What do you do when people you trust turn on you?
What can you say to make them see?
How can you back out when the price of doing so is a life?
I hate being me.
I hate being an android. You think it'd be great, right? Holographic technology that would make the Andalites drool with envy, super strength that Superman would kill for, an amazing long lifespan that not even the Fountain of Youth could grant?
What a gift, right?
Try 'curse.'
The problem with being a machine is just that: You're a machine. And a machine can only do one thing.
What it's programmed to do.
Programming is everything. Programming dictates who you are, what you think, what you believe, what you can do. You are your programming. Your programming is you.
Even for an advanced, unearthly android like me.
It doesn't matter if you're a simple robot drone for screwing on toothpaste caps, or an amazingly complex android meant to be the perfect companion. It doesn't matter that you can think, learn, and make informed decisions. It doesn't matter that you can love, hate or something in between. It doesn't matter that you can mature. It doesn't matter at all.
Programming is everything.
If your programming says 'You cannot harm a living creature,' than you flat-out cannot harm a living creature. Period.
You can find loopholes. I have. The Iskoort homeworld, and the fight against the Howlers? I wanted those Howlers dead. I wanted the Animorphs to do what my programming would not let me do.
Kill them. Massacre them. Slaughter them. Do to them what they did to my creators. What goes around comes around. Like Hammurabi said: An eye for an eye.
But I couldn't. My programming is so strict, I could not even tell them how to kill the Howlers. Even though I knew. Even though I had known all along that Crayak was the key.
But I found a loophole...
I could not lie to the Animorphs. Another part of my strict moral programming. But, I could not tell the entire truth. Technically, that isn't lying. If it was, I would not be able to live my human life(s).
So I kept back the information about all Howlers being children. As long no one asked me right out "Erek? Is there something you're not telling us?" As long as no one figured it out, they would be that much more likely to kill the Howlers.
When it has to be done, I have no problem with killing. An eye for an eye. War is disgusting and cruel, but sometimes it's necessary. I've lived long enough to know that sometimes, violence is the only way someone will listen.
Senseless slaughter is what bothers me.
Killing in self-defense, that's justified. Killing because you need a cheap thrill, that should be enough for lethal injection. Personal opinion.
I just can't do it. I can't even swat a fly, for God's sake. Flat-out can't do it.
The Animorphs taking the Pool ship, and all the killing that will come from it, that's sort of justified. They're instigating it, but it sort of has to be done. Moral compromise. Rationalizing. Something I've learned in a few millennia on Earth.
But...
Knowingly manipulating your friends, using their idiosyncrasies, things that can't help, their programming, that's wrong. Using it against them is even worse. Threatening to kill someone if they don't agree...
Well, I don't know if there really is a hell, Jake Berenson, but...
I knew one day, Jake, that this would happen. Everyone says you have the human race's fate in your hands. That's wrong. The Hork-Bajir, the Yeerks, the Taxxons, the Humans, and even my people, the Chee... Their fate all rests with you as well. Hell, I don't know. Maybe even the Andalites will be affected by your success or defeat....
But that is amazing power. And power corrupts.
I expected this. I expected you to be corrupted within months.
Between your youth and the absolute normality of your previous life?
Power would destroy you.
I was wrong, in way. It's been two and a half years. That's how long it's taken for you to become corrupted.
I was almost hopeful that you were different. That you were not Napoleon. Not Hitler. Not Caesar. Not Attila the Hun.
But I have been observing humans for a long time, Jake. I like to think that I know them pretty well.
When I'm right, I'm right.
I hate being right.
I hate knowing that this war has taken you, and Marco, Rachel, Cassie, Tobias, Ax, Toby, Eva.... I hate knowing this war has taken good people and turned them into manipulative, ruthless, bloodthirsty soldiers.
I expected you to turn on me. Doesn't mean I like it any less, but I did expect it. When Marco first caught me, and I caught him, I promised you power. Amazing strength and stealth. I made the war look like it could end.
And then I backed out.
So, consciously or sub-consciously, I expected you to pay me back.
When I'm right...
But I never dreamed it would involve such ruthless manipulation! Such amazing disregard for life!
Perhaps not innocent life, per se. Perhaps. But this is just cruel. Using my programming, using who I am against me.
I doubt even a Yeerk visser could do this.
I lost my soul (if I ever had one in the first place, being a machine and all) by taking an amazing number of lives. Lives who were trying to kill you, the lives of Yeerks, and innocent lives... The lives of the hosts.
You, Jake?
You lost your soul by treating your friends, your allies, like pawns. Drones who will do whatever you say.
Enjoy hell, Jake.
What can you say to make them see?
How can you back out when the price of doing so is a life?
I hate being me.
I hate being an android. You think it'd be great, right? Holographic technology that would make the Andalites drool with envy, super strength that Superman would kill for, an amazing long lifespan that not even the Fountain of Youth could grant?
What a gift, right?
Try 'curse.'
The problem with being a machine is just that: You're a machine. And a machine can only do one thing.
What it's programmed to do.
Programming is everything. Programming dictates who you are, what you think, what you believe, what you can do. You are your programming. Your programming is you.
Even for an advanced, unearthly android like me.
It doesn't matter if you're a simple robot drone for screwing on toothpaste caps, or an amazingly complex android meant to be the perfect companion. It doesn't matter that you can think, learn, and make informed decisions. It doesn't matter that you can love, hate or something in between. It doesn't matter that you can mature. It doesn't matter at all.
Programming is everything.
If your programming says 'You cannot harm a living creature,' than you flat-out cannot harm a living creature. Period.
You can find loopholes. I have. The Iskoort homeworld, and the fight against the Howlers? I wanted those Howlers dead. I wanted the Animorphs to do what my programming would not let me do.
Kill them. Massacre them. Slaughter them. Do to them what they did to my creators. What goes around comes around. Like Hammurabi said: An eye for an eye.
But I couldn't. My programming is so strict, I could not even tell them how to kill the Howlers. Even though I knew. Even though I had known all along that Crayak was the key.
But I found a loophole...
I could not lie to the Animorphs. Another part of my strict moral programming. But, I could not tell the entire truth. Technically, that isn't lying. If it was, I would not be able to live my human life(s).
So I kept back the information about all Howlers being children. As long no one asked me right out "Erek? Is there something you're not telling us?" As long as no one figured it out, they would be that much more likely to kill the Howlers.
When it has to be done, I have no problem with killing. An eye for an eye. War is disgusting and cruel, but sometimes it's necessary. I've lived long enough to know that sometimes, violence is the only way someone will listen.
Senseless slaughter is what bothers me.
Killing in self-defense, that's justified. Killing because you need a cheap thrill, that should be enough for lethal injection. Personal opinion.
I just can't do it. I can't even swat a fly, for God's sake. Flat-out can't do it.
The Animorphs taking the Pool ship, and all the killing that will come from it, that's sort of justified. They're instigating it, but it sort of has to be done. Moral compromise. Rationalizing. Something I've learned in a few millennia on Earth.
But...
Knowingly manipulating your friends, using their idiosyncrasies, things that can't help, their programming, that's wrong. Using it against them is even worse. Threatening to kill someone if they don't agree...
Well, I don't know if there really is a hell, Jake Berenson, but...
I knew one day, Jake, that this would happen. Everyone says you have the human race's fate in your hands. That's wrong. The Hork-Bajir, the Yeerks, the Taxxons, the Humans, and even my people, the Chee... Their fate all rests with you as well. Hell, I don't know. Maybe even the Andalites will be affected by your success or defeat....
But that is amazing power. And power corrupts.
I expected this. I expected you to be corrupted within months.
Between your youth and the absolute normality of your previous life?
Power would destroy you.
I was wrong, in way. It's been two and a half years. That's how long it's taken for you to become corrupted.
I was almost hopeful that you were different. That you were not Napoleon. Not Hitler. Not Caesar. Not Attila the Hun.
But I have been observing humans for a long time, Jake. I like to think that I know them pretty well.
When I'm right, I'm right.
I hate being right.
I hate knowing that this war has taken you, and Marco, Rachel, Cassie, Tobias, Ax, Toby, Eva.... I hate knowing this war has taken good people and turned them into manipulative, ruthless, bloodthirsty soldiers.
I expected you to turn on me. Doesn't mean I like it any less, but I did expect it. When Marco first caught me, and I caught him, I promised you power. Amazing strength and stealth. I made the war look like it could end.
And then I backed out.
So, consciously or sub-consciously, I expected you to pay me back.
When I'm right...
But I never dreamed it would involve such ruthless manipulation! Such amazing disregard for life!
Perhaps not innocent life, per se. Perhaps. But this is just cruel. Using my programming, using who I am against me.
I doubt even a Yeerk visser could do this.
I lost my soul (if I ever had one in the first place, being a machine and all) by taking an amazing number of lives. Lives who were trying to kill you, the lives of Yeerks, and innocent lives... The lives of the hosts.
You, Jake?
You lost your soul by treating your friends, your allies, like pawns. Drones who will do whatever you say.
Enjoy hell, Jake.