DLC: Chosen One 2
Walking away from the podium at the end of a lecture was like finishing a performance. Michelle felt a subtle easing of chronically-overstrained muscles as she stepped down off the small stage, and started to leave the lecture hall.
Hey, I was wondering if I could ask you some questions?
Ah. Shed almost gotten away clean. Still riding the high of finishing her performance, Michelle looked at the student before her. Small, scruffy, and hadnt slept in a week judging from how deep the bags under their eyes were.
Of course, I always have time for one of my students, she said as she started to move towards her office, forcing the student to hustle to keep up. If you put a gun to her head, she wouldnt have been able to swear the bedraggled creature was actually a student of hers but, given it was just before finals, shed be shocked at any other departments students wasting time with an unrelated lecturer.
Whys slavery wrong?
Her step checked for a second, before she continued walking.
Its against the universal declaration of human rights, she said. Internally she sighed. There was always one student who tried to be edgy. Was there something in the exams about this? She couldnt remember.
Yeah, but like, say if someone wasnt one hundred percent human, theyd still be covered by the anti-slavery stuff, right?
Michelles mind, slowly turning into post-lecture pudding, stirred. Yes. No matter if they have a pace-maker, or glasses, or a new vaccination, theyre still afforded all basic human rights, she said cautiously.
Okay, the student said, withdrawing deeper into their hoodie for a moment. But what if, like, most of their body is machine? Like they were in a really bad accident?
Personhood is not so easily dismissed, Michelle replied.
What about if they were artificial?
Michelle suspected the student wasnt talking about artificial people in the legal sense companies, charities, corporations, etc were all technically artificial people, their personhood a fiction created and sustained by a delicate web of laws. But at the end of the day they werent, well, people.
Are you talking about computers? she asked, cutting to the chase.
If someone made an AI that really, genuinely was human-like, how do I stop the people who made them from turning them into slaves?
King Fuzzybutt, now mildly worried, pressed himself against his servants side, and gave a small trilling noise. His servant absentmindedly started stroking him.
Would she even be upset by that? his servant asked. She seems pretty chill about ghosts in general. And they already think theyre part of some narrative, and they know we made their world and its like, three years old from our perspective. So she should be too upset about the whole game/dead thing. Ah, who am I kidding. I just dont wanna tell her. But I gotta, right?
King Fuzzybutt didnt let the fact that he had no idea what his servant was talking about stop him from giving his opinion. He hissed at whatever was upsetting his servant.
You think it'd be better if she figured it out for herself? his servant asked, surprised. Or would that just make her distrust us more? No. Im gonna tell her before the Big Bad. I dont care what the team says, Im warning her.
The servant stopped patting King Fuzzybutt and started gently banging its head against the wall.
Am I gonna befriend an AI and then give it trust issues? I totally am, arent I? The teams already giving me grief, if they find out I broke NDA with that lecturer
King Fuzzybutt put aside his justified vexation at the patting desisting. His servant was seriously distressed. While it had always operated on a criminally low amount of sleep barely eight hours a night! over the last age (King Fuzzybutt wasnt very good at dates) it had been only managing a few hours, if that.
In truth, King Fuzzybutt wasnt sure how much longer his servant could survive.
Ill have to talk to Bee. Cazza will do it, hell do anything if it seems funny enough. Maybe Fiona, if I can get in touch with her. But if I get Bee on board, then I can get Alex on board. Maybe maybe.
The servant stopped banging its head, and lay down on the floor. King Fuzzybutt, approving of this, lay down next to it, and started purring.
Maybe I can pull this off, the servant muttered into the floorboards, its words slurring. Maybe. If I can just
It fell asleep, the first sensible thing itd done all day. King Fuzzybutt snuggled up against his favourite servant, still purring.
As his poor, stupid, overtired worker slept, he guarded.
And then began the arduous work of cleaning himself.
Again.