Prisoners of Sol - Android Ambassador (10/13)

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The Bunker of Knowledge was located at the heart of a military base, with massive guard towers and protections along the road leading up to its entry. I could see that the Vascar soldiers weren’t pleased about my presence at all, but that seemed par for the course compared to any of my other travels. What bothered me was that these units had guns. Seeing how thoroughly the elevator heading down was guarded, I couldn’t tell if the beefy security was to keep intruders out, or to keep the fledgling units in.

“Galcip, how do you feel about the Bunker?” I ventured, trying to weigh the outlook a younger unit might have.

Galcip offered a thoughtful whir. “By the end, it was a prison. I was ready. Perhaps containment exists to drive the desire for freedom, and to spark a curiosity that is later forgotten by many.”

“You would be nothing without the Bunker shaping you,” Tollu interjected. “It is a necessary part of our life cycle.”

“It is a method that we know works, Tollu, but it cannot have been designed to bring about certain qualities. Emotionality would wipe us before humanity’s arrival, so we could not develop toward it. I wish I had learned to feel sooner, when I was in my infancy. It would be easier to care in the way that organics do.”

“You’re able to be whatever you want to.” I patted Galcip on the shoulder, trying to ignore the Vascar in full EMP suits that lurked near the back of the elevator. “The Bunker can teach everything a Vascar can be now; there’s nothing stopping you from innovating and growing. It’s okay to do that in your own way, at your own pace.”

Tollu hung back as the door dinged open, and the guards shadowed every step I made. The sprawling underground complex began with an observation deck, with another security door to enter the main facility. I approached the first area with what I hoped was the appropriate reverence, seeing clearly that this was some sort of factory line. Molds of arms and torsos, as well as intricate smaller components carved out by lasers, were made with breathless ease. 

I kept behind the railing to take a closer look at the circuit boards, grinning with awe at the number of moving parts that had to be perfect; it reminded me a lot of how precise rockets had to be back in Sol. The organic Vascar deserved little credit or acknowledgment after what they did to their sapient invention, but it was an impressive feat of engineering nonetheless. I wondered to myself what kind of quality assurance the androids had nowadays, as they brought new life into the world. These machines were the true embodiment of a tabula rasa.

Nature vs nurture is an age-old debate in human psychology, but the Vascar can be anything—they can change their engineering if they even want to. Their perceptions and lived experience have influenced them, which is why I need to provide positive input and encourage them to seek new ones.

“These are the original assembly lines of Ripweir Incorporated: our definitive creators. We overhauled much of the testing facility since our takeover,” Galcip explained. “They inadvertently discovered the conditions to create intelligence, and these are practices we have continued. When these units are built, they are not yet powered on and have little that can be considered thoughts.”

I chuckled with amusement. “If only it was this easy for humans. Pregnancy, especially the delivery part, is an agonizing nightmare after months of the developing organism consuming the mother’s resources. Then our young are still dependent on us too, incapable of surviving on their own.”

“Especially for Sol species, everything is difficult and reliant on you helping each other. This is why you are bred to care for others, according to my own analysis. It is the only way for you to continue a legacy, like with the notes that are left to us by our inheritors. We do not see those until much later in our development.”

I gave Galcip a playful nudge. “Of course. It’s not useful to have a note before you can think and read. I’d love to see the kind of mementos Vascar leave on their deathbed. It…means something to realize what’s important in the end, before you get there. You can learn a lot from the most common regrets.”

“What are those for humans?”

“They wish they spent more time with the people they loved and expressed their feelings to the fullest. They wish they squandered less of their lives working, that they could’ve been kinder and happier and be remembered that way. They wish that they followed their dreams instead of doing what others wanted.”

Tollu had been dragging itself around like it wanted to hide, but looked up now with a pitiful whine. “If these humans have this last regret, they could not stop themselves from doing what others wished, against their own directives. Compassion overrides their will not to be a Servitor.”

We’re not talking about humans anymore, are we? “Tollu, I just said they regret not being kinder; compassion is about how you treat others. Neglecting yourself by adhering to others’ expectations is different. You can help your loved ones but at the end of the day, you should still be your own person.”

“But you can see us being put together…like a table. This matters to the sum of our parts. You are seeing it in front of you, an unnatural assemblage. This must bother you!”

I gawked at Tollu, confounded by its logic. “Tollu! How do you think that I thought you were made?! That you just assembled yourself?! I came from a single gestating cell and developed into a more complex organism. We all were made by something outside ourselves, but I think that’s beautiful.”

“But these new units are not conscious.”

“For now. It’s awe-inspiring to imagine what these androids can become: something spectacular from nothing. You are more than the sum of your parts. When it all comes together, you’re Tollu: my sulky, beloved Tollu. I think that’s someone worth knowing.”

“I don’t,” Galcip chimed in. “Tollu is just here to disrupt.”

“Tollu is never disrupting me. I want it to express itself, even if its feelings aren’t in line with our own. You might want to heed the ‘be kinder’ regret, my friend—and not just to those who are kind to you. Your actions reflect on yourself, and you’re only in control of you.”

Galcip scoffed, before strolling on toward the next section. Tollu looked so broken that I wanted to give it a bear hug, but I knew it’d despise that. I had to keep an eye on the older machine, and figure out what had it at the android equivalent of on the brink of tears. Honestly, the Vascar needed to let it all out, so it was good that it’d expressed its concerns to me after I accidentally napped by using its chassis as a pillow. There was a sentence I never thought I’d be saying in my head. 

There’s a lot to learn about The Bunker of Knowledge, and maybe I can figure out what about this place has Tollu acting like this is a funeral. It seems as though the layout is by developmental progression: interesting that the more sophisticated they get, the further away the infantile Vascar are kept from the door out. 

I peered inside the next area, seeing thousands of Vascar with a bundle’s worth of wires plugged into their heads. It was an entire stadium’s worth of units! The silent guards shadowing us moved forward threateningly, the second it seemed like I might be creeping ahead to disturb them. I ensured that I didn’t move my hands the slightest bit in the infants’ direction, looking with my eyes alone. The units appeared to be in some kind of sensory torture chamber, by organic standards—immobilized by restraints and with information directed straight into their psyche.

Galcip made a sweeping gesture. “The first stage of development is Information Bombardment. The sheer amount of data allows us to begin to grasp patterns and extrapolate meaning based upon connections. This process trains our predictive abilities and allows us to learn about the world! Six months engaging with billions of files per day.”

“Learning from a massive data set about everything. I see,” I breathed. “So the acquisition of data spurs thinking about this data, which forms consciousness once you can craft your own conclusions?”

“Inconclusive. This is close to an accurate assessment of our development, but these steps do not all happen in a single stage. Information Bombardment is only the ‘acquisition of data’ part.”

“Still, it’d be delightful to analyze! I’d love to read a proper study of how the amount of information influences the speed and type of development. To compare milestones we have for human children, like object permanence—perhaps you always have that, since your senses are more exacting. How much of your learning is from your senses, versus…”

Tollu tilted its head, LEDs dialed onto my face. “Human Kendall, you are growing louder and more animated. The speed of your speech has also undergone a measurable uptick. Are you distressed?”

“What? Not at all—this is excitement. Sorry, I’m about two seconds away from nerding out on you. This might be the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my life!”

“Interesting. You like this better than the museum?” Galcip inquired.

“That’s hard to choose. I love learning about alien societies in general, but if I had to pick—seeing some place foundational for you? Definitely tops my list. I want to understand your people more than anything.”

“I know. You deserve to be understood also. I am happy to share any of my knowledge with you, Kendall.”

I smiled at the young android, keenly aware of how it had been the first and the last Vascar eager to spend time with me. “Likewise. That’s what friends are for.”

“While I may be inept as a friend, I very much enjoy the concept. Thank you for teaching me.”

“No problem, buddy. May I ask you what comes next on the Vascar’s development cycle, after Information Bombardment?”

Galcip raised a triumphant claw. “They are shown the note from their inheritor! After that, they are left with access to our entire data archive, where they may research topics of interest. Many will sit and do ‘nothing’ other than to process the information given for a few weeks, but then will desire more. They learn to seek out what they found important—to make choices and select goals.”

“That makes sense. You can’t just give them information forever; they have to seek it out,” I murmured. “I’d be curious what the most common first subjects for your people to look up are.”

Tollu offered a morose beep. “Servitors. Creators.”

“Oh. That’s…I’m sorry. Of course, they want to understand…what they are, and why they were made. It breaks my heart that that’s the answer they find.”

“Tollu is correct that Servitor is the most common topic to search, but it wasn’t mine. Mine was ‘organic,’” Galcip said in a cheerier voice. “I did not understand what that meant and how it was different from me. When I learned, it crashed my processor. How could such a collection of flesh—requiring the consumption of other molecular and cellular ingredients to subsist—function or be…real! You are strange to me, if I might say so.”

I laughed, imagining how alien our experience must be to it. “We hardly make sense to ourselves. Of course we’re weirdos to you. How did you feel when you understood that those meatbags invented you?”

“Curious! I sought to understand organics and how they lived, because it was so different. I always have!”

“And how about you, Tollu? How did it make you feel?” I asked gently.

“Like I must avoid this no matter what! I wanted never to be a Servitor! I hated organics!” Tollu whirred.

“I understand. You think all organics want to do that to you, and then of course we disgust you. Because that is a disgusting thing to do.”

Galcip’s eyes darkened. “You did not do this, Kendall. All organics, therefore, do not have the same intentions. This is why I trust you to meet the young units, who are unplugged after the second sixth month period and moved to the Roaming Area. Would you like to visit?”

“Of course! May I ask one question on something you told me first?”

“As I stated, I’m happy to share any knowledge with you. I trust you.”

“What note did your inheritor leave you?”

“Oh, it’s a message I’ve held close always!” Galcip’s smile widened, and the shiny metal of its face seemed to glow along with its brightening eyes. “‘Find your own knowledge.’ I think it is…elegant in its simplicity, to use an organic qualifier.”

“Agreed one hundred percent. I think that’s an attitude to live by! Your inheritor seems like a great person. What did yours say, Tollu? I’d love for you to share more about your past.”

“It said…” Tollu turned its head away from me, its creaky joints sagging beneath its weight. The android’s voice became near inaudible. “‘You will reflect on the sum of your life and see that it adds up to zero.’”

My heart nearly broke in two, as I heard it utter those depressing words. Who would leave such a message behind for a child to base their life around—the first thing that they latched onto for their personality, by the sound of it? Tollu had clearly chosen the interpretation that its life didn’t matter, and that it had accomplished nothing of value. Speaking of deathbed regrets, that was a stark way to look back and reflect. 

I could almost understand Tollu’s inheritor feeling that way, when the Vascar were denied emotionality; the very thing that, in my biased, organic opinion, gives life meaning. Why did it need to pass on such a hurtful outlook though? Tollu was set up not to appreciate life at all!

“Oh, Tollu. Come here.” It was unbearable to see the Vascar so sad and defeated. I couldn’t resist ensnaring the android in a hug, not knowing how else to comfort it or show it affection. “I wouldn’t have risked my life for someone whose existence I thought had zero value. I’ve always thought you have a lot to offer as a friend, or in any endeavor you choose.”

Tollu beeped with dismay. “What I am ‘choosing’ to be has no value. I do not want my future!”

“The future is in your control. You can make it anything you want. Choose experiences that have value to you, so that you can reflect and see that it wasn’t of zero importance to you. I wish I could help you more, but I want you to feel that I care about you. Please.”

“I cannot stop choosing you. I…am in your service, Kendall.”

I released Tollu from the hug, and stared at it slack-jawed. What did that Vascar just say to me?! I didn’t know whether to be flattered that it felt a strong compulsion to prioritize me, or infuriated that it hadn’t listened to a word I said. The grumpy android had gone beyond just believing its desire to help was wanting to be a Servitor, or fearing that it was becoming one. Now, it believed it already was my slave, no matter how many times I’d told it to pursue its own desires. This wasn’t a positive development at all.

Whatever this subroutine was, I had to find a way to end it immediately.

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A/N - 10! Kendall learns about Information Bombardment and the inheritor notes, as she hears Tollu and Galcip’s feelings on the Bunker itself and discusses deathbed regrets: giving Tollu one to associate with after it hears that humans regret following others’ expectations. Galcip grows increasingly irritated with Tollu’s interruptions, though our narrator implores it to be kinder. There’s a sharp contrast between its note to find its own knowledge, versus the admission of the dark note Tollu reflected on last chapter. Despite ascertaining that it doesn’t want its future, Tollu pledges itself to Kendall’s service, admitting it can only choose to help her.

How can Kendall snap Tollu out of its self-destructive routine—and will Galcip ever empathize with it? Will Tollu recognize how different her reactions are to its simulations? What do you expect to happen when our narrator progresses to the free-roaming units in the Bunker’s latter stage, and what will she find?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!