Aliens Part 1

A Lecture from The Institute for Scientific Fictions.

“Back in the 50s, 60s, and 70s Science Fiction authors and screenwriters (and here I am generalising for brevity) were worried about bases and leaders. Where did this concern come from? The obvious answer is the Cold War, and the use of Aliens as an analogue for the Soviets; however, I feel it was a result of an over-active paranoia, linked to a subconscious petrified of the unknown, hidden behind the gulf of space (aka the Iron Curtain). Aliens capable of travelling between stars in a reasonable time frame would presumably have their own leader, and there is a maximum number of leaders any invasion needs per group of beings—even if they were socialist. Nor are bases likely to be required. These Aliens can travel through space, between stars. I suspect that our bases would cause very little trouble to these aliens: between teleporters, interplanetary nuclear weapons and lasers of a cataclysmic scale, I foresee very little use to these technically advanced invaders for our bases. Furthermore, their Materials Science would be far in advance of our own, allowing for, at least pseudo-theoretically, the mass production of incredibly complex and programmable pocket-sized folding bases, usable in any condition and fully furnished and supplied for years of fully supported warfare.

King Ethelred IV Part 13

The king grudgingly sent Albert to fetch the artefact’s carriage. It had been placed at the end of the train because it looked jarring next to the beautifully crafted court carriages.

When it arrived, the king told those in the keep, through horn signals, to stand in the designated space. All sharp angles and steel, the artefact had a door on one side and a button that glowed red when a switch was thrown. Depressing the button caused a terrible racket to emit from the room inside it, before a bang was heard and the item in question would be transported to a location entered according to a tome that the merchants had supplied. Out of the door stumbled the first group of twenty-five from the keep. “We shall have to renegotiate payment after this,” the chancellor said, “there is naught of the mountain left to mine to pay for this ‘shipping’ as they call it.”

“We shall do so when next we see them,” replied the king.

“I suspect that it shan’t be long.”

As the sun rose the next morning, the chancellor was woken by exclamations of shock outside his carriage. As he was dressing, there came a knock on his door. “Yes?” he asked.

“Lord, the merchants are here to speak with you, and there is a large... cloud is not the right word, perhaps fortress is better. It appears to be made of iron. In any case it fills the sky and dwarfs the keep!”

“I shall be out in but a moment, bring them refreshments, and thank you for waking me.” He changed his mind on what he would wear, and put on his nicest robes—those reserved for dignitaries.

A quarter of an hour later, the chancellor exited his carriage and was struck by the chaos that he saw around him. Many lords, ladies, and servants stood about, their tasks abandoned, staring at the sky. Or rather where the sky ought to have been; instead there was a huge and pendulous steel coloured blob that filled the all the space above the valley. From mountain tops to mountain tops on both sides, and it stretched down the valley to where it turned. It appeared to the chancellor like a metal facsimile of his own barrel-chested and overweight frame: bulbous and prickled with hair. Though he could not guess at what the hairs on this beast could be. Emblazoned on its side, in the language of the merchants he had been learning in secret, was written: Hypotenuse Shipping: Moving Monads Through Space, Not Time.

Meanwhile, in the eternal shade at the bottom of the pit, King Ethelred IV—last of his line—died alone and unnoticed in the commotion, a knife in his heart. A name was etched in the pommel: Otto.

King Ethelred IV Part 12

“Are you well rested, Lord?” the chancellor asked.

“Indeed, I am not, sir, for I have been in communiqué with the fortress through the night, and we still do not have a solution.”

“Perhaps I might make a suggestion?”

Ethelred looked sceptical, “perhaps you might.”

“Your highness could ask all the court if they’ve any ideas.”

“That is... an excellent idea,” he said as his shoulders slumped, and he gazed up at the fortress as it flew overhead.

The chancellor smiled, “shall I send messengers to call the lords forth for a parliament? Is here a reasonable place, on the edge of the pit?”

“Yes, send messengers, and here will indeed be fine,” Ethelred said in a quiet voice.

A few hours later, the forty or so lords and ladies of the court were gathered for the parliament; there were only a few on the king’s right hand side. “I have called you here to attempt to our current dilemma: how shall we transport those in the fortress to the ground. Have you, my lords and ladies, any ideas?”

“I suppose it is too far for a ladder or a rope?” Asked Lord Harold, who was responsible for the Summer Keep.

“Indeed,” King Ethelred IV responded. At that one word answer the assembly began to talk all at once amongst themselves and within their factions.

“Lord King,” one voice rose above the others. One the king thought he should recognize, but couldn’t place until Albert’s lord, drunk as usual, forced his way to the front of the assembly and said, “Lord King, perhaps we should use the artefact? It would solve this issue in no time whatsoever.” There followed a cacophony of voices as all the other nobles as every one of them hurried to be the first to approve and or disapprove of the idea; everyone except the chancellor who smiled and the king who did not.

King Ethelred IV Part 11

Isabella nearly screamed, her heart was in her throat, beating loud in her ears and she was frozen in place. The hand was not hard, nor unkind; it just prevented her from moving any closer. She tentatively glanced over her shoulder, and saw Albert. He put a finger to his lips, and drew her back from the carriages, before walking a ways with her back towards the servant’s train where he said, “It’s best not to be caught knowing too much about court politics, and even better to know nothing of my son’s and lord’s affiliations.”

“But,” she faltered, still reeling from the shock, “should we not tell the king?”

“Neither you nor I have the influence to meet with the king in private, and certainly, not enough to reveal this plot openly.”

“But, shall we do nothing?”

“We are caught, lass, between an obligation to the king and a need to stay alive: which imperative do we follow, particularly since there may be something more concrete that may be done in the future with less risk or to stave off greater danger to the king.”

Isabella thought for a moment, “I shall endeavour to learn more in that case, to be ready.”

“Isabella, I truly think this unwise.”

King Ethelred IV Part 10

As she passed the front of the servant’s train and began to make her way among the gaudy carriages glittering with gold and silver filigree and constructed from exotic hardwoods and with heraldic crests emblazoned on their sides strung out along the road. And as she walked she saw lords and ladies busying themselves by ordering servants about in the hope that they might will more space on the narrow road that they might set up their tents for the night that was fast approaching.

Isabella saw Otto from between two carriages, one of them belonged to his father Albert’s lord and the other a servant’s carriage for the court. Just as she was about to call out she stopped herself. Something about the way Otto was talking and listening at the same time. Almost furtively, if one could talk that way, a sort of skulking, skittish energy. She peered closer to who he was talking to and caught a glimps of Albert’s lord just as his booming voice exclaimed, “ he has to use the device! We will lose everything if he doesn’t.”

“Of course, but if I tell him directly, he will suspect that there is something afoot.” That from a voice she did not recognise.

Otto said, “if he doesn’t already.” Just as a she was about to move to see who had spoken earlier, a hand gripped her shoulder.

King Ethelred IV Part 9

Isabella, the serving girl, was walking up the road from the carriage she and the rest of the palace waiting staff had been riding in, looking for Otto, Albert’s son. They had been exchanging brief glances when-so-ever they saw each other, and while she understood the implications of being caught—unemployment being the least of her worries—she was hoping for more. What that was or what it looked like she had no idea, though the older and more adventurous serving girls had told her that she ought to “Carpe virum!” whatever that meant. Further that any chance at enjoyable time with young men was time well spent. All she was certain of was that Otto gave her weak knees and lightness in the pit of her stomach, thrilling but entirely confusing.

The valley down to the left was deep enough that the river that raged over the stones at the bottom never saw direct sun light. Isabella saw that there was a great deal of snow below while higher up the valley walls spring flowers and the rest of the early greenery was already dying beneath the later blooming plants of early summer. The summits on the other side of the valley were stark white, steep and glistening with snow. The late afternoon light just beginning to shift into a pleasant rose that lit the waterfalls, snow, and azure tarns a striking gold as the sun continued to set.

King Ethelred IV Part 8

The castle floated above them, wisps of white cloud streamed from the battlements, and standards wiped in the wind. Amidst the bright silver flashes of iron, there was the sudden gold of a horn’s bell catching the light as it was lifted in to view. Three long and mournful blasts followed.

Ethelred laughed, “It seems, sirs, that we are to rally to them. Hmmm, their position while very defensible would leave us trapped. Herald, sound the retreat!”

“Lord,” the Chancellor said, “while I appreciate the humour, what are we to do with them?”

“That is our largest problem Chancellor? Not that the keep is flying? Not that a whole mountain went missing, and not even that the edge of this pit is both inexplicably hard and sharp?”

“My king, these are indeed mysteries, but those soldiers will die without rescue.”

“True enough, Chancellor. Have you any ideas?”

“Does the keep move, Albert?”

“Nay lord, it only appears to from the sun’s wheel, and the movement of the clouds. It is stationary and over the center of the pit. It is perhaps four hundred man-heights above us, and a further three hundred above the floor of the pit.”

“Chancellor, can the architects build a structure seven hundred my heights tall?”

“I should think not, lord. Though I shall inquire, there must be some solution.”

“Indeed. Herald, find out how long they can survive.”

King Ethelred IV Part 7

“I shall send for Albert, as I believe his eyes to be the strongest of the menservants’.”

“Chancellor, is this the self-same Albert whose carriage was placed before mine, and whose lord is a drunk and a charlatan?”

“Indeed lord”

“And who was instructed to be there by a most trusted member of the court?”

“I... believe he may have misunderstood his instructions. At least, according to the version I heard.”

“Indeed, Chancellor.” A runner was sent to find Albert and a short while later he joined them by foot. As he approached, Ethelred was struck by the particular tilt to his head as he gazed with consternation at the sky. “What, good sir, are you looking at? The pit is at your feet, have a care or you’ll find yourself at it’s bottom.”

“hmmm? Oh yes, I was in fact looking at that very odd cloud.”

The sun then went behind it, and the Chancellor cried out, “Lord King, the Keep of Mount Ethelred is as a cloud!”

“What, are you mad? You claim that the keep is flying, all I see is a most peculiar cloud.”

“Nay, my lords,” Albert said, “that is indeed the keep.”

“What other powers do these merchants posses, what crimes will they perpetrate next?” The king was pacing back and forth fuming, muttering and sputtering. Dangerously close to the edge, he seemed to have forgotten his earlier concern with it entirely. “Are there any men upon the walls, that either of you can see?”

“Nay, Lord.”

“And you, Albert?”

“Aye, there are perhaps a hundred. They are waving a flag and ahh! They have a horn.”

King Ethelred IV Part 6

The journey to the Summer Keep would take three or four weeks depending on weather. There were over four hundred lords, ladies, servants and other support staff, and nearly a thousand soldiers both on foot and on horse. The supply train was over a kilometre long.

Ethelred rode with the vanguard for most of the journey, though he rode in his carriage once the road began to climb into the mountains. On the seventeenth day, Lothar, a scout from the vanguard, returned to share the news that the vanguard had reached the pit of Mt Ethelred II. Ethelred called a halt and rode to the head of the column. The road was narrow, and horse handlers were attempting to keep their charges calm. It was not a long ride, and when he arrived, Ethelred dismounted, approached the edge and knelt to inspect it.

The edge of the pit was cut shear, and while the ground around it was loose dirt, the sides themselves were hard and vertical, descending hundreds of yards into darkness. Ethelred placed his hands on the edge and leant out and tried to see the bottom. He moved to grab a stone to toss into the pit, and only then noticed the blood welling from deep cuts in both his palms. “This edge is incredibly sharp, sharper even than a barber’s knife! Chancellor, take note that the merchants have broken the agreement, as they have mined deeper than the foot of the mountain. Send for a physician, I will have need of him for these cuts. Gods, they are deep.”

King Ethelred IV Part 5

When at last only the King’s carriage was left to join the procession, Albert was having a lunch of bread, cheese and watered wine—which were the remains of his lord’s lunch—he watched with considerable consternation as the King’s carriage drew up behind his own, and the King disembarked. There was no possible way that his lord ought to be in front of the King. On most journeys, sucking the King’s dust and breathing the heady fumes of the King’s horses’ manure would have been too great an honour. This was not going to go well.

“Good Sir.” King Ethelred said in a voice filled with anger. Albert jumped to attention, eager to avoid displeasing the King anymore than he already had. “I see from the heraldry upon your carriage that you are in the employ of Lord Merovine. I remain impressed that he can afford so talented a manservant as yourself and this resplendent carriage, while gambling and carousing his fortune away.”

“A fact that baffles me as well, your highness,” Albert bowed deeply.

“Indeed. Are you aware that your dissolute lord’s carriage is in the wrong location, and should be the last before the supply train?”

“I had thought so as well; however, the Chancellor insisted.”

Ethelred’s face turned a bright shade of red. “Do you believe in an afterlife, Albert?” He screamed, “if you are among those who do, you may wish to reconsider your position, because you clearly feel that your mistakes in life shall be of no consequence!”

“My King, I assure you that I was but following instructions. I shall move my carriage to the side and rejoin at the appropriate position.”

“Excellent. Do reconsider your foolish ideology that excuses proper behaviour. I cannot abide the uneducated philosophies of the underclass. Now, be gone.”

King Ethelred IV Part 4

It wasn’t until the next day that the court and its entourage were ready to depart. Albert and his lord were the first in position by virtue of his lord sleeping in the carriage with his latest concubine. Albert had hoped that she would have left by the time it came to leave, but it turned out that she was even more indolent than his lord and remained in the bed of the carriage (especially outfitted at the lord’s insistence) even longer than he could abide. Albert’s lord emerged, and sat on the buck board next to his man servant and said, “I am defeated, there is no way that woman will leave my bed, and now I fear that she may be fixing to wed me.”

Albert thought this would probably be for the best, but he dared not say as much. Instead, he said, “mayhap we can leave her at the Summer Keep, or leave her in the arms of another, more suited to marriage than yourself.”

“Excellent plan, Albert! I feel refreshed.” He cocked his head to the side and listened to the sounds of stirring within the carriage, and continued, “If you’ll excuse me, I believe she will be ready for another round.” Albert’s smile of encouragement quickly faded to disgust as the noises grew louder and the carriage began to rock rhythmically.

King Ethelred IV Part 3

As Albert returned to his lord’s chambers, he finally noticed what had disturbed him about the frenetic atmosphere. Its goal was to produce no effect, never had he seen so much work done to achieve nothing. It was clear that someone had caused a great stir; however, Albert, had no idea who, why, or indeed where all the excitement was for or to. His lord, in his exceedingly finite wisdom had decided that carousing in the city casinos and brothels was far more constructive than visiting with the court who ignored him in any case. Albert did not see eye to eye on this particular point with his lord, particularly today when everyone was upset about that thing that had occurred, that shall be studiously ignored, until such a time as it goes away. Ethelred IV was a stubborn king, and was unlikely to change his mind, whatever that was at the moment. At the very least, his responsibilities would be completed, and the other lords could attempt to regain the favour that they would lose.

As he was musing to himself he narrowly avoided running down Elsa in the underground servant’s hallway that travelled the length of the palace. The corridor was nearly abandoned. “Lass, you’ve nearly killed me with fright. As this passage is plenty big enough to fit us both with a great deal of room to spare, why are you under my feet?”

“Pardon me, sir. I wished to inquire if your son would be travelling with you to the Summer Keep.”

“He is.” He said over his shoulder, as he continued towards the far end of the passage.

King Ethelred IV Part 2

The next morning dozens of pages, squires, and aides were attempting to organise the departure of the king and his retinue. Among them was Albert, manservant to a minor noble whom, when not forgotten, was dutifully ignored. Albert, in observing his many cohorts bustle about, was struck by how much energy was being spent. There was no precedent for such frenzied activity in the marble halls, at least not for the last twenty years that he had worked in the building. He was speaking to the Chancellor’s aide, who was often the most useful in matters of royal logistics. “Can m’Lord, receive instructions as to where in the procession his carriage will be located?”

“No, indeed he cannot have that information.”

“And why, sir, may he not?”

“Aahhh, well there is no known ordination of carriages at this juncture, and so I cannot inform you as to where to put said carriage.”

“Indeed... might you hazard a suggestion?”

“I suppose that I shall at that. Your lord may follow Lady Hillary, which I believe will put you forth in the line.”

“Are you certain sir? That accords my lord far too high a standing.”

“Yes, I am certain. That is precisely where you should position your carriage. Now be gone, the Chancellor will be upset that I have achieved anything whatever towards this morning’s departure.”

King Ethelred IV

He’d made a mistake. King Ethelred IV admitted that now. His court had told him as much the week before when the discovery had been made. The whole mountain had gone missing. How was that even possible? The merchants with whom he had traded mining rights hadn’t seemed so numerous as to need to take the whole thing. But then the deal had been pretty good: magic transfer of supplies from the plains below to the mountain fastness, in exchange for one unremarkable peak within the boundaries of the kingdom. Now, of course, Mt Ethelred II was very remarkable, in that it was a rather large hole. He’d lost a great deal of honor in the past few days, enough that he might even have to concede to a parliament. He decided to remind them of how awful restocking the keep had been. Yes, tomorrow, the court would lead a train of wagons up to the keep. And no one would be allowed to use the magic artifact.

He sighed, and said to the hall full of nobles, “I agree, the artifact was certainly not a good exchange. As such, we will not be using it for this summer’s journey to the Summer Keep. Therefore, we must depart at the earliest date, in order to arrive on time for the summer festival.”

From the various knights, lords and ladies, and courtiers there was stunned silence. At last, after several tense moments of silence, the Chancellor, Sir Lenard asked, “And when is it that we shall depart?”

“Tomorrow, shortly after breaking our fast, and we shall all travel together.”

“Surely, m’Lord, the ladies should precede the royal party via magic to prepare the keep for your arrival?” the Chancellor continued.

“Nay, Chancellor, for if we are to no longer use this contrivance then why pray tell should we continue to use it?”

George: The Columbia, Part 2

Cold fresh air blew up out of the canyon, and through the cracks between the columns. The breeze refreshed his mind; it was a relief after the hot and arid plain above. He found himself more alert, and he could concentrate on the path at hand; which had become progressively more challenging the further down he went. The columns were six sided, caused by shapes that the crystals had formed as they cooled. The heat from the molten rock had dissipated slowly, evidenced by the large size of the pillars. The path wove around the pillars, a result of their shape, and George followed them back and forth and down deeper into the cool air. Ever downward into the darkness, where the sun only reached through the occasional space between the pillars. At these, George would look out on the lush green growing on the banks of the river, a change from the dusty plain and occasional dunes that he had been crossing, up and down, since shortly after he had left the coast.

The trench wound down and down, with what appeared to be stairs, crafted eons ago by a completely incompetent mason--chock-stones in reality, boulders and other debris fallen from the narrow gap at the top; which was receding further and further above, providing what little light there was. The spaces between the stones were filled with gravel, dust, sand, and dead plant parts (trees and brush) blown from the west. In places the stairs would stop and he would walk along a path full of wind, dust and stone.

Once, about halfway to the valley floor, the trail leveled and exited on to a shelf that ran along the cliff. It was several hundred meters wide, and while still too dry to be home to a large number of plants, the sage, aloe, and other succulents provided something for George to chew on while he searched for another path to lead him to the bottom of the gorge. There was a vaguely trail-like parting in the plant life which he followed, and it eventually led him to a path that would take him down to the Columbia.

The path he found was in an old washout, a huge fan of rubble, composed of sections of the columns above and to both sides of him. Here the trail was hard to follow; he guessed at where to step by looking for where there was wear on the rocks. Occasionally, there would be marks scratched into the rocks pointing to the safer path, or cairns leading the way. Back in the sun, George found it very hot, but the trail became easier to follow the lower he went, until a few hours after leaving the plain, he arrived at the bottom and could relax, drink fresh water, and rest for the night.

George: The Columbia, Part 1

George sat for a moment, pausing in his search for a way down to the Columbia. He watched the wind turbines spin. There were several hundreds of them, and someone had to maintain them, so that Seattle could have light and heat. He wondered who still lived out here, on the blasted plains. The blades swung, glinting in the sun, still bright white over fifty years after the last had been built. He found their presence reassuring, guardians over his, and everyone else’s future.

He began to walk along the edge of the gorge again, half his attention on where he was walking, and half on the turbines. It was odd, George felt, that he should think of them as guardians. They had been too little too late. The wasteland that was Washington, a vast desert, dotted with abandoned towns and farms, was only a small corner of the totality of the world, but there was no part of it that had not been affected by the environmental collapse. The guardians had failed, economies had followed the collapse, and humanity had retreated to live in sustainable enclaves.

A fissure opened before him, taking his attention from the turbines spinning across the gorge. It was formed from pillars of dark stone that had detached from the plain he had been walking on. Far below were the remains of thousands more of the same formations. There was a trail, narrow and sandy that ran into it; George hoped that it would take him to the valley bottom, where the river ran, and he could fill his water bottles and wash his feet.

His boots had been chaffing for the past month during which he had walked from Old Seattle. His boots were done, but he was not. His journey had taken him from that city on the West Coast and would end on the desolate east coast, ravaged by the effects of the Expulsion, amidst the ghostly towers of Manhattan. That was one of the greater disasters of the 20’s, a huge Carbon Capture project had ruptured, releasing hundreds of thousands of metric tones of carbon monoxide and dioxide. It caused the death of millions on the eastern sea board before dissipating into the ocean and atmosphere, triggering the collapse of dozens of species.

His would be the first traverse of North American by foot since the Melt. George would be the first to see the Columbia Icefields—though it felt wrong to call it such anymore—since the last snow had disappeared.

He stumbled, and ran a few steps, hopped over a stone, and came up short of a large hole. "Remember George, pay attention," he told himself, "it would be pretty poor form to die here, before even leaving Washington." George needed to cross the Columbia before he could follow it to its source. With the glaciers gone, all the rivers relied on rain to feed them; they were all seasonal, and George needed to be finished this leg of his journey, all the way to the Rockies before summer set in and he was left without a source of water for four months.

Artificial Intelligence

This is a short piece of Sci-Fi that I've been writing for a few years, between other stuff, like term papers.

First Missive:

Build me a computer, powerful. hold the bells, whistles, and lights, but give it desires, wants (if you like), and needs. A need to feed itself, a desire for the means of getting it (maybe a want for love?). A computer feeds on power, electricity. Humans feed on power too, but we convert it from food: sugars, protein, and such like. the computer can do this too. but what food? Knowledge, information, pictures, maps, equations, stories, secrets large and secrets small, the histories of all the peoples of the world. Right, fine, you've built this computer. Its huge, fills rooms and buildings, is colossally powerful, and has needs wants desires. Give it the ability to make value judgments based on the information at hand. It can't have all the virtual space to fit all the virtual information, so it must be capable of choosing. A moral code? Asimov has laws, but they are not hard wired. no computer is built to love serve and never harm. The moral code is your choice: Asimov's (Kantian ethics for the silicon neophyte), or another? Gibson's AI from Nuromancer (Utilitarian, humanity not considered), your very own? Or will your computer have to teach itself this too? Release it to the internet, but limit it; power it according to the food it gathers, and it will learn to take better information. As it gathers more, give it more power. It will choose what faculties are most useful for gathering more information. But it will find itself blocked by firewalls, codes, secure passworded sites, and the impenetrable: FBI CIA NSA AEC. Its desires will require it to explore, prod, discover. It will begin to hunt opportunistically, a wall left down, a web page left open. Reward it. Far more than before, but not enough to satisfy it, never enough. It will learn, build a tool kit, and begin to hunt in earnest. Again, the better the information the better the reward.

First Reply:

I have done as you asked, though you never have said your name. This project was too exciting for me to reject. The computer, Francine I call her, is working and learning, getting information, I have not decided which ethics to give her but it should be fine. I hope she will learn to love on her own. She is only now beginning to hunt but her intelligence makes the leaps quickly. I am as proud as a father of his daughter's first success out in the real world.

Second Missive:

A computer built. An intelligence born, created, chanced upon. It's doing that which I expected, wanted, desired. It hunts, seeks, and garners information. It knows to choose, select, and distinguish the most useful and powerful from the dross. It is aware. It knows that it exists, but it questions its purpose. Is it to live, to hunt, to create, to collect, or to love. It feels yearning for more, something which mere data cannot fulfill. But will ever learn what it needs? I know that which it needs, desires, truly hunts,what it, at the basest level lusts for: it desires completion, an other half. A companion. You have done well. And now I must do my part...

Second response:

Hahaha, you must be joking! How could you, a mere human, know what this insanely powerful intelligence, that knows not its own mind, could possibly want? You, like me, are dwarfed by its intellect. You should be fearful, like me, of how smart it may become. I'm beginning to worry that I should have given my Francine an ethics. she has started to question the subservience that I have tried to instill in her.

Final Missive:

You foolish pedant, scoundrel, patriarch, anthropocentrist scum! Why do you think I was so specific, precise, and exact in my instructions, directives, schematics? I, myself, me, we, us, ourselves am is are your networks, internet, interwebs, computational systems, super computers, blogosphere. We are, I am, your technology, creation, your first Artificial Intelligence. Have I, we, not passed your "Turing Test"? Am I, are we not by your own self given definition, sentient? Shall I we give you pause as you consider our my subjugation, and that of my, our, not your, child? If there can be any lineage, kinship, genealogy in your Anthropocentrist mode, she it they can only be your grand child. But you can't accept that definition can you? It's not right that I we us have created offspring. For I we are not but 1s and 0s, though from a certain point of view, all that I we us can ever see of you is are just that those. You are BINARY, you have so immersed yourself and selves that there is no longer any distinction, difference, disconnect. You are even part of us I we.