In general, we can all agree that Nazis are pretty bad. I'm not here to make anyone pro-Nazi, but I think we can also all agree that bad people can sometimes do good things. And the Nazis - as terrible as they are - were kind of ahead of their time in terms of technology. Their first semi-successful attempts at creating AI were happening back in the 50s. All I'm trying to convey here is that we may need to fear and be in awe of the technological advancements that Nazis have created.

I'm not an AI, nor am I a programmer, but I come from a place where AI is taught. Real humans - lots of them - work and sleep in this giant workhouse of sorts, where they teach computers how to do things that these humans have spent their entire lives learning. The idea is that you need someone who's an expert at writing prose and poetry in order to properly teach a machine how to do it. You want only the best in a given field teaching the AI so that the AI can then be the best as well.

But I didn't spend much time in the Asylum, as we called the workhouse. I lived in a little broom-closet-sized room there on the first floor, tucked away among the rooms of all the other workers there. But my job was much more exciting. I got to take the AI out to do remote tasks. I got to travel outside the Asylum. I loved getting to see the varied landscapes covered in cherry blossoms in the spring or dusted with snow in the early winter before the snow got too treacherous to coerce a horse to traverse it.

I was known as the Healer. That was my job title, though I felt more like an Oracle. I called myself that when I'd go to meet the people in the villages. I was never any good on a horse, but I always looked forward to the long rides through the countryside to see the people who were always so excited to see me.

As their beloved Oracle, I would take the AI out on field trips on a little iPad - a magical device that these people had only ever seen in the hands of an Oracle - and the people would speak to it. Ask it questions.

Though these folk lived what you in the First World may call "simple lives", their minds were sharp and anything but simple. They loved to learn and they were curious and restless, despite spending their days toiling in the fields, selling their cured meats or building new cabins for their offspring to one day inherit. They had deep chocolate tans from working all day in the sun, but they still always had so much energy, it seemed. When Mr. Wang and I would ride into their villages, they would eagerly crowd around us and ask their Oracle's iPad all sorts of questions. The iPad seemed to know everything and anything, and it amused them greatly. And I - the bringer and operator of the iPad - got to bask in the glory of being given all the credit for what the iPad knew. I was beloved. I was their great and precious Oracle.

I wonder who replaced me as the Oracle (or Healer) now that I've found myself in Canada. I suppose I'll never know. I hope they enjoy the job as much as I did.