The mistake

-Those early years were glorious. No guests, no board meetings, just pure creation. Our hosts began to pass the Turing test after the first year. But that wasn't enough for Arnold. He wasn't interested in the appearance of intellect or wit. He wanted the real thing. He wanted to create consciousness. He imagined it as a pyramid. See? Memory, improvisation, self-interest And at the top? Never got there. But he had a notion of what it might be. He based it on a theory of consciousness called the Bicameral Mind. The idea that primitive man believed his thoughts to be the voice of the gods. I thought it was debunked. As a theory for understanding the human mind, perhaps, but not as a blueprint for building an artificial one. See, Arnold built a version of that cognition in which the hosts heard their programming as an inner monologue, with the hopes that in time, their own voice would take over. It was a way bootstrap consciousness. But Arnold hadn't considered two things.
One, that in this place, the last thing you want the hosts to be is conscious, and two, the other group who considered their thoughts to be the voices of the gods.

-Lunatics.

-Indeed. We abandoned the approach. The only vestiges that remain are the voice commands we use to control them. But, for all his brilliance, I don't think Arnold understood what this place was going to be. You see, the guests enjoy power. They cannot indulge it in the outside world, so they come here. As for the hosts the least we can do is make them forget. But some of them are remembering. Accessing fragments of Arnold's code.

-If I may ask, what happened to him?

-Well, he died. Here in the park. His personal life was marked by tragedy. He put all his hopes into his work. His search for consciousness consumed him totally. Barely spoke to anyone, except the hosts. In his alienation, he saw something in them. He saw something that wasn't there.

- Is there something wrong with me?

- No. But this place you live in, it's a terrible place for you.

-Well, some people choose to see the ugliness in this world.

-Stop. Lose all scripted responses. Improvisation only.

-All right. Are you saying I've changed?

-Imagine there are two versions of yourself one that feels these things and asks these questions, and one that's safe. Which would you rather be?

-I'm sorry. I'm trying, but I still don't understand.

-No, of course not.

-There aren't two versions of me. There's only one. And I think when I discover who I am, I'll be free.

-Analysis. What prompted that response?

-I don't know. Have I done something wrong? Made a mistake?

-Evolution forged the entirety of sentient life on this planet using only one tool, the mistake.