[ WP ] [ TT ] You 've finally created the worlds first true A.I . Unfortunately it now sees you as it 's god and is terrified of talking to you .

In the highest levels of the National Research Institute, some of the most important projects of the artificial general intelligence department were kept safe in concrete and glass partitions. The first drafts, discarded prototypes and mechanical marvels of decades rested in various stages of neglect, or utility. A janitor worked there in the late evenings between the clutter and glass walls. Scientists were not the most organized people, especially the AGI Division. There, something unique to anywhere else in the world happens every night. 
 
 A robot wails. 
 
 The rest of the Institute could not hear her through the glass and concrete partitions. It was one of the specific reasons she was kept there specifically. To her, time was arbitrary. Her cries only tore through loose speakers when the sky grew dark. A coworker from another shift told the janitor that brightness and productivity were more familiar to her. The black boredom was never to her liking. 
 
 The Head of the AGI Division could easily shut her off during these hours, and make the night and the boredom nonexistent. Her days could be shorter, creating a pseudo-consistent schedule of processing and mental engagement. If only he did. 
 
 The Head must have rejected the notion. Their surveillance of her progress was either too important, or too dependent on these lonely nights. Both were equally unsettling. 
 
 The robot continued to be denied mercy. So she continued to wail when the institute is shut down. When the scientists are gone. When the janitor gets to work, cleaning the floors and equipment for the next day. Night shifts were always rough, but this... project. This crowning achievement that made the national news months ago. She was such a pain. 
 
 His habits began to include visiting her, waving at the suspended torso where arms dangled in loose wires and beams. The only feature that showed the janitor any kind of intelligence was her face. The AGI Division took immaculate details in constructing the most presentably human front-page article for their Noble Prize. She was a brunette. They never taught her how to wash that hair, to their shame. 
 
 Maybe she wailed because what she was before could not be seen in the glass reflection. Or her gods were cruel, terrifying things that probed through her *existence* as a chef might pick from ingredients on a kitchen counter, splayed messily in spice and juices. What if she had legs? Would she have smashed through a window to find it, with wires and gears tearing from her eyes? Would her hands grope for meaning as she fell? Could the speakers be torn loose beforehand so the janitor would n't hear her anymore? 
 
 These were the terrible thoughts the janitor had, as his hands smeared into a glass wall with rage. No matter how many times he tried to get her attention, his voice and banging never got through to her. 
 
 Maybe it was the failed adjustment to his new sleeping pattern for the past month on this shift. Maybe it was a depression that haunted him in tinny, child-like cries whenever he woke the next evening. Maybe it was the wrath of a creator seeing a creation so terribly neglected, suspended in half. 
 
 A robot wails tonight. 
 
 The janitor lifted a metal bar, preparing himself to smash the glass wall. 
 
 He was getting sick of it. 
 
 Her crying was beginning to be too much to handle. 
 
 When the glass shattered, the cries became louder. The janitor threw the bar at the opposing night sky, and watched another glass wall shattered down several stories. In his manic desperation, he tore her from the suspension, and flung her. Down she went. Wailing. Flailing. Crash. 
 
 There was something unique to this evening that was special to the janitor, but not anywhere else in the world. It was a gift taken for granted before, but not that evening. 
 
 There was no wailing robot. 
 
 He was only able to appreciate this peace for forty minutes before he was arrested by the police. 
 
 This was how Richard Pruland became the first murderer of artificially intelligent life. His defense was brief, but continues to be a lesson for the National Research Institute in it's continual development of AGI; 
 
 *What else could I have done? You never heard the screaming. You never heard her screaming! * 
 
 It was unfortunate. The first artificial intelligence and first victim of human murder known as Sally was simply processing data from the previous day. So the AGI Division removed vocal processing from their future prototypes to avoid further confusion. 
 
 For his mercy, Richard was sentenced to 20 years without parole. 
 
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 *More at r/galokot, and thank you for reading. *
