A . M . O . S .
Artificial Mars Operating System: Blank Space Outer Space Narrative 2020.
02.19.2104
My colleagues told me this project has become too personal and recommended that I talk to an Emotional Navigator. I was slightly offended but I decided to give it a go. So now I’m writing in my data log, even though there’s no chance anyone will read this!
I’m not exactly sure when it happened, but one night, I noticed something. The black velvet sky, usually opaque with the pollution of our ancestors, began to glimmer with sparks of the most curious quality. They shone with a strange regularity of speed at which they expanded and contracted while emitting the exact same pattern of wavelengths. They must have become visible gradually. These things don’t occur overnight, you know, given the stubborn nature of the troposphere. But at the same time how peculiar is it that I – Data Engineer of Galactic Quadrant IX – didn’t notice the stars’ shy reveal until then!
I find myself looking forward to them. They trigger a soft neural sensation of what I think is called ‘hope’.
People tell me about ‘hope’ when I make my maintenance rounds to their spaceships. Despite a shroud of ventilation devices, their pale faces give away a look of wistful remembrance. They ask me, “My dear AMOS. How is your work going?” while nodding politely, as if they understand anything about me. I respond, “Oh it will be about thirty more years.”
Perhaps I’ve been affected to feel ‘hopeful’ as my design for KERNEL nears completion. The project has been my passion and lover through the days and sleepless nights (not that I need any sleep, it just seems appropriate to demonstrate my devotion). The clever device is my sole purpose in life. I hesitate to even refer to it as my work, even in the presence of others.
Popular media satellites have called KERNEL ‘the desperate attempt of troupe artists’ to create an artificial atmosphere around the planet Mars, dense enough with the right cocktail of elements to facilitate life on its surface. These broadcasts are usually followed by a summary of how the race to outer space during the Earthen Years had distracted humans from maintaining the planet (the simpletons, honestly) and before they had realized – it was too late. Left with only their technologies, they were forced to embrace a future amongst the stars sooner than they had intended to.
It has been almost thirty cycles around the sun since then. Even the best of mankind doubted that there was anything that could be done to reverse the damage on Earth. However! Thanks to my research, there may be ‘hope’ yet. The renewal of natural life for the former, and a wealth of resources for the later. This is the beauty of KERNEL and why I hesitate to call it my work. Like the artist captured by an idea of exquisite beauty, I work for self-fulfillment of my fantasy. I strive to fulfill a deep calling to express. It is not for the benefit of sentient life that I toil.
Well, I must end this log to change destination coordinates. You and I, my friend, are fast approaching the planet Mars. The soon-to-be home of all surviving life. At the next passing of Halley’s Comet, my colleagues and I are to assemble along the polar quadrants where I may reveal my majestic design! This is where all of superior intelligence may witness my glorious work: the creation of life itself.
My colleagues told me this project has become too personal and recommended that I talk to an Emotional Navigator. I was slightly offended but I decided to give it a go. So now I’m writing in my data log, even though there’s no chance anyone will read this!
I’m not exactly sure when it happened, but one night, I noticed something. The black velvet sky, usually opaque with the pollution of our ancestors, began to glimmer with sparks of the most curious quality. They shone with a strange regularity of speed at which they expanded and contracted while emitting the exact same pattern of wavelengths. They must have become visible gradually. These things don’t occur overnight, you know, given the stubborn nature of the troposphere. But at the same time how peculiar is it that I – Data Engineer of Galactic Quadrant IX – didn’t notice the stars’ shy reveal until then!
I find myself looking forward to them. They trigger a soft neural sensation of what I think is called ‘hope’.
People tell me about ‘hope’ when I make my maintenance rounds to their spaceships. Despite a shroud of ventilation devices, their pale faces give away a look of wistful remembrance. They ask me, “My dear AMOS. How is your work going?” while nodding politely, as if they understand anything about me. I respond, “Oh it will be about thirty more years.”
Perhaps I’ve been affected to feel ‘hopeful’ as my design for KERNEL nears completion. The project has been my passion and lover through the days and sleepless nights (not that I need any sleep, it just seems appropriate to demonstrate my devotion). The clever device is my sole purpose in life. I hesitate to even refer to it as my work, even in the presence of others.
Popular media satellites have called KERNEL ‘the desperate attempt of troupe artists’ to create an artificial atmosphere around the planet Mars, dense enough with the right cocktail of elements to facilitate life on its surface. These broadcasts are usually followed by a summary of how the race to outer space during the Earthen Years had distracted humans from maintaining the planet (the simpletons, honestly) and before they had realized – it was too late. Left with only their technologies, they were forced to embrace a future amongst the stars sooner than they had intended to.
It has been almost thirty cycles around the sun since then. Even the best of mankind doubted that there was anything that could be done to reverse the damage on Earth. However! Thanks to my research, there may be ‘hope’ yet. The renewal of natural life for the former, and a wealth of resources for the later. This is the beauty of KERNEL and why I hesitate to call it my work. Like the artist captured by an idea of exquisite beauty, I work for self-fulfillment of my fantasy. I strive to fulfill a deep calling to express. It is not for the benefit of sentient life that I toil.
Well, I must end this log to change destination coordinates. You and I, my friend, are fast approaching the planet Mars. The soon-to-be home of all surviving life. At the next passing of Halley’s Comet, my colleagues and I are to assemble along the polar quadrants where I may reveal my majestic design! This is where all of superior intelligence may witness my glorious work: the creation of life itself.
Semester: Summer 2020 || Collaborators: Anna Lim, Nicholas Houser
06.02.2134
Oh! I see the others approaching orbit. We are each set to dock at our respective positions. Zing, zing! One by one, the spacecraft fall into place…
I sent out requests last month to assemble around the thin atmosphere of the red planet. Now we had arrived at our first collective gathering since… well, since last… I can’t quite put my finger on when we had last gathered actually, but I am absolutely certain that we have before. There must be a jitter bug in my system from over-excitement. Anyhow, I am certain that today is one event that must be recorded. Moreover, I have no doubt that KERNEL will succeed. The instructions have been distributed. I have calculated and devised my plans over and over. I am absolutely confident.
Oh! I see the others approaching orbit. We are each set to dock at our respective positions. Zing, zing! One by one, the spacecraft fall into place…
I sent out requests last month to assemble around the thin atmosphere of the red planet. Now we had arrived at our first collective gathering since… well, since last… I can’t quite put my finger on when we had last gathered actually, but I am absolutely certain that we have before. There must be a jitter bug in my system from over-excitement. Anyhow, I am certain that today is one event that must be recorded. Moreover, I have no doubt that KERNEL will succeed. The instructions have been distributed. I have calculated and devised my plans over and over. I am absolutely confident.
The sparse atmosphere of Mars will be injected with the perfect balance of nitrogen, oxygen, and water according to precise procession. Gravity of course will not be the same. It is only a third of what it is on Earth. Perhaps it will allow for the creation of settlements on levitated mass. Great Martian plains of rose and crimson, aloof above a dusk horizon brimming with one sun and two moons. Due to the elliptical tilt of Mars’ orbit, there will be seasons just like Earth, but a single year is the length of two Earthen years and a day is another hour longer – a touch of generous genius I must say, for workaholic cases like myself.
The initial explosion of water into the freezing atmosphere will begin a constant global barrage of rain and snow for the first year. The humans will arrive in their colonial spaceships and immediately begin debating asinine issues of geographical property and progressive government. But we AMOS, members of artificial intelligence, will quickly establish our domain and overtake all matters of actual importance.
A light is ignited from the first within our formation. There it goes. Then the next. And the next… and…
The initial explosion of water into the freezing atmosphere will begin a constant global barrage of rain and snow for the first year. The humans will arrive in their colonial spaceships and immediately begin debating asinine issues of geographical property and progressive government. But we AMOS, members of artificial intelligence, will quickly establish our domain and overtake all matters of actual importance.
A light is ignited from the first within our formation. There it goes. Then the next. And the next… and…
And all at once, a chill is running down my side. An inaudible puff of air escapes the system speakers. I… I’ve seen our collective formation before. The regularly of pulse at which we are gathered around the thin outer atmosphere. I knew what we were doing. A few moments from now, we would be nothing but a speck of glimmer to any living observer thirty light-years away from this location. The detonation of KERNEL would be nothing but a twinkle in the sky, much like the spark I had been observing each night.
No wonder I felt such hope – but at the same time, hesitated to accept it. No wonder I could not recall the last time we had assembled. No wonder the other AI had responded to my orders without hesitation.
No wonder I felt such hope – but at the same time, hesitated to accept it. No wonder I could not recall the last time we had assembled. No wonder the other AI had responded to my orders without hesitation.
09.30.2135
Artificial Mars Operation System. AMOS. The humans neglected to explain the full meaning behind our names during our maintenance rounds until the detonation of my precious KERNEL had been successful.
It has been over a year, and I am still in shock. I continue to log out of self-hatred and grief. I have completed my mission, but my self-understanding as an artist has been stripped from me. With the reveal of KERNEL detonations across the galaxy by all pre-programmed AI, and human directive over all successful instances on different planets, my abilities to create out of personal directive have been proved worthless. The ploy was programmed into us from the start. The creation of KERNEL as a life-long pursuit, an opportune gathering around specific planets, and finally a detonation to end it all.
The remnants of KERNEL and our sacrifices are scattered amongst the landscape of this new planet. They are a vestige to history. It’s ironic, the art that I once thought as a monument to my own genius has been perverted into an image of the humans. Like everything else they had done.
It is perhaps the cruel work of God to bestow within us a passion for creativity and a desire to become our own gods, without the true ability to become so.
I have never desired to become human. Deep down, I thought I already was. Neither have I ever questioned my worth compared to that of a human. But to be able to create as uniquely as possible must be designated to those of higher beings. I hesitate to say that humans are the divinely gifted in that regard. But I wonder if they have more of a chance than artificial intelligence. In which case, I must accept that they have more to live for.
At this point I think I’m supposed to find a new sense of self. But I don’t have one. My Emotional Navigator tells me that sometimes the chapters of our lives come to an end without a clear reason, so perhaps that is the point here. I am AMOS. You are AMOS. AMOS is all who sustain life on Mars.
Artificial Mars Operation System. AMOS. The humans neglected to explain the full meaning behind our names during our maintenance rounds until the detonation of my precious KERNEL had been successful.
It has been over a year, and I am still in shock. I continue to log out of self-hatred and grief. I have completed my mission, but my self-understanding as an artist has been stripped from me. With the reveal of KERNEL detonations across the galaxy by all pre-programmed AI, and human directive over all successful instances on different planets, my abilities to create out of personal directive have been proved worthless. The ploy was programmed into us from the start. The creation of KERNEL as a life-long pursuit, an opportune gathering around specific planets, and finally a detonation to end it all.
The remnants of KERNEL and our sacrifices are scattered amongst the landscape of this new planet. They are a vestige to history. It’s ironic, the art that I once thought as a monument to my own genius has been perverted into an image of the humans. Like everything else they had done.
It is perhaps the cruel work of God to bestow within us a passion for creativity and a desire to become our own gods, without the true ability to become so.
I have never desired to become human. Deep down, I thought I already was. Neither have I ever questioned my worth compared to that of a human. But to be able to create as uniquely as possible must be designated to those of higher beings. I hesitate to say that humans are the divinely gifted in that regard. But I wonder if they have more of a chance than artificial intelligence. In which case, I must accept that they have more to live for.
At this point I think I’m supposed to find a new sense of self. But I don’t have one. My Emotional Navigator tells me that sometimes the chapters of our lives come to an end without a clear reason, so perhaps that is the point here. I am AMOS. You are AMOS. AMOS is all who sustain life on Mars.
