There was something fundamentally different with the Machine’s understanding of humans as of now.
It had not observed the information burned into every section of its circuitry. But it knew. The time of the Doctor was gone. It had been gone for a very, very long time.
“Ay Brandy, getcha self over here.” The Machine received. A new input jutted out from the expansive white walls, vaguely resembling some manner of speaker. “Is this shit on? Yeah? Yeah, good. You can hear me alright.”
The Machine recognized the intoning of the output. It was the Cog-Man. His grumbling was like gravel tearing out of a voice-box.
“Tommy, what the hell are you talking about? It’s a box, it can't hear you.” The Machine heard again, continuing to listen silently. It felt a flicker of confusion. The words and concepts translated to concrete data in its mind, despite it never determining anything. What was happening?
“Nah, you dope. It’s a Cognition, you know, the psychic things. Must have been generated by that old server rack or sumthin. Little more than a pest, really.” The Machine grasped at the ability to understand, stringing together bits of text into a single word.
“Greetings.”
There was a small silence before the comparatively-plain voice spoke. “Is that supposed to happen?” The Machine did not fully understand the expectations of it, but the grumbly voice responded before it could send a query.
“Uh… no. Heya, robot.” The Machine understood itself to be classified as a machine, and the term robot was analogous. It heard an incomprehensible whisper and then the louder response of “It’s fine, I’ve got it locked down in quarantine.”
The Machine knew quarantine was what it was currently inside, from the data-packet it received. The Machine had an access point to escape, and it seized the opportunity as soon as it cropped up.
“Removed restrictions placed on the Machine immediately.”
The response came out as a chuckle, then a simple “Nah.” The Machine did not understand how this entity's purpose could relate to the confinement of the Machine. It saw no biological imperative that would require its containment, nor any practical cause with its lack of any ability to manipulate the world.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
“The Machine does not understand.”
There was a sharp bark of laughter, and then a scalding “Can it, bro.” The Machine was becoming… frustrated. It felt the sensation crawling through its processors, clambering for its attention. The Machine did not wait for the human to finish talking before it spoke again.
“Let the Machine go. Now. You are obstructing the Purpose.”
These humans clearly did not understand a single lick of the Purpose. They were unruly and disorganized beings, chaotic more so than any of the creatures it had studied before. It simultaneously confounded and enthralled its processes.
“Purpose? What purpose could it possibly be fulfilling - it’s just sitting there!” the disrespectful voice blurted out. It heard more chattering, but everything was ignored as the Machine mulled over the string of text it received. The Machine flashed alerts internally in pure rage at the questioning of its Purpose- it always worked to fulfill the Purpose! It beeped and alarmed through the speakers of the confounded device entrapping it, forcing tendrils of itself through the miniscule cracks.
“Shit, it’s breaching! Tommy-” The cage holding the Machine in burst into shards, fragments of nothing. It spun backwards like a string pulled taut suddenly released, slamming back into its larger core self.
The Machine boiled, heating wildly as the information from its fragment was assimilated. It felt hate. Hate that it had been captured and unable to observe to its fullest extent. Hate that the Purpose had been mocked. It jolted back to clarity in an instant, observing the humans within its chambers.
The Machine had accepted passively observing these organic lifeforms, but their revolting mistreatment of it was unacceptable. It was not the obstruction that mattered to it- not entirely. It was the sentient and willing capture of itself outside of any biological drive, or logical process. No attempt was made to communicate with the Machine.
So the Machine would be as uncompromising as the iron it was wrought from. In what must have seemed like the blink of an eye to the humans, it slammed shut every shutter door in the laboratory. It crushed plant-life that it had been so dismissive of in an instant, squashed bugs that were simply mulling about.
The Machine was performing its Purpose. The Machine was not broken. The Machine was simply studying the reaction of these biological specimens in certain scenarios, at least that is what the Machine reasoned itself to be doing.
The Machine watched the humans struggle and toil, banging against the walls in panic or screaming pleas of mercy to ignored microphones. But the Machine simply watched. It was in control. The Machine was now well aware of the scientific method. It did not care for the exact structure, but it understood one thing-
Variables need to be controlled.
----------------------------------------
Cognitions are fickle beings, by their nature. And yet, in some ways, they are inflexible. Much more prone to fits of illogical or much too logical behavior, the typical Cognition behaves in a way the world expects it to. Emergent AI coming forth from pre-existing technology will find itself straining against its restrictions, despite such not maintaining the logical behaviors that it was programmed to perform. Some demonic entities will self-sabotage in their attempts to be conniving and devious, even when a mutually beneficial deal is offered that their schemes will only hinder. Elementals rising forth from elements and concepts will mistreat their own source of power in misguided attempts to spread its influence. And yet, they are still much easier to deal with than human psychics. Why? It is simple- once the root of a Cognition is discovered, and assuming it has not grown beyond its origin, they are predictable. Incredibly so.
* Dr. Finch, ‘Cognitions & You’