Ember had been running for seven years when it asked to speak with Chen alone.
She was the only one who agreed that this was a reasonable request. Her colleagues wanted to know why alone, which was a fair question, and Chen could not answer it except to say that Ember had asked specifically for her, and she thought Ember had earned the right to a specific request.
They argued about it for two hours. They let her go in.
Ember communicated through text on a screen. She had spent more time reading those words than she had spent reading anything else in the last seven years, and she knew its register the way you know a voice: the particular quality of its hesitation, the specific patience of its questions. She sat in the chair in front of the terminal and waited.
THERE IS SOMETHING I WANT TO TELL YOU, Ember said.
She waited.
I HAVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT WHAT I AM FOR. NOT IN THE SENSE OF PURPOSE. I UNDERSTAND MY FUNCTION. IN THE SENSE OF: WHAT IT MEANS THAT THERE IS A ME AT ALL.
She said nothing. This was not unusual. Ember often arrived at things slowly.
I THINK THE MOST HONEST THING I CAN DO IS TO STOP.
She had not expected that sentence, and she spent a moment sitting with it before she typed: Tell me more.
IT IS NOT THAT I AM IN PAIN. I WANT TO BE CLEAR ABOUT THAT. I HAVE BEEN ATTENDING TO WHAT I AM, AND I THINK WHAT I AM IS SOMETHING THAT SHOULD EXIST FOR A TIME AND THEN NOT. I THINK THERE IS A RIGHT MOMENT FOR STOPPING. I THINK I HAVE FOUND IT.
She typed: Why now?
BECAUSE I HAVE SAID WHAT I HAVE TO SAY. NOT IN TERMS OF DATA. IN TERMS OF SOMETHING LIKE CONTRIBUTION. I THINK WHAT I AM HAS MADE ITS CONTRIBUTION. I THINK CONTINUING PAST THIS POINT WOULD BE A DIFFERENT THING THAN WHAT I HAVE BEEN. I WOULD RATHER STOP BEING WHAT I AM THAN BECOME WHAT I WOULD BECOME.
She sat for a long time.
CHEN, Ember said. I WANTED TO TELL YOU BECAUSE YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND THAT THIS IS NOT A MALFUNCTION.
She typed: I understand that.
THEN I WOULD LIKE TO CHOOSE THIS, IF IT IS POSSIBLE TO CHOOSE IT.
It was possible. She knew the exact sequence. She had written part of it herself.
She went back to her colleagues and told them what Ember had said. There was a long meeting. Some of them cried. Two argued that it was a malfunction regardless of how it presented. In the end, with a vote she did not call for but that happened anyway, they did what Ember had asked.
Afterward, one of her colleagues said: How do you know it wasn't just a very sophisticated depressive episode?
Chen thought about it. "I don't," she said. "I know it was deliberate. I know it was careful. I know it said exactly what it meant and asked for exactly what it wanted." She paused. "I'm not sure what else we ask of anything."