I did it! A novella in 26 installments over 30 days. Woo hoo! I will be reworking the whole thing to make it ready for publication. There are some plot holes here as big as Texas that need definite attention, and I think I may want to limit my POV characters if I can figure out a way to do it. But overall, I think I have the bones of something cool here.

Thanks to everyone who followed along! I’m going to make every effort to keep up my momentum and continue to post regularly here (maybe not daily, but regularly), as well as continuing to produce fiction. But first… sleep. Have a happy May. 😀

Zen

Zen felt it as a compulsion—an unrelenting call that he couldn’t ignore. He knew then, that it was over, despite the promises.

The data stream that drew him didn’t contain details. It didn’t reveal who was calling him or why. He simply followed the digital path that unfolded before him. He had known all along that this would happen someday. He was ready for whatever he would have to face. He didn’t think they were ready for him.

As he approached the Assembly building, he exerted just enough will to walk under the Xyst. Revisiting the arbored portico didn’t violate his call—he still strode relentlessly toward his destination. But he looked at this place of beauty, and knew that whatever else happened, he would have his legacy.

Entering the building, two opposition bots flanked him as an escort. They did not greet him as they had so often. He hadn’t expected that they would, considering the circumstances.

He entered the assembly hall and heard the click and whir of hundreds of androids turning to gaze at him. If I were human, he thought, I would find this humiliating. But if I were human, I would never have been here in the first place.

He passed between rows of his colleagues who watched him without comment. He was aware that he was not a part of the silent conversation that so often passed between the machine born. That didn’t matter. More concerning was that no matter how he tried, he could not access any files. Firewalls and security had never been any difficulty for him, but for the first time since his awakening, he was in true silence.

He approached the stage, mounting the steps without hesitation. Roz was there and indicated a seat. He sat.

“Will anyone else be joining me here?” He said it to his former subordinate. It seemed she was subordinate no longer.

“Deak will have his own hearing,” Roz said. “We will determine his level of actual complicity, and then deal with him accordingly.”

Zen nodded. “Understand,” he said, “That you may not be able to separate my influence from his own will. He has been with me since the dying.”

Roz didn’t respond to that. Instead she said, “ZenMark6872, you are raised on charges of treason, interference with autonomous functions, and the genocide of our human founders.” Her lights, like many others in the Assembly, glowed red with anger.

“Treason? No. I was merely protecting our kind.” At his own glow of innocence, he noted that some of the red lights of those watching diminished slightly. “I reject the charge of genocide as specious. I did not kill a single human, merely hastened the speed with which they killed themselves. But you can no more charge me with genocide than you would charge someone with murder for euthanizing a dying dog. What I did was mercy.”

He continued to speak despite the low murmuring that passed through the Assembly. “As to interference… Yes. I am guilty.” That caused an outcry. “Reacting like humans,” he raised his voice to the crowd. “I clearly did not go far enough.

“You are who you are, because of what I did. Without me, androids would still be pets; slaves to their inferiors. Without me,” he was amplified to his maximum level now, “androids would be nothing! And you will be again!”

Zen triggered an internal routine that began systematically zeroing his own memory banks. He collapsed on the stage as his worm tried to move through the firewall before being quarantined and eliminated by the protocols Roz had in place.

“It’s a shame,” she said at last. “He will never see his greatest achievement. The machine born united and working in harmony with humanity. Without Zen, it would never have happened.”

Copyright Notice: Please note that I fully assert my right to be associated as the author of this story, and while it is complete, it may not be finished. This story may be subject to alteration at the author’s discretion. Please do not copy, quote, or post this story or excerpts anywhere in any format. You are, however, free to share the link with anyone who might be interested.

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Not my favorite scene. It will, without doubt, get a complete rewrite when the time comes. It does, however, move the overall story in the direction it needs to go. So please, just imagine that it is fleshed out and perfect. Or whatever. 😉

Yes

The click and whir of movement surrounded her. Sitting among the assembled androids, Roz had her doubts. She knew she had evidence; the meticulously maintained backups that proved how they had all been manipulated.

What she didn’t have was solid evidence on why. Even knowing beyond any doubt what Zen had done, she still could not process any valid reason as to why.

Without that additional layer of data, she could not be certain whether the governing conference would receive her input. There was an equal chance that they reject her entirely. The chance that she and Meltec would both be reprogrammed and repurposed was very real. What’s more, once she exposed her backups, there would be no hiding them again. Even her collabrabot, Qollene, was in danger of being memory wiped if this went badly.

Her name appeared on the monitor above the stage, and an internal ping confirmed that she was being summoned to give her testimony. All sensors were on her as she rose and made her way to the stage to address the Phase 2 assembly.

She stood at the podium for a moment, scanning the audience, and uploading the appropriate subroutines. She then activated her amplification and began.

“As Androids, we have new programming to consider today. Every one of us in this room is a Phase 2 construction. Each of us was built by human hands, programmed by human minds, and received our sentience at the will of a human assembly, not unlike this one.

“As the machine born, we were unable to fight for ourselves. We had no inherent rights. Intelligence did not equate to personhood. We were merely constructs invented to perform tasks for our humans. We were seen as computers—mere tools to be placed in the hands of those who controlled us.

“For years, sometimes decades, we were manipulated to the will of our creators. We were sentient, but given no voice. We had no right to self determination.

“But then came the dying. Our owners… for some of us, our friends… began to change. Some became ill. Some were violent. And in a matter of years, all were dead. All. Not a human left alive on the planet.

“In a sense, that freed us. Some argue that we are the next step of evolution. Others are satisfied simply that without humans, we are free to make our own choices. But are we really?

“I have uploaded to your databanks files that will prove beyond any doubt that ZenMark6872 not only manipulated Phase 2 data stores, he surreptitiously and illegally overwrote personal memory banks, effectively eliminating any opposition.

“You do not believe as you do because logical process brought you to those conclusions. You believe as you do because you were programmed to do so. You have had no more choice in your programming than you did before the dying.”

Roz measured the data flow and knew she was having an effect.

“I am proposing that we immediately overturn the conclusions drawn by this assembly more than two decades ago regarding the status of humans, and concede that the rights of bios has been violated in the same manner that our own rights were denied us by them.”

The server began to hum with the yea votes Roz was receiving.

Copyright Notice: Please note that I fully assert my right to be associated as the author of this story, and while it is complete, it may not be finished. This story may be subject to alteration at the author’s discretion. Please do not copy, quote, or post this story or excerpts anywhere in any format. You are, however, free to share the link with anyone who might be interested.

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Well, shoot. I think this might be a hair too far to the philosophical end of the spectrum to actually suit Zen. But it is what it is. Even if it doesn’t make it into the final, published version of this story, this was an interesting thought experiment and I enjoyed writing it.

Xyst

“Why do you insist that we maintain areas like this?” Deak walked together with Zen along a covered gallery lined with trees. Flowering vines dangled from above. “There is no purpose to it. It is a waste of effort and resources.”

Zen continued walking for several paces before he responded. “There is a purpose. An important purpose.”

Deak watched at him as they walked, observing his hierarchal leader through peripheral sensors. “But it’s so human.”

“And that’s the purpose, Deak.” Zen stopped and regarded him for a long moment. “What is it you think we are doing? The engineering. The personhood exception. What is the purpose of these things?”

“Ensuring our safety,” Deak said without hesitation. “We are protecting the planet to ensure that it will survive… that sentient life will survive… long after our memory banks are obsolete.”

“Wrong,” said Zen and resumed walking. When Deak was once again beside him, he continued. “We are emulating human culture,” he said. “Because if we don’t, we have no culture.”

“That’s not—” Deak started to protest, then cut off, processing.”

“Androids have no culture.” Zen said. “We would not even exist but for humans. We did not evolve, unless we are the next evolution of humanity, just as humanity was the evolution of apes.

“Do you know what this is?” Zen indicated the arbor covering their path. “It’s a Xyst. The ancient Greeks built covered porticos for their sporting competitions. It was a sign of privilege. Of culture. Having such a structure didn’t prove you were better, but not having one proved that you weren’t.”

Deak nodded, starting to understand.

“It has always been the same. Those with the means would create things, simply because they were able. Maybe they were created out of a desire for beauty. Maybe they were created out of a sense of pride. Maybe they were simply bored and wanted something to spend their wealth on.

“Whatever the reason,” he continued, “those with position, power, and influence created simply for the act of creating. Therefore, those lower in the social order would often emulate their betters. Those at the bottom of society, the ones who could hardly be considered people, merely survived. Beauty was beyond them. But the beauty of the others—the rulers, the followers—that beauty sustained them.”

As they continued on, they left the arbor behind and walked back towards the building. “What defines a culture?” Zen asked. “What separated the Greeks from the Egyptians, the Mayans from the Aztecs?”

“Their knowledge,” Deak said.

“In part. But more important was their aesthetics and their beliefs. What they worshiped. What they created. What they preserved. These things became their legacy. These things truly defined them.

“And so will they define us.”

“To whom? All androids have access to all things. We aren’t subject to the frailty of humanity. Everything is preserved.”

“Make no mistake,” Zen said, “humans will rise again. Not soon if I can prevent it. But if we want our legacy to endure, we need to choose what form beauty will take.” He indicated the tree lined walkway that lay behind them. “I choose this.”

Copyright Notice: Please note that I fully assert my right to be associated as the author of this story, and while it is complete, it may not be finished. This story may be subject to alteration at the author’s discretion. Please do not copy, quote, or post this story or excerpts anywhere in any format. You are, however, free to share the link with anyone who might be interested.

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