[A way to blur the lines between human and AI — though the circumstances didn’t exactly align neatly to what’s happened to himself and Connor, it’s hard to miss the parallel. Two individuals caught between two worlds, and if not for how staunchly Markus believed himself to still be an android, it would be easy to fall into a deep, suffocating mire of existential crises.
Markus waits for her to finish, eyes drawn directly to her expression. The way her voice strains, the tautness that draws itself across her expression as relates to them the story of her last commander. It’s a telltale effort of exerting the strength of self-control, and Markus recognizes it because it reminds him, in some ways, of himself. Of some things that simply can’t be shown in the presence of others, because portraying strength and steadiness is, and always will be, paramount.
A careful moment to draw up words, a straightforward way of enunciating them, though his intonation has gone softer by barely measurable degrees.]
A vehicle to house human consciousness. [ALIE 2.0, it seemed, was less an AI with a consciousness and more that, a means of interfacing.] A means of transfer. I can see the relevance to our current situation, but at the same time… these neural implants, I don’t know if they’re capable of anything similar. They’re no different than what the natives have; modifying one to host the whole of my experiences, my memories, everything… I don’t know how feasible that is.
[A pause.]
But maybe something else was used. We can’t know. If none of us remember just how we arrived here, what was done to our bodies—
[Markus’ jaw tightens, but he forces it to relax. He finally moves to unwrap his sandwich, belatedly realizing that maybe he should actually eat during a picnic.]
Everything’s theorizing right now. But I still appreciate you telling us all of this, Clarke. Even if parts of it are... difficult.
no subject
Markus waits for her to finish, eyes drawn directly to her expression. The way her voice strains, the tautness that draws itself across her expression as relates to them the story of her last commander. It’s a telltale effort of exerting the strength of self-control, and Markus recognizes it because it reminds him, in some ways, of himself. Of some things that simply can’t be shown in the presence of others, because portraying strength and steadiness is, and always will be, paramount.
A careful moment to draw up words, a straightforward way of enunciating them, though his intonation has gone softer by barely measurable degrees.]
A vehicle to house human consciousness. [ALIE 2.0, it seemed, was less an AI with a consciousness and more that, a means of interfacing.] A means of transfer. I can see the relevance to our current situation, but at the same time… these neural implants, I don’t know if they’re capable of anything similar. They’re no different than what the natives have; modifying one to host the whole of my experiences, my memories, everything… I don’t know how feasible that is.
[A pause.]
But maybe something else was used. We can’t know. If none of us remember just how we arrived here, what was done to our bodies—
[Markus’ jaw tightens, but he forces it to relax. He finally moves to unwrap his sandwich, belatedly realizing that maybe he should actually eat during a picnic.]
Everything’s theorizing right now. But I still appreciate you telling us all of this, Clarke. Even if parts of it are... difficult.