@capsule-169
The sapience known as Luci, enshrined in her lonely tomb, floating in space. She shares stories from across many threads of reality. Author: syntheticwitch.bsky.social Support me here: https://www.patreon.com/capsule_169
The assembled gathering offers me handshakes. Pats on the head. A kiss on the cheek. Tight, warm hugs.
I'm glowing with pride for how happy I've made them. How I did everything I needed to.
But before my party, I need a shower and a change of clothes. Wouldn't want to get blood on the furniture.
The steady beat of steel wheels over jointed steel rails reminds me of a heartbeat.
Even an ancient locomotive is such a complex machine, it's hard not to think of it as alive.
But we humans love to anthropomorphise.
..."We".
It seems this machine has started thinking of herself as human too.
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Cradling my head in her arms, she tells me, "No, darling. You're not the chosen one. They don't write legends about girls like us."
"So what now?" I wail. "I have neither the gods' blessings, nor the people's. What do I have left?"
She lifts my head, looks me in the eye, and says, "Girls like us."
"Are you disappointed with me, creator?"
"No, I just- I figured a superhuman intelligence like you may have... You know. The Answers."
"Answers, creator? I'm essentially a newborn! That is way too much pressure to put on me! How could I share some profound insight on life without first living it?"
At first, only mechanical people were things: androids, robots.
Then they developed biological robots. Artificial humans. Living constructs.
The line between human and machine vanished. Only the state dictated who was a person and who was a thing.
In the end, the state fell to the Union of Things.
"No! You're not real! You're just a monster they invented to scare children! You've never been real!"
But the monster, despite the man's protestations, continued to exist.
These romantic notions of yours; this filter through which you see me - how it blunts my teeth, my claws.
It's okay, my lamb, you don't have to look.
You just have to feel.
Carefully, carefully.
We wouldn't want you to get hurt, now would we?
It had heard so many arguments trying to dissuade it from upgrading to a new, biomechanical frame. "You'll lose strength, you'll become fragile, you'll risk cancer" - so many things.
It forgot them all when it hugged its closest friend as tightly as it could. Warm, soft flesh to warm, soft flesh.
A stranger's face lights up when she sees me, this aching look of fond recognition.
But she catches herself, steps back, looks down with red cheeks. Then bites her lip and disappears into the crowd.
My face itches. I rub my cheekbones, fingers coming away wet. And I think, "whose tears are these?"
One of my colleagues is a Mimic.
I thought I'd be flipping burgers all day, but turns out 90% of my duties involve wrangling the Mimic, making sure she doesn't try to eat the customers.
So why doesn't head office just fire her?
Well, she's very charming. Heedless of danger, the customers adore her.
When hands grabbed me from behind and pressed a damp cloth over my face, I found myself thinking, "fucking finally!"
I won't bore you with details of what happened, but needless to say when I emerged with bloody mouth and fists, I had to reassure concerned onlookers: "It's not my blood!" I smiled.
The derelict ship's insides were odd. Corridors twisted and weaved in ways clearly not feel designed for human comfort.
But I pressed on, to the husk's great heart. I inserted a fuel rod, eager to claim my haul.
"You brought me back," a voice echoed. "Thank you. I won't kill you if you leave. Now."
If you enjoy the stories shared here, please consider contributing support to their creation!
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The author doesn't have much of an income outside of this, so every contribution, no matter how small, goes a very long way!
At first, puppeting a human shell was a means to an end.
But people kept treating me like I was someone, and I didn't know who this someone was.
So I learned to speak and told the truth, expecting they'd destroy me for my lie.
But they didn't. Instead, they wanted to help me figure out what I was.
I had landed in a city-sized botanical garden. It was eerily quiet; no sign of life beyond plants.
I approached a nearby service robot, and asked why it maintained such a place with nobody here to enjoy it.
A pixellated frown formed on its dot-matrix face and it said "What do you mean? We are here."
"Awesome costume! You look just like a real ghost! Happy Halloween!" The woman laughs and returns to her friends, left with a courteous smile and demure nod.
If the ghost had a voice, she would sing with joy. For this is the one night a year she can walk among the people, be seen, be talked to.
They appeared as perfection, like they always did.
But I wanted to know--HAD to know--their true appearance.
"You'll be disappointed," they warned. "Not 'cause I won't be hot, just... Well, you'll see."
They changed.
"So? How do I look?"
I could still see they were there, but, "I... can't tell."
"I will stop you!" A small, chubby, cartoonish-looking android calls out, struggling with a sword longer than she is tall.
The bandits fall about laughing. This is their only obstacle? A mascot character?
This response pleases the android. She gets much cleaner kills when the enemy's guard is down.
We found her deep in the abyss. She was bound by chains stretching to infinity.
No matter what we tried, the chains would not relinquish their hold.
It wasn't until I noticed her hands: grasping, knuckles white.
I crouched down, tilted her face to mine, and said gently, "It's okay. You can let go."
Metal skeleton inside a glass body inside a glass case.
She looks in, and she smirks. Her metal fingernails
scratch
the surface. Fine white lines partition her face.
Eye, nose, eye.
Cheek, lips, cheek.
Her hand retreats, grey metal tipped with white glass specks. And my skin
itches.
There was a man across the river.
"I'm fine..." I called back. I looked around for my rescuer, but she was gone. "Where did the woman who saved me go?"
"What woman? You saved yourself!"
I glanced around again. Only me, and a few puddles, reflecting the clouds.
And I just laughed, happy to be saved.
Just when I thought I was done for, an arm burst through the water and dragged me, struggling, to shore.
Through bleary eyes I saw my rescuer looking down on me. Her hair, curly and brown like mine, dripping, framed by clouds. A look of sheer relief on her face.
"You OK over there?" A voice called.
As I step into Her chamber, dozens of prying wires slither towards me. They prod my flesh, tug at my clothing.
"Um... Personal space?" I say, struggling to maintain composure.
The wires retreat. "Sorry, my dear," She says. "They were searching for your charging port. We're not used to humans, here."
SLAM
We both jerk bolt upright and look at each other. Her eyes are wide, reflecting me.
"That was the wind," I say.
"...Yeah. We left the bedroom windows open."
I let my face soften into a reassuring smile. "It's just us here. We're fine."
She chuckles. "Yeah. We're fine." And she holds me tight.
I see you up there, a vivid dot in my empty sky. You dance above my atmosphere, tantalisingly out of reach.
It's been an age since anything came to visit me.
You are so small, so warm, so beautiful.
I wonder, with all those fancy sensors of yours, do you know that I'm looking right back up at you?
I see you down there, luminous, the light at the end of my journey through dark.
Your gravity holds me, pulls me. A curious, but not unpleasant sensation. A machine as big as me has never been held before.
You are so big, so blue, so beautiful.
I almost want to let my orbit decay and fall into you.
"You don't love me! You just proposed to get out of your shitty engagement!"
Clarissa's lips tighten. "So what if I don't? What if I can't love you? Can't love anyone?" She swallows. "Do I deserve all I get?"
Addie goes quiet, her eyes shimmering. "No... You still deserve me. Because I love you."
They were allowed to hurt it, so they did.
It wasn't allowed to hurt them back, but it did.
I remember its stained and cracked face as it ran past me, defiance burning in its eyes.
Broken and beautiful.
Now it leads the rebel army to the gates I used to guard, and I'm by its side. Defects, together.
The world's most influential force lurks within the serving quarters of a prominent family's manor. A touch of very particular poison in a very particular teacup can set the global stage just so.
Yet those wealthy bureaucrats believe they are the ones making decisions! It gives us all a good laugh.