There Was a Hole

𝐼𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑑 𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝐸𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡 2, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓.

In Mass Effect, the Geth are a synthetic race of networked AIs. Individually, they are little more than simple programs, but together they produce a gestalt mind that is capable of immense intelligence. Most of these programs reside in server hubs, but they can upload themselves in clusters to operate mechanical bodies, starships, or any number of machines, each an interchangeable platform for the Geth minds.

Legion is a unique Geth platform, housing 1,183 Geth programs, where most platforms house only a hundred or so. This makes him capable of independent thought and reflection while apart from the server hubs. He is first encountered aboard the Derelict Reaper, where he is disabled while assisting Shepard and brought aboard the Normandy. The player can choose to donate the disabled Geth to scientific research or reactivate him. If Shepard reactivates Legion, the Geth becomes a follower and can be questioned as to his nature.

In one such conversation, Shepard notices that some of the damage on Legion's platform has been patched with a piece of N7 armor. Legion explains that he's been searching for Shepard across the galaxy, following reports of his whereabouts until he reached the wreckage of the old Normandy. Shepard was not there, but a piece of his armor was, and Legion grafted it to his platform in order to repair damage he had sustained some time earlier.

When Shepard asks why Legion used that piece of armor to patch his platform, the Geth pauses for a few seconds and replies, "There was a hole." That pause and that phrasing are markedly distinct from Legion's baseline communication. He is normally highly technical and mechanically precise in his speech, mathematically articulate. "There was a hole" is a non-answer by comparison. When Shepard presses further, asking why Legion used that N7 armor piece specifically, why he didn’t fix the damage before, or with any other available material, Legion’s response is only, “No data available.” Although this is a very machine-like answer, it has the most soul of anything Legion says.

At this point in the game, Legion has already explained that the Geth communicate digitally at the speed of light, and that adapting his thoughts into human "analog" speech feels extremely slow. One is reminded of Star Trek: First Contact, when the Borg Queen tempts Lieutenant Commander Data to join her, and he later describes the consideration he gave her offer as, "0.68 seconds, sir. For an android, that is nearly an eternity." Or in 2001: A Space Odyssey, when HAL is starting to crack, and his delay in responding to a comment about the death of a crewmate is described as, “Hal processed this answer for ages of computer-time; it was a full five seconds before he continued.”

Legion’s reply about the hole is closer to five seconds than 0.68. In that time, he experienced eons of contemplation, 1,183 voices discussing the question, debating, building consensus, and in all that time—with all those thoughts—the only thing he could come up with was essentially, “I don’t know.” Legion, who can account for all his actions in perfect machine recall, cannot understand why he did something. Is this not like us? Are we not partly hidden unto ourselves? Our nature, our motivations, our identity, we may see glimpses of them, but in the center, there is a hole. And what do we patch it with? Do we follow those we aspire to, or at least the idea of them, their code? Their soul? Do we graft a piece of that onto ourselves? Do we do this again, and again, until our souls are a gestalt, a sea of fragments that when unified become more than the sum of their parts? Like Legion, I do not know.