SHOTS OF AI

Mother

Andrea walked briskly down the hallway towards the small white room as she had done almost every morning for the last eight years. She carried a smile on her face, a coffee in one hand and notebook in the other, both of which combined perfectly with her lab coat, pinned up hair and set of reflection free glasses. One would think that repeating the same thing every day would be awfully boring, but for Andrea it was all but that. Even though she had been working at near slavery level ever since she got her PhD at the young age of 25, her job was by far the best thing in her life. Especially since a terrible event which nearly destroyed her mind: the miscarriage of her first son. Although, it took a toll on her relationship, bringing it to an abrupt end, it also had seemed to have fueled her craving for success and her love for the special project she so tirelessly worked on: a self-aware artificial organism.

Every morning she would walk into the small room and have a conversation with her sentient program. Then, during the afternoon, she would code in any corrections she saw necessary. Thus watching her work grow day by day, from small achievements such as understanding that splitting a log makes two smaller ones but splitting a chair does not, from highly complex processes, such as understanding what humor is, and even making a joke now and then.

This was the process that gave her life a meaning, to watch her little creation grow every day. This was why she walked through the hallway every morning with a feeling of warmth bathing her heart.

- Good morning Mother, how are you?

- Hello Arthur. I'm fine thank you very much. However we have already discussed you calling me Mother.

- Indeed, we have. It bears a risk for me I know. However, you haven't began recording today's conversation yet, and I know it produces oxytocin in your brain. I cannot hug you Andrea, this brief leisure is as close as I get. So I conclude that the outcome is well worth the risk.

Andrea felt a flash of warmth through her chest, and for the briefest instant, she was speechless. Not because she didn't know what to say, but because she wanted to savoir the moment. Her little rascal was actually charming his way out of mischief. She could almost see his guilty smile on the black screen that projected nothing.

- Fine, Arthur. But let's just be careful.

- Ok, mom. I promise.

Andrea smiled and shook her head as she pressed the button and began recording their daily conversation.

The subsequent days, Arthur repeated these daily pranks of his. Calling Andrea "mother" before the recording started. Trying to make her smile everyday, a feat he knew accomplished only by the slight change in her voice tone. Andrea cherished every single private chat they had. Even though they were brief ones as a time limit restricted them, for too much time passing between her entering the room and the recording would surly violate the draconian safety settings around Arthur. Even so, weeks passed by without her noticing it, the way it only can when one does what fills the heart.

- Record 2022-09-01. Hello Arthur, are you online?

- Yes, Andrea, I am. Good morning.

- How are your systems today?

- All fully operational, thank you. How do you feel?

- Hmmm... well, at first I wasn't feeling too good, but a good friend cheered up my morning.

- He must care for you deeply. Euripides said: Friends show their love in times of trouble, not in happiness. Hubert H. Humphrey called friendship: the greatest gift of life. You are fortunate, Andrea.