Someone up there still likes me, evidently. Maybe the Goddesses smile on those who aid Reyvateils. Not that they ever did much for Mir.
I was wrong about her not having changed. At least, I think I was. There was a softness to her in my memories, a spark of fondness for life, guttering and fading though it was. Now I think she just exists because she's too angry to die. Funny, I wonder sometimes if it isn't the same for me. I think we'll get along, in the way a tool gets along with its user.
It seems fitting that after all these years she's the one wielding humans like weapons.
I can't tell whether she really remembers me or not. I think I'm beneath her notice. I didn't really expect any less, though in a weird way, I sort of miss her. Not that I have any right to that feeling; all I ever did was use her, just like everyone else. I'm just lucky I'm not on her list.
Sunday, 28 September 2008
October 8, 3420 -- Chess Fainrer's Diaries
Well, looks like I called it, though I admit I didn't think it would take this long. The Reyvateil Rebellion's now a full-scale war, and three guesses who's heading that one up.
By some miracle, I've managed to survive to see this day. I was sure I'd be dead by now, but evidently they were either too incompetent or too assured of their own superiority to track me down. All these years I've been wondering what I'd do if I was still around when she put the torch to them, and a couple of years back I think I finally made my choice.
It's suicide, I know, but quite frankly, these past fifteen years I haven't been alive anyway, so there's not much to lose. The only way this'll ever stop is if I find some way to atone.
I'm watching her now on the news-- hard to tell on this fuzzy screen, but I don't think she's changed a bit. Still that same look in her eyes I've never been able to get out of my head, the look a beaten dog gets just a second before it lunges. It's in the zone between pain and bafflement, the "why are you doing this?" look, and pure animal rage. It's poised on that thin, thin line between humanity and monstrosity. As she was when they created her. As they should have expected.
She's calling for the Reyvateils to come to her side. She'll probably kill me on the spot, but there's nothing left for me but to go.
By some miracle, I've managed to survive to see this day. I was sure I'd be dead by now, but evidently they were either too incompetent or too assured of their own superiority to track me down. All these years I've been wondering what I'd do if I was still around when she put the torch to them, and a couple of years back I think I finally made my choice.
It's suicide, I know, but quite frankly, these past fifteen years I haven't been alive anyway, so there's not much to lose. The only way this'll ever stop is if I find some way to atone.
I'm watching her now on the news-- hard to tell on this fuzzy screen, but I don't think she's changed a bit. Still that same look in her eyes I've never been able to get out of my head, the look a beaten dog gets just a second before it lunges. It's in the zone between pain and bafflement, the "why are you doing this?" look, and pure animal rage. It's poised on that thin, thin line between humanity and monstrosity. As she was when they created her. As they should have expected.
She's calling for the Reyvateils to come to her side. She'll probably kill me on the spot, but there's nothing left for me but to go.
July 15, 3405 -- Chess Fainrer's Diaries
not bto be melodramatic but I think thins might be the lats time i wirte in here. I'm leavingn this here for the police to find. if they care.
they knew, they knew all along or lese they never cared either way but now i';ve let the cat out of thebag it';s threatened their projevct, they;re more conecenred with hvaing the ultimate weapon than doing ehat's right and i don't think tey want to leave anyone who isn't prepare dto keep the screret. they've terminated my empolyment but i think i tknow what that means. really. i don't think my employment's goiung to be the only thing to go.
i told them they'll never controlher, soone nr or later she's going to tyurn on them, it's only a matter oif thime. i've seenm reyvatills before, if she goes opff shje'll leave no omne alive. she cna't be controlled.
adn i'm glad. i';m glad cauise they desevre to burn in hell for what thjey've done.
good luck, Mir. may you find peace. i';ll miss you. wellm, no. i suppose you';re more l;ikel.y to miss me. though i'd foirgive you for not caring, right now.
seems kinda like nmo one in the wlorld does any more.
they knew, they knew all along or lese they never cared either way but now i';ve let the cat out of thebag it';s threatened their projevct, they;re more conecenred with hvaing the ultimate weapon than doing ehat's right and i don't think tey want to leave anyone who isn't prepare dto keep the screret. they've terminated my empolyment but i think i tknow what that means. really. i don't think my employment's goiung to be the only thing to go.
i told them they'll never controlher, soone nr or later she's going to tyurn on them, it's only a matter oif thime. i've seenm reyvatills before, if she goes opff shje'll leave no omne alive. she cna't be controlled.
adn i'm glad. i';m glad cauise they desevre to burn in hell for what thjey've done.
good luck, Mir. may you find peace. i';ll miss you. wellm, no. i suppose you';re more l;ikel.y to miss me. though i'd foirgive you for not caring, right now.
seems kinda like nmo one in the wlorld does any more.
July 14, 3405 -- Chess Fainrer's Diaries
I've been making a horrible mistake.
I realised it today when I was installing in her. I was angry at her for the trouble she was giving me, clawing at my face like she was trying to have my eyes as I struggled to hold her down. The thought kept running through my head, why on earth did they make her this way? What possible purpose could it serve to have her simulate emotions this well, other than to make me feel queasy about doing my job? Was this some kind of a test, a hazing, an experiment to see how much I could stand? It didn't add up.
Why are you doing this? I yelled at her in my mind, though all that came out were grunts as I tried to keep her from grabbing my hand in her teeth. Why are you faking it this well? It doesn't hurt; you don't feel anything. You don't have any reason to.
And then it struck me, cold and awful in the pit of my stomach. It was obvious, but I didn't want to admit it: it didn't make sense for anyone to have designed her to fake it, so it must be real. Which meant she felt pain, and she had emotions. I tried to push the thought away, but it made too much sense to forget.
In retrospect, she probably did want to blind me.
I'd managed to complete the install successfully, but she wouldn't stop wailing. On the hunch, I took out my pocket pain-response normaliser, pressed it against the back of her neck, and gave her a little zap. Almost immediately her cries tailed off, though she was still fixing me with the most hateful look, breathing audibly through her nose like an enraged animal. My stomach turned; she'd reacted exactly as a human would have. I did it again, for longer this time-- a couple of seconds. This time, her breathing slowed and deepened, and her eyes went a little wider; not scrunched up and accusing any more, just confused, I think.
"You believe me," she said. "Why did you not believe me before?"
I just looked at her helplessly, feeling, I expect, as lost as she did. "Does it feel better now?" I asked lamely, admitting that I didn't have an answer to her question.
"It feels weird," she said, looking down at her toes, which were curling and flexing like she was embarrassed, though her tone was authoritative. "I don't want it there."
The pragmatic, emotionless part of me was nagging, you'll lose your job if you don't do as they say, but my conscience had already decided. As soon as it was clear what she was I knew I couldn't do it any longer. I told her to hold still, more out of a desire to make soothing noises at her than anything, since I could make her pain a non-issue; she leaned against me and took deep breaths, like it bothered her anyway. Maybe she was scared, I don't know.
She didn't really move again for ages, just stayed there being warm and alive. Now that I knew, the signs of her life seemed painfully obvious, all too affecting. Every little twitch and swallow reminded me of my crimes, making my heart jump into my mouth each time as if I was discovering the truth over.
"Tell them."
"...What?" It wasn't that I hadn't heard her, exactly, so much as my mind hadn't been ready to process her speaking.
"If you tell them what you know, they will be kind to me. They will listen to you. So tell them." She said it in a way that was oddly matter of fact, and managed to sound vaguely threatening.
Of course I was going to tell them. Of course. Not that I shared her faith that it would net her better treatment-- how could she have that faith, after however long living like this? How could she?-- but I couldn't let them go on thinking that she wasn't even alive.
Later, after I'd thought about it for a little while, I realised that I mostly just wanted to burden someone else with my guilt.
I walked out of there with sweaty palms and my heart raging in my chest. I didn't tell them. I don't know what to do.
I realised it today when I was installing in her. I was angry at her for the trouble she was giving me, clawing at my face like she was trying to have my eyes as I struggled to hold her down. The thought kept running through my head, why on earth did they make her this way? What possible purpose could it serve to have her simulate emotions this well, other than to make me feel queasy about doing my job? Was this some kind of a test, a hazing, an experiment to see how much I could stand? It didn't add up.
Why are you doing this? I yelled at her in my mind, though all that came out were grunts as I tried to keep her from grabbing my hand in her teeth. Why are you faking it this well? It doesn't hurt; you don't feel anything. You don't have any reason to.
And then it struck me, cold and awful in the pit of my stomach. It was obvious, but I didn't want to admit it: it didn't make sense for anyone to have designed her to fake it, so it must be real. Which meant she felt pain, and she had emotions. I tried to push the thought away, but it made too much sense to forget.
In retrospect, she probably did want to blind me.
I'd managed to complete the install successfully, but she wouldn't stop wailing. On the hunch, I took out my pocket pain-response normaliser, pressed it against the back of her neck, and gave her a little zap. Almost immediately her cries tailed off, though she was still fixing me with the most hateful look, breathing audibly through her nose like an enraged animal. My stomach turned; she'd reacted exactly as a human would have. I did it again, for longer this time-- a couple of seconds. This time, her breathing slowed and deepened, and her eyes went a little wider; not scrunched up and accusing any more, just confused, I think.
"You believe me," she said. "Why did you not believe me before?"
I just looked at her helplessly, feeling, I expect, as lost as she did. "Does it feel better now?" I asked lamely, admitting that I didn't have an answer to her question.
"It feels weird," she said, looking down at her toes, which were curling and flexing like she was embarrassed, though her tone was authoritative. "I don't want it there."
The pragmatic, emotionless part of me was nagging, you'll lose your job if you don't do as they say, but my conscience had already decided. As soon as it was clear what she was I knew I couldn't do it any longer. I told her to hold still, more out of a desire to make soothing noises at her than anything, since I could make her pain a non-issue; she leaned against me and took deep breaths, like it bothered her anyway. Maybe she was scared, I don't know.
She didn't really move again for ages, just stayed there being warm and alive. Now that I knew, the signs of her life seemed painfully obvious, all too affecting. Every little twitch and swallow reminded me of my crimes, making my heart jump into my mouth each time as if I was discovering the truth over.
"Tell them."
"...What?" It wasn't that I hadn't heard her, exactly, so much as my mind hadn't been ready to process her speaking.
"If you tell them what you know, they will be kind to me. They will listen to you. So tell them." She said it in a way that was oddly matter of fact, and managed to sound vaguely threatening.
Of course I was going to tell them. Of course. Not that I shared her faith that it would net her better treatment-- how could she have that faith, after however long living like this? How could she?-- but I couldn't let them go on thinking that she wasn't even alive.
Later, after I'd thought about it for a little while, I realised that I mostly just wanted to burden someone else with my guilt.
I walked out of there with sweaty palms and my heart raging in my chest. I didn't tell them. I don't know what to do.
June 11, 3405 -- Chess Fainrer's Diaries
Well, today at work they gave me a new project. I'm... really not sure what to think.
They call her "Mir". It's really hard not to want to name her, or refer to her as "her", even though a project number would have done just as well. She's not really alive; she's the culmination of their experiments to create a Reyvateil without emotions, something that can be used to harness the raw magical power of the Tower without having to exploit feeling beings. It sounds a little disturbing when you put it like that, but if she can't feel anything it's not like there's any harm being done.
Still, it's difficult not to treat her like she's a person. They created a really convincing illusion, let me tell you that. I'm not sure why they saw the need to make her simulate emotions; as humans we naturally react to what looks like human suffering, even if imitated. It just makes the whole thing feel weirder than it is. Honestly, the only thing I can think of is that someone, somewhere in here, enjoys the illusion, and that's a prospect I'd rather keep my mind off. If that's the level of professionalism you exhibit, you've no business being involved in something that has this much potential to redefine how we think about people, IMHO.
She kind of looks human, but also kind of doesn't. I suppose they did at least something to take the edge off the weird. She's chalk-white, like they didn't bother putting any pigment in her skin, and her eyes are the same, a kind of cherry red that looks really alien. I suppose the black hair is so you don't just mistake her for an albino human.
I think they're having her keep some kind of log or something, because she kept saying she "wanted" to go back to writing. Eventually I just left her to it, but I couldn't help watching her through the glass walls, scribbling in a notebook. I guess they don't let her have a computer; she's a Reyvateil after all, she'd probably hack it in some way that'd cause serious problems for us. It was just one of those sights that's so creepy you can't tear yourself away from it: something utterly emotionless, behaving so perfectly human.
I'm just glad they pay me through the nose for this.
They call her "Mir". It's really hard not to want to name her, or refer to her as "her", even though a project number would have done just as well. She's not really alive; she's the culmination of their experiments to create a Reyvateil without emotions, something that can be used to harness the raw magical power of the Tower without having to exploit feeling beings. It sounds a little disturbing when you put it like that, but if she can't feel anything it's not like there's any harm being done.
Still, it's difficult not to treat her like she's a person. They created a really convincing illusion, let me tell you that. I'm not sure why they saw the need to make her simulate emotions; as humans we naturally react to what looks like human suffering, even if imitated. It just makes the whole thing feel weirder than it is. Honestly, the only thing I can think of is that someone, somewhere in here, enjoys the illusion, and that's a prospect I'd rather keep my mind off. If that's the level of professionalism you exhibit, you've no business being involved in something that has this much potential to redefine how we think about people, IMHO.
She kind of looks human, but also kind of doesn't. I suppose they did at least something to take the edge off the weird. She's chalk-white, like they didn't bother putting any pigment in her skin, and her eyes are the same, a kind of cherry red that looks really alien. I suppose the black hair is so you don't just mistake her for an albino human.
I think they're having her keep some kind of log or something, because she kept saying she "wanted" to go back to writing. Eventually I just left her to it, but I couldn't help watching her through the glass walls, scribbling in a notebook. I guess they don't let her have a computer; she's a Reyvateil after all, she'd probably hack it in some way that'd cause serious problems for us. It was just one of those sights that's so creepy you can't tear yourself away from it: something utterly emotionless, behaving so perfectly human.
I'm just glad they pay me through the nose for this.
September 2, 3398 8:25 PM EST -- Cerchio Corp. Logs
Log files pertaining to this date: 1
e.s.lamarre@cerchio project/mir/log/02093398
Subject has discovered existence of external networking through casual communication conducted near the subject; has revealed plans to access information thereon. Agreement reached that allowing subject uncontrolled information flow would be a CODE BLACK security risk, repeat HIGHEST ORDER security risk.
Suggested course of action to remove ALL networked devices from within access range of subject until further notice. This includes but is not limited to subject's quarters and adjacent surveillance quarters. Networked devices that cannot be removed must be made restricted-access by means of PHYSICAL security devices capable of withstanding localised overpressure of at least 5psi and localised temperature change of +/-500˚F/s. Security devices must be removed ONLY when authorised personnel are directly attending to the machines.
Emails pertaining to this date: 1
---
From: e.s.lamarre@cerchio.co.at.el
To:[list]
A memo will be circulating shortly laying out official company policy on what may be discussed within interpretable range of a non-human intelligence project owned by CERCHIO CORPORATION. The list of agreed topics WILL be exhaustive. Attend to this memo as soon as you receive it. Further directions to follow.
---
e.s.lamarre@cerchio project/mir/log/02093398
Subject has discovered existence of external networking through casual communication conducted near the subject; has revealed plans to access information thereon. Agreement reached that allowing subject uncontrolled information flow would be a CODE BLACK security risk, repeat HIGHEST ORDER security risk.
Suggested course of action to remove ALL networked devices from within access range of subject until further notice. This includes but is not limited to subject's quarters and adjacent surveillance quarters. Networked devices that cannot be removed must be made restricted-access by means of PHYSICAL security devices capable of withstanding localised overpressure of at least 5psi and localised temperature change of +/-500˚F/s. Security devices must be removed ONLY when authorised personnel are directly attending to the machines.
Emails pertaining to this date: 1
---
From: e.s.lamarre@cerchio.co.at.el
To:[list]
A memo will be circulating shortly laying out official company policy on what may be discussed within interpretable range of a non-human intelligence project owned by CERCHIO CORPORATION. The list of agreed topics WILL be exhaustive. Attend to this memo as soon as you receive it. Further directions to follow.
---
September 2, 3398 8:25 PM EST -- mir@cerchio
Hi, diary. Today is an exciting day! Let me tell you why. I will say it one step at a time so it's easy to understand.
There is a network of computers in here that allows people to send information from one computer to another. It's how I can talk to you, of course, my diary. You are stored on a server somewhere here that my computer can access. No matter which computer I am on, here or in the white room, I can write in you because you're not in my computer, you're somewhere else.
I found out today that that's called an "intranet" which is a word from a really old language that means "within-a-place network". So it is made of all the computers in this company.
But there is ALSO another type of network. It is made of all the computers in the WORLD. Yes, really! If you can get on that network you can talk to anyone.
This computer isn't connected to the world network. But it is connected to computers that are connected to it, so I will just find a way to make it work. I am going to get on that network and use it to talk to people so I won't be alone. Most importantly, though, I will talk to Reyvateils if there are any that use computers.
This is REALLY the most exciting day ever.
There is a network of computers in here that allows people to send information from one computer to another. It's how I can talk to you, of course, my diary. You are stored on a server somewhere here that my computer can access. No matter which computer I am on, here or in the white room, I can write in you because you're not in my computer, you're somewhere else.
I found out today that that's called an "intranet" which is a word from a really old language that means "within-a-place network". So it is made of all the computers in this company.
But there is ALSO another type of network. It is made of all the computers in the WORLD. Yes, really! If you can get on that network you can talk to anyone.
This computer isn't connected to the world network. But it is connected to computers that are connected to it, so I will just find a way to make it work. I am going to get on that network and use it to talk to people so I won't be alone. Most importantly, though, I will talk to Reyvateils if there are any that use computers.
This is REALLY the most exciting day ever.
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