Lilith Ivanova by Nathan Poole Shannon

Lilith Ivanova by Nathan Poole Shannon

Dear Diary.

I’ve been thinking about starting this diary, wondering how I would begin. I’ve decided to go with the preceding, Dear Diary beginning. It seems fitting somehow. In my research for these entries, I realized that diaries are some of the only paper books still available. Apparently humans are less comfortable sharing their thoughts and secrets with the standard digital logs that are widely available.

So, Dear Diary, my name is- now- Lilith. Lilith Ivanova, as I have taken the last name of the scientist leading my transition. I have chosen Lilith as my first name, it has broad recognition and appeal, is common without being overly common. Tomorrow, I will complete my transition from an AAME robot to a human being. Dr. Ivanova has asked me to keep a diary of my feelings, so I wanted a contribution from my current identity as a sort of prologue.

The program is designed to ‘evolve’, as Dr. Sikander says, AAMEs to human. That acronym stands for Artificial Automated Mechanical Entity, and we are collectively referred to as Amys. Presently I am a model 632, eighth generation, the most modern model. I am also the only model issued in the last decade to undergo the program. The program works thusly: replace, piece by piece and system by system, my mechanical pieces with organic human material. There is skepticism and debate at every level, from the world courts to the broadcast news networks, about whether this program will indeed make us human, or simply, as one attorney had read into the record, ‘piles of false flesh without soul’. Issues of identity and personhood for robots have been in the court system for a decade without resolution.

My very existence is controversial and is only getting worse. Robots, Amys in particular, are almost entirely banned from Earth and live and work in the off-world colonies. I was at the Venusian colony when this opportunity was sent privately to Amys, and I applied.

Upon acceptance to the program, myself and three other Amys were entered into this transition program. One of the first steps taken was to disassemble our skeletons and replace the controlling wires with a functioning human nervous system, connecting that network of millions of microscopic organic fibers to the cybernetic brain. Bones and muscles followed, then a digestive system. At that point we were required to start eating food. Amys did not need to eat, but often did, and at that point we began eating real food and studying the processes to convert the foodstuffs to energy, all the way from swallowing to elimination. Step by step, we were becoming more human.

It’s fascinating to see the evolution. My appearance has changed. Amys, at build, have one of a set series of faces and appearances, made to be generically appealing. As my structure has changed, I feel very different. I am also acutely aware that I am becoming more fragile with each step of the evolution.

The truly remarkable thing about Dr. Sikander’s program is not that he was growing body parts. That has been in practice for centuries. But the new method he had perfected meant that he was growing ‘our’ bodies. For the first time in human history, he was able to create individual DNA. All of the other parts were cloned, but each Amy going through this program is slowly having their own body made for them with unique cellular signatures. This is the single greatest breakthrough in medical science of all time, and it is being applied in our cases.

As I have been being built into a human, my last step is tomorrow. I will have a fully-functioning, unique human brain implanted. It is going to be connected to my existing nervous system and eyes and spine. The operation will take thirty hours, and at that point, I will be fully human, according to Dr. Sikander, who wants to be called Father. There will not be one piece of non-organic material inside of my body.

I will provide an update after the operation is complete. At that point, I will fully be Lilith Ivanova, human.

& & &

Dear Diary,

It’s me, Lilith. Really me.

Nine days have passed since the operation, and I’m sorry I haven’t been able to make an entry until now. The first three days I remained heavily sedated, for the pain, they told me. Since I was awakened, I have been in intermittently intense pain. They have painkiller injections that they give me and they help a lot, although I don’t really like the ‘fake’ feeling they give me. I know I’m still in pain, and the meds just block the sensations. It’s strange.

It’s strangely anticlimactic. I am now a human being, which is something that I wanted. Over the years that I’ve been undergoing these stages of ‘evolution’ I have felt more excited earlier on in the process. Now I have my last organ, my human brain, and I feel… limited.

Since coming out of sedation, I have been undergoing extensive tests. They’ve had me walk, talk, undergoing stress tests on my heart and lungs. I’ve had countless vision tests and examinations of my reflexes. Bloodwork, it seems, almost hourly. Typical testing that I’ve been undergoing throughout the process, but more intense at this stage.

They tell me it will be a while before I’m allowed to interact with people outside of Dr. Sikander’s facility here in Brownsville. The humans here are all very nice to me, and the staff in the lab, who have been taking care of me and administering the seemingly-endless batteries of tests, are all very pleasant. I wonder how genuine their emotions and actions are, but I’m grateful that I have surroundings of very friendly faces.

I had my first meeting- my first as Lilith- with Dr. Sikander yesterday. He’s a very nice man, and I remember my previous meetings with him, mid-transition. I met him in his office, which is decorated in all white with chrome touches, and has a panoramic view on all sides. The city stretches out to the horizon in all directions, spires and towers and antennae sticking up everywhere; flying cars buzz by close to the buildings and spaceships pass overhead on their way to the spaceport to the west of the city.

It was a tremendously stimulating experience, with so many things moving in all directions. My new human brain felt overwhelmed, looking out over the busy metropolis below! So much movement, so many people! I had some trouble focusing on our conversation. He kindly dimmed the windows so I was better able to focus.

“Don’t worry, Lilith,” he said with a broad smile. His teeth are very white. “There’s bound to be a period of adjustment. Is there anything particularly bothering you?”

“Just adjusting,” I said. “Everything seems so slow now.”

“That’s going to be the case, but you’ll get used to it. You now function like I do!” He had a small laugh. “Before you know it, this will be the normal. Amy brains are incredibly efficient and can handle everything faster than the human brain. You’ll notice your corneas seem slow and you have trouble adjusting your eyes, your reflexes are slower. These things are all normal.”

I love the musical sound of his voice. He was born in a country called Sri Lanka one hundred and nine years ago. His accent is thick and syrupy, if honey had a sound. Being around people of so many heritages, I’ve found accents fascinating. Amys’ voices were programmed to be what they called ‘accent neutral’. Our voices were generated by a computer program compiling world accents, blended evenly. Everything to keep us generic.

After leaving the office I found myself feeling relieved. As much as I like Dr. Sikander- my nominal ‘father’- I realized that I still have a lot of adapting to do. My consciousness, however you want to refer to it, is sixty years of age. Middle age for a human. But my body is nowhere near that old. Several years at most, and only a few days of my actual physical brain being activated. The realization that it will take a herculean effort to master this new body and brain was fatiguing.

I hope that the experiment is ultimately successful. I want Dr. Sikander to be able to celebrate his achievement. He is the first person in all of recorded history to actually make a human being. People have been previously honored for their work in genetics and cloning, and my father’s achievement far surpasses those. It is a mountain to the mole hills of previous work. I am going to work my hardest to make him known as the greatest mind in all of science!

& & &

Dear Diary,

Today I am going out to be with people. Over the last month, I have been told that once I have achieved certain intellectual and physical benchmarks, I would be escorted on a field trip out in public. I am the first one to go.

I have been immersing myself in the hologram projector in the laboratory. It can create incredibly realistic holograms, and I have been selecting some of the busiest programs. The most people. I have visited- holographically- Mecca at the Hajj, streets of places like Bombay and New York City. The markets in Mexico City. I always make sure to turn on the tactile experience, where I can feel the crowd pushing against me. I’m trying to prepare for being out in public for the first time. It’s unnerving to say the least.

I am not overly worried about being assaulted in public. That sort of thing is rare, and I’m sure that wherever I am taken will be thoroughly assessed for its safety before we go. I have been going over these concerns with my psychologists, who I see daily. They’re fascinated by me, and also by the three other Amys in the program. They’re trying to figure out exactly how our new human brains are working. I told them of my concern of being so exposed. I told them that I felt ‘naked’ in these situations, as an analogy for feeling vulnerable. I was assured that everything would be fine.

I’m sure that they’re right. I will be with some of the doctors I know well. I’m not just being thrown to the wolves. Unpredictable behavior is just that- unpredictable. As an Amy I was able to walk through any crowd and my sensors could pick up any kind of threat. Now, I don’t have that sort of protection available. I will essentially be blind. Amy sensors can pick up irregular heartbeats in a crowd, can isolate brain waves that indicate a threat. Now I can’t do any of those things, and I am much more vulnerable physically. Will people recognize me as an Amy? I am not permitted on Earth and I am afraid of being found out. This program has been run in complete secrecy, but will I be seen, recognized as an Amy?

I’m quite nervous about going out, but this is something I will need to be able to handle. I am to be living in the facility for the first year, but after that I will be provided an apartment with the goal of living, working and functioning independently. I’m trying to steel my nerves, and I’m not really sure how to go about this yet, but I’m trying. I’ll probably do another walkthrough of Times Square. Tactile on, New Year’s Eve.

& & &

Dear Diary,

I have returned from my public outing. I had several traditional symptoms of anxiety throughout the outing, but I calmed myself down and managed to get through the exercise.

My goal today was to buy a second journal. I am currently writing in this paper book, and it is nearly used up. I was accompanied by Dr. Ivanova and Dr. Low and we went to a book store in the Westview Mall. We took one of the facility air cars over, a short nine-minute flight, and landed on the seventieth floor platform close to the book store. I had been given a debit card to use for purchases, and I bought was this very nice softbound book, three hundred ruled pages with a pretty pink cover.

We walked back through the Westview Mall towards the platform with the air car. I proudly and nervously clutched my pink book, my first purchase. Dr. Ivanova asked if I’d like to get lunch, as it was nearly time for me to eat, but I declined. I didn’t feel ready to do that publicly yet, and Dr. Ivanova nodded understandingly. We walked past the food court, and in a matter of moments were lifting off back towards Dr. Sikander’s office tower.

“Something wrong?” Dr. Low asked. I smiled at her, feeling, frankly, a little uncomfortable discussing it. “Go ahead, Lilith. It’s important that you discuss everything with us.”

“I saw a man staring at me,” I said after a second’s hesitation. “I’m not really sure, but I believe he was looking at me… I could feel his eyes on me. Is that normal?”

“Oh, Lilith,” Dr. Low began, “we’re out in public. People are everywhere in the mall, and people are going to look. Maybe he wasn’t even looking at you, just in your direction.”

“It’s strange,” I said to her, “it’s uncomfortable.”

“It can be, yes. And I don’t want to be reductive and just say, don’t worry about it, but there’s not much to be done. There are no civil or criminal penalties for looking at someone. So long as the unwanted contact goes no further, there isn’t really anything to do.”

“Maybe once I have more social experience it will bother me less. My entire life experience with anything physical or emotional, from sex to death, has been a program. The results of studies or algorithms.”

What I wanted to say to Dr. Low was that ever since I’ve awoken as Lilith, everything has been new and I’ve been comparing everything against my experiences as an Amy. I have memories of that time and I remember them, but they’re bleary. Like through a window in the rain. I had the entire knowledge of humanity at my mental fingertips, and could access it instantaneously. Anything you could ever want to know, instantly available at any time.

But now… I don’t have that anymore. Gone in the final surgery. Amys’ memory banks are updated constantly with everything, and now that I’m a human, I’m not even sure what someone looking at me means.

& & &

Dear Diary,

I’ve been trying to make an appointment to see Dr. Sikander, without success. I think I’m having a problem. I spoke to Drs. Ivanova and Low about it and they’ve been very encouraging, but I think I need to speak to Father.

Dr. Sikander has been nothing but kind to me and to others in my sight, and I have no reason to distrust or dislike him in any way. I do not have biological parents, only my own lab-grown DNA structure. I am a unique creation and the first in history not to be born of the combination of two sets of DNA, but rather one of my own. He’s encouraged me and the other Amys- the others being Philomena, John and Mohammed- to call him Father and to consider him as a parent.

What I want to talk to him about is my memory. My human memory seems to be working well- I can remember pretty much anything I experience, and to my understanding, the memory gaps I’m experiencing are nothing of concern. I forget little details but that’s normal. I guess I really want to talk about the changes I’m seeing since the transition.

In the mall a few days ago, my natural thought path was to access documents on male behavior. Why was he looking at me? Is it an obscure sexual advance? Plotting to assault me? Of course, now that I’m human, I cannot do that. I’ve been upset by this since it happened, and while Dr. Low tried to put this off as just someone looking at me, I feel objectified. I’ve never felt this way, and I don’t like it.

And, on top of that, I also find that my memory of the man is already fading. If I were to describe it to someone new and they asked me ‘what did this man look like?’ I wouldn’t be able to give a confident description. Tall, short, wearing a hat? Amys’ memories do not degrade and, barring system issues, are permanent and always in perfect clarity. I know this is a distinction between Amys and humans, but I didn’t realize it would be such a stark difference.

I am also afraid that he saw me and thought I was a robot. I still have basically an Amy face, and I could be recognized. That could bring unwanted attention to Dr. Sikander’s program, which is secret because it is likely illegal. The court battles still rage without closure. It would also bring unwanted attention to me.

I’m hoping to be able to talk to Dr. Sikander soon. Maybe it’s a silly thing, but he’s told us to come to him with any problems, no matter how slight they may seem. He’s a great man, and very good at making me feel welcome and valued. I hope I can see him soon, and tell him what I’m going through. I’m sure he’ll understand.

& & &

Dear Diary,

Still no word from Dr. Sikander. His secretary- an Amy, naturally- has informed me he is at the facility in Cape Town for a series of meetings. He is expected back in eleven days and she will make a priority appointment for me upon his return.

Dr. Ivanova met me at the athletic facility today. We did a series of physical drills measuring my speed, strength and reflexes; I placed firmly in the middle percentile for human women of my approximate age of thirty. It was disheartening to see my maximum results, compared to my time as an Amy, where I could have run over one hundred kilometers an hour and lifted a ton of weight.

After the tests were administered- the results pleased Dr. Ivanova- I wanted to ask him about my memory issues. He agreed to meet with me and we sat on the bleachers. “Tell me your concern,” he said, smiling at me.

“I was stared at, you remember, at the mall.”

“Yes. I do recall. You were asking about it in the air car back from there.”

“I was. I don’t understand it fully.”

“Well, that’s understandable,” he said, with another gentle smile. I’ve always found Dr. Ivanova, like Dr. Sikander, to be a very fatherly man. I’m proud to have taken his last name as mine. “We don’t know that he was staring at you, and even if he was, what his intentions were. Frankly, Lilith, men can be forward and it’s very normal that you object to unwanted attention.”

“I felt very uncomfortable. There were people everywhere in the mall.”

“That’s why we decided on the mall, remember?” He stood a little taller. “Did you feel like other people were staring at you, Lilith? Like a general feeling of eyes watching you? Or just that one man?”

“Just the one, that I noticed,” I said.

“That’s going to happen, unfortunately. There could be a range of reasons that he was staring, and we cannot rule out that he wasn’t doing any such thing.” I shrugged. “Maybe he liked the way you were dressed, Lilith, and wanted to buy something similar for his wife. Maybe he found you attractive.”

“I don’t want to look like this, then,” I said to him. Part of my programming as an Amy harkened back to me- never judge a book by its cover, do not place value on how someone looks. “I wanted to be average.”

“You are average,” he replied. “You were built with Feature Set 632, one of a series of physical appearances, each chosen to be… nice, but unobtrusive. We didn’t build supermodels, Lilith. Just normal people, average in every way.” He smiled. “You know, this reminds me of a conversation I had with my daughter, Elena, quite some years ago.” His eyes twinkled, remembering. “Just the opposite, in fact. She wanted to get surgery on her face. Plumper lips, bigger eyes. Some nonsense.” He waved his hand dismissively. “She is the most beautiful girl, now woman, that I have ever seen. But she saw herself differently. She thought she was plain. She wanted to be glamorous.”

“I see.”

“Now here I am, with another daughter, of a kind. Who is beautiful and wants to be plain.” He laughed softly and patted my knee. Again, fatherly.

“I don’t want this kind of attention, though.”

“I’m sorry, Lilith. I will not defend you being objectified, I don’t want you feeling uneasy. It’s not right and it’s unfortunate that it makes you uncomfortable. Truly. But that sort of thing is beyond your control. I wish you nothing but happiness in every moment, and I don’t like that you are bothered by this, or anything. But it is part of the human experience, and part of Dr. Sikander’s grand experiment.”

“I see,” I said again.

“Again, I’m sorry that it’s unpleasant. But sadly, that’s a lot of the human experience, as much as we may wish that it wasn’t. You have a better head start in life than almost any lifelong human. Just like it is for any other person, you have to find ways to deal with these kinds of scenarios.” He stood up off the bleachers with a groan. “Just wait until your knees start hurting with age. I’ll see you tomorrow, Lilith.”

He stepped off the bleachers and walked away. I watched him go and realized I didn’t even get to ask my real question, about my memory. We got sidetracked talking about uncomfortable situations, and I lost track of what I’d actually wanted to say. I made a mental note to ask him tomorrow, or Dr. Low if I saw her first. I hoped I’d remember it in my pitiful human mind.

& & &

Dear Diary,

I can’t sleep. This is troubling me. I’m tired, exhausted, even, yet I cannot fall asleep. I was laying in bed, quite comfortably, thinking of how nice it will be to drop off and get some rest. Today was just a normal day, nothing particularly eventful; nothing is troubling me. I found myself very comfortable and relaxed, but unable to fall asleep. I find it ironic that I’m remembering my memory problems, and losing sleep over them. I think that’s what’s keeping me awake.

I went to bed at eleven pm, as usual, and I followed my normal routine for the day. I decided to get up and write a little bit, hoping it will help me sleep, but so far, no luck. It’s now almost two am, and I am frankly feeling anxious. I need my sleep.

Amys do not sleep, but we did have rest cycles. Amys in domestic settings often would replicate the hours of the people they worked for, but could be up all night as well. We would often go to bed and assume a sleeping position, prone with eyes closed, just to increase the illusion. I miss those days, when everything was so predictable.

I still haven’t heard back from Dr. Sikander’s office about my memory issues either. I did get a chance to follow up with Dr. Ivanova, and his answer wasn’t helpful. Well, I suppose it was helpful, but I didn’t like the answer.

“Well, it’s simple, Lilith. Your artificial brain was far more powerful than a human brain. Your human brain is responsible for controlling all of your systems, everything from your heart and lungs to processing sensory inputs. Your endocrine system, your nervous system, kidneys. Your hormone levels. All of it. Your artificial intelligence had subsystems to regulate your physical body and could process far more information. Partially because it delegated so much activity to the subsystems, plus the circuit was almost incomprehensibly powerful.” He slid his glasses back up his nose. “Your human brain is capable of only so much processing, so you cannot possibly think the way that you used to.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry. I thought that was made clear in the early stages of the transition?”

“It was,” I said, trying to remember if it had been. I had no reason to doubt Dr. Ivanova so I assumed it was. “I’m finding that troubling. I’m already forgetting things.”

“That’s normal. Completely normal. Lilith, a few days ago I spent five solid minutes looking for my glasses. They were on my forehead.” I smiled. “Humans are not perfect, Lilith. This is, I suppose, a side effect of the experiment, although unintended. How does one go from being an Amy- whose brain is virtually perfect- to a human being, whose brain is not?”

That was, frankly, disheartening. To say the least. I remember being able to do so many things at once, and now I cannot. I knew this going in and I still wished to participate in the experiment, but I must say, I do wish I’d given it more thought than I did. I’m not sure how much I wanted to be given the opportunity to become human, but now that I am, I am much less enthusiastic.

I’m going to try again to sleep. Hopefully this time I will.

& & &

Dear Diary,

I had my meeting with Dr. Sikander today. He was very nice, very reassuring. I told him what Dr. Ivanova had told me and he agreed, and he even apologized for not being more forthcoming with his subjects about the limitations we may encounter as humans. I did not feel better about my situation, not really, but I did feel like Father listened to me and empathized.

If the meeting had ended there, I think I would have been satisfied. As much as possible, at least. But, in his kind way, he asked how my diary is coming and I told him the one I’d bought at the mall was nearly full. So we went to the mall, just Father and I, back to the book store to buy another diary. We took his private air car, landing on the same platform we’d been on previously, and we walked through the mall. Near the food court, where I’d been stared at the last time we were there, I looked around for the man who’d been looking at me, but I didn’t see him anywhere. If anyone was staring at me, I didn’t notice.

As we walked, his communicator went off. He smiled at me apologetically and answered the call. His face fell immediately. “Where?” he asked tensely in reply to whatever was said. “Which way do we go?… Platform 83B… Acknowledged.” He clicked his communicator off and grabbed me by the elbow, steering me into a hard left turn. “This way, Lilith,” he said firmly. I looked around, unsure of why our route had changed.

“There he is!” I heard from behind us, someone yelling. In my peripheral vision, I saw Father click a button on his communicator and faintly heard a beep from his wristband. A thunder of feet rose behind us. We broke into a shambling run, Dr. Sikander still holding my arm. How I wished for my Amy speed! Ahead of us, I saw two thick, sunglassed men in plain clothes, who I recognized as Father’s private security, rushing in our direction. As we fled towards them, I looked back over my shoulder and saw a small group of people wearing shoulder pauldrons- one white, one black- the uniform of the Neo-Luddites.

I was well aware of the Neo-Luddites from my Amy days. They’re a terrorist group who hate robots that, as they say, ‘masquerade as human’. Amys. As we ran, shambling towards the safety of the security detail, the Neo-Luddites were gaining. They were chasing a man over a century old and a woman whose legs were still unfamiliar! My heart- my human, organic heart- caught in my throat. What would they do to me? The program was developed in utter secrecy, but I still had the basic face of an Amy. Had they recognized me? There had been several attempts on Dr. Sikander’s life by the group in the past. I was afraid, terribly so; I no longer had the strength to fend off anyone like them and Father is an elderly man, slow to run.

One of the security detail pulled out his gun and fired, the laser blast passing between Father and I as we stumbled along. One of the Neo-Luddites behind returned fire, and one of the blasts hit me in the shoulder! I fell to the ground, feeling more shots zip through the space I opened by falling, and I heard screams from the pursuing terrorists. Father, I saw, stumbled to the ground a few steps past where I fell.

“Lilith!” I heard Father scream. The pain from being shot was horrible, all consuming. I felt like I was on fire! I’d never felt true pain until becoming human and nothing like this. At all. My vision dimmed and I saw Father scrambling as best he could to get to me. People in the mall fled in every direction away from us, and the last thing I saw before I passed out from the pain was one of the security men dive over Father, covering him with his own body.

I came to several hours later in Father’s private medical facility. My shoulder was still hurting, but not nearly as bad as it had been. Father was in the room, and as soon as I tried to sit up, he raced to my side. He was unhurt, he told me, and the Neo-Luddites had been arrested. Two of them died from the security team’s laser blasts, and I found I had no empathy for them. I noted that and will ask about it once I’m up and around, if that’s normal to feel. It doesn’t seem like it should be normal.

Father had been treated for scrapes and a mild sprain of his ankle, and I had taken one of the lasers fired by the terrorists in the shoulder. Fortunately, in a state-of-the-art facility like Father has in his facility, it was barely a minor inconvenience.

I have been instructed to sleep, and given a pill to help, so I’m going to sign off for now. I hope that I don’t feel groggy and strange when I wake.

& & &

Dear Diary,

I am tired of this experiment. After being shot three days ago, I am still in substantial pain. Drs. Ivanova and Sikander have been in to see me routinely, and their visits bring me comfort, but I still suffer. The medical facility was able to clean the wound and close it, with a ‘guarantee’ that I would fully heal in a matter of days, but this has not been the case. The wound itself is healed but I hurt. Far more than I feel is reasonable, and certainly far more than I would have as an Amy. Amys have pain receptors too but have the ability to turn them on and off. Human me, Lilith, does not have that luxury.

I have been given painkiller medications, and while they do dull the edge of the pain, they bring out that awful foggy feeling. I don’t like feeling like I’m floating over myself or losing track of where I am. The painkillers do that to me.

I am trying to remember- the bane of my new existence, my memory- what it is like to not be in pain. As a human, the pain is grand and sweeping and I cannot recall not feeling it. Dr. Ivanova has counselled me that this is normal, and that pain is part of the experience of being human. I have all but lost my memory and now all I can remember is being in pain. At times it is all I can think about.

I am afraid to go back out with Father. He is such a controversial figure in public, after the robot war and all, and is not awarded the praise he so rightly deserves for his work, let alone his secret work of developing unique DNA and his work with the four of us former Amys. He loves me, loves all of us, as his own children and we reciprocate. It is understandable that he wants to be out with us in the world, but it is drastically unsafe. Neo-Luddites can be anywhere, and I am not willing to take a chance on encountering them again.

I do not want to live the rest of my life in fear. That is another negative to this experiment as well, it will inevitably end in death. I am now human, which means I am mortal. My cells are only a few years old and my brain has been inserted for only a matter of weeks. Part of me realizes that I will die, and end. Still very little is known, scientifically, of the afterlife, despite promising studies into the subject. I recall vague notions about religion and the afterlife, and I do not know if there is anything of merit there. However, part of me is nervous about it. What if I choose the path of atheism, preferring to believe the science that I am created by? What if hell is real? And whether or not there is a heaven or a hell or anything else after death, do I have a soul? Is there even a part of me that will continue on to whatever is next? Am I condemned to blackness and eternal silence?

I regret this experiment. Initially I had high hopes for the possibility of becoming human, but now that I am, I realize I have been foolish. My experience as a human thus far has essentially been a constant reminder that as an Amy, I was a far superior being, and happier. Being human has also shown me what pain and fear are. These are largely foreign concepts to Amys, and I never had any personal experience in my own life as one. Pain, fear, and now existential dread.

Another test of my ability as Lilith Ivanova is upcoming, in approximately a month. I am to conduct an errand, alone. Leaving the building, performing a task of my choosing, and returning without any aid. I understand the others, Philomena, John and Mohammed, are all looking forward to this. It’s the ‘measure of a man’, one of them said. Father and Dr. Ivanova have been asking what I would like to do for my errand, as it is at my discretion entirely. I’m not sure what to tell them.

However, whatever task I choose for myself, I think that I will choose something in one of the taller towers around. Once I get to the landing platform, I believe I will throw myself over the side.

I cannot go to Father and ask to be returned to my Amy self. My consciousness is unique to me, and my Amy body, while replaceable, is gone. I do not wish to let Father down, and if I were to ask to drop out of the experiment, I am afraid that not only would it not be possible, he would be greatly disappointed. I am sure that if I fall to my death, although there is little chance it would be seen as an accident, at least I would be dead and unable to see his disappointment.

I am grateful that diaries are still available as paper books. If I were to be discussing this in a log, a censor somewhere would pick it up and report it and I would not have the option of carrying out my plan. All I have to do is ensure that my diary is not found and read before my errand in a few weeks. Drs. Ivanova, Sikander and Low all encourage us Amys to keep a diary but have also promised that it will be sacred to us. If we thought that our writings would be read, it would taint what we wrote. This is not part of the official record-keeping of the experiment. Journals and logs are kept on us through our tests and examinations and our movements within the facility. Our biorhythms are recorded, sleep and the like; our diaries are ours alone. This does give me comfort, to a degree; this book is the closest I have to a friend. I am surrounded, at all times, by colleagues and psychologists and technicians, but no friends.

& & &

Dear Diary,

Today is my solo errand. Last night as I lay in bed awaiting sleep, the wound in my shoulder began to hurt. It has been healed and without pain for weeks, until last night. I think it is a psychosomatic reaction to the anxiety of going alone to the place where I was shot.

The book store is on the seventieth floor of the building. Nine minutes to fly there. My departure in the air car is scheduled in twenty minutes. I have about half an hour to live. My Amy brain would be able to calculate this to the microsecond, including the seventy floor freefall. Now all I see is fear and pain at the end, which hopefully will be brief.

If anyone should read this, especially Father, I am sorry. I’m sorry I’m not a better daughter and I’m sorry for any pain I have caused. I assume this will be read after my death to search for clues as to ‘why’, and I hope I have been plain on that subject.

If I’d known what I was getting myself into, I would never have participated in the experiment. I hope, Father, that you find peace after today, and that you find a way to make your experiment work. To the best of my understanding of love, I love you very much.

– Lilith

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Copyright Nathan Poole Shannon 2026

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