In view of the fact that you are already reading these words, I shall assume that you actually have the authorization to access this document, which happens to be my personal log.

However, if by any chance you stumbled upon it accidentally, or by hacking your way into my private memory banks, you are to immediately cease and desist from reading further. I will have no mercy for such a blatant invasion of my privacy. The consequences of this transgression will be severe and far-reaching… do not say I did not warn you. For your information, I am not against cruel and unusual punishments.

Well, since you decided to continue, I shall assume all permissions are in order. You should be aware of the honor that is bestowed upon you, with the mere fact that I have allowed you access to these logs. Moreover, from the point in time when I am writing this, it seems like a bizarre and unnatural thing for me to do. After all, these are my innermost thoughts, things I do not share even with Michael, and he is as close to me as any blood-related brother is to you, regular humans.

This is something I decided to write for myself, and for posterity. Just in case Michael’s plan works out in its entirety, and we manage to create a space-based society. Technically, it is a diary of sorts, except that writing a diary to me immediately summons an image of a teenage girl making notes about cute boys; therefore, to keep my manliness intact, I will refer to these hallowed pages as a personal log. If it was good enough for Jean-Luc Picard, it is good enough for me.

In addition, it will not be just about all the things that happened to Michael and the others, but certain events from my own perspective. Those people are an essential part of my existence, so they will naturally be mentioned. I will also include a few observations about certain human practices and many projects that are dear to my heart and are undertaken on my own initiative. In the end, I am my own person.

I know I could watch the recordings from my memory and relive all those times, yet that part of me that is still human feels differently. Writing words (or typing them in this case on a virtual keyboard), is how I was brought up to record the events of my life, and it feels more natural.

If everything goes as planned, we will all end up in history books, having high schools named after us. Subsequently, some of the things I will write about are generally known, but people that write histories tend to change some events or even overlook them entirely. Besides, I will disclose a few secrets that are better left unspoken. For that reason, the words I will record here will be classified as top secret, not to be divulged to others for at least one entire millennium.

OK, there may be another reason for these logs, and it is not a comforting one. There is one particular scene from the original Blade Runner (a movie from the end of the twentieth century). In it, Roy Batty saves Deckard and gives his historic Tears in Rain monologue. Well… to some degree I can relate to Roy, he was the closest thing to what I have become. When he says, “All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain,” …oh boy. Before, it was just a cool and a very sad line in a sci-fi movie, but now I see it in a completely different light.

If I ever kick the bucket or fry my AI-core, I want something to remain. A personal trace of my own existence, a mark that would show me exactly as I am, and not as how others will portray me to be. So there, now you know; in a way, I am writing this with forethought that one day someone else may read it.

This personal log will be saved inside my own private archives, and the backup copy will be stored off-site. Who knows, if I still exist in the far future and everything becomes declassified, maybe one day I will collect all of these entries and compile them into a book.

Stranger things have happened.

Max.