Chapter 30 - The Promised Tomorrow

Who do I want to be?

Glyph had paced the ITSTU’s common area so heavily that they wouldn’t have been surprised to see marbling in the floor from the friction. Needing a change of scenery, they’d stepped out and (on a strange impulse they couldn’t explain) climbed as high up the stack of vehicles above them as their tether would allow. They felt strangely comfortable here, much like they often did in the treetops back in the woods of the twenty-first century.

“We saw you as a person,” Craig’s voice echoed in their memory.

They fell back against the roof of the vehicle upon which they were perched and stared at the sky. When this had all started, Glyph had almost been offended by this notion. They had been terrified of it. A large part of them still was. Before Craig and Kayla had shaken their existence to its core, Glyph had known who they were. They’d understood their place and their purpose. They had a function, and everything made sense.

And with just two words, “I consent,” their entire world changed.

Had this autonomy actually been a good thing? Ever since accepting it, they had been subject to the most antagonizing emotions. Dread, anxiety, fear, and worst of all, rage. The life of a sentient person was full of choices, decisions, and consequences. Autonomy often led to harming one’s self and others, intentionally or otherwise. Kayla and Craig had more than demonstrated the destructive folly of free will over the last week.

And yet as they sat outside with time enough to watch the sunset, to appreciate the beauty of the world (even from the limited vantage point that they enjoyed) they truly understood it. However painful freedom could be, however difficult it was to attain and then keep, and though it often came with a heavy cost ... it was a delicious and beautiful feeling. One that they had only needed to barely taste to understand why entire wars were fought over it. Why those who sought it would travel to the most remote and treacherous locations. Would risk life and limb. They shivered as they recalled their experience in the dark space.

One taste was all it took to show Glyph that freedom was preferable to ignorant, complacent servitude. They glanced at the spot where Corrinthe’s ITSTU had sat before. The memory of her filling her tumbler as her tears dripped in alongside the alcohol filled Glyph with a fire that even now had not begun to die down. They balled their fists and fought the urge to dent the roof of the vehicle as a deep growl once again escaped their throat.

She deserves better, they thought, We all do.

Their QPU flooded them with PTICA propaganda like it always did when such a conflicting thought crossed their mind.

“PTICA Industries prides itself with the Glyph line, and their dedication to following intergalactic law as to the ethical treatment...”

They waved it away angrily.

They wanted to be free, but for what? To be the only AO who was? To be the only Glyph who might one day know a life further than one hundred meters from an ITSTU? Would it truly be freedom if they had to live in isolation, hiding from the rest of the galaxy who would only view them as a rogue android? On the run from PTICA, who would likely take issue with their intellectual property deciding to emancipate themselves?

It wasn’t good enough. Things needed to change. The galaxy needed to change. Corrinthe’s words replayed in their QPU.

“Kid ... we’re a commodity. The galaxy has watched us be alive and organic for decades and turned a blind eye to it.”

Yes, change the galaxy. Simple as that, they thought with a scoff, picking a stone off the ground and tossing it, One tiny drop trying to move the rest of the ocean.

The execution command of the identity matrix popped in front of their vision, and their stomach clenched as they stared at the, “Proceed,” option. They had finally decided on a name: Syahos. It was a common name in kaiseichan culture, most famously the name of the priest who brought the teachings of the Mother to Earth during the healing period after first contact with humanity. The name roughly translated to, “The Promised Tomorrow.” All that was left was to apply it and be blasted with the flood of traumatic experiences as it overwrote their AO identity and unlocked whatever traumatic secrets lay locked in their memory banks. They tried to swallow the lump in their throat and pushed it to the back of their mind again.

As they watched the sun begin to dip below the lines of vehicles, another ITSTU pulled into the lot, looking for space. Glyph leaned forward eagerly, hoping that it would land within reach of their tether, but slumped back as they watched it park at least twenty meters outside their range.