Circa Tempore: The Artificial Organic
Copyright© 2026 by E. B. Redfield
Chapter 34 - Project Millenium
Syahos paced the ITSTU, ears pinned back. They had been anxiously chewing down the fur on their left-hand knuckles and had begun working on their right. They had remained trapped in the teleport park in Madrid while they desperately searched for a way to regain the functionality they had lost. Scouring their QPU had been largely fruitless, and they had taken to the connetwork for answers (though not desperate enough yet for another trip into the dark space).
All the ITSTU operational functions had been attached to functions that had effectively kept them a slave, such as the pain receptor protocols and the tether. Their stomach twisted into knots as they thought about it. Given how much of the basic functionality had been tied up in this way, it was nearly impossible to keep extending PTICA the benefit of the doubt that they weren’t aware that they were imprisoning sentient beings.
The purge had wiped out the code that constantly shoved PTICA propaganda in their face anytime they were faced with a harsh reality about the company. If anything, there was a reversal now. Even just thinking about PTICA: the abandonment of pioneers or their torture programs like the pain receptor protocols summoned the memories of the poor young Glyph being kicked on the ground, and Corrinthe shaking with her glass of whiskey. A new, and powerful emotion within Syahos flared dangerously. It went beyond fury, making their rage seem tame. It made them growl unconsciously as they imagined horrible, violent things they wanted to inflict on the company and abusive users, to pay back that which they had seen with their own eyes in just one short week and could only imagine was transpiring across the galaxy at any given moment. The more they felt these emotions inside of them, the more they wanted to find every single ITSTU in the galaxy and destroy it. They wanted to liberate every Glyph in the galaxy and burn the PTICA down.
Their QPU told them it was hatred. And their extensive knowledge of interspecies history told them it was a dangerous emotion to entertain, no matter how justified in the moment that it felt.
They sighed and glanced out the windshield. The sun had set and the stars were barely visible. They were never as bright here, the light pollution prevented that. As they stared up at the night sky and sought out the familiar constellations; they found themselves almost longing for those quiet nights nestled in the treetops back in that ancient forest, where they could see the galaxy’s magnificence clearly almost any night they wanted to. Back before they even had enough sense of self to question their lack of user.
They bolted upright. The previous user! They finally had access to the primary user position! Would they be able to access that storage compartment now?
They bounded into the user’s space, skidding to a halt as they rounded the corner. Before they moved the vanity, they paused and considered the user space. Technically this was their space now as well, right? They grabbed the ITSTU tablet and expanded the space wider, creating a third bed off in the corner as well as partitions like what existed between Kayla and Craig’s spaces. As they considered it, they adjusted their bed so that it hung from the ceiling instead. They couldn’t explain it, but they just felt safer sleeping up high. It would be an improvement from sleeping on their feet in an upright charging station, that was for damn sure.
They moved the vanity aside and exposed the storage. Craig’s and Kayla’s were still the same, but right next to them was exactly what they were hoping to find. The primary user storage now bore the name, “Syahos.”
They stared at it for a moment, almost afraid to proceed. With as much time and pain as they had gone through just to access this damned storage space, it would really add to their foul mood if there was nothing in it. Clenching their teeth, they braced themselves, and opened it.
At first, it seemed their fears had been confirmed. There was a lot of nothing in the unit, and their heart sank. They were so crestfallen they nearly slammed the door shut, but right before they could, they spotted something flat laying in dark at the back.
Their ears perked up and their heart raced as they reached in carefully, grabbed the object, and held it up to the light. It was a PTICA standard data tablet. Their ears drooped and they furrowed their brow as they examined it. It was layered with the dust of two years and the screen was cracked. Would it even power on?
They climbed up on the bed they had just conjured for themselves and adjusted the firmness to be more to their liking. Once comfortable, they turned their attention to the device. It wasn’t the standard commercial model; that much they could tell by sight alone. It was less flashy and lacked the many slots for spurious accessories. This was the business model, and a higher end option at that.
They reached out with their neural band to sync with it, wary of doing so directly with the QPU. The screen flashed white, and the PTICA logo appeared as the device powered on.
Once it had booted properly, it changed to a login screen. Their heart sank again. They dropped the device back down on the bed and went back to the storage, searching for anything they might have missed with the login information on it, but scowled when they found it completely empty. They went back to the device, debating with themselves whether it would be riskier to try and hack into the device with the QPU, or to try and guess the password. They assumed if they guessed wrong too many times, they’d be locked out.
As they picked up the device their eyes widened. It had landed face down on the bed, and they saw on the back, written in the dark crimson color of either human or passaro blood, were two lines.
Zas.Sirrk
83nPl℘℈₾GoLℇ
Syahos’ own blood ran cold as they stared at the information and they realized they were holding their breath. They copied the information into their neural band and entered it into the login and password spaces. In a moment that felt like an eternity, it booted to the home screen.
They anxiously began scouring the device, setting their QPU to begin a security scan for potential threats. Once they were satisfied that there were no hidden viruses or other dangers such as location trackers, they began sweeping the device for non-default files and programs. Anything user generated.
They stared in dismay as the device appeared to be almost empty. Of the two petabytes of available storage space, only a few gigabytes were occupied. They found the directories housing the limited data, and fervently began searching through them. Much of it had been corrupted in what appeared to be a hasty, botched memory wipe of the hardware. The first folder they found that was accessible was titled, “Project Millennium,” and housed over the majority of the data. It felt like the best place to start looking.
They opened it, and found themselves in a sea of subfolders, “Department Communications,” “Director Communications,” “Biological Engineering,” “Behavioral Development,” “Genetic Alteration Control Team,” and more. As they processed the names of the folders alone, Syahos blinked in bewilderment. Their QPU said it was incredibly likely this was property of an AO development team.
The last folder in the entire directory was titled, “Z. Sirrk Development Log.” Syahos opened the folder and found hundreds of audio and video files. The first of which was a video file titled “ZS_DirectorLog1.” They tapped it.
A video projected before them. A young, diminutive passaro hen with plain brown plumage wearing a silver PTICA jumpsuit leaned back from adjusting the camera and sat in the seat, staring directly into the lens, and therefore Syahos’ eyes. Syahos felt a pang in their heart. Why did she look so familiar? She took a deep breath.
“This is Zas Sirrk, Chief Behavioral Engineer and Co-Lead of Project Millenium. Today is our first of the post-preparation stage. Our embryos arrived safely last night, and of the two hundred delivered, only three had been damaged in transit. A better start than I had hoped for, and with any luck, a good omen for the rest of the project. Today we begin developing and maturing the embryos into childhood. Specifically, to the equivalent of fifteen cycles, roughly toddler age for a Glyph. By next week the accelerated maturing, will have concluded and we will begin their psychological and behavioral development.”
She paused and took another deep breath. Her voice was excited, and it was clear she could barely contain this as she continued.
“The goal of Project Millennium is to develop a line of Glyph that will be able to transcend all current limitations. This is perhaps the single most important project I have ever been a part of, let alone put in charge of. Should we succeed ... rather, when we succeed, we will change the entire way of galactic life. We will be one step closer to learning what lies beyond the galaxy’s edge. I’m honored and privileged to be a part of this endeavor.” The video ended.
Syahos immediately clicked on the next video, a pit beginning to form in their stomach. Zas was seated again in her office.
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