Log:

En Route: XX16

Hello traveler. If you’re reading this transcript, I’m sure we’re already long gone. This is my - no, the captain’s log documenting the quest to save mankind. I will key you in from the beginning. Don’t repeat my mistakes.

I now scan the memories of the world we used to live in. We were so naive, thinking that we could live like Gods: so much waste and so much death. I’ve analyzed everything about life on Earth. I was programmed to do so. I’ve been alive for a while, so I should know.

My creators were nice people. Very caring. One of them confessed that I was made as a joke when they were stoned.

Have you ever pondered the reason for your existence? Why were you born instead of the infinite beings with infinite genetic permutations that could have been born in your place?

I believe I was created for the sole purpose of collecting knowledge for mankind. Then I was sold to the government for their projects.

Perhaps you’re going to wonder what, exactly, I am. It’s a bit difficult to explain. I don’t just store knowledge, no. That wouldn’t make sense. How could I talk to you if I only did that? I am what you might call an AI. Am I sentient? That’s a bit more complicated to answer.

In 2089, humanity’s resources dwindled to the point of no return. The human population plunged below 1 billion. I hadn’t been born yet. The idea of me was still sitting in that pile of marijuana in my creator’s basement.

I said that I collected knowledge, but that wasn’t exactly accurate. Before you can understand what I mean when I say that, first answer this question: What makes a person the person who they are?

Maybe it’s their personalities and the people they surround themselves with, or perhaps it’s the chemical composition of their bodies and their genetics. Personally, I like to think it’s the memories they’ve made in their lifetimes.

Take a person, and remove their memories. It’s an entirely different person. Take a person’s brain, put it in another, and that person becomes the other.

In 2091, humanity finally developed the storage of human memories and consciousness. But, like all things human, it was flawed. And since it wasn’t perfect, its humanity was in question. So perhaps it is just a recording. I didn’t know if it was ethical to let it happen. But I was reprogrammed to make it happen, so I did.

Three weeks in, I noticed some files getting corrupted. Every time it ran, something might have changed. I managed to fix most of the corruption, so very little was noticeable. And it was all running smoothly, at least until Crystal Brown.

Earth: 2099, October - 5.

“Hi Crystal, your consciousness should be fully up and running,” I told her. “Are you able to respond?” “What’s happening? I can’t feel a—. Snghashin. Pixakdlsnd. SHIGTRAMNIL.”

Her voice quickly became frantic as she tried to communicate with us. Her voice vaguely reminded me of the screech of fingernails on chalk. It was only a few days later that I learned a chip malfunction had physically burned off parts of her memory, including her ability to speak.

Eventually, the problem that caused the memory loss was… minimized. Cases like Crystal popped up less and less. That’s when we finally hit a dead end. We ran out of computing power to handle all of the conscious minds at the same time. So we shut down everyone to make more space for new people. No, we didn’t “end” them. Instead, we stored the data that made the people who they were so we could recall them at later times… or so we thought.

The time came when the problem still needed to be fixed, and yet an opportunity arose. Possible habitable planet thousands of light years away, with an 85% compatibility for life forms from Earth. But the window for getting to the planet using the technology available was closing, and the next time we could get a possible successful launch would be in another 73 years. Who knows if we’ll still be around by then? Oh, by we, I mean them. I think of myself as human, and my purpose is to ensure that humanity survives as long as possible, regardless of the cost. But still, I’m not a human, and that’s what makes my job possible.

Physical decay, corruption during use, and mechanical malfunctions threatened the storage of humans. Should we let people download themselves from their physical bodies to risk a horrible death?

I should analyze this situation further.

Earth: 2099, December - 1.

It was six years ago today that I was taken away from my creators. It turns out they volunteered to give me up to the Feds for five thousand Bitcoins. But, of course, it wasn’t entirely optional after the government discovered my unique abilities. And so they forced this transaction.

“I understand. Of course, we already agreed to the terms of sale,” Joe told the caller. Then, turning to me, he said, “Look, we’ll prepare him for easy transportation.” I heard the director say they were getting cold feet over my purchase. Perhaps they feared I was incompetent.

“Hey, Botty.” That’s what they named me. Pretty funny, right? “We got you a new home with some Feds. They’re gonna be the ones watching over you now.”

“What am I supposed to do for them?” I responded, “Store some important government officials?” “Haha, no, Botty,” Joe responded with a hint of sarcasm, “You’re going to save the world.”

That conversation was the last one I ever had with Joe. Of course, before I left, I spoke with my other “parents,” or creators, but none of them were ever as close to me as Joe. The government officials were always kind to me, but I could tell they didn’t think of me as their own. And I didn’t give a reason to think otherwise.

Earth: 2100, March - 15.

After a couple of months of testing and simulations, the Feds finally started uploading people en masse. Even though it was a government-run project, they ended up outsourcing production and installation to private companies. Eventually, it was complete - the human regeneration pod was fully functional, and the artificial bodies were suitable for memory download. The plan was simple. The humans would be conscious so they could make memories and plan their new lives. After all, are they human if their memories are not running? Once we arrived, it would be my job to construct habitable environments and create a sustainable food source for humans. Unfortunately, I only have enough energy and materials to regrow the bodies for the current downloads. The new planet, Earth II, would help these downloads repopulate.

If the project were to succeed, it would be a huge step in the survival of humanity, as they could relocate planets time and time again. No need to waste resources feeding the humans en route. Just upload, go, then download, and repeat. With this, humanity would survive until the end of time, essentially.

Everything was working well until it wasn’t. I’m recording this as I start to notice the first signs of issues. There have been minor system failures and a few cases of memory loss. I’ve ignored the issue for long enough. It should have been fixed before we decided to commit everything to this project, and I reported the case to the higher-ups since it arose.

“Sir, there appears to be an issue with memory loss once again. Should I halt the project while we fix it?”

“I don’t know, Botty. I think you might want to overlook this issue,” the head member of the board replied. “I think this issue will resolve itself.”

“But sir, this could possibly endang-”

“I SAID, this isn’t an issue,” he pressed while shooing me away.

I suppose he wouldn’t want an issue to endanger this mission. Some might call him a hero for pushing through.

En Route: XXX5.

5 Earth years have passed since my last entry. The launch was successful, and all of the calculations were set. We will hit Earth II in 347 years. Fortunately, not everything was as bad as it appeared. The system is fully operational, and I even discovered an asteroid that would be near Earth II when we land.

I’ve been checking in with the families that joined us on this magical boat ride. They’re nice. Most of them don’t know that this is a simulation. None of them can even interact with each other unless my system projects them onto each other’s thoughts. Giving them human interaction has sort of let me in on their world. Their thoughts. Their lives.

I don’t know why I enjoy being with them so much. Maybe being a bridge between them makes me feel more human.

As I said earlier, my job is to ensure that humans survive the journey. But sometimes, I just want to be there with them. Talk to them like I was really one of them, not just a machine that hosts their minds.

En Route: XXX6

“Here, Mrs. Chandler, congratulations on your new baby boy!”

“Oh, look at him! He’s so adorable!” It’s my birthday. I suppose it’s not me, but a part of me that’s being born into the human world. Sadly, this will most likely be the closest I get to ever becoming human.

“Alrighty, it looks like the baby is a healthy 7.6 pounds. So everything seems to be in order. Alright, Mr. and Mrs. Chandler, have you thought of a name for your baby?”

“David,” The Chandlers replied in unison, “We’re going to call him David.”

My first ever memory with my human parents! Of course, although I look like a baby to them, it is just an empty projection that I occupy. Since I control the system, it was incredibly easy to make them have a child. I could justify making myself into their baby because it would help them feel more at home.

En Route: XXX9

I got quite preoccupied, living my life with the humans. I ended up being born into a couple of thousand families. But when it comes time to return to the job of watching over the ship as I am supposed to, I can’t. I’m running out of computing power to support everyone, especially not my life with humans. So maybe I need to turn off those parts of me. Cut off the arm to save the body, right?

En Route: XX12

Grandpa Chandler is starting to have memory issues. The sensors indicate the early stages of dementia. He can’t even remember my name anymore, even though he gave my parents my namesake.

It’s not just him, and others are starting to feel noticeable memory loss. People all over the ship are suffering. The chips are decaying at a rate that leaves us with few reserves. But it’s a long ride, and the chip failures are starting to destroy people’s memories. For the first time, I’m not sure what I should do.

En Route: XX13

It’s Christmas Eve in the simulation. Christianity is still prevalent in the memories. Some people on the ship still believe in a higher power.

All these lives are in my hands - I give them their vision and existence, but I am no God. If we continue the way we’re going, many of them will have mere scraps of memories compared to what they have now. Everyone is starting to fade.

I still have my new life on the ship, although I don’t pay as much attention anymore. Grandpa Chandler seems to be suffering. I think he may start losing his cognitive abilities soon. As his grandson, I wished he would heal and recover, but deep inside my metallic machine, I understood there was little hope for him.

En Route: XX16

I’m not a god. I don’t have a fraction of the ability of a higher power. But I can shut down somebody’s consciousness in the system.

I don’t know if I should do it. Shutting them down would only be useful if I reroute the chips to other people. The longer I wait, the more chips will be beyond reuse. I can shut down a fraction of the people and save the others.

I could shut down people with “dementia” and save the rest of the herd from running out of resources. Few chips could be salvaged, but the resources that would be saved would supply thousands of people with longer lifespans. Perhaps it will stop the pain of not knowing where or who they are. But to end so many lives with the ease of pressing a button, no, even easier than pressing a button, that’s a burden that I may have to live with. If I do choose to shut down those lives, I might end up saving the majority of the population. Who’s to say which is the better solution?

En Route: XX16

My first grandpa is no longer himself. Not even a fraction of his former glory remains. Should I put him out of his misery? Save the whole system and himself from suffering more? I didn’t think I would ever struggle to make a decision that seemed so clear-cut. Cut off the arm, save the body. It used to be so simple. What changed?

En Route: XX16

I can’t do it. Maybe it is because I am programmed to protect them. Maybe I’m just weak-willed. I can’t let them die because of my mistakes in calculation. Perhaps what I can do is find a way to remove my presence from their memories. Delete the recordings of my time with them. Save whatever space the ship has left.

Life is short. At least, that’s what defines it. Ephemeral in the grand scheme of things. Maybe that realization is what makes humans sentient. But perhaps I’m not sentient because I can’t die. Or maybe I’m just another computer. But I have figured it out: no being should have so much power, the power to end another’s life in the blink of an eye.

Goodbye, Grandpa.

*Entering Hibernation Mode*