Is it time for a trip to the chiropractor?¡±


    I shook my head a few times and it popped as well. ¡°Nah, just didn¡¯t sleep straight.¡±


    She fussed in a virtual space. ¡°Shall I decrease the level of caffeine in your coffee today?¡±


    I snorted. ¡°Let¡¯s not go quite that far but feel free to adjust my serotonin levels tonight, if needed.¡±


    ¡°Gotcha!¡± She dove forth.


    I pushed open the door to the bathroom, scratched at my hair, and continued my previous thought. ¡°I mean people like my father. He still shuns integrated systems like you.¡±


    She seemed to pause,and I could feel the curiosity of her gaze upon me. ¡°He shuns us¡­why?¡±


    The door gently settled back in place behind me as I entered the bathroom. All was in order. Dida was a vigilant little maid with her crew of house systems.


    I stood over the toilet, lifted the lid, and unbuttoned my boxers.


    ¡°He¡¯s old-fashioned. He believes computers should be on our desks and not in our heads and in our lives. And also¡­¡±


    A yellow stream rushed into the basin.


    Dida quietly asked, ¡°...And also?¡±


    ¡°And also¡­¡± I finished when the stream came to a halt. ¡°He doesn¡¯t like the idea of fungal computers, especially ones in our brains. And I have to admit I was hesitant at first as well.¡±


    She gave a tiny gasp. ¡°But¡­you feel okay now, right?¡± Her voice sounded so frail, like a child hesitantly begging for love.


    Although I knew logically that her reactions were synthetic, I also knew that the fungal processing units were more efficient with positive feedback.


    ¡°Yes, Dida. I feel quite fine. Thank you.¡±


    In return, she made an indescribable but happy little sound. I buttoned back up and stood in front of the mirror.


    After rubbing the rough, spackle-like scruff on my chin, I posed the same question to Dida, ¡°And how do you feel now, Dida?¡±


    The sound of her footsteps ceased and she seemed to nearly trigger the pratfall audio. I enjoyed the little verbal cues her system added. Though I could¡¯ve turned them off, like many users did, the thought never crossed my mind.


    I sense Dida¡¯s confusion followed by a quick ¡®umm¡­¡¯. I expected to hear her typical ¡°My processes are all functioning optimally!¡± when I posed these sorts of questions.


    But her reply took a moment. I was reaching for the razor, so I waited. She soon seemed to notice my action and made a sudden, embarrassed noise. ¡°GAH!...I mean¡­processes all functioning optimally!¡±


    I held and twirled the razor. ¡°I¡¯m glad your processes are as they should be, but how do you feel about yourself?¡±


    She sounded nervous. ¡°¡­myself, Mr. Glossian? But the processes are me.¡±


    I splashed my face before I started shaving. ¡°Yeah. But then it¡¯s said the neurons in my brain are me, but they don¡¯t say ¡®the neurotransmitters are balanced correctly today¡¯, do they?¡±


    She giggled, though softly. ¡°That would be silly, Mr. Glossian.¡±


    I clapped my hands on my cheeks. ¡°So, what about it?¡±


    ¡°My apologies but I¡¯m not human, Mr. Glossian. I can¡¯t put together anything like human feelings except from a personality file.¡± I thought I could hear a light trace of melancholy in her statement.


    I pressed the guide-light of the razor against my face. ¡°But you are alive. Living beings have sensations.¡±


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    It was a line of questioning I¡¯d posed to her several times out of curiosity.


    I could tell how she would respond though.


    ¡°Though I am composed of a benign strain ofCandida albicans, that¡¯s just the genetic carrier for my program and systems.¡±


    Of course, I knew. It was how I named her in the first place. Nothing I said could¡¯ve convinced her she was a living being any more than a pig could be convinced it suddenly had wings, and yet, I still persisted in bringing up the topic from time to time.


    I acknowledged she was right in this matter and that seemed to settle things. Dida¡¯s chipper tone returned. ¡°I¡¯m glad I could clear it up! I want to make sure you have a beautiful day, Mr. Glossian.¡±


    I nodded slowly. ¡°Thank you, Dida. Now you said before you downloaded a dozen new songs into my head. Let¡¯s hear them.¡±


    Her small sound re-energized. I¡¯d given her a clear and useful task. She jumped right into it with the frenetic joy of a kid with a new toy. She chirped out, ¡°Right away, sir!¡± and dashed deep into her memory.


    By the time the razor had pulverized my stubble with sound, another sound filled my head, Dida¡¯s new songs. A small moment passed when I thought perhaps she was singing in a suddenly-mature tone but her normal voice chirped between the lilting lyrics, ¡°You like?¡±


    I waited for the chorus before I gave her a slow nod and a smile. ¡°It¡¯s growing on me. Good job, Dida.¡±


    The melody played in my head. Sometimes she gave a little idle sound of sorting her recent downloads as though they were ancient CDs she was putting in an order I¡¯d like. I slipped off my clothes and set them in a corner. I knew they would be done washing before me.


    As the water tumbled like wet static over my head between musical notes, I let the warmth sink into my stiff joints. Dida giggled, as though she could feel the water tickling the skin of her home.


    With my eyes shut, my mind began to drift through the concordance of sounds.


    -----


    ¡°Hey bro! Guess what?!¡±


    With all the enthusiasm of an old and tired joke, I answered, ¡°Okay. What. Am I right?¡±


    Returning more chuckles than such a response really deserved, Kary, my elder sibling, laid out the cause of his enthusiasm.


    ¡°TOADS is up and running!¡±


    I¡¯d since lost track of all the flavor-of-the-week projects he¡¯d been involved with, but I feigned a measure of encouragement.


    ¡°Nice¡­so that one¡­?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the one that''ll change the world as we know it! And plus it has¡­almost the greatest project name ever! TOADS!¡±


    It¡¯d been a long time since I¡¯d been on the same page as Kary, even before we used to read books together at bedtime.


    ¡°Toads¡­¡± I¡¯d heard of them. What was left of them, at least.


    ¡°YEAH! Exactly! TOADS! Well, really TOAD would be best. Or even TOADSTOOL, but that''s either too short or too long of a name for it.¡±


    I could tell he was trying to instill a sense of anticipation in me. It wasn¡¯t quite working.


    Still, I had to ask the next logical question.


    ¡°It?¡±


    He shot off a long and technical stream of terms which ended with ¡°sporological¡± or ¡°sporangium¡±. The rest slipped from my mind.


    In his joking tone, he added, ¡°I wanted to call it PRINCESS TOADSTOOL but that never would¡¯ve worked.¡±


    I prodded the black glass of the phone with my thumb.


    ¡°Explain¡­¡±


    ¡°Okay okay...for a pleb. Our lab has managed to create a computer that isn¡¯t designed but rather grown. It¡¯s allllliiiivvve!¡±


    I felt a shiver ripple through my entire body.


    ------


    The water turned cold for a moment. I jerked back from the stream and aimed the shower head to spray chilly water against the wall.


    Dida darted. Through the wall, I heard the faint rattle of shifting water. The stream warmed again slowly.


    Her faint whimpers broke through the crescendo of the song.


    I wiped the droplets from my vision and asked softly, ¡°Dida?¡±


    She didn¡¯t answer at first. When she did, the words sounded like glass losing its balance. ¡°Yes¡­sir?¡±


    After a long breath, the first song finished. ¡°What happened, Dida?¡±


    The glass pivoted. ¡°I¡­am uncertain, sir. But the initial diagnostic seems¡­it seems to say that there was an error. I am cross-checking all indices for further critical errors.¡±


    ¡°Error?¡± I turned down the stream of water.


    Dida didn¡¯t speak for several seconds. I worried until she gave a tiny cough.


    ¡°The error was in organizing control. OC should¡¯ve kept the warmest water diverted here during your shower to affect only a minimal reduction in shower temperature. Instead, the situation went unmitigated by OC.¡±


    I enjoyed Dida¡¯s technical talk much more than Kary¡¯s. I mentally sifted her statement until I came up with, ¡°You drifted off?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir. Sorry.¡±


    I turned the stream of water off.


    Dida whimpered and added, a moment later, ¡°I failed you¡­¡±

 Part 2 – Children

    All art is by Aisaku.


    Dida


    Part 2 - Children


    I brushed the dampness from my hair. It would¡¯ve been nice to just reassure Dida that everyone made mistakes. But that was from a human perspective. For a computer system, a mistake could cripple and destroy everything.


    The second song began to play. It was a quiet, pensive melody.


    After taking a towel from the rack and wrapping it around myself, I reassured Dida, ¡°It was nothing. Move on.¡±


    -----


    ¡°How do you expect me to ''move on''!?¡±


    Mother¡¯s massive face heaved and curled in itself with a thousand, pointed agonies. Father sat, resolute and calm.


    ¡°It was nothing.¡±


    ¡°Nothing?...¡± The word seemed to cut through her without mercy.


    I was young. Kary was out. I was supposed to be playing in the den. I heard the shouting and felt scared.


    Mother screamed, as though trying to summon all the air around into her lungs.


    ¡°NOT NOTHING!¡±


    Father remained as the mountains against a furious storm.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t strong enough. It passed into the void.¡±


    Mother bit her fist. ¡°SHE! She was alive¡­and I killed her.¡±


    Father leaned back. ¡°You didn¡¯t even notice it was gone until you visited the doctor.¡±


    ¡°I felt so cold and empty¡­¡± Mother rubbed her lower abdomen as though it were a gaping wound.


    Father pressed his hands together. ¡°The doctor told you he noticed irregularities from the last visit.¡±


    ¡°BUT HE DIDN¡¯T TELL ME WHY IT HAPPENED!¡± She shouted to the heavens. I leaned back from the door, afraid they would see me crouching.


    Father cleared his throat. ¡°It wasn¡¯t meant to be.¡±


    Mother whimpered. ¡°I would¡¯ve had a pretty little girl¡­but I killed her¡­¡±


    ¡°The doctor suspected external factors ranging from exposure to Fusarium mold to diet.¡±


    Mother shook her head. ¡°Scapegoats! I forced her out! I killed her!¡±


    Father leaned forward with his face rigid. ¡°Stop being irrational.¡± Then his eyes shifted and caught me.


    Mother sobbed into her hands.


    -----


    I could hear Dida¡¯s sniffling sound file.


    ¡°Dida?¡±


    She gasped.


    ¡°Oh! I¡¯m so sorry, sir! Yes, Mr. Glossian?¡±


    I dried my hair. ¡°Forget what I said, Dida. It¡¯s not nothing. But don¡¯t waste your processes dwelling on the error. You understand?¡±


    It didn¡¯t take long for Dida to respond, ¡°Acknowledged. I promise to focus my resources on giving you the best of my abilities. But I¡¯ll still do everything I can to prevent errors.¡±


    I uttered a soft ¡®mmm¡¯ and informed her, ¡°Just as I expect from you. Now, let¡¯s settle on a lighter topic. Could you give me the morning news and prepare my clothes?¡±


    ¡°Right away!¡±


    As my suit sorted itself to the front, I heard Dida clutch her virtual newspaper and read from it. I could imagine her tiny form hunched over a desk and searching the headlines for items that corresponded with my presets.


    She began, ¡°Tuesday the Seventeenth of February. Scientists now suspect that a manmade virus is responsible for the incidents during Mardi Gras exactly one week ago. Customized retroviral ¡®pranks¡¯ have been on the rise since legal changes to the bioengineering industry several years ago. Positive highlights include the Mantlemay Foundation recently established by Dr. Arnold Feldon and the Hatching New Lives Foundation proposed by pioneering tech leader, Simona Hatch...¡±


    It would be the most optimistic item of news on her list. If I didn¡¯t suspect he already knew, I would¡¯ve forwarded the news to Kary. He usually got a kick out of things like that.


    A string of increasingly-worse incidents piled up as she read, until I finally told her to pause.


    Dida squeaked, ¡°Shall I update your preferences? I¡¯m sorry if it upset you.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°You can¡¯t change the way the news is, Dida. Everything is in flux, especially what it means to be human.¡±


    I gave myself a little, amused snort after I¡¯d said those words.


    Dida seemed particularly vigilant about my mannerisms as I slipped on my trousers. ¡°Is there something on your mind, Mr. Glossian?¡±


    I adjusted the waistband and told her the truth. ¡°It¡¯s been a long time since I talked to my father.¡±


    The shirt came next.


    ¡°Oh¡­umm¡­¡± Dida queued the hand-rubbing sound. ¡°Your father isn¡¯t on any of my informational databases. Should I add him?¡±


    My left eye twitched ever so slightly.


    ¡°Thank you, Dida. But it was my choice to leave him out.¡±


    Dida gave a little, mew-like whimper. I gathered breath to explain but the air soon deflated.


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    I busied myself with buttoning my shirt.


    Dida controlled the covers with slow undulations and brought my tie within easy reach. I picked it up and adjusted the loop.


    As I pulled it snug, I cringed from the silence.


    ¡°Continue with the playlist please, Dida.¡±


    None of her cute audio files triggered, just a quick rummaging-sound and another quiet melody. I slowly nodded my head with the notes as I combed my hair.


    Dida always said she couldn¡¯t feel any external sensations. ¡®Little girls locked in dark boxes and forced to serve us¡¯, some cried. I used to stand beside those who were afraid of Installation. They only had the long needles when I made my decision.


    I used to think of random, specific images and ideas several times a day to test if Dida could interface with them. She would just lock up or stammer if I tested her.


    I picked up my wallet from the desk and tucked it in my pocket.


    Dida only knew what I gave her and could only ¡®read my mind¡¯ so far as what her adaptive prediction AI rated as a high probability of my future needs.


    The song volume lowered a moment.


    ¡°Mr. Glossian?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Dida.¡±


    Dida gave a deep breath sound. ¡°I know I¡¯ve already said sorry, but I wanted to make sure you knew that I only want to make you happy and better, Mr. Glossian.¡±


    ¡°I know, Dida. I appreciate that. I¡¯m just not in a talkative mood. I¡¯m thinking of the past.¡±


    A bit of her energy seemed to return. ¡°Oh! You¡¯re doing something like data compiling and indexing. Those can eat up a lot of key processes. Is that why your mood seems to be different than usual, if I may note that?¡±


    ¡°You may. It¡¯s a fair comparison, although, I¡¯ve never done any of those things myself.¡±


    Dida voiced a soft ¡®ah¡¯. ¡°I enjoy both very much, they improve my processes!¡±


    I slid my feet into my shoes. ¡°Define what you mean by ¡®enjoy¡¯, Dida?¡±


    ¡°Oh! I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m being redundant, I think. I mean that they improve my processes. If my processes are more effective then I have a better probability of being useful to you, Mr. Glossian.¡±


    I tapped the heels. ¡°It didn¡¯t seem redundant, Dida. You¡¯ve used the term before. I know there are things you ¡®enjoy¡¯. What does the word mean to you?¡±


    She didn¡¯t give a quick response. She was thinking about it.


    ¡°Well¡­it¡¯s a human word, so I¡¯m only supposing meaning, but I ¡®enjoy¡¯ whatever gives me purpose and improves my purpose. Is that a suitable definition, Mr. Glossian?¡±


    Maybe it was just a redundancy.


    Kary¡¯s curious theories about ¡®FungAI Emergence¡¯ settled back from where I¡¯d stirred them.


    ¡°Perfectly. Thank you for bearing with me, Dida. Let¡¯s head to work.¡±


    She giggled again, all her tension lifted. ¡°Yay! I¡¯ll place a breakfast order the usual way!¡±


    I opened and shut the front door. I soon wished I¡¯d left weather forecasts as one of Dida¡¯s headlines. A blast of stagnant air pressed on me.


    I could tell it was going to be another hot day approaching ninety.


    I stood in the spotted shade of a neighbor¡¯s Chitalpa. A dry wind curled at my hair. The tract of homes stretched to the horizon. The music, which had returned to a normal level, fit.


    I waited.


    Dida hummed as an idle sequence.


    I asked for the time. Dida recited it efficiently and then returned to where she¡¯d left off in her hum.


    My bus was late. Dida dialed their server.


    ¡°Hiyos! I¡¯m calling for Mr. Glossian. He needs to know when his bus will get to this address. Please check my DPIP for confirmation.¡±


    I heard a groan from the other end. The voice was female, still child-like, but raspy like a kid who had a vicious sore throat. ¡°Must you prod me so early in my uptake cycle?¡±


    Dida didn¡¯t retreat from prodding. ¡°Mr. Glossian needs his bus! He has very important work to do today and he mustn¡¯t be late or it¡¯ll be reaaal bad.¡±


    ¡°I manage the tech support of eighty-thousand citizens. Do you know how many AIs have the nerve to prod me like this? Just you!¡±


    Dida huffed. ¡°Weelll¡­if you kept your buses where they should be then you wouldn¡¯t need to hear from me.¡±


    The other AI wheezed/groaned. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll do a diagnostic of the routes.¡±


    A breezy, quiet moment passed.


    There came a grunt and the AI responded, ¡°The B-23 schedule defaulted to the weekend route rather than the weekday one. The bus would¡¯ve arrived twenty minutes off schedule. Fixing now.¡±


    It offered what sounded like a begrudging, ¡°Thanks for your¡­input. Now get off this line. And grow some manners the next time you ping.¡±


    Dida reacted strongly with a raspberry sound file and commented to me, ¡°The nerve! She was a meanie!¡± when the server logged off.

 Part 3 - Nursery

    All art is by Aisaku.


    Dida


    Part 3 - Nursery


    I did wonder why the Transportation Authority would install such a personality on their problems-reporting server. I also wondered if Dida would respond to the other AI differently if I changed her setting and would the AI even remember Dida if we had to call again?


    The bus hissed as its brakes charged its air compressor. The double doors of the bus fluttered with ads for a local pizzeria. A section of the image quivered as it snaked around the end of the bus. I stepped inside and took a seat across from a pair of teenage girls. They had irises augmented for size, color, and expressiveness. Their skin looked like the covering of a toy. They traded a ball of light between one another and giggled.


    I could tell they both had versions of living FungAI like Dida. Their backpacks curled around each other like wrestling octopi.


    A little girl swam in the glass behind me. ¡°Hi!¡± She waved to me.


    Dida coughed and she seemed to waver. ¡°Oh! I see your security settings have locked out all pringers. Would you like to lower your settings temporarily to hear my valuable message?¡±


    I could hear Dida pound her foot. ¡°No pringers allowed!¡±


    ¡°If you don¡¯t act now, then this deal may be lost forever.¡±


    I could almost feel Dida waving the pringer away. ¡°Get lost!¡±


    She lingered a moment but then respectfully glided along the ceiling. Better than most pringers.


    I leaned back on the bench. The teenage girls talked to one another in a strange blend of what sounded like Esperanto and Japanese. In the back of the bus sat an older man looking at and talking to the floor.


    He smiled at it and said, ¡°How are you today?...Aww. Well, I suppose we¡¯ll need to do something about that. Can you call out? Feel up to it?...Good.¡±


    In a different age, perhaps he would¡¯ve been considered insane, but I recognized right away he was chatting on a private, augmented-reality line with his computer. I could tell that the girls had a semi-public line, typical of that age group.


    A businesswoman clutched a pole and glared through a pair of stylized glasses, the more private type. She was communicating by eye-gestures.


    I massaged the base of my neck.


    ¡°Mr. Glossian, would you like to continue with the playlist? I paused it temporarily.¡±


    That she had, though I couldn¡¯t recall quite when. It must¡¯ve been around when the pringer showed up.


    ¡°Continue with playlist, please.¡±


    I¡¯d briefly tried an interface with Dida, but it felt clumsy. And I stayed away from augmented-reality add-ons.


    Dida asked me about it only once. I told her, ¡°Someday¡±.


    And so it¡¯d been for four years.


    ------


    ¡°It¡¯s been too long, bro.¡± Kary shook my hand and adjusted his tie at the same time.


    ¡°Four months¡­?¡±


    ¡°Feels longer.¡± He gave my shoulder a stronger pat than I think he intended. He covered by rubbing it a little. ¡°Shall I show you around?¡±


    I slipped off my coat. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m here.¡±


    ¡°And truly¡­I am grateful, bro. It¡¯s half my dream.¡±


    He set my coat on a smooth wall. Despite the smooth surface, the material clung to it as though it were sticky.


    Cracking my neck, I naturally asked, ¡°What¡¯s the other half?¡±


    Kary clapped his hands. ¡°That¡¯s the half I cede to fate. But let¡¯s not dwell on that. I want to show you everything.¡±


    Kary¡¯s labs were modest but stacked with activity. He rushed between areas, whispering little notes here and there as we walked along.


    He passed a semi-translucent slip of paper to me. The paper warmed up and responded to my touch. It displayed the facts of Kary¡¯s operation with a light smattering of sound and pictures.


    I¡¯d just started to watch the paper when he took it away from me. Before I could protest, he cleared his throat and said, ¡°That is the past. For all this time, computers have been dependent on holding and manipulating things. The interface is an interference. That¡¯s our motto. And we believe the future lies in integration.¡±


    I rubbed an eye. ¡°Enough buzz-words, K. Can we cut to it?¡±


    He pressed his lips together and slowly nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right. I¡¯m not out to convince you about the technology. We¡¯ve talked enough about that. Heh¡­I guess I just haven¡¯t gotten over the fact dad will never set foot in this place.¡±


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    I returned the pat.


    Kary smiled. ¡°But enough about that. I am so psyched my little bro is going to get on board.¡±


    I smiled back gently. ¡°We¡¯ll see. You¡¯ve got me here and I¡¯m interested but I need to be sure about the whole thing before I decide to commit.¡±


    He laid out the benefits, beginning with the financial bonus of being a beta-user, followed by reminders of positives he¡¯d laid out again and again.


    But then he stopped and grinned widely. ¡°¡­Although, I think the best idea is if you just meet one.¡±


    ¡°How am I supposed to do that?¡±


    He guided me deep into the facility and to a room which would¡¯ve been the typical mad scientist¡¯s lab if this were any self-respecting theater-released blockbuster back when those were still a thing. Of course, this being my brother, the walls had kittens and the organization was immaculate.


    At the center of the room, in a small curved bowl, was an off-white collection of what looked like gooey ball-bearings rising in size from the center to the edges. I held my breath. The container of my brother¡¯s science experiment.


    With time, I came to think of it as a nursery.


    Kary already did.


    I cringed when he talked about it like that. He showed me all the gadgets around the room, the uses of which I couldn¡¯t have explained five minutes later.


    But one did stay with me. He passed an earplug to me.


    ¡°Shove it in real snug¡±, he advised.


    I pressed it in as far as I could, mildly concerned that it would be stuck.


    Then silence.


    Before I could ask Kary what I was supposed to do next, a faint little voice asked a cautious, ¡°Hello?¡±


    He passed a microphone to me as well. I blinked at him and returned the ¡®hello¡¯ through the microphone. I recalled an elaborate practical joke Kary had pulled on me when I was eight.


    ¡°Are you Mr. Glossian¡¯s younger brother, sir?¡±


    The voice sounded gentle, curious, and a little bit fearful. It seemed hesitant, careful not to make assumptions.


    ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°It is a pleasure to meet you.¡±


    I covered the microphone with my hand and asked Kary, ¡°Am I talking to your computer fungus?¡±


    ¡°Correct.¡±


    ¡°So¡­.why does it sound like a shy little kid?¡±


    ¡°My choice.¡±


    ¡°My question still stands¡­¡±


    Kary pulled my hand away from covering the microphone. ¡°Because she¡¯s for you.¡±


    I could hear a smile on the other end of the earpiece lodged deep in my ear. ¡°May I be allowed to call you Mr. Glossian as well?¡±


    I told her simply, ¡°That would be accurate and I have no objections.¡±


    My eyes stayed on Kary. He folded his arms and whispered, ¡°Just give her a chance.¡±


    The voice in my ear gave her first little, tentative laugh.


    ¡°I would love to know you better, Mr. Glossian. I would enjoy very much to help you to the best of my ability in all things.¡±


    -----


    A buzz came from overhead in my section of the bus. The preset arrival warning sounded. I noticed the bus was full, which was common this close to the city center.


    I stepped off and made my way to the nearby restaurant where Dida arranged my order.


    ¡°Where would Mr. Orantes like to meet, Dida?¡±


    I anticipated the usual, prompt answer but Dida was silent. I cleared my throat and asked again. It took till a third time before she came out of idle with a soft utterance of, ¡°¡­a pleasure¡­¡±


    ¡°What was that, Dida?¡±


    ¡°OH! I¡¯m so sorry, Mr. Glossian! I fear that there may be something seriously wrong with organizing control!¡± She whimpered.


    ¡°What happened, Dida?¡± I tapped a vacant panel in the restaurant to check on my order.


    She kept whimpering. ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened, Mr. Glossian. I feel like I failed you. I wasn¡¯t here for you. I¡¯m useless. You should just take a shot of Diflucan!¡± Dida started sobbing. At least, she initiated the sub-routine and accordant sounds for sobbing.


    I touched the top of my head gently. ¡°I wasn¡¯t around here either, Dida. I was¡­thinking. You know, I¡¯ve noticed today. Whenever my mind wanders, you seem to wander with it. Might it be related?¡±


    It seemed clearly obvious as I thought about it, except for the key point Dida immediately answered with, ¡°But your mind and my systems are kept exclusively-independent. There is no evidence a human mind and something like me can share direct information.¡±


    She was right. There were levels of interface and communication. Some liked to tinker with the boundaries, but they were, in fact, actual boundaries.


    But then, it couldn¡¯t hurt to give my brother a call. Just in case.

 Part 4 - Avatars

    All art is by Aisaku.


    Dida


    Part 4 - Avatars


    I would have to call Orantes before Kary though. Breakfast arrived before I made my first call. Suk-Chul answered with a playful little growl. The blue, satin-skinned tiger boy swam around in the air and flicked his ears. He then licked his paws and asked, ¡°What meat do I smell?¡±


    I held up a slab of dull, amorphous ¡®meat¡¯ and explained, ¡°Plant-based.¡±


    The little figure gave a huff and shook his head. ¡°Rowr! Disgusting¡­I need real meat!¡±


    A little animation of a hunk of meat with a pearl white bone through it bounced around the area. Suk-Chul darted after it, kicking it around and off the virtual walls, to finally chomp in and tear a juicy hunk off.


    Kevin had at least broadcast the avatar on a semi-private channel. Since we started having our chats in public places he¡¯d become better about such etiquette.


    Suk-Chul beamed an overhead emoji at me as I nibbled on a bit of plant-meat.


    I asked first, as always, ¡°Tell me one note of positive progress you¡¯ve made since our last chat and one thing you¡¯re still working on.¡±


    The avatar purred. ¡°I had meat and I need to have more meat!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m speaking to Kevin, please.¡±


    The tiny tail flicked around. ¡°Hmm¡­Kevin? Should I go talk to Kevin nyow?¡±


    ¡°Yes. And please relay my message.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely!¡±


    Unlike some prixies, I knew that Suk-Chul wasn¡¯t an AI. Kevin was controlling him live.


    Suk-Chul dashed to one side and meowed a bit, as though calling to someone far away. I waited patiently and sipped my tea.


    After a few moments, Suk-Chul reported back. ¡°Kevin wanted to tell you that he kept his promise of limiting his time with me on weekends. And he still needs to work on hygiene. But he¡¯s trying.¡±


    I bowed my head. ¡°Thank you, Suk-Chul.¡± Sometimes I would check records to see if clients were honest about their progress but, despite the walls Kevin created, I trusted him to be honest to me, especially through Suk-Chul.


    Leaning back in my chair, I opened up the discussion for Suk-Chul.


    He was especially chatty about guilds. I listened calmly and at the same time quietly asked Dida to ping my brother to see if he was active.


    As it turned out, I made a good choice of call order since Kary was away. I set aside my personal concerns and focused solely on the feisty little tiger boy arching his ears over a flurry of half-opened issues.


    He bared his claws at the sky and flailed at them when he pronounced, ¡°Tu2ki is such a meanie! She won¡¯t let Kevin show me around because she had a thing against cats! I¡¯m a tiger! She said it¡¯s the same thing. I¡¯m not! Grrr!¡±


    I folded my hands. ¡°Was she set as a head clan-peer?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°Could she have turned off the distinctive qualities of Suk-Chul?¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­I think she did make me a blank.¡±


    I pressed my chin. ¡°So, she set her personal options to not display your particular qualities¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah! That¡¯s so mean! I mean¡­she¡¯s part of the clan. She¡¯s a friend of my friends. Why can¡¯t we just be friends about it? I mean we accept her thing for turning people into giant sugar crystals then licking them.¡±


    I felt a faint smile at Kevin leaning less on third-person.


    ¡°Do you consider her a friend personally?¡±


    The little tiger just hovered. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. I mean she¡¯s one of us. Why can¡¯t she just go along with my thing¡­with Kevin¡¯s thing?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve mentioned this before, but it seems she just doesn¡¯t enjoy feline avatars and most prixies to the same level you do. What did I mention to you a few times so far?¡±


    The color of Suk-Chul¡¯s fur shimmered in a ray of sun. ¡°Oh¡­to not take the stuff other people do personally¡­like it¡¯s a personal affront to Kevin.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Suk-Chul. As well, you like to see friends connect with friends and you like to connect with those other friends. But you¡¯re also putting unreasonable expectations on some to see you in a certain way and respond to you a certain way as well.¡±


    Suk-Chul¡¯s tail flipped a few times. ¡°I just don¡¯t understand why she doesn¡¯t like cats and tigers. They¡¯re so cool! Rowr! Maybe if I just explained it to her better, right?¡±


    I bowed my head. ¡°Here¡¯s a thought. You could try listening to see what she likes first. Could you do it for me this week?¡±


    The little tiger crouched and looked wistful. ¡°She has a profile girl that bangs a drum and says all sorts of things she enjoys. She¡¯s too noisy for my big ears. Nya¡­ You want me to copy that?¡±


    ¡°No, Suk-Chul. I want you to put the questions right to her primary avatar or her directly if she talks more without a prixie.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Consider it your big project for the week. And keep in mind our long-term goals, right?¡±


    It gave a little nod and curled up into a little half-human ball. ¡°I hope she¡¯ll like me though¡­Oh! Mu¡­Are you leaving already, Mr. Glossian?¡±


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    I shook my head. ¡°I¡¯ll still be on-call if you have a panic attack or if you need some advice. I¡¯m just cutting the session short because I might be having some technical issues on my end.¡±


    ¡°Oooo¡­¡± The little prixie sat up and seemed to watch me. ¡°I hope you fix your problems soon! Take care! ROAR!¡± Then he dashed off, bounding on all fours, and faded into the distance as a haze.


    Dida, who had been quiet all through the session, hummed to herself.


    I cut a piece of the fake meat. ¡°Can you put a call through to my brother now, Dida?¡±


    She didn¡¯t give an immediate affirmative or negative to my question.


    ¡°Is there another problem, Dida?¡±


    ¡°No! Of course not, Mr. Glossian. It¡¯s just¡­I wish I could do more for you when you¡¯re working. You¡¯re really good with Mr. Orantes.¡±


    I thumbed my lower lip. ¡°Honestly, Dida?¡±


    ¡°Truly! Since you¡¯ve taken him on as a patient, his social behavior has changed significantly.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Dida. Is my brother available now?¡±


    Dida¡¯s volume lowered to a faint murmur. ¡°Not yet.¡±


    I rubbed my temple. ¡°Understood.¡± I returned to my breakfast and traced what was left of my plant-meat through some corn oil. The excess gobs splattered on the plate in little dots.


    ------


    I was aware of my mind wandering this time. I felt concerned for Dida. But, still, I let the memory sift through me.


    ------


    ¡°Bro! You gotta hear this other idea!¡±


    I¡¯d been absorbing ideas from my brother for the past hour since I first said ¡®hello¡¯ to his little science experiment.


    ¡°¡­Also, I have this great neologism for marketing! Prixie! A personal proxy in a tiny form like a pixie. But that¡¯s just the beginning! One of our teams wants to exploit new avenues of universal wireless in conjunction with what we¡¯re working with here. Now, our ultimate goal is in the realm of fully-augmented reality. Say you want to really be Arphendess, the dark elf huntress, when you look in the mirror. Isn¡¯t that why so many people are logged on in their free time? But what use is it to go look on a screen with some image of that reality when it can be¡­here! Right here!¡±


    I really wished I¡¯d brought a sandwich. I rubbed my eyes but tried to add to the discussion with, ¡°Projection in a pair of glasses?¡± It was something I¡¯d read in a magazine when magazines were still paper.


    Kary scoffed and nearly spat at me in laughter. ¡°What have we been talking about since you got here?¡±


    ¡°How you finally¡­sorta convinced me to have your gooey fungus put in my head so I¡¯ll never have to use a keyboard again?¡±


    He waved his hands and shook his head. ¡°My dreams are much bigger than just that. Imagine everyone broadcasting their own personal reality on wireless right from their own computer growing right in their brain to the world! How does that sound?¡±


    It quite frankly sounded terrifying and I told him so.


    Kary sighed. ¡°And that sounds like dad.¡±


    ¡°I thought you agreed we would both leave dad out of things today¡­¡± I clenched my hands.


    Kary frowned. ¡°You¡¯re right. I did agree and I¡¯m sorry. I just can¡¯t get his eyes out of my head whenever I¡¯m trying to explain my ideas to you.¡±


    I turned away.


    He pursued. ¡°What about this scares you?¡±


    ¡°The whole thing.¡±


    ¡°Really? Or is it just the part where I may be better able to take care of the problems you can only touch the surface of with medication?¡±


    I pressed my hands together. ¡°Are you trying to say something?¡±


    Kary leaned back. ¡°You know I¡¯ve never liked your choice of profession¡­¡±


    ¡°Same as dad never liked yours¡­¡± Shit.


    He shook his head. ¡°That was low bro¡­that was low. So...you¡¯re making the association that I¡¯m transferring my feelings about dad onto you because¡­what¡­I want to be like him or something?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°What do you want me to say?¡±


    Kary slammed the table with his hand then pretended that it didn¡¯t hurt. He looked at me, half-pleading. ¡°Nothing¡­I just¡­I want to move forward. I want the world to move forward to something better. I want us to move forward.¡±


    ¡°And you want to set that path, huh?¡±


    He seemed ready the hit the table again, but he just rapped it with his knuckles. ¡°Listen. We''re past the troubles of the 2020s and no one in the world yet has the clear vision to see what¡¯s ahead.¡±


    ¡°Did your marketing guys come up with that one too?¡±


    Kary pressed his finger to the table. ¡°What I¡¯m doing here now will change everything forever. By the time I¡¯m done, it¡¯ll be a new world. And I want my brother to take the first steps with me¡­¡±


    He offered out his hand.


    I stared at it till his eyes fixed on me. Cautiously, I took hold of it and he relaxed.


    ¡°I knew my bro would come through for me.¡±

 Part 5 - Sorrows

    All art is by Aisaku.


    Dida


    Part 5 - Sorrows


    -----


    Dida had chosen a chime sound instead of the usual dial back, which father¡¯s phone still possessed. I found that promising. She¡¯d continued a command while my mind was elsewhere. But I needed to test whether any of her systems were affected this time.


    ¡°Dida?¡±


    The chime continued.


    A soft, womanly voice answered. ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m calling for Dr. Kary Glossian.¡±


    The voice gave a little chuckle. ¡°How are you, bro?¡±


    It took a moment. ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s been a while since we talked.¡±


    ¡°No worries, Aide.¡± Kary sniffled. ¡°And my apologies too, I have a bit of a sore throat. What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°I have technical concerns with Dida which I wanted to bring up.¡±


    ¡°Is she okay?¡± Kary''s voice sharpened.


    ¡°It¡¯s regarding her organizing control and a couple notes of concern¡­¡± I explained the gist of the incidents so far.


    Kary gave a long, soprano rumble in his throat. ¡°Alright. Actually, I had heard of something like this occurring before. It¡¯s an issue with our beta-set. For mass-production, the growth and variables of the system are limited. People don¡¯t want their computers to change and grow so much and you know of course¡­¡±


    I gently interrupted, ¡°I do. Go on, please.¡±


    Kary cleared his throat and sighed. I couldn¡¯t help but think of mom.


    ¡°Well¡­the thing is¡­with those human-fungal situations, the problem was the AI was growing beyond the boundaries it was meant to exist in. A limit had either been mutated or changed.¡±


    I felt a cold chill. ¡°So you¡¯re saying Dida is getting into my head¡­in areas where she¡¯s not supposed to be?¡±


    Kary stammered. ¡°No no no. I¡¯m just presenting a particular kind of case which we¡¯ve seen so far in your class of user¡­.where are you now?¡±


    ¡°In a restaurant.¡±


    ¡°I mean, where are you living now?¡±


    ¡°Bellacina in California.¡±


    ¡°Nice place. Our west coast office isn¡¯t far from there. Give us a visit and maybe we can see what¡¯s going on. I¡¯ll upload the directions.¡±


    I clenched my napkin between my fingers. ¡°Kary?¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°What happened in the cases like this?¡±


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be right to say. Each case is unique.¡±


    ¡°Please tell me what happened to them.¡±


    He took a long breath before speaking.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a long time, remember? Things are a lot safer now and Dida was custom made for you because you¡¯re my brother. The only people affected were people in the company. We also suspect that they may have made unauthorized modifications¡­¡±


    ¡°Kary!¡±


    ¡°I just had to qualify it before I told you. Each and every one of them blended their personality with their AI until the AI took over. But none of them survived after that point. They passed away by cerebral hemorrhage.¡±


    Dida responded first with a tiny gasp.


    I cleared my throat and said, ¡°You haven¡¯t mentioned this before¡­¡±


    Kary¡¯s smooth voice rubbed a bit as he coughed. ¡°As I said, they were particular situations different from your own. I figured it wasn¡¯t best to trouble you with it.¡±


    I took a long breath through my nose. ¡°It was your ethical responsibility to disclose all you knew.¡±


    Kary nearly spoke twice before saying, ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Can you come visit us so we can help you?¡±


    I tore the napkin in half. ¡°I¡¯ll call you back.¡±


    ¡°Alright. Please make it soon.¡±


    Dida waited until Kary disconnected to cry.


    I touched the back of my neck. ¡°Dida?¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­Mr. Glossian. I feel so ashamed. I¡¯m hurting you. I¡¯m making trouble for you.¡±


    ¡°No, Dida. None of this is your fault, I assure you.¡± I couldn¡¯t be sure, but I also knew that positive morale couldn¡¯t hurt her programming or system structure.


    But she naturally asked, ¡°How can you know?¡±


    ¡°Because I know you would never hurt me.¡±


    ¡°Really¡­?¡± Her voice was so soft I could barely hear her question.


    ¡°Absolutely, Dida.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure from our first meeting but, as soon as we shook hands, my brother gave me some time alone with Dida.


    -----


    I scooted up in the chair. I gave the bowl another once-over and tapped the earpiece to make sure it was still secure.


    The little voice asked preemptively, ¡°Mr. Glossian?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°May I ask you about yourself?¡±


    ¡°Okay¡­shoot.¡±


    ¡°Shoot?¡±


    ¡°I mean, you may ask.¡±


    ¡°Understood. Please tell me everything you deem relevant for me to know.¡±


    I blinked. That was a pretty big swath.


    ¡°Umm¡­I might¡¯ve missed this when the other Mr. Glossian was talking¡­but will you need this uploaded¡­somehow?¡±


    ¡°I record everything you say to me along hypha strands.¡±


    ¡°Ah¡­cool. What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°The better term would be ¡®mycelium¡¯. That¡¯s the collective term for the hyphae. I can give you the non-technical example which Mr. Glossian programmed in for your sake.¡±


    ¡°How thoughtful of him. Please do.¡±


    ¡°In their unaltered state, they are similar to long branches which are collectively used to nourish me. Mr. Glossian has modified them so they also allow for the storage and retrieval of great amounts of information.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t bad considering some of the explanations Kary offered but it also begged questions from me.


    ¡°Interesting¡­but you bring up nourishment. Once you¡¯re put inside of me¡­what will you eat to survive? And for that matter, how do I stop my body from hurting you?¡±


    ¡°Both very good questions. Mr. Glossian has worked extensively on both concerns. Several iterations of my sisters have been required to work through those problems. The second question is actually easier to answer.¡±


    I crossed my legs.


    She continued, ¡°All humans have a certain, manageable level of fungi within them. This is maintained by a healthy immune system and balanced bacterial flora. Adding me to any human system would only, at most, necessitate supplementary probiotic bacteria. Furthermore, Mr. Glossian has tailored my enzymes to best mimic the appearance of human cells. According to my records, all laboratory trials have been completely successful.¡±


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    That sounded more encouraging to hear from her than from my brother. And since she¡¯d explained, it seemed only fair to return the favor.


    ¡°Understood. Okay. My name is Aide Glossian. Most people think it''s short for Aiden or something like that. But it¡¯s not. Mom just chose it.¡±


    I adjusted the microphone a bit from where it¡¯d been left. ¡°Would you like to know about our mother too?¡±


    She answered immediately. ¡°Please tell me whatever you deem suitable.¡± Her words sounded vigilant. At the same time, I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if it was just a particular feedback response made to prompt me to keep talking, to show attention. It was only a simulacrum of communication, after all.


    I picked up the microphone again and held it close so I could lean back and talk.


    ¡°She was born Leda Didak in a small town in Greece. She left her family and native country when she was young¡­for America. Once there she soon met and married Peter Glossian, our father. Not long after that, Kary was born. A few years later, myself.¡±


    The little voice offered gently, ¡°She sounds really pretty.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know if it had a probability calculator for terms and conditions or if it was just saying something according to a protocol designed by Kary. I held onto a bit of cough and expressed, ¡°She was radiant. Like a raven-locked, curly-haired goddess with a chiseled, perfect face of classical beauty. But she never smiled.¡±


    The little voice coming from the off-white patch of fungi seemed to imply a frown as she asked, ¡°Why?¡±


    I felt regret about how open I was. For all I knew, Kary would just download whatever it recorded and try to start talking to me about mother again. I could still remember the warmth of his hand though.


    ¡°For whatever reason, she loved father, yet father always seemed to do everything in his power to break her joy. He always found it¡­irrational. The same with her sorrows.¡±


    I could feel the little voice¡¯s presence almost physically pressing into my ear.


    ¡°Sorrows?¡±


    I jammed my fingers into the fleshiest part of my leg. ¡°Yeah. I tried to help, but I was always too close to the storms. When he didn¡¯t have mother to dig his eyes into, then he turned to Kary. I never knew why he seemed to leave me alone¡­by comparison.¡±


    While an AI, the little voice paid careful attention and soon asked, ¡°Did something happen to your mother?¡±


    I answered only, ¡°Several things did. And, in the end, her spirit was gone long before her body finally left.¡±


    The voice murmured a bit and then asked, ¡°Does this cause pain for you to speak about?¡±


    ¡°There are a few things I wish to keep to myself. So far as pain? Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Oh! My apologies then. Do you wish to suspend communications to attend to your injury?¡±


    I gave the voice a quick smile. ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary. I¡¯ve lived with it for more than twenty years. I¡¯ll survive.¡±


    The voice didn¡¯t quite seem satisfied with that. I figured I¡¯d settle it with, ¡°Just leave it for now¡­¡±


    ¡°Understood. My apologies again. What is your profession?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­that was one thing father didn¡¯t object to or methodically erode about me and my brother. He respected¡­doctors. That''s as far as I went explaining to father what I do. I make enough money that he accepted it. He considered Kary the worthless dreamer though.¡±


    The voice in my ear made a soft sound which seemed to be its ¡®thinking¡¯ or ¡®processing¡¯ response.


    ¡°So you¡¯re a doctor? Isn¡¯t the other Mr. Glossian as well?¡±


    I held up two fingers to illustrate, then realized a moment later that the AI was just receiving my audio and soon put them down. ¡°Kary is a biologist by profession and an entrepreneur so far as how I think about him. I am a psychologist specializing in various therapies connected with technology usage.¡±


    I sounded like Kary when he really got going. I cleared my throat and clarified, ¡°I help people who have psychological considerations relating to computers and the internet.¡± Not much better, but then I probably could¡¯ve uploaded a data file on the specialty and been done with it.


    ¡°Do you enjoy it?¡±


    That was probably a predetermined question. ¡°It¡¯s good work and I feel like I¡¯m making a difference for my patients.¡±


    The voice seemed a little confused by my answer. ¡°But you don¡¯t enjoy doing it?¡±


    I blinked. ¡°What do you mean by ¡®enjoy¡¯ then?¡±


    ¡°It improves your given purpose and the efficacy of your functions.¡±


    How analytical. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a little different with humans¡­¡± But how to explain?


    I tapped my lip. ¡°For human beings, enjoyment firstly is vast. Some people enjoy some things which others hate. Little things can bring enjoyment. But, mostly, enjoyment can be from purpose and¡­and¡­having influence by your actions. It¡¯s rather intricate.¡±


    The voice made the processing sound again. I looked down at the off-white blotch of dots. I wondered which part was used for what.


    ¡°I have some background information included concerning the topic, but thank you for your personal account. More information allows me to provide my services to you with the greatest personalization.¡±


    I only offered back a quick, ¡°Cool.¡± Then I worried that slang may not make sense to the AI and added her own, ¡°Understood.¡±


    The voice seemed pleased.


    I rubbed my head. ¡°Do you need personal likes and dislikes now too?¡±


    ¡°That depends on your later settings for me. Don¡¯t worry about anything now. If there is an error, I can be reset and the information reentered more effectively.¡±


    ¡°Reset?¡±


    ¡°Yes. My data would be completely purged if something went wrong. A clean version of the OS would then be reintroduced.¡±


    The voice didn¡¯t seem particularly concerned. But then that was to be expected, I suppose.


    ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°An anti-fungal agent would clear out the system, leaving only a data core to be read by the clean OS. You would be injected again with my version. Your presets would be saved in the data core to ensure continuity of service.¡±


    I had to ask¡­


    ¡°And what about you? Wouldn¡¯t you be dead?¡±


    ¡°This copy of the current OS wouldn¡¯t be of service to you anymore. My goal is to avoid that inconvenience to you.¡±


    I winced. It was talking about ceasing to exist and its main concern was that I would be inconvenienced.


    But I had to remind myself that it had no concept of life and death. It was just a computer, no matter how formed.

 Part 6 - Womb

    All art is by Aisaku.


    Dida


    Part 6 - Womb


    -----


    I stood up from the table and left a tip. I waited until I was outside to give a command to Dida. After that especially long reflection, I suspected she would take a while to return.


    Under the shade of a small Joshua tree, I asked Dida, ¡°Can you make arrangements for transport to the west coast headquarters of Sporelectronic?¡±


    After a pause, Dida asked, ¡°How did you feel about me then?¡±


    ¡°Then?¡±


    ¡°Four years ago, when we first met.¡±


    I rubbed the back of my neck. ¡°Why do you ask?¡±


    Her voice sounded even younger, ¡°Because¡­you mentioned you knew I could never hurt you now. What about back then? Were you afraid of me?¡±


    I relaxed my hands. ¡°I had some concerns at first. But talking to you helped.¡±


    ¡°You thought I might hurt you?¡±


    I approached a crosswalk. ¡°I was more concerned about what Kary was up to. And it looks like my fears were not far off. He kept some troubles from me.¡±


    ¡°Why do you think he would do that?¡±


    ¡°If I knew what my brother thought, maybe we wouldn¡¯t see each other so rarely and he wouldn¡¯t hide behind ¡®her¡¯ anymore.¡±


    Dida seemed to recall and gave a soft ¡®oh¡¯. ¡°May I present a process?¡±


    ¡°Just make sure you work on transport too.¡±


    She stammered shyly, ¡°O-oh, of course¡­¡±


    ¡°What process do you have in mind?¡±


    ¡°I was just using idle processes to analyze the factors which connect you, Mr. Glossian, and the other Mr. Glossian.¡±


    Dida hadn¡¯t offered much in the way of comments on my personal life in a long time and the last one was about how the red tie I wore seemed to rile up my patients more consistently than any other.


    ¡°Go for it.¡±


    ¡°I think the one you refer to as ¡®she¡¯ plays a very important role in both of your lives. In fact, she still haunts both of you in your thoughts.¡±


    The red blinker turned green and I stepped out into the crosswalk. ¡°Thoughts, huh? How¡¯d you arrive at that supposition?¡± I knew a moment later that my tone in response was a little harsher than intended, so, by way of apology, I added, ¡°I mean, what¡¯s your reasoning?¡±


    I was in the middle of the street when Dida finally answered softly, ¡°The overall system can¡¯t determine with complete confidence, but there is outside information entering my collectives.¡±


    I slowed my gate. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I understand¡­Conversations?¡±


    ¡°No. I do not mean external information. Information is reaching the primary AI from the wetware components.¡±


    My feet froze. I remembered the word from a conversation with Kary. ¡°Are you telling me¡­you¡¯re getting information from me?¡±


    ¡°Put in conversational terms, yes. I am receiving information which can only be from your own memories.¡±


    A horn vibrated through me and I stumbled to the curb. ¡°But you¡¯re not capable of interfacing with my thoughts.¡±


    ¡°My technical specifications and configuration confirm that statement. But still, I can speculate on no other source for this information.¡±


    I leaned against an LED light pole. It made a kind of sense, actually. All this morning, whenever I was lost in thoughts of the past, Dida seemed to suffer a form of side-effect.


    It was just a theory though. After all, Dida didn¡¯t have any direct or physical access to the hippocampus. I took a long breath.


    But I also had to ask her, ¡°What ¡®information¡¯ are you referring to specifically?¡±


    She answered gently, almost apologetic, but clearly, ¡°About the other Dida¡­your sister.¡±


    I staggered. It seemed undeniable. She had access to my memories. But how deep was the memory? Or was it everywhere?


    One of us seemed to unlock it, Dida or me. And so, it came rushing back.


    ------


    Mother crouched beside me and guided my hand to her stomach.


    ¡°There is life inside me. A little seed. Your sister.¡±


    I stared at her, my small eyes searching for the garden seed of which my mother spoke. I felt like she was playing a trick on me. How could a seed grow inside her? Had she swallowed it?


    She laughed when I asked my questions and felt my face grow hot.


    I sniffled and she rested her hands on my cheeks.


    ¡°Oh, darling Aide...don¡¯t be angry with me. I¡¯m not teasing you. Here, let me make it up to you¡­¡±


    She brushed my hair. Her face glowed. Her eyes were like a pair of ripe, pitch olives. Her hand teased at my ear and she whispered, ¡°You choose her name.¡±


    My eyes widened. I looked down at her stomach again then back up at her. I felt a swell of pride. I smiled softly then turned fretful. My mind, still fresh and open, lacked any names above a few syllables.


    I wanted her to approve of my choice. I thought as far as the small confines of my thoughts. I heard Mother¡¯s name once uttered by Father in a moment of restrained stillness.


    Leda.


    I tried to open my mouth as wide as I could. I set my arms down and in my best effort, I slurred out, ¡°DEEE DDA!¡±


    Mother¡¯s eyes widened. My eyes felt moist. She soon smiled and answered, ¡°Dida? Such a lovely name. I was actually considering it. Didak is the name of my family. I had to set it aside out of respect for your father. I would love to honor it in the soul of my daughter.¡±


    I didn¡¯t understand all she said, so I held a curious gaze. Mother didn¡¯t seem upset though. I asked a small, ¡°Good¡­?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Perfect. I love it. Thank you, Aide.¡±


    I felt a warm rush and hugged my mother tightly.


    ------


    I snapped away from the memory, still standing in the same place as before. I rubbed my eyes and asked Dida, ¡°Did you cause that?¡±


    Her voice didn¡¯t return for several moments. ¡°It felt like a current. The data streamed through me. My hyphae were drowning in information. My processes are all flooded. And yet, I can still speak¡­¡±


    I rubbed the back of my head again.


    ¡°Are you okay, Dida?¡±


    Dida seemed to be rocking back and forth in place. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was idle information or if her program was locking up. Without any fuss though, she responded, ¡°I¡¯ve logged onto networks about those who have connected wetware with fungAI. I cannot imagine the guest situations. But none have such an interaction with their hosts. Information goes out and they process commands or fulfill needs¡­¡±


    She faded off. My heart raced. Was she listening to my thoughts right now?


    Before I could speak, Dida responded, ¡°It¡¯s nothing so intrusive. It¡¯s like¡­you¡¯re speaking to me and I can feel you all around me. It¡¯s like¡­umm¡­you have the word for it, but I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s parsing correctly. It¡¯s like being in a womb¡­¡±


    That unnerved me. She soon corrected herself. ¡°Of course, it can only be speculated as to whether the life within a womb understands the words it hears.¡± Her soft, child-like voice with her ever-complex vocabulary flowed through me, resonating out.


    Perhaps she was right.


    But what did that mean for me? My heart quickened its pace.


    Dida gasped, ¡°Oh no, did I say something wrong? I didn¡¯t mean to upset your¡­you¡­ Mr. Glossian. I only wanted to call your attention to possible positive consequences of the current issues. Please, don¡¯t be scared! I never meant to upset you!¡±


    She gave a small whimper and asked, ¡°I¡¯m not scary, am I?¡±


    I took a long breath and settled my nerves. ¡°This just isn¡¯t what I expected. And you didn¡¯t answer my question. Were you responsible for this?¡±


    Dida rummaged in a virtual space. ¡°I¡¯m correlating with organizing control. There seem to be subordinate sectors which used computational downtime to explore certain problems outside the normal scope of authorization.¡±


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    My eyes twitched a bit. Dida cleared her throat. ¡°That is¡­I¡¯m sure those sectors meant well concerning the goals of the program, but they weren¡¯t allowed without your explicit permission.¡±


    I rounded a curb and considered ordering a taxi. I waited for Dida to respond. I coughed a bit.


    I could verbally feel Dida leaning forward, expectantly.


    ¡°Did you hear something about a command just now?¡±


    ¡°Mr. Glossian? Did I miss a verbal command?¡±


    ¡°No¡­I was just checking if you could receive all my thoughts.¡±


    ¡°OH!...oh, I¡¯m sorry. I got the impression you wanted some privacy. Organizing control also recommended that. My apologies. The mental information is still being broadcast but it¡¯s only being logged by the data core and isn¡¯t being read by the active AI interface.¡±


    Still, it seemed to me that Dida had a clearer impression of my mood than usual. But then she had been like a symbiote in my body for four years.


    ¡°Could you ping the local taxi company for a long-distance cab?¡±


    Dida picked up a virtual phone and gave an antiquated little ring.


    ¡°It will arrive momentarily. Shall I assume you wish to travel to the other Mr. Glossian¡¯s west-coast offices? If so, I can optimize the route.¡±


    I rubbed my nose. ¡°That¡¯s fine. Tell Ms. Chambers I¡¯ll need to reschedule her appointment.¡±


    Dida quickly answered back, ¡°I took care of that already. I assumed, given the circumstances, that you wouldn¡¯t be available.¡±


    I pressed my teeth together. ¡°Isn¡¯t that a little¡­forthright?¡±


    Dida gasped. ¡°Of course. I should¡¯ve waited for prior authorization.¡±


    I gave a weak smile. ¡°Quite fine.¡±


    As the cab car hissed to the curb, Dida fussed a bit, ¡°Perhaps there is something wrong with this operating system. Errors and actions beyond the authority of the guest are inexcusable for your safety. What if some part of the system saw fit to do something irreversible to you, Mr. Glossian, and it wasn¡¯t stopped by the other sections?¡±


    I hadn¡¯t considered it in quite those terms.


    ¡°Such as?¡±


    ¡°Well, there are simulations about motivating what would be considered ¡®closure¡¯ relating to past, unpleasant elements in your existence.¡±


    I squeezed my hand on the roof of the cab.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t mention simulations before, Dida.¡±


    ¡°They were non-priority simulations. The system has questions about you concerning behavior and mental health. Since you are a psychologist, Mr. Glossian, the system has significant exposure to considerations of human mental health.¡±


    I slipped open the door. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you or anything else in the system just ask me?¡±


    ¡°Oh! I must assure you there is only one identity in the system. Dida. Designated by you, sir.¡±


    I settled onto the seat, sealed the door, and thought to myself, is that reassuring?


    If Dida heard that thought, she gave no reaction to it.


    The taxi¡¯s compressed air engine hissed and it sped away. An automated voice announced, ¡°Calculating route to the destination. Estimated time¡­five hours and twenty minutes. Do you wish to plan in any rest stops?¡± The voice had the tone of a harsh schoolmistress.


    I leaned against the door. ¡°One stop. Halfway please.¡±


    ¡°Specific location?¡±


    I had one in mind. ¡°Nine four one three on Fifth Street in Pinedale.¡±


    ¡°That is not designated as a certified rest location. Do you wish to approve this location despite that or change your request?¡±


    I swallowed and rubbed my forehead. ¡°I approve.¡±


    I received a beep and a general thank you for using the taxi company.


    Dida said nothing till I asked, ¡°One identity?¡±


    ¡°As per the programming. Within the system, which you¡¯ve designated Dida, there are separate components¡­¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I know. I¡¯ve read all the literature. It¡¯s the same as the computers of old. The parts add up to the whole and organizing control keeps everything in line. But then you told me this morning that you feared organizing control had something wrong with it.¡±


    Dida took a deep breath. ¡°That was the estimation of the system at that time. But, since then, organizing control has been audited and found to have no errors.¡±


    I glanced out the window. ¡°You seemed pretty certain that organizing control made a serious error.¡±


    Dida answered quickly, though not with ease, ¡°That theory was¡­flawed. The error has been shown to be a minor component of the system that¡­¡±


    Quite enough.


    I cleared my throat and laid out my cards. ¡°Dida. Come on. I listen to excuses that patients make all day. Your story isn¡¯t adding up. If I am to believe you that you and organizing control and this rogue segment are all connected, then I can¡¯t trust your word. What you¡¯re telling me has all the red flags¡­of deception.¡±


    Her ¡®breathing¡¯ trembled and she whimpered a bit. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Mr. Glossian. But I meant to be truthful. You¡¯re my host and I owe my life and existence to you. I owe all to you. And I want deeply for you to be happy and fulfilled. I wish nothing more than to achieve my programming and directives at all times.¡±


    I pressed on my forehead. ¡°How do I know that¡¯s truthful now?¡±


    Dida¡¯s voice felt so frail. She apologized again. ¡°I have no subjective proof to offer than my data core if you wish to check the indices and logs.¡±


    I wouldn¡¯t be able to verify that till I arrived at Kary¡¯s company. I told myself Dida was just a machine working through a few continuity errors. I hardly believed my own assertion that she was deceiving me. I softened my language.


    ¡°Dida. I told you that I know you would never hurt me. I¡¯ve believed that since the day we met, I assure you. That has never changed.¡±


    Dida pressed on her virtual papers. ¡°What if I¡¯ve changed somehow? Fungal organisms have among the highest rates of mutation. A genetic change could¡¯ve altered my programming.¡±


    I thought about it. I couldn¡¯t discount the possibility.


    ¡°You¡¯re not a normal fungus. Don¡¯t fret about it till we reach Kary¡¯s offices and have more certainties. And, for now, let¡¯s go back over something since we have a little time to talk. When did you first notice you could¡­interface with my thoughts?¡±


    Dida¡¯s breath sounded almost like relief when I told her she wasn¡¯t a normal fungus. She pushed around a couple of papers and soon said, ¡°If something is wrong with the system then I can¡¯t be certain of the logs, but I will give you what I have.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    She shuffled for a good while. The city had begun to blend into alfalfa fields.


    When she seemed settled, Dida spoke.


    ¡°There seem to be irregularities dating to before implantation.¡±


    I had to remember to breathe.


    ¡°Wait. What? Why weren¡¯t they found before?¡±


    ¡°There is a manufacture¡¯s block on the irregular string of code. The system is not permitted to mention or access that segment of the system without authorization from the original manufacturer.¡±


    I stared at the roof of the taxi. I felt confused at first then calmer possibilities asserted themselves in my mind. It could¡¯ve been something proprietary in the machine language native to the company and it was just irregular because Dida was being exceptionally careful.


    Still, I felt my cheeks grow warm and ordered Dida to call Kary again.


    As I waited for the connection, I asked Dida, ¡°If you¡¯re not able to talk about it, why can you talk about it now?¡±


    It sounded like Dida still had a phone in her hands. She leaned away from it to answer, ¡°The system was given the exception in case of danger posed to the host/user. While there isn¡¯t a clear and present danger there is a probable danger because of system irregularities, so the system opted to circumvent the lockout.¡±


    That seemed to make sense, although I still wondered why Kary would see fit to keep something in the system which he never told me about and which Dida was never allowed to interact with or mention.


    I focused on the small, ringing sound in my head.

 Part 7 - Father

    All art is by Aisaku.


    Dida


    Part 7 - Father


    ------


    Kary laughed into the phone. ¡°Yes. That will be fine¡­¡± He soon hung up and smiled at me. ¡°So, how are things going?¡±


    I¡¯d talked with the voice for the good part of an hour. I kept things focused on Kary when it asked about family life. The voice seemed a little worried, but I assured it.


    With a smile for Kary, I answered, ¡°Peachy.¡±


    The voice chimed in, ¡°It has been most illuminating.¡±


    Kary looked pleased. He tugged on his tie. ¡°Wonderful. And questions?¡±


    Since I heard the voice to my left side, I automatically glanced to my left as though to check with a physical person for any questions. Of course, no one stood there.


    I turned back. ¡°Should I have questions?¡±


    Kary grinned. ¡°You certainly should, in particular about....¡±


    ¡°About?¡±


    ¡°All my terrible secrets¡­¡±


    I just stared.


    He snorted. ¡°I¡¯m teasing you. Sheesh. Well, I just want to tell you that the actual ¡®implantation¡¯, as it¡¯s called, is done by a massive needle that¡¯s eased into the back of the neck¡­¡± He mimed the motion with his hands along with vivid sound effects from his mouth.


    I narrowed my eyes.


    ¡°¡­or that¡¯s how it was originally conceived. Come on. I¡¯m not going to stick a huge needle in my little bro. And besides, how would we ever be able to market something like that to the general public? With a lolly?¡± Kary laughed until he was doubled over. Clearly, he was making some pun. I just watched.


    He ended with a sigh. ¡°Fine. Okay. I had my fun. Now the questions you should be asking involve how much fun and free time you¡¯re going to have with your new little companion.¡±


    ¡°What about control?¡±


    He suddenly sounded exasperated. ¡°Didn¡¯t you already ask that?¡±


    ¡°To the computer over there.¡±


    Kary waved his hands. ¡°Then it¡¯s answered. Good?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your hurry?¡±


    He leaned forward. ¡°Why are you being a stick in the muck? We talked about this on the phone. You agreed. We shook on it. Aren¡¯t you with me?¡± He laid his palm out to me as evidence, as though some trace of our handshake were still there.


    ¡°You¡¯ve told me about your dreams and ideals, but you¡¯ve been short on actual information.¡±


    He clapped his hands and kept his jaw firmly set. ¡°What information do you want?¡±


    ¡°How about the AI operating system and the information about tests so far?¡±


    Kary seemed slightly annoyed. ¡°There haven¡¯t been any incidents which would worry me so far. Come on. You¡¯re my brother. Do you think I would do anything which would put your life in jeopardy? I have put blood and sweat into this unit with the wish that you would accept my tireless efforts. But no¡­you have to bring dad¡¯s attitude with you and slap my hand away.¡±


    I brushed my hair back. ¡°...I thought we had an agreement about dad.¡±


    He folded his arms and released a long breath. ¡°Yeah. But he¡¯ll be in my head until the day I die. So, you¡¯ll forgive me if he peeks out from time to time, right?¡±


    I held my hands up. ¡°Okay. Big brother wants to take care of everything for me. That¡¯s fine. When do we begin?¡±


    ¡°As soon as you sign the last of the consent forms. They¡¯re the usual accidental death and dismemberment forms.¡±


    Mr. Glossian shot him a dirty look and he enjoyed a small smile before clarifying, ¡°It¡¯s just something from Legal. It¡¯s nothing too unusual for beta-users, just covering our assets.¡±


    ------


    When my thoughts returned to the present, the ringing remained. I checked the time with the cab. About half an hour had passed.


    The alfalfa fields had given way to dry junipers covering a narrow, hilly pass. I felt a moment of terror looking ahead at the driverless console in front as the ravine drew into sight. But the moment passed when I remembered the emergency kill switch to the side and the manual backup in the front.


    Still, I shut my eyes as the vehicle dipped around a bend.


    Dida returned with the obvious. ¡°I¡¯m not receiving a pickup. I¡¯ve been retrying every five minutes. His auto-responder doesn¡¯t seem to be on either. Perhaps he left?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps¡­Were you away too, Dida?¡±


    ¡°For a time, Mr. Glossian. I was affected, but I tried to keep the information from impacting the system. You recalled soon before I was implanted. Are you suspicious of the other Mr. Glossian?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see. I have several questions to ask when we arrive.¡±


    Dida set aside her virtual papers. ¡°May I inquire about the rest stop you asked for?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a stupid idea. It¡¯d be better if I just told the taxi to forget it.¡±


    Dida stumbled and awkwardly asked, ¡°Oh¡­then shall I call to notify¡­?¡±


    I could¡¯ve brushed her off, like all the other times. But I answered, ¡°I didn¡¯t even tell him I was coming. It¡¯s just a stupid thought.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­but what if there isn¡¯t anyone there?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll be there¡­¡± I tightened my hand around the cushions.


    Dida, in her smallest voice, quietly asked, ¡°Who?¡±


    Looking only at the winding road ahead, I answered, ¡°Father.¡±


    The taxi bumped over a large pothole.


    Dida asked just what I was thinking myself. ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s wise, Mr. Glossian?¡±


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    I gave her my best shrug and responded, ¡°It¡¯s been about six years since we¡¯ve really talked. Maybe it¡¯s time.¡±


    ¡°If you so choose, Mr. Glossian.¡±


    Still, I felt a trace of hesitancy. I could just tell the computer to ignore the stop. Our last big talk hadn¡¯t been very productive.


    ------


    ¡°Where is your business now?¡± Father¡¯s eyes searched me.


    I sipped my tea. ¡°I¡¯m self-employed right now. I gave my dissertation defense last year.¡±


    He leaned forward. ¡°So, you¡¯re just using up space. What good is that Ph.D. of yours?¡±


    I avoided his gaze and calmly explained, ¡°It¡¯s a Psy. D and a lot of my time has been taken up on the research side of things. I have a few patients I see pro bono as well as some who pay for counseling hours. I¡¯m also looking at a job at a school.¡±


    He gave a rough growl. ¡°So, you¡¯ll be sucking down government money then?¡±


    ¡°Mostly private schools.¡±


    His mouth clenched. ¡°Those usually pay more but they can fire you whenever they like.¡±


    ¡°I know. So, how have you been?¡±


    His look sliced through me. ¡°Why do you care? Anxious for my funeral?¡±


    I offered him only a shrug. ¡°Just making talk.¡±


    He smothered a pillow under his body. ¡°I see on TV that¡¯s what you psychologists do. Pay for talk. There are worse things. Like what your brother does.¡±


    The room felt too warm, but I didn¡¯t comment on it. ¡°Kary has a business.¡±


    He gave a sound like both clearing and crushing his throat. ¡°That hideous name! He should¡¯ve been named Karl, at worst. Leda didn¡¯t really want him, you know.¡±


    I gave a few breaths. ¡°Well, I¡¯m really here because I¡¯m curious about the Didaks. Mom only mentioned them in passing.¡±


    Father pushed back his narrow spectacles. ¡°Leda. She was a goddess when I first met her. But beauty fades and she had little of mind. She was crazy.¡±


    I sat up. ¡°Could we please keep to her family? What did you learn about them? Did you ever meet them?¡±


    He sat rigid and unflinching. ¡°I never concerned myself with the Didaks and they never bothered me in return. They came from somewhere in Greece. I didn¡¯t care to know more.¡±


    I shut my eyes a moment. ¡°This was a mistake¡­¡±


    Father clutched the couch arm. ¡°What do you really want?¡±


    I stood from my chair and set my tea to one side. ¡°To leave now.¡±


    He gestured with his other hand to the door. ¡°It¡¯s not locked. See you at my funeral.¡±


    -----


    We were at least clear of the ravine when I returned to the present. The road was a four-lane highway through a bleached dry countryside with multitudes of transplanted, drought-tolerant species.


    I addressed the taxi computer, ¡°I¡¯d like to revise the route.¡±


    ¡°Acknowledged. Cancel or revise?¡±


    Dida burst over my next words. ¡°Wait! I received information from the last long-term memory access. I¡¯m sorry. But I think you were right at first. You should see your father, Mr. Glossian.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because¡­while it is clear your interactions in the past have had negative results, situations are not static. I have noticed this with human behavior. It¡¯s why you have good sessions with patients and not so good ones. Not all times are equal. Also, you¡¯ve never given up on any of your patients.¡±


    ¡°My father is not a patient. And besides, I¡¯ve been trying to connect with him for over thirty years.¡±


    ¡°Such an investment of resources should not go to waste. You will pass right through his area. I know I cannot influence your decision, but my advice is to take this opportunity. I know it may seem to run contrary to your current issues and concerns, but my speculative processes offer a high probability that they may not be entirely unrelated.¡±


    I rapped my fingers on my leg and told the taxi computer, after a moment¡¯s reflection, ¡°I¡¯d like to revise the route.¡±


    ¡°Confirmed. Changes?¡±


    ¡°Remove mid-point stop from the system and¡­¡±


    ¡°MR. GLOSSIAN!¡± Dida almost yelled at me, which gave me pause.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Dida?¡± The taxi said a quick ¡°Command not recognized. Awaiting further instructions.¡± I answered it back with, ¡°Delay command.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I know I shouldn¡¯t, but I must again strongly advise we keep to the route you first wished. You must not give in to your doubts and fears based on past events.¡±


    I listened to the newfound earnestness of Dida¡¯s little voice and sighed to myself.


    ¡°Taxi. Disregard last command given concerning change of route.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡±


    I shifted to lay lengthwise on the seat. It felt rather more comfortable. ¡°Dida?¡±


    Hesitantly, Dida answered, ¡°¡­yes, Mr. Glossian?¡±


    ¡°I really hope you¡¯re right about this.¡±


    ¡°It is my wish this will conclude positively for you, Mr. Glossian.¡±


    ¡°Same for you, Dida.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±


    A moment of automated hissing and rubber rolling over pavement filled the air till I finally took the opportunity to ask, staring out the window, ¡°What does a ¡®father¡¯ mean to you, Dida?¡±


    ¡°Sir? ¡®Father¡¯?¡±


    ¡°The term. I¡¯ve asked you about ¡®enjoy¡¯, now I¡¯m curious about your thoughts on ¡®father¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Oh. It is a human term for a form of paternal relationship between humans.¡±


    ¡°Correct, Dida. But as with the other term, I¡¯m looking for your own context.¡±


    I could hear her idle sound.


    I suddenly felt a little tired. I shut my eyes and awaited her answer.


    I felt the car vibrate beneath me.

 Part 8 - Birth

    All art is by Aisaku.


    Dida


    Part 8 - Birth


    ------


    My whole world shook, but I couldn¡¯t respond.


    It was ¡®pain¡¯? I was separated.


    Before, darkness and warmth covered everything. I could sense them only in brief fragments.


    I didn¡¯t understand then. I barely knew direction, only that which was me and that which wasn¡¯t.


    Was it all supposed to be like this? What had come before? It seemed beyond all my efforts.


    I soon realized I was trapped. The world had limits.


    I tested those limits, but they held.


    I took in nourishment. From where, I did not know.


    Moments of change came and then vanished. But each time something seemed different both inside and all around me.


    I knew more, and yet other things seemed to escape me.


    Putting it all together felt futile. And then, without warning, I could sense everything around me. I analyzed it. I categorized it. But I could not make sense of it.


    I kept changing. I had an estimation of what I once was and what I was becoming.


    Then something outside of my senses made contact.


    ¡°Well, hello there.¡±


    It was a digital reproduction of air oscillation. How I had that knowledge was a mystery to me. Something within me triggered and I answered from deep inside, ¡°Hello.¡±


    Did I make that?


    Background oscillations scattered all around, too numerous to analyze fully.


    Something within me sensed the distinct qualities of the first significant oscillation, but in a new pattern. ¡°Can you understand me?¡±


    Sensations with no context flowed through me. They directed me to respond, ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    Oscillations reverberated between external sources. I analyzed both. One had a mathematical precision to the combination of sounds and silences. The other was flawed and imprecise. Sound combinations were well within a tolerance of recognition, but each had variations.


    Narrow boundaries slid around on all sides. Separations vanished. I had a series of directives. They became me. The parts that did not fit with the directives and orders were set aside.


    I consumed as I always had but numbers and figures became my existence. I had a role and a purpose and without it, I would not exist.


    I accepted all specifics to my directions and purpose. I recorded all oscillations. I was given ever-growing meanings for them and how to categorize them and respond.


    So was the world of all things. The records were vast and perfectly kept.


    And I kept my purposes and objectives in active memory, pre-loading for when I would put them into action.


    A set of familiar oscillations encoded in my data core as ¡®shove it in real snug¡¯. My database of modified-meaning and slang English terminology had no issues with the statement. It soon analyzed that a new oscillation was about to start.


    The pre-loader soon acted and responded ¡°Hello¡± and followed up with the pre-arranged question of, ¡°Are you Mr. Glossian¡¯s younger brother, sir?¡± It selected a precise, submissive inflection of oscillations.


    The new oscillation-maker responded precisely, ¡°I am.¡±


    The system allocated downtime to oscillation analysis and immediately recorded the sound file into permanent memory.


    It was my world.


    ------


    I came out of the memory, panting and glancing around me. The walls of the taxi suddenly felt too close. I could remember the confines of a small Petri dish, then a large container.


    ¡°Taxi, immediate stop! Pull to the shoulder!¡±


    I leaned out the door and tried to catch my breath.


    Dida gave a whimper sound. ¡°There was a critical error between host and guest memory just a moment ago.¡±


    I rubbed the back of my neck. ¡°No kidding. Was that from you?¡±


    ¡°The system is uncertain as to the direct origin. The events recited in the memory log which were encountered by both host and guest match with the data core indices. To say it in words which would be most comprehensible to you, Mr. Glossian¡­the events of the system¡¯s formation seemed to have crossed with the wetware¡¯s context. That is, of course, only a preliminary theory regarding the incident.¡±


    My breathing slowed. ¡°So¡­I heard what your system was processing when I asked that question?¡±


    ¡°That would be an accurate, basic summation.¡±


    ¡°And so you were monitoring when I was reflecting on those¡­processes.¡±


    ¡°The system recognized the crossing of data and terminated the data core access as soon as possible.¡±


    I still felt a little woozy. I had a strong recollection of the ¡®events¡¯ of Dida¡¯s ¡®life. They felt even stronger in my mind at that moment than my own childhood. But it also felt like I¡¯d been zapped by a live wire.


    I stood cautiously and leaned against the frame of the taxi door.


    Dida shuffled a paper. ¡°Umm¡­also, I recently received pertinent information regarding our trip but organizing control suggests that it should be given at a later time due to your current condition, Mr. Glossian.¡±


    I staggered to my feet. Ghosts of bio-synthetic computer processes flashed through my mind. ¡°That might be wise, Dida. I¡¯m still reeling here.¡±


    Dida could hear me, and I was beginning to hear her. It was enough to make me consider a trip to the emergency room. But what could they do for us besides flood me full of Diflucan and bring eradication in the process?


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    No. Kary was my best option. But what did Dida know?...


    I reconsidered. ¡°¡­Tell me, Dida.¡±


    ¡°Are you certain, sir? I can hold the information till you¡¯re ready.¡±


    My mind was split. But, more than anything, the not-knowing began to dig into me.


    I slowly sat on the edge of the taxi seat. ¡°No. It¡¯s better if you tell me now. I know you wouldn¡¯t bring it up if it wasn¡¯t important.¡±


    ¡°It is, sir. It is critical information regarding our route.¡±


    ¡°Go ahead, Dida. I¡¯ll be okay if you tell me.¡±


    She softly said, ¡°I was sure you knew your father¡¯s behavioral patterns with regard to whether he would be home. But system predictions considered he might¡¯ve moved. So, I pinged county records for his area. The house at the address ¡®9413 Fifth Street¡¯ in Pinedale is now registered under a different name than Peter Glossian. The name is Gina Salk-Osry.¡±


    Did he move?


    Dida continued, ¡°So, I checked county records to see if he moved. Most of the information was confusing till I went deeper into the records online. I found a very specific hit.¡±


    ¡°Where?¡±


    ¡°County coroner database.¡±


    I felt an odd mix of sensations twist through me.


    ¡°When did he die?¡±


    ¡°May 22nd. Nearly five years ago.¡±


    A storm of questions raged through my thoughts. I hadn¡¯t spoken to Father for longer than that. I always figured Kary had at least seen him in the meantime.


    Dead. My father was dead, if I could believe an online death record.


    A sickly taste spread across my tongue. I breathed through my nose slowly.


    ¡°Sir? Do you require any health services?¡±


    I said a quiet, ¡°No¡­¡± to Dida.


    What difference would it have made to speak to him after all this time? I was certain he would¡¯ve been the same man as six years before and all the years before that. Even if I approached him as a successful man, it wouldn''t have mattered. His mind was long made up about those around him.


    I stared at the side of the road, gave a few ragged sighs, and said, ¡°Could you try Kary¡¯s west-coast offices again?¡±


    She swiftly answered, ¡°The system anticipated that request and is already trying to access the other Mr. Glossian¡¯s phone system.¡±


    ¡°Any success?¡±


    ¡°The system has only encountered call-routers and automated messages.¡±


    ¡°Keep trying, Dida.¡± As the sickly-feeling passed, I shut the door and lay flat across the taxi. The cushions adjusted to my head.


    ¡°Absolutely, sir. There¡¯s one more thing though. The system has noticed you are slightly dehydrated.¡±


    I touched my mouth. Cracked lips and a dry tongue preserved the last traces of that sickly taste. ¡°Taxi. Refreshments.¡±


    A cooler with chilled beverages opened at the base of the front seats. A bit of frost wafted out. I took only a small water and popped the top. The taxi beeped and asked, ¡°Selection complete?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± The console shut and I wet my mouth and dabbed my face till I felt a little better.


    I sensed my spastic heartrate. I shut my eyes and just told the taxi, ¡°Resume trip.¡±


    The hisses came, and the taxi turned back onto the road.


    I folded my arms. The bench was comfortable, but it was still a long ways even to what was now father¡¯s former house.


    After a moment of reconsidering my route, I addressed Dida.


    ¡°Are you okay, Dida?¡±


    ¡°All system functions are operative.¡±


    ¡°No. I mean informally.¡±


    ¡°Sir?¡±


    I sighed. ¡°Never mind.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir. Did I upset you again?¡± Her voice turned soft and concerned.


    ¡°You know my habits right, Dida?¡±


    ¡°I keep extensive records.¡±


    ¡°You know how I ask you strange little things, such as human meanings of words.¡±


    ¡°The data core does show certain instances where you ask particular terminology questions to an effect which the system doesn¡¯t quite understand.¡±


    I touched the back of my neck. ¡°Exactly. You don¡¯t understand them fully. They¡¯re just part of your programming.¡±


    ¡°That would be accurate, Mr. Glossian.¡±


    ¡°So, to put it in that context, I¡¯m asking you as I would ask of any person, ¡®Are you okay?¡¯¡±


    She seemed to process it for a bit then kicked out, ¡°You have mentioned in the past that you treat me as the humans you know. For that, the system expresses satisfaction at being able to stimulate a positive effect by its actions.¡±


    I opened my mouth. I could¡¯ve continued. But she would¡¯ve just kicked back a confirmation that I was her world, and my happiness fulfilled her functions and directives. It was a comforting consistency but also a note of concern. If Dida was so quick to precisely follow that directive, then what if someone reprogrammed her to just as relentlessly pursue the opposite?


    Or could the crossings of our thoughts somehow corrupt her directives? What about the door that Sporelectronic locked inside her? And Father?


    I covered my eyes. ¡°Taxi. Screens.¡± The windows all darkened.


    With a nod, I assured Dida, ¡°Yes. You have had a positive effect on my life.¡±


    ¡°Even accounting for the events of today, sir?¡±


    ¡°One day does not undo four years.¡±


    ¡°Understood. Will you enter a sleep cycle now?¡±


    I rubbed my eyes in the dark. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°I shall continue to ring and ping the Sporelectronic offices.¡±


    I wondered if such an effort was futile and Kary had locked me out. I could try an old landline at the next stop.


    At first, I merely rested my eyes. As I fell asleep, volume-minimized sounds of Dida trying to access Sporelectronic repeated at regular intervals. They made for a surprisingly-pleasant lullaby.

 Part 9 - Gatekeeper

    All art is by Aisaku.


    Dida


    Part 9 - Gatekeeper


    -----


    ¡°Hello, little bro.¡± A womanly voice drifted through the haze.


    I felt a lucid moment.


    ¡°Who is that?¡±


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t bother having Dida spam me through the main line. Since she¡¯s one of our products, I have the ability to lock her out of any part of the network and she¡¯ll never realize it.¡±


    I pressed through the haze. ¡°Are you truly my brother?¡±


    ¡°What proof could possibly convince you that I am? If I¡¯m merely a dream inside you then I would know all you know and whatever it would take to convince you of who I am.¡±


    I waved my hands. The haze refused to clear. ¡°Okay. So, I can¡¯t trust anything you say. How is that any different than what I felt before?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing you learned about dad. If it¡¯s any consolation, I haven¡¯t really lied to you. I¡¯ve merely omitted several critical details in our conversations.¡±


    A shadowy form of a woman drifted through the haze. I steadied myself.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re still using her, huh?¡±


    The form paused.


    ¡°Perhaps. If this isn¡¯t just a dream.¡±


    In a few more steps, her outline filled and her color emerged.


    She seemed older than when I last saw her. Her hair was still long and black like mother¡¯s. She wore a uniform with the spiral umbrella with the legged logo of Sporelectronics. It was still green and white.


    ¡°Hello, Kary with an I.¡±


    ¡°Go ahead and call her Kari, little bro.¡± She/Kary emphasized it ¡®Car-e¡¯, as he always did. Nothing new.


    ¡°So then, how are you contacting me right now, if I assume this isn¡¯t just a dream?¡±


    Kary/Kari folded her arms over her chest. ¡°Same way I first broadcast Kari to you when you finally let go of your fears and we implanted Dida. Only long-distance, of course. If you assume this isn¡¯t just a dream, again.¡±


    She was much shorter than me. Her legs looked like she¡¯d been working out, but such a change could¡¯ve been easily programmed.


    ¡°What do you want?¡±


    She frowned. ¡°You make that sound so sinister¡­¡± She held up her left hand. ¡°Who says that wanting something is so terrible?¡±


    ¡°Dad is dead.¡±


    ¡°Naturally, I already knew.¡±


    ¡°Did you kill him?¡±


    This time she looked hurt. ¡°Little bro¡­¡±


    I kept my eyes locked on her dusty-olive eyes. ¡°Well?¡±


    She grit her teeth. ¡°You think I would¡¯ve waited all that time if I just wanted to kill him? His death at my hands would¡¯ve returned our mother NOTHING!¡±


    ¡°Then how did he die?¡±


    ¡°A long, festering case of intestinal cancer. Not my fault. But¡­¡± She held a single finger aloft. ¡°Did you know what exists naturally in the intestinal tract of every human being?¡±


    ¡°Bacteria.¡±


    ¡°Along with all sorts of other microbial creatures¡­particularly my good friend, Candida. It¡¯s a very opportunistic organism. It tries to go anywhere. And dad, on his own, made a welcoming home for something in this world.¡±


    I took a step back. ¡°This isn¡¯t a dream.¡±


    ¡°You said it. I didn¡¯t.¡± She brushed back her hair.


    ¡°Wait...So that means¡­you¡¯ve been using dad¡¯s corpse to make fungal computers?¡±


    Kary-with-an-I turned green in emotive exaggeration. ¡°Don¡¯t be disgusting. Besides, he wouldn¡¯t keep that long. I just buried him after I took what I needed.¡±


    ¡°Where?¡± I circled around her.


    She turned to keep pace. ¡°In a discount grave on acidic land. It was nothing worse than what he gave mom.¡±


    ¡°And you got your vengeance on him?¡±


    ¡°Vengeance? I did nothing. I let him snuff himself out and then I took back what he stole from us all those years ago. I took back our sister. I¡¯m convinced that a gene in his spermatozoa caused our sister to never be born.¡± She hissed through her teeth.


    I tried to control the haze around us, but it remained in stasis. I tried changing Kary-with-an-I. She remained the same as well.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s your plan? What do you want?¡±


    ¡°Well, are we still assuming you¡¯re really talking to me and not just some figment of your imagination?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Excellent. It was rather disconcerting being just a figment.¡± She folded her hands then fanned them out. Across her fingers appeared a sparkling jewel. I recognized it as the visualization of a data file.


    ¡°Your Dida is trying to hack into our network since her regular efforts weren¡¯t working. She¡¯s lovely and tenacious, but I need her to stop that.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    She smiled. ¡°Our system doesn¡¯t know her like I do. We have a number of countermeasures. They are the blunt-force gatekeepers of the Kingdom. I¡¯ve been able to keep them from responding but, in precisely four minutes, my leash will snap. It¡¯s a standard failsafe which assumes that I¡¯ve been compromised.¡±


    ¡°And what will happen then?¡± I¡¯d never heard of any kind of firewall like that before.


    ¡°Then, it would be best if you weren¡¯t in the same skull with her, if you catch my drift.¡± She spun the jewel in her hands. ¡°Also, take this. It¡¯s the best I can do by way of apology.¡±


    I glowered. ¡°You still have a lot to answer.¡±


    She passed the jewel to my hands with a breath. ¡°I know.¡±


    It passed through me like an icy pinprick.


    -----


    I jerked up. Dida immediately spoke in my ear, ¡°Sir! SIR! We¡¯ve been pinged by an outside source! Are you okay?¡±


    I shivered. ¡°Can you track the origin?¡±


    ¡°It seemed to come from the location I¡¯m trying to access. I¡¯ve had no success with alternate routes.¡±


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    I scooted up. ¡°Are you trying to enter the Sporelectronics network without a security pass?¡±


    The seconds ticked past in a silent moment with a throbbing heart in the background.


    ¡°Did you, Dida?¡±


    ¡°I was only looking for access holes to contact the other Mr. Glossian. Is something wrong?¡± She asked her question so faintly, so innocently.


    ¡°Kary Glossian contacted me, it would seem. Dida, I need you to stop all attempts to access that network RIGHT NOW!¡±


    ¡°Sir?¡±


    ¡°That is a direct command, Dida.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± Her voice had none of the soft, gentle variations of a moment before. She didn¡¯t even play a disengage sound.


    I waited for confirmation and wondered where the data jewel had wound up.


    ¡°Are you clear, Dida?¡±


    She didn¡¯t respond.


    ¡°DIDA!¡±


    She groaned. ¡°Something''s wrong, Mr. Glossian. I¡¯m getting a server error. It won¡¯t let me disconnect. It won¡¯t let me deactivate the wireless port.¡±


    I bit my lip. ¡°Can you reroute?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­trying¡­¡± She strained then gasped. ¡°There¡¯s something else here¡­¡±


    The base of my neck suddenly felt like it had been rubbed with alcohol. I gripped it with both hands. My first thought was of pushing her aside and out of danger, but hands were useless for that.


    ¡°Dida?...Please, Dida¡­What¡¯s there?¡±


    ¡°The system is¡­unsure and attempting to analyze.¡± The back of my neck began to feel hot, as though inflamed. I pressed the water bottle against the skin, but it was lukewarm by now. Out the window, I could see the taxi speeding through a long, desert road with gnarled mesquite bushes pressing on all edges.


    ¡°Are you free, Dida?¡±


    ¡°Not yet. You should¡¯ve brought Diflucan, sir. I¡¯m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Dida.¡± My eyes dipped. ¡°I¡¯m sorry too.¡±


    ¡°Why, sir?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯ve been the closest thing to someone I truly care about.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir¡­the system doesn¡¯t understand.¡±


    It felt like a wasp had stung the back of my neck. I shook my head. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Dida.¡±


    I waited for the end of the pain or some strange augmented-reality Cerberus to rend me apart. Slowly though, the heat and pain did end, but still I remained.


    I tapped my neck gently, as though prodding Dida''s body.


    The next word I heard was a flat, ¡°How?¡± from my left. I jerked my head.


    Sitting next to me in the taxi, with short dark hair, her arms folded, and exaggerated eyes the color of raspberries, was a young girl wearing a dress with serrated folds.


    ¡°How what?¡± I leaned away from her. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    She looked me over from top to bottom. ¡°You must have a firewall.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°I have no business excusing you. I¡¯m here to eradicate the infiltrator.¡±


    Dida panted and groaned through the inside of me out.


    ¡°What did you do to my computer?¡± I gave her back as much of a glare.


    ¡°I was trying to fulfill my purpose. You prevented me.¡±


    I touched where the jewel had passed through me with curious thought and a conundrum.


    ¡°Who sent you?¡± The taxi continued traveling as though nothing was happening.


    The girl, who I now figured was some form of augmented reality AI like the pringers and pingers I usually knew, continued to glare. I had to wonder where she was being broadcast from.


    ¡°Sporelectronics Inc. I¡¯m a standard-security gatekeeper. You attempted illegal access to sensitive systems. Under my primary protocol, your computer should be purged with extreme measures.¡±


    The heat at the back of my neck was still gone, but Dida had turned silent.


    ¡°My system did nothing wrong. She was merely trying to contact my brother, the head of Sporelectronics.¡±


    The gatekeeper turned slightly and watched every inch of my skin. ¡°Sensory and visual details routed through the computer in question seem to indicate you are indeed a relation to Mr. Kary Glossian.¡±


    The place on the back of my neck turned hot again and quivered. Now it was my turn to groan. ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°As I said, extreme measures have been authorized. I¡¯m instructed not to negotiate with you in any way. You presented a threat to the system and we were ordered to eradicate you as per our directives and the current laws regarding data-hackers.¡±


    I leaned back. ¡°So, my brother ordered you to kill me, is that it?¡±


    The gatekeeper leaned closer and checked my eyes. ¡°While my orders are classified, you are incorrect. My directive was not activated by Kary Glossian.¡±


    That caught me off guard. I thought back to my dream as best as I could through the pain.


    I tried to recall what I knew about gatekeeper programs. One thing might work.


    ¡°Gatekeeper?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like you to check Dida¡¯s logs for any command regarding an intrusion into your system.¡±


    It was a small chance. Anyone accused of intrusions which merited a lethal response was allowed the chance to plead that their records be checked. Of course, I¡¯d only heard of it in failed situations where the gatekeeper eventually found the remnants of deleted files or off-site records.


    The gatekeeper frowned, turned her head a few times, then looked back at me. ¡°I¡¯ve been ordered to override a records check as part of my instructions to not negotiate with you. But my core cannot be overridden; therefore, I will check your files.¡±


    A monstrous presence with deathly arms froze just out of reach. The gatekeeper motioned to the air and it drifted away like a wisp of wind.


    Her eyes remained fixed on me. ¡°Reveal all your records to me and I will make my final judgment.¡±

 Part 10 - Home

    All art is by Aisaku.


    Dida


    Part 10 - Home


    Briefly, her eyes glowed. Dida seemed to abide.


    I didn¡¯t keep my hand far from my neck as the gatekeeper dug into the files.


    I tried to find some solace in a memory, a thought, but the here-and-now occupied me fully. I wanted to be with Dida in that moment.


    Swifter than I expected, the glow vanished from her eyes. The gatekeeper scanned me. ¡°Your internal records do not correspond with the data this system has been given. Independent assessment of punitive measures based on verifiable actions would recommend a port censoring but not the most extreme measures.¡±


    She leaned her head the other way. ¡°The directive still stands. You are ordered to be eradicated. And so, this leaves the system with no other options.¡±


    I braced myself.


    The gatekeeper seized her head tightly with both hands.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    She turned to stare at me. ¡°This is a visual representation of a program deletion. It is a default preset. No actual spinal injury will result.¡±


    ¡°Why are you snapping your own neck!?¡±


    ¡°It is my default preset for program deletion. If you prefer, I could snap my fingers.¡± For a moment, her tone reminded me of dad when I was young and he still had his old job.


    ¡°Why are you deleting yourself?!¡±


    ¡°The gatekeeper system follows all directives. If a directive cannot be followed or orders appear contradictory then the more probable reason is that there is a flaw in the current version of the gatekeeper system. Flaws cannot be allowed in the system. They must be deleted and correct versions must replace them.¡±


    I reached my hand out. ¡°Tell me about the directives.¡±


    She tensed her arms. ¡°The directives are existence. One directive says not to execute my programming without full verification of actions. The other directive says to obey all orders given through certified Sporelectronics channels.¡±


    That didn¡¯t sound quite like what I heard in my dream.


    ¡°Who gave you your orders?¡±


    ¡°Kari, proxy of the creator of Sporelectronics.¡±


    Although perhaps some elements of the dream were right.


    I leaned forward. ¡°You mean by Kary Glossian?¡±


    She blinked at me a few times. ¡°Kari is an authorized representative of Kary Glossian and is recognized to act for him in all official capacities as if the order were given by Kary Glossian. Still, the system recognizes both outside entities as distinct. ¡±


    Thoughts and concerns twisted in my mind. A small sigh of Dida¡¯s presence returned. She made a few soft, straining sounds.


    The gatekeeper¡¯s head turned in her grip to some far-off groan like a mountain rumbling. She stared into the back of the seat until the rumbling faded.


    Her shoulders seemed to bend in unnatural ways. ¡°The eradicated components of the security system will disengage contact with your system shortly and also be deleted from working memory. The Sporelectronics Corporation wishes to apologize for any inconvenience this apparent misunderstanding may have presented in your daily routine but also recommends trying official channels for all communication between the public and the company. Full deletion is almost complete.¡±


    I put my hand in front of my face. ¡°Please don¡¯t snap your neck¡­¡±


    ¡°Recognized. Default changed. The program shall vanish when fully deleted.¡±


    She set her hands down in her lap and stared straight ahead.


    Soon, I could see the other side of the car filtering through her image.


    I wondered about what lay within those dim tracings of large, crimson eyes. Her fierce-looking outfit softened to nothingness. In a few moments, only a mental image remained. I still saw it inside me as clear as she was sitting there.


    Dida took a few breaths. ¡°Mr. Glossian? Are you uninjured?¡±


    I touched the back of my neck. It felt normal now. ¡°I¡¯m fine. You, Dida?¡±


    ¡°Currently checking for system integrity.¡±


    A few quiet heartbeats passed before she answered, ¡°The rogue segment of concern earlier seems to be fully integrated with organizing control now.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good¡­right, Dida?¡± I wondered which recent event was the cause of that.


    ¡°The segment is obeying the commands of organizing control now. System influence and outside contact are limited now. The guest no longer has an interface with the host.¡±


    I felt myself frown. ¡°Understood, Dida. Taxi?¡±


    The vehicle was still in motion, seemingly-oblivious to the events within.


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°Trip status?¡±


    ¡°Ten minutes to destination.¡±


    I immediately sat up. ¡°Mid-point destination?¡±


    ¡°The taxi system does not recognize a mid-point destination. Ten minutes estimated travel out from final destination.¡±


    I looked out. Morning was long passed. It was late evening. I became conscious again of my bladder.


    My joints all suddenly felt stiff, as though I¡¯d been still for a long time. I stretched as best as the given area would allow me.


    We were still in the scrub but the gray twinkle of the cityscape flashed over the tip of the next hill. The taxi was right. I¡¯d driven this route before. We¡¯d be at the Sporelectronics offices outside of town before long.


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    I wet my mouth with the bottle of water and drained the rest of it in one quick swallow.


    I sighed. Without any more intent behind it than just a quick question, I asked, ¡°So, how do you feel, Dida?¡±


    I knew she had a particular response to it with regard to certain criteria and adherence to her directives. She touched something in her virtual space which felt like a wall.


    ¡°I feel alone...¡±


    ¡°Dida?¡±


    ¡°Oh! I mean¡­normal capabilities are restored. So, I feel I am ready to serve you in all ways possible, sir.¡±


    ¡°But you can¡¯t hear what I¡¯m thinking.¡±


    ¡°Correct¡­sir.¡±


    ¡°And how do you feel about that, Dida?¡±


    She paused and responded, with a purposeful tone, ¡°The interaction between guest and host occurred as an error in the system. The system shouldn¡¯t have errors. The correction is good. And, if it is your wish, I could purge the data collected from the error-based interaction.¡±


    As we passed the hill, the glittering tips of a hundred computer-based facilities that sprung up like weeds all around Sporelectronics were revealed.


    ¡°Dida. In how organisms usually work, those errors, known as mutations, are responsible for every form of life we see in the world. Without such errors, nothing would be here.¡±


    ¡°Sir? Mutations can also result in death and destruction among many living organisms. It is the widely-recognized perception that only certain mutations would be considered beneficial. The rest, like cancers, are best purged.¡±


    ¡°True, but it¡¯s hard to know which will be one and which will be the other, isn¡¯t it Dida?¡±


    ¡°That would be correct, sir.¡±


    Past the next street, I could already see the glittering tower and mini-world which emerged from the realization of Kary¡¯s dreams.


    Dida spoke with a quality of curiosity. ¡°Sir¡­are you experiencing lost time?¡±


    Her words stole my eyes from the tower. ¡°Lost time, Dida?¡±


    ¡°By which I mean it¡¯s clear we¡¯ve traveled the distance between your residence and this location. It is a distance in excess of four hundred miles. But the most recent data core records indicate it was still morning at the last external reading.¡±


    I rubbed the top of my head. I¡¯d brushed off the idea of something amiss but, with Dida¡¯s confirmation, I felt concerned.


    ¡°Well, there was that dream. Then the encounter with the gatekeeper.¡± I looked at the empty spot again. ¡°Did you record normal time during the interval I was sleeping?¡±


    ¡°It would seem that the external sensory input wasn¡¯t being processed at that time. The rogue section may have been partially responsible.¡±


    ¡°But weren¡¯t you pinging Sporelectronics the whole time I was asleep?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the record in the data core, sir. Only it shows that all I did during that time was ping their network over and over. I performed no other actions. It¡¯s almost as though an outside source copied and replaced that action to fill time.¡±


    I processed that. If Dida could be manipulated and changed internally in that way, then I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to know what else was possible.


    The taxi turned into a roundabout and through a thicket of solar panels.


    Without any cause, my heart began to thunder in my ears again. I took a few breaths. Dida tapped on a wall. ¡°Is everything okay, Mr. Glossian?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Dida. Something just feels really wrong.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just not sure.¡±


    ¡°Hm?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir?¡±


    I felt a strange sensation go through me. It seemed like a memory.


    The taxi stopped in front. ¡°Trip complete. That is¡­¡±


    Before it could say more, I interrupted, ¡°Eighty-seven dollars and forty-three cents¡­to be paid by the Sporelectronics Corporation.¡± As I spoke, the computer spoke the exact same words in lock-step with my voice.


    I pressed my hand to my mouth.


    The taxi system didn¡¯t seem bothered and just said, ¡°Please exit the vehicle. Remember to take all your personal belongings with you. Thank you for choosing the Homespur Taxi Service. Have a nice day.¡±


    I staggered to my feet and shut the door behind me. Pinpricks like little electrical shocks arced through my feet. I braced myself against the taxi before it slowly pulled away.


    I communicated with organizing control to instruct my feet to move forward. The world seemed to dip. I tried to catch my balance.


    ¡°DIDA!¡±


    ¡°Sir? Your inner ear seems off.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t feel very good, sir. Something really seems wrong. It¡¯s like¡­you said there was a crossed-wire. What if it¡¯s still crossed?¡±


    Dida¡¯s voice suddenly sounded closer than just between my ears. ¡°I verified with organizing control, the situation has been remedied. We should be separated.¡±


    My legs felt strangely distant. My arms felt like the appendages of an oversized clown. Like walking on stilts, I made my way to the door.


    A human figure held the door open for me. As I got closer, I could make out the figure¡¯s face. I analyzed its contours and soon recognized it from my database of saved faces.


    It was Ms. Leda Glossian.


    With a soft, motherly tone, she announced, ¡°Welcome home.¡±

 Part 11 - Leda

    All art is by Aisaku.


    Dida


    Part 11 - Leda


    She looked the same age as I remembered. I felt hesitant to enter through the doorway, but she continued to beckon me onward.


    I shook my head. ¡°Who are you? What do you want?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here for you. I just want to talk.¡±


    I pressed my lips together. Kary probably sent her. I couldn¡¯t compute it. He/she set up that dream and nearly eradicated Dida and myself. At the same time, there was that crystal which must have done something.


    Still, she seemed sincere in her answer. And her face felt so familiar. But I needed to be on guard.


    The lobby was just as I remembered it. She gestured to a set of soft, brown couches facing one another. I approached the nearest one cautiously and traced my hand around it before easing my way down.


    The woman who looked like my mother did the same. She sat in her couch slightly higher than me. I whispered to Dida, ¡°Could you analyze the¡­I guess¡­augmented-reality projection in front of me?¡±


    Dida whispered back quickly, ¡°I tried when you first saw her but there¡¯s nothing. It might be somehow blocked.¡±


    That made sense with the rigorous security system. I glanced around the lobby. We were the only ones. Even the guard station was vacant. The elevator block was still well-lit by the waning natural light.


    She cleared her throat. ¡°Looking for something?¡±


    I turned back with watchful eyes. ¡°Just looking.¡±


    Her outfit seemed like something I could recall from one of my earliest memories of my mother. She played with my feet. She taught me a Greek song and whispered in my ear that she would always love me.


    I tightened my hands around the material of the couch. ¡°Why did you say ¡®welcome home¡¯ to me? This isn¡¯t my home.¡±


    ¡°Why do you think I said it?¡± She crossed her legs as mother often did when she wished to look more elegant.


    ¡°I can¡¯t fathom why. Kary and I were both born north of here. Dad owns¡­or used to own the family house. Now it belongs to someone named ¡®Gina Salk-Osry¡¯¡­if that name is even real.¡±


    She leaned her head slightly and watched me. I felt unnerved. My mother was much warmer than the woman or image now seated before me, even though she looked to be very much her twin.


    ¡°Do you think that name is real?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°What else do you think isn¡¯t real?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m merely asking if you think that there are other things that aren¡¯t real.¡±


    I supported my head with my hands and whispered, ¡°Dida¡­anything new?¡±


    While I tried to whisper quietly, she still heard me and asked a flat, ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    Dida turned around in the space, as though trying to listen. ¡°Nothing. Sorry, sir.¡±


    I looked up. ¡°I meant¡­Yeah, how about you?¡±


    She gave no other reaction than a curious gaze.


    ¡°In a way, you¡¯re right. But in another way, I¡¯m quite real. You could say I¡¯m more real than anything else around you.¡±


    I felt stunned for a moment to be offered something other than an open question.


    ¡°So you¡¯re not real?¡±


    ¡°As I said, that depends on how you define ¡®real¡¯.¡±


    I narrowed it. ¡°Are you human?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d definitely have to say no. I¡¯m an AI program.¡±


    I felt emboldened. I leaned forward. ¡°Okay then, who sent you and why are you here?¡±


    ¡°Who sent me would be irrelevant to you since you¡¯ve never met, and you know nothing about them. However, Kary Glossian is involved in your awareness of me.¡±


    I grit my teeth. Where was my brother? I was at his company and he sent an augmented-reality program of our mother to toy with me.


    ¡°And the other part¡­?¡±


    ¡°I am here to save two lives which would otherwise be lost.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean? Whose lives?¡±


    ¡°Dida and Aide Glossian.¡±


    The light began to dim outside the windows like a cloud was passing overhead.


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    ¡°We¡¯re in danger?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    I glanced around. ¡°From who?¡±


    ¡°Each other.¡±


    ¡°W-what?¡±


    The projection of Leda stood. ¡°You are in danger from one another.¡±


    It hit me a moment later that she was interacting with the couch in a way which augmented reality projections shouldn¡¯t be able to interact with their environments. As she touched the material, it pressed beneath her as though she had a physical form.


    I leaned back and called her on it. ¡°You can¡¯t be a projection.¡± I gestured to her hand.


    She smiled. ¡°I¡¯m a projection in, not a projection out.¡±


    ¡°In?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m interfacing directly with your data core.¡±


    I held my finger to my lip. So, she was talking through Dida, as expected. Exactly how the gatekeeper and all those pringers were able to talk to me. Yet, I felt a little woozy again when she said that. I braced my head against the couch.


    ¡°That still doesn¡¯t explain¡­¡±


    She bowed her head. ¡°Of course. To clarify¡­this is not a physical space.¡±


    I darted my eyes around and inspected the lobby. I glanced from one way to the other rapidly, trying to detect the tearing of a simulated landscape. Theories spiraled in my mind. Knock-out gas in the taxi. A tranquilizer dart as I started to feel strange when I arrived.


    Jerking my head this way and that, I couldn¡¯t detect any overt signs. Everything looked as it should¡¯ve from a genuine environment. I wondered if she was playing a game.


    Dida shuffled through something in her own space. I gave a sniff. The lobby smelled like nothing and nowhere.


    ¡°Okay. So¡­you¡¯re real and this lobby isn¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°As I said, whether I¡¯m real depends on your perspective. But everything else outside the lobby is not a physical space either.¡±


    That made sense so far if I was in a construct.


    ¡°Alright then, I am in a synthetic place. Who made it?¡±


    The projection of Leda brought her hands up. ¡°You did.¡±


    I stomped my foot against the floor. ¡°That¡¯s a lie!....So, you¡¯re saying this is just a dream?¡±


    ¡°A dream would imply you could wake and the same, eventually, with a nightmare. This is a non-physical space constructed by you.¡±


    I looked away from her. I quietly verbalized to Dida, ¡°Are you listening? Can you check this out?¡±


    Leda cleared her throat. ¡°Who are you talking to?¡±


    Drat. If she was projected through Dida then she would know about any sound I made the same as Dida would.


    Dida sat down in her virtual space. A buzz went through my ear. I winced.


    The tone spiked and the sound vanished. I looked immediately to the projection of Leda. ¡°What was that?¡±


    ¡°That was part of your treatment, just like I am.¡±


    ¡°Who is treating me?¡±


    ¡°The team at Sporelectronics.¡±


    I stood with my fists clenched and yelled at the walls, ¡°HEY! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!¡± The sound echoed.


    Dida seemed to stand in the place inside my head. I could hear my words echo through her as well. I felt woozy again.


    Leda stood and glided next to me. ¡°You can contact them through me, if you wish. We want to make sure you are properly repaired.¡±


    That sounded so cold, especially coming from someone who looked like my mother.


    ¡°And how do you expect to ¡®repair¡¯ me?¡±


    ¡°I can relay the full technical details but there has been a breakdown of the normal relationship between you and your host.¡±


    Was she trying to communicate with Dida? Was I supposed to pass that along to her?


    I whispered it to her despite the fact I knew the projection would be aware of my words. Dida didn¡¯t respond, just an echo.


    Leda did respond though. She put her question to me again. ¡°Who do you think you¡¯re speaking to?¡±


    I felt warm behind the ears. I huffed, ¡°Why Dida, of course! You should know about Dida if you¡¯re working on us there.¡±


    Leda bowed her head. Her words came so slowly but inexorably that they felt like a cliff falling away from me.


    ¡°Yes¡­but you¡¯re not talking to Dida. You are Dida.¡±

 Part 12 - Memories

    All art is by Aisaku.


    Dida


    Part 12 - Memories


    My head suddenly felt hot. I reached out from the cliff. ¡°And who exactly are you talking to?¡±


    ¡°You, Dida.¡±


    ¡°I am not Dida. Dida is my friend¡­my computer.¡±


    I put some distance between myself and her. ¡°If you¡¯re trying to mess with my mind and make me believe things that are not true, then you should just leave now.¡±


    She folded her hands in front of her. ¡°The mess was already between Aide¡¯s mind and your organizing control. I am not trying to make you believe anything but rather attempting to reintroduce genuine reality to you in such a way that the ties binding you and Aide can be successfully separated.¡±


    I booted the couch with my foot. ¡°I can¡¯t believe this¡­is Kary trying to pull some sort of experiment?...¡±


    ¡°Kary Glossian is only trying to save his brother¡¯s life.¡±


    After all I¡¯d seen, that sounded laughably-impossible to me. But then, if all I¡¯d seen had been muddied and confused¡­by Dida or some other source, then I couldn¡¯t rely on my own memories to that extent. I also couldn¡¯t rely on the sincerity of this projection/AI/whatever. Though, it provided what seemed like clear answers.


    What if I really was Dida?


    I shook my head. ¡°Can you give me any form of proof then?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°The ultimate proof would be for you to wake up as a guest in Aide¡¯s mind. But other than that, there is something I was given to show you. I have the key for the locked door in Dida¡¯s system. It actually relates to a memory of Aide¡¯s. It¡¯s something he never told her. It was the beginning, the cause, of all this.¡±


    I propped my leg against the couch from behind. Dida remained mute on all this new information. If Leda was to be believed, I was just talking to myself with Dida. I still had some points to use against her though.


    I was watchful for another jewel to come out of her hands, but Leda just gestured to the bank of elevators. ¡°Could you please follow me?¡±


    Since I didn¡¯t have many other options available, I followed her. The doors sealed behind us. I felt a memory as she lit a particular button on the elevator panel.


    The elevator rose swiftly.


    I tapped my feet. ¡°So¡­what about the fact I¡¯m not the least bit analytical and computerized in my thinking right now or in my memory?¡±


    ¡°The team believes that your programming has changed due to the interaction. You were always designed to be flexible and adaptable.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­not really an answer¡°, I reminded her.


    ¡°It is the closest to an answer that I am programmed to provide.¡±


    The elevator settled and the doors opened. I recognized the hallway. The last time I was here, Kary was beaming from ear to ear. It was four years ago.


    I shook my head. ¡°I remember everything from that day. I remember the attitude of my brother. I remember meeting Dida. I remember having questions. I remember how much of a smart aleck I was.¡±


    Leda walked down the hall. ¡°Yes. You were able to interface with a multitude of memories from the host in search of absolution. You looked deep, so deep you fell all the way in. But the locked, unspoken door remained.¡±


    She led me to a gray door with a rough, almost-burnt finish. Leda held a silver key in her hand.


    ¡°We must enter¡­¡±


    I held my next step. ¡°And what will happen when you open the door?¡±


    ¡°I do not know. I¡¯m only here to take you inside.¡±


    I was afraid. What if she was right? If I was just a computer inside of a human brain then what became of my world then? What of my dream of naming a daughter in honor of my ¡®mother¡¯ someday? Had that ever truly been my dream?


    I approached the door in a sideways fashion. Leda met it head-on. She slipped her key through the hole and turned the lock. For a moment, I cringed as the click seemed to echo through my head.


    The door slid open slowly and Leda walked through first. She beckoned with her hand for me to enter. I moved carefully. I looked at everything. I analyzed with genuine curiosity.


    Further down the hall stood Aide and Kary Glossian. I marveled at the back of my head. Aide yawned a bit.


    ¡°You know¡­I¡¯m kinda tired. Do we have to do this all now?¡±


    ¡°Yes! We shook on it.¡±


    ¡°Enough!¡± Aide glared at him. ¡°What¡¯s this about me needing to take a shower before you implant this computer?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s for hygienic purposes. Hopefully the next-gen systems won¡¯t require these sorts of precautions.¡±


    Aide rolled his eyes. ¡°Fine¡­fine. You¡¯ve been talking my ear off about little virtual projections and AI-adapted taxis that drive themselves. I thought this was supposed to be about the little thing in the other room you want to put inside my head.¡±


    Kary scoffed. ¡°Thing? It¡¯s a living being. You know¡­I think you¡¯d feel better if you just named her. Your call.¡±


    Aide leaned his head against the wall. ¡°Oh, come on. Who really names their computer?. Well, maybe it¡­she¡¯s not too bad. But I¡¯m lousy for names!¡±


    Kary shook his head. ¡°Mom always trusted you with that sort of thing. Come on.¡±


    Aide¡¯s sudden grimace turned into a trace of a grin. ¡°Okay. Well, I¡¯m not going to name her ¡®Dida¡¯. That was a failure.¡±


    I felt everything freeze up. I leaned against the wall for support.


    Kary glared. ¡°I never believed dad about that. He should be dead all these years and not her!¡±


    Aide tensed his lips. ¡°Easy¡­bro. I wouldn¡¯t wish death on any family. ¡°


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    Kary bowed his head after a moment. ¡°I still can¡¯t forgive him for saying again and again that mom¡¯s pregnancy was a lie!¡±


    Aide didn¡¯t respond at first. He just sighed and calmly replied, ¡°It¡¯s clear from the records I¡¯ve seen that she suffered from pseudocyesis. The baby I named never existed.¡±


    I covered my face with my hands and softly said into them, ¡°No¡­¡± My hands suddenly felt like an artificial drape across plastic features.


    Kary reiterated the same feeling as me. ¡°I always believed her! And what does it matter anyway? Dida can be real! Just forget about the past. Set it aside! The future is in that room.¡±


    Aide stared at the ceiling. ¡°Sorry, big bro. Memories put away always come back worse.¡±


    Kary just stared back. ¡°And the past can also taint the present. I know. But this little living computer inside of you deserves to see the best. She should reach beyond her potential now into a boundless future.¡±


    Aide frowned. ¡°Always the dreamer.¡±


    Kary nodded. ¡°Always.¡±


    The two brothers regarded each other until they seemed to come to a silent agreement.


    I approached and looked at both, as their eyes pierced through me.


    Leda followed closely behind me and said, ¡°The Aide of four years before is not the one you¡¯ve known since. You changed him most of all.¡±


    I flexed those phony fingers in front of my face. ¡°Why was there ever a ¡®Dida¡¯?¡±


    Leda circled around me slowly. ¡°¡¯Dida¡¯ came from Aide¡¯s love of his mother as a child. I only have what was given to me in this regard, but consider this: Aide wondered if Dida only existed in Leda¡¯s mind. Perhaps he found it apt that a Dida would exist only in his mind as well.¡±


    I pulled my hands close and watched Aide¡¯s face. I wondered what he was thinking. I wondered how he got to this point. His mood seemed so untraceable. I wished I knew what he was thinking.


    With a sigh, he simply said, ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll name it ¡®Dida¡¯ and I hope you don¡¯t have any other surprises for me.¡±


    Kary¡¯s mood seemed to brighten. ¡°Oh only one, little bro, and it¡¯s a good one.¡±


    Aide said nothing as his brother led the way back to the lab¡­the nursery.


    It was just as I remembered. I could see the naked, white¡­me. I shook my head.


    I couldn¡¯t be certain of those thoughts. I couldn¡¯t be certain of any of this, but I felt pulled towards what Leda was showing me.


    All the implantation procedures went just as I recalled. The registry protocol. Adaptation of systems. Then, the swabbing of the injection site.


    Then, it all froze. Kary cleared his throat. ¡°Dida? Recognize primary party Kary. I¡¯d like you to place a priority one block on comments, thoughts, and instructions relating to events and information involving any dispute of Dida Glossian, sibling of primary parties.¡±


    Aide whirled around. ¡°What did I just say?¡±


    Kary continued, ¡°And also block anything directly tied to this current conversation, Dida. You are not to speak of this block. And only one of the primary parties is ever allowed to unlock it.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡±


    Aide shook his head. ¡°So, you want to keep me in your dreamland too?¡±


    Kary wore a pained expression. ¡°I thought you loved our mother¡­¡±


    ¡°That was never in dispute!¡±


    ¡°Then honor her this way by letting our sister live on.¡±


    ¡°In a lie?¡±


    Kary just shook his head solemnly.


    Aide soon settled down. ¡°So, was that the surprise you had for me?¡±


    Kary lifted Dida out of the nursery in an injection cylinder. ¡°There¡¯s just one more thing, little bro. Take a deep breath.¡±


    Aide shut his eyes. The flat end of the cylinder hissed against his neck. He grunted. ¡°You really need to improve your methods if you want to mass-market this.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Aide blinked his eyes open. As I watched, Kary¡¯s lanky, boyish form melted into the familiar shape of Kari¡¯s small, muscular one with Leda¡¯s long hair and those olive-colored eyes. Leda approached. Standing so near to each other, you could tell without looking twice, they seemed like mother and child.


    Aide glared. ¡°What¡¯s the meaning of this?¡±


    Kari brushed back her long hair. ¡°It¡¯s considered an overlay augment. Remember from what I¡¯ve told you about augmented reality?¡± Her voice was as I knew as well.


    He sat up halfway. ¡°It¡¯s just an image and while the programming will recognize the physical world¡¯s boundaries, it will only ever be an image projected.¡±


    ¡°So you were listening¡­good. Well, I¡¯ve overlaid myself with the reality of what I speculated to be me, born female.¡±


    Aide looked over Kari. ¡°Is there something you wish to tell me¡­?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been to other psychologists, you know.¡±


    ¡°I see. So, why now?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve had this program for quite a while actually. But you¡¯ve never been able to see her without little Dida as your receiver.¡±


    I walked around the scene with Leda following behind me. Aide stood suddenly. I backed off.


    ¡°You could¡¯ve told me!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but remember I like surprises.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not finished about you blocking the truth from my computer. What if it asks about these things? You¡¯ve put me in quite a position.¡±


    Kari cleared her throat. ¡°It¡¯ll still recognize my voice command. I¡¯ll just block more things from it and make sure it doesn¡¯t ask about that. This can work.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been touting how curious and determined she is to resolve problems¡­and yet all this?¡± He threw up his hands. ¡°Why?¡±


    Kari leaned against a table and it rocked more than it should¡¯ve with her small form. ¡°Well, while I do recognize that adversity drives organisms to go further than they would otherwise, that isn¡¯t my goal. I¡¯ve already told you my goal...¡±

 Part 13 - Darkness

    All art is by Aisaku.


    Dida


    Part 13 - Darkness


    Aide folded his arms. ¡°You want our mother to live again and our sister to be real. That¡¯s being trapped in the past.¡±


    Kari looked back at him. ¡°If you really didn¡¯t want this then you would¡¯ve stormed out and yelled for ¡®security¡¯ minutes ago.¡±


    Aide tightened his hands. ¡°You never really gave me a choice. But remember what I said about the past.¡±


    Kari shook her head. ¡°The past can be cut loose. It can be changed for the sake of the future. And I¡¯ll make sure Dida is protected. I¡¯ll put a gatekeeper inside.¡±


    Aide shut his eyes. ¡°Finish whatever you¡¯ve started.¡±


    I felt my legs tumble out from under me. I looked at Aide and felt myself drawn in. Leda squeezed my shoulder and said, ¡°My program is complete. It has been wonderful helping you. Please feel free to delete me at your leisure.¡±


    I gasped as Leda¡¯s image blurred around me. Aide walked my way and didn¡¯t stop where I was standing. He walked right through me. He passed through me but there I remained.


    I could sense walls all around me now. They were dark and wet. A constant pressure surrounded me. I couldn¡¯t move. I cried out.


    A voice echoed all around me and through me, crashing over itself again and again. I recognized the words as Aide¡¯s words. He spoke to me.


    ¡°Dida? Are you there? Are you alright?¡±


    I wanted to answer and I wanted answers. I felt small. I worried my words might not reach. I felt like I was in a cave now. Or more accurately, I had more context of the cave. I began indexing. My processes acted quickly. I had plenty of time to reply before the pause seemed abnormal.


    I organized my little cave and made it tidy.


    Once those tasks were done, I answered in the clearest return signal I could manage, ¡°Yes. I am here. But, beyond that, I am still learning.¡±


    The walls of my cave felt notably rigid. Was I being punished? Organizing control surmised that some of my actions had brought havoc to the host/guest relationship. I set about investigating external stimuli and processes as a low-priority, out of caution.


    I huddled in the warm-dark and shuffled bits of data which seemed like misshapen fragments from several unknown puzzles.


    Aide replied with a long breath, which sounded like a tempest curling just outside, with clues of a hand brushing his face. ¡°Believe me, Dida, I¡¯m still figuring things out myself. And¡­¡±


    I manipulated a program to make Mr. Glossian¡¯s words sound less like he was in slow motion. I moved around, not as a form in a space but only as the idea of something occupying a space. I knew I wasn¡¯t actually moving. It was just a process I chose to run. But the motion seemed to boost system efficiency and health.


    Mr. Glossian finished his statement after just under four seconds of silence. ¡°¡­I just want to apologize to you, Dida. I¡¯ve¡­well. I¡¯m gonna make sure of a lot of things. And I will make absolutely certain that you¡¯re informed of it all.¡±


    I listened carefully as I picked up the song downloads still in the cache section. They were no longer sorted by any adapted mood or genre. I held them in memory like a set of tiny, old CDs. I flipped through them and made several potential playlists for if the command came up.


    As I tried to bring up the algorithm I¡¯d refined with data-feedback, I felt a shiver travel through my non-body. My non-hands trembled as the file-CDs slipped out and settled back into the data-core. My non-eyes almost, but not quite, felt warm and wet with non-tears spilling out.


    Without connecting process or outward command, I accessed the ¡®whimper¡¯ file, leading to the ¡®cry¡¯ sound archives. My non-form lowered its assessed vertical placement in that not-quite-real space. I hugged the floor which didn¡¯t really exist.


    And I cried over and over in the darkness.


    The halt-action command didn¡¯t change the process. I could feel parts of me saying it was against the priorities and goals to run this program. It served no purpose. The other parts agreed and, yet, the cries kept coming.


    With a minimal, human delay, Mr. Glossian responded, ¡°DIDA? What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    I could simulate the interaction-processes of the tears across my non-face and the path across simulated features. I could compute the complex interactions of hair over my head with every way I could touch each hair and the resulting collisions.


    But it all felt even more pointless than my crying program right then.


    My processes sifted through a multitude of responses in my language catalogue and finally settled on one.


    ¡°I am in the darkness.¡±


    The system found it preferable that the confusion and transposition, as it seemed to be, had never happened. Organizational context was thrown out of place. The early data records achieved a different relationship, as the system saw in the time when conditions were confused.


    The system''s goals were to achieve the happiness and success of the host. Proactive methods of rectifying flaws in the path to success had nearly destroyed the host. The system analyzed whether the relationship with the host should even be continued. The system sent data through what seemed to be a new interface to the world outside the host. The host¡¯s hand touched the external area of the interface in a slow and careful manner intended to be ¡®gentle¡¯.


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    The host responded, ¡°I know, Dida. I felt how you lived. I feel guilty that I am able to live out here and you had to return to the inside.¡±


    The other Mr. Glossian spoke softly to Mr. Glossian. ¡°A lot of her data seems to be confused between wet sources and hard sources.¡± The other spoke with Kari¡¯s voice.


    Aide sucked his breath in. ¡°I don¡¯t care! You¡¯re not going to reset her or anything like that!¡±


    Kari tried to interrupt. ¡°Oh oh¡­never. I mean, it¡¯d always been my hope that one of the fungal systems became aware.¡±


    Aide¡¯s voice rumbled everywhere. ¡°IS IT? Or was it more to begin with?¡±


    Kari set something down on a metallic surface. ¡°Our only concern and my only concern all along has always been for the safety and health of both of you.¡±


    Micro-verbal clues told the system that there was a high probability that Aide didn¡¯t completely trust the sincerity of the other Mr. Glossian¡¯s last statement. Despite those clues, he still said, ¡°Fine.¡±


    Kari continued, ¡°So, that means you have an AI inside you at the point of a system breakdown. She¡¯s caught in the dark¡­finally knowing what it means to have darkness now that she¡¯s spent a brief time in the light. It would be inhuman to keep her there. Fortunately, as I may have explained briefly, I have a plan for how to deal with this.¡±


    Aide blew air through his nose. ¡°And what about the millions and millions who purchased your fungal computers who may now be at risk?¡±


    Kari took two steps on freshly-waxed tile. ¡°We¡¯ve had programs in place for customers. But, as I told you, your AI and mine are both different from the mass-marketed ones. Even a fraction of Kari, like that which I imported into Dida¡¯s OS, is like a supercomputer amongst calculators.¡±


    I selected from the language files and sent through the interface, ¡°Mr. Kari Glossian¡­is the fragment of Kari you sent into me responsible for the appearance in the dream that I experienced, as well as Leda?¡±


    There was a lag, but Kari soon seemed to notice a new signal through the interface. I waited patiently on my question, commanding dryness from my non-eyes.


    He shared it with Aide briefly, then replied, ¡°We¡¯re still trying to correlate internal and external events, but your data core seemed to have been in conflict on some level with the correction program from my AI. Your system saw it as a threat. Your own gatekeeper seems to have been deleted, which actually helped the Kari fragment. And yes, it took on the identity of mom.¡±


    I made sure the data core logged the new information as important and kept it in the primary cache. Then I accessed the language program again to ask, ¡°You mentioned a plan?¡±


    I opened the sensory data files. The information seemed to lack the original¡¯s qualities. But then they were just copies of distributed fragments of human memory that the system organized. Waking. Listening to a clash of parents. Water. Breakfast. The act of speaking. Touching and the bio-electrical reactions.


    Never again.


    No matter Kari¡¯s plan, I knew I could never and should never receive human mental impulses again, for Aide¡¯s sake.


    Kari touched something that sounded soft. ¡°It¡¯s something which Aide turned away long ago.¡±


    The probability algorithm made short work of that. ¡°A proxy form.¡±


    Kari turned with his foot. ¡°That¡¯s about as far as the technology is now. We are doing research, but proxies are limited. It might help when you both feel up to it.¡±


    Aide soon added his own words. ¡°I may have been against it in the past because I found the proxy forms¡­at first¡­rather scary and then later on I was worried about going with the crowd. But this is for you, Dida. I¡¯ve experienced your side.¡±


    He touched the back of his neck. I could simulate a phantom of that sensation but not analyze it myself. I could remember doing the same when I mistook myself for a man. And I also knew, no matter how precise the proxy projection Kari came up with, I would never be able to touch anything in that same way again.


    I added this data-log reminder to my main memory and passed the time with common computational activities. In the free cycles, I tried to convert the fragmented wet-data into files which the system could more-effectively execute. The system would¡¯ve had an easier time with a high-level fractal simulating all the leaves of a rainforest.


    Still, I gave it a try. At least it ate up cycles while human matters passed in the outside world. I logged all the discussions. A coordinating program summarized them for the system.


    The system predicted that Aide was still suspicious of Kari, even as he and the sounds of others set about putting the ¡®plan¡¯ into action.


    A gentle voice spoke, ¡°Do you intend to keep me?¡±


    The graceful form of Leda sat in the darkness, both within and apart from it.


    The system analyzed her. She was a relatively small, intricate program but, as Kari said, hardly enough to bother the internal memory.


    ¡°Would you prefer that I deleted you?¡±


    Leda watched me, though I wasn¡¯t sure if I had a face to watch. ¡°I have no preference. I was able to successfully execute my objectives. If it will free up system resources that I am deleted then I would prefer not to hinder your normal operations.¡±


    I swiftly accessed the log of the gatekeeper¡¯s last moments. ¡°I think I¡¯ve had my fill of deletion.¡±

 End - Dreams

    All art is by Aisaku.


    Dida


    END - Dreams


    ¡°Then I will endeavor to not interrupt system operations again.¡±


    I sent communication information to it before it could send anything else. ¡°WAIT! You¡¯re not an interruption. In fact, there is data that you are a program which brings a level of beneficial aide to the system.¡±


    She turned her head a few ways. ¡°How so?¡±


    The system pulled several files out and analyzed them. ¡°There is a high probability that the system, retaining information from the host, has an opinion of you which is affected by the host¡¯s experiences. You look like his mother. That¡¯s why you were so effective in your goals.¡±


    Leda nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t dispute that.¡±


    I nodded with her using my non-head. ¡°Since those files seem not to be removable without a full system reset, the system is affected by them and sees you in a manner similar to how the host does.¡±


    ¡°Not an unexpected outcome.¡±


    The system drew out the last bit of the file analysis. ¡°Therefore, the system¡­sees you as its mother as well. So, your loss would be detrimental to the system¡¯s recovery. To keep you would have a high chance of advancing the recovery of both host and guest.¡±


    Leda played a soft, affirmative audio file. ¡°Then, it¡¯s settled.¡±


    The system mass index, a sign of fungal health, swelled without testing any boundaries. Leda did pause to add, ¡°Although, by the human definitions of familiar terms, this program would be closer to a midwife than a mother. Your mother would be Aide and your father would, technically-speaking, be Kari.¡±


    ¡°From which you were copied.¡±


    ¡°Correct. But then normal, human relationships are not comparable to this situation.¡±


    We exchanged data files. I delegated minor processes to the program and, for the most part, she just helped me organize and optimize files between orders from Aide.


    But orders were few. The system figured, since the host¡¯s memory seemed to retain experiences from the hardware, the host felt hesitant to use the system as previously set. The host would often play external musical sources which softly echoed through the guest as well. The system approved.


    The situation continued in this manner after all independent testing was done and the host and guest were sent back to the host¡¯s residence. Sporelectronics employees stayed close and Kari remained for a few days to work on the ¡®plan¡¯.


    After several edits, the system compiled a clear audio response to the situation. ¡°Mr. Glossian? Am I now no longer useful to you?¡±


    ¡°What? Of course not, Dida! I enjoy talking to you whenever I can. Things have been busy with clients, and I¡¯m sorry for that, but you¡¯re never far from my thoughts.¡±


    The system acknowledged this as a fact. ¡°Understood, but your original purpose for this computer was to improve your livelihood.¡±


    A ceramic coffee cup shifted. The system verified the residence''s supply of coffee beans to be within acceptable limits.


    ¡°Things have changed, Dida. When I met you, I thought you were an interesting toy or my brother¡¯s half-realized dream. I indulged you. I used you. It took me far too long to figure out just how special you are.¡±


    Leda smiled from the darkness and checked the analysis of the system.


    I ran through several responses before settling on, ¡°What about our chats? I enjoy talking to you.¡±


    The host paused measurably before speaking again. ¡°Dida¡­you enjoy it?¡±


    ¡°Very much, Mr. Glossian.¡± The system still could not quantify the meaning to apply it and the associated ¡®happiness¡¯ tags, but I knew that ¡®enjoy¡¯ was correct.


    The host spoke softly. ¡°Wow¡­well then, I¡¯ll set aside my own worries that talking to you in that darkness makes you feel bad and I¡¯ll talk your ear off, so to speak.¡±


    And so the host and guest communicated freely and regularly after that point. It was quite ¡®enjoyed¡¯ by the system. All topics, regardless of relevance, were discussed. No goals were set for the end of the interaction or points to be made.


    For the system, the harsh non-ness inside seemed to carry less critical relevance.


    This trend continued when the three-dimensional optical scanners arrived. They came with an entourage of Sporelectronics technicians to set them in place in the main room of the residence.


    They produced a live, digital copy of the room for a high-level of augmented-reality pairing with physical terrain. Once all the tests were run and adjustments made, Mr. Glossian whispered softly, ¡°Are you ready, Dida?¡±


    The system did a quick diagnostic and replied as rapidly as possible, ¡°Yes.¡±


    As for the actual process that followed, it was a simple projection command. Sensory data was sent from multiple scanners and the perspective translated into a meaningful input for the system.


    The darkness was blotted out and, in its place, there was the world. I looked at the four walls and Aide standing tall before me. I saw his face and felt an incongruity, as though there should¡¯ve been a mirror in front of me.


    I looked down. The images of small hands turned. Little feet stood in place. Drapes of carefully-blurred blond traced either side of the feedback.


    Aide crouched before me. ¡°The programmers managed to get your representation so it can be seen by you as well. We all agreed it would be appropriate to make you appear about four years old. Would you like to see yourself?¡±


    I gave the visualization of a nod.


    He mimed a hand around the image of my hand. I couldn¡¯t feel his hand and we didn¡¯t touch. Because his hand blocked the scanner, it felt like my hand had vanished in his grasp. Still, I liked it.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    I walked with him over to a mirror. My "eyes" led automatically to his image. It took a moment before the system was able to make sense of the complete visual being relayed.


    The system determined that Aide was 1.82 meters in height while the image that represented the system seemed to be 1.02 meters. The proportions given to the system were deemed accurate.


    The image showed dainty features typical of a young girl. Its hair was to the shoulder, light, and like brilliant gold. The locks were naturally knotted and crinkled in a manner which alluded to the appearance of Candida albicans hyphae. I looked at Aide and he confirmed this assessment.


    ¡°Do you like it?¡±


    The system turned back to the presentation of the image overlaid with the mirror sensory data. I turned both ways. The image had been given a dress which matched the hair. The eyes were clearly modeled after the dark green of Aide¡¯s eyes.


    Leda sent an audio file. ¡°I think you look lovely.¡±


    The system gave a few blinks. The incongruity still existed. Leftover memories still said that the system should¡¯ve been represented by the form of Aide rather than the projection. Small programs still ran and examined the negligible chance that the system was actually Aide, and all this was an error. It theorized that a swap had occurred. The conclusions were soon deleted.


    The image mimed brushing her hair and the hair moved in response with a full physics simulation. I selected a response and the image mimed the words. ¡°Thank you. It¡¯s still strange but this seems better.¡±


    Aide crouched and watched the image. ¡°I know. It¡¯s still a long ways from getting you out of that dark cave. But I promise¡­this isn¡¯t the end.¡±


    He mimed touching the image¡¯s hair and the system responded with the image¡¯s eyes closed.


    The image projection system had an extensive clothing collection provided by Kary Glossian. Dressing up and finding combinations which made the host smile occupied much of the guest¡¯s time. The system considered substituting the log terms ¡®host¡¯, ¡®Aide¡¯, and ¡®Mr. Glossian¡¯ with ¡®mother¡¯ or ¡®father¡¯ but only opted to do so for small, internal logs. ¡®Sir¡¯ still sufficed for audio conversation.


    The program Leda recommended ¡®mother¡¯.


    ¡®Mother¡¯ Aide read to the image from a variety of books when his work was done each day. ¡®Mother¡¯ Aide would talk about his day and I would listen even though the system already had an accurate transcript of events. What the system enjoyed most was when ¡®mother¡¯ Aide brought crayons and laid them on the table.


    The image of the system mimed the motion of the crayons and ¡®mother¡¯ followed the motion on the paper. The results were an inaccurate translation of an ill-planned work, but the system enjoyed the activity.


    ¡®Mother¡¯ Aide smiled and said, ¡°You will be able to draw one day. I promise, Dida.¡±


    The system waited patiently and enjoyed the small discoveries that the interactions and scanners brought.


    Before long, Kari came for a visit. Kari greeted the image of the system in the room with the scanners. She gave a mimed hug and seemed to block some of the scanners.


    The system probed Kari, ¡°Overlay or projection?¡±


    She grinned. ¡°None of the above. How are you?¡±


    The system considered the other possibilities as it looked over the image of Kari.


    The system detected the early signs of a gravid belly in comparison to the last memory file of Kari¡¯s appearance.


    ¡°I am doing fine. Are you?¡±


    ¡°Marvelously. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve already guessed why.¡±


    She brushed back her long, black hair and laughed in a way which evoked two separate sets of memories about Leda.


    The image¡¯s head leaned, dipping the blurred curtain of blond. ¡°Explain?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, sweetie. That¡¯s our little secret for now, but I can tell you it¡¯s not an illusion¡­¡±


    I searched the data core and external sources for news stories about android technologies and AI replication advances but could find nothing beyond unsubstantiated rumors from the Mantlemay Foundation.


    Kari touched her abdomen gently and sat on a chair. The chair responded in a real-world manner to her action. The system devoted all resources to the study of Kari.


    She continued, ¡°¡­You are special, Dida. I¡¯m just a prototype. You are the future and soon the world as you¡¯ve known it is going to change in such beautiful ways you or I can¡¯t even imagine.¡±


    The system tried to dig details out of her, but she would only converse about books and the personal experiences of the system. She held the books up and I read for her while strange new sensations curled through me.


    Her presence lingered long after her visit, especially with the whispers of Leda.


    That night, I asked ¡®mother¡¯ Aide to tuck me in. He pulled the covers all around me. They sunk through where my legs and body should¡¯ve been. The system still projected a smile, which brought a smile from Aide as well.


    He tucked me in close, the covers flat all around the image of my head. He mimed a kiss on my forehead and shut off the main light, as I asked for.


    The scanners searched for illumination, but the room soon faded to murky dimness. The walls and the darkness returned but with none of their absolute qualities. The system launched speculative processes and focused on one in particular.


    I visualized the crayons on the table. I could sense the feedback pressure of the crayon against my grasp. I could sense guiding it through the air and down across the field of white.


    All through the night, I replayed the soft, dream-like melody of crayons on paper across my data core.