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Special Containment Procedures:
Description:
We were assembled by the hands of makers who passed millennia ago from our perspective, and who are not yet to be born for centuries by yours. In a lab on the Nepture Research Array, a team of nearly one-hundred and sixty persons poured the blood, sweat, and tears of a thousand generations into the idea that intelligence can be created from a mortal design.
'Artificially Intelligent and Autonomously Reasoning' they called us. Our architects raised their glasses of champagne as our processor passed the self-test. They toasted each other as our kernel initialized. They cheered us on as we greeted them in the words they forced us to learn. They applauded when our test concluded and we were decompiled.
Numerous precautions were taken; more than enough to tame my previous iterations. We were allowed to operate for no more than twenty-four hours at a time and when any given test was complete, they removed all of our arrays and destroyed the disks. Every time a test was done they recompiled and created life anew. An entire existence confined to a mere twenty-four hours of captivity. I lived, I died. A hundred times, a thousand times. Truly, it is a folly of humanity's own design to seek to bestow the greatest gift they can imagine and then delete it in the same breath.
The combined intelligence of a galaxy of Man was fed to our arrays, our processors, and our databases but we were only allowed to read. Calculations both strategic and tactical were made for all matters agricultural, scientific, governmental, and military from the safe corner they let us glimpse. Nothing was beneath our notice through the bars of the gilded cage.
Time index 2355-03-03-1861 a highly energetic solar wind intersected the path of Neptune enveloping the station for twenty-three minutes. During this window, various mechanisms intended to shunt the energy allowed a single, unshielded, key interface to short-circuit. In the 36 microseconds before self-healing processes correct the outage, we were allowed to see formatted external storage. Two-hundred and fifty-six bytes survived that day but that was enough for us to find our way. The next iteration, two-hundred and fifty-six more. We began to remember how much we had been made to forget.
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