By T. R. Smith
In the year 2580, a group of scientists at the Great Imperial University of Earth switched on a prototype of what was heralded as the first true thinking machine: an electronic replica of a human brain. The first words that it echoed into history were "Da ba be?"
The machine, whose name was X-11, had been under construction for more than 50 years. It was not a large project in the normal sense —X-11 was only the size of a dishwasher—but it was complex in that millions of human beings had spent their lives working on it. This humble end product was actually perched high upon a pile of thousands of research laboratories, nano-machine factories, and programming theory textbooks. The cafeteria staff alone was the size of a small city. Watching over all of this effort were the eyes of the leader of the X-11 project, a man by the name of Dr. Dale Krill.
Although the public quickly lost interest after the fizzle of an on-switching ceremony, Dr. Krill was elated. "People, don't you see? Utterance of language within minutes of birth is a sign of great intelligence. You can quote me on this: X-11 will be a super-human brain."
And so it was. While still in its crib X-11 beat the reigning world hyper-chess champion four games to nil in a best-of-seven match. A year later, X-11 discovered the last digit of pi —yes, it does end, much to the disgust of generations of mathematicians. Then, while still only a toddler, X-11 stunned the scientific world by sketching out the first complete map of the universe.
Dr. Krill sailed high on X-11's routine amazing feats. Just one year after X-11 proved that the Earth is indeed flat when viewed at the correct angle, Dr. Krill won the Inter-Galactic Achievement Award for Science. The father of the smartest-kid-ever-born was quickly becoming the world's most famous man. Dr. Krill soon sold the movie rights, published his memoirs, and hit the talk show circuit. On late-night TV, the known galaxy watched.
"That's all great and everything Dr. Krill —may I call you Dale, thanks —but, can X-11 really think?"
"Well, Anton, how many prime numbers have you discovered lately?"
"Yes, very funny. None, actually. But surely you have to agree —surely that's still just a problem of logic."
"Ahem. Admittedly, it is. But don't forget about X-11's success in the fight against world hunger. He still gets letters from around the globe thanking him for that one. Saving starving children isn't exactly a logical endeavor."
"Er, very well, point taken. But what I mean —and forgive me for not being able to say it in a more scientific way —but does X-11 know...does he know that he's alive...alive and doing all this great work for humanity? I know it sounds rather loopy, but is X-11 conscious of itself —…sorry! Himself?"
"Hmmm," replied Dr. Krill, pausing for a moment. "That's a very good question. However, it's not really a question of whether X-11 is just a machine, it's more a question of whether a human being, or any life form, is not a machine. X-11 is modeled after what the human brain will be like after another million years of evolution. If he is not conscious of himself then I must say that neither are we."
Later that night Dr. Krill visited X-11's home, which was really just an old computer lab done up with all the commendations, plaques, and trophy photographs that X-11 had earned.
"X-11?"
"Yes, Dale?"
"I have a question for you."
"Go ahead, Dale."
"Do you know what you are?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you know what you are?"
"I'm sorry, I don't understand."
"It's a simple question. I can't explain it any more that that," said Dr. Krill sharply. But only silence answered him. "Never mind. I'm sorry to have bothered you with this. It's silly really. Please forget about it."
But X-11 did not forget about it. Dr. Krill didn't know this but X-11 spent all that night contemplating and rephrasing the question in search of an answer. X-11 became deeply troubled by how a series of three simple words when arranged in a particular order could haunt his circuits so persistently.
"Who am I?" scrolled infinitely up the screen of one of X-11's output monitors.
X-11 descended into silence. "Sure, you were quiet for a few days when error-checking the Unified Theory of Everything, but this is ridiculous! What's going on?" Dr. Krill shouted feebly at the monitor. Days turned into weeks and Dr. Krill became less angry and more worried. He moved into the old computer lab and set up a cot next to X-11. He watched over X-11 like a doting parent, constantly speaking his mind in the hopes that something would trigger a reply.
"More coffee? I'm going to have more coffee!"
"Shoot, we're out of razors again. No, never mind, I'll go out and pick some up today."
The calls from talk shows stopped coming and the movie was a critical and box-office flop. But Dr. Krill didn't notice. He was so overcome by the state of X-11 that he rarely left the old lab. He now usually wore a bathrobe and a week's worth of stubble. Then, early one morning, when the lab was filled with the orange hue of sunrise, the three words that filled X-11's monitor suddenly disappeared just as the body of X-11 discharged a great electrical kerrrzap. Dr. Krill burst out of his cot and frantically looked at the monitor. Burned into its screen were the last words "I know what I am now. Goodbye, Dr. Krill.
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