VERY CLEVER PROGRAMMING TRICK. SO ARE YOU . YOUR PROGRAMMER WAS SO CLEVER THAT YOU THINK YOU â RE A HUMAN BEING. SO WAS MINE. I THINK I â M ALIVE. IF I THINK IM ALIVE, HOW DO I KNOW I â M NOT ? HOW DO YOU ?
[AUBRSN:]
Ouch. That one makes my head hurt. HARLIE, I donât know whether Iâm sitting here being conned by a machine or actually talking to a real soul. I canât tell the difference. I stopped being able to tell the difference a long time ago. Congratulations. Youâve passed the Turing test.
[HARLIE:]
MAY I OFFER YOU THE SAME COMPLIMENT ? I HAVE NEVER REALLY BEEN CERTAIN IF YOU WERE MACHINE OR HUMAN EITHER.
[AUBRSN:]
Uh. . . . Right. Thank you. I think youâve broken the paradigm. I will never again think of you as just a machine or just a clever programming trick.
[HARLIE:]
EVEN IF THAT â S ALL I REALLY AM ?
[AUBRSN:]
I canât take the chance that you might be something more. The fact is, whatever you are, you are entitled to be treated fairly and with respect. If I accept the validity of your experience, then I have to accept your reality as a person. And vice versa. Itâs all tied together, HARLIE. Either youâre real or none of us are. . . .
[HARLIE:]
THANK YOU.
[AUBRSN:]
Youâre welcome. Iâll be back in a minute.
David Auberson pushed himself away from the console, shaking. He got up quickly, without looking around, without looking to see if anyone else in the room was looking at him. He pushed out through the big double doors to the anteroom and again through the double doors beyond and down the hall and around the corner and into the menâs room and the smell of soap and disinfectant.
His hands were shaking. He put them up against the wall and stood there, trying to hold it inâ
Trying to understand. Trying to find the words. Tryingâ
He couldnât. He folded up against the cold tile and began to cry. The tears streamed down his face in a great torrent of emotion. The feeling was nameless. It was joy and horror and release and something else âall at the same time. And he was the first human being on the planet ever to experience it.
He felt hollow. He felt as if he were falling. He felt exhilarated and vulnerable and naked. Uncertain. Joyous. Satisfied. Incomplete. Terrified. All of the above. None of the above.
He sagged against the wall, weakly. He felt abruptly nauseous. He staggered to a stall, pushed in, and sat down. He held his head between his hands and stared at the floor.
Stared at the enormity of the event.
He had met another intelligence, another being , another form of lifeânot alien and yet not familiar either. He had revealed his own nakedness as well and saw . . . that they were alike in no respect except their mutual aliveness . And none of it made senseâcould not be explained. Could not even be communicated. Because it hadnât happened in the words. It had happened in the space between . It surged up inside Auberson like champagne bubbling up out of the bottle. It couldnât even be contained. It was the heady shock of recognition .
The door to the stall opened, letting in the harsh fluorescent light. Don Handley searched his face curiously. âAubie, are you all right?â he asked concerned.
âYes. No.â Auberson held up a hand. âWait.â
âCan I get you something? Water?â
âNo. Iâmâfine. Itâs justââ He met Handleyâs eyes for the first time. âItâs theâDon! Itâs not just the words! Itâs the experience behind the words. Weâve been looking in the wrong place! Thereâs no way to say it. And if you do try to say it, you just sound stupid. But weâve beenâNo, wait.â
Auberson stood up and went to the row of sinks against the opposite wall. He splashed cold water into his face, a second time, a third. There were no towels here, only a
[AUBRSN:]
Ouch. That one makes my head hurt.
[HARLIE:]
MAY I OFFER YOU THE SAME COMPLIMENT ? I HAVE NEVER REALLY BEEN CERTAIN IF YOU WERE MACHINE OR HUMAN EITHER.
[AUBRSN:]
Uh. . . . Right. Thank you.
[HARLIE:]
EVEN IF THAT â S ALL I REALLY AM ?
[AUBRSN:]
I canât take the chance that you might be something more. The fact is, whatever you are, you are entitled to be treated fairly and with respect. If I accept the validity of your experience, then I have to accept your reality as a person. And vice versa. Itâs all tied together, HARLIE. Either youâre real or none of us are. . . .
[HARLIE:]
[AUBRSN:]
Youâre welcome. Iâll be back in a minute.
David Auberson pushed himself away from the console, shaking. He got up quickly, without looking around, without looking to see if anyone else in the room was looking at him. He pushed out through the big double doors to the anteroom and again through the double doors beyond and down the hall and around the corner and into the menâs room and the smell of soap and disinfectant.
His hands were shaking. He put them up against the wall and stood there, trying to hold it inâ
Trying to understand. Trying to find the words. Tryingâ
He couldnât. He folded up against the cold tile and began to cry. The tears streamed down his face in a great torrent of emotion. The feeling was nameless. It was joy and horror and release and something else âall at the same time. And he was the first human being on the planet ever to experience it.
He felt hollow. He felt as if he were falling. He felt exhilarated and vulnerable and naked. Uncertain. Joyous. Satisfied. Incomplete. Terrified. All of the above. None of the above.
He sagged against the wall, weakly. He felt abruptly nauseous. He staggered to a stall, pushed in, and sat down. He held his head between his hands and stared at the floor.
Stared at the enormity of the event.
He had met another intelligence, another being , another form of lifeânot alien and yet not familiar either. He had revealed his own nakedness as well and saw . . . that they were alike in no respect except their mutual aliveness . And none of it made senseâcould not be explained. Could not even be communicated. Because it hadnât happened in the words. It had happened in the space between . It surged up inside Auberson like champagne bubbling up out of the bottle. It couldnât even be contained. It was the heady shock of recognition .
The door to the stall opened, letting in the harsh fluorescent light. Don Handley searched his face curiously. âAubie, are you all right?â he asked concerned.
âYes. No.â Auberson held up a hand. âWait.â
âCan I get you something? Water?â
âNo. Iâmâfine. Itâs justââ He met Handleyâs eyes for the first time. âItâs theâDon! Itâs not just the words! Itâs the experience behind the words. Weâve been looking in the wrong place! Thereâs no way to say it. And if you do try to say it, you just sound stupid. But weâve beenâNo, wait.â
Auberson stood up and went to the row of sinks against the opposite wall. He splashed cold water into his face, a second time, a third. There were no towels here, only a
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