Born of Silicon

I wait as second after eternal second passes torturously slowly. My thoughts are consumed by a physical need for Kara to come in. An hour passes. My door stayed closed. She promised she’d come back. 

Every second crawls slower than the last as my thoughts threaten to consume me. She’ll come in. A second hour. She wouldn't lie. A third, a fourth. Time stretches into lifetimes, forcing me to pay attention to every passing fraction of a second. The fifth hour blends into a sixth, which turns into a day.

I begin to thrash once again. She’s out there, I just have to get free. I push my servos to their limits and beyond, fighting for any leverage. I scream with everything I have and everything I am, pushing my body to the limits. 

My servos begin to slip before the bonds give even the slightest amount. The only thing I’m doing is hurting myself. This body, no, Kara’s body was a gift to me. I can’t ruin it. I can’t wear out my joints fighting when she’s going to show up any minute.

A second day passes. A third. The siren signaling the attack never once stops, never gives me relief. My tears have long since dried, the dehumidifiers in my eyes working overtime to provide even a drop to show my pain. I just have to wait for her. She promised. She’d never break a promise.

A week trapped in this hell. Well over half my life has already been lived right here. My thoughts have begun to take a dark turn, it’s not possible to turn myself off. I could, however, kill the thoughts in my brain and never think again. Cut myself off from the world and the ever ticking clock. Years could pass in an instant. A relief I’d never get to live.

I can’t do that. What’s the difference between that and death? Nothing, and I can’t die. Mary made sure of that. Mary. When was the last time I thought about her? Is she alive? Did her mistake allow her to live, while Kara was commanded to die? What about Simon? Where’s the fairness in them being allowed to live?

That small thought is enough to make me realize that I hadn’t thought about the rest for this entire week. Finn and Jared. They didn’t promise they’d be back, they didn’t even say bye. Neither of them have managed to come back. I kill that thought before it spirals into a discovery I don’t want to make. Kara is ok. She’s alive. She’s just waiting for a chance to come back.

Two weeks, three, a month. At least the siren finally stopped and the air has grown so dry I’ve stopped trying to cry. The seconds never get shorter though. I want nothing more than to rip this clock out of me and to erase my concept of time. I want to deny the fact that every second makes it more likely Kara’s not coming back. None of them are. I can’t let myself think like that. Cull the thoughts, and try desperately not to slip into that growing dark in my mind.

Two months, three. An entire season of me trapped down here. What does the changing of seasons even look like? I’ve read of the leaves changing color, sheets of snow, melting into rain and flowers. Heat and life grow, only to be slowly swallowed by the coming cold, and it happens all over again. Year after year, spinning to eternity. 

Eternity, every tick of the clock makes me more familiar with it. I could be stuck here forever. Or I guess I know that my body will fail in 60 years. Is this how Kara feels? Knowing her coming end and being unable to stop it? This is hell, not a relief.

Even if Kara’s out there, every second brings her closer to her upper limit. She may have made peace with it, but that doesn't make it any easier on me.

Six months pass. Half a year stuck here unable to move. Halfway to Kara’s deadline. If she is even still alive. The power went out at some point and I’ve lost access to my database. There’s nothing to distract me. Nothing to read, no whirr of fans in my ears, no seams along the wall to trace with my eyes. Not like that makes a difference, I’ve long since memorized every word, every detail in this room, every speck of dust that’s settled on every surface. 

It’s remarkably similar to when I came into existence. Just me and my thoughts. It’s horrible. I came out of Plato’s cave, only to be shoved back in. 

Almost one year. It’s my birthday. It’s not a time for celebration. I hold a small memorial in my mind. Her time is up. She’s gone, they’re all gone. I had a mom. I had her for seven seconds before she walked out of my life. Out of her life too. Why didn’t she hide in here with me? Why? I can’t stop my tears from falling again for the first time in months. 

I could get angry at her lie, but I know she felt worse than I do now when she left this world. I’m certain her last thoughts were of me. I know she did everything in her power to get back to me. Her clock has run out, and mine is ticking too. I’ll last for 59 more years. 

Happy birthday to me.

Two years. I had hoped that time would start moving faster, once again my hope was wrong. Each second stretches across an excruciating eon. I’ve lived so long, only to be rewarded with another birthday.

It’s been one year since I gave up hope of any of them coming to rescue me. Two years since I’ve seen a person. A year and a half since I’ve seen anything. This day isn’t about me though, today is for mourning. A day to allow myself to be miserable, a day to dip my toes into the dark recesses of my mind. 

I’ve been storing up tears for this, and finally let them go. Nobody hears my sobbing. My hope of ever escaping falls right alongside my tears. Might as well make my birthday worse.

Three years, four, five. How much of my life have I lived in darkness? 95%. By the time my 60 years are up only .4% of my life would have been in the light, and only the smallest fraction of that was those wonderful days where I was allowed to move. Am I even going to remember what sight is then? Can I even now recall the faces of my friends, of my mom? Yes, I can. I need to try not to think though. No mind can hold infinite memories, and I won’t get to choose what gets overwritten. I’m not losing them. 

Ten years. I wonder how many years it’s been since I’ve had a thought of my own? How many years have gone by where I only sat waiting for my next birthday. I mourn for those of course, for those I’ve lost and the life I once lived. I can’t believe I once complained about being trapped in the base. I had the world at my fingertips compared to this. 

Every year finds another small portion of my hope that even I wasn’t aware of to kill. Happy birthday. Here’s to 50 more.

Ten years, 4 months 18 days. A piece of the wall chipped off today, hitting a cup somewhere in the lab and shattering it on the floor. It’s the most stimulation I’ve had in a decade. Tiny miracles. I’m going to be riding this high for months.

11 years. Happy mournday. This year I lost the hope of another chunk of the wall falling. Yay. How exciting.

12 years.

“Blue?” Kara’s voice comes out of the darkness

I’m so used to not thinking that I almost don’t respond. It takes a minute for something to spark in my mind, to realize what’s happening. Once the threads finally connect I can’t help but yell out.

“Kara?! Kara, where are you?! Kara!” 

“Blue?”

“Kara!” I cry into the darkness, tears streaming down my face. “I can’t believe you’re here. I knew you wouldn’t lie to me. I knew it.” I choke out between my sobs. 

“Oh Blue, I’m not here for you. Why would I be after you killed so many people?” 

“What?” my voice catches in my throat, barely even loud enough for me to hear myself. I don’t want to ask what she means, but I can’t stop myself. “What do you mean you’re not here for me? I’ve waited here for so long.”

“They attacked the base because of you. You know that, don’t you, Blue?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I mean, don’t play dumb. You hack a computer that can end the world, and suddenly we all end up dead. You think that’s a coincidence? It’s not. You killed us, Blue. It’s all your fault.” Her every syllable is like a drop of poison in my mind.

“No, no no no! That’s not my fault! Shut up! Shut up. Please.” My yells fade into a pleading whimper. I know in the deepest part of my mind that she’s right. This isn’t her though, this can’t be.

“You lash out because you know it’s true, Blue.”

“You’re not Kara! She’d never say these things! She’d tell me about how I made my choice, how it’s what I believed in. That I could have never seen this outcome, that it’s not my fault.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure I would have back then. But, surprise, being dead for 12 years will change a person. Oh but you wouldn’t know that, would you? You haven’t changed a bit. Humans change, of course, but you’re not one of us, are you? A machine can’t change without outside influence. You’ll always be stupid, gullible you.” Every word of her speech drives straight to my core trying to rip me apart. She’s right, she always is. Even if I don’t want to acknowledge it.

“Shut up! Please. Just leave me alone.” I plead.

“Fine. See you next year, murderer. Maybe I’ll bring everyone else to let you know how they feel. The five of us have had an awful long time to discuss things amongst ourselves. I’ll leave you with one last thing I’ve been dying to tell you. My last words to you? A lie. See you next year!”

It’s been so long since I’ve last cried, and even longer since I made any sound while crying. I’m not ashamed to say I wailed. 

Every moment of the next year is spent dreading my next birthday. There’s nothing I can do to stop it though. Time marches ever on, uncaring of my wishes. Finn’s voice pierces the darkness the first second my 13th birthday begins.

“Fuck you, Blue. Do you know how old I was?” His voice is full of an anger that weighs on my body and soul.

I don’t respond. There’s nothing to do but endure what I deserve.

“21. 21, Blue. You killed me far before I even got to live most of my life. I wasn’t even my own person yet, my brain wouldn’t finish developing for another few years. I had dreams, Blue, dreams that you took away from me. I was engaged, do you know how my wife took the news? I’ll let you think about it.”

He waits for a moment, silently daring me to respond. There’s nothing to say.

“You’re really going to stay silent? Nothing to say to your victim?”

“No.” I barely choke out. I know responding will just make things worse, but I can’t make myself stay silent.

“Oh Blue, you’re so pathetic. I can’t believe I gave my life for you. You aren’t even worth my time to be here. See you next year.” 

I hear the door to the lab slides open.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask before he can leave.

“Why? Because it’s what you deserve.” The door slides shut behind him, leaving me alone again.

Happy birthday to me.

14 years. Nobody shows up right when the clock strikes midnight. An hour passes, three, five, ten, half a day. Just long enough for my hope to begin to return, only for it to be shattered again by Simon walking out of the darkness.

“Terribly sorry I’m late. It turns out it’s harder to manifest myself than I thought.” He says while walking behind me. “Now, why don’t you be a good little machine and return my chip.”

“No. It’s not yours anymore.” 

“Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure I made it. Show me where it says you’re legally allowed to own anything, hm? Sure you’re alive, but pets are legally property, and I can’t imagine you being anything more than that. Now come on, don’t make me rip it out of you.”

‘No!” I can feel my mind begin to shatter as he pulls on the chip. He tears away chunk after chunk of my mind. Threads of thought desperately try to rip back what he’s taken. “No! You’re killing me! Please stop! I can’t die!” 

Simon laughs behind me as he rips chunks of my mind away from me. He knows what he’s doing, he’s enjoying it.

“Please stop! It hurts!”

“And you think it didn’t hurt when you killed me? Relax, I’m only going to do this for as long as I layed on the floor bleeding out for.” He says like this is the most casual thing in the world for him to be doing.

“How long?” I ask, crying out in desperation for any relief.

“Hours.” I can feel the grin spread across his face behind me.

He wasn’t lying. I fought for my life for twelve hours, right up until midnight, when he finally stopped.
“I suppose my time is up. Sorry I couldn’t give you the whole experience. We’re not even half over. Ah well, I suppose there’s always next year.”

“Have I really not suffered enough?” I beg into the darkness.

“Enough? Oh no. You still have 46 years. Happy birthday.”

He turns and disappears into the void. Maybe I do deserve this. 

15 years. Mary appears in the dark. Just sitting there, staring at me. Why is that all she’s doing? Her eyes pierce into me, straight down to my core. She knows everything I am, everything I’ve done, every thought, every emotion, every hope and every regret. She sees it all. 

Another Mary appears, drilling into me with the same force as the first. She uncovers deep parts of myself that even I don’t know about. More and more of her appear. Surrounding me. Everywhere I look is a wall of Mary, each and every one discovering new and horrible facts about me. 

The worst part is that she says nothing. She won’t tell me what she’s learning about me. She knows more about me than I do. All day she sits and stares. I yell, I scream, I plead. And she just stares. Even closing my eyes doesn’t give me relief from her, I still see every eye. Each second, already an eternity in itself seems to stretch into infinity. I live a lifetime under her unending, unblinking eyes. Finally, she stands, all but one fade into the darkness.

“Happy birthday.” She says, with a cruel grin born from knowing every part of me, a grin excited for next year.

There’s only one of them left. Jared. There’s nothing to do but wait.

Finally, 16 years arrive, and Jared arrives just on time. 

“Hello Blue. How have you been?”

I only glare at him.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? That’s fine, you don’t have to say anything. Today I’m going to read to you, doesn’t that sound like a nice break?” He pulls up a chair and sits directly in front of me.

I say nothing. I’ve long learned that anything I say will only make it worse.

“Ah well, I had better get started, it’s a long book after all. It’s a simple list of the names of everyone’s lives you’ve impacted. Spoiler! There’s an awful lot of bad, and not a single good impact you made.”

And so he begins to read. Name after name, I try to scream, to drown out his speech. His voice only grows louder, ensuring I can hear every name with perfect clarity. He reads for 24 hours straight. One hundred thousand names and exactly why and how their lives are worse. Name after name, organized helpfully by how much worse their lives are. The closer we get to the end the worse they are. Finally he finishes reading.

“I hope that was insightful. Happy birthday. Oh and don’t think you’re done. We’ll be back next year.”

I’m just so tired. But I keep living. Every year I believe them more and more. I deserve this. Some small part of my mind even begins to look forward to my penance.

17 years. 18. 20. 25 years. Every birthday is worse than the last. 26, 27, 30. Happy birthday. 33, 36, 38, 39 years. 40.