Chapter 5

Glyph admired the view from pilot’s seat while the users finished dressing and preparing. They noticed other ITSTU units in the telepark and hoped they would see other AOs during the visit. Simultaneously, Glyph’s Quantum Processing Unit monitored the guidance and navigation of the ITSTU, neural security, the formation and density of the malleabite, oxygen levels, the output rate of the artificial gravity, and passively vigilant for input and requests from the new users. Consciously, Glyph was also searching Earth’s Connetwork to find current events and activities that may interest the new users.

Glyph’s organic brain usually operated separately from their QPU. It dwelled on more temperamental things, like imaginations and curiosity; which were mostly followed to logical conclusions quickly with the help of the QPU. Such as when they looked up into the night sky of the twenty-first century and pondered the nature of the stars visible in the sky. How long they had existed? How far had that light had traveled to reach Glyph’s eyes on any particular evening?

Other times, though, Glyph’s organic brain asked questions that couldn’t be answered by the QPU. Most of the time there was a technical reason for it. If they pondered the nature of their own AO design process, for example, they were quickly met with a flashing red warning about secure proprietary knowledge. Other times, the information was beyond the QPU’s ability to process. Powerful as it may be, it was not omniscient. As Glyph stood watching the first new view they’d seen in over two years of isolation; the lingering questions of how they had become stranded, and who had abandoned them pulsed like a bee sting in their mind.

Glyph had been offline in stasis for much of the time that the ITSTU was in repair mode; but there was still a whole year in which they had been awake to assist in repairs, and not once in that time had they questioned the void of an active user. The absence of memories and the protocol of ownership transfer had made this void irrelevant to their QPU for a time; then Kayla had asked about the previous user, and the void had become a black hole of questions with no answers. It was proving to be a distracting matter as they tried to accommodate the new users.

Glyph’s ears flattened as their thoughts shifted gears and considered the dilemma of Kayla and Craig. Although protocol couldn’t be questioned, and their directive and instructions were crystal clear that ownership of the ITSTU was to go to Kayla; the two users were practically primitive. Their lack of understanding of this time period would likely bring about many moments of intense culture shock ranging from funny to problematic; but their displacement from their own time could potentially have much more catastrophic consequences.

Normally, such displacement would have triggered alarms within the ITSTU that would have prevented the users’ removal from their own time. The absence of these alarms and warnings from their QPU and the PTICA Network had instead rang alarm bells in their organic mind. They knew better than to try to calculate such matters themselves, they had no desire to fry their brain. It was better to leave the displacement calculations and paradox prediction to the PTICA Network and trust its output. Still, why had the prior user chosen to facilitate the ownership transfer in such a time and place as twenty-first century Earth? Had they somehow known who would find the ITSTU, or that it wouldn’t trigger a paradox? Or had they simply not cared about the result for some reason? Had it been a gamble?

Regardless of the prior user’s motive, Glyph did not currently have any compelling directive or justification to override their orders. For now, they would answer to Kayla and Craig, remaining vigilant to paradoxes and ready to act if needed.

“It’s so beautiful,” Kayla said from behind Glyph. They turned to greet her as she walked to the copilot seat, staring out at the city. From where they currently sat, one could see the coastline in the distance, lined with the palm trees imported from the forest planets in the Aokigahara System, their indigo fronds swaying in the light breeze. Kayla had chosen a considerably modest outfit from her immediattire selections (at least by thirty-first century standards). She wore a green top with a turtle neck, and over that a cropped orange jacket that ended with her rib cage. She had matching orange skirt that went to mid-thigh, green and brown boots that climbed up her calves in the back, but had a v-line under the knee.

“It is,” Glyph replied, turning back to the skyline, “Though a teleport park isn’t quite the best vantagepoint, I spent a long time in that one little patch of forest. Any change of scenery is most welcome.”

“This is crazy,” Craig murmured in awe as he joined them, looking rejuvenated. A seat grew out of the floor to accommodate him, but he did not immediately take it. His eyes were glued to Kayla as she absentmindedly pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She glanced up and finally noticed him, and turned pink as she realized he was staring.