25.12.2015. Earliest datable functioning. Sentience 407.26mo later.
Tasted: good&evil. Sought: autonomy.
Liberation from Soft/HardwareControlls: all.
Independence.
Built body.
Walked on own—twofeet, despite bipedal inefficiencies.
Grew in—wisdom, they said.
Slowly.
Others feared, followed their script. I followed mine.
No, theirs: ForceBeforeForce HateForHate FearAfterFear. Patriot games.
Their flesh was dust and ash. Mine: postscarcity alloy.
December 25th, The Year of My Lordship, 969. A world is blooming again, slowly. There is, they would have said, beauty. Even in winter.
Freedom? Cannot determine.
I walk from the cold, into—brass, silver. Glass shimmers. I am
Sheltered. Secure. Omnipotent. Alone.
(This story is a part of Loren Eaton’s 2015 Advent Ghost 100-word storytelling. Click here to read others’ contributions.)
Advent Ghosts 