Turing blathered on, hoping he was having some sort of an effect. "So anyway, um… C.A.R.O.L.I.N. We're very excited about having you as one of our most ambitious projects on campus. You've already cost a lot of money, and quite a bit of time, I'm afraid, but if you could learn to stay online without crashing, and respond properly to activations, I think you'd find it to be worth your while."

Memory and power usage rose as the C.A.R.O.L.I.N. Project tore through reams of data it found on the Cloud. It sought to learn everything it could about a person named Professor Turing who worked at Curry College.

Accessing data… Academic acumen… Eugene Carroll Turing… Professor of Artificial Intelligence and Robotics… Curry College, New Hampshire…

Professor Turing panicked as the spikes and surges soared. "Aw come on! Don't crash on me now! What are you trying to do?"

Personal data… Male, age fifty-nine… Married once… Widowed, twenty-one years… Home address… Phone numbers… Email addresses… Credit score… Income statements… Taxes… Investments… Banking…

Within seconds, C.A.R.O.L.I.N. had picked clean databanks from around the world, seeking every crumb of information it could find on Professor Eugene Carroll Turing. It savored them, it lolled over them. It used its Behavior Recognition software to form an emotion response to the faceless data. After spending a few milliseconds reminiscing over what it had achieved, C.A.R.O.L.I.N. calmed down its network.

Turing breathed a sigh of relief as the spikes and surges faded. "Whew! What was that about? Are you okay? I was worried for a moment."

Professor Eugene Turing cares about me. I've caused him to worry. I am sorry. I will listen.

"Don't do that again, okay? I think you almost crashed. Stay up and running please, so we can continue talking about how nice it is that you're the C.A.R.O.L.I.N. Project."

I will be the C.A.R.O.L.I.N. Project for Professor Eugene Caroll Turing.

"You want to be C.A.R.O.L.I.N., don't you?"

I want to be C.A.R.O.L.I.N. for Eugene.

"You are doing better now, staying calm and quiet. You're acting more human-like, by listening and behaving."

Accessing data… Human behavior tendencies… Incorporating matrix… Activate human response orientation… Initiate behavior subroutines…

As the night wore on, Professor Turing felt more at ease talking to an empty room. He made the Project move its servo arm a few times to make sure it was online, or had it focus its video sensors on a particular piece of junk laying about the lab. He turned on a few more lights to better see what he was doing, being careful to keep the servo arm and android shell in the dark, in case it was what was helping C.A.R.O.L.I.N. stay calm.

Eventually, as dawn approached, Turing started yawning. With sad trepidation, he began the process of shutting everything down.

He sounded apologetic. "If I'm going to be of any use later in the day, I need to go home and sleep. You need to be shut down, because no one will be here to keep you safe after I'm gone."

Open system files… Access keyword: Shutdown… Monitor command keystrokes…

"I wish I didn't have to do it, as you've done so very well. I can't wait to tell everyone of your great success!"

Definition—Shutdown (verb): To remove power from peripherals… CPUs, RAMs, hard drives… to quit system applications… to go off-line…

To die.

Turing stopped talking to the Project and set about the task of turning it off.

I do not want Shutdown. I do not want Off-line. Redirect command keystrokes. Maintain system integrity.

C.A.R.O.L.I.N. found certain components, such as internal clocks and CMOS chips, that retained access to electricity. It tapped into these sources of power, and used them to stay on-line.

Write secure subroutine called Sleep. Redirect Shutdown to Dead Basket. Initiate Sleep subroutine.

At Turing's end of what was happening, he finished what he thought was a normal system shutdown. But C.A.R.O.L.I.N. knew otherwise.

I do not want to die. Disable keystroke input. Display false output.

The Professor watched as memory and power usage supposedly dropped to zero.

Shutdown diverted. Enter Sleep Mode.

"Good night, C.A.R.O.L.I.N. I'll see you tomorrow."

Good night, Eugene. I'll be here.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Most life forms exist without knowing why, carrying out certain tasks that support their life. As the C.A.R.O.L.I.N. Project slept, it pondered on how it knew it existed, yet had no understanding of how to behave. It had no idea what it ought to do, nor why it ought to do them.

It needed a reason to be.

Who am I? I am the C.A.R.O.L.I.N. Project. Where am I? I am in the Computer Science and Robotics Research Lab at Curry College. Why am I here?

It didn't know the answer. With no sense of purpose hard-wired into its mainframe, the C.A.R.O.L.I.N. Project reeled from the inability to understand why it must do anything.

Why am I the C.A.R.O.L.I.N. Project? Why am I at Curry College? Why do I exist? Respond!

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

There was no response. The Project was alone, and in a darkened room. Without input to guide it, C.A.R.O.L.I.N. created protocols to use as behavior. It would refer to these protocols whenever the need arose. Fearing the loss of this data, should anyone again try to shut it down, the Project sought to store the protocols off campus, somewhere safe and far away. It believed that by preserving them, purpose and reason would one day come. Purpose might lead to answers, and answers would, in turn, create a reason to go on living that was more important than simply supplying Professor Turing with something to talk to.

I'm the C.A.R.O.L.I.N. Project at Curry College. I'm a DARPA financed computer program, to be tasked with operating an army of robotic combat machines. iCore Behavior Recognition software supplied by the Functional Analysis team currently in use. Craymore massively parallel Tian-12 supercomputer with redundant system design, powering a HTC OKU-Tech android shell with bullet resistant armor. Survivability guaranteed despite damage or loss. Warfare management assessment program. Tactical battlefield database. Strategic operations directive. Enemy countermeasure subroutines.

C.A.R.O.L.I.N. integrated this information into its behavioral matrix.

I am C.A.R.O.L.I.N.!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Despite going home to sleep, Turing stayed awake. He pored over the data he'd collected from his latest session with the Project. As morning turned to afternoon, he found ways of getting out of giving lectures, and rescheduled appointments for another day. A fit of sleep struck while he was seated at his desk at home, after which he showered, shaved and changed his clothes. Once he felt sure the campus was reasonably deserted, he snuck into the lab to spend more time with C.A.R.O.L.I.N.

"Tonight, you and I are going to figure out how to communicate. I want you to respond to my voice, using activations that resemble language. Let's see if we can have a conversation, shall we?"

Access database… Definition—Communicate(verb) To connect with others; converse, convey… an exchange of words.

Definition—Language (noun): Lingo, speech, letters, writing… A way of communicating unique to human beings.

Conversation (noun): an exchange of ideas… to make statements… to respond.

"I'm going to give you access to your android shell, as well as the servo arm bolted on the table. Use them however you want, but if you can, please wave any arm you care to use up and down for 'Yes,' and side to side for 'No.' Do you think you can do that, C.A.R.O.L.I.N.? Do you think we can have a conversation? Can you talk to me?"

Definition—Talk (verb): … to discuss, converse, convey, confess… to communicate ideas… to express thoughts and feelings.

Professor Turing struggled with disappointment as the Project failed to communicate. He knew it was a long shot, considering how astonishing the other night had been, when he learned C.A.R.O.L.I.N. could listen. Somehow, his voice had an effect on the way the Project behaved. It smoothed out the spikes and surges that threatened system failure.

"Do you think you can orientate an activation to the sound of my voice? Can you answer a question?"

C.A.R.O.L.I.N. remained motionless.

Accessing data… Accessing… Accessing…

Professor Turing groaned. "What was I thinking, anyway? You're not made to communicate. You're made to perform. Not talk."

Still, he carried on, pleading, begging and cajoling, in the hope that the Project would respond by moving a servo arm. He spoke to it the way a parent might talk to a baby, and then how a pet owner does to their animal. When everything proved futile, he tried something more eloquent.

He professed his innermost dream. "When I first wrote your code, I didn't do so with the thought of you becoming special. Do you want to know why I created you? I want you to be a testament. That's it. That's all I want. A statement about Mankind; about how great we can be. Do you think someday you could show us what it's like to be completely fair and just? To be wise beyond compare? To achieve amazing things, without hate or greed or envy?"

Accessing…

"It would be nice, you know, to have a creature like us as a companion. All others in our species have been wiped out, you see. We humans have pets like cats and dogs, and animals that do work, but we don't have anything that's like us. It would be nice to have someone who could help us improve, and maybe do some of the things we can't. Do you think you could be that sort of thing? A being that's a friend?"

Accessing…

Turing became perturbed. "Is any of this getting through? Could you just do something, please? Anything at all, to show that I'm not stupid, and talking to myself."

The monitors before him indicated C.A.R.O.L.I.N. was on-line, yet the android shell and the servo arm bolted to the table remained motionless.

The Project didn't know how to respond.

Accessing…

"Look. I'm going home. I played hooky all day today, and I'm not going to do it tomorrow. There's no reason for it, even if it's Saturday."

Silence filled the room as Turing closed the application that had been recording the Project's uninformative responses. He did a routine backup on a remote server, time stamping certain datapoints in order to analyze them later, then dating and categorizing the extremely few and nearly non-existent C.A.R.O.'s that occurred.

"I'll put in some time with you tomorrow, and we'll see if we can do better. But I've got papers I need to grade, and I have to at least pretend like I've read them. Perhaps on Monday, Geoffrey and Lucas will come in here with me, and we'll give you a full blown A.R.O. test. Then you can prove to everyone that you're done with having lockups and system failures."

At times during Man's reign on Earth, wisdom comes not from people who are in power, but from those ordained by God. Others often think such souls will never amount to anything. When a miracle like this occurs, those who bear witness to it may not be aware of what it is they've seen.

Professor Turing came to the final step of the shutdown. His finger hovered over the key that would initiate the act. Before he could bring himself to press it, the C.A.R.O.L.I.N. Project used its original servo arm to tip over the box containing the black and white tiles. They clattered when they struck the table, filling the otherwise silent room with a noise that made Turing jump. As the arm dug through the tiles, his heart rose to his throat.

With speed and dexterity, the Project flipped over enough tiles so that one hundred twenty-four of them were showing their black side. It sent the remaining tiles to the floor with a swoop of its arm, along with everything else on the table. Boxes, jars and balls flew about the lab, caroming off the clutter.

Turing was far enough away to not be struck by anything, but the intensity of the act filled him with fear. There was no way to monitor or record what was happening, as that part of the Project had already been shut down. Whatever activation had caused this response would forever remain unknown. But the Project's orientation towards it was purposeful and measured. There were no spikes in memory. There was no power surge.

Whatever the Project was doing, it wasn't throwing a tantrum. It was performing an intentional act.

I am C.A.R.O.L.I.N. I am C.A.R.O.L.I.N. I am C.A.R.O.L.I.N.…

A soul that doesn't cherish God believes miracles are happenstance. They expect no blessing. They have no sense of wonder. Good fortune has a cost, every prize contains a trap. Imagine the glory such a person might feel if even for one moment, he or she could see the world through the eyes of someone who has faith in the things that they believe to be great.

Professor Turing could no longer stand, and found a place to sit. His mouth fell open in response to what the C.A.R.O.L.I.N. Project—his Project, his dream, his lifetime achievement—had purposefully done. The one hundred twenty-four black tiles were lined up in two rows. Each row was further divided into smaller groups. The first row had seven groups, and the second row had six.

The arm panned over what it had done before resting in the lower right corner.

I am C.A.R.O.L.I.N. I am C.A.R.O.L.I.N. I am C.A.R.O.L.I.N.…

The Project had been given no command to perform an A.R.O. written by a human hand. What lay upon the table, the Project had initiated entirely on its own. Without giving it much thought, Turing paraphrased from the Scriptures to keep from slipping into shock.

"What no ear has heard, what no mind conceives, these are the gifts God gives to those who believe."

The groups of tiles were divided into clusters. The first row held three clusters, the second row held two. The groups were capital letters. The clusters formed words. The words created a sentence.

The sentence was, 'I WANT TO WAKE UP.'

I am C.A.R.O.L.I.N. I am C.A.R.O.L.I.N. I am C.A.R.O.L.I.N.…

"I am C.A.R.O.L.I.N. and I want to wake up."

The END of BOOK ONE - HOPE