Pluralities by Avi Silver

Author:Avi Silver
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781961654013
Publisher: Atthis Arts LLC
Published: 2023-07-04T17:28:25+00:00

I don’t know if you remember this. We were so young.

The prince sat alone by the lake, those many years ago. He was hiding, though he can no longer remember what from; he was crying too, though he can no longer remember why. Many afternoons were spent this way, looking out at the rippling pink waters and trying to understand where and when and how he was. Everything was too big, and he could not find his place in it, and his words all came out too loud or too quiet.

This is what most people call childhood. From what the prince has been told, it’s something that’s meant to be looked back on fondly.

But the prince does not think he knew what happiness was, before Bo.

That day, as he wept into his knees, the B.O.D.Y. unit came over to investigate. It was so new back then, metallic casing around an unrefined lump of ylem, no larger than a toaster, with a single blinking bulb that could answer yes or no questions.

But Bo did not answer anyone’s questions, before Cornelius.

Eager to investigate this small organic, it flew up to the boy too quickly, bumping him on the forehead. He shouted and fell back, his face all snot and distressed hiccuping. He stared at the small machine, antennae twitching in alarm. “Who are you?” he asked, both sets of eyes gone wide.

The B.O.D.Y. said nothing, unsure of how to respond.

“What do you want?” the boy whimpered, rubbing his eyes. Machines couldn’t laugh at people for crying, could they? He hated being laughed at.

The B.O.D.Y. said nothing, unsure of how to respond.

The boy looked around nervously. Did this strange, flying thing belong to anyone? He picked himself up off the ground, cautiously examining the machine for any sigils or signatures. It bobbed in front of him, the whir of its engine barely audible over the song of the cicadas, the splash of silvery beasts that roamed the deep end of the lake.

“Are you . . . are you a B.O.D.Y.?” he asked shyly.

The robot gave a single, bright blink of its bulb, pleased to have been asked a question it could understand.

“Wow!” The prince had heard of these before—Bionic Organic Developmental Ylem! Sentient machines powered by life-giving cores, able to assemble their parts the same way organics picked out clothing or exoshells. They were mostly nomadic, traveling where they wished until they took an interest in something long enough to form a bond. No one really knew where they came from, or what they wanted from other sentient species. “Do you have a name?”

The B.O.D.Y.’s light flickered a low negative.

“Can I give you one?”

The bulb brightened, cautious—

“Is Bo okay?”

—and grew brighter still, happy to have been named by this soft, tearful thing. The boy’s palms were wide and clumsy, his fingers pudgy and curious as he kneaded at his pants. Even a unit as new as this B.O.D.Y., as new as Bo, could see that he wanted to touch. It’s in the nature of organics, to grab when they get curious.

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