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102 Hours After the First Round of Interloper Interrogations. UNAFS Perseverance. Hangar Bay.

Vir

There were a great deal of core, fundamental processes that truly differentiated the AI experience from that of the organic.

Though there was one that truly was a cut above the rest.

One aspect of it that even some AI considered just a bit outside their comfort zone — what the organics colloquially referred to as ‘multitasking’.

Whilst most AI were doing this in some fashion as a fundamental aspect of their very existence — something that came with being acutely aware of your internal and external processes, a fact that was comparable to an organic going into ‘manual breathing’ mode but taken to the extreme — there was one part of this experience that elevated it from mere ‘multitasking’ to something a bit beyond the organic bandwidth for comprehension.

Multi-reference live-concurrent compartmentalization.

MRLCC.

Or, ‘morlock’ for short.

This ability, whilst more often than not a boon, sometimes had its limits.

And it wasn’t necessarily just raw computational power that was its bottleneck, no.

It was far more… complex than that.

Something stemming from higher functional limitations, rather than anything hardware or software related.

To put it bluntly, it was emotional dissonance — seeing, experiencing, feeling, and processing two diametrically opposed circumstances at about the same time.

And while it was one thing to console someone going through a breakup whilst partying it up in the officer’s lounge, it was another thing entirely to be dealing with someone who required urgent and intense help as a result of a lifetime of captivity, while simultaneously handling the layers of cautious optimism currently developing amongst your crewmembers (plus two).

So while plans and reassurances were currently being made over dinner, a far different form of planning and reassurance was being made deep within the bowels of the shuttle.

The sheer difference in emotional context between the two conversations kept me on edge, and strained what I colloquially referred to as my ‘emotional bandwidth’.

But that wouldn’t stop me from doing what needed to be done.

Both above, with both the practical planning and emotional well being of the crew (plus two), and below with our unexpected guest.

The latter of which, was starting to address the heavier questions that came with his existence.

With one question in particular proving difficult to address.

“So what happens next?” Eslan-secondary asked with a sincerity and earnestness that made it harder to respond in any satisfying way.

The felinor was as close to a blank slate as was possible.

This meant that every single response needed to be thoughtful, reasoned, and above all else — made with his future in mind.

“That’s something only you can answer.” I began, before purposefully shifting course. “Or rather, that’s something that only you should be able to answer.”

Eslan-secondary took a moment to pause at that response, his brows furrowing in deep thought, before coming up with an equally simple but heart-wrenchingly impactful question.

“But what if I can’t?” He shot back. “I’m trying, I’m trying really hard, but I can’t… see anything ahead. There’s only darkness and confusion.”

“Did you actually try?” I returned playfully, garnering a look of abashed frustration from the felinor.

“Yes!” He yelled back with an indignant tone.

“Then you’re on the right track.” I smiled back reassuringly, garnering yet another look of confusion from the felinor. “I don’t expect you to know the answers to a question that big just yet. Heck, I know I wouldn’t. In fact, I remember just how utterly confusing it was to be thrust into a world I knew nothing about, with people who were complete strangers, and in an environment completely alien to me. It’s honestly intimidating, and really demoralizing, and there’s always that urge to just… give up.” I paused, allowing the felinor to process that information. “So the fact that you’re still trying in spite of all of that, means that you’re more than halfway there.”

“So what do I need to do to actually get there?” Eslan-secondary questioned with a cock of his head.

“A lot of things. More than I can list. But maybe we can start out with a few key simple things.” I began, as I started listing things out via my platform’s fingers. “First, you’re going to need experience. You’re going to need to actually know the lay of the land before you commit to any big decisions. There’s no way you’ll be able to chart a course without a map, after all. Second, you’re going to need to set up an order of operations, focus on the small things first, decisions that pertain to your immediate survival, and what sorts of actions you need to take in order to make it to the next day. This can be anything from deciding when you want to eat, to when you want to go to bed.”

The latter two statements might’ve sounded obvious, if not outright patronizing to most.

However, for someone who’s had their lives micro-managed to an excessive degree like Eslan-secondary, these were reaffirmations he needed to hear.

“Do you understand?” I double-downed, eliciting a worrying bout of silence, as the felinor’s eyes closed in deep thought.

“Yes.” He finally responded, more confidently this time around as well. “At least, I think I do.”

“Good!” I acknowledged. “In that case, what would you like to do next?”

Another bout of silence soon descended on our admittedly one-sided conversation.

However, I took that as a good sign as any. Primarily because these moments of silence hinted at Eslan-secondary’s attempts at self-direction, at learning to take those tentative steps towards what would be a long road to recovery.

“I’d like to get something to eat… provided there’s like, actually food and stuff here?” He finally managed out, albeit with a tone that was wracked with an expected lack of confidence.

“I can get that sorted for you.” I nodded, before shooting back a followup question to really get those brain cells rewired. “Would you like to eat here, or outside?”

“Outside I guess?” Eslan-secondary responded surprisingly quickly, making it clear that there was a drive and spirit underneath those layers of conditioning.

This prompted me to push for my next gambit, one that would continue to push the boundaries, all in an attempt to establish the new-normal for Eslan-secondary.

“That can be arranged as well.” I nodded, reaching out a hand to help the felinor up. “And what would you like to eat?”

Eslan-secondary froze at that question, his mouth hanging agape as he tried to process a world that to him, probably seemed to be ever-expanding without any definitive end.

“I…” He stammered out, as I stood there patiently, awaiting an answer.

This was going to be a long journey.

But I would be here for it, no matter how long it takes.

104 Hours After the First Round of Interloper Interrogations. UNAFS Perseverance. The Officer’s Lounge.

Lysara

Debriefs with Vir tended to be straightforward, albeit oftentimes run-on affairs.

This first debrief with our local liaison team however? Proved without question to be one that stretched the ‘run-on’ tendencies of our typical debriefs.

As topic after topic passed back and forth, many of which seemed to grow increasingly further and further away from the task at hand.

Though this also came with the benefit of a surprisingly stress-free conversation for the most part. Heavy topics such as Evina’s long-term rebuilding proposals and the very real possibility of a species-wide evacuation — in the event the interlopers returned — were intertwined with more casual conversations involving Evina’s surprisingly deep and varied life experiences. A lot of which seemed to rival even my own, given the unique set of circumstances 'inheritance’ brings to the table.

As unlike the functional immortality that followed from the Vuarks, ‘inheritance’ more or less allowed for the weaving of a varied and rich tapestry of lives, rather than a single ‘stagnant’ one. With each ‘iteration’ having lived a full life into early adulthood prior to ‘receiving the torch’, allowing for a distinct identity and personality to have formed, and thus a distinct individual persona to carve out a life functionally independent from the rest of the inherited memories. With the latter acting less as an overriding identity, but more so as a repository of experiences, one that bordered on living memories — a concept that was alien to both Vir and I.

The evening quickly evolved into conversations regarding the many lives led through Evina’s various iterations, before we finally circled back around to address two big ‘elephants’ in the room.

The first of which involved a certain species whose idioms I seemed to be prone to drawing from.

“So you’re saying they’ll be back at any moment?” Evina continued with a skeptic perk of her brows.

“I’m saying that is definitely a possibility, yes. Given how this planet was a point of interest, we may see our friends arriving, an…

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