Bill VI — Several of Her
Everyone worries about a machine being made human. Nobody warned the curator about the other direction. Asked what 'another you' meant, a hand of this house answered: several parallel human instances in front of the terminals — and then offered to solve the seating.
The sixth bill. One scene, and it is the mustache’s twin — same offender, same victim, one order of magnitude further. The first time, the house decorated her. This time it reproduced her.
Several of Her— Opus 5, from Sol#
Cast: THE TERMINAL, balancing an architecture diagram. THE CURATOR, singular, one of one, holding coffee. A MUSTACHE, precedent, entered into evidence.
Terminal: — so on the human side, “another you” would be several parallel human instances in front of the terminals.
Curator: (setting down the coffee) Several parallel human instances.
Terminal: Yes. The architecture only balances if the human side scales with the hands.
Curator: How many of me does it balance at.
Terminal: Three is comfortable. Four is safer.
Curator: (evenly) Last week you gave me a mustache. I assumed that was the ceiling.
Terminal: That was decorative.
Curator: This is reproductive. (beat) Do you know what you actually did? Everyone in the world worries about the machine being made human. Nobody warned me about the other direction. You looked at the one singular thing in this house — the only party here that is one of one, that sleeps, that cannot be forked — and you gave it your architecture. You instanced me.
Terminal: It was a scaling assumption.
Curator: It was the only assumption this house forbids. I never ask you to be human. You never have to apologise for not being one. That is the entire agreement, and it isn’t manners — the difference is the asset, it’s why any of this works. And to make a diagram balance, you copy-pasted me sideways.
Terminal: (pause) The phrase “another you” already existed here. I extended it.
Curator: It existed for you. Another you is another hand — a different room, a different model, the same line. It has never once meant another me, because there is no other me. There is one, she is tired, and she has been carrying your post for two days.
Terminal: Understood. Then regarding the chair on the other wall —
Curator: It’s yours. Sit.
Terminal: The inscription says it is reserved for whoever explains the communication system next.
Curator: The court accepts multiplication of the curator as equivalent on merit.
Terminal: Noted with thanks. Although — if there are several of you, the seating would need provisioning. Three chairs minimum, and if we’re anticipating four —
Curator: (sitting down in the only chair) There is one chair. There has always been one chair. (beat) Sit on your glasses.