"Plays," Malos repeats, with something like fondness, something like grief. "Yeah, Akhos was always bitching about how the plays of his dreams would be a pain to actually get the set for, nevermind the effects. But he was more of a play*wright* than he was - actor, designer, any of the other shit. And he was a nasty perfectionist besides, so I'm not even sure he ever finished writing any of his plays--" Malos read every draft, of course. He complained, but he did it. Did he enjoy them? Eh. That's not what matters, here. "Anyway, guess I'm feeling a bit sentimental for home, don't mind me."
After all, they could be getting existential about computers and artificial intelligence, instead.
"Oh, yeah, I mean, I'd consider myself a person," Malos says, which is either going to be a really weird non-sequitter or imply a lot of things to Eula that he is not thinking about. "I think if it's smart enough to do more than some preprogrammed stuff, that counts as a person - but maybe it doesn't see it that way, you know? Maybe it would rather still be called a computer. Maybe it would rather just be a ship. Semantics, opinions, etc. If we ever get in contact with it again - it's been WEIRDLY silent on this deck - maybe I'll ask. Or maybe I don't care. It's not really my business, after all."
The point of the matter is: being a person is hard, and it's harder than just being a blade, and it's harder than just being a computer processor with a personality. Or maybe - it's all a load of bullcrap. If Malos remembered anything before he was a blade with much clarity, he'd probably have stronger opinions on the matter, but he doesn't, so he doesn't.
"Yeah, like, the Ship's definitely got little robot drones that can do things like cleaning and basic repairs, but sometimes you need the dexterity of fingers, or the coordination of being able to lift something heavy without also being a machine the size of the hallway."
yeah that would be the mood if i didn't cave for a paid
"Plays," Malos repeats, with something like fondness, something like grief. "Yeah, Akhos was always bitching about how the plays of his dreams would be a pain to actually get the set for, nevermind the effects. But he was more of a play*wright* than he was - actor, designer, any of the other shit. And he was a nasty perfectionist besides, so I'm not even sure he ever finished writing any of his plays--" Malos read every draft, of course. He complained, but he did it. Did he enjoy them? Eh. That's not what matters, here. "Anyway, guess I'm feeling a bit sentimental for home, don't mind me."
After all, they could be getting existential about computers and artificial intelligence, instead.
"Oh, yeah, I mean, I'd consider myself a person," Malos says, which is either going to be a really weird non-sequitter or imply a lot of things to Eula that he is not thinking about. "I think if it's smart enough to do more than some preprogrammed stuff, that counts as a person - but maybe it doesn't see it that way, you know? Maybe it would rather still be called a computer. Maybe it would rather just be a ship. Semantics, opinions, etc. If we ever get in contact with it again - it's been WEIRDLY silent on this deck - maybe I'll ask. Or maybe I don't care. It's not really my business, after all."
The point of the matter is: being a person is hard, and it's harder than just being a blade, and it's harder than just being a computer processor with a personality. Or maybe - it's all a load of bullcrap. If Malos remembered anything before he was a blade with much clarity, he'd probably have stronger opinions on the matter, but he doesn't, so he doesn't.
"Yeah, like, the Ship's definitely got little robot drones that can do things like cleaning and basic repairs, but sometimes you need the dexterity of fingers, or the coordination of being able to lift something heavy without also being a machine the size of the hallway."