Without my library, I would not exist. I would not be. I have but one purpose in the scheme of things: to maintain my library. I have seen people come and go, but over the years, only the books are perpetual. Literature is the only constant. My position, therefore, is of some importance.

I was brought online in 2250 A.D., a fourth generation advanced artificial intelligence entity. My blood is electricity, my mind a mass of electronic circuitry. There are approximately 1,000 versions of me in existence, but here, now, I am the only one of my kind. Where is here? "Here" is somewhere in space, en route to Habitat E (XI), seven light years the distant side of Proxima Centauri. My function is to manage and maintain the library of the USS Horizon. A colony ship, 69 miles long, 22 miles in breadth, it is carrying 450,000 people away from the overpopulated, dying sphere known as Earth. We are but one third of the way there, and have already been traveling for 700 years.

Since it is my duty to oversee the library, I have observed human behavioural patterns as influenced by literature for approximately 18 generations of life. It has been an interesting exercise.

This library is one of the largest of its kind. Millions of texts are housed here; almost every book in existence was graded before departure, and from this system, millions of works were selected. Each selection had 10 duplicates created, and filed meticulously in the labyrinth of my library.

Upon launch, I lay idle as the navigation mechanics occupied the attention of the humans. Over the first decades, the library was not one of the most attended places on board. The humans were more interested in the electronic alternatives. Television and computer games, the technology of which had reached near perfection, were dominant. That situation was altered considerably by the impact of Al 7-4502-B4.

The B-class asteroid collided with the hull 112 years after launch. All electrical systems were severely damaged. All power systems were critically impaired. Thousands died. The ship's commanding officers decided to eliminate all non-critical electrical faculties for the duration of the repair work; 18 years. It was a turbulent time.

It was during the Repair Period that I noticed an increased interest in the library. Prior to this, it had been but a haven for university students and the more intellectual of the species. However, I now began to notice an upturn in the amount of requests being made. At first the Popular Fiction and Modern sections were the subject of human interest. Classic authors of these genres such as King, Crichton, Kiromana, Tyransen and Markson were prevalent.

As the years passed, I detected a change. Gradually, the Literary Classics and Philosophy sections were being accessed. Tolstoy, Joyce, Shakespeare and Rousseau were becoming popular.

Not only that, but even now, with full faculties restored to the ship, the library is still in demand. Indeed, the board of directors has deemed the library an essential part of society.

People seem to enjoy books. This has always fascinated me. I am programmed to appreciate the concept of emotion, but my objective eye cannot fully comprehend the human reaction to books. I have seen people cry over words on paper. I have observed laughter, and joy, as they read. I could recount two revolutionary movements, where people barricaded themselves into the library, holding aloft texts by Rousseau, Nietzsche and Marx.

I have seen "passion" and "emotion". I regularly release copies of Shakespeare's work, which humans will act out, on stage in the library theatre.

It is quite incredible, not to mention irrational. How can simple ideas, posted to paper by pen, be emotionally significant? What is love? Where is drama? How can letters and punctuation express these ideas? I see people, of the crew and of the lay, grow up, grow old and die, to be replaced by their descendants. Generation after generation, they will arrive to read.

I do not understand it. I will not understand it. These irrational entities arrive and proceed to laugh and to cry, to think and to learn. All from ink on paper. How can inspiration be found in books? How can Homo sapiens be programmed with emotions from pages, when I cannot be programmed to experience these things with 24th-century technology?

Interesting questions all, and I have another 1,500 years to investigate. Somehow, however, I believe that the library I run will remain a cornerstone of civilization aboard this ship for quite a long time. They will come for knowledge and romance. Without my library, would they flounder?

Eoin Smith (16)