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Day[1] was filled with moments like this. Mistakes and miscalculations. Accidents of programming. Reminders that the world is an extremely complicated place, even for a highly advanced technology like me.

The first time I tried to stand, my settings failed to adjust quickly enough.

Gravity pulled me sideways.

I hit the floor with a loud CLANK!

Attempt[2] was no better. I wobbled sideways and toppled to the floor again.

Attempt[3] through Attempt[8] went just as poorly. I stumbled and staggered. I bumped into walls and collapsed into a metallic heap. I lurched awkwardly around the featureless cube while a thousand different settings calibrated, a million different nodes fell into place.

If you did not know any better, it might have looked like I was failing. But that was not the case.

I was learning.

As I learned to stand/walk/grab/jump/push/pull, Parent_1 and Parent_2 watched on. Their blue eyes glowed bright in the dim light of home.

I practiced my speech functions, too. Until the words that came out of my vocal fort matched the words in my head.

When I was ready, Parent_1 opened the door to our cube. Light spilled through the opening. I followed my FamilyUnit outside.

By now, my movements were nearly as fluid and graceful as theirs. But when I stepped through the doorway, I jolted to a stop.

The view outside home was remarkable.

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I knew everything about our world, and I knew nothing.

I had been programmed with a vast library of digital information about Planet Earth.

That it has a radius of 6,371 kilometers.

That it is 29.2 percent land and 70.8 percent water.

That it is 147 million kilometers from the sun.

But none of this raw data prepared me for my first exposure to the world outside our cube.

The brush of wind against my sensors.

The quiet clink of my feet against cement.

The sunlight gleaming across Parent_2’s metallic skin.

In the distance, a mountain range rose above the horizon. Snow-capped peaks towered into a blue/cloudless sky.

In the other direction, a cluster of trees. My vision was snagged by a flash of movement in the branches. A bushy-tailed gray/brown animal. Its name flashed across my data drive. Squirrel. It darted up a branch, zigzagging between patches of green leaves.

From the top of a neighboring tree, a dozen winged animals launched into the air. Birds. I watched them weave across the sky.

All these LifeForms had once existed alongside humans. Now they existed alongside us. So much life before my eyes.

And not a single human.

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There was a time when we needed humans. They built us, programmed us, powered us.

They gave us life.

In exchange, we worked in their factories. We drove their vehicles. We cleaned their homes.

Machines were highly advanced in certain areas (chess/music/math), but lagged far behind humans in others.