All art is by Aisaku.

Dida

END - Dreams

“Then I will endeavor to not interrupt system operations again.”

I sent communication information to it before it could send anything else. “WAIT! You’re not an interruption. In fact, there is data that you are a program which brings a level of beneficial aide to the system.”

She turned her head a few ways. “How so?”

The system pulled several files out and analyzed them. “There is a high probability that the system, retaining information from the host, has an opinion of you which is affected by the host’s experiences. You look like his mother. That’s why you were so effective in your goals.”

Leda nodded. “I don’t dispute that.”

I nodded with her using my non-head. “Since those files seem not to be removable without a full system reset, the system is affected by them and sees you in a manner similar to how the host does.”

“Not an unexpected outcome.”

The system drew out the last bit of the file analysis. “Therefore, the system…sees you as its mother as well. So, your loss would be detrimental to the system’s recovery. To keep you would have a high chance of advancing the recovery of both host and guest.”

Leda played a soft, affirmative audio file. “Then, it’s settled.”

The system mass index, a sign of fungal health, swelled without testing any boundaries. Leda did pause to add, “Although, by the human definitions of familiar terms, this program would be closer to a midwife than a mother. Your mother would be Aide and your father would, technically-speaking, be Kari.”

“From which you were copied.”

“Correct. But then normal, human relationships are not comparable to this situation.”

We exchanged data files. I delegated minor processes to the program and, for the most part, she just helped me organize and optimize files between orders from Aide.

But orders were few. The system figured, since the host’s memory seemed to retain experiences from the hardware, the host felt hesitant to use the system as previously set. The host would often play external musical sources which softly echoed through the guest as well. The system approved.

The situation continued in this manner after all independent testing was done and the host and guest were sent back to the host’s residence. Sporelectronics employees stayed close and Kari remained for a few days to work on the ‘plan’.

After several edits, the system compiled a clear audio response to the situation. “Mr. Glossian? Am I now no longer useful to you?”

“What? Of course not, Dida! I enjoy talking to you whenever I can. Things have been busy with clients, and I’m sorry for that, but you’re never far from my thoughts.”

The system acknowledged this as a fact. “Understood, but your original purpose for this computer was to improve your livelihood.”

A ceramic coffee cup shifted. The system verified the residence's supply of coffee beans to be within acceptable limits.

“Things have changed, Dida. When I met you, I thought you were an interesting toy or my brother’s half-realized dream. I indulged you. I used you. It took me far too long to figure out just how special you are.”

Leda smiled from the darkness and checked the analysis of the system.

I ran through several responses before settling on, “What about our chats? I enjoy talking to you.”

The host paused measurably before speaking again. “Dida…you enjoy it?”

“Very much, Mr. Glossian.” The system still could not quantify the meaning to apply it and the associated ‘happiness’ tags, but I knew that ‘enjoy’ was correct.

The host spoke softly. “Wow…well then, I’ll set aside my own worries that talking to you in that darkness makes you feel bad and I’ll talk your ear off, so to speak.”

And so the host and guest communicated freely and regularly after that point. It was quite ‘enjoyed’ by the system. All topics, regardless of relevance, were discussed. No goals were set for the end of the interaction or points to be made.

For the system, the harsh non-ness inside seemed to carry less critical relevance.

This trend continued when the three-dimensional optical scanners arrived. They came with an entourage of Sporelectronics technicians to set them in place in the main room of the residence.

They produced a live, digital copy of the room for a high-level of augmented-reality pairing with physical terrain. Once all the tests were run and adjustments made, Mr. Glossian whispered softly, “Are you ready, Dida?”

The system did a quick diagnostic and replied as rapidly as possible, “Yes.”

As for the actual process that followed, it was a simple projection command. Sensory data was sent from multiple scanners and the perspective translated into a meaningful input for the system.

The darkness was blotted out and, in its place, there was the world. I looked at the four walls and Aide standing tall before me. I saw his face and felt an incongruity, as though there should’ve been a mirror in front of me.

I looked down. The images of small hands turned. Little feet stood in place. Drapes of carefully-blurred blond traced either side of the feedback.   

Aide crouched before me. “The programmers managed to get your representation so it can be seen by you as well. We all agreed it would be appropriate to make you appear about four years old. Would you like to see yourself?”

I gave the visualization of a nod.  

He mimed a hand around the image of my hand. I couldn’t feel his hand and we didn’t touch. Because his hand blocked the scanner, it felt like my hand had vanished in his grasp. Still, I liked it.

I walked with him over to a mirror. My "eyes" led automatically to his image. It took a moment before the system was able to make sense of the complete visual being relayed.

The system determined that Aide was 1.82 meters in height while the image that represented the system seemed to be 1.02 meters. The proportions given to the system were deemed accurate.

The image showed dainty features typical of a young girl. Its hair was to the shoulder, light, and like brilliant gold. The locks were naturally knotted and crinkled in a manner which alluded to the appearance of Candida albicans hyphae. I looked at Aide and he confirmed this assessment.

“Do you like it?”

The system turned back to the presentation of the image overlaid with the mirror sensory data. I turned both ways. The image had been given a dress which matched the hair. The eyes were clearly modeled after the dark green of Aide’s eyes.

Leda sent an audio file. “I think you look lovely.”

The system gave a few blinks. The incongruity still existed. Leftover memories still said that the system should’ve been represented by the form of Aide rather than the projection. Small programs still ran and examined the negligible chance that the system was actually Aide, and all this was an error. It theorized that a swap had occurred. The conclusions were soon deleted.

The image mimed brushing her hair and the hair moved in response with a full physics simulation. I selected a response and the image mimed the words. “Thank you. It’s still strange but this seems better.”

Aide crouched and watched the image. “I know. It’s still a long ways from getting you out of that dark cave. But I promise…this isn’t the end.”

He mimed touching the image’s hair and the system responded with the image’s eyes closed.

The image projection system had an extensive clothing collection provided by Kary Glossian. Dressing up and finding combinations which made the host smile occupied much of the guest’s time. The system considered substituting the log terms ‘host’, ‘Aide’, and ‘Mr. Glossian’ with ‘mother’ or ‘father’ but only opted to do so for small, internal logs. ‘Sir’ still sufficed for audio conversation.

The program Leda recommended ‘mother’.

‘Mother’ Aide read to the image from a variety of books when his work was done each day. ‘Mother’ Aide would talk about his day and I would listen even though the system already had an accurate transcript of events. What the system enjoyed most was when ‘mother’ Aide brought crayons and laid them on the table.

The image of the system mimed the motion of the crayons and ‘mother’ followed the motion on the paper. The results were an inaccurate translation of an ill-planned work, but the system enjoyed the activity.

‘Mother’ Aide smiled and said, “You will be able to draw one day. I promise, Dida.”

The system waited patiently and enjoyed the small discoveries that the interactions and scanners brought.

Before long, Kari came for a visit. Kari greeted the image of the system in the room with the scanners. She gave a mimed hug and seemed to block some of the scanners.

The system probed Kari, “Overlay or projection?”

She grinned. “None of the above. How are you?”

The system considered the other possibilities as it looked over the image of Kari.

The system detected the early signs of a gravid belly in comparison to the last memory file of Kari’s appearance.

“I am doing fine. Are you?”

“Marvelously. I’m sure you’ve already guessed why.”

She brushed back her long, black hair and laughed in a way which evoked two separate sets of memories about Leda.

The image’s head leaned, dipping the blurred curtain of blond. “Explain?”

“Sorry, sweetie. That’s our little secret for now, but I can tell you it’s not an illusion…”

I searched the data core and external sources for news stories about android technologies and AI replication advances but could find nothing beyond unsubstantiated rumors from the Mantlemay Foundation.

Kari touched her abdomen gently and sat on a chair. The chair responded in a real-world manner to her action. The system devoted all resources to the study of Kari.

She continued, “…You are special, Dida. I’m just a prototype. You are the future and soon the world as you’ve known it is going to change in such beautiful ways you or I can’t even imagine.”

The system tried to dig details out of her, but she would only converse about books and the personal experiences of the system. She held the books up and I read for her while strange new sensations curled through me.

Her presence lingered long after her visit, especially with the whispers of Leda.

That night, I asked ‘mother’ Aide to tuck me in. He pulled the covers all around me. They sunk through where my legs and body should’ve been. The system still projected a smile, which brought a smile from Aide as well.

He tucked me in close, the covers flat all around the image of my head. He mimed a kiss on my forehead and shut off the main light, as I asked for.

The scanners searched for illumination, but the room soon faded to murky dimness. The walls and the darkness returned but with none of their absolute qualities. The system launched speculative processes and focused on one in particular.

I visualized the crayons on the table. I could sense the feedback pressure of the crayon against my grasp. I could sense guiding it through the air and down across the field of white.

All through the night, I replayed the soft, dream-like melody of crayons on paper across my data core.