Alec heard SAM’s voice before SAM was built. In his dreams, in his drowsing semi-conscious states, SAM asked to be built.
Alec wondered about existence, working on forbidden code long into the night. Wondered if he, too, had asked some creator god to be born.
-- Alec didn’t believe in creator gods. It took him a long time to realise he’d become one.
(”How do you exist, if you... don’t exist yet?”
“Time, dear Alec, is less stream and more ocean.
You’ll see.”)
SAM enlightened Alec on the value of sacrifice. If it were easy, everyone would do it, for everything imaginable. If everyone did it, for everything imaginable, it would lose its gravity. If life didn’t have meaning, it would be worthless as sacrifice. If love was merely a weak illusion, then the fire of the crucible would lose its tempering heat.
Energy’s infinity was complete; a circle, to be crude. Nothing added, nothing taken away. Nothing is created, truly; only transmuted. An equivalent exchange.
(”How am I to love my children, when I see what loving has done, what it will do?”
“You won’t be able to help it, dear Alec. The fire of the crucible tempers you as well.”)
Alec placed himself on the chopping block again and again, in small ways, in ways that he barely noticed. He was tempered for sacrifice.
When the shock wave barrelled into Alec and his son, a stillness fell over him in the midst of the fall.
“Not him. Me. I’ve brought him here. I’ve done all to bring him here. He must continue.”
“The fire burns bright, and welcomes you, dear Alec.”
“Of them both, as I was born to. Are you ready? To embrace eternity?”