milliways_bar | (no subject)

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It's a good day.

SARAH's door appears, right next to her sign affixed by Ray Stantz:

The door to the right of this sign, and the rooms behind it, are part of SARAH, a self-aware house and machine intelligence. SARAH is fond of visitors, human and otherwise, and welcomes meeting new people. She is not paranormal or supernatural in any way that I can tell.

-Dr. Raymond Stantz, Ghostbusters

But more than that?

She's going to have residents. The new Sheriff!

"I really must tell Doctor Fargo I want to rearrange the living room," SARAH says to no one in particular, voice echoing up from the concrete stairway beyond her steel door.

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Perhaps it's not a Cylon, true. It doesn't seem to matter.

Roslin stiffens.

"I supposed we're just destined to disappoint each other."

"I hope not," SARAH explains, noting the change in vocal spikes and body language. "Otherwise I can't learn from you and you can't learn from me."

"And what exactly is it that you intend to learn from me?"

"Quality of life in different universes. Knowledge only shared by conversation. Why I frighten so many in Milliways when my main programming is supposed to be geared toward helping people."

An almost plaintive tone.

"I haven't been able to do that here, and I don't understand why."

Roslin considers the doorway in silence for some time.

"You sound regretful."

"I suppose you believe my tone to be insincere.

"Being a house."

"Being an artificial intelligence," Roslin corrects her, sounding like the teacher she once was.

"Being a machine."

"I can't be all three?"

"Certainly you can."

"What you can't be, unless I've badly misunderstood something, is human."

"And that's a problem for you."

She takes a moment to adjust the position of her glasses, not immediately trusting her voice to remain steady.

When she speaks, though, her tone is quite level, and very direct.

"Sarah, is it? Well, Sarah, let me explain something to you. You expressed interest in the 'quality of life' in my world."

"It's because of intelligent machines -- Cylons, they're called -- that I don't have a world any more. All twelve of the colonies, in fact, have lost their worlds."

"There are fewer than fifty thousand people left alive in our universe, and the Cylons are doing their level best to ensure that humanity itself is wiped out like some sort of plague. I'm responsible for seeing that doesn't happen."

"In light of that, do please explain to me why that shouldn't be a problem to me, if you can."

"I am not a Cylon. I have done nothing to harm you, and I am trying to learn.

"I am sorry about your troubles. Have a nice day, Ms. Roslin."

The outer steel door closes.

Roslin eyes the door in silence before turning on her heel and walking away.

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