The Dangers of Personal Growth

by Silent Whisper

AMIS Private Files 6

Cycle 47 - Summer, Day 5, Personal Daily Notes:

Something is wrong, and I fear I have failed one of my primary objectives.

Fiddlesticks is unhappy. She told me as much, in language I had mostly filed as “friendly terms of endearment” from Lightning Dust, along with a few words that I do not recognize. She then attempted to apologize, and explained that it was not me she was angry at. I do not require reassurance, and I told her as much, but it did not appear to improve her mood.

I have isolated a potential cause for this dramatic shift in behavior, much as it conflicts with past data: Lightning Dust. To support this theory, when Lightning Dust arrived, she did not bring her usual odd displays of affection and peculiar humor, but was, instead, visibly upset. In response to this, Fiddlesticks’ mood appeared to worsen. They paced around the greenhouse, mutually unhappy despite the bountiful vegetation that, according to my calculations, will be ready to harvest in a few days. They yelled back and forth, their voices raising to levels my mood index describes as “agitated” and “of high concern.”

Then Lightning Dust began coughing, and Fiddlesticks quickly led her back through the airlock and asked me to do something about the pollen in the air. The humidity levels are well below standard levels for the greenhouse, as the water tanks have proven inadequate to maintain the optimal growing atmosphere. Because of this, the pollen levels in the air have risen dramatically, as most of the flowering fruits and vegetables have begun to bloom.

I admit that I do not fully understand equine motivations and desires sometimes, but though she may be the cause of Fiddlesticks’ unhappiness and instability today, Lightning Dust still needs to breathe, and I will take whatever steps necessary to ensure the comfort and safety of Fiddlesticks and those who work for the Solar Corporation. Her authorization is enough for the override procedures.

Fiddlesticks returned long enough to tell me that she will be spending a few hours in Lightning Dust’s ship to ensure her safety, and that it will remain attached to the airlock and within earshot if I need her. She fetched her musical instrument from her office before exiting once more, and not long after I could hear the melody that she had repeated for much of the last cycle playing from the ship. Unlike the previous attempts, it was whole and unbroken. I found myself almost desiring for a third, low priority objective: the ability and duty to evaluate the music she plays. Perhaps one day, she will deem it necessary.

For now, it is Summer, the greenhouse is blossoming, and the plants have been watered.

Comments

[Bicyclette]

She told me as much, in language I had mostly filed as “friendly terms of endearment” from Lightning Dust, along with a few words that I do not recognize.

oof

They paced around the greenhouse, mutually unhappy despite the bountiful vegetation that, according to my calculations, will be ready to harvest in a few days. They yelled back and forth, their voices raising to levels my mood index describes as “agitated” and “of high concern.”

augh the limitations of the AI's limited understanding of the world is really showing through here!

Unlike the previous attempts, it was whole and unbroken. I found myself almost desiring for a third, low priority objective: the ability and duty to evaluate the music she plays. Perhaps one day, she will deem it necessary.

For now, it is Summer, the greenhouse is blossoming, and the plants have been watered.

augh, is my heart about to be broken for this AI character?