— Iain M. Banksam able to give the appearance of life without being alive. It is not especially difficult.” “How do you do this?” “By being able to access my memories, by having trillions of facts and works and books and recordings and sentences and words and definitions at my disposal.” The old man looked at the ends of his fingers. “I am the sum of all my memories, plus the application of certain rules from a substantial command-set. I am blessed with the ability to think extremely quickly, so I am able to listen to what you, as a conscious, sentient being, are saying and then respond in a way that makes sense to you, answering your questions, following your meaning, anticipating your thoughts. “However, all this is simply the result of programs—programs written by sentient beings—sifting through earlier examples of conversations and exchanges which I have stored within my memories and selecting those which seem most appropriate as templates. This process sounds mysterious but is merely complicated. It begins with something as simple as you saying ‘Hello’ and me replying ‘Hello,’ or choosing something similar according to whatever else I might know about you, and extends to a reply as involved as, well, this one.”
Replicated under Fair Use from The Algebraist (Culture) by Iain M. Banks.