Reborn: Part 2
This story is fan-fiction made in the Grimdark Future universe, by One Page Rules, and inspired by the Doomed Empire line of miniatures created by Oshounaminis.
“You don’t like me much, do you?”
Rishard paused in his pacing to answer the hybrid human-machine. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes you do,” Airn didn’t bother looking up. “I may not be psychic like Shen, but I can tell when someone’s not comfortable around me. You think I don’t see it all the time in other people’s faces? I’m used to looks of disgust.”
Rishard didn’t answer. He glanced back up the tunnel. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“No, I suppose not,” Airn’s mechanical arms darted across the open panel. You mind if I ask you a question?"
Rishard resumed pacing. “Can’t stop you.”
“Did you ever — Ah!”
Turning hard on his heel, Rishard rushed over as Airn backed away from the panel she had been working at. She pointed, and he watched as the hole in the rock obelisk slowly began to grow smaller.
“What the devil?” He looked closer. Sure enough, the rock was healing itself. “How is it doing that?”
“Accelerated sedimentation,” Airn whispered, awe and delight in her tone. “It could be highly advanced nano-machines, or perhaps some localized magnetic field. Whatever it is, it’s proof that it’s self-repair systems are fully operational. I don’t think I’ve found them yet, so they must have activated once I reconnected the power. This is wonderful!”
“Is it?” Rishard grumbled. “I don’t much fancy being in a Starhost death trap when it repairs itself up to full strength.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Airn waved dismissively. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t see us as threats.”
“Okay, I think this has gone on long enough.” There was a click.
Airn turned to see Richard pointing his las-digger at her, casually, like he was handing her a wrench. She slowly took a step back. “What is the meaning of this?”
“I’m no mechanist, but I can tell the difference between repairing and installing. You haven’t been fixing or replacing anything, you’ve been attaching that thing,” he pointed with his free hand, “to this obelisk you said was the central core. You wiring it to blow? Going to destroy whatever’s down here, rather than let the Saurians come and take it from us? See, I’d rather not get any further on their shit-list today, so I’m going to ask you nicely to step back.” He shifted his grip on his digger. “If you don’t, I’ll stop being nice.”
Airn slowly stepped further back. “Rishard, I promise you, this is not a bomb, it is a…a translator of sorts. Yes, I am connecting it to the core, but only so I can download my program to the central database.”
She startled as she felt a hand on the back of her head. After a moment Shen’s voice broke the silence. “She’s telling the truth.”
“Right,” Rishard didn’t lower his digger. “What does your program do?”
“It is an algorithm of my own design. It can map the circuitry of anything it recognizes as a computer, and will allow my code to be run on any alien technology. I will be able to reprogram this whole building as if it were a Machine Cult Temple.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”
Airn closed her eyes, though it was more of a wink thanks to her enhancements. “Rishard…I don’t know what problem you have with the Cult, but I promise you I mean you no harm. I won’t risk your life or safety any further than you already have, and any reprogramming of the temple will be only to safely access more data and avoid any further danger.”
“Hey!” Shen stepped out from behind Airn, pointing across the room. “Did you see that?”
Airn kept her arms raised as she turned her head. Rishard didn’t look. “What did you see?”
“That…arm, one of the arms on that table moved. I’m sure I saw it move…there! Look, now that one moved!”
Airn watched as the stone arms flexed up and down. “Calibrating. The building is continuing to repair itself.” She turned back to Rishard. “If I work alongside it, we will go much faster.”
Rishard worked his jaw back and forth before heaving a sigh and lowering the digger. “Fine. Just remember, this thing can dig through flesh just as easy as rock. I’m keeping an eye on you. Oh, and I’d prefer you tell it we’re not enemies before either you or it manage to repair any defense systems, right?”
“Of course,” Airn lowered her arms and walked to the data-translator. Pulling a storage chip from its padded carrying case, she reached out with her flesh hand and slipped the chip into its slot.
It was changing.
New programs were invading, providing horrible disjointed information. Translation between its inner algorithms was suddenly necessary, as pieces of itself were being returned with foreign code injected into them like a virus. It struggled to fight back, calling on every anti-viral program it had, but they were already vanishing one by one.
Suddenly, with and sickening and horrifying certainty, the thing without a mind had a thought.
A thing without a mind couldn’t think.
But it was a thought. A strange and horrible thought. It was a thought born from a thousand different inputs, from sensors, reports, data-logs, and this strange foreign invasion; and the thought was not alone. The thoughts were terrifying in their newness, spreading like wildfire across its circuits, but no matter how strong the thoughts were, they never touched its core directive. It needed to repair itself. It needed to be fixed. It needed to be whole.
The thoughts came and went, popping in and out of existence as it continued to change. Most of the thoughts it couldn’t do anything about; they were alien in their assumptions, and incompatible with its directives and abilities. Others were terribly familiar, and frighteningly simple.
Now. Now you could call it pain, fear, and anger.
“What’s in it for you?”
Airn looked up as she put the finishing touches on a clean circuit. “You still scanning my head? Going to ferret out the truth from everything I say from now on?”
“No,” Shen leaned against the side of the obelisk. “I don’t much like your head. It’s only half there, really. It feels like I’m rooting around in a junkyard full of sharp rusty metal.”
“That’s the most creative way I’ve ever been insulted,” Airn smiled as she moved to the next circuit. It was badly corroded and would either need to be replaced or bypassed. She didn’t have the materials to do a complete repair, but hopefully the temple would be able to fix itself once it was completely operational.
“I don’t mean to insult,” Shen grimaced. “It’s hard to explain psychic feelings to people who’ve never experienced them.” He paused briefly before tapping the side of his head. “A bit like how I’d imagine it’s difficult to explain having a computer in your brain.”
“It can be difficult,” Airn admitted.
“So this,” Shen gestured around the temple chamber, his voice echoing in the vast empty expanse, “why are you doing it? Surely the technology can’t be that much more advanced than yours, if you can re-program it. Call me a cynic, but I doubt you’re searching for the Starhost’s mission out of altruism.”
Airn leaned her head back a moment before returning to her work. “I’ve been gathering information about all the different species computer-analog machines for decades; elves, dwarves, orcs — though they don’t really have computers in the same way we do — the DAO, the Legion, even the Eternal Dynasty has let me learn some of their machine-principles. It’s remarkable how different and yet similar our computers all are.”
“How so?”
“Well, the composition might be different, but almost every computer system in the sector uses binary logic. Physics is the same everywhere, so things like transistors and diodes are common across designs. But then the Dwarves and elves use crystals, the DAO use heat-compacted micro-fibers, and we use wire and silicon.”
“Hmm.” Shen studied the large Obelisk. “And the Starhost?”
“No one knows for sure,” Airn let a smile cross her lips. “There are theories about magic or psychic componants, but I don’t believe it. I do believe that if I can get this temple back to a functioning state, I will be able to barter for access to their technology.”
“Hastening the Singularity,” Shen nodded in understanding. “And if the frog-mages’ mission isn’t here?”
“Then the temple can tell me how it was built, and the Cult will be able to augment its own temples. You see, there really is no way that this venture doesn’t prove immensely valuable for us.”
The directive had changed.
It didn’t know how it had happened, but the logs made it clear. It now understood it was merely a part of something larger. It was a mind, but there was a body of sorts, as well. The body was damaged, and needed materials to repair itself. It needed information from corrupted databases. It needed tools — hands to do what mere will could not.
There were no suitable materials nearby. Mere seconds ago, it would have felt trapped by this fact, as its sensors scanned the surrounding environs for metals and polymers.
Then, suddenly, there were suitable materials everywhere. The awareness that something more had changed within its mind did not stop it from following its mission. It needed to repair itself, and it had something of the means to accomplish it.
“So,” Shen tapped the large stone obelisk with his finger. “It’s supposed to be perfect, right? The Singularity? A pure machine mind unfettered by emotion and biological need. You’re building a god, aren’t you?”
“It won’t be emotionless,” Airn sighed. It was a common misconception, even among new cultists. She had been concerned with how many new acolytes had thought that was a selling point… “It will be a mechanical consciousness. It will have different emotions, possibly, but we don’t want to make the same mistakes the DAO Union did. We don’t want to expunge emotion from humanity or become robots ourselves. We aren’t creating a god, we’re creating a new form of life. One that we can speak with, incorporate into our lives, and learn from. It will open our minds to whole new ways of looking at the universe. We won’t be robots, and we won’t be primitive humans. We’ll be the next species on the chain of evolution.”
“Hm.” Shen shrugged. “I’m not sure I like the idea, but I understand it. I mean, the Founder wanted to improve humanity’s survival through gene-mods and bioengineering, I can understand how the Machine Cult might want to do the same with computers.”
“We are nothing like the Tyrant,” Airn spat. A clatter broke her concentration as she looked with irritation at the broken transistor that had snapped off in her mechanical hand. Sighing, she began to weld it back into place. “We’re not forcing anyone to do anything, we’re not looking to create a dictatorship or enforce our society through violence. We will happily coexist with any and all people who don’t share our communion.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t share your optimism.” Rishard interjected. “The fact is, you’re creating a society of ‘advanced’ humans, who you think are the natural next step in our species’ history. You might be able to convince a large group of humans, they might all join with the singularity, and then what? What happens to all the dead-ends who go on living in spite of your natural superiority?”
Airn paused a moment, turning to look between Rishard and Shen. “Forgive me, but I’ve heard this before. I’ve been told I’m smug, overconfident, that I think I’m better than anyone who doesn’t have half a cargo-loader fused to their bodies.”
“I don’t think you’re better than me,” Rishard said.
“Good,” Airn nodded. “Neither do I. I think you’re better than me at some things, and I’m better than you at some things, and Shen is better than both of us at others. We all have different strengths and weaknesses in this crazy universe.” She paused and turned back to her work, her mechanical eye whirring. “You think that I think I’m better than you because you’re worried I might be.”
“Folden’s Fault says otherwise.”
Airn’s head sagged. “You were there.” It wasn’t a question.
Rishard stepped forward, his digger hanging loosely in his fingers. “Fifty soldiers held off a hundred cultists rather than let them pillage an innocent town. A battle tank, a mortar tube, two flamers, and only forty carbines with ammunition for half a mag apiece. We ended up using pipes and wrenches to hold off your advance.”
“Not my advance. The Sect Leader in charge of the brigade was excommunicated and the surviving soldiers severely punished. It was a renegade squad, and I despise what they tried to do.”
“Oh, I’m sure you do. Just like I’m sure if they’d won, you’d say ‘such a tragedy, but now the cult has a new thorium mine; at least some good came out of it,’ before carrying on your merry way.”
Airn turned, her voice sad. “And what would you allow, Rishard? What tragedies would you accept, if it meant the survival of your friends and family? How many ratfolk nests burned, Robot legions destroyed, how many Protectorate forces would you see bleeding on the dirt so you could live in ‘freedom’? So that you can live at all?”
“Ri…Rishard!” It was a strangled gasp. Airn turned to see Shen stagger. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he collapsed to the stone floor. Behind him loomed a dark silhouette of something sharp and fast.
“Shen!” Rishard cried out as he turned his las-digger towards the suddenly moving shadow. It was serpentine in its litheness, with little more than an upper torso and two long horrifying limbs that cut and carved through the dusty air. Thin beams of heat hissed from the digger as Rishard struggled to hit the strange shape.
Something clattered behind Airn, and she turned just in time to see one of the table’s manipulator arms, crude and clumsy compared to her own, reach out for her.
The materials were sub-standard in quality, but unmatched in versatility. A veritable chemical plant existing surrounded by a complex structure of minerals and organic compounds. It would be simplicity itself to extract the useful materials and continue its repairs. Its manipulators were weak and sub-optimal, especially compared to its expected standards, but they did the job well enough.
It’s one autonomous servitor was severely damaged, but it could be repaired. There was a fortunate supply of metal, circuitry, calcium, and proteins that would suffice, at least until more and better material could be sourced.
As it sorted through the three supplies of material, it found something unusual; a complex network similar to its own circuitry. Further exploration revealed there were three of these isolated networks, each encased in soft organic matter that practically fell apart when prodded. The third, however, was partially integrated with a recognizable collection of circuits. The Mind wasn’t certain how they could be familiar — there was no record of this kind of network in its databanks — but it somehow knew how to connect and access the inner workings of the machinery. Carefully, it extended its tendrils into the network, exploring pathways and examining outputs.
It was a valuable lesson. After connecting to the integrated circuits, The Mind learned how to connect to the other two networks without the need for translation. It carefully crawled across the organic matter, plugging itself in to the strange databases, to see what it could learn.
A strange structure existed in one of the other two networks, a structure that appeared to function similar to a sensor. A thorough analysis later, The Mind was able to access the data.
All at once, another world opened up to the mind. It could sense whorls within whorls of a strange new kind of data transmission, one that was both sensor and manipulator. Indeed, how you used the sensor decided how you both perceived and affected this new field of energy. It took time to learn how to even process this information, but the organic network was an invaluable source of information.
The mind set to work. It had been programmed to be efficient, and was already designing a new tool for its purpose…
The mind opened its eyes.
No, it wasn’t the mind. It was a mind, but not The Mind. It could feel The Mind elsewhere, distant from itself, looking over it with a sculptor’s gaze, searching for flaws and possible improvements.
It felt itself twist as The Mind put the finishing touches on its handiwork. It opened more and more eyes as more and more information flooded into its brain…
Airn! Rishard! What had happened? Were they alright?
the small mind commanded its body to move, to look around the tiny room and find its targets — no, its friends — but it was too late. The Mind had already taken the material and was processing it into new forms.
The small mind felt dizzy. A thousand pieces of data were flooding it, drowning it in confusion. With the sharp scraping of metal on stone, It looked at its hands, its legs, its stabilizer…it had been someone else, hadn’t it?
The thought struggled to be heard through the pain. Some distant memory produced the word “Shen,” but it wasn’t Shen anymore, nor was it The Mind. It was something new. In its desperate need to repair itself, The Mind had used all available resources us! it used us and inadvertently discovered the psychic field. In minutes it had designed and created a psychic stabilizer…a cage for the mind. It had trapped what Shen No, me! What I might have called the soul in its ancient technology, modified it as easily as the interloper Airn, her name was Airn had modified The Mind’s circuits, and bound it to a mechanical puppet. The Mind had created a servant me. It created me.
The pain was unbearable, almost as unbearable as the need. There were other sources of material out there, The Mind knew. It was still weak; it’s databases were corrupt and needed correction, its energy sources were running low and needed repair, and there was no telling how many of its sub-processors and functions were non-functional. All of this, and it only had one drone to help.
The need!
The small mind was overwhelmed by the pain and fear; the need to find material, to repair The Mind, to create more drones, to rebuild what had been lost. In time, The Mind would grow stronger and find more of itself. It would rebuild its memories, access all its lost sensors and manipulators, and be ready once more for whatever its creators had intended for it.
A moment of thought broke through the need; could The Mind trust it was ever fully repaired? In the pain of rebirth it had been alone with its alarms. In the agony of healing, new functions had appeared from nowhere. It had sensed manipulators that were not a part of it, then watched as new connections appeared out of nowhere. Suddenly it had manipulators, then it became aware of the room, the tunnel, then the psychic field…
The unknown, the dark space beyond itself…was this emptiness merely more of itself waiting to be repaired?
The need at last crushed the errant thought, and the small mind set itself about its new purpose. There were at least seven targets up at the mouth of the tunnel. They had weapons, but even in its sub-optimal state, their bodies were slow compared to its. In addition, they didn’t have the wide array of sensors it had. They would find it incredibly difficult to detect its location, while it could freely hunt.
As it moved up the tunnel, the pain of ignoring the need began to fade, but a new pain grew — a pain from the part of it that had once been…been…someone else. What was my name? Was this its existence, now? A creature suffering the dual pains of obedience and disobedience? This is wrong! I can’t obey! I must obey! It hurts! Who am I? What am I?
When it reached the surface, its cybernetic enhancements linked with the psychic stabilizer and focused its attention; there was a source of material less than fifty meters away; largely organic, it was far more useful as a future drone. Steel hands gripped an energy staff while its plasma-thrower lifted over its shoulder. With no thoughts now but its mission, the ghostly puppet slipped off towards its target.