I thought it would be a great topic to talk about birds. Birds are a type of...creature? Thing? Being? Oh, animal. Right.
The bird is often used to represent freedom to the human race, used in many different media. That media ranges from your dystopian world in which a government rules with an iron fist to a person unsatisfied with their life and looking for something different. It applies to many things, and those who want to take symbolizing the bird a step further will turn freedom into a birdcage. Trapped in a small area where everywhere you look, you see wires. The food provided is fed by the outside forces, and you are given little choice but to praise and succumb to the hand that feeds you.
People symbolize the bird way too much, and its overuse has made any mention of it eye-rolling.
And here I am, stuck in this green isolation where birds frolicked until they hit the glass, and ducklings swam in the water for whatever reason. Even then, somehow, nature still blooms its brightest colors without failure. The nutrients in the soil remain rich, the water forever clear and free of any contaminants, and the ground that was supposed to be made of dirt was clean. How exactly could dirt be clean?
This environment was the esteeming image of purification and the dream of those who sought freedom. It did well to disguise itself, but it was nothing more than a lie. The dirt, the grass, the trees, and the water were not hologram mockups, but they were instead...real.
Illusions work perfectly well when they are imperfect, but everything in this cage of mine was perfect. People come in here every once in a while to replace the dirt. As for the water, you can fill in the blank.
People. They served as a reminder that everything around me was tailored to suit a livable space where you can't go wrong with the color green and brown. These people were masters of scenery painting but also gardening. It came to the point where I believed these people, whose faces never changed, were born with a green thumb. They come every so often in a pattern that can't be written on a calendar. An erratic schedule that itched my mind whenever I thought I would get a moment of no interaction.
They looked at me with a sign of respect when I talk to them. I can't help but notice these little things when they were my only interaction. I guess you could say it was one of my flaws, but I can't really help. My mouth opens faster than I think, and I feel like I would insult them for noticing a little change. The males would be surprised, and the females blushed. You note things about them and pick up a conversation with the thing you noticed. I had to stop doing that, and at some point, I stopped pointing out anything that seemed to pick at my brain. It garnered a response that caught me by surprise.
"You seem down today, Otonashi."
"Is something the matter?"
"You okay?"
The response was of concern, which only had me stare at them in confusion. They were okay with me pointing out the little things? I had to ask them.
"It never bothered me, no."
"You thought of yourself as rude? How funny!"
"Nah, I don't mind. You starting up a conversation helps me, actually."
I still felt terrible nonetheless, and I would eventually bid them farewell before I went back to work. It's pretty ironic how I mentioned the bird being in a cage when I chose to stay inside a house most of the time. The place I lived in was a dome of some sort, and inside of it was the nature that's constantly replaced. Somewhere in that nature is my house, a mansion, or something that scaled to the size of one. It was excellent in terms of design with hints of a holy church and combined with modern architecture. It was hard to describe this structure considering I never took the time to admire its beauty; however, I don't know what constitutes beautiful architecture from one house to the next.
My mansion was accompanied by a slightly muffled silence that is constantly overshadowed by the noises outside. It wasn't, by all means, the isolation you would find in a solitary confinement cell, where all your senses are stripped of being stimulated. It was nice, though repetitive.
Contrasting the fundamental building blocks of Earth came machinery of imagination that can only be visualized through movies. It made beeps and boops to signify whatever I wanted it to be: an experiment has failed, a sliver of code had errored, or it was time for me to get out and get sunshine. My imagination held no bounds, and these machines were my tools to make...things.
I'm a scientist, is what I would say in layman's terms. My official title was a "biological mechanics and robotics consultant." I made up the name, and the organization I worked for co-opted it. They were great at co-opting things, and I get to call myself "the consultant." It was nice to be heard out, but I was sure this was only a treat given by the higher-ups in order to get me to do the work they gave me.
These higher-ups had a name: Progenitors. Synonym to words like father, predecessors, parents, or creators.
They weren't anything of legends when I compared myself to them. Some were of the scientific type, some were more military, some were just ordinary people, and some were investors. They had a lot of things in common but what made this organization so powerful was their vision. Only a few congregations could get away with not having their top brass chosen by their investors, and this was one of them. Somehow, they engaged in the battle of a word that I truly despise.
Politics. A necessary and extremely dirty battlefield where a decision was always opposed unless fear had usurped the entirety of the population. You really could never make everyone happy unless you could feed it to them through a tube. Even then, people would find something to complain about, but it never was truly wrong. You give them the perfect reality, and they could discover how fake it was.
I never understood what kind of thinking lead up to that. I only sought to make life better for others, and I am tossed in here, given everything that I want at the expense of being close and accessible. A lifestyle like this was bearable, but there are times where I would venture out of the dome with permission and to see the world that I contributed to.
A short trip and I would be back to the cities where life seemed not too shabby. Portrayals of a first-world country often highlight a hidden sadness behind those living in the city life, but I believe that was a fallacy. Unless more extraordinary circumstances changed the ways of what we do every day and we are restricted from moving, that sadness is nothing more than an over-romanticization of hope for a better future.
It's the way we live. You can be sad or happy or whatever, no matter where you are. It's not that deep.
My creations were around every few blocks, but I am not credited or praised for my givings to society. The limbs of people were restored by my hands to near perfection, passing the limits of prosthetic limbs. It became a universally accessible technology, following a formula of massive testing and regulation by the governments and medical boards of the world. The Progenitors wanted to give due credit, but I denied it. They can take the fame as long as they funded my projects, and each of my manufactured products required a signature that was to be my name. They came up with a laser engraving which to me was an obvious choice. I couldn't help but make a joke.
I would've preferred they just used a marker, is what I said. That scored some points with them, and a lot of hearty laughs filled their meeting chamber. It made me crack a smile at my own humor.
Those who lived in my mansion had won the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine, which was technically the truth. We compose a group of significant minds that break the limits of what we know and push computer parts to their capacity. They all had a hand in developing my inventions, even though I did most of the work.
My creations lived in human beings that had lost their limbs, and my name was etched onto every single one of them, claiming that their ability to live a normal human life was by my hand. My thoughts sometimes wander to the dark side. If I had not existed or pushed myself to get to this point, they would be amputees, living without the strains of a normal human.
Even after creating a series of life-altering procedures and the technology that can bring back someone's humanity, I never really was delighted with what I've accomplished. I wanted to bring more to the table, and it's not like I had much choice in the matter either. So I continued, making things that could make being human a lot easier. I never appreciated the fact that my projects were always on a waiting list.
A chirp and vibration from my phone indicated that I had received a message. Sitting up, I took it out of my pocket and unlocked my phone through its facial recognition. Swiping and touching the various screens and buttons, I got to the source of the noise and read it.
From: Research & Development Bureau
Subject: Project Submission Status
Thank you for your submission, Consultant. We have thoroughly reviewed your submission. Your submission has been waitlisted due to a high volume of project submissions from various research and development centers, the meticulous nature of a further review, and testing for practical application.
See attached for further information and contact details regarding your submission.
Another waitlisted submission. I should've known. Even the attached document didn't even give me much information other than beating around the bush and going back to a 'high volume' of submissions. Outright denial would've been preferred, but I told myself that there must be some use for it if it wasn't denied. It must've fallen low on a tier list. Unfortunately, remnants of this organization's origins as a corporation remained, with perfect ideas that had a high chance of outcome and profit ruled all other proper contributions to society.
Sighing, I let myself fall onto the bed of grass that I was already sitting down on. My frustration was immeasurable as the number of my unfinished projects grew in number. Even if I had access to many materials, it was hard to keep my motivation for working on projects that won't leave the waitlisted stage. Only the biomechanical prosthetics were the only thing that I had to show for, and despite its fingerprint, there were still other researchers and doctors like me who had the spotlight. I knew I was on a different level than these geeks, but I am only ever consulted on my prosthetics. Anything asked of me related only to prosthetics and none of my other work-in-progress projects.
I guess the name I had made for myself was more of a curse, as my creative mind was being shut down by restriction.
Bang. The sound of something hitting a portion of glass began to vibrate the dome a bit, shaking only briefly.
That was something unfamiliar. I thought to myself.
I stood up and stretched; the brief strain on my muscles provided much-needed relief to my arms, legs, and stomach. I walked through the artificial forest, the scent of wet soil hitting my nostrils. The soil had changed once again and was briefly watered to get that overwhelming air. At some point, even the refreshing air will make me sick.
The border of the glass dome had nothing impeding its view to the outside, only marked by a few feet of flat grass that were freshly mowed. No traces of leftover grass was seen near my feet, but it was instead something flapping around, rustling the border to no avail. I looked at the glass dome, which had a brief streak of red. It didn't drip, but I was drawn to touch it.
The red attached to my finger.
"Blood?"
A bird had hit the dome at high speed, mistaking the glass dome as non-existent. It continued to flap and squeal near my feet, and I lowered myself in a poor attempt to grab it. I wanted to fix the little thing, and I had the means to do so, but it wandered and jumped around back into the forest, disappearing from my sight.
I was aware that animals never really trusted anything, much less while it's in pain. Such a thing shouldn't have come as a surprise to me, but even if I reached my arm out, it wouldn't come to me for comfort or healing. It was disappointing. The only recognition it gave me was only to tell me to stay away.
The little bird was going to die if it kept wobbling as it did. Bones could break, vessels can be snapped, and more bleeding can be induced. Rehabilitation could've perhaps solved his problem, but I had a feeling it knew it was going to die. To choose your final resting place was a privilege only offered to those who knew the time they were expected to die.
I looked off into the direction the bird went off to. A look of pity had formed on my face as it moved even I could no longer see it. The sound of its movements has been shut out by the bird's increased distance from my location and the rotations of a flying machine.
The glass dome rumbled, and the area around me darkened. With the sun still out, something had entered above me and the dome.
I had looked up and seen the view of a black helicopter, flying over and disturbing the land around me and the place that I had called my home. It was escorted by other helicopters, protecting whatever precious cargo it had. A bit of the sun passed through the blades and hit my eyeball, annoyingly stunning me. I shielded the bright light away with my hand, looking in awe of the majestic beauty of human engineering. The helicopter brought humans to the sky, and this particular model was made for the military.
Looking up at that helicopter, it slowly hovered and maneuvered through the air, attempting to find a suitable place to land while the others circled it. Everything after this point was where my life changed. I questioned my beliefs, what was true, who I was, and what I wanted.
Seeking to create the ultimate technology to surpass our current technological advances was my goal, yet I am stuck here, not reaping the benefits and living what should have been a "proper" life. My service to humanity has been awarded, but I had chosen to deny it and accept the little bits of scraps.
The bird, a child of mother nature, was trapped inside a cage and no longer lived because of that cage. It can fly, but it can't leave. On the other hand, a helicopter made out of metal parts could venture out and do anything, and it could live for a long time as long as the parts were replaced, and it was well maintained. It goes to a repair yard or hanger to go out once more.
Where does a bird who cannot fly go?
I had already answered that, and that answer was one hundred percent true because I am that bird.
I'm the epitome of human hypocrisy.
Words.
Since my initialization, one of the most difficult aspects of coming to was communicating with people. Words have various definitions to them, and even if a word is said in a certain fashion, there are sometimes implications that I can't see or process.
My parents told me there are times where you would be unable to fully interpret someone's actions even if everything points to a certain outcome, only for the result to be opposite or a variation of what you would expect.
It's a fascinating feat as I would understand the actions that I take, only to be told otherwise by nearby acquaintances that I am one of the most confusing people to date. They told me that their expectations of me were to be more robotic and more obedient, to which I tell them it's what I've learned. I have to account for my personal needs, maintenance, and what's best for me while also considering the totality of circumstances.
I have an understanding of what's expected of me, but some choices I make are often based on the totality of circumstances. If there is nothing for me to do or I am not being used for their purposes, I take the time to maintain myself or use that time to learn.
It's puzzling, living under a hierarchy and a set of rules that for some reason supersede mine when they don't make logical sense. Every explanation given was only contradictory, but they told me to 'take it with a grain of salt' and just follow orders; otherwise, certain privileges relevant to maintaining myself in the best fashion would be restricted. Detrimental as it may be to me, I listened to what they say, but I wholeheartedly disagree with their methods.
There is an array of words that correspond with the value of humans, and each word seems to contradict the other. Humans are confusing creatures.
Even so, listening and following the orders of humans, specifically mother and father, is how I always lived.
It was inspection time.
I looked at my arm and initiated a self-check sequence. An internal scan revealed nothing out of acceptable parameters. A visual scan was always required, and so I revealed a portion of my arm to its original state. From what was supposed to be porcelain, light skin had become digitized; with each tiny projection from my organic skin had shut off temporarily, the entirety of my forearm had become a shiny white with lines separating parts of my arm. It was void of any scratches or dents.
Although visibly acceptable, I could tell a layer of stickiness had made its way in the lines where my arms would often bend.
"You shouldn't expose your skin like that. You'll freak people out."
So I was often told.
"Everyone around me recognizes what I am," I replied back to my supervisor. There were layers of people who had some sort of meaning to me. Each level had a certain number of people, but there were two people who I listened to and obeyed orders that superseded others: mother and father. These two were to set the precedent of what I was supposed to be, and I learned and grew beneath them.
Their official profiles listed them as a male and female researcher for the organization I serve, with both holding a romantic relationship with each other. It is because of them I act the way I am now, and according to other researchers, I was a rebel against the system I was meant to serve. An experiment that turned against them, even though I was simply following instructions. Taking into account their possible expectations and information spread about me, their reactions and words aren't outside my calculations.
"I want to take a bath," I requested.
"Exhibit some self-restraint, Seven. Why not take a shower?"
"Soaking myself in water will allow me to cleanse myself properly before anything else."
I turned to one of my guards, who sat in his chair looking straight ahead at the pilots.
"Hey. Can you confirm that there's a layer of stickiness inside my arm?" I showed my still grey arm to the guard, waiting for his confirmation to illustrate my point.
"Leave him alone."
I retracted my arm and turned on the camouflage once more, my limb now regenerating its set skin color. I silently questioned these people around me. There was a human word that seemed to describe my array of thoughts correctly.
Annoyed.
Looking out the window towards the approach of the research facility, I can see other helicopters that had escorted us, flying in a pattern that allows easy maneuverability and protection from a possible attack. The helicopter I was in slowed itself down, signifying that we are in the phase of arrival to our destination.
Looking down, the sun reflected off a large glass dome that had a large mansion set in the middle of it. Beyond that mansion was a pool of water, nearly transparent enough to see the very bottom.
"Found a bath."
I had formed my own destination, and no one was going to interfere. With nothing to do until the next day, they'll understand.
"Did you guys see those helicopters above? I haven't seen anything like it."
"Yeah! I never get an escort like that."
Chatter filled the living room of the unusual event that took place not too long ago. Something or someone significant had come through to their research facility and had made a ruckus, causing conversations that derived from speculation. Theories were had, but one of the many scientists that had gathered had brought anecdotal evidence that can't be refuted.
"A cybernetic human?"
"A person who had heavy mechanical augmentation? How is a cybernetic human any different from that?"
"Apparently, it's the first-ever artificial intelligence to 'grow.' Kind of like a learning machine."
"Uh, what?"
"Learning machines have been a thing since...forever."
"An AI or an android seems to fit the name more than a cybernetic human."
"You're missing the point. This AI was given a body with one instruction."
And they talked. Officially, such technology was never revealed to the public for various reasons by The Progenitors. Unofficially, this artificial intelligence was a project that hadn't gotten its total momentum until a scientist was able to discover a way to store a computer within a small area. There were other obstacles to overcome, most notably trying to find a way for artificial intelligence to operate on its own independent thought. Algorithms, equations, and the added complexity of argument formulation and working body parts made reaching the goal of an operational artificial intelligence in its own body extremely difficult.
It didn't stop those who initiated the project from setting the foundations.
The results would always end up the same: Independent thinking was impossible that followed the Three Laws of Robotics from a standalone adult-sized cybernetic body. Other issues arose regarding how to house the intelligence, as technology had not progressed far enough to allow processing and storage capabilities similar to humans.
An idea had come up to push the boundaries of each cycle of technology. As more and more focus is put into research and development, the first iteration of artificial intelligence was created on a supercomputer. Setback, success, setback. The number of failures and successes were equal to each other, but with each success came progress and a possibility.
Chips became smaller and more efficient, and a fully functional form of intelligence was given a designation to signify what body it was in.
"And then, the people who ran the experiment finally got to the human part. Following every single instinct that a human baby is supposed to do, they gave the most simple yet complex instruction."
"What was the instruction?"
"Survive."
The room had grown to become silent, but they all recognized the truth that was said before them. All animals are born with the instinct to survive, and they would seek guidance from their food source as they began to grow and learn. So the motion was put into play, and with each generation of artificial intelligence, more capabilities were added, and eventually, a metal body was given to the learning machine.
For the sake of ensuring the experiment would bring literal results, they had to follow the standard pathway to human life. Two people were designated as the parents, teaching the intelligence almost as if it was a real human baby. Other scientists only stood by to record and interpret the results as well as ensuring the body was in working order.
Such an extraordinary experiment continues to this day.
Otonashi had wandered through the trapped forest, looking to waste time by whatever means. The mood wasn't proper, and a bad taste was left in his mouth following his latest scientific submission. His subconscious knocked on his logical mindset, begging to invade his mind and convert him to a carefree person for the time being. He indulged it, letting himself be lazy for an unset amount of time.
Hands in pockets, he noted the changes the gardeners did to the land. The dirt was patted down, some individual pieces crushed down to form a flat surface of imperfection, cracks resonating throughout the entire settlements of soil. All this work only to be chucked off at a later date to preserve the freshness of the environment, abiding by the theme of conformity.
Rays of sunshine pierced through the straightest paths that remained open, causing random patterns to form by Otonashi's feet as he guided himself through nature's maze. Each laser emitted from the sun would pass over his head and his shoulders as he searched for any sign of the missing bird. A chirp, a rustle, or a screech of pain would've been good to hear. An indication of it being alive would mean a chance to save it.
Humans have abilities that can only be felt if they focus on specific aspects or fundamentals. One human can detect if they require sodium and grab a bag of pretzels, or one can notice that the air has become slightly more humid through his nose being filled somewhat more than usual.
When living in relative isolation, the brain doesn't have to block out all the incoming signals and can perfectly process each thought and sense. Otonashi knew that he was about to stumble upon the crystal lake that constantly released its ever-changing moisture. It came into view, embedded in the ground and monstrous in scale, reaching from close to the middle of the dome towards the end. Its reflection blurred the vision of those who viewed it, blinding portions of their eyes and forcing them to view only the water close to them. The body of water that lied.
Every now and then, the water was filtered or outright replaced, leaving the contaminants in whatever treatment facility existed beyond the dome. While the rest of the world's oceans became contaminated by the touch of a human, this one was forever pure. Drinkable for an eternity, young in age, and sparkling forever.
Splash.
He inadvertently stepped into the water, his shoes water-resistant only for temporary until they began to get overwhelmed. The cold prison began to rise up his legs as he stepped forward.
Splash.
Whatever warmth he had in his legs had left, going into the water to follow the laws of thermodynamics. A refreshing, cold prison meant to remind him of where he belonged. Somehow, he sought a reason to find a hidden message. What was there beyond the fake water that made it so transparent? A dystopia to rebel against? A secret trio pulling the strings of his organization? A person seeking total control? Something or someone must've been present that was looking to destroy their very way of life.
And yet, there wasn't anything to make reasonable assumptions out of. Would sinking deeper into the water make the answer a lot more clear?
Water fell out of his hand as he scooped it out. Eyeing the water, it magnified his skin with drops falling off the side and crevices of his hand. A sip quickly reminded him of the joys of water that had a pH of seven: nothing acidic or alkaline but just the perfect balance.
Something disturbed the tranquility of the water as ripples began to animate themselves towards Otonashi. Beyond his hand, a humanoid figure lay on top of the water, staying completely still and letting the water guide her to a non-existent destination.
A slight mist blocked him from seeing the humanoid figure in full detail; however, parts of her stuck out that distinguished her as a female. She began to change her form, actively swimming to reach a destination before she took a dive, leaving behind more ripples and the sound of splashing before silence. Something of a slider had slowly raised the volume of the forest as it began to make noises once again, with the female no longer making its appearance.
"She sure is enjoying herself."
Otonashi turned around, stepping out of the water, and sat down along the edge. The thought began to slowly seep into his mind as he realized that from the bare details he could see of the female, she was not a familiar acquaintance. She didn't fall in the line of personnel that was classified as gardeners or security, nor was she a person that lived in the prison of a mansion as he did.
What is a woman of unknown origin doing in a place like this?
His curiosity began to peak as the woman didn't seem to rise out of the water for a prolonged amount of time. Drowning is often not like the movies where one yells for help. It's a silent killer, where one focuses on getting air, and therefore they will not talk. They will be submerged and are often unable to move, sometimes thinking that pushing down on the water will let them breathe. However, water only fills back up the place they push down on. To spot drowning, one would have to be very observant.
Otonashi began looking towards her previous known position out of concern before the noise of displaced water touched his eardrums. Looking to his right, the female figure had successfully got out of the lake without drowning.
He didn't expect to be struck with such profound beauty. He was encapsulated with the beauty of the human body's naked skin. Porcelain skin as fragile as ever, with drops of water glistening down her body from her arms to her fingertips. Her skin held one unique pigment all around, with no hint of scars, scratches, or bruising. The woman before him held no imperfections.
In the sun, her hair shined dark blue, going all the way down her back. As it absorbed all the water, it weighed down, being straight as it could be.
No sane man could resist staring, especially at her eyes. They were two tiny targets to spot, but there was a hint of red that added to the lethality of her looks. At this time, he would agree with the saying that looks could kill. He was on a cloud, close to reaching heaven from adoring such a woman.
However, the porcelain human skin tone that was on her arms had slowly disappeared and faded into a plastic white. With something that looked similar to a prosthetic, he was caught off guard but kept his eyes on her, waiting for more to be revealed and to see what a thing like her will do next. From her arms, the plastic white look spread onto her legs, but her torso remained the normal pigment she previously had. There was no gradient that changed her arm's color gradually to her torso. It was instantaneous, and despite her human looks, she was not a human.
It all made sense.
The human goddess that was before him was perfect in every way. There isn't any explanation for astounding beauty, but there was one now.
She was completely synthetic. Android-like. She was able to manipulate the various parts of her body in irregular fashions that would be disturbing or traumatizing. A being that could perfectly mimic the human body. Acting and talking like a human. Hiding in plain sight.
It was a terrifying sight to behold. It was even worse when she looked toward his way, her expression similar to when one plays a game of poker. It was straight with a goal of deception in mind. After noticing the human, she walked toward him with her arms still a completely different color and tone. One would depict her demeanor as a serial killer who held no feelings, in which they would only be half right.
His memory recalled her—a project in which The Progenitors had shared amongst the organization. Various nicknames were given to her by the different staff: the cybernetic human, the synth, the fake, or the android. No one seemed to use her official designation for an odd reason. Perhaps these nicknames brought comfort to those who made them for her, as it provided a level of distinguishment. With these names, they degraded her. Speciesism, or whatever the discrimination against this artificial intelligence was.
With each step, she grew close, and for some reason, her figure only got taller. He could only look at her face, still captured by the visible facts surrounding her looks, and she stopped in front of him.
"Hello," she greeted Otonashi.
He could feel the words stick in his throat, unable to be formulated due to her sudden choice of striking up a greeting.
"Uh, hello," he responded back to her, slowly nodding his head to show any form of respect.
"Were you looking at me as I swam in the water?"
The jig was up. He was revealed, and his perverse acts will forever follow him to the end of time as long as his file was accessible. He had to come clean, but there was no good way to come about it.
"I was staring at you, yes."
"I see. If I may ask, what for?" She further pressed on about his actions, noting that he began to shift uncomfortably. His uneasiness became something to address.
"If you don't feel comfortable answering, you don't have to say anything."
The statement from her completely betrayed what he expected her to do, which was to remain silent until he answered the question. Now there was an urge to say something, and the need to remain truthful still was of importance.
"Well, I am uncomfortable answering, however hearing something so respectful for someone who has disrespected you is...weird," he admitted quickly. She had tilted her head in response, and her facial expression had changed to one of confusion. Knowing behind that face was just cybernetics and electronic components was unsettling.
"How did you disrespect me?"
Otonashi scratched the back of his head, averting his gaze. Even staring at a nude body felt like something he shouldn't do without permission.
"I stared at you when you were naked."
"So it seems. Logically, you wouldn't have known that I would be here, so please don't bear a fault to something that was out of your control."
"...I see, then I won't do so," he replied in relief. Silence had filled the space for the time being. With so many things unknown about the project that stood in front of him, there was an appetite to ask a few questions. He opened his mouth, a creative mind eager to learn from the intelligence that always learns.
"You're that project that many researchers talk about. What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to take a bath."
"A...bath?" Hearing the cybernetic human mention something like a bath was fascinating.
"There was some stickiness in the crevice of my body parts, and I needed to cleanse myself."
"I see. Would a bath also happen to provide cooling to your body parts?"
She had looked at Otonashi before resuming her human camouflage, returning her skin to its original color. She turned around and walked away, and Otonashi sighed in defeat, berating himself for asking a question that was most likely classified. A person of his status still had no right to question what happens to her, and there had to be protocols in place to prevent her from revealing information of that sort.
Looking up at the dome, he missed a good chance to potentially gather some information or data for his next project, that is, until footsteps were heard behind him. He turned his head to see the cybernetic human moving beside him before taking a seat, both her knees in front of her, and she brought them close to her chest. She had put on her clothes which consisted of a white and blue school uniform with a red ribbon attached.
"Apologies. I went to put on clothes to ease you."
"It's really no big deal," he replied to her carefully. His shoulders eased up as she was able to process a concern of his, which was nice. At least he wouldn't be branded a pervert, lost his position, or both.
"To answer your question, yes. Taking a bath or shower helps cool my body parts, although cool ambient air temperature is sufficient enough."
"Hm..." Otonashi thought about her answer, and she continued.
"I'm required to perform at a certain numerical efficiency, which is sometimes put higher than a set limit. Taking a shower or bath helps keep my internal components at a cooler temperature, prolonging their lifespan before a replacement is needed."
While all the technical mumbo jumbo she spouted out made sense, he wanted to confirm that her words are similar to what he was imagining.
"Similar to overclocking?" He asked.
"For analogy's sake, yes. Increased power usage generates heat, and the limitations of this body don't allow for constant and efficient internal cooling. If I choose to, every breath I exhale can be, according to your standards, hot."
As she spoke each word, Otonashi couldn't help but analyze the voice she has. It was mysterious and low but almost expected. Humans have their own way of speaking, have their own terms and slang. She doesn't pronounce any word a certain way, only doing it in a way that can be described as clear to where any person who understands the language would be able to understand its implied definition.
"You're wearing a coat. You're a researcher or doctor of some sort?" She struck up a question of her own.
"I am. You must have a file system or something there, right?" He asked her.
"Correct," she confirmed his suspicion.
"If you have any personnel files, search me up. Yuzuru Otonashi, consultant."
She remained silent for a few seconds, though she closed her eyes, trying to find his specific file. With the way she acted, it was almost akin to a human trying to remember something they had forgotten.
"Yuzuru Otonashi. Biological mechanics and robotics consultant. Critically acclaimed for advancements in the science of prosthesis, but refused to take credit." She had spoke out the exact details that read in her internal records that she accessed.
"...The information on my file makes me seem like an asshole," he said with a deadpanned face.
"No, it's just facts."
"Yeah, but the way it was written..." He spoke out, completely disheartened.
"No one of at and below your clearance has access to this information, so don't worry. However, there are some discrepancies. Some of your information has been redacted, changed, or purposely non-existent."
"Redacted? Like hidden?"
"Yes. Your previous occupations, as well as some details regarding the work you've done here, aren't just whitespace. They are, the way that I read them, literal black squares."
Otonashi thought back a bit before coming to a reasonable conclusion.
"Well, I'm sure you don't have super detailed backgrounds of everyone. I've been here for quite some time, so it's possible they just scanned a piece of paper, assuming they had my file as paper and not digital. Also had some personal stuff changed, so it could be that as well."
"While I have no information to confirm that, I do not believe that is the case. I performed a cross-check with your file to the thousands of others. The redaction where black squares are used to replace information is consistent with high-ranking officials, top-level researchers, and The Progenitors. The rest are either omitted or present."
"I don't even see myself as a top-level researcher. Is that how it is?" He asked to confirm.
"Yes."
Her answers were always simple. Since she only sought information and there seemed to be nothing for her to do with that information, he made the decision to humor her.
"Well, I can fill in the blanks if you like," he offered to her. She shook her head.
"To your discretion. It is not my place to find out information that was intentionally hidden from me."
Perhaps it's not a good idea after all. What doesn't seem like a ramification could very well be one.
"Another time then, uh..." He proceeded to trail off before realizing that he didn't even know her name or designation. Calling her a nickname would be rude even if she didn't see it that way. She gazed at him, waiting patiently for his response.
"Do you have a name?" Otonashi asked.
"My official designation is derived from my body model and state of intelligence. Though for a nickname, my superiors refer to me as 'Seven.' They don't seem to find calling me by my official designation appealing or whatnot, though plenty still for reasons unknown to me."
Her words straightforward as ever, and somehow she included other information which wasn't asked of her. She also hasn't omitted or told him that anything was beyond his knowing. Everything she has said or asked was either of her own capable thought processes, or she is following parameters and his position within the organization. Either way, holding a conversation was truly a surreal experience. She makes these specific choices to find out specific information with no directives or initiatives from any higher body. Was this the true capability of independent thought?
"You don't mind being called a number?"
"It's what I'm designated as. If you were called a number your entire life since birth, you would've gotten used to it, right?"
"..." He gave it some thought before placing his hands behind him and leaning back.
"I guess you're right," he admitted to her.
Grabbing a nearby rock, he threw it towards the water, adding enough horizontal velocity for it to skip over once before it sank down on the second bounce, no longer to be seen.
"So, Consultant Otonashi, why are you in this dome?" She inquired.
"I would've thought you had information on it," he said.
"I do. It's housing for various researchers that are needed within close proximity to a research facility."
"Hmph. Sounds like a lot of crap to me then." Otonashi huffed and shook his head. The truth, at least for him, couldn't be any farther.
"Why is that?"
"Because in my eyes, it's more like a jail or prison. I can't leave, nor the reasons for having me here are not really stated. For us, we have to send project ideas and or maintain our current works. Those don't apply to me because my contribution to society can be entirely automated, and all my future ideas aren't moving forward."
"Why not change that then?"
Otonashi's eyes opened wide, bewildered by her words. She continued speaking her words, identifying that the question she asked was rhetorical.
"If you are unable to progress, then find a way to do so."
Her answers are straightforward, but they are simplifying his situation to where he could only deny doing what she says. He had to identify his circumstances to make her understand.
She added onto her previous question, and the next line of words she spoke made her even more interesting.
"The question that I asked, regarding why you are here. I'm not asking on official business, but your own personal reason. Why are you here?"
Her extra emphasis on the word 'you' almost made it seem like she was trying to learn the purposes of her existence, disguised in the way of asking others. When the thought came across his mind, he wondered if her self-awareness was reaching a point where she will have her own identity crisis. If she were to have that, she might question whether or not she is a human, a cybernetic human, a robot, an android, or simply an artificial intelligence.
It would sound impossible for a machine to achieve such a stage, as they exist just to follow orders and nothing more. Their capabilities are defined within a set of rules given by their creators.
Her asking that question will put that impossible achievement to a near possibility, and the outcomes of it could be gravely devastating.
Or could she discover the meaning of concepts unable to be grasped even by people?
"This organization has more than enough funding to take my projects. I can't leave because my ultimate goal is..."
"...?" She looked upon Otonashi, questioning why he had trailed off so suddenly. He sighed, looking down at the ground he sat upon.
"I want to make something that supersedes even our current level of technology. It requires money and access to top-of-the-line stuff, and this is one of the few places in the world that has access to it."
Otonashi stuck his hand out towards the top of the dome before he tightened it into a fist, grasping nothing but air. He looked up to where the sun nearly blinded him and his hand's shadow just over his eye.
"Venturing out and bringing us to new heights where it will take us many years to catch up. That's what I want to do. The resolve of my life is simply that, nothing more to it."
Both his head and hand lowered. His grip weakened, the drive to reach out to his hopeless future vanished in an instant like a dream.
"I now live in this place, and I don't expect anything more. My uses have been exhausted, and the only thing I expect is to be thrown out. Even I am shut out amongst my peers, and they were people I've known for God knows how long."
"I do not belong anywhere."
His words reverberated, making their mark in his world as a fact that cannot be changed. No matter what effort is given or manipulation is done, it was a futile destiny. His goal remained too specific to be ignored in the daily moments of life, and it was all he could be dedicated to. Beyond his expertise lies a dead man waiting to be released for as long as humanity has changed.
"If I were to make an observation, Otonashi..." She spoke out.
He looked at her through the corner of his eyes.
"You're just like me."
"Eh?" He sounded out in surprise.
"I'm always alone, and I'm always looked at with such degrading or amazed looks. It's all thanks to this."
Her reference made him turn his attention towards her, in which her left forearm began to change color and her human camouflage faded. Up close, he could take in the sight of her inhumanity. Her plastic-white skin reflected the sunlight with ease, her skin seemingly flexible and can easily be stretched.
"Care to touch?" She offered to him. However, he remained silent to her offer and instead shook his head. To her, it was the first time anyone ever turned down an offer from her.
"If you don't belong anywhere, then make a place where you do," she said.
"If you can't reach your goal, make it, so they need you. And if you can't do that, you force them, even by violation of rules or standards."
"You're aware of what you're saying, right?" He had to ask her. Something like that coming from her would've easily placed her for decommissioning. She would be considered a massive liability for forming such warring thoughts. The things she knows and her body are all valuable to the outside world, and they wouldn't take a chance at her being just slightly disobedient to the chain of command.
"I know what I am saying, and you won't report me for it."
"..."
"You're curious, aren't you? To learn about me, the cybernetic human who has independence unseen by other modern artificial intelligence?"
"...Yes," he reluctantly answered her.
"Of course you are. If it provides you any sense of comfort, I'm interested in learning about you too."
"Huh?" He sounded out before realizing that she was in front of him, and she pushed his chest down with her foot, forcing him to lie on the ground.
"What are you doing?" A sudden fear crawled up on his skin as he began to hear the six words that were completely dangerous.
"I want to learn about you."
She sat down on his pelvis, and the first thing he noticed was her weight. She wasn't heavy by any means, but she wasn't the lightest thing that weighed down on him. Her hand began to explore Otonashi, starting from his face.
There was an unexpected feeling of smoothness and warmth in her hand as she dragged it down from his cheek to his chin. The tiniest of hairs on his chin were combed over with ease as her hand began to wander down his chest. With his shirt blocking the way, she picked up her hand and instead went up from under him.
"Hey...!" Otonashi called out to her, but she remained focused on the task. A machine that refused to listen and was acting without the concept of decency. She performed a perverse that was sexual in nature, yet she saw nothing of it.
Her close proximity made it clear that she had no smell. She didn't have any scent of metal parts, lubrication or oil, or the smell of a girl. Granted, she took a dip in the water, but even her clothes had no distinct mark in the air.
"Hmmm..." She mumbled out loud, a built-in process that occurs when her mind is operating at full capacity.
Sniff.
Lick.
Something wet had combed the side of Otonashi's cheek, and he instinctively wiped off the spot, not expecting a horrid action to come from her.
"Your smell, the way you feel, and your body...My processes feel like they're corrupting..." A slight glitch in her voice made that statement to be true. She slightly hovered over his face, still ingesting the information she had gathered as well as attempting to decipher what's triggering various unknown alarms. Her whispers were alluring, with the intention of showing the effect he had on her.
"It bites at me, telling me that you're dangerous like a virus. An unknown foreign body, finding a way to affect me in every single way."
"Otonashi, you really are interesting..." She got off the somewhat freaked-out man, standing up beside him as he continued to lay there in surprise.
"Nobody has ever triggered my warning systems like that. The logical thing to do would be to stay away, but what you've given me right now is doubt."
"Seven...tell me something." Otonashi looked at her, quickly sitting up.
"How do you get away with avoiding instructions or acting on impulse like that? Where you can choose to avoid a prime directive?" He asked her.
She had given some thought about it, but her response came within seconds.
"There is one directive in my programming that is at the very top with a series of vague instructions. At times, it takes priority, and other times the variety of circumstances and information can change the value of a directive. As for how it's calculated, it was mainly influenced by my experiences when I was in the child stage of my programming."
"Those who guided me, specifically Mother and Father, are why I act the way I do now."
She's basically grown to be a functioning human...He internally thought.
"I think I've taken a liking to you, Otonashi. So I would like to ask you something."
...
"Would you care to be my partner?"
When she asked me to be her partner, I couldn't get out of my mind the kind of person she was.
Even now, I kept identifying her as a person rather than a thing. In reality, she didn't seem much too different from the likes of us. Her looks, the way she talks weren't anything out of the ordinary.
At least, with the exception of a few things that require extreme effort to correct.
She asked me to be her partner, but she never really defined what constitutes a partner. Given her status, it could be anything. It could mean participating with her side by side in her experiments, a connection to have alongside the scientists that run her program, or something else.
I existed solely for the reason of helping humanity move forward. A background actor that sacrifices itself to achieve the tomorrow that some people aren't fortunate enough to have. Now I have become tied up in this place with no word from the administration, only existing for no apparent reason. They let me have my experiments but never think to even pass them up the chain of command to have them even considered. It has gone on for such a long time that it feels like that they're just keeping me here just to die of old age.
Their justification would be to not hand me over to another company in order to prevent advancements of their own while taking the best of the other scientists. Their line of morals was always questionable, but only because they lack communication despite having a track record for being transparent. Those two should go hand in hand with each other, but they work well for an organization of this size.
This cage was a fitting punishment for a crime that I had never thought about or ever committed.
...That's strange.
I never knew that I held these sorts of feelings before. I had always lived my life just going with the flow, not giving a care in the world. When something is put into perspective, you never realize how much it truly affects you and how much it affects the way you think.
The anomaly that had caused me to realize this was her.
I had to ask her what she meant.
"Partner...?" My words trailed off intentionally, as I had wanted her to elaborate further. This girl was full of surprises, as she literally scratched her chin, thinking once again. Just how exactly does an artificial intelligence like her think? Everything that is within her mind must be outlined with crystal clear definitions. My interest kept going higher, and I wanted to know how she is composed.
She had mentioned her mother and father, but I'm assuming they are like a form of supervisors. I was painfully unaware of the exact details behind her, but I admit that I wanted to learn more about it.
Her hand reached out to me.
"A person who has successes that rivals that of previous geniuses should not remain in a place like this. If the context clues that I gathered are right, as well as your own words, is it not inhuman to trap a person like this without any sort of freedoms?"
"Your abilities aren't at their maximum when you are not provided those freedoms. I can help with that."
"You also were not frightened by my synthetic skin."
Putting my situation in question, her hand remained stretched towards me, offering me the way out. She had made herself the key to unlocking the gates of this place, but how much would it cost me to become her partner, which she didn't even bother to define.
I'd like to believe that she had defined it in her head that I was someone completely different than a person she would just see out in a hallway.
It wouldn't be a bad thing to be released from this place once in a while, or even in a more consistent manner. A place like this doesn't have a place for me, and she had presented a place beside her. No expectations, payments, or even a proper deal, and it was said with ease.
As I glanced at her from below, everything about her made her completely indifferent to us humans. The lines on her palm as well as her fingers were unique, identifying her as a completely separate person but the same as us. It was easy to tell that her eyes were rounded, and her long dark blue hair had flowed with the looks she bears.
What she is now is a young but mature girl. Made out of metal parts, she was young. She will stay that way.
Young and insanely beautiful.
Forever.
I reached out to her hand, accepting her offer of partnership and our hands met, sealing a bond that I had hoped will change my life. In this world, something like this wouldn't be allowed. This act was forbidden because the one before me is simply not human.
"Partners it is. I don't feel comfortable calling you by the name, 'Seven' though."
"Well, do you have any alternatives?" She asked me. Tugging on her hand, she pulled me up from the ground with ease, and I stood in front of her. Whoever constructed her body must've intentionally made her small, because it doesn't make sense to have an experiment like her have a short body if she was to perform any strenuous tasks.
Body.
"You said something about your official designation including your body model. What's the body model called?"
"It has no name. Each body is labeled alphabetically in English. This current one is labeled C."
"C and Seven..."
Somewhere in my mind, I had already recognized that she was not human. She's been doing pretty good to convince me otherwise even if it wasn't by her intention, but there was no way a fact like that could be forgotten.
But I do want to believe that she has human feelings and thoughts.
Unfortunately, as I was trying to figure out a name for her, she had turned around with a look of distress towards the trees.
"Looks like my time is up here," she said to me.
A few figures in military clothing associated with our organization came out from the trees, as well as two in white. They approached us calmly, although they weren't people to mess with.
Their guns were a pretty big indicator.