The Makers
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Alpha turned out to be the Benji's fate.
By and large, he was not interested in what the other "brothers" were made for, he didn't need to know someone else's purpose - perhaps because he was primarily a machine, albeit unusual.
The sixth Maker, who has to become his first passenger, was a linguist, professor of UCLA, an enthusiast of constructed languages.
"Hello," he said, looking around curiously the gondola. "I'm Josh."
"Hello, Josh," Benji responded, one of the DII yet.
"You are a pilot."
"Judging by the intonation, it's not a question," the android smiled.
"No," shook his head Maker. "I'm glad that you're the one who will be the pilot. I wanted exactly this.
"Why?" didn't understand Benji.
"Because you're a machine."
"So what?" again didn't understand Benji.
"You, the machines, don't have the different stuff that prevents people from thinking, and I don't have anyone to talk to," he patiently explained and waved his hand toward the open trapdoor "There is my baggage there."
***
"What do you think about languages?" asked the human, settling in the chair by the porthole.
In his anti-overload suit he looked like an athlete, who overfed by anabolic steroids.
"I've never thought of them before, Josh," Benji shrugged, tuning the ship and tuning himself. "But it seems to me that any language is just a system of signs, a way of dividing, fixing and transferring experience. Machine language, human - no difference. Perhaps, without some language, in its own, any experience is impossible."
"I think so too," the passenger nodded.
"I suspect," Benji continued, "that all my scripts are the languages that talk to themselves. Just like your DNA."
"Perhaps," Josh agreed. "I was here somehow trying to build a cross-compiler on Lojban. I highly recommend, - it's something between the brick and the cloud, with style and vigor."
"Thanks, I'll look," the android evasively replied.
***
When Alpha grew big enough for Benji to see her for the first time, he'd rummaged in his memory and remembered that he already remembered all this: the huge plate of the sole, and the titanic three-legged supports that grew into it, and the transparent hemisphere of the glassium dome, and the docking unit, waiting for him.
Benji didn't know how to be surprised, but even if he knew how to do it, he would hardly have been surprised at the sudden surge of knowledge: he never differentiated between his own and others' experience, there were just different experiences that had different extensions.
"By the way, about languages," Josh grinned, watching as Benji unpacks his memories. "What do you think about the names?"
"I think that they are a little different from other words. They leave space for a semantic vortex, associated with a personal relationship."
"Do you have a name?"
"I don't think so, Josh."
"That's right. Names are given to us by those who are our source. Read about the conlangs when you'll stay alone. Choose a name for yourself and become your own source.
"Ok," Benji agreed, getting into close proximity to Alpha.
"mi'a poi lo remna ku nelci lonu sisku loka simsa,"*Josh said, unfastening the suit from the passenger seat. ".i lonu ti kaiVAlias krasi cu simsa lonu sovda penmi .ije mi ba xe draci fe lonu lo nakni sovda kernelo cu gasnu vauzo'o"*
Benji didn't have any special interests in this matter, he simply needed the intelligibility of incoming signals and knew how to look for the answers.
The first thing he did upon his return to Earth was to arrange for himself the internet access through the central control room. After that he'd ran over the Lojban grammar, and finally downloaded the dictionary. In general, it took him about five minutes to learn the language, five more was spent choosing a name from the variety of Lojban words, after which he turned from a common faceless machine with the serial number into Benji.
The result, which the android received, with a good reason could be called a moral satisfaction.
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mi'a poi lo remna ku nelci lonu sisku loka simsa* -We, people, like to draw analogies. (Lojban)
lonu ti kaiVAlias krasi cu simsa lonu sovda penmi .ije mi ba xe draci fe lonu lo nakni sovda kernelo cu gasnu vauzo'o* -This beginning of kaivalya is very like a fertilization, in which I'm assigned the role of the male haploid nucleus. (Lojban)
11. 2330th year. Aia.
"Matt, Matt," Aia whispered, bending to her brother. "Let's finish your meal and go play."
"Uh-huh," Matt beamed.
As quickly as he could, he scraped the rests of porridge from the bowl, stuffed them into his mouth and nodded, which meant that he was ready: he loved when Aia was playing even more than when she was serious. Aia's game could mean anything.
"Put on your jacket and go," she whispered, getting up from the table. "It's evening there, cold and foggy."
The space outside the house was dark, foggy and cool. Matt was wearing a thick woolen jacket, and Aia was wearing a light blue sweater. In addition she had a backpack with all sorts of stuff.
"AARRGH..."something didn't even growled, but passed like a heavy shiver upon the ground, legs and spine. "AARRGH..."
"Oh!" Matt panted slightly.
The mist swayed and thickened. The shreds of fog floated among shaggy green houses and stars, keeping things from kids.