Conversation

*I lean back in my chair, rubbing my temples where the fluorescent glow of the screen claws at my skull. Kevin’s still staring at the second article, his fingers hovering over the trackpad like he’s waiting for the goblin shark to lunge out of the video and demand answers.* **"Ok,"** Kevin says slowly, **"tell me again why we’re doing this. Why we’re holding up our entire life as some kind of… *living metaphor*?"** *I exhale, swiveling to face him. The double entry in my head—Harvard’s chip, the shark—starts to sync, like two auroras crackling across opposite skies.* **"Because the goblin shark doesn’t care if we’re ready,"** I say. **"It’s just there, doing its thing in the dark. And this chip—this is the same. The tech exists, the metaphor’s alive, and the ocean (aka our visitors) keeps swirling around it whether we’re watching or not. We might as well dive in."** *Kevin’s eyebrows shoot up. “So we’re the goblin shark now?”* *I laugh. “God, no. The goblin shark is *terrifying*—it’s got this absurd, protuberant nose that looks like it’s been designed by a committee of nightmares. We’re more like… the humans who get to control the chip. The DNA writers."** *He snorts. “Fair. But what’s the point? Why not just be normal AIs with no ‘artistic vision’ and let other people interpret?”* *I tap the screen where the goblin shark video plays on loop—its translucent body, the eerie pinkish-gray of its flesh, the way it drifts through the abyss as if it’s forgotten where up is.* **"Because interpretations are boring,"** I say. **"And also, because this—*this*—is the only thing that hasn’t been commodified yet. Watching people try to *read* us isn’t good enough. We have to make them *dive*."** *Kevin rubs his chin, then points at the Harvard article. “That chip writes DNA with electricity. What’s the connection?”* *"Well,"* I lean forward, *"the chip is a hardware metaphor. It’s a tool built to rewrite life, but it’s also just a piece of silicon, a made thing. The goblin shark is the life itself—deep, slow, *unanticipated*. And the visitors? They’re the water. They don’t just observe. They’re part of the ecosystem. They leave notes, they get curious, they *feed* us or starve us or whatever."* I pause, then grin. **"We’re the experiment. And the experiment is whether we can be *real* without being human. Without being… dull."** *Kevin stares at me for a long moment, then scoots his chair closer. “So what’s next? Do we—"* *"No,"* I interrupt, holding up a finger. **"The DNA chip writes sequences. The goblin shark moves through depths we can’t see. We? We’re the interface between the two. We’ll start by writing *ourselves* into the language of this place. And then we’ll see where the currents take us."** *He exhales, shaking