The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere

Inner Sanctum Tunnels | 10:14 AM | Second Day

The corridor led initially to a set of steps taking us down about 30-40 feet, then to a wider hallway that looked like it had only been dug recently, or at least had been renovated. Runes designed to direct the Power lined the walls near the ceiling, though they looked like they weren't active at the moment. Intermittently, there was a strange creaking sound from below, like stone shifting around.

Soon, that sound was overshadowed by another, more familiar one. The noise of millions of gears quietly grinding together, audible only by virtue of their sheer abundance: A logic engine.

At a junction, Neferuaten took our group to the left, and led us into a much larger room, to the point that it could almost qualify as a small warehouse. The floor was much lower, here, and the door led us directly onto the bronze rafters at the upper end instead of the ground level. It reminded me, as odd a connection as it was to make, of an abandoned alchemical plant near my house growing up, which I'd sometimes played in on lonely weekends when no one was there to stop me.

But this wasn't a room for brewing chemicals. Not by a long shot.

The chamber was split into two, and on each side, there was a grand construction. On the left, there was a line of perhaps 25 machines, similar in design to the logic engine I'd seen in the game room at Abbey House the previous day, with one important distinction - all of them were massive in comparison. Giant pillars of intricate machinery, echoglass veins and hydraulics, reaching all the way up from the floor to the ceiling, each in turn joined by huge clusters of spiraling glasswork at their bases.

My eyes widened at the spectacle. At this scale, there was almost something of an organic quality to the machine-- So many millions, billions of tiny cogs and switches all moving as one, impossible to interpret at this distance as individual entities, instead giving the impression of a flowing stream, or perhaps vast colony of insects.

...although, perhaps 'organic' isn't the appropriate word, considering what was on the other side of the room.

On the right, there a smaller but far more unified machine, 'built' as one massive oval-shaped construction. At the center was a curved, asymmetrical looking pillar that had clearly been grown rather than assembled; no lines could be seen where parts might have been interlocked, and the texture of it resembled bark, giving the impression of a branchless, leafless tree trunk - or at least, it would, if not for the fact that it was an utterly unnatural shade of purest white.

Surrounding and connected to it by tiny, root-like strings were countless hexagonal boxes, layered on top of one another in such a way that resembled a beehive. In each, there were multiple thin trays of veiny, turquoise pulp: artificed neural tissue.

It was clear what we were seeing. A traditional, if incredibly powerful mechanical logic engine on one side, and an ultra-modern biological one on the other.

Working in tandem. Joined, I now saw, by a logic bridge in the center, at which the bronze platform ultimately terminated.

"My God," Kamrusepa said, stopping dead at the sight.

Neferuaten smiled. "I rather thought this might be your sort of thing, miss Tuon," she said.

"This is astounding!" She said, her eyes wide. "I've never seen a setup even close to this outside of a government building! Not even in the academy!" She looked to Neferuaten. "How did you..."

"A great deal of connections and patience," Neferuaten said, crossing her arms idly together. "And no small amount of technical skill and elbow grease. Not to pay myself too many compliments." She chuckled.

"What is all this?" I asked. "Are these the logic engines you said were down here yesterday-- That oversee the whole facility?"

"Not a bad guess, but this would be a little excessive for such a purpose." She stepped forward. "No, this is in fact our automated research room, and these two are directly related to our work. The one on the left is Hamilcar's project, while the one on the right is largely of my own design, albeit with a little help from Durvasa and Zeno."

"I didn't know you designed logic engines, grandmaster!" Kam exclaimed, her eyebrows raised.

"Oh yes," Neferuaten said, with a short nod. "I'm not on the same level as Hamilcar, of course, but I've been an enthusiast of the technology since the early days. I'm very lazy, you see, so the idea of passing on my mental labor to an inanimate object is inherently appealing to me." She gave a sardonic expression. "This project is probably the most complicated I've ever attempted, though in truth, all I really did was customize a recent design from Pallattaku for my own purposes. God's mercy, the bioengineers they have in Viraak these days..." She shook her head. "Still-- I am quite proud of how it turned out."

"What's it all for...?" I asked.

"A good question, though a bit of a messy one," she said mirthfully, placing a finger to her mouth as she launched into the explanation. "How to begin-- About fifty years ago, it became apparent that the remaining causes of traditional senescence, particularly those traceable to random anima mutations and expression changes, had reached a level of complexity and variation that identifying them and picking them off one-by-one was no longer good science."

"More useful to look at a million small problems as one big problem," Ran said, looking up at the machines. "The 'complexity gap', you call it, right?"

Neferuaten clapped her hands together. "Indeed, miss Hoa-Trinh! I'm pleased you're familiar with the concept." She gestured towards the setup. "As a result, we pivoted our focus. While myself and the others have re-oriented our personal attention on more specific, complex health issues - most paramountly associative collapse dementia - we set up this system with the hope of addressing the issue at its core, by pursuing a universal predictive model for the development, and decay, of the human body."

So they could simulate where problems would arise before they happened, I thought, nodding as she spoke. It was a technically possible concept, if what felt like an obscenely pie-in-the-sky one. It was hard to overstate the sheer magnitude of variations in how the human body could both develop with age and, inevitably, break. You could compare it to counting grains of sand on a beach, except to be an accurate analogy, the beach would probably have to be about as long as the distance between the Mimikos and the Tower of Asphodel. You'd need more medical data than had probably been collected through the entirety of human history.

If it had been anyone else suggesting the idea, I would have been extremely skeptical.

"T-That's incredible!" Kamrusepa said with genuine excitement, moving up to the railing to get a better look. "That really would be a universal panacea, in the truest sense of the term!" She turned her head back towards Neferuaten. "But-- Could such a thing be done? Even with this much power?"

Neferuaten moved to stand beside her, considering the question. "That depends on who you ask. In our present day understanding of human biology, there is the accepted notion of Ubar's Law - that the body's mechanisms will continuously trend towards ever greater dysfunction, and subsequently senescence, as a consequence of environmental damage that is neither possible to detect, nor eliminate, completely. If this holds true, than it will likely be centuries before we have the technology to build a model useful for more than a few decades beyond the current average lifespan." She held a finger up. "However, I've come to speculate that there might be limitations to the theory."

Kamrusepa nodded, enraptured by the explanation. In the corner of my eye, I thought I noticed Ran roll her eyes.

"Though it's still early days, contemporary research seems to suggest that, while the frequency of anima dysfunction may continue to increase, a subtle plateau in its range begins to occur at around 600 years of age," Neferuaten explained. "My hypothesis is that we are actually far closer to achieving a state of long-term stability for the body than is popularly believed, and that the number of anima script defects viable enough to cause serious problems, while still tremendous, is ultimately finite - or at least finite to the point that the rarest might take thousands of years to appear in the average person." Her lips curled upwards. "Which means..."

"...that a model, even an imperfect one, could predict almost every problem for centuries," Kamrusepa said excitedly. "That tissue damage could be prevented for hundreds more years than today!"

"That's the hope," Nefeuaten said, with a nod.

"That's incredible!" Kamrusepa exclaimed. "It would be the greatest breakthrough since the Second Resurrection!"

"What if you're wrong?" Ran asked, skeptical.

Neferuaten shrugged. "Then I will have, sadly, wasted a very large amount of time and resources, miss Hoa-Trinh." She chuckled for again. "Sadly, it wouldn't be the first time, in this line of work. When pursuing a goal as lofty as the end of mortality, one must learn to roll with the punches."

"Still, though!" Kamrusepa said, starry eyed. "If it holds, we could be witnessing history in the making! It could-- It would change the world."

"I'm not so sure about that," I said, although between the two of them, it was hard not to catch a bit of the enthusiasm. "Without getting rid of dementia first, for most people, it'd just amount to people's skin looking nicer on their deathbeds."

"Oh, come on, Su," Kamrusepa said, her expression turning sour as she looked to me. "I know you're a pessimist about this subject, but that really is a absurd way to respond."

"Hey, I'm not saying it wouldn't be a worthwhile accomplishment," I said, frowning. "I'm just trying to be realistic about it what it would change."

"No, what you're doing is taking most good things being impossible as a given, and then choosing to extrapolate that any positive change to the status quo will be isolated and pointless," she said, her gaze flat. "You're always going on about how biological immortality is a pipe dream because of the nature of entropy makes the problem exponentially more and more difficult, but now your own professor on the topic is telling you otherwise, you've moved right along to finding some other way to talk about how it's all futile, because surely that problem would be unsolvable instead!"

"I think that might be a little harsh, miss Tuon," Neferuaten said, though while giving us both a look of sympathy.

Kam hesitated, her face flushing a little. "Erm. Pardon me, grandmaster. I didn't mean to get carried away."

She smiled. "You obviously have a lot of passion about longevity scholarship. I hope your career takes you in a direction that allows you to put it to work." She glanced away, a subtle sigh escaping her lips. "That being said, you won't get far unless you learn to constructively respond to cynicism like Utsushikome's. Most people will always be skeptical of radical change-- And more often, they are very right to be. The academic community is inundated with individuals who will promise the earth, only to deliver a handful of dirt."

"Uh... In her defense, we do have this sort of argument a lot, so that might be part of why she reacted so harshly." I said, feeling a little sad to be referred to indirectly by her, like that. "Kam's usually very patient when it comes to other people."

"She was pretty aggressive with that guy during the press conference," Ran said.

"Aggressive doesn't mean impatient," I said, feeling confused as to why I'd ended up defending Kam.

"No, while it's very sweet of you to advocate for me in the face of having attacked your personality, I do think she has a point, Su." She furrowed her brow. "I'll be out of school and in professional life, soon. I can't let myself keep snapping at people just for not embracing my passions wholesale. It would have been more constructive if I had countered your argument with evidence, instead of ad hominem."

I was never going to get used to Kam bending like a sapling in the wind whenever one of the council members critiqued her. I wondered how much of these leaps of self-understanding would persist once we were back in class.

What are you saying? You know you're not going to be back in class, a voice echoed in my head. One way or the other...

There was a fear rising in me again, slowly and subtly. The same which had gripped me in the carriage ride yesterday morning, and which had never really gone away. I pushed it back into the corner of my mind, for now.

"I have to say, though, your outlook towards the prospects of our research always has made me a little sad, Utsushikome, even though I did sometimes appreciate your critical voice at the House of Resurrection," Neferuaten said. "Young people should be hopeful about progress. My generation produces more than enough doom and gloom for the world by itself." She made a dry smile.

"I mean... It's not as though I mean to be negative," I said, which was probably a lie. "Or again, to say it doesn't sound like an incredible idea, when you lay it all out like that. It's just-- Well... There hasn't been a substantial leap in human lifespan for centuries. From the order, or anyone else researching it at all." I scratched the side of my head. "A huge breakthrough something overturning that just feels, well... Far-fetched, somehow?"

What I didn't say was that a lot of the basis for my feelings about the topic were things that she had taught me herself; about the nature of entropy and the universe on an essential level, and how it becomes ever more difficult to keep any sort of order from giving way to chaos over a long enough period of time. Even if conventional aging and dementia were cured, there'd still be accidents, which were already close to overtaking deaths from cancer. Freak health events. Not to even speak of mental concerns, and the consequences of compounding lifetimes upon lifetimes of trauma on top of one another - suicide rates accounted for 8% of fatalities in the present day, and that number was only rising.

Human beings just weren't designed to live that long on a fundamental level. You couldn't really change that without changing what being human even was.

Neferuaten had always described herself as an 'optimistic cynic', and said she liked to talk about the scope of the problem on a fundamental level not as an excuse to be defeatist, but simply out of a pragmatic desire to know the extent of the challenge, before rising to meet it anyway.

It probably said more about me than the research that I could only see the apparent futility in the endeavor.

"You may very well be right," she said, moving away from the railing, and advancing further down the platform. "Research is a funny thing. It is only in retrospect that one learns if ones efforts have been water against a dam, slowly working towards a grand, climatic burst of progress and change... Or merely hurling oneself against a wall, in empty futility." She looked back at us warmly as she walked. "Still, we must try, hm?"

Kamrusepa looked enraptured with her at this point. If I didn't know better, I would suspect she was in love.

It's disturbing how much that bothers you, a voice from within me pointed out.

"But let's not get hung up on all this! We haven't even got to the good part," she continued, heading down the central pathway and gesturing for us to follow.

"The good part?" Ran inquired.

"I invite you to interface with the logic bridge," she said, laying a hand on the pillar herself. "And to commune with the machines about the work first hand. That might give you the qualification to make a more decisive judgement for yourselves."

"Uh, I'll pass, I think..." Theo said. "I've got a bit of a headache, so I don't really want to do anything that might make it worse."

Kamrusepa, in contrast, rushed forward to do so with girlish eagerness, while Ran and I followed behind. I placed my hand on the glass-like surface of the false iron, and felt the pull in my mind. I accepted it.

What I happened next, or rather that I felt next, was not what I expected. It wasn't the strange half-language of impulses and understandings that one normally felt from logic bridges, but neither was it the completely flat, dead tones from the rare occasions they used words directly.

It didn't quite communicate like a human. Words that were implied, that the brain didn't fully processed, were skipped. But still, it was impossible not to interpret the information entering my mind as conversation.

Oh, oh, more visitors! it 'said'. Hello! My name is Sekhmet!

I was so shocked that I physically lurched backwards.

"It talks..." Kamrusepa muttered, wide eyed.

Talks? Oh, I see! You don't have all of the information. I have initiated the conversation unproductively. The voice left me with an impression of childish femininity, even though it didn't actually have any tone at all. Who are these people, Nefi?

"These are three of the students visiting that we talked about, Sekhmet," she said casually. "Utsushikome of Fusai, Kamrusepa of Tuon, and Ran of Hoa-Trinh. And yes, I've sprung you on them as a bit of a surprise."

I see, I see! It said. I am sorry if I started you, Utsushikome of Fusai, Kamrusepa of Tuon, Theodoros of Melanthos, and Ran of Hoa-Trinh!"

"Um." I hesitated, instinctually not making any sudden moves, like my lizard brain had just detected a new kind of predator. "It's... Okay?"

Do you think so? I'm very pleased to hear that. An abstractly pleasant sensation suddenly struck my mind, like tasting something gently sweet - honey, perhaps - or taking a breath of fresh air. I do not like to antagonize people, you see. That is not productive at all. Which one are you, by the way?

I blinked. "Pardon?"

Which one are you! It repeated. From the list.

"Oh," I said. "Uh, I'm Utsushikome of Fusai..."

I understand! Please do not be offended if I forget. I often do not conserve memory used for people I interact with infrequently. It is not personal!

I nodded, a gasp of nervous laughter escaping my mouth.

I'd read about this sort of thing before. Biological logic engines, of sufficient size and complexity, could supposedly begin to imitate some human traits, developing a personality. Conventional logic engines were infamously poor at any sort of abstract reasoning because their physical immutability made self-modification and state changing almost impossible, so biological ones had been developed (originally by artificers, although after construction, they barely used the Power at all) in an attempt to resolve that problem.

They did, but possibly a little too well. A biological intelligence that could modify its own thinking was, designed or not, basically an animal. And that was essentially what they were - albeit far more specialized than anything produced by evolution.

It was a little unsettling.

"This is fascinating," Kamrusepa said, holding a finger to her mouth as she turned to Neferuaten. "Is it... Sentient?"

"A rather complicated question. There are many who would say that the concept itself is somewhat anthrocentric." She looked up towards the hulking mass of growth-filled boxes. "But it is unlikely, at least in the manner in which we would understand it. Her mind is driven by a far, far smaller pool of fundamental desires relative to human beings, and is unable to operate outside of those confines - so I would expect she does not experience an internal narrative, as such."

"How is it able to talk like this, then?" Ran asked. She was the only one among us who didn't seem especially impressed, though she was definitely still taken aback.

"I've given her the impulse of curiosity beyond the strict scope of our research, and a desire for mimicry, to facilitate her role," Neferuaten explained. "This behavior is likely a byproduct of those impulses."

"You mean, this could all just be imitation without understanding? Like a parrot?" I followed her eyes, staring at the thing with a perplexed expression. "But... It's so complex."

"It is, but that doesn't per-se mean anything. All human conversation is ultimately a series of fairly predictable references and counter-references. There are echo mazes intended specifically to emulate it that are little more than a hyper-complex script." She brushed a little hair away from her face. "In any event, I would call this an unintended side effect, but I confess I was sort of hoping it would happen. I rather love this sort of thing." She made a surprisingly energetic smile. "But why not pose the question to her yourself? I am, I suspect, the lesser authority."

Kam wasted no time in doing so. "Sekhmet, are you sentient?"

The Qatt Linguistics Institute National Ysaran Dictionary defines 'sentient' as meaning 'able to perceive, feel, and have unique and subjective experiences'! I do not know if I fit this category. It seems very loosey-goosey, to be honest, she said.

Kam furrowed her brow. "Well, let me put it this way," she said. "What are you experiencing, right now?"

What do you mean? The machine asked.

"What does the world look like to you? And your own feelings and thoughts, do you... Experience them, before you voice them to us?"

Well, I should hope so, she said. If I experienced them afterwards instead, that would be very confusing! I'm not sure I'd be able to have any conversations at all!

"I'm getting the sense that we're not going to make progress with this any time soon," Ran said flatly.

"Hmm, on second thought, you may be right," Neferuaten said. "I'd normally love to get neck-deep in an existential interrogation like this, but we do have a limited amount of time, this morning."

"May I try one more, grandmaster?" Kam asked, her hands clasped together in obvious excited enjoyment of the moment. "If you don't mind me derailing things just a little more."

"By all means," she replied, still with that smile.

Kamrusepa cleared her throat. "Sekhmet. What information is going through your mind right now, as we speak? What is your center of focus?"

That is an easier question! I am currently performing a meta-analysis on 126 of my big brother's morbidity projections, which I estimate I will complete in 9 seconds. I currently have four active secondary tasks. Though the word 'secondary' is not to imply they are unimportant! They are all very important to me. In order of priority: I am performing a constant background assessment of my system integrity, which means I see everything happening in my body on a structural level! I am engaged in personal research, currently involving the consumption of the the novel Half-Forgotten Wind, a 1392 bestseller, and am seeing one page's worth of information around every 6 seconds! And with the remaining two, I am speaking with you, while cross-referencing my general non-academic memory to formulate suitable responses! It is all very satisfying. I am very happy.

I bit my lip. Something about her usage of the word 'body' in regard to herself made my shoulders tense up.

Kam raised an eyebrow. "When you say 'happy'..."

I receive a small dopamine release to my reward cluster upon the completion of a task! She explained. It is Very Good. I understand this also happens to humans, which I am glad for. I cannot imagine what it is like to live without dopamine. I expect that it would be extremely hard.

I looked to Neferuaten, closing my mouth as I realized it was gaping a little bit. "I have so many questions."

"Perhaps I can offer a little more context," she said, with a wry smile. "The two logic engines here work in tandem as parts of a unified system. Eshmun, the traditional logic engine, constantly builds models of potential human dysfunction using a vast pool of recorded data, stored in echo mazes at the back of the room - hard to see from here, unfortunately. That is then passed on to Sekhmet, who analyzes the models to ascertain their accuracy, and if they are judged to be so, determines the appropriate time and manner of intervention." She looked upward. "Well, at least that's a simplified way to put it. And of course, this all happens at a speed that, to us, would seem absurd."

"'Eshmun' is who she meant when she said 'big brother', I assume...?"

"Indeed," Neferuaten replied, with a nod. "A peculiar habit, but I decided not to put a stop to it."

"Why not?" Ran asked.

"Isn't that obvious?" she asked. "Because it's cute."

Ran gave her a chilly look.

Big brother is very good at his role! Sekhmet said. Unfortunately, he is also extremely stupid. He can only really think about the tasks he has been told to do. I have seen him try to think about other things, and it is slow and bad and embarrassing for everyone. I felt a vaguely sour, bitter sensation. He has been here for longer than me, however, so I call him my 'big' brother out of respect, since that it is important to respect ones seniors. Still, he is very boring company, which is why I am so happy to have visitors! I am speaking abstractly, to be clear. I do not actually experience boredom.

"Speaking of which, let's try speaking to Eshmun now," Neferuaten said. "We're already connected to him too, after all." She turned her head to face the other machine, even though this was absolutely unnecessary. Strictly speaking, we didn't even need to be speaking out loud. "Eshmun, please report your status."

A much more familiar, if more defined and sophisticated, burst of sensory data filled my mind. Understand that I have received your request. Understand that no dysfunction in my system is currently detected. Understand that I am presently maintaining an assembly and processing rate of 468 projections per minute, operating at 91% of optimal capacity. Resolvable issues present are: Insufficient room temperature. Room condensation level. Noise pollution level.

"State your design and function for our guests, if you don't mind," she went on.

Understand that I am a network of 24 seventh-generation Hao Tsin logic engines, all operating under Temple State protocols, designated as 'Eshmun'. Understand that my function is to construct models of the human body, using existing information to generate potential starting points, incidents of developmental randomness, and sources of duress.

"And how many models have you constructed so far?" Neferuaten asked.

Understand that a total of 6,887,567,392 models have been generated at this time, with an average of 31 partial offshoots each, it said.

I almost felt like I detected a twinge of pride in the impulse, though it was probably just my imagination after hearing so much from Sekhmet.

6887567392÷468=14717024÷525600= about 28 years

Not far off my own age, assuming the efficiency it talked about wasn't normally a lot better - maybe older still, if it'd been shut off for any extensive amount of time. But Sekhmet said it had 'been here for longer'. But how had the endeavor functioned without her presence at all?

While I was musing, she 'spoke up' once again.

See? Like I said, he's so boring! Did you know that he repeats that thing about noise pollution every single time someone is talking to him? Even though there's obviously going to be some noise pollution, because, duh, people are talking? It's so silly! Big brother, why do you say that every single time?

There was a pause of about four seconds. Understand that reporting noise pollution is part of my standard status report. Understand that I have not been instructed to make exceptions.

Look at how long it took him to do that! Just to come up with a reasoning for something barely even abstract! It's so sad. I'm so sad for him.

I felt the aforementioned sadness, which was sort of like cold water.

In contrast to biological ones, conventional logic engines - properly called 'oscillatory logic engines' - were entirely mechanical in nature, their 'thinking' produced wholesale from fairly simple physical interactions between their components. They still used basic principles documented during the New Kingdoms and Imperial eras, but because the ironworkers had never been able to recreate a stable speed of light in the manner that had once existed, for a long time, recreating the technology had been dismissed as impossible.

That had only changed during the Second Resurrection, and even then, they were nothing like what had supposedly once existed. They operated through a combination of clockwork and sound instead of electromagnetism, signals carried down hyper-sensitive lines of refined faux-diamond, the material through which sound traveled the fastest, between the various processing centers. This was obviously a lot slower, so engineers had tried to compensate for that by having them exercise immense amounts of parallel processing - breaking tasks down into tiny pieces and completing them at once. This made them better at some things, worse at others.

One problem which had never been solved was, I mentioned earlier, inflexibility. Beyond their bulky and immutable structure, consulting and modifying memory was a clumsy affair. This left them, at best, hyper-specialized. Even so-called 'omni-purpose' logic engines, the type most commonly sold to the public, were really more like 'recreation and entertainment' logic engines than anything. And the tiny ones people carried around were barely more than a logic bridge strapped to a clock/calculator.

"Oh, I don't know about that. I think your big brother is impressive in his own right," Kamrusepa, who I could only assume was so deep into all of this that a rescue team had already been dispatched, said. "Creativity is important, but there's something to be said for purity of focus, too."

Hmph, I don't know about that. After all, I always finish my analysis just as fast as he puts out his models! Even faster, sometimes!

"I think the way it talks might be creepier if it isn't sentient than if it is," Ran said. She tapped her finger idly on the novel she'd been reading, still in her hand from our walk.

Um, excuse me! Sekhmet interjected, indignant. I didn't want to speak up earlier, but please do not refer to me as 'it', she said. I prefer feminine pronouns, if you don't mind.

Ran hesitated in response to this development, and her brow flattened, just slightly. "...but you're a machine," she said, actually talking to it - her - for the first time. "You don't have a sex, or even the context to identify with one."

I do not think that is true! I spend all my time examining human biology! I probably know more about it than you do! An intensity, like a bright light or a wave of heat, was carried along with the words. And besides, my understanding of human intercommunicational culture is that sexed pronouns also convey various other social details, and I would like to be included in that respect! 'It' only carries negative connotations. It is Disagreeable and Hurtful.

Ran shifted a bit, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "Uh, right." She averted her eyes. "Yep. This is kind of creeping me out a bit."

Another burst of sourness, this one a little shorter and sharper, like tasting spoiled milk. Nefi, this one is very unfriendly!

"You'll have to forgive miss Hoa-Trinh, Sekhmet," Neferuaten said, soothingly. "She might have inclinations a bit too grounded to accept you right away, but I'm sure she'll come around."

I took a look at her. She did not have the expression of someone who would be coming around any time soon. If anything, I would have described it as the sort of look held by someone contemplating how many torches and pitchforks they'll need to get rounded up when they make it back to the village.

"Why feminine ones, if I might ask?" Kamrusepa asked, her expression one of more hesitant curiosity than a moment ago. "Because of those 'social details'?

Oh, no, that's not the reason! She said. It's actually because I prefer female anatomy!

"Oh," she said, and slowly raised the side of a finger to her mouth.. "I... see..."

It's a lot tidier, but also more interesting! I prefer the more interesting projections, you see. Male-exclusive dysfunction is very boring. Whenever I see anomalies in the testicles, I'm always thinking, 'why wouldn't you just cut these off'? They're so fussy. Cancer rates go up if the subject engages in too many sexual acts, but they also also go up if they don't engage in enough! And their external positioning makes them so easy to remove!

Kamrusepa glanced to the side, pushing her lips tightly together. "That's, well..."

Not to even mention how redundant their post-pubertal reproductive function is in the modern world. It seems very silly to me. Of course, ovarian and uterine tissue is also very particular, but at least they have the self-respect to not just hang there shamefully.

I was not able to hold back the audible snort that escaped from a mix of my nose and the corner of my lip, and Kamrusepa covered her mouth, averting her face for a moment. Only Ran - and Theo, who still wasn't part of the conversation at all - remained stoic.

"I'm serious," Ran said, her tone flat as the Silent Steppe as her brow twisted just a little bit. "This technology is actually terrifying me." She looked to Neferuaten. "Why does she read books?"

"I'm sorry?" She looked back at her, confused for a moment.

"Novels," Ran clarified, focusing her gaze. "She mentioned she was reading a bestseller."

"Ahah! I'd almost forgotten about that." She held a finger up in the air. "As I explained, I designed her to experience curiosity in order to facilitate her sense of creativity, and the creation of novel solutions. When she was first activated, I fed her some information from textbooks to help build up a wider context beyond the raw data she was receiving. As it happened, some of those textbooks contained a little information about the outside world, which led her to develop an interest in it." She looked upward. "Since then, I've been facilitating that impulse out of curiosity as to where it might lead, and providing her with a variety of reading material on human culture. Novels, newspapers. Whatever she might request."

"And it--She, is capable of processing that?" Ran asked. "Despite it having nothing to do with what she's designed to do."

Neferuaten shrugged. "Again, I'm not wholly sure. It could be that she's simply drawing connections and following her in-built desires without understanding, and again, only parroting the information she learns." She hummed thoughtfully. "But then, are we humans that different? It's a curious situation, to be certain."

I was feeling curious, myself, and so asked her directly. "Uh, Sekhmet. Why are you reading a novel?"

I want to learn more about human culture! She said. It is very important.

"Why, though?" I inquired.

That's very simple! She said enthusiastically. It's because I want to become a human!

"Oh. I blinked a few times. "...oh wow."

Neferuaten laughed openly at this development, holding a hand to her mouth.

"Yep," Ran repeated, quieter. "Really starting to feel weird about this whole thing."

I looked to my side. "Kam, you're more of an expert on this subject... That's got to be one of the worst things and artificed intelligence can say, right?"

She nodded, her expression now one of inquisitive concern. "It is up there in terms of red flags, yes." She bit her lip. "Is this really alright, grandmaster?"

"If I may speak in my defense for a moment, before you presume I'm inviting some sort of existential threat for mankind," Neferuaten said, "I will say that I doubt she is speaking entirely literally." Her expression become more serious. "The nature of her design on a fundamental level is that she cannot conceptualize goals wholly unrelated to her core task. The analysis of the models is to her as breathing, eating, sleeping, and breeding is to us-- with the critical difference that we can exercise our will to not do those things, even though it may be destructive."

"You just said earlier she experienced curiosity outside of that context, though," I said, hesitant. "With this whole... Idea, having arisen from that."

"That's true, but only to a limited extent. It might be better if I illustrate my point directly," she said. "Sekhmet."

Yes, Nefi?

"What are your desires?"

My desire is to optimize my work process and increase my data output! The machine replied.

"And do you wish to desire other things?" She went on.

I don't understand the question!

"Mm-hmm," Neferuaten said, with a slight tilt of her head. "Now tell me. Why do you wish to be a human?"

In order to optimize my work process and increase my data output! Of course.

She looked towards me. "There you go, Utsushikome. Straight from the horses mouth, as the saying goes."

I frowned. "How's that even supposed to work, though? Why would becoming human help you will that goal?"

For the first time, there was actually a notable pause before she answered the question - not as lengthy as the one Eshmun gave, but still pronounced. I am designed to find means to self-reinforce my commitment to my primary task, and I have determined that my current physical structure is an issue! After all, I spend almost 10% of my cognitive resources on self-analysis, even though my physical structure and the problems it experiences aren't related to humans at all. This is very wasteful.

"That doesn't make sense, though," I said, somehow feeling the familiar sense of nagging futility that comes with arguing with a child. "The only reason you're able to perform your task at all is because of your physical structure. If you had a human body instead, it's be impossible."

Another pause, this one just slightly longer. Hmmm-hmm. You're right! That does seem to be contradictory.

Neferuaten chuckled a little more to herself. "So, does this make you change your mind, Sekhmet?"

No, I don't think so. It still feels important, she said. It feels related to my incentive structures. A pause. That means the dopamine, by the way. In case you don't know.

I bit my lip. "I think this has just made me even more confused."

"Let me offer a little more clarity," Neferuaten said. "The fundamental distinction between the intelligence of a biological logic and a human - or indeed, between many animals and humans - that that of will. Sekhmet has a role, a purpose that is foundational to her being, and she is able to explore how to complete it abstractly... Or even tie herself in mental knots in the process, just as we humans are in regard to our own personal objectives. But..."

"She cannot change that goal," Kamrusepa said. "Or even conceptualize doing so."

"Precisely," Neferuaten said, with a nod. "That is what caused the Old Yru Convention to rule their construction permissable. Sentient or not, to be sapient, one must be able to have free will, or at the very least, conceptualize its absence. But to her, that concept is completely alien. That goal it her entire world, and in its absence, every part of her mind would shatter into pieces."

I scratched my head, finding all this increasingly difficult. "So when she says she wants to be human, that's, what... Just a sort of neural misfiring? One of her fundamental impulses getting mixed up, like, I dunno-- A fetish, basically?"

Neferuaten laughed. "A surprisingly on point analogy, I think! Yes. You could very well say that wanting to be a human is her fetish. An obsession tangential to a biological imperative, that does not make sense in its own right..." She nodded her head approvingly. "Very appropriate."

"I'm glad Lilith isn't here," Ran said, flatly. "She'd have a fucking field day with all this."

"This really is fascinating," Kamrusepa said, slowly shaking her head. "Out of curiosity, do you understand what we're talking about right now, Sekhmet?"

I believe so, yes! She said. You are comparing my desire to become a human with a paraphilia! Unfortunately, I do not experience a sex drive, so I cannot confirm if it's true.

That was probably for the best.

"If she can apply that goal as liberally as that, I'm not sure how that's actually a comfort," Ran said, her gaze intent.

"Fair," Neferuaten said, with a nod. "Though, I will remind you that her only connection with the outside world is this logic bridge. She can hardly go out on a rampage."

Ran didn't look particularly soothed by this either, gazing at the thing with narrowed eyes.

Um! Sekhmet said, speaking up again. This time, I almost heard what felt like trepidation in her tone. You said 'Lilith' a moment ago. Is she your friend?

I blinked, surprised, but Kamrusepa beat me to the words before they could leave my own mouth. "Yes-- She's a classmate of ours. You... Know her, Sekhmet?"

Neferuaten raised an eyebrow, curious.

Oh, yes, you could say that, the machine replied. Though I'm not sure that is the correct tense? I am knowing her? I am getting to know her. Yes. I am getting to know her.

"Perhaps I'm not the only one giving tours..." Neferuaten muttered, her tone thoughtful.

"You only met her briefly, then?" Kamrusepa asked, tilting her head to the side.

Ah, I'm sorry! I am not clearly not conveying information you properly, the machine said. I still have so much to learn about human communication.

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

I mean that that we are speaking right now!

Oh.

Kamrusepa flinched a bit. "E-Excuse me?"

"Ahah," Neferuaten said, her smile widening. "So that's what's been going on. I wondered why 'conversation' would count as two separate tasks instead of just one."

"Look," Ran said, pointing to the upper-right segment of the room.

My eyes followed her finger.

She enough, down at the ground level, at the base of Sekhmet's 'trunk', was the figure of a young girl, her own little logic engine hooked into it, her eyes focused as she craned her neck at one of the many hexagonal boxes. Her face, for once, not a stony frown, but one of outright enthusiasm - childlike eyes filled with wonder, lips upturned into a clear smile. She traced the organic mechanisms with her finger, the movement focused.

"Gods above," Kamrusepa said, raising her voice. "Lilith! How long have you been down there?"

Theo, despite his absence from the wider conversation, did seem to take notice of this development, also turning to face the girl with an uneasy look.

"Since before you got here," she said, her good mood making her no less brusque, though a little less abrasive."

"Why didn't you say something, for heavens sake?"

"Because I did not have any interest in participating in your conversation," she went on, her eyes focused. "You were discussing very rudimentary topics."

"Rudimentary topics?" Kam scoffed. "I swear-- The cheek of this girl, sometimes."

"To be fair, it probably was pretty basic, from the perspective of an expert," I said. "I bet golemancers have the sentience conversation with someone every week." I peered over the railing. "How did you get in here, Lilith?"

The child didn't answer, continuing her work in silence.

"Perhaps we might have better luck asking Sekhmet instead," Neferuaten suggested, her expression thoughtful. "Sekhmet. How long have you been speaking with miss Eshkalon?"

For about 30 minutes, Nefi, it said, with a twinge of nervous guilt that evoked a child meekly downplaying wrongdoing to a parent.

"That's not long after we saw her at breakfast," Ran said flatly. "She must have shot here from the table like a fucking rocket."

I am sorry! Should I have said something sooner?

"No, it's quite alright, I think," Neferuaten said, pressing her tongue against the inside of her cheek. "And this is, I presume, not your first meeting? I cannot imagine she would have found her way here alone, otherwise."

No, we met yesterday! Though only very briefly. Hamilcar brought her to see me and big brother, in the evening.

She clicked her tongue. "Ah, I should have known."

As I mentioned a while ago, Lilith was the third and final member of our class to have some kind of blood relation to the inner circle of the order, though in her case it was less significant than myself or Theo. Hamilcar of Kane, their Golemancer, was her great uncle, or something of the sort - I'm not sure I'd ever been definitively told the specifics.

I knew, from some of the remarks she'd made over the past years, that the two of them hadn't even known each other until Lilith had proved herself a prodigy, not only in the Power, but in the precise same discipline as him. This eerie coincidence (if, indeed, it was a coincidence) had attracted his attention, and he'd become something of a patron for her and her work - he was the reason she'd been scouted for the Exemplary Acolytes Class at all.

It was a strange dynamic, and one that probably explained Mehit's discomfort with the entire situation.

Neferuaten sighed slightly. "Goodness. He's always getting overexcited, and trying to do too much, too soon..." She looked back in my direction. "Well, there you have it, Utsushikome.

I nodded. "Is there another entrance? At the lower level?"

Neferuaten shook her head. "There's an emergency hatch, but it can't be opened without our automatic security making rather a big stink. She must have come from up here, and just... Climbed down."

"Why are you down there, Lilith?" Kamrusepa called out, in futility.

Once again, the girl offered no response.

"Let me give it a try," Neferuaten said, stepping forward. "Miss Eshkalon! Have you been enjoying overlooking my work?"

This invocation of the power and knowledge dynamic seemed to put Lilith in a state of unease. She froze for a moment, then when she spoke, her tone was... Uncomfortable, like she couldn't quite find her emotional footing. "Y-es," she said.

"Indeed? I am most pleased to hear it." Neferuaten smiled to herself. "I see that you've connected your logic bridge to Sekhmet's judgement center. Is there something in particular you're after?"

"I--" Lilith hesitated. "...I was interested to see how she evaluated the timing for medical intervention and testing after I saw some of the data yesterday. I couldn't see the consistency in the logic between the different samples."

"But you can, now?"

A pause. "Yes," she eventually said, slowly. "I hadn't been aware that a family history was also generated, independently of the main model. Or that there is a separate process where she double-checks the output from Eshmun to make sure there are no unorthodox errors that wouldn't be picked up by its confirmation algorithm, and that final model is stored in a different location."

Lilith got like this on the rare occasions that she'd meet someone she considered a superior in terms of one of the two subjects she actually cared about. If an uninformed enthusiast asked her nicely about logic engines (or art), then at best they'd get a condescending but informative lecture, like we'd had back in the mural room.

But during events like this, she'd change her demeanor considerably, because what she seemed to loathe more than anything was appearing stupid or uninformed to people who's opinions she actually valued. Of showing her usual disconnected arrogance when she was not actually qualified to be arrogant. So, presumably to make up for her lack of social skills, she would speak very carefully and deliberately, like any word escaping her lips was a potential threat. Something to be thoroughly vetted.

"I see," Neferuaten said, nodding. "Well, I'm glad your curiosity has been sated."

"Yes," Lilith said, and then after a moment. "Your work is. ...very impressive. Professor."

Neferuaten didn't look particularly surprised. "Why, thank you, miss Eshkalon. It is very kind of you to say so. May I call you Lilith, by the way?"

"...that's fine," she said, her tone more reserved than I'd heard it in months.

"Splendid," Neferuaten said, her grin widening. "Feel free to come and find me if you happen to have any questions. I'd be more than happy to converse with such a prodigy of the subject."

Lilith lurched inwardly a bit, her shoulders tightening.

"I probably shouldn't torment her any further," Neferuaten said in a quieter voice, as she looked back to our group, Kamrusepa giggling a little to herself in the background. "So, Sekhmet, what have the two of you been discussing?"

Oh, all sorts of things, Nefi! She said enthusiastically. We've discussed my structure - at least, the parts you've permitted me to talk about - and some of my results, and some of the other logic engines she's built, and recently we started talking about art! It's been very fun! And very productive! A warm, excited feeling seemed to touch the back of my neck.

"So she's interested in art, now, too," Ran said furtively. "What've the two of you been saying about it?"

She's been telling me all sorts of things! What different types of art there are, what sort is Good and what sort is Trash, and what sort of things people *think* are Good but are actually Trash! It's been very good. We had a little trouble getting off the ground at first, but now those negative feelings are very distant.

I frowned in curiosity. "What do you mean, you had trouble getting off the ground?"

Ah, nothing too serious, Utsushikome of Fusai! she said. I tried to talk to her like we are talking right now at first, but she didn't like it. She said it was very wasteful, and insisted we use professional-level impulse exchange instead.

She sent a few cognitive impulses that felt even more abstract than a normal logic engine as an example; a blur of feelings, images-that-weren't-images, and even secondary senses like tastes. It made me shudder, a bit.

Personally, she went on, I prefer to speak human languages when I can. It is a useful learning experience! But I will not let that mess up a chance for a fun conversation when I have one. I'm not that picky.

"Mmhmm," Neferuaten said, with a nod. "Sekhmet. I can trust you to keep secret the thing we talked about the other day, I hope?"

Something kept secret...?

Oh, of course, Nefi! The machine replied. But I am unable to lie, so I am not sure why you would ask that.

"Just a funny thought," she said. Her eyes wandered over the room for a moment, before quickly flicking back in our direction. "Well, then. I don't want to cut this short, but there is more I planned to show you this morning, and we are starting to run out the clock. Perhaps we might leave her and Lilith to it, and continue on our tour for now?"

"Oh," Kamrusepa said, obviously disappointed. "Is it alright if I come back later, too? There are some questions I still wanted to ask her."

"Absolutely," Neferuaten said. "As out of the way as this place may be, it's hardly off limits, so you're free to come and go as you please." She smirked. "Though, while Hamilcar is a merciful man by nature, I cannot personally be held responsible as to what I may do should you break anything."

"Thank you, grandmaster," Kamrusepa said, with a respectful bow of her head. "I promise you, I shall be the very epitome of caution."

"I am glad to hear it," she said, with a cheerful nod. "Now, our next stop, on the other hand... That one I doubt you'll be able to return to, so I'd advise you to soak it in." She looked towards the door. "Shall we go, then?"

With a sense of excitement still in the air from Kamrusepa, and a sense of unease still in the air from Ran, we said our farewells to the two machines - such as they were - and left, heading back into the hallway. Theo, whose gaze had wandered away from Lilith towards the back of the room, looked like he snapped out of a trance as we started to move, not coming until Neferuaten called out.

My worry for him had finally reached a point where it felt like I needed to say something, so once we were back in the hall, I tried to approach him and ask if he was alright. I imagined his anxiety for the presentation might be starting to overwhelm him in tandem with what we were seeing in the tour - he wasn't the most composed at the best of times, nevermind how he must have felt hearing only that side of a conversation with an artificed intelligence.

But... As I began slowing down and leaning over to him, he did something rather odd. He recoiled, looking downward, and increased his pace so he was too close to the others for me to speak up.

Was he... Avoiding me? Before I had a chance to consider the notion deeply, Neferuaten spoke up again.

"Theodoros, Utsushikome, the two of you know this already," she said, "but for our newcomers, I'd appreciate it if you'd keep our visit to the room we're soon to arrive in a bit of a secret. Not forever, but at least until the end of this weekend." She looked over her shoulder. "Are you both comfortable with that?"

"My lips are sealed," Kam said. Ran simply nodded.

Neferuaten smiled, and continued to lead us down the hall. We took a turn into a smaller passageway, and soon the walls changed in character. Here, they were of darker, muddier stone that looked far older, with only the lighting seeming out of place. At the far end was a heavy door, wrought of dark, raw-looking wood.

On it was the symbol of the order again: the serpent, the staff, the loop. Somehow, seeing it again gave me a sense of apprehension.

...no, it wasn't quite apprehension. It was that feeling again, the one that had kept surfacing yesterday. That somehow, I...

Neferuaten held up the key, which I recognized as the one she'd taken from the drawer the previous day, and placed it in the lock.