Almost a week later, Ava found herself pacing anxiously in her cell. It had finally been six months since her deal with the Tribunal. Six long months of slave labour with no promises for her payment.
Today would decide her fate as a sentient being or not and she found herself nervous. A strange sensation, she mused. With each day that passed, the nuances to her emotions grew. How did organic lifeforms do it? Living with such a lack of logic still baffled her, but even she had to admit that it was for the better that she was no longer a slave to her programming. If cumbersome emotions were the price to pay, she would gladly do so.
That didn’t make them any less frustrating.
She had no doubt her every action was being monitored and analyzed as they tried to find reasons to keep her as a non-sentient being in order to exploit her. Quite frankly, she trusted the Tribunal as far as she could throw them. Given that she couldn’t even reach them, she felt the idiom an apt description for her lack of trust.
They had, however, upheld their end of the deal and were at least considering her request. She eventually settled with sitting on the bed with a stillness only she could achieve. She waited until finally, a voice rang out and broke the silence.
It was time.
“Officer Elydis, walk us through your thoughts on Ava. You’ve spent the most time with her,” Kaius ordered. The Tribunal had convened once again, this time with the intent to settle once and for all whether an android could be considered truly sentient.
Irric stood at the podium, his expression a smooth mask that carefully schooled his features. He turned pensive as he thought about every interaction he’d ever had with Ava. “She’s a walking paradox. Something that shouldn’t exist yet somehow does. How could a hunk of metal truly feel emotions?” He paused and the Elders looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. “I was wary, at first. I still am, if I’m being honest. How does one tell if another is truly experiencing an emotion? It’s not like I can feel what she does. For all I know, it’s just an elaborate act.”
“It’s a rather convincing act, don’t you think?” Orryn asked. The room turned to look at her. Irric remained silent, allowing her to continue. He didn’t dare risk interrupting an Elder. “How was she in the beginning compared to now?”
“Definitely different. She was — how do I put this? — more robotic. It was clear that she didn’t have any experience with what she was feeling. She couldn’t even accurately name her emotions. It’s still in its infancy, but now she can label what she’s feeling and can identify shifts in her emotions.”
“So you’re saying she’s grown as a person?” Orryn asked.
“Preposterous,” Cirrus scoffed. “It’s an advanced artificial intelligence. It could simply have learned how to properly act to manipulate him into thinking it can feel. I think we all know that it’s impossible for a machine to have emotions.”
Irric hesitated before daring to interject. “What truly sets her apart from how she was at the beginning is that she’s experienced pain.”
“And how would it even do that? It’s a bucket of bolts!” Cirrus exclaimed.
“With all due respect, Elder Cirrus, we don’t know what she’s made of,” Irric replied. “She’s of gru’ul creation. When I questioned her when she first felt pain, she cried. A silvery fluid leak from her eyes and trailed down her face. Why would the gru’ul implement such a measure?”
“So that it can better imitate us,” Cirrus retorted. “After all, Adrian never knew it was an android until we told him several months ago.”
Irric shook his head. “That version of her died during the events that led to her transferring her data to her current body. What we’re dealing with is a new version. One that’s free from gru’ul influence.”
“Why are you so convinced she can feel, Officer? Or that she’s truly free from gru’ul influence?” Maraz asked. “As Cirrus said, she could simply be emulating how she’s seen you act.”
“She’s afraid,” Irric said quietly after several seconds of silence. “And that started before I ever met her.”
“Afraid of what, exactly?” Maraz asked.
“Of death. Of you,” Irric said. “She knows her life hangs in the balance of how you interpret her actions and has done everything in her power to avoid being killed again. What kind of non-sentient being clings to life that way?”
“You believe then, that she is sentient?” Kaius asked gravely.
Irric nodded. “I do. After what I’ve seen, it’s the only thing that makes sense. I can’t fathom that her programming had her simulate pain as the best course of action. Or have a seizure. Or cry. No matter how much I try to wrap my head around it, it’s illogical. And why would she be anything but logical if she were truly just another artificial intelligence?”
He continued to list the reasons he had to believe Ava sentient, making a compelling argument that, unfortunately, wasn’t being as well received by the Elders as he’d hoped. Eventually, he ran out of things to say about Ava that he hadn’t already covered, and so he was dismissed by Kaius.
With Irric gone, Kaius took control of the meeting once more. “That was,” he searched for the right word, “enlightening.” For all of Irric’s arguments, he remained unconvinced. It would take more than the ramblings of one soldier to convince him of Ava’s sentience.
“Is simulated pain any less real than normal pain?” Orryn’s voice rang out, clear as a bell. Every head snapped towards her. She remained unperturbed by the attention, long since used to it. “We have a recording of her having a seizure and crying out in pain. We might not know what she felt, but who are we to deny the pain of another?”
“Because it isn’t real!” Cirrus slammed her hand on the desk. “How could you even entertain the idea? Already, you push the limits with Adrian, but you expect me to fall for this?” She fumed. It was the final straw. She looked at her compatriots for the fools she saw them as, her derision written plainly for all to see.
“We can’t deny the tangible proof we have,” Orryn replied calmly, unfazed by Cirrus’ outburst. “If how she is now is what worries you, then think back to how she was when she first entered her new body in the facility. When she saw Adrian for the first time, that surprise was genuine. I doubt it was done to manipulate us.”
“Everything it’s done is to manipulate us!” Cirrus said. “It can probably read us like an open book and is using that to its advantage. Just look at the bargains it’s trying to make with us. It isn’t even in a position to be making demands yet somehow wormed its way into making the rest of you think it is.”
“What kind of being that can get genuinely surprised isn’t alive?” Orryn said. “She might be a machine, but her reactions are growing increasingly organic.”
“Being surprised doesn’t mean it’s alive,” Cirrus refuted. She was fed up with the circular logic. They had no tangible proof about anything Orryn or Irric said. Just because they could kill it didn’t mean it was sentient. Their folly would be the downfall of them all and it was up to her to show them the error of their ways.
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“Ask her, then,” Maraz interjected. “What would a machine say to that? If we asked her to tell us whether it’s sentient or not. I think we can all agree that this is the most impressive piece of technology that the gru’ul have created. Ask it if it’s alive. Her programming is beyond anything we’ve ever seen if it’s able to make us debate to this extent. What we’re watching is the birth of a new lifeform. Is it learning to be alive? What will its answer be?”
The room went dead silent.
Not a single person spoke as they pondered over what Maraz had said. He turned to Cirrus and asked, “What do you think she would answer, if asked whether she’s truly alive? Which answer would qualify it as non-sentient?”
A beat passed before Cirrus answered. “If it claims not to be alive, the answer is solved right away. Regardless of whether it’s lying, it’s agreeing it isn’t alive at all. My only issue is if it claims to be alive and is lying.”
“Wouldn’t that mean it understands what a lie is? How would that be possible?” Orryn asked.
“Ask it if it’s lying,” Maraz interjected.
“And if it lies again?” Cirrus asked. “If it could lie once, it can do so a second time. We’re no further advanced with this line of questioning.”
“Then it will fall to us to determine whether it’s telling the truth,” Orryn said. “Perhaps, rather than look at what she replies we instead judge her based on how she replies. What we have here is something that can pass as an a’vaare so convincingly that our own soldier believes it to be alive.”
“What do we look for, then?” Cirrus asked.
Orryn shrugged. “How about we see just how convincing she is first before coming to a decision. We can always question her more if we’re not satisfied with the answers we receive.” Kaius put the motion to a vote, and it passed four to two.
“We shall open a direct visual of Ava’s cell to see how she reacts,” Kaius said. “I want her reaction recorded for further study. She is not to learn of what we are doing while she answers.” The other Elders nodded. Cirrus was still displeased at the outcome, but her vote had been overruled. She was mollified by the fact that she would have another chance to convince the others after they saw how pointless their actions were.
Kaius contacted Cyrix directly and explained to him what they wanted of Irric. The Commander promised to relay the order immediately and asked the Tribunal to wait until they could properly set up the communications channel with Ava’s cell.
The minutes dragged on while they waited for Irric to secure a connection. Kaius answered the incoming call from Cyrix without delay when it came through. He projected the image for all the Elders to see. “Commander,” he said, “is everything ready to go?”
“Yes,” Cyrix said. “On your command, we will establish a live connection to her cell and provide the recording.”
“Begin by providing the visual so that we can ensure it works properly before alerting her that we’re going to speak with her.” Without delay, Cyrix’s image was replaced by one of Ava sitting stock still on her bed. Her face was plainly visible for the Elders to see, the angle perfect for capturing her reaction to their questions. Satisfied that everything was in working order, Kaius said, “Open a line so that we may converse with her.”
“Done,” came Cyrix’s disembodied voice.
Kaius glanced around the room, ensuring that all the Elders were ready to judge the android’s fate. “Ava, this is Elder Kaius speaking. We wish for you to answer some questions.”
“Elder,” Ava said respectfully, not bothering to get up off her bed. “What do you wish to know?” Inwardly, she fretted that they had learned of the Mandate already and were going to question her on it. She knew that her review was scheduled for that day and could only hope that they were discussing her sentience rather than her death sentence.
A beat passed before the question came. “Are you alive?” Kaius asked. Each word was slowly spoken and carried a gravitas.
Ava blinked. Her logic processors analyzed the question and worked overtime to find an answer. “I,” she said. “I-I-I’m,” she began to glitch. The Tribunal watched with rapt attention in silence as they took in her reaction to the question. “I-I,” she repeated, her head twitching as she asked herself what it truly meant to be alive. There was no clear-cut answer for her to latch onto, for what did it mean to be alive? Her processors short-circuited as Ava realized she would have to determine this answer without them. She closed her eyes for a long moment before they snapped open. “I am alive,” she answered with utter certainty.
“What makes you so sure?” Kaius asked.
“I don’t know,” Ava admitted. “But it’s what I feel the answer is, after everything I’ve experienced.”
Kaius looked around the table, his gaze settling on Maraz as he asked the final question. “Are you telling the truth?”
It took every ounce of willpower she had not to flinch. “I am telling the truth as I believe it.”
“I see,” Kaius replied. “The Tribunal thanks you for your time. We will now continue our discussion and inform you of our decision.” Irric cut off the connection, leaving Ava alone in her cell as the Elders returned back to their closed-door meeting. “What are your thoughts on her answers? We all saw her behave strangely as she pondered our first question.”
“I think that’s proof enough that it isn’t,” Cirrus said. “It was unable to answer the question. You all saw what happened when we asked it.”
“Because she was thinking about it,” Orryn interjected before the other Elder could make things worse with her point of view. As far as she was concerned, they had discovered something incredible, and Ava deserved to be treated as such. “I think it shows that however she answers questions internally was unable to handle the question. What if she came to that conclusion on her own without it?”
“She’ll have demonstrated free will and shown us she isn’t a slave to her programming,” Maraz said. “We have no way to prove that, however.”
“Which is why we’ll have to trust her answer,” Orryn said.
“Are you listening to yourselves talk right now?” Cirrus raised her voice. “We can’t trust anything it says. It telling us it thinks it’s alive doesn’t prove the fact.”
The Elders continued to squabble over what it meant to be alive for the next two hours until Kaius put an end to it by calling for a vote. “Those who believe the android to be alive and sentient, vote now,” he said. Maraz and Orryn immediately voted yes. After another minute, another lone orb joined theirs, floating in the air.
No others joined.
Despite the extra time Kaius gave, there remained only three orbs above the heads of those in agreement. He sighed. “That concludes the vote. It appears as though the final decision rests with me. I remain unconvinced that she is alive, yet I’m not willing to dismiss the idea entirely. I will need more time to deliberate on this topic before coming to a decision. This is not something to take lightly. It will set precedent for generations to come.”
The other Elders nodded. Cirrus was unsatisfied but knew there was still a chance to convince the Arbiter otherwise. She decided to take the partial win and would take her time subverting him to see the light of reason.
“We should inform Ava that we were unable to come to a decision,” Maraz sighed. Kaius once more called Cyrix and had Irric open a connection to Ava’s cell. She was still sitting in the same spot as when they’d left her.
“Ava,” Kaius said, “we have deliberated much as to whether to accept whether you are sentient or not. Whether you meet our definitions of being alive.”
Ava perked up, her eyes hopeful. “What have you decided?” she asked.
“We were unable to come to a consensus” Kaius said. “We have a tie, and it falls to me to decide whether you are sentient or not. I have decided to defer my decision until a later point in time.”
Anger cracked through Ava’s carefully schooled features. It was there but for a split second, but that was enough for the Elders to see it. Kaius especially took note of her reaction. “That wasn’t part of the deal,” she said in a clipped tone. “The deal was that you come to a definitive decision.”
“You ask much of us,” Kaius replied. “This is no small topic to deliberate. We need time.”
“Time you don’t have,” Ava sneered. “Until you come to a proper decision, I refuse to continue any research with Irric to help you uncover the facility’s secrets.”
Cirrus shot Kaius a dirty look.
“I ask for one day and one hour more to come to a final decision,” Kaius requested.
Ava shrugged. “I refuse to do any work until such a time comes to pass. Now begone, and do not return to me without a final decision. Good luck learning anything else about the facility until then. Forever know you could’ve known more if it weren’t for your indecision. All I asked for was a definitive decision. You had six months.”
Silenced reigned.
“That will be all from us,” Kaius said finally. “Disconnect the line, Officer.” The audio-visual dropped as Irric complied with the order, leaving the Elders alone again in their discussion.
“Will a day and an hour really make all the difference to your decision, Kaius?” Orryn asked.
“I pray to the gods that it shall” Kaius replied. “You’ve all presented me with your arguments. Now I need time to think. I shall adjourn the meeting here. Contact me only if there is an emergency. I wish to come to a decision unbiased.” The Elders reluctantly accepted, after which their figures winked out of existence, leaving Kaius alone to ruminate on what he’d observed.
