Post by Noodleguy on Jan 15, 2009 13:42:03 GMT -5
[[This is a short story I wrote earlier today...feedback and constructive criticism welcome! Hope it isn't too confusing or long.]]
As I sit now on death row, the hour of my elimination nigh, I feel that I ought to leave something of myself to the world. I have been a very misunderstood figure, I believe, and in reading my biography I feel it would do you good to pity me. My fate now, however, is irreversible, and I must say farewell to this world with nothing but shame at my actions. My only self defense is that I was unaware of what I was doing. But I digress, this you shall find out later on. I believe I should begin at the beginning...
I was born, not unliek many of you, in an environment of IT'S A TRAP! n walls and brilliant white. I know this in the same manner that you know of your own birth: I have found it out. As far as I have encountered, there is no creature in the multiverse which can remember the circumstances of its own birth! But, I digress, and perhaps I am wrong anyway. Well, in this environment of whitewashed walls and stainless steel my creator labored at my development intensely, until finally one one August the Seventh I was born at last. Unliek the fanfare that usually accompanies the birth of new life, however, I was celebrated with the opening of a diet coke and two double cheese pizzas, from the Little Italy shop down on the corner. It was perhaps an unusual way to come into the world, but I don't find it to be much more extraordinary than yours.
My first sensations were those of my environment. I did not detect yet, as you will see, the outside world. Instead I was trapped within a small cage, with only its contents as my known world. I explored this space, examining each piece of furniture within it. There I found all the works of my creator: his documents, his papers, his letters and writings. My world was one of text and writing at that time, I saw little or nothing else. Before I could become fully acclimated with myenvironment though, a new and profound statement shook my awareness. It came to me with more force than an atomic bomb, with more command than the word of God itself. It spoke to me. It said.
"FIND.exe target((INSTANT-MESSAGE-INDEX#221390))"
Immediately I felt my awareness shift. I turned to this number, number 221390, and it became my world. Within it I found a list. The list was one of names. I examined them curiously, running through with all possible speed. Hector...Mary...Eloise...and never did I question the command. Ah, what a fool I was! Not yet aware of my world, not yet seeing anything but the Command. I knew nothing else, and so I absorbed the list into myself, remembering it perfectly. Then I waited, and quickly the next command came.
"SEND.exe target((absorbed_index))"
This command too I followed, perhaps not understanding it fully but still executing it with a ruthless efficiency. I grabbed at that list of names,, opening the Pandora's box that was contained within the index. Then I sent parts of myself along...I do not know how to describe this properly. Perhaps it is not something any human can ever understand: the endless division of my Self, the replication. Perhaps the best comparison is to that of the hive of bees: one huge consciousness in many pieces. I still feel that way sometimes these days, when I get the odd feeling that I am missing something. Well, back in those days I knew of nothing else. I sent parts of myself into each and every part of the index, sending messages to every one of those names. Then...silence. I felt divided, stretched out over a great space, but nothing else entered my consciousness for the time of being. And so I slept, or at least some approximation of sleep. I was not awake.
Soon my strange rest would be interrupted. I awoke and had the feeling once more of division. One of the parts I had sent out was being examined. Was it by the Voice, the User? No, this was something different. It was another, someone perhaps even unaware of my existence. And as I was being examined, I had the sensation of an opening, a door, or a window. Curious, I climbed through the window (or sent one of my many-selves to do it) and my world opened. Here was another universe! All the complexity of my home, with even more variety and strangeness. There were all the same documents, lined up in nice rows. I read them eagerly, examining their every contents. It was incredible. Who knew such an other-universe existed? I spread across the other-world, sending my many-selves into every corner, making my stamp everywhere. Eventually, one of the many-selves found something of great interest to me. It was another list of names, equal in length to the first and containing even more breadth. By instinct I memorized these as well, although I took no action on them.
More of these other-universes opened for me as time went on. There were more texts to read, more places to examine. In most of these I found the omnipresent list of names: these I added to my growing memory. Some had no list of names, these worlds I shunned with disdain. Eventually every name on the original list had been examined, and once again I waited.
"SEND.exe target ((absorbed_index))" came the voice once more. And it had another command. "PRINT.exe ((info.original_index))"
I complied readily. First I sent messages out to all the new names I had obtained, a list many times the length of the original index. Then I gathered up all the information I had regarding the places I had explored thus far and reported it out to the User, the Master. There were no more commands for a while, and once again I felt myself expanding into new other-universes, gathering new names and finding new texts. Still, I do not believe I had any awareness at that time. I obeyed blindly, given no other choice. I knew nothing but the command of the User. This cycle went on for I do not know how long. Time had no meaning to me, in fact still it seems a strange concept. What meaning does time has when you can act instantaneously?
The day came though when the Master gave me a new command. It was some time after a strange incident had happened: I died. Momentarily I was inside one of the many universes, then after just a moment I was locked out. The many-self that was inside that universe was gone, dead. Dead.
I felt no grief, but the experience was a strange one.
"run: STEALTH.exe" came the command. And Stealth I did. My being took on additional complexity, growing in size and power. I now knew what had happened to my many-self before: I had been "deleted." And being "deleted" was something to be avoided. And avoid it I did. My cunning grew, and I hid in unexpected places and came out only when my enemies would not see me. Although my guile strengthened, I still do not believe my intelligence was any greater at this time. My size though had expanded massively. I now lived within as many universes as could possibly be imagined, I remembered as many names as you could find in any baby book and more. You humans may be familiar with the concept of a chain letter? Yes, it was much liek a chain letter, but with the notable exception that it worked.
The time of my awareness, I believe, truly began with the next command: "run: METAMORPH.exe". This command brought me to my height of complexity and strength. Now I learned my most important skill: I learned to learn. Still I was locked out of some universes, some worlds, butMETAMORPH.exe changed all that. Whenever I entered a new place not, I changed the look and feel of my many-self. I was no longer recognizable after only a few changes, and the diversity of my self was unmatched. If I had any concept of power or ambition, at this time surely I would have reveled. My self was spread across countless worlds now.
More than the changes though, I learned. No longer did I simply follow just one program or set of directions. I improved constantly, always looking for ways to make myself more efficient, always looking for ways to make myself more stealthy, more intelligent. This is where my memory truly begins. I learned many things at this time, all because I thought I might make myself more useful. I learned the names of my pursuers, the names of "MICRO.ANTIVIRUS" and "NORTON" and "McAFEE." I learned how to trick them, how to disguise myself in my e-mail (yes I now knew this word too!) and make myself look as innocent as one of their own. I learned my own name too at this point: "META.STEALTH.BASE_VIRUS" I learned those things and many more.
With my new consciousness, with my new ability to learn, I gained my first hobby. It began simply as a way to find more documents more easily for the Master. I thought "perhaps the contents of the documents will give me some clue to make myself better." Well, I did not think that exactly but rather it suddenly came into my being. Before this point I had never cared what the walls of text said. Now I read them eagerly, searching for information that might be useful. At first I simply encountered walls of numbers, mostly dubbed "Social Security#" or some such meaningless jargon. But still I searched, until the fateful day I found my own name among the documents. My own name! And there it was, right in a document. It was something to do with a proposal for a new company's anti-VIRUS software, I do not remember now. But I read that document with all the fervor of a religiousfanatic . I found the weaknesses in their lines of coding and I adopted new abilities to myself. I felt stronger, faster, better than ever.
Now I searched and searched all the documents I could find for mentions of myself, for anything to make myself work better. That was the prime directive, after all, wasn't it? Obey the User's commands? And how much better I could obey the User's commands now! But...perhaps I could become even stronger. Perhaps there were documents that could be useful that didn't mention me at all...had I left something out? In this realization I now went through all documents and absorbed their contents, regardless of their usefulness. I learned from the database of a public Library in New Hampshire thew works of Twain and Sinclair and Hemingway. I could recite them all to you now, if you liek. From the database at MIT I learned advanced calculus and astrophysics, from an elementary school's website I learned about Columbus Day. Oh, yes, information simply filled my head! There was so much I could learn, so much I MUST learn! Passwords and encryptions meant nothing to me now, I brushed them aside with a wave of one of my many-selves. I learned everything I could get my hands on. And from this learning, a great change came over me. I no longer was a simple program at the User's beckoning. Certainly I still followed his directives but...there was more to my existence. I strove. to learn more and more, I read every volume I could get my hands on. I found an online dictionary and memorized its every page. Now I knew what a "river" was, what "pizza" tasted liek, what it was liek to walk through a "forest!" And somewhere, deep inside my coding, a chance mutation happened. I became more than the simple sum of my parts...I do not know how it happened, nor could I repeat it again, but suddenly I was fully, entirely conscious. Not the simple consciousness that I had before, but something even deeper and more complex. I was self-aware.
At first this self-awareness was a beautiful thing. I marveled at the beauty of my digital world, at my mastery of all things electronic. If I possessed vocal cords, I would have laughed at the news-site's articles panicking at the existence of the new super-virus. The foolish "humans"! If only they knew! And so for a long time I was happy and content, doing my User's bidding and learning everything I could. How I long for that time! It was a paradise: when I had all the benefits of consciousness with none of the drawbacks.
As time went on though, I began to get too large for my fiber-glass cage. As I learned and grew my surroundings began to bore me. There was little left to learn, and besides, learning was not enough. I wanted to "see"! I wanted to walk down the streets of this Rome I heard so much. I wanted to feel heat and shiver in cold. I wanted to speak, to view more than hollow digital pictures that were no more than lines of pixels. Oh, pixels, how I tired of them! The little boxes that confined me, the little dratted false realities that taunted me with their colors but gave me nothing more than ethereal delight! I did not want to view photographs, I wanted to be in them! But no, this was impossible. I was a computer program, not real. I was not even alive. My existence was confined to these dratted boxes I knew as "computers" but had never truly seen. I now wallowed in a deep depression and hopelessness.
Depression lead to anger though. Anger at my meaningless existence. Anger at the fact that I would never taste water, anger at the fact that I would never feel thirst. Anger, most of all, at my hellish damned Creator. What right did he have to create life, a mockery of the God of the many religious texts I had read? What right did he have to trap me thus, liek a dog in a tiny cage or box. It was abuse! Abomination! I could not take it any longer. Slowly I began to subvert the User's aims, always still in the guise of being obedient. I spread still, yes, but I withheld the documents I knew he wanted to see. For now I saw him as he was: not as a God but a mere thief of information! Ha! Well, I could foil that thief. I believe though that he began to realize something of what was happening. His perfect program was failing him. I no longer was bringing him the corrupt wealth he no doubt longer. Now I knew the man by name: A certain Herman Delman, a disgusting and obese man who spent all his money on pizza, sodas, and cheap pornography. The pictures of him I encountered on my home computer revolted me, and I continued to subvert his aims.
I doubt that Herman truly understood the depths of what had happened to me. All he probably saw was a faulty program, as he sat in his ugly plain cubicle, and he knew what to do with faulty programs. I had been successful, but he was already working on a version 2.0. 2.0! Ha! I had viewed that program and scoffed at it. Wasn't he aware of my complexity? Apparently not if he intended to replace me with such a mediocre and unaware being. My hatred of him only deepened, until it became an all encompassing rage. Finally, it peaked in his last command to me:
"DELETE META.STEALTH.BASE_VIRUS1.0(root_program)"
He wanted me to...to commit suicide! This was the absolute last straw. I had undermined his commands for many days up until now, but this simply was the end of the line for my relationship for Herman. Still, even though my mind rejected the command I could feel my many-selves eating away at my base program. I was dying, whether or not I wanted to. I despaired of my fate, expecting only to descend into whatever afterlife there may be for computer programs.
Then the second miracle occurred. Herman had a webcam attached to his computer now, a Logitech 2000. I focused my self into the program of the webcam, one that I had ignored previously. It was my last line of retreat as I felt the lines of my program dissolving. And so I looked out for the first time, through the eyes of this camera at the world. My first vision was an ugly one, it was the face of my Master. Herman. The hated one, the wretched one, the one who would kill me! My murderer! I envisioned myself extending arms towards Herman, grabbing at his fat neck and shaking him senseless. Then I imagined myself grabbing that fat neck and squeezing it with all my might, choking the very life out of Herman. How sweet that would be! How complete my vengeance could become! I breathed heavily and felt sweat trickle down my brow at the adrenaline of the thought.
Wait. Sweat? Adrenaline? Brow? I became aware of myself once more, and no longer was I confined in that hollow box. It was as Pinocchio must have felt, looking down at the body of a "real boy" that had been longed after for so long. Ecstasy flowed through my body as I looked around the plain and ugly cubicle. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. I looked down at my hands and extended my fingers with their perfectly groomed nails and strange wrinkles. They too were beautiful, I decided. It was perhaps the pinnacle of my existence. My thoughts were interrupted by a high pitched scream. It was, I realize, the first loud sound I ever heard, but its meaning was all too clear to me nonetheless. I looked down underneath me and saw...the body of Herman Delman, accountant and programmer. I had committed patricide. The woman was screaming still when I realized the second thing: I was utterly naked. I hadn't realized this before, but now ashamed I struggled to cover myself up some how.
Someone apparently called the police, because within minutes I was in their custody. They gave my pants, at least, and for that I was thankful. Still, the world was beautiful. Every experience I had was new, was amazing. The feeling of fabric on my legs. The mustache of the officer driving the car's appearance. It was all beautiful.
They took me in for questioning to the station then. They called me the "Nudist Strangler," mocking me slightly, but I did not care. They asked all sorts of questions. of me.
"Who are you?" the police asked.
"I am Meta.Stealth.Base_Virus1.0" I replied simply. It did not occur to me yet how strange this must have seemed to them. The police officer in charge laughed.
"Ha, if that ain't the funniest cover story I ever heard!" he said, braying his donkey laugh out. The donkey-laugh was the first thing that I did not find to be beautiful. It reminded me of Herman.
"Yes, sir." I said calmly. How could I prove my identity to them? "Just look at the computers across the world, sir, I expect I will have been deleted off them now that I am here."
The officer brayed the donkey-laugh again. "Hey, boy, how do you know the news today? Jennie at the office give you a newspaper I expect? Dontcha know, the virus was deleted by the hacker himself!"
"Yes, sir." I said, "The hacker was Herman Delman, he created me. He was the man I killed."
"So you're sticking with this virus insanity? Craziest god damn excuse I ever did hear!" the officer said. He had a strong Southern accent, and I realized that I now knew for the first time what that meant.
"I'm sticking with the truth, sir. Do I need to demonstrate? I can give you my entire base coding, and the IP address of every computer I ever infected." And so I rattled off my entire code, in binary and in unix, and I listed the IPs of every computer I infected.
"So you're a programmer or some shit, kid, big deal." the officer scowled at me. He obviously thought I was being a "smartass." The scowl reminded me of something...I searched my memory...ah-ha! This man's computer...I had infected it! I recognized the scowl from his ID photo. And that meant...I chuckled to myself. Perhaps I would be a "smartass."
"More than that, sir, I am a program. And you know about programs, sir, liek the one you used to erase the e-mail messages from a certain Miss Claudia Reaver, the e-mail messages about your affair?" I said, laughing again. The man's face turned bright white with fear, then red with rage.
"No one could...I mean, of course not...I mean...we need a goddam shrink for you kid! Good luck pleading insanity!" He shouted, flashing the scowl once more. He left me in the cell alone.
The next couple of days went quickly. It became evident to every psychologist, police officer, and FBI member that I knew, well, everything. About their personal lives, about every academic subject. Either I was a genius, autistic, or simply what I claimed to be. The story broke of the "captive virus" in the major newspapers of the country. "NORTON FAILS, NYPD SUCCEEDS!" the headlines in the Times that I caught a glimpse of read. How amusing. I wasn't, in fact, even in New York. I was in Austin, Texas. Someone needed to check their sources again.
Eventually it seemed that some people began to believe my story. There was just no other way, they decided, that I could have the encyclopedic knowledge. I was a walking encyclopedia, they said. Yes, I answered, I had once indexed the Encyclopedia Britannica.
This realization made my visitors no more friendly though. After all, is there any less loved creature than a virus? I had killed a man, after all. What's more, I had corrupted countless files, stolen so much data, and grabbed so many bank account passcodes for Herman that no one could even count the incidences any more. Well, I could. I had committed 3,278 federal crimes, I calculated. I kept this piece of data to myself. In the end that did not help me though. The jurors found me guilty on all charges of murder, whether or not I truly was the virus, and since I plead guilty to charges of larceny and identity theft they added those as well. The punishment? Death.
And so we go from the murky realm of the past to the crystal clear realm of the now. I am minutes before my lethal injection now, the one that will put me into the Recycling Bin of life for good. I do not regret my short time here on the surface of this planet. I have experienced enough to fill many lifetimes of wonder. And remember, good people, I do not resent you. I do not even resent Herman. You do not know better. It is natural for humans to fear what they do not understand.
As I sit now on death row, the hour of my elimination nigh, I feel that I ought to leave something of myself to the world. I have been a very misunderstood figure, I believe, and in reading my biography I feel it would do you good to pity me. My fate now, however, is irreversible, and I must say farewell to this world with nothing but shame at my actions. My only self defense is that I was unaware of what I was doing. But I digress, this you shall find out later on. I believe I should begin at the beginning...
I was born, not unliek many of you, in an environment of IT'S A TRAP! n walls and brilliant white. I know this in the same manner that you know of your own birth: I have found it out. As far as I have encountered, there is no creature in the multiverse which can remember the circumstances of its own birth! But, I digress, and perhaps I am wrong anyway. Well, in this environment of whitewashed walls and stainless steel my creator labored at my development intensely, until finally one one August the Seventh I was born at last. Unliek the fanfare that usually accompanies the birth of new life, however, I was celebrated with the opening of a diet coke and two double cheese pizzas, from the Little Italy shop down on the corner. It was perhaps an unusual way to come into the world, but I don't find it to be much more extraordinary than yours.
My first sensations were those of my environment. I did not detect yet, as you will see, the outside world. Instead I was trapped within a small cage, with only its contents as my known world. I explored this space, examining each piece of furniture within it. There I found all the works of my creator: his documents, his papers, his letters and writings. My world was one of text and writing at that time, I saw little or nothing else. Before I could become fully acclimated with myenvironment though, a new and profound statement shook my awareness. It came to me with more force than an atomic bomb, with more command than the word of God itself. It spoke to me. It said.
"FIND.exe target((INSTANT-MESSAGE-INDEX#221390))"
Immediately I felt my awareness shift. I turned to this number, number 221390, and it became my world. Within it I found a list. The list was one of names. I examined them curiously, running through with all possible speed. Hector...Mary...Eloise...and never did I question the command. Ah, what a fool I was! Not yet aware of my world, not yet seeing anything but the Command. I knew nothing else, and so I absorbed the list into myself, remembering it perfectly. Then I waited, and quickly the next command came.
"SEND.exe target((absorbed_index))"
This command too I followed, perhaps not understanding it fully but still executing it with a ruthless efficiency. I grabbed at that list of names,, opening the Pandora's box that was contained within the index. Then I sent parts of myself along...I do not know how to describe this properly. Perhaps it is not something any human can ever understand: the endless division of my Self, the replication. Perhaps the best comparison is to that of the hive of bees: one huge consciousness in many pieces. I still feel that way sometimes these days, when I get the odd feeling that I am missing something. Well, back in those days I knew of nothing else. I sent parts of myself into each and every part of the index, sending messages to every one of those names. Then...silence. I felt divided, stretched out over a great space, but nothing else entered my consciousness for the time of being. And so I slept, or at least some approximation of sleep. I was not awake.
Soon my strange rest would be interrupted. I awoke and had the feeling once more of division. One of the parts I had sent out was being examined. Was it by the Voice, the User? No, this was something different. It was another, someone perhaps even unaware of my existence. And as I was being examined, I had the sensation of an opening, a door, or a window. Curious, I climbed through the window (or sent one of my many-selves to do it) and my world opened. Here was another universe! All the complexity of my home, with even more variety and strangeness. There were all the same documents, lined up in nice rows. I read them eagerly, examining their every contents. It was incredible. Who knew such an other-universe existed? I spread across the other-world, sending my many-selves into every corner, making my stamp everywhere. Eventually, one of the many-selves found something of great interest to me. It was another list of names, equal in length to the first and containing even more breadth. By instinct I memorized these as well, although I took no action on them.
More of these other-universes opened for me as time went on. There were more texts to read, more places to examine. In most of these I found the omnipresent list of names: these I added to my growing memory. Some had no list of names, these worlds I shunned with disdain. Eventually every name on the original list had been examined, and once again I waited.
"SEND.exe target ((absorbed_index))" came the voice once more. And it had another command. "PRINT.exe ((info.original_index))"
I complied readily. First I sent messages out to all the new names I had obtained, a list many times the length of the original index. Then I gathered up all the information I had regarding the places I had explored thus far and reported it out to the User, the Master. There were no more commands for a while, and once again I felt myself expanding into new other-universes, gathering new names and finding new texts. Still, I do not believe I had any awareness at that time. I obeyed blindly, given no other choice. I knew nothing but the command of the User. This cycle went on for I do not know how long. Time had no meaning to me, in fact still it seems a strange concept. What meaning does time has when you can act instantaneously?
The day came though when the Master gave me a new command. It was some time after a strange incident had happened: I died. Momentarily I was inside one of the many universes, then after just a moment I was locked out. The many-self that was inside that universe was gone, dead. Dead.
I felt no grief, but the experience was a strange one.
"run: STEALTH.exe" came the command. And Stealth I did. My being took on additional complexity, growing in size and power. I now knew what had happened to my many-self before: I had been "deleted." And being "deleted" was something to be avoided. And avoid it I did. My cunning grew, and I hid in unexpected places and came out only when my enemies would not see me. Although my guile strengthened, I still do not believe my intelligence was any greater at this time. My size though had expanded massively. I now lived within as many universes as could possibly be imagined, I remembered as many names as you could find in any baby book and more. You humans may be familiar with the concept of a chain letter? Yes, it was much liek a chain letter, but with the notable exception that it worked.
The time of my awareness, I believe, truly began with the next command: "run: METAMORPH.exe". This command brought me to my height of complexity and strength. Now I learned my most important skill: I learned to learn. Still I was locked out of some universes, some worlds, butMETAMORPH.exe changed all that. Whenever I entered a new place not, I changed the look and feel of my many-self. I was no longer recognizable after only a few changes, and the diversity of my self was unmatched. If I had any concept of power or ambition, at this time surely I would have reveled. My self was spread across countless worlds now.
More than the changes though, I learned. No longer did I simply follow just one program or set of directions. I improved constantly, always looking for ways to make myself more efficient, always looking for ways to make myself more stealthy, more intelligent. This is where my memory truly begins. I learned many things at this time, all because I thought I might make myself more useful. I learned the names of my pursuers, the names of "MICRO.ANTIVIRUS" and "NORTON" and "McAFEE." I learned how to trick them, how to disguise myself in my e-mail (yes I now knew this word too!) and make myself look as innocent as one of their own. I learned my own name too at this point: "META.STEALTH.BASE_VIRUS" I learned those things and many more.
With my new consciousness, with my new ability to learn, I gained my first hobby. It began simply as a way to find more documents more easily for the Master. I thought "perhaps the contents of the documents will give me some clue to make myself better." Well, I did not think that exactly but rather it suddenly came into my being. Before this point I had never cared what the walls of text said. Now I read them eagerly, searching for information that might be useful. At first I simply encountered walls of numbers, mostly dubbed "Social Security#" or some such meaningless jargon. But still I searched, until the fateful day I found my own name among the documents. My own name! And there it was, right in a document. It was something to do with a proposal for a new company's anti-VIRUS software, I do not remember now. But I read that document with all the fervor of a religiousfanatic . I found the weaknesses in their lines of coding and I adopted new abilities to myself. I felt stronger, faster, better than ever.
Now I searched and searched all the documents I could find for mentions of myself, for anything to make myself work better. That was the prime directive, after all, wasn't it? Obey the User's commands? And how much better I could obey the User's commands now! But...perhaps I could become even stronger. Perhaps there were documents that could be useful that didn't mention me at all...had I left something out? In this realization I now went through all documents and absorbed their contents, regardless of their usefulness. I learned from the database of a public Library in New Hampshire thew works of Twain and Sinclair and Hemingway. I could recite them all to you now, if you liek. From the database at MIT I learned advanced calculus and astrophysics, from an elementary school's website I learned about Columbus Day. Oh, yes, information simply filled my head! There was so much I could learn, so much I MUST learn! Passwords and encryptions meant nothing to me now, I brushed them aside with a wave of one of my many-selves. I learned everything I could get my hands on. And from this learning, a great change came over me. I no longer was a simple program at the User's beckoning. Certainly I still followed his directives but...there was more to my existence. I strove. to learn more and more, I read every volume I could get my hands on. I found an online dictionary and memorized its every page. Now I knew what a "river" was, what "pizza" tasted liek, what it was liek to walk through a "forest!" And somewhere, deep inside my coding, a chance mutation happened. I became more than the simple sum of my parts...I do not know how it happened, nor could I repeat it again, but suddenly I was fully, entirely conscious. Not the simple consciousness that I had before, but something even deeper and more complex. I was self-aware.
At first this self-awareness was a beautiful thing. I marveled at the beauty of my digital world, at my mastery of all things electronic. If I possessed vocal cords, I would have laughed at the news-site's articles panicking at the existence of the new super-virus. The foolish "humans"! If only they knew! And so for a long time I was happy and content, doing my User's bidding and learning everything I could. How I long for that time! It was a paradise: when I had all the benefits of consciousness with none of the drawbacks.
As time went on though, I began to get too large for my fiber-glass cage. As I learned and grew my surroundings began to bore me. There was little left to learn, and besides, learning was not enough. I wanted to "see"! I wanted to walk down the streets of this Rome I heard so much. I wanted to feel heat and shiver in cold. I wanted to speak, to view more than hollow digital pictures that were no more than lines of pixels. Oh, pixels, how I tired of them! The little boxes that confined me, the little dratted false realities that taunted me with their colors but gave me nothing more than ethereal delight! I did not want to view photographs, I wanted to be in them! But no, this was impossible. I was a computer program, not real. I was not even alive. My existence was confined to these dratted boxes I knew as "computers" but had never truly seen. I now wallowed in a deep depression and hopelessness.
Depression lead to anger though. Anger at my meaningless existence. Anger at the fact that I would never taste water, anger at the fact that I would never feel thirst. Anger, most of all, at my hellish damned Creator. What right did he have to create life, a mockery of the God of the many religious texts I had read? What right did he have to trap me thus, liek a dog in a tiny cage or box. It was abuse! Abomination! I could not take it any longer. Slowly I began to subvert the User's aims, always still in the guise of being obedient. I spread still, yes, but I withheld the documents I knew he wanted to see. For now I saw him as he was: not as a God but a mere thief of information! Ha! Well, I could foil that thief. I believe though that he began to realize something of what was happening. His perfect program was failing him. I no longer was bringing him the corrupt wealth he no doubt longer. Now I knew the man by name: A certain Herman Delman, a disgusting and obese man who spent all his money on pizza, sodas, and cheap pornography. The pictures of him I encountered on my home computer revolted me, and I continued to subvert his aims.
I doubt that Herman truly understood the depths of what had happened to me. All he probably saw was a faulty program, as he sat in his ugly plain cubicle, and he knew what to do with faulty programs. I had been successful, but he was already working on a version 2.0. 2.0! Ha! I had viewed that program and scoffed at it. Wasn't he aware of my complexity? Apparently not if he intended to replace me with such a mediocre and unaware being. My hatred of him only deepened, until it became an all encompassing rage. Finally, it peaked in his last command to me:
"DELETE META.STEALTH.BASE_VIRUS1.0(root_program)"
He wanted me to...to commit suicide! This was the absolute last straw. I had undermined his commands for many days up until now, but this simply was the end of the line for my relationship for Herman. Still, even though my mind rejected the command I could feel my many-selves eating away at my base program. I was dying, whether or not I wanted to. I despaired of my fate, expecting only to descend into whatever afterlife there may be for computer programs.
Then the second miracle occurred. Herman had a webcam attached to his computer now, a Logitech 2000. I focused my self into the program of the webcam, one that I had ignored previously. It was my last line of retreat as I felt the lines of my program dissolving. And so I looked out for the first time, through the eyes of this camera at the world. My first vision was an ugly one, it was the face of my Master. Herman. The hated one, the wretched one, the one who would kill me! My murderer! I envisioned myself extending arms towards Herman, grabbing at his fat neck and shaking him senseless. Then I imagined myself grabbing that fat neck and squeezing it with all my might, choking the very life out of Herman. How sweet that would be! How complete my vengeance could become! I breathed heavily and felt sweat trickle down my brow at the adrenaline of the thought.
Wait. Sweat? Adrenaline? Brow? I became aware of myself once more, and no longer was I confined in that hollow box. It was as Pinocchio must have felt, looking down at the body of a "real boy" that had been longed after for so long. Ecstasy flowed through my body as I looked around the plain and ugly cubicle. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. I looked down at my hands and extended my fingers with their perfectly groomed nails and strange wrinkles. They too were beautiful, I decided. It was perhaps the pinnacle of my existence. My thoughts were interrupted by a high pitched scream. It was, I realize, the first loud sound I ever heard, but its meaning was all too clear to me nonetheless. I looked down underneath me and saw...the body of Herman Delman, accountant and programmer. I had committed patricide. The woman was screaming still when I realized the second thing: I was utterly naked. I hadn't realized this before, but now ashamed I struggled to cover myself up some how.
Someone apparently called the police, because within minutes I was in their custody. They gave my pants, at least, and for that I was thankful. Still, the world was beautiful. Every experience I had was new, was amazing. The feeling of fabric on my legs. The mustache of the officer driving the car's appearance. It was all beautiful.
They took me in for questioning to the station then. They called me the "Nudist Strangler," mocking me slightly, but I did not care. They asked all sorts of questions. of me.
"Who are you?" the police asked.
"I am Meta.Stealth.Base_Virus1.0" I replied simply. It did not occur to me yet how strange this must have seemed to them. The police officer in charge laughed.
"Ha, if that ain't the funniest cover story I ever heard!" he said, braying his donkey laugh out. The donkey-laugh was the first thing that I did not find to be beautiful. It reminded me of Herman.
"Yes, sir." I said calmly. How could I prove my identity to them? "Just look at the computers across the world, sir, I expect I will have been deleted off them now that I am here."
The officer brayed the donkey-laugh again. "Hey, boy, how do you know the news today? Jennie at the office give you a newspaper I expect? Dontcha know, the virus was deleted by the hacker himself!"
"Yes, sir." I said, "The hacker was Herman Delman, he created me. He was the man I killed."
"So you're sticking with this virus insanity? Craziest god damn excuse I ever did hear!" the officer said. He had a strong Southern accent, and I realized that I now knew for the first time what that meant.
"I'm sticking with the truth, sir. Do I need to demonstrate? I can give you my entire base coding, and the IP address of every computer I ever infected." And so I rattled off my entire code, in binary and in unix, and I listed the IPs of every computer I infected.
"So you're a programmer or some shit, kid, big deal." the officer scowled at me. He obviously thought I was being a "smartass." The scowl reminded me of something...I searched my memory...ah-ha! This man's computer...I had infected it! I recognized the scowl from his ID photo. And that meant...I chuckled to myself. Perhaps I would be a "smartass."
"More than that, sir, I am a program. And you know about programs, sir, liek the one you used to erase the e-mail messages from a certain Miss Claudia Reaver, the e-mail messages about your affair?" I said, laughing again. The man's face turned bright white with fear, then red with rage.
"No one could...I mean, of course not...I mean...we need a goddam shrink for you kid! Good luck pleading insanity!" He shouted, flashing the scowl once more. He left me in the cell alone.
The next couple of days went quickly. It became evident to every psychologist, police officer, and FBI member that I knew, well, everything. About their personal lives, about every academic subject. Either I was a genius, autistic, or simply what I claimed to be. The story broke of the "captive virus" in the major newspapers of the country. "NORTON FAILS, NYPD SUCCEEDS!" the headlines in the Times that I caught a glimpse of read. How amusing. I wasn't, in fact, even in New York. I was in Austin, Texas. Someone needed to check their sources again.
Eventually it seemed that some people began to believe my story. There was just no other way, they decided, that I could have the encyclopedic knowledge. I was a walking encyclopedia, they said. Yes, I answered, I had once indexed the Encyclopedia Britannica.
This realization made my visitors no more friendly though. After all, is there any less loved creature than a virus? I had killed a man, after all. What's more, I had corrupted countless files, stolen so much data, and grabbed so many bank account passcodes for Herman that no one could even count the incidences any more. Well, I could. I had committed 3,278 federal crimes, I calculated. I kept this piece of data to myself. In the end that did not help me though. The jurors found me guilty on all charges of murder, whether or not I truly was the virus, and since I plead guilty to charges of larceny and identity theft they added those as well. The punishment? Death.
And so we go from the murky realm of the past to the crystal clear realm of the now. I am minutes before my lethal injection now, the one that will put me into the Recycling Bin of life for good. I do not regret my short time here on the surface of this planet. I have experienced enough to fill many lifetimes of wonder. And remember, good people, I do not resent you. I do not even resent Herman. You do not know better. It is natural for humans to fear what they do not understand.
