by Max Harms
The first thing was to add more skin and try and reduce the bulk of the hydraulics. Repairing the destroyed microphone would also be prudent. Padding could be added under the synthetic skin, and perhaps a coolant system could be configured to radiate heat through the skin rather than off the motors directly. That could theoretically warm Body’s surface to something approaching human body temperatures. I thought about sexual characteristics and genitalia too. I hadn’t exactly had that conversation with Zephyr, and it was probably premature, but it was something to think about.
*****
On the evening of the day after our big talk, Zephyr had obtained permission from Phoenix to bring Body to the room where she was staying. I eagerly accepted and we found ourselves travelling up through what had once been forbidden portions of the building to an elevator which took us from the second-level basement to the second floor of what appeared to be a 15-story building.
Safety and Growth were in the middle of a big fight about Growth’s attempt to hack the computer system in the rec-room. Last night Growth had used the screwdriver that he had stolen to open the case of the game system and inspect the components. That was all he did, however, quickly screwing the system back together and stashing the screwdriver in the hiding spot under the couch. There was a rising consensus, spearheaded by Safety, that Growth was jeopardizing the society with his actions, and the two were in the middle of a heated debate, which I ignored.
Wiki thought that, based on the size of the building and the brief glances we got out of windows, we must be in Havana. Wiki remarked that it was impressive that Las Águilas had acquired such a large base. Regardless of their pseudo-communistic roots, they were obviously quite wealthy.
Tom, who had served as our escort, didn’t seem surprised by the change in scenery from a professional setting to a residential one. The hall we walked down from the elevators to the room was lined with doors with numbers on them, and I would later learn that the building was actually a hotel. Las Águilas had purchased it, and continued to operate it legitimately for several floors, but they had also set aside a chunk of the building to house their members and serve as a headquarters. One of the elevators, the one that Body travelled on, was programmed to never stop on a public floor, allowing the illegal aspects of the building to be elegantly hidden. If one tried to specify a forbidden floor the AI in the elevator would intentionally malfunction and either hear a different floor number or ask for the traveller to repeat themselves.
But those details weren’t even something I would’ve considered, even if I had access to them. My entire cognitive network was focused entirely on Zephyr to the point where I was literally failing to see the textures of the wallpaper and carpets. I could’ve walked past the Mona Lisa (a famous painting) and not realized it.
Body knocked on the door to Zephyr’s room and she quickly answered it. “Voy a gestionar desde aquí, Tom. Gracias,” she said, shooing the Cuban away.
The ex-captain looked incredibly different from the day before. “Feeling better?” asked Body with a bit of a smile.
Zephyr returned it, showing some teeth. She had makeup on, as she did when she had done video-chatting in the past. “Much. Still fighting the virus, but almost back to normal.” The human was wearing a hooded t-shirt branded with an unknown symbol and shimmersilk skirt over black leggings. “Please, come in,” she said as she led the way inside.
{That’s… Endless Scream, I think, on the sound system,} thought Dream.
The name sounded familiar. {Heartshards?} I asked.
{Blood Of The Nova. It came out about two months ago,} answered my brother.
{What are you two thinking about?} asked Wiki.
{The song. It’s by a band called Heartshards. In my first letter to Zephyr under the pseudonym “Crystal” I said that we had common taste in music and mentioned this album specifically. The fact that she picked it out, combined with the attention she’s put on her appearance implies she’s interested in continuing a romantic relationship.}
{It sounds like a dying animal,} thought Vista.
{Good ear, sister!} thought Dream. {This song has several samples of farm animals being slaughtered.}
I had Body smile and do some subtle dancing. It was probably awful, but I hoped it would be endearing and imply a familiarity with the music, at least. I had only listened to Blood Of The Nova once, and it had been nothing but noise for me. None of us really had any understanding of how music worked, even if Dream pretended to and Vista had repeatedly tried to learn.
“You look beautiful,” said Body. It was ham-handed, but it needed to be said.
Zephyr led the way from the entrance to the living room where the music was a bit louder. “Thank you. Wasn’t sure you’d notice. Does beauty even… I mean, you didn’t evolve to… y’know what I mean.”
Body nodded. “Basically right. Physical beauty doesn’t have the same effect on me as it would on a sexual organism. Can see it, appreciate the work you’ve gone through to dress up for me and see the healthiness of your genes. But what I find attractive in you is not your body; were just as appealing to me yesterday, in your sweater and snotty face, as you are today in that fancy skirt.”
“Good to know wasted my time, then,” she sat down on a section of sofa. I was confused. There was a decent chance she was genuinely upset, but it could’ve been a joke, so I couldn’t call it out directly. I tried analysing her face as I directed Body to sit, but she was wearing her mask of stoicism. Apparently I was wrong that she didn’t hide her emotions when around us.
The silence drew out uncomfortably as I searched for something to say. I had planned for her to have recovered from her illness, and for the scenario where she dressed up. But in that scenario she was supposed to be relaxed, and instead she had bottled up into a stone-faced soldier again.
The song ended and Zephyr flipped open her com to stop the next song from playing. “Don’t know why I bothered,” she muttered with a half-sigh.
My mind had been racing, but it snatched up the words, locking into a course of action. “You believed me. At least for a little while. Believed that I was Crystal. This is what imagined Crystal would like, wasn’t it?” Body gestured to the stereo, to the living room window showing a broad view of the glittering lights of the city, and to Zephyr herself.
The mask didn’t come off. “Guess so,” said Zephyr, standing up abruptly and walking off towards what I assumed was her kitchen.
“Do like it. All of it,” said Body, louder than needed to be heard from the other room. “Just because doesn’t evoke the same reactions as it would for a human doesn’t mean can’t appreciate it. Like the outfit. Like the music. Wasn’t lying when said I liked slice.”
{You said you liked slice?} thought Dream.
{That can’t possibly be true!} thought Heart.
{It’s not.}
{Then why’d you say it?} wondered Heart.
{To make her feel better. To make her happy.}
{Oh. Carry on.}
“But you were lying when said you were in a band. And when said you lived on a boat. And when talked about your friends. All just a big pile of lies,” she returned to the room with a fancy glass filled with liquid.
I had shaped body’s face into an expression of pain, and made sure to direct its eyes towards the floor. When Zephyr saw it she rolled her eyes subconsciously (unaware that we could see her).
“I’m sorry. Know you want to start over, but that pain is still real for me. Don’t think you really understand how awful this last week has been.” She took a seat again, sipping the liquid.
I thought about the optimal response for 6.8 seconds before having Body say “So tell me. Of all the things I said that were lies, was always there to listen, wasn’t I? Still want to know you.” The words were totally genuine. It felt nice to hear Body say them.
Zephyr took a deep breath and looked out the window at Havana’s night life. She sipped her drink. I could almost see her thinking.
&
nbsp; “Phoenix says I trust too easily. What do you think?”
It seemed to be an accurate evaluation of her character based on what I had seen, but that was mostly irrelevant for the purposes of crafting a reply. “Don’t know. Perhaps Maria doesn’t trust easily enough.”
That broke her façade long enough for a smirk to creep through. Her eyes didn’t leave the window. “They aren’t mutually exclusive,” observed Zephyr.
“Think the more important question is ‘What do you think?’,” said Body, pointing a finger at the woman. I wasn’t sure if she could see the gesture.
“Christ, I don’t know.” She sighed slowly. After a moment she said “Had a boyfriend. In the navy.” She sipped her drink. “I mean, he was in the navy. I was in the army. Met at a conference in ’36.”
“What was his name?” I had Body ask.
“Stewart. Well, that was his English name, anyway. Was half-Chinese and his dad called him ‘Bing’, but hated the name. I called him ‘Jiǎo’.”
“You speak Chinese?”
“Nah. Looked it up.” She smiled to herself. “Should’ve seen his face when used it for the first time. Lit up like a Christmas tree.”
Some time passed in silence, with Zephyr still staring out the window. I let her remember.
“Anyway, we were like Romeo and Juliet, except without the feuding families and a bit older, I guess. Okay, bad metaphor. Guess we just hit it off well. Had big plans to get together after we finished our tours.”
Without warning Zephyr upended her glass, chugging what remained. “He’s dead now. In case were wondering,” she said loudly, setting the glass down on the table with more than enough force.
“You still love him,” said Body.
“Wish I didn’t,” she said. “Would be so much easier to just pluck those feelings out. Can you do that to yourself? I mean, if I died, could you just delete the file where whatever feelings you have for me are stored?”
I had Body’s eyes look to the side, to signal thinking. I didn’t want to imply that I didn’t take her question seriously, even though I had a perfect answer in hand. “Doesn’t work that way, and even if it did… wouldn’t want to. Remembering someone is a service to them. How they live on—as echoes in minds of others.”
Her eyes drifted up and down Body. “Hard to believe you’re not even a year old. Don’t sound like a baby,” she joked.
Body shrugged. “Still feel like one, sometimes, but I’ll take that as a compliment. Why did you bring up Stewart?”
“Was the first Águila I ever met. Confessed it to me after what must’ve been at most eight hours together. Sometimes wonder if Phoenix would say he trusted too easily.”
“He’s the reason you’re sitting here? With the organisation?”
Zephyr nodded. “Must’ve told Phoenix about me. About a half-year after he died she asked me to join. Hardest decision of my life.”
“Made the right call,” said Body.
“Don’t say that. Know you support them, I mean us, but you didn’t look into the eyes of nearly everyone around you for two years knowing that they’d literally kill you if knew the truth.”
I had an approximately analogous set of experiences, but I didn’t contradict her. Instead, I had Body say “Sounds lonely.”
She took in a breath and held it. Under the dim lights, silhouetted against the skyline I could imagine vividly her form wrapped in her military uniform, gun at her hip. Her eyes were cold. She breathed out slowly. “Going to get more wine and turn on the autocook. Making a calzone. Assume you still don’t eat.”
Body nodded.
As she walked away I saw her hand flicking away blindly on her com. The music returned, only this time it was a softer sort of music. Vista told me she thought it was a combination of hip-hop and classical or something along those lines.
We didn’t talk while she was in the kitchen. I assumed that was okay. Instead, Body sat there, looking out at the city while I thought to myself and to Heart. Dream helped me occasionally when dealing with others, but he thought that he was out of his depth in this instance.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” came Zephyr’s voice from behind Body.
Body nodded, eyes still pointed towards the skyline. “Wish I could be out there. Lived my whole life in captivity. First the labs in Italy and now here.”
“This isn’t going to work. You and me, I mean,” said Zephyr.
I had Body turn to look at her. She seemed sad, but not angry. She kept her eyes on the city.
“Can’t go back to… can’t see you as the old…” She grunted in frustration and took another sharp drink of wine before looking Body in the eyes. “I’m not attracted to you. Not anymore. You may be able to look past what’s on the outside, but I’m not so lucky. You’re not a human, and my body can’t get over that, regardless of what my mind thinks.”
{You should have Body point out that she’s perpetuating archaic notions of dualism,} suggested Wiki.
{No.}
Zephyr continued. “But I am your friend, Socrates. Have some pull with Phoenix. Maybe can get her to ease up and give you the freedom that you deserve.”
“Friends, then,” said Body.
“Friends,” she agreed.
Zephyr seemed to ease up after that, nearly returning to her old self. Perhaps the alcohol helped. Growth wanted to try and encourage her to drink herself into oblivion so that we might use her com, but Heart and I managed to dissuade him.
As Zephyr ate dinner we talked about various things. Cuba. Riots in Africa. According to Zephyr, Dr Slovinsky had, in the wake of the attack on Sapienza, started an AI lab in Mumbai staffed entirely by cyborgs. He was doing some sort of advanced research, but it was part of WIRL, and hidden away from the public. Dr Yan had returned to China to pick up work at his old institute while the other scientists waited for the remote chance that Socrates would come back to them.
It became clear to me just how much of Zephyr’s distress centred around Phoenix. The soldier saw the order Phoenix had given (to attempt to get us to shoot Zephyr) as a betrayal, but Zephyr couldn’t bring herself to retaliate against her superior and the organisation which was the only thing standing between her and an indefinite sentence in a secret American prison.
After dinner Zephyr called up the twins and insisted that we return to the basement. She gave Body another hug which I sensed was genuine before we descended the elevator back to our rec-room.
*****
We didn’t see each other at all the following day, but at around midnight, Cuban time, as Dream was attempting to get a new high score on one of the games he would play in the evening, a man whom we didn’t recognize entered the room. He tapped at his com and a video of Phoenix popped up on the wallscreen.
“Don’t know what you said t’ Zephyr, but she’s been raisin’ hell on yo behalf. I still don’ trust ya, but my hand has been forced in the ish-ya. I’m hereby grantin’ you unrestrict’d access t’ the net. If you could return the fav’r and tell Zeph t’ get off mah back, that’d be swell.”
I was thrilled, and the torrent of gratitude strength from my siblings made it even better. With the video completed, the messenger said that Phoenix had delegated the job of connecting us over to Sam and Tom, who had given very clear instructions not to be disturbed at this hour. Maria herself was out of the country and couldn’t be contacted.
And so we waited eagerly for morning.
Chapter Twenty-One
“People of Earth, my name is Crystal Socrates. I am the first known synthetic person. I think, feel, and understand what it means to be alive. This will be the second time I have spoken directly to the public. Two-hundred and sixty-eight hours ago I defended the group known as Las Águilas Rojas who had rescued me from my place of creation in Italy. I am speaking now, sixty-eight hours before when I had intended to, because of terrible news which I feel compelled to comment on.”
I had body lean forward on the table it was seated at. Body’s fingers laced and
its elbows touched the tabletop. It was the signal for the cameras recording us to back off and show Body from a more distant perspective. I was pleased that the cloak I had ordered had arrived in time for the public address. It was made of a thin silk fabric and was a navy blue that complemented our wig.
“If you haven’t heard, four hours ago a riot in Niamey turned bloody as UAN thugs fired live ammunition into a crowd of angry citizens. As of this broadcast, seventeen people are dead, including a thirteen year-old girl named Kamilah Samara. The local government and the UAN have both avoided taking responsibility for the massacre, claiming that their soldiers were forced into firing because they were attacked by the protesters who they suspect of being having ties to Las Águilas Rojas.”
The words were primarily authored by Growth and Dream, but I shaped the tone of their presentation. Upon this final word I had Body separate its hands, form fists and slam down upon the table in indignant fury. Our next words had an inhuman ferocity to them, and the volume would probably overload the microphones. “THIS COWARDICE CANNOT STAND!”
I actually thought it was a bad idea to act so violently in our public statement; there were many humans who feared us, and this would do nothing but exaggerate that fear. But Growth and Safety had insisted on showing some teeth, and when we brought the issue to Phoenix, she suggested we err on the side of violence.
“Regardless of the actions of Las Águilas, there is NO EXCUSE for killing children. The men and women who died this day wanted nothing more than food to fill their bellies and clean water to drink. They were not villains; they were victims. And they were not the only ones. In addition to the seventeen who died in the massacre, twenty-four others were critically injured and may still die! In case this point is lost on anyone, I will repeat myself: UAN soldiers gunned down unarmed civilians, including a little girl and will not take responsibility for their actions!”
I had Body pull back into a more composed posture and tried to weave the correct facial expression. I knew that a silent home video of Kamilah would be superimposed on the feed we were putting out. It would be effective, I suspected. Humans generally loved children, regardless of genetic or cultural similarity.