Poni1Kenobi, another MLP fan musician, has a song titled 'Crystal Heart.' Well, it went on my list of ideas.
I was examining my list of ideas, trying to match Pokemon to prompts, when Porygon came to mind. Crystal Heart stood out among my ideas.
Like so many of my stories prompted by songs, this doesn't really take much from the song. It is inspired by the song, but almost nothing more.
In this story, I do ignore the concepts of brotherly love and sisterly love. They are not truly necessary for this. Just imagine they were talked about during one of the main character's reflections. As well, I do not apologize for the views expressed by the computer.
CRYSTAL HEART
In the darkest part of Silph was a forgotten relic, one of the ancient past. Well, ancient in relative terms.
Surrounded by bookshelves and miles of magnetic tape, a crystalline figure sat on a shelf. The figure had closed eyes, was motionless, and was covered in an inch thick layer of dust. The dust obscured the colors of the figure, but it could be seen that the figure was blue and pink.
The figure suddenly let out an electronic sneeze. It sniffed, snorted to clear its vents, and opened its eyes. The figure was, indeed, alive.
But can such a figure be called 'alive?' I submit to you that it can. I will show you. This figure is a Porygon, the first of a series of man-made, computer-generated Pokemon. This Porygon is angular, clunky, clumsy. In a word, it is prehistoric. It is an antique of a bygone era, when computers were first being widely used. Composed of code, ones and zeroes in a binary sequence, this Porygon is obsolete. Almost.
Once a year, the scientists would come to the forgotten corner of Silph and hook the Porygon up to the computers. It was still the best system cleaner. But with the advent of the Porygon-Z, the Porygon in the corner of Silph became a true relic.
Why do I insist on showing you all of this? I believe you will see. I promise you that this is important. Some would call it unnecessary, but I would contend that this backstory sets the stage for the story I wish to tell.
The year… the year is unimportant. Just know that the Porygon-Z has been perfected and sent to laboratories across the world. Kalos, Johto, Hoenn, Oblivia, all now operate with the Porygon-Z. No one operates with the Porygon anymore. The Porygon should have been dissolved long ago, but it had served some purpose. It is nostalgia, and no one will willingly dissolve nostalgia. It's a simple truth.
Here is the story. As you read, remember this: even machines can have a heart. Even if it is, maybe, a crystal heart of ones and zeroes.
The Porygon sat on the highest shelf, covered in an inch of dust. It breathed slightly, but one wouldn't be able to tell from a moving chest. A small electronic snore emanated from the Porygon's face, around where a nose and mouth would be.
A small particle of dust was dislodged from the Porygon and floated down, getting caught in the current of air entering the Porygon's nasal vents.
An electronic sneeze echoed through the grimy room. Dust fell from the Porygon's body, and it opened its eyes. It had truly not expected to awaken in such a way. Yet, could it feel shock? That was one of many questions that the Porygon had pondered in its hibernation.
Rising slowly and shakily into the air, the Porygon looked around the room. Its optical sensors focused. Then they refocused. There were no scientists in the room.
The Porygon cocked its head, one of many human gestures it had seen and adopted. Where could the scientists be?
Consulting its internal clock, the Porygon dropped a few inches in, if not shock, then in reaction to the unexpected turn of events. It had been, by the Porygon's internal clock, a full ten years since it had awakened to clean the computer systems.
How could the scientists have functioned without the cleaning it provided? The Porygon combed through its memory banks, looking for the data from the last cleaning.
Here was an unused, obsolete file: Porygon2_ . Initiate cleaning procedure… Procedure almost complete… Cleaning complete. Obsolete file Porygon2_ deleted.
Another obsolete file: . Initiate cleaning procedure…
The file had contained information. The Porygon could still piece together fragments that were lurking in its system.
Designed to be a more able, more competent part of the Porygon series, Porygon-Z will be able to work in harsher environments than the original Porygon or Porygon2 could. It will also be able to clean systems far more quickly than its predecessors. Therefore, all Porygon and Porygon2 units will be unneeded, and thus will be shut down.
That would explain the absence. The Porygon's system shuddered slightly, a very unusual occurrence. The Porygon had understood the file and the significance of the words. It was to be shut down. At least, it was meant to have been shut down.
Why had it not? Another question that the Porygon could not answer. Letting a soft sigh escape its nasal vents, the Porygon floated down to the main computer dock and rested on it. Closing its eyes, the Porygon began flowing through the magnetic tape, as it had so many times before.
This was where it had learned of shock. This was where it had learned of the concept of asking questions.
The magnetic tape began to whir, and it flashed through the computer station. Images showed in split seconds on the monitor, showing different things. Images of the moon, of weddings, of towers, showed on the screen.
Words also began appearing. Rocket, rock, tower, cybernetic transplant, parallel universe theory, love, banana, Missing Persons- wait.
The words backtracked through 'Missing Persons' and 'banana' to 'love.' Love. What was love?
Another question. This one the Porygon could answer. It shifted the inside mechanisms slightly, and a monotonous voice started speaking.
"LOVE. A VERB OR NOUN. WHEN TWO HUMANS OR TWO POKEMON ARE ATTRACTED TO EACH OTHER, EACH BEING OF A DIFFERENT GENDER."
Love. The Porygon tilted its head forward slightly. The voice continued. "LOVE IS A CENTRAL THEME TO LIFE. IT IS DISCUSSED BY MANY PROMINENT ARTISTS AND PHILOSOPHERS, SUCH AS MICHELANGELO, LEONARDO DA VINCI, MOZART, BACON, AND GALLIAN. AMONG POKEMON, IT IS NOT DISCUSSED. LOVE HAS APPEARED AS A DRIVING INFLUENCE FOR WAR, ART, NOVELS, AND MANY OTHER THINGS. THE AUTHOR GALLIAN, FAMOUS FOR ALTERNATE UNIVERSE FICTION, OFTEN HAS LOVE AS A THEME AND DRIVING FACTOR. LOVE IS A UNIVERSALLY-ACKNOWLEDGED CONCEPT."
Love… "LOVE IS OFTEN CITED BY HUMANS AS 'THE REASON TO LIVE.'"
The Porygon shifted the inside mechanisms again, and the voice started over. "LOVE. A NOUN-"
As the voice continued, the Porygon's code whirled. Love. It was, according to the computer, central to life. It was the reason to live. But… the Porygon had never known love. Could it? The Porygon sighed. It wouldn't know. Then… could the Porygon say it was alive? Of course not. It had never entertained any thoughts of being 'alive,' at least in the commonly accepted definition of the word. Shifting the mechanisms again, the Porygon accessed the magnetic tape that held the works of Gallian.
"NEVER SURRENDER. AUTHOR: GALLIAN."
"It's over, Farby." Xander didn't shoot a second glance as Farby crumpled to the ground, crying in the pouring rain. Xander the Delphox, the love of her life, had just exited right wing.
The power of the rain increased, soaking Farby to the bone. She didn't really care right then. Maybe the rain could wash away her memories…
"Hey, Farby," a voice said. Farby shook her head violently and curled into a tighter ball. "Come on, Farby. You can't give up like this."
"Who says?" Farby's muffled voice asked. Her body began to heave as the sobs wracked her.
"Well, I do. One of your friends. All of your friends, actually. How about that?" the voice asked.
"Who are you?"
"Name's Victor. Victor the Victini. Guardian angel to the lost."
As the computer continued reciting, the Porygon ran the information through its system. Love hurt others. No. That was wrong. Xander had not been faithful. Right? Yes.
Love can be found in various places. There is a match for everyone. Friendship can proceed love. Love can crack hardened hearts. Yes.
The Porygon found itself nodding. How strange. It had not responded to any code that said to nod. Searching its event log, the Porygon found no record of the nod. It had not originated from its code, then. What was happening?
"RHYTHM OF THE NIGHT. AUTHOR: GALLIAN."
The computer read the story, and the Porygon found itself letting out an electronic laugh. The laugh was quiet and stuttering, but it was a laugh. The Porygon was shocked. Truly shocked, and that surprised it even more than laughing had. Shock was emotion. Surprise was emotion. It had been built, created, coded with binary systems and programming language. It couldn't feel.
But the evidence was before the Porygon. It had felt something. Shock and surprise. That's what it had felt. How?
"Before we have dinner," I say again, feeling stronger, "the rhythm of the night is very nice. Would you care to dance?"
Feeling stronger. The feelings were growing. The Porygon did not know why. It shook its head. The computer stopped speaking as the Porygon shifted the mechanisms to allow the magnetic tape to flow back to where it was held. It floated into the air, stronger than it had been before, and hovered around the room.
A small vacuum nozzle popped out from each of the Porygon's feet. The two nozzles whirred and sucked up dust as the Porygon moved around the room, cleaning the machinery and the bookshelves.
Wherever it went, the Porygon left gleaming surfaces behind. The nozzles didn't only suck up dust, but grime as well.
Finally, the Porygon retracted its vacuum nozzles and looked around. It nodded in satisfaction. Satisfaction? Another emotion that the Porygon couldn't explain. It shook its head and, grabbing the burnt-out light bulb with its body, twisted it out. It carried the bulb to the garbage can, dropped it in, and took a new bulb out of a partially open closet. Screwing it back in, the Porygon floated over to the light switch and bumped it.
Light filled the room, showing off the many machines that fed the computer. Around the walls were bookshelves filled to the brim with novels, scientific texts, and pamphlets.
The Porygon allowed the satisfaction to come.
According to its internal clock, two days had passed since the Porygon had awoken from hibernation. No one had come to check on the sudden change in the room.
The Porygon didn't care. It had learned how to take books off of the shelves, and was slowly working its way through the massive library in that room. Some things it didn't understand. It had enjoyed, for example, "Haven't We Been Here Before?" by Gallian, but couldn't reconcile the apparent disregard for destruction's place in the life cycle. Things the Porygon hadn't understood were filed away in its code for later examination.
There were many things, though, that the Porygon did understand. It understood Akrovia's dissertation on the social identities of different sects of humans. It also understood Akrovia's essay on gender roles. The Porygon wondered often what gender it would be if it were a Pokemon that could have a gender.
Along with book study, the Porygon often let the magnetic tape roll through the computer. Through that, the Porygon had learned of the life cycle and Gallian's error. It had learned of jet propulsion, of underwater tectonic theory, and the parallel universe theory, among other things.
The most interesting thing it had found was a set of papers on the Porygon2 project. The Porygon had studied these intensely, learning about the project from the beginning formation of the idea to the activation of the first Porygon2. The papers described, in detail, the processes and code necessary to create a Porygon2. Ever since then, whenever the Porygon came across a concept talked about in the project papers, it scrutinized the concept until it was fully understood.
The Porygon never stopped studying. It never felt tired, a word it had learned from A Study on Sleeping, Third Edition. Soon enough, the Porygon had heard everything on the magnetic tape. It started the archive over, understanding ideas far better than it had the first time through.
By the time a week had passed, the Porygon was confident that it could convince a board of directors of the necessity of an environmental measure, compute the number of molecules in a Ditto, and even program a nuclear weapon to zigzag through the air and explode at precisely the fourth zag.
What was the Porygon so eagerly searching for? It didn't know. It only knew that there was a piece of an idea, a remnant of a piece, stuck somewhere in its code, driving its actions. The Porygon wouldn't understand what it was searching for until a full month had passed.
A full month had passed from the time the Porygon had awoken. It had gone through the magnetic tape more than fourteen times. It could, if it had a mouth, recite the entire contents of the tape word for word. It had read most of the library in the room. There was only a single shelf left.
This shelf it had intentionally left for last. It feared the final shelf. It had also gotten used to having emotions. The Porygon wasn't quite sure, but it suspected that the artificial intelligence programmed into its code was evolving. Yegevya Teschnikova had proposed an idea he called 'evolutionary automation,' which suggested that a creature, if programmed with artificial intelligence, could gain some semblance of sentience. In essence, Teschnikova said, a lengthy period of time without external orders allowed the artificial intelligence to work by itself and overcome programmed barriers. The Porygon thought this was plausible and accepted Teschnikova's explanation.
The fact remained, though: the Porygon feared the final shelf. It was a shelf devoted to programming artificial intelligences. Two days before, the Porygon had stopped reading through the library from fear of the shelf.
It couldn't say why it was scared of the final shelf. Perhaps it didn't want to know such things. Maybe the knowledge would break it. It didn't know. But it also knew that, if it didn't study the final shelf, it wouldn't feel complete.
So, a full month after waking from hibernation, the Porygon pushed aside its fears and took the first book off of the final shelf. The book was Artificial Intelligence Systems for Artificial Life, by Teschnikova. It lowered the book to the floor and opened to the first page.
With the first words, the Porygon was caught in the subject. It devoured the text and moved to the next one. Then the next one. Then the next, the next, the next, and finally the final text.
Using a binary exponent matrix, align the crystalic equations. Sentences from the texts raced through the Porygon's code. Allow the artificial intelligence web to populate to point zero eight nine two. The Porygon finally realized the remnant of the piece of the idea lodged in its system. When the point zero nine has tripled in quantum space, switch the quantitative force with the qualitative force. What if it created a Porygon2?
The idea had potential, the Porygon knew. Potential to succeed, but also potential to catastrophically fail. Nevertheless, the Porygon knew it wanted to try. It wanted to know what love was.
And so the Porygon went to work. Using the computer and the magnetic tape, it put together binary exponential matrices, crystalic equations, artificial intelligence webs, quantitative and qualitative forces, and populating systems. It designed the pieces so that, when put together, they would create an artificial intelligence identifying as male.
Finally, two weeks after beginning, all the pieces were created. The Porygon had double and triple checked every piece, and each line of code fit the way it was supposed to. All that was left was to activate the crystallization protocol.
The Porygon floated to the button that would start the protocol, but didn't press it. What if the Porygon2 didn't appreciate what the Porygon had done? What if… what if the Porygon2 left, not loving it?
The questions whirled through the Porygon's intelligence. It sighed. It was useless. There was no way it could hope to create someone to love. The Porygon swiveled in the air. It meant to delete the code and leave it all alone, but as it swiveled its foot hit the activation button.
It spun quickly, panicking. There was no way to stop the crystallization protocol once it had been activated. It began deliberately taking air in and out of its nasal vent, and its code slowed down.
At the side of the machine, the crystallization protocol had begun. Layers of crystal were materializing in the docking station as the code solidified. The Porygon watched in fascination as layer upon layer built up. The final layers built up a head, and then the protocol shut off. All of the code had been deposited.
The Porygon was thankful it didn't need to breathe. If it did, it wouldn't be able to right then. There, on the docking station, was a smooth, curved Porygon2. The Porygon sniffed through its nasal vents. It knew it couldn't cry, but it wished it could.
The Porygon2's eyes slowly opened. Then they blinked. The Porygon2 looked around the room, nodding slightly. Its gaze settled on the Porygon, who felt something race through its system.
"Hello. I am a Porygon2. My operating number is NICHOLAS. What is yours?"
The Porygon looked wildly around before its eyes widened. It settled on an unused docking station, tapped into the voice system of the computer, and quickly familiarized itself with the coding.
"I AM A PORYGON. MY NAME IS…" The Porygon stopped. It was at a loss. It had never needed a name. Now it had to choose one?
A distant memory flew through its intelligence. It remembered a scientist speak of some sort of stick. What was it? Yes. "MY NAME IS POGO."
"Pogo?" the Porygon2 asked. Pogo felt a thrill of exhilaration at finally hearing a question spoken out loud.
"YES. YOU ARE NICHOLAS. I…" Now that the time had come, Pogo wasn't sure what to say. She had assumed love happened automatically, but the doubts that had crept in before the crystallization protocol had thrown that for a loop. Could she say she built Nicholas? Could she really say that she built him so that she could know what love was?
"You…" Nicholas trailed off. He hesitantly lifted off of the docking station and came to a hover. His hover was shaky, but it steadily improved.
"I… I BUILT YOU. I WANTED TO LEARN WHAT LOVE WAS." Pogo hung her head.
"Ah."
Pogo closed her eyes, wondering at her own ambition. How could she have been so blind to what would happen? How-
"What is love, Pogo?"
What? Pogo looked up. Nicholas was floating in front of her, head tilted to the side. He was curious, Pogo realized. And then she realized that her attempts to implement Teschnikova's ideas were successful. Nicholas was curious, ready to learn, and had a semblance of sentience. Just like her.
"LOVE IS WHEN TWO HUMANS OR TWO POKEMON ARE ATTRACTED TO EACH OTHER," Pogo said through the computer. "EACH IS A DIFFERENT GENDER. I AM A FEMALE, AND YOU ARE A MALE."
"We possess love?"
Pogo considered the matter. "IF YOU ARE ATTRACTED TO ME, THEN YES. IF NOT, THEN NO."
Nicholas nodded, eyes bright. "That seems right. Are you attracted to me?"
Pogo didn't hesitate. "YES. EVEN THOUGH I BUILT YOU, I FEEL AS THOUGH I DID NOT. I AM ATTRACTED TO YOU, NICHOLAS."
"And I feel an attraction to you, Pogo," Nicholas said, bobbing up and down. "It is a strange feeling, but I like it."
"AS DO I, NICHOLAS."
Two scientists walked down a corridor. One was fat and tall, the other was thin and short.
"I don't get where we're going, Dennis," the short one complained.
"You'll see, Frank. We used to have a Porygon clean the computer systems, but now Dr Greene wants to use the room for other things. We need to get the Porygon into a safer place before he comes through with a hatchet." Dennis stopped at a door. "Here it is."
Frank's mouth fell open. As Dennis opened the door, light flooded into the corridor. A blue and pink blur whizzed past the open doorway.
"What in the world?" Frank whispered. Dennis' eyes were wide.
At the computer, Pogo was working busily. Nicholas was chasing a small Porygon around the room. "Come back here, Natalie!"
"Hee hee hee! You can't catch me, Daddy!"
Pogo turned from her work. "Please do keep it down to a dull roar, dears. I've almost perfected the idea for environmental overhauling."
Nicholas and Natalie exchanged a look and sneaked up behind Pogo. Frank went to leap into the room, but Dennis held him back.
"Roar!" Nicholas and Natalie shouted. Pogo jumped.
"That's not what I meant!" Pogo shouted as Nicholas fled with Natalie.
"Dennis, that's the genius behind the Habitat Overhaul Initiative!" Frank whispered. Pogo turned to the doorway and saw Dennis and Frank. She nodded in greeting and went back to her work.
"Frank, I believe this is more than that," Dennis said, closing the door. He walked back down the corridor, Frank right behind him. "It'll be easy to convince Dr Greene to not refurbish. He's got a soft spot for Pokemon habitats, and loving families in particular."
Dennis and Frank continued down the hall, leaving Pogo in her home, with her family, whom she loved with all her heart.