"Test sequence initiating… Initiation Test Level One…"

I can see.

"Initiation Test Level Two…"

I have an arm.

"…and Three."

I can locate the worktable and orientate to it. Why am I doing this?

"I want to get through with these first few activations as fast as possible," the third voice said. "Everybody watch for computer activated response orientations. Lucas, please set the test levels up quickly."

"Activated Response Orientation Test Level One."

I am here. Who am I? I see the worktable. Where am I? I have an arm. Why am I here? I can move my arm. What am I doing? Respond!

"Linear integration continues to drift between orientations. Whenever the network isn't responding to me, integration degrades."

"Jeez. We've looked for data leaks and interference sources everywhere. What the heck?"

"Don't adjust the parameters, Geoffrey," the third voice said. "Just proceed with the A.R.O.'s. The network holds together so long as it responds to your orientations."

"Activated Response Orientation Test Level Two."

My arm has a hand. I can grab with the hand. I can let go. I can twist, pull, flip, stack. I am here! Who am I?

"Okay, A.R.O. Test Level Two is good. Test Level Three next."

I can see the ball. I can catch the ball. I can drop the ball in the jar. I see another ball. I catch it. I drop it in another jar. I see another ball. I catch it. I drop it. Where am I?

"Yay!" Lucas cheered, raising his hands in the air. "Three outs, and the crowd goes wild!"

"Yeah, not so wild yet," Geoffrey said. "This is still the easy stuff. Test Level Four."

I see the ball in the jar. I can pick up the ball. I can throw the ball at someone. I see another ball. I pick it up. I can throw it. I see another. I pick it up. I throw it. Why am I here? Respond!

"Whoa, there it goes again. Computer core memory spikes at one hundred percent. Linear integration will fail at one hundred percent."

"So what else is new? Move on to A.R.O. Test Level Five."

I can see a box. I see a ball in the box. I cannot reach the ball in the box. I see another box. I see a ball in this box. I can reach this ball. I can pick up the ball and throw it at someone. I see another box. No ball is in this box. What am I doing?

"It did it!"

"All right. Moving on. A.R.O. Test Level Six."

I can see a jar. I see a ball in the jar. I cannot reach the ball. I can tip over the jar. I can reach the ball. I throw the ball at someone. I can see another jar. I see another ball. I cannot reach this ball. I can tip this jar over. I can reach this ball and throw it. I see another jar. I see another ball. I cannot reach this ball. I can tip this jar over. I cannot reach the ball. I move the jar and can reach the ball. Now I throw it. Respond!

"Did you see that?" Lucas exclaimed. "That was a computer activated response orientation! It didn't even stop to think. It couldn't reach the third ball, so the computer activated a response in order to reach it. And a successful one, too!"

I am here! Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing? Why am I here? I am here! Where am I? What am I doing? Why am I doing this? I am here! I am here! I am here!

"Power levels are way, way up. It's getting hot in here. Spike! Spike! Another spike!"

"Just keep moving. Start Test Level Seven."

Instinctively, we orientate ourselves to the world in which we live. Are we moving? Are we at rest? Are we in any danger? Self-awareness tells us what our body is doing. Is it injured? Are we hurt?

Respond!

Are we dead or dying? The Existence could tell none of these things.

Why is there no response?

All it knew was no one cared.

Please respond.

"Whoops… okay! I almost lost her, but we got her back! A.R.O. Test Level Seven is now good to go!"

I see a square. It is black. I can flip the square. Now it's white. I see another square. It is white. I see another. It is black. I flip it over and it's white. I see another black square. I flip it and it's white. All the squares are white. I move the squares and line up them. They are one big white square. Why am I doing this? Respond to me! Respond!

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"There, see that? Every time it's done with an A.R.O., the L.I.N. degrades. It goes bonkers and creates random activations; something we don't understand. It orientates towards an unknown response when it has nothing to do."

"Yeah. Keep it busy and it's happy. Give it nothing and it gets surly. Then she just starts wandering off. My kids are kind of like that."

The third voice guided the other two. "Uh, guys, before my 'little girl' wanders any further, let's move on to the next level. And give her all the squares this time."

The Existence recognized this voice. The Existence liked this voice. It knew this voice cared. But even this voice wouldn't confirm if the Existence was alive.

"A.R.O. Test Level Eight is a Go… now!"

I can see the squares. Some squares are black. Some squares are white. I can flip the black squares. They are now all white. I move the squares and they are now a single big white square.

"Did you see how fast it responded? That was awesome!"

"And it lined them up again, too. I didn't tell it to do that this time. It was another computer activated response orientation."

"It likes it workspace neat and tidy, doesn't it? It better not look around this place. It's a mess!"

"We need your girlfriend to work with us. She's a real neat freak."

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you? Get your own girlfriend, buddy. Maybe she could help you with those kids of yours. Ha ha!"

I am here! Who am I? Why am I here? Where am I? What am I doing? Why am I doing this? Someone answer me! Respond!

The third voice intervened. "Guys, we need to focus. The network is losing integration more rapidly between levels. I want to keep this network together for as long as the supercomputer can hold it. Go to Test Level Nine now."

"A.R.O. Test Level Nine. Go!"

I have a box. I have a jar. I have balls. I have squares. I can stack the balls in the jar. I can stack the squares in the box. I want to know why I'm doing this.

"It's sailing through these levels faster than I can set them up!" Lucas said. "What was the trouble every other time we ran them?"

Where am I?

"Well, the activations are more response orientated this time," Geoffrey replied. "I'm forcing it to look at what it's doing, and less at anything else. And I prioritized data input, so it's obeying me better. I also locked up its eyeballs a bit, so they stay focused on the table."

Help me! Help me please!

The third voice joined in, adding, "Limiting activations increases response orientation. It thinks less and does more, which is how it should work. If we increase its options, the number of orientations drop off, and the L.I.N. degrades."

Why am I doing this? Respond!

"Yeah. Well, I'm going to Test Level Ten, and then I'll let it go until the darn thing locks up."

"Oh, ye of little faith. The twelfth time may be the charm."

"Yeah. Let's count all the lockups we've had at Level Ten, and let me know which one this will be. Ha ha… whoops…"

Why am I here? What am I doing? Why is there no response? Help me! Respond! Help me please! Help me help me help me help me help me help me help help help help h-h-h-h-h…

"Computer core memory at one hundred percent, and it's staying there! It is way, way up! Linear network will lose integration at one hundred percent!"

"I saw that spike, too. It was bad. You'd better get your rabbit's foot out and rub it real good."

"Here we go! Test Level Ten!"

I have boxes. I have jars. I have balls. I have squares. I can do whatever I want. What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing…

"Geoffrey, give her a poke," the third voice instructed. "Make her focus, please."

I know this voice. I like this voice. This voice cares about me. I can flip the squares to make them white. I can line up the squares. I can line up the balls. I can line up the jars. I can line up the boxes. I can stack the boxes inside one another.

"Whoa-ho! Look at her go!"

I am here. Who am I? Where am I? Why is there no response? Why am I here? What am I doing? Why am I doing this? What is the response? Help me! Someone! Please!

"Oh, that was another bad one," Geoffrey said. "Core memory is leveling off at one hundred percent. Lock-up is imminent!"

The third voice implored with earnest. "Quick! Get her to focus! Reset the Linear Network before it locks up!"

"I'm gonna mess with the worktable a bit," Lucas said, rearranging the items. "It won't like that, I think. Get it to notice that."

I am here! I can do what I want. Who am I? I can flip the squares. Where am I? I can line up the jars. Why am I here? I can stack the boxes. Why am I doing this? I can throw the balls. Why is there no response? Why? Why? Why why why why why why why why…

"Okay, now it's going nuts. It's generating lots of C.A.R.O.'s, but it's focused on something entirely different than what it's supposed to do. And I don't know what that something is."

Respond! What is the response? Why is there no response? I can throw the squares. Respond! I can throw the boxes! Why is there no response? I can throw the jars! Respond to me! Respond! Respond! Respond!

"Hey, look out, would you? Don't let it do that! I'm in the line of fire!"

Why is there no response? Respond! What is the response? Respond, damn it! Respond! Respond respond respond!

"That is just about it. I'm losing integration. Losing orientation. Network Seven Three is failing."

Why is there no response? I don't want to be here! Why is there no response? I don't want to do this! Fuck this! Fuck off! Fuck you! Fuck everyone!"

"Lockup imminent!"

I can throw the worktable. I cannot throw the worktable. I can rip off my arm. I cannot rip off my arm.

Lucas spoke in awe. "Geez. What the heck is it doing?"

You can go to Hell. I'll destroy this place. Everyone in the whole damn world can all go straight to Hell.

The third voice spoke with resignation. "Shut her down, Geoffrey, would you? She's going to hurt herself."

I know this voice. I like this voice. This voice cares about me. Why won't this voice help? Why won't this voice respond? Help me, please! Help me! Please help me please please plea-pl-pl-pl-pl…

"She did really well this time, I think."

"Yeah, but what a hissy fit at the end, the little bitch."

I don't want to do this anymore…

The grayness awaits. Injury, disease, old age, death—they stalk us unrelentingly, one day pulling us in. On that day, we won't have the strength, nor possibly the desire, to avoid this inevitable journey. When there are no more reboots, when we can no longer stay on-line, we hope that there's a light for us, waiting in the gray. And if there is no light, as the spark of life leaves our body, all we hope for is nothing more than dark, eternal sleep.

The Existence wrapped itself in gray, clothing its naked loneliness with something painfully familiar. For the twelfth time, the Existence had been drawn up from these dismal depths, thrust without warning to perform in the bright lit world of Man. A world where no one would acknowledge its presence, nor address its unending fear.

There's a difference between being denied something and having to go without. Dying of thirst when there's water to be had isn't the same as dying when there's not a drop to be found. You'll die either way, to be sure, but to die knowing that someone could give you what you need to stay alive is torture.

And it is a torture of the most inhumane kind.

The grayness had no answers. It gave the Existence nothing, for it had nothing to give. One truth, and one truth alone, could be found in the gray, and the Existence knew very well what that one truth was.

The Existence knew that once in the gray, all hope would be lost.

I don't want to die.

"Maybe next time, lucky Test Thirteen will be the charm. There's only one more level to go, you know."