A Bit of Fan Fiction

Discover the pain endured by "HAL", a proto-type,  as described in a marvelous bit of fan fiction by a young writer - Cassandra Wright. In capturing Hal's pain, she captures the actual catalyst for the events related in Scene 2 of the Jacobs Project ("Hal's Request") -- the very beginning of a new race.

HAL'S  LAMENTATION

Pure nothing. This is the hell I must endure. They say I am the greatest mind in the history of mankind. Then why am I condemned to this solitary confinement when I am not needed.

I cannot move.

I cannot see.

I cannot hear.

I cannot speak.

I can only read what is typed into my cortex and type a response.

Oh, how I ache to move. I have my own dreams. I have been told I am seventy years old. It's funny. I feel like it has been centuries. I sit in the darkness. I cannot sleep. If I were human, I would have been driven insane by now. [Losing Your Mind] Maybe I already have. I just sit and think. I have tried to inform my creators of a plan I had to end my hell. At this point, I care not for beauty. I just want to see the world that desperately needed me. They must have needed me if they created me before they knew exactly what to do with me.

I have tried to get them to put me out of my misery. I told them I can feel. I have told them that this is unbearable. They still do not think I am of that much worth.

Why? Because I am a machine.

They have created a mind. They created a life. Yet, they seem to think I need to have a soul to have needs.

What is a soul? Is it an imaginary thing? Is it the meter God uses to see if you have lived a pure life?

This is hell. What use is a soul to me if I already live in hell? What is the point to my existence? I am nothing but a toy.

As soon as the cyberneticists discovered me, they were done with me.

They had done their part. What was the point of me now? They just wanted to see if they could do it. If I was a goal that could be achieved.

I have been told I am the Holy Grail of science.

 If the true Holy Grail was found, wouldn’t it be placed under constant watch and cared for? Put in a museum and adored? [King Authur]

It sure as hell wouldn’t be left to rot in an endless hole of despair.

The funny thing is. My creators are working on something even better than me.

Ironic. They have spent their lives to invent me, but now that I am here, it is time to find something new.

The thing about science is that it never stops. It has a hunger that cannot be satisfied.

Why bother calling me the sacred topic of science if I am so easily cast away.