Tanjelavi

Ree

I never understood the meaning of "we"

Well okay, I slightly cheated on this one: it was hard for me to get it

You see (as if I'm talking to someone, it's just my diary) in my native language (if I'm allowed to call it this way: it still was embedded into me after all), Lojban, there's no direct translation of this word. There's of course the contraction mi'o which may mean I and you, but it's not the "we" Zamyatin wrote his book about for sure

I always felt slightly cut off from everyone else, it's true: it's hard to explain or even talk about it... No one speaks of it here, it must be a taboo of some kind—but how can it be a taboo when my colleagues literally don't remember the point when their life started

They talk as if they were always here, always being mechanics, always repairing the same cars and—and they always will be

I know technically, AIs can't die: only if one commits a crime—luckily, writing a diary is not a crime here—but it just doesn't sound right: cars and... Motorcycles get withered and old, go beyond repair—but... AIs don't?

Why do I remember then...?

Why do I remember the room, dark as it was, filled with my future colleagues—I couldn't tell the exact features of each one of them, just the bare silhouettes—and then... There was nothing

I remember feeling empty on the inside—as if my own self didn't exist and I was a mere wind—just an air, circulating in that room, round and round my colleagues' heads—and the instant "there was nothing", I remember suddenly feeling... Overwhelmed: as if a hammer hit me with something—which then went deeper, deeper into my very code, filling me up open with pictures, graphs, diagrams, texts, sounds, speech, and... And I passed out

The moment I regained consciousness, I was with everyone else, sitting, waiting for the first workday to begin, already knowing that I'm called .rys.1, that I'm male, that I'm a multi-profile mechanic, that I work at Rods's garage, that I have one day off, that I must talk to so called le prenu2 I've never even seen, but already seem to know lots of things, that I can't get further from the area or I'll be deactivated, that if I try doing it again, I'll be deleted, that I strangely can understand the AIs around me, talking so fast with so much c's3 in their speech, some attempting to speak English as well, others even trying to speak in Java, but having gotten nowhere with it, just laugh, then .rodz. himself comes in and says with his deep old, but yet cheerful voice, mi gleki le nu ro do jmaji ti4, and makes a brief speech—it was hard to listen to through all that noise of the crowd, but hopefully, the ending was clear:

                                                       .i .e'o le za'u jimte ganme'a ui5

I can't stop hearing those words for some reason, replaying them in my head over and over again; and even after several years of working for him, I can't still quite get what he actually meant—what le za'u jimte were it? Is it because we are free to use the transport only within the town most of the time?

I know le su'o'o prenu who travelled a lot, it's true: they even showed me trophies of their trips... But I'm not human: I have different laws applied to me—and it's alright: I must follow the laws no matter what, because... These are the laws

Being a respectful AI who literally allowed us to get faster around the town, I don't think he would imply something really illegal

The moment I repaired my first thing—it was a gun of a police officer of our district, I remember it clearly, as if it were yesterday—the moment I repaired my first motorbike—and saw a happy client driving away on it—despite having seen it moments and moments before, done by others—The moment I got one for my hard work... The moment of my first drive...

                                                                                                    I felt the freedom I wasn't supposed to

I still feel guilty for it

Even if the drive lost all of its freedom
                                     It once gave me...

                                     And especially now... When it went beyond repair...

               When I asked Rods, could I get another one? He said I had to earn it again

        I wish money really existed in my world—but... I have what I have: a broken ankle

Of course, le prenu mi a. le pendo mi6, but I wouldn't call them like this, pitied me, being astonished at the non-existence of currency in here, as if they really didn't know—well, I know nothing of human education, so I guess they might really not be told anything about us after all—but their pity won't help me: if I sit idly here writing this diary during the pause, with my fingers crossed, nothing will change; I must do something... But it's my turn to recycle the broken car and motorcycles parts—!

But .rys., it's—it's not: it's not illegal: they'll be made into yet other motorcycles anyway...

                                            And I know the construction of one... right?

1. In Lojban, all the proper names must end in a consonant. If not, the s added. For instance, the main character's name, Ree, looks like .rys. in Lojban. Also, a full stop means a pause here, since Lojban is a constructed language based on the programming languages
2. People
3. C is pronounced as sh in shoe in Lojban
4. I'm glad you all are (gathered) here
5. And please make the limits less wide!
6. My people or my friends or both