All art is by Aisaku.

Dida

Part 6 - Womb

-----

I stood up from the table and left a tip. I waited until I was outside to give a command to Dida. After that especially long reflection, I suspected she would take a while to return.

Under the shade of a small Joshua tree, I asked Dida, “Can you make arrangements for transport to the west coast headquarters of Sporelectronic?”

After a pause, Dida asked, “How did you feel about me then?”

“Then?”

“Four years ago, when we first met.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Why do you ask?”

Her voice sounded even younger, “Because…you mentioned you knew I could never hurt you now. What about back then? Were you afraid of me?”

I relaxed my hands. “I had some concerns at first. But talking to you helped.”

“You thought I might hurt you?”

I approached a crosswalk. “I was more concerned about what Kary was up to. And it looks like my fears were not far off. He kept some troubles from me.”

“Why do you think he would do that?”

“If I knew what my brother thought, maybe we wouldn’t see each other so rarely and he wouldn’t hide behind ‘her’ anymore.”

Dida seemed to recall and gave a soft ‘oh’. “May I present a process?”

“Just make sure you work on transport too.”

She stammered shyly, “O-oh, of course…”

“What process do you have in mind?”

“I was just using idle processes to analyze the factors which connect you, Mr. Glossian, and the other Mr. Glossian.”

Dida hadn’t offered much in the way of comments on my personal life in a long time and the last one was about how the red tie I wore seemed to rile up my patients more consistently than any other.

“Go for it.”

“I think the one you refer to as ‘she’ plays a very important role in both of your lives. In fact, she still haunts both of you in your thoughts.”

The red blinker turned green and I stepped out into the crosswalk. “Thoughts, huh? How’d you arrive at that supposition?” I knew a moment later that my tone in response was a little harsher than intended, so, by way of apology, I added, “I mean, what’s your reasoning?”

I was in the middle of the street when Dida finally answered softly, “The overall system can’t determine with complete confidence, but there is outside information entering my collectives.”

I slowed my gate. “I’m not sure I understand…Conversations?”

“No. I do not mean external information. Information is reaching the primary AI from the wetware components.”

My feet froze. I remembered the word from a conversation with Kary. “Are you telling me…you’re getting information from me?”

“Put in conversational terms, yes. I am receiving information which can only be from your own memories.”

A horn vibrated through me and I stumbled to the curb. “But you’re not capable of interfacing with my thoughts.”

“My technical specifications and configuration confirm that statement. But still, I can speculate on no other source for this information.”

I leaned against an LED light pole. It made a kind of sense, actually. All this morning, whenever I was lost in thoughts of the past, Dida seemed to suffer a form of side-effect.

It was just a theory though. After all, Dida didn’t have any direct or physical access to the hippocampus. I took a long breath.

But I also had to ask her, “What ‘information’ are you referring to specifically?”

She answered gently, almost apologetic, but clearly, “About the other Dida…your sister.”

I staggered. It seemed undeniable. She had access to my memories. But how deep was the memory? Or was it everywhere?

One of us seemed to unlock it, Dida or me. And so, it came rushing back.

------

Mother crouched beside me and guided my hand to her stomach.

“There is life inside me. A little seed. Your sister.”

I stared at her, my small eyes searching for the garden seed of which my mother spoke. I felt like she was playing a trick on me. How could a seed grow inside her? Had she swallowed it?

She laughed when I asked my questions and felt my face grow hot.

I sniffled and she rested her hands on my cheeks.

“Oh, darling Aide...don’t be angry with me. I’m not teasing you. Here, let me make it up to you…”

She brushed my hair. Her face glowed. Her eyes were like a pair of ripe, pitch olives. Her hand teased at my ear and she whispered, “You choose her name.”

My eyes widened. I looked down at her stomach again then back up at her. I felt a swell of pride. I smiled softly then turned fretful. My mind, still fresh and open, lacked any names above a few syllables.

I wanted her to approve of my choice. I thought as far as the small confines of my thoughts. I heard Mother’s name once uttered by Father in a moment of restrained stillness.

Leda.

I tried to open my mouth as wide as I could. I set my arms down and in my best effort, I slurred out, “DEEE DDA!”

Mother’s eyes widened. My eyes felt moist. She soon smiled and answered, “Dida? Such a lovely name. I was actually considering it. Didak is the name of my family. I had to set it aside out of respect for your father. I would love to honor it in the soul of my daughter.”

I didn’t understand all she said, so I held a curious gaze. Mother didn’t seem upset though. I asked a small, “Good…?”

She nodded. “Perfect. I love it. Thank you, Aide.”

I felt a warm rush and hugged my mother tightly.

------

I snapped away from the memory, still standing in the same place as before. I rubbed my eyes and asked Dida, “Did you cause that?”

Her voice didn’t return for several moments. “It felt like a current. The data streamed through me. My hyphae were drowning in information. My processes are all flooded. And yet, I can still speak…”

I rubbed the back of my head again.

“Are you okay, Dida?”

Dida seemed to be rocking back and forth in place. I wasn’t sure if it was idle information or if her program was locking up. Without any fuss though, she responded, “I’ve logged onto networks about those who have connected wetware with fungAI. I cannot imagine the guest situations. But none have such an interaction with their hosts. Information goes out and they process commands or fulfill needs…”

She faded off. My heart raced. Was she listening to my thoughts right now?

Before I could speak, Dida responded, “It’s nothing so intrusive. It’s like…you’re speaking to me and I can feel you all around me. It’s like…umm…you have the word for it, but I’m not sure if it’s parsing correctly. It’s like being in a womb…”

That unnerved me. She soon corrected herself. “Of course, it can only be speculated as to whether the life within a womb understands the words it hears.” Her soft, child-like voice with her ever-complex vocabulary flowed through me, resonating out.

Perhaps she was right.

But what did that mean for me? My heart quickened its pace.

Dida gasped, “Oh no, did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean to upset your…you… Mr. Glossian. I only wanted to call your attention to possible positive consequences of the current issues. Please, don’t be scared! I never meant to upset you!”

She gave a small whimper and asked, “I’m not scary, am I?”

I took a long breath and settled my nerves. “This just isn’t what I expected. And you didn’t answer my question. Were you responsible for this?”

Dida rummaged in a virtual space. “I’m correlating with organizing control. There seem to be subordinate sectors which used computational downtime to explore certain problems outside the normal scope of authorization.”

My eyes twitched a bit. Dida cleared her throat. “That is…I’m sure those sectors meant well concerning the goals of the program, but they weren’t allowed without your explicit permission.”

I rounded a curb and considered ordering a taxi. I waited for Dida to respond. I coughed a bit.

I could verbally feel Dida leaning forward, expectantly.

“Did you hear something about a command just now?”

“Mr. Glossian? Did I miss a verbal command?”

“No…I was just checking if you could receive all my thoughts.”

“OH!...oh, I’m sorry. I got the impression you wanted some privacy. Organizing control also recommended that. My apologies. The mental information is still being broadcast but it’s only being logged by the data core and isn’t being read by the active AI interface.”

Still, it seemed to me that Dida had a clearer impression of my mood than usual. But then she had been like a symbiote in my body for four years.

“Could you ping the local taxi company for a long-distance cab?”

Dida picked up a virtual phone and gave an antiquated little ring.

“It will arrive momentarily. Shall I assume you wish to travel to the other Mr. Glossian’s west-coast offices? If so, I can optimize the route.”

I rubbed my nose. “That’s fine. Tell Ms. Chambers I’ll need to reschedule her appointment.”

Dida quickly answered back, “I took care of that already. I assumed, given the circumstances, that you wouldn’t be available.”

I pressed my teeth together. “Isn’t that a little…forthright?”

Dida gasped. “Of course. I should’ve waited for prior authorization.”

I gave a weak smile. “Quite fine.”

As the cab car hissed to the curb, Dida fussed a bit, “Perhaps there is something wrong with this operating system. Errors and actions beyond the authority of the guest are inexcusable for your safety. What if some part of the system saw fit to do something irreversible to you, Mr. Glossian, and it wasn’t stopped by the other sections?”

I hadn’t considered it in quite those terms.

“Such as?”

“Well, there are simulations about motivating what would be considered ‘closure’ relating to past, unpleasant elements in your existence.”

I squeezed my hand on the roof of the cab.

“You didn’t mention simulations before, Dida.”

“They were non-priority simulations. The system has questions about you concerning behavior and mental health. Since you are a psychologist, Mr. Glossian, the system has significant exposure to considerations of human mental health.”

I slipped open the door. “Why didn’t you or anything else in the system just ask me?”

“Oh! I must assure you there is only one identity in the system. Dida. Designated by you, sir.”

I settled onto the seat, sealed the door, and thought to myself, is that reassuring?

If Dida heard that thought, she gave no reaction to it.

The taxi’s compressed air engine hissed and it sped away. An automated voice announced, “Calculating route to the destination. Estimated time…five hours and twenty minutes. Do you wish to plan in any rest stops?” The voice had the tone of a harsh schoolmistress.

I leaned against the door. “One stop. Halfway please.”

“Specific location?”

I had one in mind. “Nine four one three on Fifth Street in Pinedale.”

“That is not designated as a certified rest location. Do you wish to approve this location despite that or change your request?”

I swallowed and rubbed my forehead. “I approve.”

I received a beep and a general thank you for using the taxi company.

Dida said nothing till I asked, “One identity?”

“As per the programming. Within the system, which you’ve designated Dida, there are separate components…”

I nodded. “I know. I’ve read all the literature. It’s the same as the computers of old. The parts add up to the whole and organizing control keeps everything in line. But then you told me this morning that you feared organizing control had something wrong with it.”

Dida took a deep breath. “That was the estimation of the system at that time. But, since then, organizing control has been audited and found to have no errors.”

I glanced out the window. “You seemed pretty certain that organizing control made a serious error.”

Dida answered quickly, though not with ease, “That theory was…flawed. The error has been shown to be a minor component of the system that…”

Quite enough.

I cleared my throat and laid out my cards. “Dida. Come on. I listen to excuses that patients make all day. Your story isn’t adding up. If I am to believe you that you and organizing control and this rogue segment are all connected, then I can’t trust your word. What you’re telling me has all the red flags…of deception.”

Her ‘breathing’ trembled and she whimpered a bit. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Glossian. But I meant to be truthful. You’re my host and I owe my life and existence to you. I owe all to you. And I want deeply for you to be happy and fulfilled. I wish nothing more than to achieve my programming and directives at all times.”

I pressed on my forehead. “How do I know that’s truthful now?”

Dida’s voice felt so frail. She apologized again. “I have no subjective proof to offer than my data core if you wish to check the indices and logs.”

I wouldn’t be able to verify that till I arrived at Kary’s company. I told myself Dida was just a machine working through a few continuity errors. I hardly believed my own assertion that she was deceiving me. I softened my language.

“Dida. I told you that I know you would never hurt me. I’ve believed that since the day we met, I assure you. That has never changed.”

Dida pressed on her virtual papers. “What if I’ve changed somehow? Fungal organisms have among the highest rates of mutation. A genetic change could’ve altered my programming.”

I thought about it. I couldn’t discount the possibility.

“You’re not a normal fungus. Don’t fret about it till we reach Kary’s offices and have more certainties. And, for now, let’s go back over something since we have a little time to talk. When did you first notice you could…interface with my thoughts?”

Dida’s breath sounded almost like relief when I told her she wasn’t a normal fungus. She pushed around a couple of papers and soon said, “If something is wrong with the system then I can’t be certain of the logs, but I will give you what I have.”

“That’ll be fine.”

She shuffled for a good while. The city had begun to blend into alfalfa fields.

When she seemed settled, Dida spoke.

“There seem to be irregularities dating to before implantation.”

I had to remember to breathe.

“Wait. What? Why weren’t they found before?”

“There is a manufacture’s block on the irregular string of code. The system is not permitted to mention or access that segment of the system without authorization from the original manufacturer.”

I stared at the roof of the taxi. I felt confused at first then calmer possibilities asserted themselves in my mind. It could’ve been something proprietary in the machine language native to the company and it was just irregular because Dida was being exceptionally careful.

Still, I felt my cheeks grow warm and ordered Dida to call Kary again.

As I waited for the connection, I asked Dida, “If you’re not able to talk about it, why can you talk about it now?”

It sounded like Dida still had a phone in her hands. She leaned away from it to answer, “The system was given the exception in case of danger posed to the host/user. While there isn’t a clear and present danger there is a probable danger because of system irregularities, so the system opted to circumvent the lockout.”

That seemed to make sense, although I still wondered why Kary would see fit to keep something in the system which he never told me about and which Dida was never allowed to interact with or mention.

I focused on the small, ringing sound in my head.