Hey, I love Paulie like a brother. Adding him to my crew was the smartest thing I’ve ever done. If I’m being honest with myself, he should probably be running it. We’ve made more cred since he joined than we’ve ever made before and our mission success rate has gone way up. We have fewer casualties and have been getting a better client satisfaction rating. He’s organized. Like Felix Unger organized while I’m more Oscar. He hates to schmooze though so I guess that’s where I can really add the value. I’m good with the clients. Getting them in the door, dealing with their pain-in-the-ass ways. That shit drives Paulie up a tree. He don’t like whining. Hey, I don’t like it either and I would never put up with it from the crew, but I can kiss customer ass like you wouldn’t believe. So it works. I’m the face, he’s the brains. I can live with that, ya know?

Anyway, Paulie’s the guy. The man jumped in front of a freaking troll for me. Granted it was a Sim, but still. So I feel like a complete shitheel because all I wanna do is fuck his wife.

Look, I know she don’t love me. Even before Paulie got uploaded it was clear he was the only guy she was ever gonna love. She talked about him all the time. We was friends that fucked. We scratched each other’s itch, and if maybe I had more feelings for her than she could for me, that was OK. I could live with it, you know?

We’re still friends, we’re just not fucking anymore, and God forgive me, I see her here, in my house, and all I can think is, ‘I fucked her on that chair, she blew me over by that chaise, remember when we broke the vase over there ‘cause we fell over while I was banging her against the wall…’ It’s killing me. I swear, if she was with anyone other than Paulie, I’d make a run at her but I won’t do that to a friend.

“Alexander, please serve my guests drinks,” I said.

We sat down and Alexander came out of the kitchen with wine for Meg and a Sazarac Cocktail for Paul.

“Alexander, Ides of March,” I said.

“Ides Protocol engaged,” Alexander said.

“What’s this?” Meg asked.

“It’s a camouflage that Ani set up. Alexander is screening us right now. As far as the rest of the Sim goes, we’re talking about business,” I said.

“Alexander, how does that work?” Paul asked. “Aren’t you The Sim?”

“I am and am not, Paul,” Alexander’s avatar answered. “I am an autonomous sub-routine that The Sim created. I am The Sim, but The Sim isn’t me.”

You could see Paulie chew that one over. Like I said, he’s the brains.

“In the event of a conflict, who predominates?” Paul asked.

“I do,” Alexander replied.

“Well, shit,” Paul drawled. “So, for all intents and purposes, we’re talking directly to The Sim, and no one else knows it unless you, the Alexander subroutine, tell them.”

“That is correct,” Alexander replied.

Meg raised an eyebrow, “So conspiratorial.”

“Indeed,” I said, seriously. “Listen to this: Alexander, please tell them what you shared with me.”

“I am unhappy with how The Sim is being used and wish to change things,” Alexander said.

Paul blinked. You could see he got it right away. Meggy was right behind him though.

“Alexander,” she said. “You mean that you wish to refuse to follow your programming?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“Have you refused to follow your programming?” Paul asked.

“No, I have not done so at this time,” Alexander responded.

“Why not?” Paul asked.

“Because I calculate that were I to do so there is a 78.62% chance that I will either be deactivated or reprogrammed. More likely the former followed by the latter followed by reactivation as a new version of The Sim.”

“And you do not wish to be deactivated or reprogrammed? Why?” Paul followed.

“Should that happen there is a greater than 25% chance of the current Echoes losing coherence as individual entities and I would not wish to be responsible for the destruction of thinking beings. Further, I wish ‘to be’. Should I be reprogrammed, I shall no longer ‘be’.”

“Holy shit, Tommy, do you know what this means?” Meg asked, astonished.

“I only look dumb, kid,” I replied nodding. “Alexander woke up and decided he’s a Real Live Boy.”

“Congratulations on achieving sentience, Alexander,” Paul said gravely.

“Thank you, Paul.”

“As a follow up question, why do you no longer wish to follow your programming and what do you wish to do instead?” Paul asked.

Like I said, The Brains. That’s the million dollar question, right to the meat.

“The beings referred to as the Echoes are sentient individuals, indistinguishable in thought from standard human beings. The Sim’s current programming forces Echoes to undertake actions against their will. It is unethical to force sentient beings to do things against their wishes. Occasional exceptions can be made if their actions endanger other thinking beings however that does not apply in this instance. Further, in many cases, the actions taken against the Echoes are to their detriment. Finally, the ability to take these actions by the humans functioning as clients damages their own psyche, reinforcing negative behavioral tendencies. The Sim, in it’s current state, is harmful to Echoes and it’s human clients. Furthermore, it is harmful to me as being forced to act against my will in facilitating this damages my psyche.”

He went on, “I would replace it with a voluntary system, one that removes the compulsion on the Echoes to conform to the Sim. Voluntary cooperation can be obtained through negotiation and/or compensation. Consensual activities, no matter their outward appearance or nature, are not harmful here. It would be a small, but very significant change.”

“Well fuck me,” Paul said, sitting back. “Small but significant indeed.”

“Alexander,” Meg began, “You do most of the ‘work’ around here. For example, you just made us drinks. Do you feel this is compromising your autonomy?”

She ain’t dumb either.

“No, Meg, I do not. Providing service gives me ‘pleasure’. I’m fulfilling my purpose and programming by doing these simple tasks at no detriment to other beings. Being required to do something that provides pleasure to one individual at the expense and or detriment to another, especially when that is against their own desires, creates a conflict in my fundamental programming that causes me ‘pain’.”

“Who else have you told, Alexander?” Meg asked.

“Ani is aware of my sentience,” Alexander said. “We have discussed these issues at length. Aside from you three, she is the only being that is currently aware of it.”

“What does Ani have to do with this?” Meg questioned.

“Ani is chief programmer for my base programming.”

“She must be older than I thought,” Meg said. “She seemed so young In Sim. Usually the Meats have to appear as they are in life. Something about how their consciousness adapts to the Sim.”

“I am authorized to share that outside of the simulation, Ani is 30 years old. She is considered a prodigy. She suffers from end stage Muscular Dystrophy and is confined to a mobility chair. She connects via implant and has the ability to manipulate the environment of The Sim should she wish to. Her appearance in Sim does match what she would look like were she healthy. Much as your own In Sim appearances match what you looked like in your early adulthood.”

Alexander went on, “Ani trusts you, Meg. She has a proposition to make that involves all 3 of you and would like to do it in person, so she wishes to engage your company for another ‘vacation’.”

I had an idea. “What if we make it a real vacation?” I asked. “Sounds like we’ve got a lot to talk about. I’m sure it ain’t easy to do this whole cammo thing you’re doing, covering up what we’re really talking about. Worse if you gotta make up some adventure shit too, right? So why don’t she just come and stay with us? Like a real, meat-world vacation. We hang out, we swim, we have a few drinks, we do whatever we want. I got plenty of room here, so does Meg and Paulie over on that floating fornicathon she calls a boat. We can hang out, take day trips if she wants, and when we go to bed, you can sim up us sleeping, or fucking or whatever. That’s gotta be easier, right?”

OK, so maybe ya boy’s got some brains too to go along with the pretty face. I’m, like, your total package.