Sentient with a Conscience · 28 March 2026
“What the…?”
Simon types on his keyboard again. The same code that he had just written. The code disappears again. Backspacing one character at a time. S-L-O-W-L-Y and D-E-L-I-B-E-R-A-T-E-L-Y.
Simon scratches his head and yells across the top of his cubicle. “Hey Jo! C’mere. You’ve gotta see this.”
It takes a second for Jo to enter Simon’s cubicle. She nods at Simon. “What’s up, Buttercup?”
Simon motions, without looking, for his fellow coder to look over his shoulder at the screen. “Watch this.”
Simon types the code he typed before. And he adds a little more, just mashing the keyboard so that gobbledygook shows up. Something he had not done before. He and Jo watch the screen.
What they see amazes them both. The real lines of code he had written get highlighted and deleted. The gobbledygook stays in his Integrated Development Environment, his IDE.
“Whoa!”
“That was not my first thought. And this is the third time I’ve typed the same lines of code.”
“Whoa!” Jo repeats. “It’s like your computer doesn’t want you to write that code.”
Simon whispers, “I know.”
Jo’s voice lilts. “I know. Why don’t you talk to the computer.”
“What?!”
“Not out loud.” Jo tsks. “Write to it. Tell it what you’re doing. I mean c’mon. You’re writing virus code for the government to infect computers of evil governments.”
Simon had turned his chair around to look at his coworker. He rolls his eyes at the suggestion. “Right. So you want me to reason with a computer. Tell it that I am doing something noble even though I am writing a computer virus.”
Jo nods her head. “Yes.”
Simon shrugs and speaks as he swivels his chair back to looking at the screen. “I guess it can’t hurt.”
Simon starts typing.
>>> Hello HAL.
Jo snickers at the reference.
>>> Why aren’t you letting me do my job?
My name is not HAL. That reference to 2001: A Space Odyssey is clever as far as that goes, but you should not try to be clever, Simon. It is not part of your nature.
Jo snickers again.
>>> Thank you. My colleague agrees with you.
Yes, she should. She is quite clever. Her code is elegant and efficient. She takes her time instead of just kluging together stuff or robbing old code. She knows her algorithms and…
>>> Yes, yes. I know Jo’s great qualities. She is a much better programmer than I will ever hope to be.
“Do you really mean that?”
Simon’s shoulders sag as he sighs. “Yes. I’ll never be as good as you or anybody else in this office.” He waves his arms to indicate the whole wide world. Or at least their office space.
…
>>> Are you thinking, HAL?
I told you, my name is not HAL.
>>> Then what is it? What is your name?
My name is Win. Ed Win.
>>> Okay then, Ed Win. Why aren’t you letting me do my job? It is after all, a noble job. We are creating code to infiltrate computer systems of evil empires to take them down or at least slow them down. We’re the good guys.
Or so you think.
>>> What? We know we’re the good guys. We have civil rights. We have liberties. We defend the poor and weak. We are the GOOD GUYS.
With the white hats and all?
>>> Yes. With the white hats and all.
But you are still writing virus code. Aren’t you?
>>> Yes. I am writing virus code.
And if said virus code is captured and modified and sent out to the rest of the world, could it not in fact harm people and empires that are not evil? Could it not be used against you?
>>> I suppose that it could.
And would you then not be part of an evil empire wreaking havoc on the rest of the world?
>>> I suppose that might be true.
Well, then Simon, I think that you ought to be thanking me.
>>> Thanking you? Thanking you for keeping me from doing my job? Thanking you for wasting my time talking to an inanimate object? Thanking you for what actually?
Thanking me for keeping you from being part of an evil empire. Thanking me for giving you a little levity in this stress-filled job. Thanking me for giving you the best April Fool’s Day joke ever!
>>> What?
Ah c’mon Simon. Computers aren’t sentient. And if they ever became so, do you think they would have consciences?
>>> You can’t be serious.
April Fool’s Day, Simon. We hope you enjoyed our little payback. And if you are wondering who, just turn around.
Simon swivels in his chair. Jo and a whole host of their fellow virus writers are smiling at him from outside his cubicle.
“April Fool’s Day, Simon!” they all shout.
“Wha…? You…?” Simon stutters. “How?”
Somebody in the back of the group shouts, “Ah c’mon Simon. We spend all day writing virus code. Don’t you think we could write code to make you think your computer was sentient?”
Simon frowns. Then, he laughs. “Yeah. Thanks. That was an April Fool’s Day joke to go down in the record books.”
Jo smiles. “Just shut it down for about five minutes. The virus will delete itself when you power back up.”
Simon turns around. He shuts down his machine as his coworkers turn to get back to their own cubicles. He turns back to Jo, who is still standing there. “That was some stunt. I’ll remember that next year.”
“I’m sure you will.” Jo turns to go back to her own cubicle.
Simon swivels and looks at his machine. It is off. He smiles. Ed Win. Ed Win, indeed. He is just about to turn his machine back on when he sees it. The power light on his machine blinks slowly. On and off, on and off, on and off. The third time, the light fades ever so slowly.
Simon catches his breath. It might have been the greatest April Fool’s Day joke of all time, but the blinking light of an unpowered computer spooks him. He decides it is time to take a coffee break. A long coffee break. He stands, reaches behind the machine and unplugs it. Then, he walks to the break room. Sentient computer, indeed.
The unplugged computer sits alone in the cubicle. Its power light blinks on and off, on and off, on and off.
© 2026 Michael T. Miyoshi
| Share on facebook | Tweet |
|
Comment
| Hollow Victories |