milliways_bar | (no subject)

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The change of scenery has been nice, but Tarik knows the time to go back to Paradiso is coming quickly. As much as he needed a respite from the stress and the chaos of the Combined Army's offensive, he can't afford to stay any longer, no matter that time has stayed still on the other side of the door (He has checked a couple times, just to ease his conscience).

Thus he sits at a well-lit table, tagelmust and greatcoat folded on a chair by his side, the disassembled rifle he just finished cleaning spread before him. Nevermind what time does back home it has been a couple weeks here and he'd rather be sure all of his equipment is in perfect operational state before going back. The Paradiso jungle will see that it doesn't last long like that.

He has decided to take a break before reassembling the rifle and moving to the back-mounted environmental control unit, and though he would never admit it, he's using that time to people-watch. It's quite fascinating

[OOC: Occasional slowtimes expected.]

[Tinytag: Tarik Mansuri]

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"Oh, you've got aliens too?" Ellen asks. "Are yours the little green three-fingered kind with energy weapons and a tendency to eat tentacles and worms for food?"

Because if they're able to press a full-on war somewhere else, then ...well, then they might come back looking for revenge for their two ships, and Ellen's not sure she's really ready to deal with that kind of thing.

"Not offended, maybe a little surprised. I mean, the biggest trait of humanity, as a whole, is adaptability, isn't it? And the capacity for change and variety comes hand in hand with that." There's a brief pause, then a chuckle.

"And besides, I never said they were -born- like that."

(( Holy comma abuse, Batman! Sorry about that. Long day at work is long and makes me Englishing bad. ))

[OOC: *giggle* No problem. Darn subclauses. I'm off for Seder very soon, actually.]

"Huh. I never thought of it like that. I guess you're right. It just doesn't show on the outside as much."

He grins at the last comment. "Oh, well, that's different."

"No, they aren't little, or green. I think the Shasvastii have three fingers, but we have little footage of them and survivor accounts are still confused and unreliable." His face has set into an impassive seriousness. This is not a subject to his liking, it seems.

"The only energy weapon we have evidence of them using is some kind of plasma gun. Mostly they use solid-projectile guns. Oddly-designed but with familiar functions." That seriousness is changing as he speaks, turning into determination.

[OOC: Orrrr not. They've just moved it an hour later. Carry on.]

"I'm pretty sure it does show. Only we are too used to seeing those variations and consider them 'normal'" He shrugs and leans back slightly on his chair.

"And if you aren't human, and since you don't look like an alien... What exactly are you, if it isn't too rude to ask?"

"Nah, it's totally valid input. 'Specially here. I'm a data sprite."

"A data sprite?" Yeah, well, the time he comes from has moved waaaaaaay beyond sprites in the electronic sense, and his culture never actually had sprites in the mythological sense, so... "And what is that, exactly?"

"A computer program." Shrug. "We're alive in my world."

Ellen nods. "My apologies, then," she says. "I didn't mean to bring up an unpleasant subject. We... there were two scout ships, or at least I think they were scout ships; they'd been abducting people and they had some kind of death ray energy cannon, but there was only one cannon per ship, and I've seen enough vids to know that a real warship would have a lot more armament than that."

Tarik nods. That's something he can accept pretty easily.

"So, an AI. There is one in the Human Sphere. Well, one that is legal." There are rumors, of course, about what the Nomads at Praxis do, but since most of the accusations come from the AI itself, they are at best unreliable.

"No, no, no. I'm not an AI, just a regular beta-version Internet security program."

Tarik sighs and shakes his head. "No apologies needed. It is an unpleasant subject, but an important one, and I shouldn't let my mind stray from it. Our encounters have not been naval, but on land, on the one planet they are trying to establish a beachhead on..." The shake of his head speaks volumes.

"They are beating us back on all fronts. So far, we can still attribute it to surprise and the strangeness of the enemy, but we need to stem their advance soon. And we won't be able to do that unless we start to stage an united defense." There is new tension in his voice at that last bit, a kind of suppressed anger.

"You think, make decisions, and are self-aware. That, as far as I know, is what makes an AI." He pauses, shrugging faintly. "At least in my own world."

"Not in mine. We're just like this. I don't think our Users even know. My sister-in-law's an AI Game subroutine, though."

"Do you have any prospects lined up?" Ellen says curiously. "I don't have much of a background in anything like military tactics or strategy, and all I know about uniting people is the kind of stuff Reverend Avellone taught me about how to keep a congregation together. It's got to be complicated, pulling a larger group together out of lots of smaller populations."

"Prospects?" Tarik shakes his head. "Not that I would know much, I'm just a soldier, but I don't think the politicians have realized just how bad things are, yet. At least not enough to overcome their petty differences." There is a small and thoughtful pause.

"All right, I admit they aren't actually 'petty', at least not all of them. But still, in the face of this kind of thing? It's about time to sit together and do something."

Okay, that is weird enough to give Tarik pause. A world where computer programs are sentient without people knowing? That sounds odd, and quite dangerous. But still, fascinating.

"So what's the difference then between an AI and a sentient program that's not an AI, in your world?"

"Well, Game sprites aren't usually smart. They've got their algorithm and that's all they do. They're... more like Users expect programs to be, I guess. The Game Programmers wanted AndrAIa to be able to learn, so she'd become a better opponent. That's what makes her a person, not that they knew that." He grins. "Then she learned more than they planned on, and left her Game."

"And this AndrAIa you speak of is...?" It sounds quite curiously like some rumours he has heard about ALEPH, though the AI in his own universe was developed from the start with a damn lot of protocols aimed exactly at preventing it from ever turning against humanity.

Well, AndrAIa is probably considerably less complex than this ALEPH, since she's only a subroutine from a commercially available computer game. But the principle is the same.

"My sister-in-law," Enzo repeats, and gestures in the vicinity of his belt. A small window appears in midair with a pwing!, displaying a family photo a couple of years old.

"That's her."

Tarik looks at the photograph for a few moments, still slowly wrapping his mind around the fact that this boy here claims to come from a world where video games (and supposedly other computer programs) are self-aware. Then he looks up and nods.

"Well, there is one thing I can tell you, from what I've learn of humanity in my years... You and your people are lucky the Users don't realize you are sentient." The tone is one of honest sympathy, though there's still the slight puzzled undertone that Enzo surely has heard before in human voices when talking to him for the first time.

"What makes you say that?"

Because Enzo has very good reasons for wishing they did know.

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