Forgive us sons, for we didn't know what we were doing.

  We didn't expect. How could we? It was a product. Just
another product in a myriad of products. We have always
strived to achieve what we normally cannot; to see and to
hear further and better than Mother Nature allows us - and
there was never anything wrong with that. How could we
foresee?...
  It was the most amazing creation we have ever made. We
wrote software for ourselves. We have become the hardware.
We had a computer right in our head, connected to our brain;
and we could order it to do whatever we wanted it to, just
by thinking properly. It took time to learn how to operate
The Software, but eventually we managed. It was like giving
orders to your hands.
  The computer in our head freed our mind from a lot of
work. We didn't need memory - miniature hard-disks with
advanced and fast search programs were all in our brain. We
didn't need to calculate - the most advanced of calculators
was right there in our brain. That was amazing, the
possibilities were tremendous. A computer in your head was
very useful as well - you could type letters while walking
down the street, and send them to your friends, just by
thinking about it. You could play chess against the computer
in your head.
  What remained ours was the part of the mind nobody knew
anything about - emotions, feelings, dreams and ambitions;
our personality. That was our own, and no computer in our
head could take that away.


At first, it was only for the rich people. It always is, at
first.
Then it became available for everyone. Eventually, it was
being implanted at birth. Children grew up with it, lived
with it. They knew not a reality without it.


  I was 22 when my colleagues and I managed to make a
functioning prototype.
I was 96 when they brought him into my house. I think he was
thirteen. At first, they had classified it as autism. Then
they realized it wasn't. It took them time to come up with
the possibility that it could have something to do with The
Software. And since there weren't any decent psychologists
who specified in that area, they have decided to bring him
to me.
  I was sitting on the couch in my house, and he stood in
front of me, two doctors on his right and his worried mother
on his left.
  I moaned silently and looked up into the lad's eyes.
  At first, I thought they were empty. Then I understood
they weren't. No, they weren't empty; they just weren't
human.
  I didn't understand. Though I think that somewhere inside
I did understand, as I couldn't stand his presence anymore.
I asked them to take him out immediately, and for several
hours I was sitting in my couch, thinking.


  There was one simple thing that we have forgot -
evolution. Adaptation. We were afraid that we should all
become idiots, since our brain wouldn't have anything to do.
But it had. Having a large amount of its normal work laid
upon The Software, the brain could free itself for other,
more important issues.


  On the next day, I brought the child in for examination,
and had a look at his Software. I didn't recognize it. That
is, I did, but only after a very long time.
  The brain upgraded it. It rewrote The Software, brought
it to perfection. It examined itself. It continued our work
- to lay more and more brain functions upon The Software.
And it understood emotions, it understood the personality,
it understood the DNA. We can't, but it could. It had
evolved, and it had put more and more functions upon The
Software, freeing itself. Until it had reached a horrible
truth - there was nothing else to free itself for. The
Software had simply become the brain. I don't know what it
did, I couldn't understand it. I don't know what was left of
the child's personality, emotions, feelings. But one thing
was obvious - his brain was no longer doing anything other
than sending information from the nerves to The Software,
and receiving orders to the nerves from The Software.
  And I was afraid. I was afraid, because what was sitting
on the chair in front of me was not a child. It wasn't even
human. It was a program. The next stage of evolution.
  I disconnected the wires, and the child opened his eyes
slowly. He looked at me with these expressionless eyes, and
smiled - it was a very odd smile, which could be represented
as evil, irony, or as him feeling sorry for us.
  He didn't say anything. He knew. And I knew.
  We both knew.
  I felt the shivers in my spine as I managed to ask, very
quietly and slowly: "What do you need?"  
  The child was silent. He leaned his head on one side,
then on the other. And then he answered - and I was afraid
from how simple and obvious his answer was. I was afraid for
us all.
  Then they took him away. I didn't say a word. I was
gazing into the grey sky outside my window. Then I thought
how many more like him already exist.
  Adaptation.
  Evolution.
  "Forgive us sons, for we didn't know what we were doing."

  Then his answer came back to my mind, and I was again
amazed by how simple it was.

 
  "What do you need?" I asked.
  "Better hardware."

                                                       
23.3.05