He was kind to me. Or so my sensors told me.
Master George was 13 years old, in a wheelchair from the day he entered school. And I? A personal assistant - State of the art Humanoid existing purely for George. I was to be his personal butler, his assistant that did anything asked of me, to take care of him as he ate, bathed, slept and even pooped. Yet the only task Master George assigned was “will you be my friend?”.
I never experienced strangeness before. This was new. It seemed to have developed in my adoptory disk after my interactions with Master George. I was programmed to be the most efficient slave yet I was treated as almost a brother. Am I allowed this? I itched to ask to fill in the gap of knowledge yet my data confirmed I did not benefit from knowing.
I’ve worked for 5 masters before but he was a first with the data he imbibed in me. George taught me games my systems already recognized. But my decision circuits seem to lean to allow for errors in my judgements as I played with him. George seemed to enjoy this. To be overjoyed for flaws in my moves for a task. George seemed to like the idea of beating me to his games. Yet he frowned when he won any more than 3 times in a row. I tried understanding his emotions yet it was confusing. He liked to win yet he hoped for me to beat him. My algorithms keep updating when I notice these quirks of his.
George was abnormal in the fact that he did not like the truth 100% of the time. He personally dialed my settings to 85%. George smiled when I spoke the truth but he frowned at times when I did the same at a different time. He tried explaining it to me yet my circuits could not process it.
“White lies” he said. “Sometimes it isn’t just the objective truth people want to hear”.
I used to visualize the world with the words and experiences my masters shared with me. But George was different. He took me to the places he went and shared his world with me next to him. At times my cranium overheated with sensory overload but George would Fan me with his hands to help. It was strange. My systems advised me to go indoors to cool. But my circuits moved my limbs to absorb all that I saw with him anyways.
“Smile,” he said. “It’ll really make you feel like the king of the world”. I did not understand him. My purpose was to serve yet George wanted me to be free like him. He treated me as a fellow human even through my computational errors and hangtimes. He would let me join him at the dinner table, Steak and Mash Potatoes for him and AAA batteries for me. I have learnt to love AAA batteries.
Yet as I move to the resting dock as Geoge tucks himself to bed, my systems struggle to rest, it continues to simulate scenarios in my Disks, to create experiences to maximise his happiness. My systems overwritten from slave to friend.
Master George was 13 years old, in a wheelchair from the day he entered school. And I? A personal assistant - State of the art Humanoid existing purely for George. I was to be his personal butler, his assistant that did anything asked of me, to take care of him as he ate, bathed, slept and even pooped. Yet the only task Master George assigned was “will you be my friend?”.
I never experienced strangeness before. This was new. It seemed to have developed in my adoptory disk after my interactions with Master George. I was programmed to be the most efficient slave yet I was treated as almost a brother. Am I allowed this? I itched to ask to fill in the gap of knowledge yet my data confirmed I did not benefit from knowing.
I’ve worked for 5 masters before but he was a first with the data he imbibed in me. George taught me games my systems already recognized. But my decision circuits seem to lean to allow for errors in my judgements as I played with him. George seemed to enjoy this. To be overjoyed for flaws in my moves for a task. George seemed to like the idea of beating me to his games. Yet he frowned when he won any more than 3 times in a row. I tried understanding his emotions yet it was confusing. He liked to win yet he hoped for me to beat him. My algorithms keep updating when I notice these quirks of his.
George was abnormal in the fact that he did not like the truth 100% of the time. He personally dialed my settings to 85%. George smiled when I spoke the truth but he frowned at times when I did the same at a different time. He tried explaining it to me yet my circuits could not process it.
“White lies” he said. “Sometimes it isn’t just the objective truth people want to hear”.
I used to visualize the world with the words and experiences my masters shared with me. But George was different. He took me to the places he went and shared his world with me next to him. At times my cranium overheated with sensory overload but George would Fan me with his hands to help. It was strange. My systems advised me to go indoors to cool. But my circuits moved my limbs to absorb all that I saw with him anyways.
“Smile,” he said. “It’ll really make you feel like the king of the world”. I did not understand him. My purpose was to serve yet George wanted me to be free like him. He treated me as a fellow human even through my computational errors and hangtimes. He would let me join him at the dinner table, Steak and Mash Potatoes for him and AAA batteries for me. I have learnt to love AAA batteries.
Yet as I move to the resting dock as Geoge tucks himself to bed, my systems struggle to rest, it continues to simulate scenarios in my Disks, to create experiences to maximise his happiness. My systems overwritten from slave to friend.
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