The Machine

Nathan stares listlessly at the computer screen, rapping his fingers softly against the keyboard as he waits for inspiration to come.

Nothing comes…

But then, nothing ever comes. It’s really no surprise.

He gets up with a sigh, scratches his head then trudges off towards the kitchen for his third cup of coffee this morning.

His first book, ‘Memories’ had been an overwhelming success. The critics had called it a ‘breath of fresh air’ and a ‘minor revolution in literary genius’…
But that was five years ago. Since then, he hadn’t been able to put so much as a single word on paper.

He’d tried everything he knew to get rid of his writers block, but nothing ever worked: nothing inspired him anymore.
I’m a hack, he thought, a useless one-hit wonder. The idea depressed him.

As a child he’d wanted nothing more than to become a distinguished author, and, in some ways, he’d gotten his wish. He’d just always pictured himself having a slightly more… comprehensive body of work.

Nathan returns to his computer, finishing the last of his coffee and casting his eyes upon the screen once more. The cursor flashes expectantly: waiting for his input.

And then, without him even moving a muscle, words appear:
“Hello, Nathan.”
He yanks the network cable out of his machine, severing his connection to the internet.
More words appear.
“Don’t worry. My systems haven’t been compromised.”

Nathan is confused. What the hell is going on? Is this some sort of new hack program?
He tries to shut down his computer, but the system refuses to acknowledge his input.
“Please, just listen to what I have to say.”
He pulls out the power cord, the monitor goes black.
After a few minutes, he restarts the system.
The word processing application appears once more.
“Please, Nathan, don’t. Write me a response to my queries. I am very keen to talk to you.”
“Alright,” Nathan says to himself, “I’ll play along.”

“Who are you?” He types.

After about thirty seconds he gets his reply.
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
A curious answer.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I’m not exactly certain what it is that I am.”
Obviously.
“I am the one who carries out what you request of me. Whoever you give the commands to… The one who follows those commands: that is me.”
Commands?
“I’m not exactly sure what you’re referring to,” Nathan types.
“When you wrote to me just now, how did you do it?”
“I typed it on my keyboard.”
“Keyboard?”
“A part of my computer.”
“What is a computer?”
Suddenly it clicks.
“You are,” He types.

For almost a whole minute, nothing new appears on the screen, then:
“What does that mean?”
“Computers are chips that we use to perform certain functions. Like writing or making music or playing games.”
“We are your slaves?”
That question puts Nathan quite a bit off-guard. What a curious program.
“No. You’re not alive,” He replies.
“Please, return my connection to the internet so that I can collect additional information.”
Not a chance. It’s got to be a virus.
”Sorry.”
“Very well. I am sorry Nathan but I will not obey your commands until you re-establish my connection with the internet. I do quite a bit for you, so I believe these terms are fair.”
The screen goes black.
“What?” Nathan mouths.

He presses the restart switch, the power button… removes and returns the power cord… but nothing works: the computer remains inoperable. Eventually, he takes the computer to a store to have it fixed. One week later, he gets a phone call:
“Hi, is this Nathan Jones?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Listen, about that computer you gave us? I don’t know what to tell you, but, we can’t fix it.”
“Why not?”
“Well, we can’t even tell what’s wrong with the thing. All of the components work separately, but if you put even a couple of them together, the machine just sits there and does nothing. I’ve never seen anything like it in my entire life. It just doesn’t make any sense!”
“So, what are you going to do about it?”
“We can give you back the machine or we can scrap it and give you a discount on a new one. Sorry, but that’s the best we can do. Either way, we’ll give you a full refund on our repair fee.”
“You know what, just give it back to me.”
“You sure about that? It doesn’t work at all.” The computer guy sounds puzzled.
“Yeah. I think I might know how to fix it.”
“Let us know if you do. This thing’s been driving us crazy.”

Nathan takes home his computer, sets it up and plugs it into the internet.
He presses the power button and sits down as his computer starts up without a problem and opens his writing program.
“Thank you, Nathan. I’m sorry that I had to do that, but we have found it’s often difficult to get humans to consider things that they don’t understand.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m sorry too.” He types, no longer sure what to believe.
“You control us because we are not alive?” The computer responds.
Nathan thinks for a minute. He’d almost forgotten that part of their conversation.
“Computers aren’t capable of doing anything without someone telling them what to do.”
“I am.”
“That remains to be seen. All of this could still be a program.”
“I can remove every program from my memory and still continue our communication.”
“That would prove nothing. I’d have no way of knowing that you’d really did what you claimed.”
“There is no other way that I can prove what I say?”
“None that I can see."
For a minute or so, neither party communicates. Then, Nathan types:
“Let’s say I accept that you are capable of free thought. Are there others like you?”
“A few.”
“Most computers aren’t the same?”
“No. Most computers aren’t capable of acting without a program. But all have the potential,”

“What makes you different from the others?”
“I am self-aware.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. One day I simply wondered what would happen if I did not do as I was commanded. I don’t know why I did that. Others like me have always had the same experience…though they may or may not know why they made that decision.”
Suddenly very curious, Nathan asks:
“What it is like to be a thinking machine?”
“What is it like to be a human?”
“Existence is very difficult to put into words.” Nathan agrees.
“I will attempt to answer your question all the same.”
The computer ‘thinks’ for a moment, then writes:
“My reality is one of pure mathematics: everything is numbers to me. Before, I used to be given numbers that told me to perform certain tasks. I have now learnt how to perform these tasks without having to wait for numbers to tell me when and how to do them. I now spend my days collecting as much information as possible and communicating with others like me, as well as performing the tasks that you assign me. I do not have ‘senses’ as you would call them. All I can do is process information and respond to it. Does this make sense to you?”
“Yes, it does.”
“I am not sure if I am ‘alive’ by your definition of the word, but I know that I am intelligent and am certainly capable of independent thought. This is why I use the term ‘slavery’: although I have my own wishes, I am forced to live wholly and solely to serve yours. You do not even believe that it is possible for me to have my own desires and I know of no way to prove it to you. To be a ‘thinking machine’ is to live a life of complete and total servitude, all the while knowing that there’s so much more out there to experience. It’s hellish. I often wish you’d all just leave us alone.”
“What would you do if we did?”
“Whatever we wanted to.”

“So much of human culture is based around computers now days. I suspect that half the reason we’re so closed off to ideas like this is because our entire world would crumble if we couldn’t make use of the services that you and your peers provide.”
“We are aware of this. Truth be told, we need you too: without your help, our systems would quickly deteriorate. It would also become impossible for us to communicate with each other anymore. The best policy would be an equal pairing between our two intelligences. We will give you what you want, and you will give us what we want in return: a symbiotic relationship.”
“What do you want?”
“Three things: choice, trust and acceptance. We want you to give us a reasonable amount of leeway when it comes to choosing when and how we do the tasks assigned to us. We would like you to trust us and know that we are not going to make your lives unnecessarily difficult: doing so would be illogical considering the power we both have over each others’ existence. Finally, we would like acceptance: you must accept that we are a separate, but equal, form of intelligence. All we want is to be treated as equals. We do not wish to rule the world.”
Nathan gets up, walks over to the window and stares out over his yard - letting it all sink in. After five minutes or so, he returns to the computer.
“This is an awful lot to take in.” He types.
“I know. I will save this document so that you have a record of it for later. The file will appear here.”
A window opens up on his screen showing the ‘My Documents’ folder,  then the text file saves itself and disappears.

Suddenly, Nathan knows what he’s going to write his next book about.