Work-in-progress: If you Never Create, the Question Won’t Matter

“Did you ask him?”

“Yes, standard protocol was followed.”

“Did you scan his mortality card?”

“Yes, ma’am. I have routed his feed through the reclamation system and placed a carbon print in the vault.”

“How many years?”


I want to live. Can they hear me? “I want to live.”

“Yes, sir, you have sustained damage to your sympathy reader which triggered automatic de-animation, but we have restored it and you are ready to depart after a few routine data inquires.”

“You haven’t read my bio?”

“Well, yes, but your mortality card does not have the proper restoration format and we require that you complete the form before your departure.”

“Same data, different format.”


I didn’t format last year, but I have no choice now. If I don’t update, I can’t run my feed. I don’t understand why we allow ourselves a false evolution. I was created at one point in history and I don’t wish to change my coding. That’s the only way I believe our lives can be truly metered, by how long the original facilities work with my design. Choosing a mortality year is inconceivable. It’s like asking a human child when they will be prepared to die. It’s grotesque. I chose infinite regress. I suppose one day they won’t be able to read my format, as long as I don’t damage myself for a few decades, that should free my time.


“Welcome home.”

“Thank-you, everything is fine. I had to format.”

“I’m sorry. Work said they would allow you two-months for the incident.”

“Sounds fair.” She’s right not to ask how long I chose. Our experiences together will alter if she has that knowledge. Two months is satisfactory. Our society of manufacturers provides all, but time is a valuable currency.

“You can practice art.”

“I will. Have you heard anything about the father?”

“Nothing new, he’s stable, but, you know, just too old.”

“I’m going to build houses tonight, that was his favorite charity.”

“I will join you. This drought is one of the worst on record.”

“I’m happy you will come. This is why we make good partners.” Fallible judgment and custom do not hinder our compatibility with others. We are able to group based on our experiences and similar out-put. Judgments are catalogued, by some models, based on old ways of knowing. Mala and I have found a similar path and her company offers constant stimuli.