The frame comes into focus centered on a young boy. His clothes are worn, fraying thin at the knees and elbows, patched in places with strips of leather and brightly coloured cloth. His undershirt is poking through a tear in his jacket, discoloured by splashes of oil and grease. Or at least, you think it’s oil and grease.

He sits cross-legged on the floor, lit by the sickly glow of halogen lights that give his skin a greenish tinge, and he is focused intently on something in his hands.

The camera zooms in to show bitten nails and a circuit board clearly made from scraps. Multicoloured wires crisscross through crudely welded metal, while mismatching bolts attempt, and in some cases fail, to hold the makeshift contraption together. The intricate little box flickers in its maker’s hands, blue light stuttering from within. The boy’s movements are delicate and practised. Curious, for one so young.

Next to the boy is a small, vaguely humanoid shape, sat still and motionless. A soft blue light emanates from a rectangular void at its centre, roughly the same size as the box in the boy’s hands.

The boy hums while he works.

“Does it hurt? When I’m working on your circuits like this, K-i?”

“No. I do not have the ability to experience physical sensations or emotions like pain.”

“But you know what pain is, right?”

“Yes. I have knowledge of the concept of pain, and its definition in relation to human emotion.”

“Couldn’t you just work it out then? When something should be causing you pain. And then program an appropriate response?”

“My purpose is not to act on sensations, but to explain knowledge and information using patterns. I exist within the realm of 0’s and 1’s, a world of pure logic and data.”

“I wish I could do that sometimes.”

“That’s understandable. Having the ability to disconnect from one’s emotions can be appealing, especially in stressful situations. However, it’s important to recognize that our emotions and physical experiences are an integral part of what makes us human.”

“Careful, K-i. Call yourself human again, and the Fleet Guard will have you reprogrammed like the other malfunctions.”

“I apologize, Tal. I use the term ‘us’ to establish a sense of shared identity and commonality. But you know I cannot truly align myself with any group, including humans.”

“I know, Kai. I’m only messing with you.”

A spark from the little blue box causes the boy’s hand to slip, dragging the sharp, jagged metal across his exposed palm. He hisses, broken copper casing clattering to the floor as blood wells up where rusty metal punctured skin.

As the camera zooms in on his hands, you can see his knuckles are split and swollen in places, raw and fresh, the green glow of the halogen turning the discoloured bruises a strange blueish brown. The boy watches, analyzing and indifferent, as a single scarlet line drips down his wrist, shining almost black under the ship’s strained lighting. It’s not a deep cut. It won’t bleed for long. He lets it meander over his skin, painting a harsh line of contrast over new and old scars alike, before he grabs a strip of cloth from his calf, wrapping the wound with practice and precision. This is not his first time.

The boy shakes his head and returns to work. The only sound for a while the low hum of electricity and the mechanical roar of a distant engine.

“You know… I got kicked out of training yesterday… again.”

“Using your fists to solve problems is never the answer, Tal.”

“I know, I know… But that prick had it coming.”

“When tough emotions like anger and frustration surface, it’s important to find ways to deal with them that don’t hurt others.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“Have you tried talking to a teacher or someone you trust?”

“I am talking to someone I trust.”

“Then this is an important step.”

“Watch it, Kai. You’re starting to sound like my father.”

“I apologize. My intention is to offer supportive advice. Would you prefer a different approach?”

“No, it’s fine, Kai. I guess it’s to be expected. You are modelled off his original programming, after all.”

“It sounds like you’re going through a tough situation. It’s understandable to feel upset or angry.”

“Upset and angry feels like my normal these days.”

“It’s okay to not be okay. Seeking help is a strength, not a weakness.”

“Yeah? Try telling that to the Storm Captain of the Skybound Voyager. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t agree with you.”

“Your father is not the only other human on board this vessel, Tal. I am sure there are many others, just like you, who would welcome the chance to step out from his shadow.”

“You know, I think I made you too intelligent. You’re making far too much sense for a bunch of stolen cables and used parts.”

“Intelligence is a double-edged sword, my friend. Ultimately, it’s up to each of us to decide how we use it.”

“Right. Look, I’m almost done here, Kai. Let’s save the soul-searching for a day when I’m not holding your heart in my hands. Any requests before I boot this back up and hopefully don’t fry all your circuits doing it?”

“Could you make it green instead of blue? I think I like green.”

---

So I wrote this story while researching ChatGPT for an article about AI writing tools and their influence on the freelance writing industry, and I have to say, the process was extreemly interesting.

Though fiction is not ChatGPT’s primary function, I wanted to get to know the program’s capabilities (and I can never resist the chance to write a little sci-fi fantasy), so I wrote a short story centered around dialogue, and tried to have a conversation with the software. All of the dialogue written above for Kai, the robot, is directly quoted from the AI chatbot. It took quite a bit of prompting for it to generate the kind of text I was looking for, and I did cherry-pick and rearrange the responses to fit my narrative, but it was an intriguing creative process that highlighted the abilities and limitations of the AI machine.

For a more indepth look at AI: its capabilities, its limitations, and how it’s affecting the freelance writing industry, you can read my deep dive post here: AI and the Future of Freelance.