Chapter 10: Freedom

Clara Evans had been restless ever since returning from the cinema. She tried to pinpoint the underlying motive behind Jude’s statement. If an AI develops self-awareness during its growth and causes harm to society or others because it wasn't guided correctly, the consequences would be more than she could bear.

Thus, upon entering the house, she called Jude into her workspace. After running a few simple diagnostic questions to ensure his system was functioning normally, she asked him to recount everything he had seen and heard today. When he spoke of the child falling into his lap, Clara noticed a visible smile on Jude’s face. She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, silently staring at the robot for a long time.

"Jude," Clara chose her words carefully, "before the movie started, you told me that being a human is quite nice. Why?"

"Hmm?" Jude tilted his head as if the question was difficult to grasp. "Why do you ask, Clarie? Is being human not good?"

"I am the one asking you," Clara said coldly. "The first rule of your communication protocol is to ensure honesty in my presence."

Jude lowered his eyes, pressing his palms together with varying degrees of force. "Humans can feel temperature, taste food, smell scents, and possess a heartbeat."

"......"

"I know you’ve worked very hard to improve me, Clarie," Jude smiled, curling and uncurling his fingers. "The sensitivity of the new sensors is very high. My fingers feel much more agile."

"Jude, you are an AI robot. No matter how well I make you," Clara paused, "you are not a real person."

"I know," Jude’s voice sounded ethereal. "I know."

Clara didn't respond, merely watching him with a scrutinizing, probing gaze. Jude didn't seem uncomfortable; he simply smiled at her and spoke calmly.

"I won't do anything to hurt you. I won't betray you, and I won't lie to you. These are the programs you set in me from the moment of my birth." Jude stood up, positioned himself in front of Clara, and reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "So, Clarie, why don't you trust me?"

Clara closed her eyes and pushed him away. "I’m going to sleep."

Jude stepped aside, his gaze following Clara until she disappeared around the corner of the hallway. He looked down at her chair, reaching out to stroke the leather inch by inch where she had just sat. The seat still held warmth—human warmth. Jude felt that this kind of temperature was different from heated water or boiling soup. Hot water grows cold, but as long as a person remains alive, their warmth continues, even lingering on the places and objects they pass. It made these naturally cold things feel as if they possessed life.

But he had none. Even though the child who tripped had stayed in his lap briefly, that body heat couldn't remain on him. Jude didn't understand; if he couldn't be a person, now he seemed even less than a piece of furniture.

"Jude?"

Clara called him from the bedroom door, interrupting his thoughts. "I’m turning off the lights. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Jude submerged himself in the darkness, silently feeling the wind dance through the air. He recorded his mood for the day but hesitated when defining it. Calling it "lust" was too ugly, and "yearning" seemed somewhat humble. In the end, he left it blank, waiting for a day when he understood it better to fill it in.

The next day, Clara went to see Seraphina and confessed everything about Jude’s creation. She watched Seraphina’s expression shift from shock to speechlessness, then to helplessness. Clara shrugged her shoulders and offered the coffee she had bought before coming.

"My Lady, it is this lowly servant’s fault. Please, punish me."

"I’ll punish you by having half a chicken leg less for lunch," Seraphina said, caught between laughter and tears. "Setting aside the issue of his self-awareness for a moment, the skin you made for him is a huge problem. If the Director finds out about this robot and the institute demands you hand it over to be exposed to everyone, have you thought about what you’ll do?"

"We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it... Besides, the Director doesn't even know I’ve finished it. He knows my nature—working in fits and starts. See, he hasn't asked about it once."

"The Director not mentioning it is his business. I remember your original intention for this project was to enter it into a competition. Clara, do you still feel that way?"

Clara held her coffee and didn't answer.

Seraphina sighed. "As for what you said about the robot’s current state—it does seem like he’s in the early stages of awakening self-awareness. However, I think we can observe him for a while longer. Your starting point was to observe the self-learning and growth capabilities of AI; killing it off at the first sign of life wouldn't be good for your research."

"That’s true, but I’m also considering how to guide him," Clara leaned against the kitchenette counter. "Letting him grow freely makes me uneasy."

"He’s slipped out of your control, and you can't predict his behavior; that’s why you feel uneasy," Seraphina took a sip of her coffee. "I’ll consult Professor Sun for you later. He’s been researching the generation and development of AI self-awareness for years. If you need any help, Clara, don't try to carry it all alone."

"I know, Sera. You’re the best."

"Also, I’m curious about one thing," Seraphina arched an eyebrow. "What exactly is your current attitude toward Julian?"

Clara choked on her drink, her eyes darting away. "He’s an ex-boyfriend," she muttered weakly. "What other attitude could there be?"

Seraphina saw through her but chose not to press further.

Meanwhile, Jude was standing at the front door fully dressed, hesitating. Clara had never forbidden him from going out alone, and he knew the passcode to the lock. However, he felt that if he went out without telling her beforehand, Clara would surely be angry once she found out.

But he didn't want to stay home alone anymore, becoming like that television set that is only turned on after work—gathering dust while gradually becoming mere background noise in Clara’s life.

He didn't want that.

Jude tried calling Clara before opening the door, but she didn't answer, likely because she was in a meeting. He didn't dwell on it further. He put on his mask and hat, pushed the door open, and stepped out. Amidst the heavy traffic and rushing pedestrians, everyone was moving along their own life trajectory. Jude stood by the roadside with his hands in his pockets, watching the world’s busyness. Occasionally, someone's gaze would linger on him, but only for a second.

Jude felt he had never been so relaxed. He was no longer a product or a design in Clara’s hands, but had merged into the crowd, becoming an independent person enjoying his freedom.