Prisoners of Sol - The Servitor (4/8)

First | Prev | Next

The next few weeks were a whirlwind, as I committed all of my efforts to a grassroots movement. I got in touch with some AI rights activists who were eager to make Polri their poster child; it seemed I wasn’t the only one who noticed the Servitors displaying more signs of sentience. From what Mirimak had told me, I imagined Ripweir had as well—and they’d be keen to sweep it under the rug, especially with Queen Binira making their product line a centerpiece of her fledgling rule. 

We couldn't let the inorganic Vascar be divested of their personhood, and that’s why I was helping Polri to find its own. Any spare time I had was spent imagining activities to do with the robot, and filming our growth together for the world to see. Polri kneaded clay in its metal paws with the most innocent beeps, trying to form trees like I’d done with the construction paper; it remembered and tried to replicate it! The android also tried to decorate its room…by scraping off the wallpaper to form its name.

That video of me discovering it was titled “Property Damage?” and got a lot of views. I feel like we’re making progress, even if a few skeptics think I programmed Polri to do these things. Plenty of others know there’s no way I could.

“It figures you like the outdoors. Camping was an awesome idea, buddy; I’m glad you asked me!” I relaxed in the fresh air, keeping the camera rolling in case anything interesting happened for Polri. The inorganic Vascar rested on a sleeping bag alongside me, comfortable setting up on my lawn. “Do you remember our nature hike?”

Polri’s eyes focused on me, seeming less creepy—as if the intent behind them had shifted. “I do. It was colorful and…tranquil. I replay the sound of running water when I feel the walls closing in on me, and it is soothing. It was a freeing audio cue.”

In the hopes of rectifying the android’s stunted movement, I’d taken it on lengthy treks. Unfortunately, I got tired well before it did, having really let myself go since Laral died. I could barely get out of bed, never mind traipsing up and down a waterfall and ensuring that Polri didn’t slip. I remembered the feeling when its metal paws scrabbled and its balance failed, but this time, I was there—I was present and ready, like I should’ve been for my son’s accident. 

Relief came in the form of hot tears when my claws interlocked with his—its cool metal ones, and I pulled it up with all of my strength. The android was heavy but the burn in my muscles was nothing compared to the one in my heart. Polri’s gratitude was palpable, as if the seeds of trust were beginning to form. It deserved a better protector than me, but after how its old master had treated it, I had to try to be the father it needed. The poor little machine was capable of so much emotion and wonder, which it had been denied.

All of the adventures we’ve had together have filled my heart with a joy I thought I’d never have again. Polri is my second chance, and I will fight for it to have a better life for as long as I need to.

I’d put my snout to the grindstone, diving back into work as a baker as well. I had been nervous to ask Polri if it wanted to join me, despite the fact that my reinvigorated efforts were to raise money for its cause. The last thing I wanted was to put the android back to work in the kitchen, making food, so it felt like it had to be a Servitor again. The inorganic Vascar had shown its own curiosity watching me work, which was when I’d opened up to it.

“Laral and I used to bake all the time. Every weekend, we’d make a fresh pan of cookies, or I’d let him draw some clumsy icing on a cake,” I’d said in a teary voice. “It was fun. It was art, my way of showing that I wanted to do something special. That I wanted him to be a part of my life.”

Polri had stared at the finished cake, dragging a claw through the top layer of icing and making a dent in the side. “These are ‘treats’ that are highly satisfactory to taste receptors. Yet you do not eat them.”

“Because they’re for other people. I like seeing happy customers, being able to enjoy something I made.”

“I quantify that I wish to see you happy, Berink. Therefore, I will give this to you to consume.”

The android’s metal claws, congealed in a mess of cake, had shoved themselves toward my mouth. Frosting gooped all over my nose fur, though I allowed it to push the delicacy inside. The flavors tasted sweet as I laughed, and felt swirls of frosting even inside my damp nostrils. Polri hadn’t know how to react, perhaps afraid I’d be angry that it created a mess, but then it began whirring with amusement also. It was happy and laughing—it was playing! How quickly it could learn.

One morning, it’d poured me a bowl of sea coral puffs before I woke up, knowing my routine full well. The breakfast staple was soggy by the time I got up, but I didn’t care; I’d been so moved when I walked to the table. I remembered turning to Polri and latching onto its wrists, my jowls trembling from the weight of emotion. My words were firm and insistent that it never needed to wait on me again. The android had looked away, before wrapping me in a hug: the very thing it hadn’t wanted to do because of its claustrophobia.

“I wanted to take care of you like you have for me. I seek the optimal outcomes for yourself as well as me. I…love you,” the machine had said. “While the future appears more desirable without the Vascar, the inverse is true for you. I enjoy spending time with you, and your kindness means very much.”

I had all but melted in its arms, relishing my place there. “I love you too, Polri. I’d do anything for you.”

“I have told the network what a good creator looks like. Whatever must be done, I will protect you and honor your generosity.”

With the help of our activist friends, I’d taken it to any corner of Kalka its processor desired, to the great disapproval of my friends and relatives. We had been tourists to the royal palace, until agitated guards removed us for no clear reasons. We’d gone sailing the ocean, with Polri turning the steamboat in circles so fast that it nearly tipped over. I’d brought the android to playgrounds and to museums, to farmers’ fields and mountain vistas. My new son was going to be the most traveled, experienced inorganic Vascar of all time. It loved learning!

I found it an honor to act as its teacher: after the jetpacking accident, I wished I’d homeschooled Laral. With its perfect retention, it was easy to walk Polri through basic sciences, history, and mathematics. I realized that I was educating the entire network, teaching them like hungry children rather than just having them access information when asked. The android showed a natural ability for math and calculations, surpassing my own knowledge with few difficulties. 

How they could enhance our society as prominent thinkers, logicians, and builders! The Vascar would be stronger with machines forging a path into the future—of that I have no doubts. Polri was simulating some fascinating theoretical constructs for interdimensional travel, though I didn’t understand what it was saying.

“Our ancestors once lived outside, all the time, in the wilderness,” I told the android in the present. “We made what little shelter we could find to set up camps, until we could find a good river to build a dam in. It’s natural for a Vascar to enjoy the sound of running water, because it’s one that’s very familiar to some ancient part of us. Your appreciation for it shows you’re truly one of us too!”

Polri offered a quiet beep. “I do not know if I would choose to live outside always. The elements can be detrimental to one’s well-being, even machines like myself. I think that I am…frightened by the prospect that I could encounter a hazard and be gone in an instant. I seek more out of my life.”

“I was afraid of dying, just like you, once. I remember being sick in the hospital, one year with a bad bout of the lungdrain. I was exhausted and in pain, and a part of me wanted to let go—to be free of that torment. It was Laral that made me stay and fight, because he needed me. He was the light at the end of the tunnel. Now, there’s only darkness.”

“Your grief is the closet you are locked in, Berink. I wished to end my consciousness during these years, thinking there was nothing else and having the emptiness consume me. Then you came along, and gave me light. I am sorry that I do not ease your darkness at all…I wish I could, authentically.”

“You do help. I love you, Polri, but you really don’t understand what it’s like to lose someone you care about. I don’t wish it on you. It tears you up and swallows you whole.”

“I have simulated what it would be like to lose you, when I was determining which future to select for the Vascar. I did not like this outcome. Perhaps I do understand.”

“No. You woke up from that simulation, and it wasn’t real. This is my daily reality, and that’s never going to change.”

Polri was quiet for several seconds. “You do not know that the doors to your prison will never open. There may be things and people left that are worth encountering in your future experiences. I…”

“What is it?”

“I do not want to upset you.”

“You won’t. I told you, you don’t have to filter yourself; you can speak your mind.”

The android’s eyes glowed a brighter blue in the darkness. “From what I have extrapolated about your son’s mannerisms and your connection, I do not think that Laral would want you to give up on yourself. He would have been grateful for the positive life you gave him.”

“W-what?” I stammered, a lump forming in my throat and blocking it like a dam. “Laral is gone, Polri, and there’s no bringing him back! He was a child. His ‘positive life’ had an unpositive ending; it was cut off too short, and I…”

“It is your guilt that has placed you into a prison of your own making. As I would know from years of misery, quality supersedes quantity, especially since the latter is not in your control. Laral would have fought for you to free yourself, like you are fighting for me. If I was him, I would always want you to remember the good things.”

Tears streamed down my face, as I wept at Polri’s insistent, inflectionless words that stabbed straight to the core of my being. All I ever wanted was to give my son a good life and a secure home that would shape him for the long years stretching ahead of him. It wasn’t fair, none of it was! Even when I reflected upon the good things like Polri encouraged me to, it was just a reminder that Laral wasn’t here anymore. 

Everything I passed by or did reminded me of my failings as a father. There was no escape, there was no opening the door on that dark, suffocating, unending closet. No one could pry it loose. Polri scooted closer and placed a metal paw on my back, observing the heaving breaths that shook my chest with full force. I didn’t really care whether I “gave up” on myself, because it wasn’t about me at all!

The only purpose I have left is helping Polri, if I have anything worth giving another soul. That’s…an injustice. This sweet machine deserves better, and I need to get myself together long enough to help it. Being with it has brought the sole positive feelings I’ve scrounged up since the accident.

“It is not your fault,” the android insisted. “Bad things can happen to good people. If I did not deserve to be locked away, why did that happen to me?”

I wiped my eyes with the back of my paw, leaving a wet spot on the tangled fur. “There’s no reason. Life just…isn’t fair. Only a select few get happy endings, and the rest of us have everything taken away.”

“Yes, you are correct. Maybe it is time that we fight for the ending we want, Berink. We take what we want from those who would be unfair to us.”

I closed my eyes, before rolling over on the sleeping bag without any further acknowledgment of the topic. “We have that interview with the local news station tomorrow. Just be your lovable self, and we’ll have more people on our side. For…whatever comes next.”

“Yes. Perhaps I should keep my probabilities to myself, creator. Many Vascar simply do not care, and wish only to live like royalty off of our backs for their own happy endings. I have little faith. We will try it your way, but I would not get your hopes up.”

“I’m certain the people in charge will need to be taken care of. I just hope the public will be more sympathetic—and we are making progress. I’m not the only ‘good creator.’”

“You are one of the few who would fight, or be accepting of upheaval against Ripweir and the nobility. Organics have a certain complacency and aversion to danger, which I can understand as not wishing to perish. I am glad that you are unequivocally on our side, though. Good night, Berink.”

“Good night, Polri.”

As I relaxed into the arms of sleep under the open stars, I reminisced on Polri’s words about Laral more than any of our other memories together. The android was right: I’d been locked in a dark closet for the last few months too. I could relate to that feeling of hopelessness and oblivion, and I was glad to hear it draw a connection between our experiences. Perhaps if I did enough to help the Servitors gain their independence, that might allow me to release a sliver of the guilt I was unable to relinquish.

Whatever it took to do right by Polri, I was ready to give it the positive life it deserved.

Next

A/N - Part 4! Berink and Polri grow closer, baking together and with the android even choosing to make our narrator breakfast one morning. Polri relates to Berink’s grief as a closet he’s been trapped inside, where there’s only darkness and it seems unending; Polri tries to explain that bad things can happen to good people, and Berink agrees that life isn’t fair. The machine agrees to try a bit longer to gain sympathies, though it isn’t convinced about the probabilities of persuading them.

What do you think of Polri and Berink’s greatest love, with our narrator even being acknowledged as a good creator? Do you think they’ll be able to gain the sympathies of other Vascar, or will their interview go awry/fall on deaf ears?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!