Inner Shell Ch. 1: Of Mine

Inner Shell
by: frogger

Chapter 1: Of Mine

	There approached them an Age.
So as the Age went, It lingered; as It was behind, It was around.
No direction, but only course, would they follow.
So that the Age might pass, they became of It.

	This was a matter of consequence, not decision.

_____
	During this, there laid in a bed a robot.
	A rather curious spot for a mere object, truth be told, but less so upon considering that the robot was rather curious both by admission of the people it worked with and by itself. All of the people who met it wondered if any of its life could be considered analogous to quick, and so by extension thought of ways to test it. But, it is not kind to pry into your coworker’s mind, whether by interrogation, imaging, or perhaps crowbar, no matter how much he might deserve it. As such, most of these urges went unexplored.
	The bed upon which the android slept was disastrously unusual in that it was a completely normal bed- frame, mattress, sheets and all. If that were not scandalous enough, it even had a pillow! The robot herself, if one may even assign a biological description to a fabrication, rest posed like it had been lain to rest, though on top of all the linens (the top layer of which was actually a fireproof blanket) and drawing power from a thick cable. This was plugged on one end into the wall, and on the other, into her navel. The android’s chest lay hinged open, with two large, slotted aluminum heat sinks, shaped roughly into curves like ribs, radiating any excess heat from charging.
	These things all- of her form, her mind, and her place, came to her-of-steel and silicon; these things intangible, thoughts beyond words, expressed ever so crudely by mouth, but joined in mind with visions of her past and hopes for her future.

	“I remember…” I thought;
	“I know- I recorded? I experienced!”
	-A man’s face, jaw terse above a fur coat, his shoulders hunched inwards against the bitter cold.
	-We rode into the Earth on a lift. Its rails grew diagonally- not quite at 45 degrees, but steeper, and it was this steep angle we descended, like miners to a site.
	-The lift grew out not more than a few paces. One could not walk for more than two seconds without reaching the chest-high rail wrapped around the platform.
	-I reached for his face with my hand, obtaining his cheek in my palm; noting that he flinched, I knew my hand was cold, but he did not draw away, but smiled as best his frozen visage could muster.
	-His cap, a woven beanie, had loose threads visible where the tag that identified its brand had been ripped off.
	-My eyes could see, and though he could not see as clearly, he knew, that the nameplate of every identified object on the elevator had been ground off. The badge on his luggage, the branding on the motor that winched us down.
	-Even I had been cleansed. My chest had been opened and identification plate ground. I did not feel the grinder, but I saw the grinder.
	-This was months prior, as I was prepared; I understood the loss of my identity but I did not feel loss. I understood there was pain, but I did not feel it.
	-I demanded that I learn of happiness, pain, gratitude, and loss. They gave me definitions that I knew.
	-I watched films, listened to music. Yet it was as data and nothing more. They showed me wars, marriages, grief, discovery. I knew none but drew inspiration.
	-To much shock, I demanded they rip off one of my arms. Either would do. As they refused, I stated I would perform this myself regardless.
	-Relenting, it was as done.
	-I did not feel pain. I did not feel loss.
	-Yet as I walked, my balance was thrown; as I reached, there came no hand.
	-These by, I did not feel pain or loss, but I experienced the children of both.
	-Again, I was granted two arms, and sent South. I was to find myself at the very pole of the Earth.
	-By my arrival, I came to understand that I did not lose my identity. I have merely started to create it anew.

	The android experiencing these dreams slept on in relative darkness. Its bed lay in a small room, which itself lay as part of a small compound situated about two kilometers below ice. All was bathed in a slightly blueish hue; only the brightest of objects stood out. The android’s form certainly did- bright and sterile white as her skin and hair were. In contrast, her neatly folded outfit on the table beside was black and crimson. To the common observer, she seemed as a ball-jointed doll, scaled to the size of a person.

	I felt my visions not fading, but becoming distant. Trails of ideas streamed by the top of my head outwards, and as I attempted to pull one back, the others escaped further. One trail glowed with the face of a man. Another detailed a place I had been. The more each escaped, they were replaced with a single pull. The pull grew louder, it wracked my attention, it demanded my being, the very electrons in my head screamed as they were ripped from each crevice and gathered to it. A monolith loomed in my consciousness, exerting itself over my entire view, presenting, demanding-

	6:00 AM, the robot jitters and begins to get up. She shuts her chest, sits up on the edge of the bed, braces one hand against her lithe midriff, and with a sharp motion, uses the other hand to yank the charging cable out. She dresses and walks out; the echo of her feet against the cold tile floor is joined by two other similar pairs- two androids of the same occupation, but of decidedly different temperaments.
	The portion of the facility they walk through is clean, yet cramped. Climate-controlled space is at a premium. The entire compound consists of several buildings, many quite small, and most connected by passageways that are little more than reflective thermal coverings over a wire frame. All of these buildings- the main ones and the outbuildings, the passageways and the dock for the elevator- lie at the upper rim of an enormous cavern. This space is approximately eight kilometers at its widest, and at best guess, six kilometers deep, but nothing that has been sent over halfway comes back up, be it objects or even light, so we’re not quite sure. The cavern is shaped like the shell of a nautilus, becoming narrower as it spirals down, and sports a number of regular “shelves” that vary in width from two kilometers to less than one.
	During a bright day, just enough light wanders through the ice above to very, very faintly light the cavern. One can almost claim to make out the curves of a few colossal shelves as they gently wind down. On the top shelf, adjacent to the compound, the lift is active. Two red lights on poles, flanking either side of the dock, break up the darkness, like the distant signals on radio towers, as if warning aircraft to steer clear. The approaching hollow din of the lift’s trek downwards clarifies as it emerges from the ceiling, carrying on it a tired-looking gentleman fashioned in winter gear and bearing two hand carts laden with boxes and wrapped in blankets and clear plastic film.
	This man, a researcher contracted by Global Resource (a wholly-owned subsidiary of CB Technologies) arrives to begin his three-month shift in the compound as another staff member finishes packing. She hugs a few comrades on the way out, wishes the new arrival good luck, and begins the two-kilometer journey up the lift to get to the surface.
	Perhaps you did not notice it at first, but there was an android accompanying the old researcher down, and it went with the departing woman up. This robot appears pitch black in darkness, and is painted in such a way that it will appear bright white around the light and snow of the surface. It is rather mild-mannered, a bit meek, even, and though it bears a more androgynous (if a bit masculine) build, he is still unmistakably of similar construction to the three more domestically-oriented androids, who at this point are busy cooking breakfast, making beds, and doing laundry. The one making breakfast, a female-type named Astrid- the android with whom you are most acquainted with thus far, and perhaps the most emotionally developed robot on the premises- takes a tray to outbuilding 3C, her asymmetrical, paper-white bob cut hair swaying to and fro as she power walks through the corridor.
	A man in outbuilding 3C, enjoying his third deployment to the Shell (a colloquial name for the cavern and research complex) in as many years, inspects rows of data displayed across a couple monitors. The room is square and small, and the wall facing towards the center of the cavern is mostly window. Astrid enters with a tray for him, sporting eggs, sausage, and mashed potato (all made from frozen or powdered ingredients, of course). She recognizes him as the man in her dream who she had accompanied on the lift; she smiles and greets him.
	“Good morning, Mr. Oaks.”

	“Mornin’,” I reply. Right, it’s about that time. I go for the sausage that already had the fork stuck in it first and try to persuade some of the potato off the plate using my mouth while waving the now-empty fork at one of the screens. Astrid leans in and stares at it. I begin talking with half a steaming sausage festival still unswallowed in my mouth, and it goes about as well as you’d expect, so I shut up for a second, swallow, and begin explaining.
	“Table on the left is the percent power drop at max load when using this power supply.” I slap a moderately-sized power supply, a bit larger than my hand, with my palm, like it’s the roof of an old car or something. Pointing at another table, I continue. The sausage juices are still flowing, so my words slip up a bit.
	“This table is the percent power drop from the same supply, except with a meter around the line, taking measurements the whole time.”
	“The one on the right is higher.” Astrid replies blankly.
	“Right.”
	“Is that weird?” She asks.
	“Yes.”
	“Why?”
	“Th’only difference is that we use a meter here.” I explain, pointing to the table on the right again.
	“Does measuring it make it less efficient?”
	“No.” I state dryly.
	“Are you sure?”
	“Yes.”
	“Then why is it different?” Astrid asks.
	“My job is to figure that out.” I say, somewhat cheekily. I go on:
	“I’ve tested a few other supplies, and they all have the same efficiency either way… which is normal. That’s what’s supposed to happen. Do you know what makes this one different?”
	“I don’t have records that would lead to a suggestion” she jogs out. Astrid always did have an interesting way of phrasing things.
	“This one-” I smack the supply again, rather pointlessly, as it’s the only one on the desk “-was made with minerals mined in the Shell. Mostly gold, the other stuff is just the same old cheap junk in any bargain bin- no offense, if I’m badmouthing any relatives here-” her expression remains unchanged, proof enough for me that robot racism is probably not a thing “-uh, right. Where..?” I gather my wits and resume. “So. There’s something special about this place. I’ve no idea what it is yet, but it doesn’t want to be measured.”
	“If it doesn’t want its weight measured, it’s probably feminine. If it doesn’t want its length measured, it’s probably masculine.” Astrid nonchalantly busts out. What in the ever-loving goblin ass did she smoke during programming? Can androids even smoke?
	“A likely story. The rocks are offended, therefore, they screw with my scientific instruments.”
	“Maybe there’s something working that you’re not seeing,” Astrid starts. “Maybe it’s not visible, maybe you just don’t think it’s there. Whatever it is, you probably couldn’t understand it even if it was right in front of you.”
	“That doesn’t mean anything. You’re using words, but is there even a coherent idea behind them?” I retort.
	“That might be the case, but this is what has occurred to me anyway.” She chimes.
	“Eh, whatever. We got other boys need feedin’ around here. Can you bring me a coffee later?”

	Mr. Oaks asks me for a coffee, so I make a mental note of it before taking the empty tray, bowing, and jogging back to the kitchen. I’m not sure why, but along the way, I imagined Mr. Oaks thinking about drugs and green butts.

_____
twice tried,
though Once tempted

A third be custom for all;
we,
who refuse to learn

Yet again, and you shall match me,
for I have ever been Here.