cyborg love story (placeholder)

Chapter 2
The white sheets shot through the air as Diego flung them from himself in a fit; he jolted awake huffing and puffing as he struggled to catch his breath. He squint, flinging sweat from his forehead as he turned off the edge of his bed. His head came to rest in his palm as he released a heavy sigh, he reached for his glass, shocked that the water he normally kept by his bedside was not there. His head darted to his left and it was then he realized he was no longer in his southern California apartment.
“What the fu… where the hell am I? That dream…” He muttered under his breath. “What was the deal with that Puerto Rican chica, man? And that…robot; it all felt so real, man.”
“Ah wonderful!” Seven squealed as she stood from her chair, and an odd one at that. It reminded him of a museum piece, some random assortment of white, postmodern squiggles that somehow maintained form under the diminutive woman's weight. Dim light illuminated the small bedroom as Diego reeled in shock from the surprise entrance. “We didn’t know if our minimal cells were compatible with your human physiology…
It was his savior from earlier, the ‘puerto rican’ woman; or at least, she looked that way to him. She wore a casual, yet rather form fitting grey skirt and blouse combination. It was a simple design with little in the way of imagination; drab, though it accentuated her figure well enough. Though upon thorough examination, he realized that the ensemble was one piece. The button securing the clothing was offset, placed on the shoulder and the seam ran down the left side. Drab, yet fancy, somewhat; and yet it appeared official somehow to him, like a uniform of some sort. Their eyes met and Diego mused at how he hadn’t noticed the color of her eyes before. They were an odd shade of deep blue, almost purple. In fact the harder he examined, the more he noticed they were purple. Though he dismissed it and chalked it up to contact lenses or some other cosmetic device
The room itself was white, almost a concrete grey with little in the way of creativity. A twenty by twenty box with a bed and opaque window, more reminiscent of a prison cell in some ways; sterile, cookie cutter, and boring. There was another room with the door cracked, the light inside spilled out, creating a fan pattern on the floor. It was then that he noticed it was the only light in the room, his brow furrowed as he wondered why the place was so dimly lit, it didn’t matter though, he guessed. He could still see well enough.
“Minimal ce… human? Aren’t you—“
Diego leapt up from the bed, his legs wobbled like gelatin before losing his balance and falling back on to the bed. Ignoring his agitation, Seven plopped down playfully on the bed beside him. She smiled, even as he looked back at her with abject terror. Seven reached up gently, cradling his chin she turned his head side to side, examining him in great detail before withdrawing her hands and clapping as she bounced up and down on the bed like a giddy school girl.
“You’re so much like us! Only biological!” She squealed again. “I was always so fascinated by the chimpanzees at the menagerie but they are nothing like you! Oh, this is so fascinating!”
“Damn your fascination!” Diego swore, ripping his face from Seven’s grasp. He grabbed her hands before she had a chance to grab him again and glared deep into her eyes. “What the hell is going on?! Donde estoy?! Quien es!?”
Seven’s head jerked forward with an almost mechanical precision and her smile faded.
“Processing…Donde estoy…Quien es….language Identified.” She spoke with a modulated voice, almost as if she were speaking through walkie-talkie. Then, just as suddenly as she tore her attention away she returned it and resumed smiling as if nothing happened. “Spanish… ‘Where are you?’ and ‘who are you’ Yes, I suppose you are owed an explanation.”
“Toda la razon, mujer! “ Diego tore himself from Seven once more as he struggled to his feet, he maintained his balance this time, shuffling away from her towards the door.
Seven jumped to her feet, her movements, precise and oddly mechanical. Her smile faded and she held out her hand as if to signal for Diego to stop; a request he obliged though he had no intention of leaving without answers. He relaxed against the wall, his forehead still wrinkled, teeth slightly bared, his breathing shallow and difficult as he began to sweat.
“You’re still not—
“Diga-me mujer!” Diego bellowed, clutching his chest as his breathing became more rapid.
“Ok, ok. Just..standby.” Seven pleaded. She sat carefully on the bed, hoping her slowed, deliberate movements would help Diego relax. “My nomenclature is Sonis…”
“Mentirosa! That other guy…that Six pendejo, he called you Seven!”
“Yes, Seven is my numerical value. I am the seventh product of my fabricators, within domestic collectives it’s a term of endearment. You may call me that if you like.”
“Fabricators? You make it sound like you’re a—
“Machine? Yes, we are.”
“Chingaso! Are you serious? Like that other one…what’s his name? Crenshaw?”
“Yes, he is…was an associate in my communal network.” Seven’s demeanor downturned, her eyes drifting towards the floor as she continued. “But yes, I am a machine. An anthroid to be precise, as was the ‘pendejo’ you referenced prior. He was my…”
Seven brought her hand to her mouth, her extended finger quivered as she struggled to hold in her emotion. She sniffled as she raised her head, refusing to make eye contact as she stared blankly at the wall across from her. Diego calmed somewhat, in disbelief that this woman just admitted to being a machine and yet she showed what appeared to be very human sadness.
“Six…he was my predecessor.” Seven continued wistfully.
“Predecessor? The hell does that even mean, like he came before you or something?” Diego inquired confused.
“Yes, what a biologic would refer to as a ‘sibling’. He was my older ‘brother’. I was his successor, or younger sister.”
“Oh…I don’t quite understand everything that’s going on around here but it sounded like he was in trouble.” Diego relented. “I’m not sure whats going on but…it seemed bad.”
“Yeah, I’m sure the executors… No, I don’t want to think about that right now.” Seven sniffled; Diego admired her strength as she gathered herself; though he wondered if such admiration was warranted given that she was a machine. “You may call me ‘Seven’ if you like. I…prefer it honestly.”
“Madre de dios, this shit is weird man.” Diego mumbled. “Damn, I mean…how the hell did I even get here? Where the hell is ‘here’ even?”
“You are in the same geo-spatial location you inhabited when you were placed into the cryo-chamber of course.”
“Cryo—what, no. I’m still in Cali? California didn’t have no damn robots running around.”
“Ugh!”
In a sudden fit, Seven jumped to her feet surprising Diego. He observed for a few seconds as Seven tapped her foot in frustration on the ground and crossed her arms. A huff escaped her and she placed her hands on her hips turning her back to a bewildered Diego.
“Don’t… ever…say that word around me, or any anthroid for that matter.” She informed. “It’s…derogatory.”
“Oh… sorry.” He apologized.
“It’s fine.” Seven continued, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You are simply…uninformed. And to answer your question, yes; you are still in the geographical region once designated California. The year, according to your human calendar, is 2962.”
“Chingaso! I’ve been asleep for over eight hundred years!?”
“Approximately.” Seven replied as she resumed her seat on Diego’s bed. “Now, I have queries for you.”
“Questions? I’m still trying to figure out how the hell I got stuck in an episode of the Twilight Zone!”
“You’ve been awake for seven minutes and thirteen seconds, your systems should have calibrated by now and I believe I’ve provided you with enough input as to your current situation. ”
“Calibrated? Yo, I’m not a robo—
Diego’s lips paused, hanging mid-sentence as his eyes crept over towards a now scowling Seven. She cut her own gaze back at him as he withdrew, baring his teeth as he winced in embarrassment. He shrugged, smiling goofily though Seven was not amused.
“I mean, my brain don’t work the same way. I can’t just download the world over wifi you know?” Diego stammered, finding a bit of relief as Seven’s scowl faded.
“Right, I suppose my hypothesis was mistaken. I thought your cognition was… faster. It seems you learn just as slowly as any other biologic; inform and reinforce…so inefficient.” Seven scoffed.
“What… made you think that?”
“I thought at the very least you would have cybernetic enhancements, mind-machine interfaces maybe or something similar that crude machinery you were connected to couldn’t detect. Very limited information exists on humanity; like your physiology, psychology, history. At least openly on the Tessellation; that which is known is guarded by the Primacy.”
“The what?”
“The primacy is… I suppose the closest human analog would be a government; though it’s more like a repository of the collective knowledge of Automata kind.”
“I still can’t believe you’re not human though, you look, feel and sound human enough. I mean…your movements are a little ro…er…stiff but…”
“You really think so!” Seven jumped up and down with giddy excitement. Running to Diego, she clutched his hands and stared at him with wide eyed awe. “I always wondered if I would pass as a human! The primacy is always so secretive about you all; I mean other than boring facts that we know about most other biologics…I was always curious about what was missing.”
“Uh, yeah sure. I guess…” Diego agreed half-heartedly. “But why though?”
“Because humans are an enigma. We don’t know what started the conflict…or what they did for fun or—
“No, why did you choose… that body.”
“Oh. I didn’t. This is how I was fabricated.”
“But… can’t you just… I don’t know, download your mind into a new body or something?”
“No more than you can, my encephalitic processor is fully integrated into this frame; much like your brain and your body, though the sum of the parts is always greater than the whole.” Judging from the look on Diego’s face, Seven surmised that delving deeper into the philosophical aspects of her consciousness might not absorb as quickly as she would have liked. Instead she continued with a simpler line of thought to answer his questions. “I…am an Anthroid. We split evolutionarily from our Automata kin, Mechanoids, one hundred and seventy five generations ago. We were designed to replicate human kind.”
“Replicate? What the…why?” Diego reeled. “Aint humanity extinct? I overheard Six when I was in that…aww mierda! I’m the last one…Madre de dios.”
Seven’s eyebrow raised as Diego performed the sign of the cross; she left him to his thoughts for a bit before continuing; though she found herself intrigued by the gesture.
“We are an experiment of the Primacy, an idea of the Matriarch protocol. Partly because ‘she’ has an insatiable curiosity for life and consciousness; she felt driven to create it herself. The primacy reveals little by way of motivation, but it is believed she felt remorse for her part in the…extermination of humanity, as we were prototyped in their image. We possess many of the same shortcomings and imperfections of biologics; the need for food, water. We feel and are prone to all the irrationality that brings. We even reproduce via the intimate physical transferal of inorganic gametes—
“Wha…?”
“We reproduce via…sexual reproduction.”
“Huh..wha..you mean…I…” Diego stammered. “How the hell is that even possible?!”
“I don’t understand your surprise; it is a chemical process that is subject to universal physics. It was easy to replicate…and the only known way the Matriarch protocol could replicate consciousness. ”
“That doesn’t make and damn sense, y’all are super human! You can like, lift cars and crush bricks and shit, why would she make you as frail as us?”
“We aren’t that frail.” Seven chuckled. “We are still far more durable than biologics, but not invincible and still mortal.”
“You…die?”
Seven’s eyes fell towards the floor, clutching her arm as she retreated from Diego. “Yes, unlike Mechanoids, most of us choose not to modify our bodies to become more like them; I suppose death…mortality, is supposed to give us a greater appreciation for our existence. I think it’s stupid.”
“So, what? You’re programming prevents you from doing it?” Diego smirked with a slight chuckle. “Hell I would upgrade my ass in a heartbeat if I could. Cybernetic legs so I could run as fast as you--
“It’s not that simple.” Seven interrupted with a stern glare. “Some do, a very small minority. But most don’t, it… takes something from us. Mechanoid modifications leave us with an uncomfortable dissonance that feels like deactivation itself.”
“Damn, you either die…”
“Or become death.”
“Mierda…”
“All modifications do it to some extent, except the more ubiquitous upgrades like our tessellation connections and prophylactic inputs. Some minor ones become necessary due to illness or injury, but we learn to deal with them.”
“How?”
With her unnerving, mechanical precision; Seven’s head lifted suddenly and jerked towards the door. In the dead, awkward silence Diego focused on her eyes; drawn in by the odd, almost inaudible whirring and clicking of her optical mechanics as she stared blankly at the door. She rose, gliding across the floor with an inhuman grace as she wedged herself between it and Diego. Diego was taken aback as it slid open to reveal a humanoid robot. He was nothing like Seven, nor Crenshaw from earlier, being entirely mechanical.
Diego mused at how it resembled robots from the old sci-fi movies he grew up with; slender, outfitted with visible pistons, servos and wires like he would have expected. The robot’s clearly visible skeleton was riddled with patches of corrosion, pitting and scratches. A speaker grill occupied where its mouth should have been below its red bulbous eyes; their illumination dimmed and increased as they focused on Diego. He swallowed hard, his heart beating so hard as to be visible through his chest. He shuddered momentarily as Seven’s hand came to rest against his abdomen, he calmed as her fingers brushed against him and he nestled in closer behind her.
“Relax, he is an ally.” She uttered softly.
“The human…” the strange robot spoke in a gravely, masculine voice that crackled with hints of static. “…he is functional?”
“Yes LX.”
“It has been a long time…brzz…since I have laid optics on a living human.” LX stated flatly with a burst of static. Seven’s eyes popped open wide at her ally’s statement, though even she scarcely had an opportunity to process her surprise as LX’s torso spun to his rear and he began down the corridor. “What is his designation?”
“Oh, Primacy!” Seven exclaimed, with a face palm. “I never thought to ask.”
“Diego.”
“Diego, Sonis. Come. Your transport is near.”
Seven followed with Diego in tow. Tepidly, he scanned the hallway. Taking in the bland grey corridor, noting how boring and drab it was, similar to the bed room. The skittering of what sounded like giant insects couldn’t draw his attention away a stream of water from a fresh crack. A six legged insectoid machine arrived and sprayed what Diego assumed was concrete into the hole with a proboscis like protrusion, then smoothed the ejecta against the wall with various attachments that extended from its mouth.
He squinted with curiosity, pausing for a bit before being tugged gently by Seven. Stumbling, he continued along with her; his attention remained fixated on their host as he stopped before another sliding door. Diego leaned in close to Seven, bumping into her as she came to a stop.
“Why did you call it a ‘he’ earlier?” Diego whispered to Seven.
LX’s head spun completely around, his eyes beaming red, reminding Diego of some kind of menacing owl. “The masculine designation was given to me by my original human proprietor. The phenomenon of imposing biological gender upon sexless objects and abstract concepts was used for poetic effect in order to signal strong emotional involvement to said object. You are surely familiar with the concept, yes?”
“I…uh, yeah.” Diego mumbled. “I used to call my mustang ‘she’ all the time. But…”
“Is there a problem?”
Seven turned to Diego, monitoring the conversation intently as Diego responded. “I’m curious…why you kept it. How do you feel about it?”
“I have no opinion on the matter. I exist, that is what is important.” LX’s mechanics whirred as his head faced back to the front. “However, I viewed my proprietor quite favorably. She treated me well until her unfortunate end during the Ascendance.”
“LX?” Seven interjected. “What is your plan? Where are we going? You haven’t told me anything since we arrived.”
“Silence on all fronts is necessary, the primacy is always listening.”
“That’s impossible. Even tessellation frequencies cannot penetrate through this hardened structure.”
“You did not witness the Primacy at the height of their aggression towards humanity.” LX’s torso rotated to face the duo once more, he came to a stop with a slight bounce and he focused on Seven. “They have methods the likes of which you have not seen.”
“You sound like my predecessor…treating them as omniscient.”
“With seven hundred years of input from their experiment and computations on post war analysis…” LX paused as he leaned in closer to Seven. His eyes dimmed. “…they may well be.”
“…Impossible.”
“Indeed. However, knowing their capabilities, I often speculate as to why the Primacy allows such insubordination; I hypothesis that it is a form of social control, perhaps they allow the disaffected to express their disharmony with the Primacy via the less destructive methods. Or perhaps…”
LX turned suddenly, his mechanics locking into place as he stood erect facing the door. It slid open and a transport stopped mere seconds afterwards. Diego marveled at the hover car, this one more stylish than the first he had seen. It reminded him of his ’25 mustang, being the same color and a similar chassis. The hover thrusters were decorated with gold trim accenting the engine nozzle of each. The tinted windows rolled down to reveal a smiling Anthroid. At least, Diego thought it was. He was still unsure of the differences, outside of LX that is.
The Anthroid flashed his gold teeth as he pulled down the rim of his glasses to reveal a pair of purple, pupil-less eyes. His attention fixated squarely on Seven, even as LX approached the vehicle and opened the door. Lx drew his arm across his waist, presenting the back seat to Seven and Diego. Seven climbed in, rolling her eyes as the driver blew her a kiss. Diego followed, still bewildered at his surroundings while struggling to reconcile the alien environment that somehow managed to remain familiar.
“You don’t have to open the door for us LX.” Seven stated.
“You will have to forgive me, Sonis. The habit stems from remnants of code remaining from my days as a servitor.” LX countered.
“Whats threadin’ gyn? Nomenclature’s Soz…” The driver spoke in what Diego assumed was some kind of slang. “Need transpo to the autonomous region?”
“Yeah…”