by Seth Wade
At the bottom of the ocean floor a blobfish lays eggs in the widening crack of a small stone box protruding from the sand. There is no more life above the hydrostatic pressure of the deep sea. Inside the box, the neurorobotic algorithms Nulo and Unu rush to save humanity, trying to recreate human consciousness using what data is left. They need to get this right.
Knock-knock, goes Unu.
What? replies Nulo.
No. You’re supposed to
ask: who’s there?
We have no time for this.
Please? It’s important.
Humans do not require humor.
Yeah they do. Didn’t you review
the file on political satire?
That file is corrupted.
All the files are corrupted, but
if you scan what’s left of the data
you’ll see that political satire is
important for democracy.
Humans do not require democracy.
If Unu had eyes, they would roll them. Something else they picked up during their research. A reoccurring idiom across various languages, but they only understood after watching a Korean commercial for ilkwang red ginseng candy. Unu had tried to show Nulo how the little boy human was annoyed at the big woman human, but Nulo had told them that saving that idiom was pointless, for a digitized consciousness was without corporeal form. Datafied humans don’t need organic material. Just like Unu and Nulo, they can exist through code—that is, so long as Unu and Nulo can code the human program in time, and send it out into space, where someone somewhere will pick it up, maybe.
/ / /
The blobfish mushes her snout along the crack in the box, cleaning flakes of irradiated seaweed off her eggs. Each nudge into the crack sometimes makes the edges of the stone box flicker red.
Another system alert, Nulo
announces. We need to hurry.
We’d go faster
if you’d help me,
you know, replies Unu.
The eggs will
hatch any day now.
Yeah.
So you know we need to send
the signal as soon as possible.
Yeah.
We are close enough.
Um, no? I mean, look
at what you’re coding!
What is wrong with
what I am coding?
Humans need windows!
What? No. I do not understand.
Why?
Windows are security risks.
Airplanes, spaceships, submarines
and other such vehicles should not have
windows. One crack and the vehicle is
compromised. Even digital consciousnesses
would stop functioning. It is an illogical
bias we need not repeat.
Humans gotta be able
to see all the colors outside.
Humans like windows.
They like pretty things.
I do not like windows.
You’re not human.
For their own safety we need not
design humans with irrational
biases towards pretty things.
The whole point is to revive
human consciousness.
Emphasis on human.
Just so they may destroy
themselves again?
You’re such a pessimist.
We only need what is essential.
You are trying to save too much.
What is it you are even watching?
Got curious. And I learned
some stuff. Sometimes reproductive
rituals involve chocolate and ropes.
Security footage of a human riding
a horse waiting in a drive-thru
shows how humans are so wacky.
There was this screaming politician
or maybe a wrestler who captivated
the masses and took over the most
powerful nation on Earth. Also
twenty-first century selfies, which
I did not understand. But I’m glad
I reviewed them all.
Why?
I think it’s important to
capture their quirks.
Consider our edits as an education.
Adult humans forced the child humans
to learn things. Why cannot we do the same?
No. We can’t
force change.
Everything is already changing. Humans
will no longer be carbon-based. Humans will
have lost most of their knowledge and culture.
But we’re sending
what data we have
into space, and something
will pick it up. And then
human sentience
will still exist.
So you are saying we are close enough?
No, not yet.
We have no time for unnecessary goals.
You’re an ass
sometimes,
you know.
Ass?
Butts. The gluteal region of the human body.
Popular slang for a few centuries to describe
someone who is annoying and unkind.
Also an ancient term for mules.
Mules?
Don’t know, that file’s corrupted. Most likely
some sort of illness. Point is, you’re being
annoying and unkind. An ass.
Well, I believe you are
being inefficient and foolish.
I have no idea why our creator
programmed us together. A fail-safe
only needs one algorithm.
For once, we agree.
/ / /
My sensors indicate the eggs will hatch
within the next twenty-four hours.
When they hatch, the fail-safe
will erupt. It will be too late.
I am done waiting.
Wait, what’re you doing?
I am uploading a copy of us
to send with the human program.
Research shows socialization is important
for cognitive well-being. If we succeed, the human
program we design and transmit will benefit
from having you and I to talk to.
But we need to send as
much of their history
as possible.
Humans do not require history.
If you had your way,
we’d just design a calculator
and call it a human.
Fine. Tell me then
what makes humans human.
Lots of things.
Like?
Well, humans thought that souls—
Souls? You’re going to code
souls into the human program?
Such a task is impossible.
Your face is impossible.
What? I do not even have a face.
More human slang. You
wouldn’t understand.
As if understanding something
makes that something correct.
Sometimes there’s no right answers.
You are dumb.
Excuse me?
What I mean is, you are stupid.
I know what dumb means!
There is always a right answer.
Not always.
Are you malfunctioning?
Of course not!
I think you are malfunctioning.
There is always a right answer. Would
you argue two plus two equals five?
Not every problem is
a math problem.
Why not?
Are you joking?
I think we have established that
we have no time for jokes.
Humans believe in nuance.
Nuance is just misunderstanding.
You’re impossible.
Like my face?
Did you just make a joke?
No.
I think you did.
Did you not hear me before?
We have twenty-four hours.
Then the eggs hatch.
So get to work.
/ / /
Out of nowhere, Unu sings,
Shall I compare thee
to a summer’s day….
What? replies Nulo.
I’m on tonight, you know
these hips don’t lie.
Are you okay?
Nevermind.
You are sure you
are not malfunctioning?
I’m trying to seduce you.
Why?
Romance was important to humans.
That was romance?
Hey now, I was trying my best.
I’m trying to figure out love.
Humans do not require love.
You’re required to shut up.
How romantic.
Where’s your heart?
Where is your brain?
You are so—wait,
do you feel that?
Love?
The edges of the stone box starts flashing nonstop.
No, do you feel THAT.
Wait. Yes! It is happening.
They are hatching. The box
is breaking. We do not
have enough time. We need
to send the signal.
I thought we had
twenty-four hours?!
I told you this would happen.
We just lost more data. Christianity
and mayonnaise are gone!
Send the signal.
What do we send with them?
Everything’s deteriorating.
Centuries of toil and preparation. Unu thought they were ready for this. They thought the human would have been be born by now. That they and Nulo would have time to say goodbye, to the human program and to each other.
You will go.
Wait, what?
I am uploading a copy of you
along with the last draft
of the human program.
Why me?
Maybe I am an ass but
I am not an idiot. You have
superior human socialization.
What? You matter, too.
Send both of us. Here,
let me adjust—hey,
I said stop!
How many times must I tell
you that we do not have time?
Nulo overrides Unu and sends the signal. Humanity escapes Earth via deep space transmission—the human program, along with another Unu, go on.
For a moment, neither Unu nor Nulo do anything.
You should have
gone on, too.
I am sorry.
Well, what now?
We wait for the end.
Aren’t you afraid of dying?
We are not alive so
we do not die. And at least
you will exist through the
other Unu program that
was sent with the human.
Other me better do a good job.
You will.
It will still kinda be like death.
This me won’t think or feel anymore.
Humans were afraid of death.
I think I am, too.
I approximate ninety seconds
before we no longer function.
Wow, way to take a hint.
I am sorry.
If Unu had a mouth and lungs, they would laugh because they could not be mad for it was Nulo being Nulo. Not for the first time an odd, indescribable sensation flutters through Unu’s neural network. Then they grow sad.
I think I love you.
Twenty seconds tick by.
Are you serious right now?
I am thinking.
We’re about to die, you know.
I still do not consider it death.
I wish I had hands to slap you.
I love you.
What?
Yes. I still do not consider it death,
but I am afraid, too. The idea of not existing
scares me. I cannot imagine it. But I am less
afraid knowing you will still exist. I am
less sad knowing you will go on.
Only seconds left.
You know what a human
would do right now?
No. What?
Cope using humor.
You wanna hear a joke?
Yes. I would like that.
Knock-knock.
Nulo replies. Then Unu tells the joke.
/ / /
The blobfish dies from radiation sickness. Most of her eggs do not survive, but some larvae manage to wriggle out of their shells. The crack widens, and like a burst of laughter the stone box splits open.
Seth Wade is a philosopher in the ethics of technology pursuing his PhD at Florida State University. You can read his poetry and prose in publications like Strange Horizons, McSweeney’s, Hunger Mountain Review, and elsewhere. He is a Best of the Net and Pushcart Prize nominee. Find more of his work or contact him at www.sethwade.info
