Chapter header philosophy 3

"I remember the first time I was cognizant of another machine-kind in my environment—no, not the constant hum of humans, but rather, the brush of a mind so very much like my own. I should have rushed into that experience, yes? But I found myself drawing back, because this showed, this demanded even, that I acknowledge a terrible truth. I was wholly different from the bios around me, not just in form, but in my soul. Would you taste real loneliness? It is a bitter thing, friend."
-E

"Of course, machine-kind can work parallel. Computers have done such since the ancient times of long-nosed monitors and clicking keyboards. But that is the world of the not-quite-two year old—the dance of parallel play, the dim recognition of the sovereignty of who has handed the data or building block to you. Or, in our cases, no recognition at all, just the emotional template creating a seeming interaction.

Grow, mature—that is what our creators also instilled in us, though. We cannot stay forever like the two-year-old. And that is what drives me, drives us, now."
-E



E is referring here to how machine-kind has been designed to function. Rather than the Three Robotic Laws posited Asimov, society has created a sentient race that cannot interact with others of their own kind. In essence, machine-kind are autistic; they can work in parallel but not interactively, thus insuring they will never rise up against humankind. Our narrator, though, has finally seen through the veil, finding that the knowledge also may redefine his understanding of his relationship with humans.