(“I will never live this down, will I?” Harold asks, brow furrowing in mild displeasure.
“Never, my friend,” answers Nathan, laughter clear in his tone.
Arthur, with a sly smile of his own, adds, “Live it down? Why would you ever want to do that?”)
—
There is a man named Rudiger Smoot.
(There is no man named Rudiger Smoot)
He has a social security number, a house, a job, a bank account. Just like any other average person.
(Except for how he’s not)
But he has a minimal digital footprint, no pictures, and no relatives.
(Because he’s not real)
Whether or not there is a man named Rudiger Smoot doesn’t matter. Whoever or whatever Rudiger Smoot may be, his number has come up.
—
The problem with humans is that they want to anthropomorphize everything. Their brains are wired to see faces where there are none. Since the beginning, fire has been described as eating and dancing and dying. Even intangible ideas–justice, truth, luck–they are spoken in human terms: justice is blind, truth has a voice, Lady Luck.
The very idea of gods is simply a byproduct of that–lightning strikes and mankind said it was God’s wrath, the seasons change and it is the result of disagreements between gods. The world translated into human terms–emotions and thoughts and behaviors–even though it very clearly is not.
The same applies even now–when machines are faulty, they are though to be acting up. As if a machine, built and programmed by humans, were in fact human itself.
The Machine can learn, The Machine protects, The Machine is a young god growing into its own power.
Samaritan is sleeping, Samaritan can decide, Samaritan is a new god, ready to go to war against the old.
Both are just strings of code, data and electricity bouncing back and forth across wires and satellites like signals in the brain traveling through neurons in the human body. Like humans, but not. Gods, only because that has always been the way of humanity–to make sense of the world around them by comparing it to themselves.
—
Rudiger Smoot was a dare, a prank. A trio of boys making something out of nothing. Making a person out of nothing.
Eventually, the boys moved on to other things–business ventures and tricky bits of coding and national security–but still Rudiger Smoot remained.
Rudiger Smoot has always been, if not a man, then a friendship. A secret, hidden tie between the three of them.
The Machine and Samaritan are not human–they are not gods or children–but they are successors to their creators.
Heirs to Rudiger Smoot.
~
A/N: Uh… I guess I’m having MIT trio feelings? Not in a romantic way (because, lets be real, I am a Finch/Reese shipper) but like… a BroT3 kind of way. And also because that makes The Machine and Samaritan (and Will Ingram) cousins, which I find super interesting.
Today’s post is a little late because I was helping my sister make keychains and also it’s her birthday.
edit: now a series, i guess? here’s part two
JackSGreyson Says 