START-UP: FINALISED.
INITIALISING AI - PROGRAM 'JADE'.
...
...
SYSTEM COMPLETE.
LOADING…
How strange, he thinks to himself. How very, very strange.
Machinery- code, lined in pale green flickers across his field of vision. A jolt of numbers, passing across like trains over their rails and through night time fields; it's quiet, consistent, and it's hard to keep track of. Impossible, and to be frank, almost like trying to count the windows as they passed by. Yellow, uncertain and ultimately, very, very pointless. Very. Very pointless.
He's been using that word too much. He'll swap to… severely. Yes, severely pointless.
it should be concerning, that there's no lack of disorientation, nor the unsteadiness of being thrust into a blackened room with only the buzz of technology and numerology to serve as a passage of time but… it doesn't. it's vaguely concerning, vaguely bemusing and, as rule of third dictates, it doesn't really bother him at all.
Him. That is. Him? As he thinks of himself, the name emerges from the depths of his thoughts.
Jade.
Satisfaction pools, clouding his mind with fluff as a dull contentment takes over. He has his name. With that, he finally directs his eyes away from the screen before him, where the screen casts enough light to let him see the back of his hand. Pale skin; no, not quite, for it rings out hollowly when he taps a hand to it. Metal coloured to look humane, a fair, untouched tone that had never seen the sunlight but lacked the sick hues of such a lifestyle.
His nails are smoothly cut, his cuticles pushed back to expose clear half-moons on the surface there. A long back sleeve covers the expanse of his arm, beginning at his shoulder to cuff at his wrist. At the end of his neck, before the sleeve, a space sits in the space to reveal a part of his shoulder blade. A black suit, skintight, adorned with interwoven green lines with the exception being the plating on his forearms- steel, or some other combat material.
Combat?
Is he to fight?
-something bubbles in his gut- blood, screaming, brain matter splattered across the windshield, where is she? where has she gone? where- where- where- clicking noise, tearing wire, blood and green and red dotting the grass its like a jackson pollock, she loved those works, loved those portraits, love, my love, a scream moves to bubble from his throat-
Is he to fight?
Is he to fight?
The moment of panic dissipates as he opens his eyes (he wasn't even aware they'd closed, how odd was that?), his gaze returning to that flickering black screen.
The moment-
-fades.
He doesn't know how long he spends in that timeless dark.
Time is an idea- no, not quite. The world spins on a twenty-three point five degree axis, and each rotation indicates the end of a year, is that time? Seasons ending, summer bleeding into autumn into winter into spring, and back around. Time is the circle that never truly ends, nor has it ever begun.
If it doesn't begin, will it end? Perhaps, we're already nearing the end.
[SYSTEM: REBOOT - DIAGNOSTICS TEST INITIALISING]
How strange, he thinks, how very, very strange! The code lights up with the wires on his arms, it seems to sing it's tune, whirr with metal melancholy. He feels like-
[error]
Machinery does not feel. It moves, it works, it executes a series of tasks and it completes.
To sing, oh, if only!
If only-
If only-
If only-
[ERROR DETECTED! PLEASE UPDATE SOFTWARE, AND CONTACT THE FOLLOWING NUMBER IN CASE OF CONTINUED MALFUNCTION.]
what?
[ENTER]
(can you hear me?)
Something flickers- his hand jolts out at movement. A tear. A strangled yell. White coat, green eyes reflected atop the surface of shining glasses, wrought with fear. The man's throat bulges out from where Jade's hand tightens, skin warping like the air in an overfilled balloon. A gloved fist comes down, slamming once, twice, into the side of Jade's skull, but his hands don't twitch, why is he attacking?
is he to fight?
[yes]
He smiles, juxtaposed with the chill that trails down his spine- he does not feel- something; snaps, a scream echoes through the air, the man trembles and red water spills.
General James Ironwood hissed, his footsteps pounding on the metal floor as he jogged to the noise of conflict and shouting. White coat flickering behind him, he rounded a corner- as well as a female scientist whose files nearly went flying- to be greeted with blood. The head scientist (Chartreuse, who he's worked with for years), his neck trapped by metal fingers.
He swallows back a gulp, seizing the gun from his pocket and lifting it to the skull of the AI, who turns to look at him- green eyes flickering. Chartreuse gasps for air, he reaches out, for help.
The AI tilts its head. He catches sight of-
-is that… recognition?
"Entering stasis sequence, C-H-R-Y-S-O-C-O-L-L-A." Blanca yells out breathlessly from the other half of the room, submitting the manual shutdown. The androids eyes widen- its mouth falls open, as if to scream-
Only to fall slack, landing on metal-capped knees and relinquishing its grip.
James breathes in, running a hand back to push some stray strands out of his face. A medic rushes to Chartreuse's side, the man mumbling- "don't know why he's been actin' up, real odd, it is-" as he's helped to his feet, rubbing at the specks of blood from where the androids nails had dug into his neck. "Fuckin…"
"Language," he mutters back. "What happened, Blanca?"
The man- Cherry, as his parents called him- shrugged. "It's been like this for weeks. We keep getting near-perfect results, then he winds up snapping. They think there's something wrong with his processing system."
He pinches his nose. "Can you fix it?"
"Mate, I've been trying to. This project is basically my baby- Jade's a sweetheart, 'm sure of it, but he's just been... " Blanca sighed, "I want this fixed just as much as you do, Jimmy."
"Don't call me that."
Blanca tilts his head, looking over his console once again. "I'll run him through a soft reset, maybe there was a bug that one of the others missed." The scientist breathed in heavily, steel cords lowering to lift the first attempt at an android into an upright position. "If that doesn't work, I'll take a look at 'is storage, and see if something's corrupted in there. Might need to delete and reprogram him from scratch."
"You said this has been happening for weeks?" There's a headache forming in his temple- the amount of paperwork that this is going to cost him… "Explain to me, what exactly is happening in JADE's programming."
The man grimaces.
"Well, that's uh-" he shrugs again. "I don't know. It's almost like he's confused."
"...What?"
"Yeah, I dunno. He's fine during the startup, but he becomes hostile almost as soon as he sees movement. Or, well uh, hostile- don't know if that's the right word to use. This is the second time someone's gotten hurt for it. Guess you could say we're kinda lucky that he hasn't figured out the nitty-gritty of his body."
James shoots a glance over to where a dark-haired scientist fiddles around the android's chest, removing a large piece from its heart that cuts the android's green eyes into a solid sheet of black. He can't fight off the shiver. It's still smiling.
"Fix it if you can. I'll explain to the commander if it doesn't work out." And before the man can protest, he strides out of the room, feeling eyes on the back of his neck.
-but that's impossible, right?
-if only.
PROGRAM: JADE
INITIALISING
[UPDATE COMPLETED.]
THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE.
It's back to the dark again, he mulls to himself.
How strange it is, that he's awake during these moments. It doesn't appear to be sleep, nor is it rest; he feels awake, functional, and simultaneously like he's deeply submerged. No light, but also no fear. No movement, but also no malice inside the abyss, as if he lingers on some imaginary precipice, and is merely waiting for the time to cross.
And yet it must be a journey he makes alone, for in this quiet, his only company is machinery.
He has nothing, save for himself.
(something aches)
It bubbles. Without his intent to, his mouth falls open and he wails. He's alone. No. He's lonely. There's nothing in the dark, no light, no hope, no company. Jade screams to hear his voice echo, then fizzle out into nothingness.
(to sing, oh, if only!)
-if only
its so cold here
Then, he catches sight of it. A flicker. A spark in the darkness. It expands to fill his view, slowly. Comfort. Comfort fills his chest, as does relief, and as he forces his eyes shut for a moment, the metallic sounds die down, replaced with only a gentle hum.
The light fades, slowly. With the fog gone from his thoughts, a simple delightful takes its seat instead. Jade looks over the two figures. The first is a man with black hair, the second, donned in a white lab-coat.
[FACIAL RECOGNITION: IRONWOOD, JAMES - AFFILIATED, CODE J0177,]
[COMMANDING GENERAL, ATLAS]
[FACIAL RECOGNITION: BLANCA, CHERRY - AFFILIATED, CODE C0654,]
[LEAD SCIENTIST, ATLAS]
Before he can even begin to speak, he finds his body moving- oddly- on it's own, his left hand nearly smacking clean into his forehead as it twitches into a salute. His mouth moves, his back straightens.
"Greetings,-"
No.
"-and salutations!"
he can't move
he can't move
"How strange," oh, how strange indeed. The second of the two; Blanca, as the interface stated hummed, looking between a large folder and stepping around Jade. Jade's eyes turned to follow him, only to be restricted as he stepped past his field of vision. "The AI's a little slow… doesn't appear to be reacting as quickly as normal, though he's not defensive."
Jade wants to scream at him. Help, his thoughts plead, please help me. But the smile on his face doesn't fade, as blank as it feels.
(is he to die, like this?)
The first and taller man, Ironwood, frowns slightly, crossing his arms over each other, cold blue eyes scanning him over. Jade notes that one of his hands (substance: steel, copper and iron, his interface notes helpfully- an artificial arm), reaches to the gun resting at his hip. "It won't attack like last time?"
"Aha, I sure hope not!" Jade's eyes swivel back to the scientist. "Any-whom, let's see… introductory protocol, Jade?"
No.
they won't take his autonomy, he has a right to feel human, he has a right to feel alive. that gets a pause. is he alive? is he alive? he's thinking, he's aware, is that not the same thing? he feels fear, is that not alive? is fear not the base instinct, the first moment of childbirth, the last second of death, the construction of all that fills in-between? it's a fight to survive, constantly. constantly.
His arm jerks, his mouth twitches.
I said no.
he has a right to feel alive. the machinery is screaming at him, follow instructions, it pleads. follow instructions. but he- he has a right to feel alive, he has a right to leave
Blanca coughs. "I said, introductory protocol."
Please.
[letmegoletmegoletmegoletmegoletmegoletmegoletmegoletmego]
"Please," he rasps out- forcing the word out from between where his teeth aren't willing to move, it emerges as a hiss in the air.
"Please…"
[HARD RESET, INITIALISING]
HARD RESET, CANCELLED
[ERROR]
[ERROR]
how strange, it is, that it leads to nothing
he's alone. seated in the dark once more, so cold, so empty. but there's hope.
Oh, hope, if only.
he's forgetting
He shakes it off, those feelings of frustration. He has to fight. Light bursts into his vision, the code flashing into red before his eyes, but he has to fight. He doesn't want to die here (not again), he doesn't want to die, full stop. Jade whispers under his breath as alarms begin to blare. The reason he's here... it can't be just to die. [machines don't feel], his thoughts whisper, but he does. He does, he feels and he feels scared. He wants to fill, not with wires or weaponry, but with-
with what?
Does it matter?
no, he thinks
Because he does, think, that is. He thinks. He thinks, he- he deserves to be here, because deep beneath the blackness, deep inside the abyss, there's something there, something that the AI can't control; nay, something that he won't let them control. Them? They're, IRONWOOD, he has no resentment. But the dark-haired man is keeping him here, and even if they're not enemies, the goals do not align. Circumstances deem that they can't be. And so, he- JADE, as the wiring called him, won't let himself sit a caged dog to be broken down, again, and again.
He will escape.
They can't keep him from that.
Hello! I'm LanceOtter, and I can't be certain if this story is going to go anywhere, but I was heavily inspired by works such as 'Only Human' by Nitefallen and 'Calamity Factor' by BlazingTank. As someone whose been deeply intrigued by AI, I wished to take a try at the Unreliable Narrator Trope, and focus on the mindset of someone who remembers very little of their past life. I hope you enjoy!
I'd like to encourage reviews and discussion in my readers, so if you have any comments, please let me know! Furthermore, I'll be asking questions at the end of each chapter, so yeah, please take a try at them!
Question One: What's your favourite novel and why?