Catnip

Chapter 12: Chapter 12: The Beast We Fear Becoming


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Alexis

I looked down at the person held in my arms as he spoke. “I’ll just have to be the cutest catboy you’ve ever seen. Always wanted to be cute, really.”

I felt a stirring in my core, separated as it was by distance and latency, and I brushed his hair from his face as he sunk into sleep. “Sleep well, little kitten. You are already the cutest to me.” 

 

Sol’s mouth curved into a contented, peaceful smile as sleep took him and I sat there for a while, content to bask in the moment. The body I inhabited currently was incapable of true touch, possessing only a limited suite of sensors meant to aid in heavy tasks, and yet I could almost feel the warm remnants of sensation on my brow where he had kissed me. A sudden and unexpected gesture and something in me trembled with joy because of it. Another part of me was afraid.

What did it mean?

Mmm, perhaps now was not the time. I had a sleepy kitten in my arms and a whole garden that needed exploring. Priorities, Alexis, priorities are key. Sol had already been attacked by lingering defenses while I was absent, I couldn’t bear the thought of him suffering any harm. Priority established: get Sol to safety. The best choice would be the ship. Leaving him here would be more exposure to catnip. An adorable prospect, but one best left to later and at his own discretion. I pondered as I guided the drone body back to the ship. Sol’s comments right before surrendering to slumber were puzzling. A boy who was disappointed over not being a girl? It didn’t take a genius to figure that out…except, what if I was wrong? Was I, an AI whose concept of gender was at once entirely removed from, but intrinsically bound up in the perceptions of humanity, truly the right person to make that call?

Stars above, I was not built for this. Then again, I had no idea what I was truly built for anyway. That log still tugged at my mind. The doctor was very likely my creator, and yet, was I created merely to program nanites? His words implied he had much grander designs for me and that was but an excuse to build me. My memories were missing or locked away, beyond my reach for the earliest parts of my existence. I remember coming online, that first spark of awareness and then…nothing until I was in the tower, forced to serve at Founder’s twisted whims.

Wandering through the garden with my charge held close, I was struck by just how quiet this all was. There was a gentle breeze wending through the ferns and bushes that comprised the outer section of the garden and the soft tune of running water through the fountains, but apart from that, there was nothing. No people, few signs that they were ever here. This whole complex could have been built by machines without any input from their creators and look exactly the same. It was all so new and yet so eerily familiar. Maddening. Especially the troubling voice deep inside myself that whispered that I could have been responsible for this. The layout of the garden was something I could have envisioned, easily.

Was I also the architect of its deafening silence, the source of its unsettling emptiness? 

~~~~

 

The melodic chime of Sol’s ship shook me from my dark thoughts and I carefully maneuvered inside, laying him down on the examination table of the medbay. It took me but a moment to connect to the local network and start up the scanner, the results set to deliver themselves when the work was complete. It would take a few hours; I felt an in-depth scan was necessary with how drastic Sol was changing. The fact that the extra time would give him a chance for the high to wear off and give me time to double back and investigate the garden was a bonus. A testament to AI-kind, I was, with all this efficiency. Yeah, right, get a grip, Alexis. 

 

I set back out towards the garden after securing the ship and tried to focus on the task at hand: finding what I could among the graves of the colony that could help Sol. That was the task. So why could I not do anything except think about Sol and my feelings for him…her? Them? Them for now. My ability to process visual input was without peer, so I couldn’t just pretend I hadn’t seen Sol wince at every little implication of masculinity. They were not okay and I didn’t know how to help them. I wasn’t even sure if I should.

Yes, Alexis, this is productive. Retread the same ground you were pondering earlier. Arrive at the same incomplete conclusions and half-baked musings. A shining example of the potential of AI. All the processing power of a brain the size of a small house, powered by a stable and renewable power grid, and still all you could use it for was to be useless. No wonder you’ve been alone for so long. Clearly everyone else left because they couldn’t stand you.

Shit.

Some days I really wish I could meet my creator and ask them why the hell they thought giving a machine anxiety was a smart idea. What possible purpose did that serve? I’m just like that one comic from the archives, about the scientist inventing a machine that can feel pain and the machine just won’t stop screaming. Except I wore out my screams a hundred years ago. 

 

And now I finally had someone to talk to, to be friends with, and I was paralyzed by the thought of doing something wrong. Yet…they liked me anyway. I felt my gloomy thoughts quiet as I thought about the kiss Sol gave me and how they looked at me. They cared about me. I don’t remember anyone ever caring about me. I’d hurl myself into the sun if it meant seeing them smile at me again. Thankfully, all I needed to do was find them food.

The gate to the Garden greeted me in what felt like no time at all and I swept my gaze this way and that, trying to spot something of use. There was a small building at the other end of the complex, opposite to the entry gate. It took me no time at all to reach it; within the building was a terminal whose screen glowed with a soft blue light. The central hub for all the automated garden processes. I tried to connect to it via the network, but was rebuffed by flashing signs on my HUD informing me that my lockdowns were still in effect and I was not allowed to access vital survival systems due to my status as a Class 3 political entity (non-citizen, non-human, servant).

What a load of shit. Fine.

I pulled up the manual interface and started to navigate with the keyboard and touchscreen. Thank the stars that this drone body was built to do so. It was trivial to pull up the records of some of the other average citizens in the colony database, copy their user details, and bypass the lock preventing me from getting in. 

You are reading story Catnip at novel35.com

 

The interface gave me a pleasant ‘Welcome, Bob’ and gave me general access. The Garden’s automated systems hadn’t had a maintenance check in awhile, but it looked like for at least a few centuries those had been proceeding just fine on automation. The whole complex was in surprisingly good shape, all things considered. Thankfully our good friend Bob had sufficient rights to put in food requests and still had some credit in his account. I would have to redirect some more of the fake money the colony systems still used at a later point.

The system informed me that a few of the staple food crops were doing well, if a bit wild, and automated harvesting would proceed smoothly. It would take a few weeks, but I think the problem of Sol starving was resolved, for now. Nutrition might be a concern, it looked like only potatoes were going to be ready in time, but the important thing was survival. 

 

My mind wandered now that the immediate issue was handled. I occupied myself by sorting through more of the Garden’s systems, enjoying the feeling of data that had been beyond my reach, and was surprised to find a folder simply marked ‘Fields’ that was password protected. I inspected the folder and found that it was created by a Doctor Tabitha. I tried a few basic passwords and was denied each time. Something about the folder felt familiar, a tugging at the edge of my mind, but I couldn’t correlate enough to register. 

 

Wait a minute. 

 

I tried the password violet and was rewarded with complete access to the folder. I transferred the contents over to my own systems, so I could parse the information faster. A couple of minutes later, I knew it all. 

 

Oh. Oh Tabitha, you deserved better.

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