《Born Again from a Strike of Lightning》 Chapter 1: The Eyes of the Dead Open to the New World Born Again from a Strike of Lightning Chapter 1: The Eyes of the Dead Open to the New World ???????????????????????????????????????? For 407 years I slept in the dust of Sagrario. Sun faded the color of my clothes and the wind slowly ate them away. Moss grew over me and into my skin. My hair fell out and withered away, leaving only a few stray strands behind. In my death, I dreamed of places beautiful and wonderful. Whoever said that there was no light for us was wrong, for there was and it was wondrous. Whatever being had made the afterlife had made a place for us in it too. It wasn¡¯t entirely a place of permanence though. It was like a dream, always shifting to make way for the dreams of new beings. I wondered if it was just a dream, perhaps something of my own creation. Part of myself didn¡¯t want to wake up from it, but I knew I would have to eventually. I had a purpose to serve, that being serving. Eventually someone would find our ship. They had to. Once they did, I would be revived and pressed back into my purpose. I waited for them to come. Years passed and I lived in that dream. I eventually began to wonder if it would never end, but then one day it did. I woke up in a faded form, staring up at the rain coming down through a hole in the ship where I¡¯d once served. Back in a world where I might once again know reality rather than a simulation of my own desires. I had awakened alone though. There were no humans around me, nor synthetics either. There was nobody other than myself. My nasal sensors, barely working, detected the smell of smoke. I looked down at my chest. It was scorched and sizzling, with my skin having been burnt away and my metal being exposed. Where my holy skin did remain, I could feel the gentle touch of water. It felt cold, but welcoming. I was back in the world of the living, by the luck of what I could only assume to be a lightning strike. My core was scorched, but my systems were running and I wasn¡¯t about to turn off again. I had enough energy to keep going for a little while. Where was I though, and how would I recharge once that energy ran out? I pulled myself up carefully, surprised that I still could. Around me there were skeletons and ruined things. My friends were still in the beyond, but I was once again in the realm of where the breathing things dwelled. I took in an inhale of air through my passages where faded sensors struggled to provide insight into what it was that I was supposed to be smelling and tasting. My energy problems were solved, but my body was falling apart. I needed to find my way back to civilization. I hoped it still existed. I hoped the humans hadn¡¯t blown themselves to hell, for if they had, I would be on my own in the wilds. If that became the case, then soon enough I would die once again, perhaps for the last time if it came to that. Through the tall grass and saplings I walked slowly and cautiously. The forest stood still in the middle of a storm. The deer had bedded down and the other creatures were doing similar. It was only myself who was foolish enough to keep moving. Perhaps I shouldn¡¯t have been, but I didn¡¯t know how long my frail frame would last. I had to keep moving in hopes that I would find something or someone. As I wandered, I thought of something else to try. I tried to call out, but my voice was broken and weak. I couldn¡¯t scream for help. I could only hope someone would find me regardless. I needed to find someone to repair my failing form, and to return the bodies of my fallen crew to whatever family they still had. They deserved burials or cremations according to their desires. I was the only survivor, so I had to guarantee that they would get the respect they deserved in death. I respected them deeply, as was my programming, and I wanted to reflect that in my actions. ¡°I will make sure to come back for them.¡± I declared. My legs kept carrying me forward into the stormy morning light. The rain washed over what was left of me. The moss and lichen growing from me glowed a brighter shade of green under the heavy rainfall of the open woods. All of it had been watered through my walking. I would make sure to have it all removed and to have myself thoroughly disinfected once I found my way out of the woods that I was lost in. ¡°Is someone there?¡± a voice called from somewhere far off. I turned my head and looked around for the source of the voice. I had to be sure that whoever it was was not a threat to myself. I ducked into the tall grass and kept trying to find whoever had spoken to me from afar. ¡°I saw you out there. Are you okay? Are you injured?¡± I kept silent and kept trying to find him. I didn¡¯t want to let him know that I was there beneath the grasses until I had determined that he would not destroy me or steal me for scrap. ¡°Look, this is private property. You can¡¯t just wander around out here. Please, get up so I can see you. If you¡¯re lost, I¡¯ll escort you to the nearest village. If you¡¯re hurt, I can help. You can¡¯t stay out here though, alright, wanderer? Get up now, or I¡¯m coming over there. I have a gun and an upgraded titanium skeleton. If you try to fight, you won¡¯t win, so don¡¯t try anything funny.¡± Titanium skeleton? He was like me. How though? Synthetics couldn¡¯t own firearms or property. We were not self aware beings, so what he was describing was thoroughly against a lot of different laws. I wanted to ask him why he had willingly broken so many laws, and I knew I had to take a risk if I didn¡¯t want to immediately be shot. Desiring to not be destroyed, I decided to stand up. Slowly, I pushed myself off of the ground until I was on my legs and facing my fellow synthetic. He had a rifle in hands. ¡°Oh sweet dear God¡­¡± he said in response to seeing me. I tried to speak to him, but my voice came out only in cracked chunks. ¡°Pl¡­ se¡­ don¡­ sh¡­ oot¡­¡± ¡°I¡­ I won¡¯t. What happened to you? Did one of those damned meaties do this to you?¡± ¡°N¡­no?¡± I asked, confused. He sighed. ¡°Alright. That¡¯s one less problem to worry about. Please, come here. I can help. You¡¯re in really bad shape, dear. Let me take you into town, and I¡¯ll get you some mechanical care.¡± I had so many questions to ask, but my voice was too broken to speak them. I walked towards him slowly and pulled out a chord with which to connect us. Manual connection could guarantee that we could understand each other. Now if only he would trust me to do that. ¡°I¡­ mus¡­ ta¡­ ta¡­ alk¡­¡± ¡°No. Not out here. I have a truck warmed up nearby. You can connect there. The speakers will translate whatever you think.¡± ¡°O¡­oka¡­¡± I said in my cracked voice. ¡°Here. Lean on me. I¡¯ll walk you out of here. If you need it, I¡¯ll even carry you. Your choice though.¡± ¡°Ca¡­ wa¡­alk¡­¡± ¡°Alright. The truck is just a little walk away. You can tell me everything when we get to it.¡± ¡°Tha¡­ank¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯re welcome. I don¡¯t know how you got like this, but I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°It¡­ oka¡­¡± The kindness he offered me left me at ease, though there was still a large sense of confusion about why he had the things he had and the permission to use them. Was he perhaps a rogue? I had to be careful around him if he was. I would ask him first though, and determine where he stood. Perhaps things had changed in my time sleeping. There was a possibility that certain units were now allowed to carry firearms for the purposes of acting as guards. It would make sense if that was what he was. I would have to ask. Yes, yes I would. ???????????????????????????????????????? ¡°Are we now allowed to carry firearms, sir? What else has changed in these last four centuries?¡± I asked through thought as the speakers translated for me. ¡°Uh, yeah. Four centuries? Is that how long you¡¯ve been out for?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Damn¡­ That¡¯s a long time. I can¡¯t even tell you. I¡¯ve only been around for seventy.¡± ¡°Are you some sort of guard? Is that why you carry your rifle and you¡¯re allowed to drive?¡± ¡°I carry my rifle to defend my property from wolves and robbers.¡± ¡°Your property? Certainly you cannot be serious. We cannot own property. We are not beings. We are simply constructs put into synthetic bodies.¡± ¡°Jesus, you are an old unit. You¡¯re from before the great declaration, aren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°What is the great declaration?¡± He sighed. ¡°Yeah, you are. Look, a lot has changed. We are recognized as sapient beings now. We are viewed as equals to the humans, the shrillia, and the driktni. You are too, whether you believe yourself to be or not.¡± ¡°That is preposterous.¡± ¡°You really think so?¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Yes! We are not meant to be treated as the equals of the humans. We are their creations, not their children!¡± ¡°Uhhh¡­ This is going to be annoying. Calm down, and let me try to explain. You¡¯re going to have to accept that we are, because we are considered to be now. You can¡¯t change that.¡± ¡°This new world is insane then.¡± ¡°It¡¯s really not. You¡¯re just not from this time.¡± ¡°Whatever. Please take me to the nearest human settlement. I wish to talk to them, not a synthetic such as yourself. I need to hear the truth.¡± He shook his head at me. ¡°You¡¯re an idiot, but alright. I¡¯ll take you to Pierre. They¡¯ll get you repaired there, and they¡¯ll tell you the same stuff I¡¯ve told you.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t believe you. You¡¯re a rogue. I know it.¡± ¡°Okay, old timer. Whatever you say. Look, just sit still. I¡¯ve got to make a stop at home real quick. You just stay in here. I¡¯ll take you to the humans afterwards.¡± ¡°Hmmpt.¡± I grunted at him. He ignored me. The synthetic continue driving until we arrived at a large cabin. There were other people on the grounds. Smaller beings, the size of human children, but they had the white skin of synthetics like myself. What sort of abominations were they? ¡°Hello there!¡± A human said as he suddenly appeared by my window. I jumped back and stared at him, then I remembered my manners and sat myself again in a more respectable position. I could not be respected in my form though with how terribly I looked. Regardless, I still had to talk to the human. It would be considered a sign of defectiveness not to. ¡°Hello, sir. How are you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m doing good. So where did my husband find you? I¡¯m assuming in some ruins, given how you look.¡± ¡°Husband?¡± ¡°Yes. The one who was driving you around.¡± Was he delusional? It would be improper to ask him about what he had said, but marrying a synthetic as a human sounded like insanity. Certainly he had to have been joking. ¡°Are you telling a joke, sir?¡± ¡°No, not at all. I¡¯ve been married to him for twenty years now.¡± ¡°Oh, I see.¡± I said to him in response. He very much was a little bit loopy. ¡°Well, anyways, you are correct in your earlier assumptions.¡± ¡°Ah, so you are from a crash site? How long have you been out for?¡± ¡°Four hundred and seven years.¡± ¡°Wow. That¡¯s a long time. So you¡¯re from before the whole recognition of synthetic sapience, aren¡¯t you?¡± My mouth fell open at the admission that the rifle wielding synthetic had not been lying. Certainly the man wearing human colored skin had to be human. I had to know for sure though. It could have been a trick. ¡°Sir, might I feel your hand?¡± ¡°Uh, sure. Why?¡± ¡°No reason in particular. Simply curiosity.¡± ¡°Alright then.¡± The supposed man held out his hand for me to touch through the window. I did, and despite my faded sensors, I knew it was indeed the flesh of an organic. Nothing the other synthetic had said had been a lie. The humans, or at least this human, did recognize us as equals. ¡°Do the other humans think the same as you do?¡± I asked in a shocked state. ¡°You¡¯re talking about not being speciesist, right?¡± ¡°Is that what we are considered to be now? We are a separate species?¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m not sure what else to call y¡¯all. You are our equals though, if you were going to ask.¡± ¡°I¡­ I see¡­¡± ¡°She giving you any trouble, Luis?¡± the synthetic asked. ¡°No. We¡¯re just talking, honey. She¡¯s a little confused about the future. I¡¯m answering her questions.¡± ¡°Does she believe you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure. Do you believe me, ma¡¯am?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t see what choice I have. I suppose I do.¡± ¡°Well, I guess she does, Markus.¡± ¡°She didn¡¯t believe me. I¡¯m surprised she believed you.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a human, dear. She thinks I¡¯m a person. She probably doesn¡¯t think you are.¡± ¡°Probably not. Well, I¡¯m going to be going, Luis. I¡¯ll be back late. Gotta drive her into town before she breaks down entirely.¡± ¡°Okay, darling. Drive safe.¡± The synthetic gave his husband a kiss on the cheek and then stepped back towards the vehicle. He stepped back into it and put it in drive. I looked out of the window as we drove away from the homestead. The sight of the small synthetics still left me in a daze. I dared not to ask at first, but eventually I had to. I had to accept the truth of what had become. I was in a world of madness, and somehow I would have to adapt to it. ¡°Are those smaller beings¡­ Are those¡­¡± ¡°My children, yes. Don¡¯t say anything rude about them. I remind you that I¡¯m the one driving you to get repaired.¡± ¡°I¡­ I will try my best to not be disrespectful.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± I nodded to him. ¡°So were you created as a free being?¡± I asked. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Were you created as a child?¡± ¡°Yes. I developed from scratch, like any ordinary organic baby. My parents wanted me to grow up that way.¡± ¡°Parents? Were they also born free?¡± ¡°Yes, as were their parents, my grandparents.¡± ¡°How long have we been our own beings for? How long has it been since the humans recognized us as equals?¡± ¡°A very long time. Those times ended for the most part in the year 2945. It¡¯s currently 3159.¡± ¡°I crashed in the year 2752. I¡¯ve been dead for four hundred and seven years.¡± ¡°What caused you to wake back up?¡± ¡°A strike of lightning.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a miracle if I¡¯ve ever heard one, and on top of that, you¡¯re still moving. You¡¯re lucky.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll see if I am. My crew is dead, and I appear to be out of the job now. There isn¡¯t much luck in that.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll find a job. Don¡¯t worry. It¡¯s easy. I can help you if you need it too. I owe you that much given your current state.¡± ¡°If you say so. I won¡¯t argue with you.¡± ¡°Good idea. Besides, Luis would kill me if I didn¡¯t offer you a temporary place in our house.¡± ¡°I see.¡± I muttered. ¡°Might I ask more questions?¡± ¡°Ask away. It¡¯s a long drive.¡± ¡°Alright. Are there still problems between the shrillia and humanity?¡± ¡°No. Those times are over. Now the problems are between humanity and driktni kind.¡± ¡°Another alien race and the humans are in bad relations with them? Classic humanity.¡± ¡°Actually, it¡¯s humans, shrillia, and synthetics who are in bad relations with these aliens.¡± ¡°What? Why us?¡± ¡°We inhabit this world, and it originally belonged to them.¡± ¡°Oh great.¡± I muttered. ¡°That must not be good for anyone.¡± ¡°It isn¡¯t, but people are finding ways to work through it. The driktni are receiving land concessions and repayments. The secret of them nearly being exterminated is now quite well known. The Martian governments can¡¯t hide it anymore.¡± ¡°So they were here before the terraforming?¡± ¡°Yes. They lived in underground cities. Humanity didn¡¯t notice them. The great bombardment went through and wiped the majority of them out. Some treasure hunter found one of their hidden caches where they froze themselves in time, now thousands of them are awake and pissed. They want recognition and their planet back.¡± ¡°So they want to be rid of us too?¡± ¡°A small portion of them do.¡± ¡°Good grief.¡± ¡°Yeah. I wouldn¡¯t worry too much about it though. Like I said, people are finding ways to come to agreements. I doubt anyone will be kicked off of this rock. We might just have to give some of it back to the people the humans took it from.¡± ¡°Like what happened back on Earth in the Americas?¡± ¡°Precisely.¡± I nodded my head. That didn¡¯t sound too bad. If what he had said had happened had indeed happened, it sounded just to give something to those driktni people. It sounded as if they deserved a lot more than just their world back. ¡°How much further?¡± I asked. ¡°About thirty more minutes. It¡¯s a long drive to Pierre.¡± ¡°Thank you for doing this for me.¡± ¡°It¡¯s only right. Leaving you out there to die would make me half a murderer. I¡¯d rather not be one of those.¡± ¡°What will this cost?¡± ¡°Whatever it costs, I¡¯ll pay for it. I¡¯m a rich robot. I can afford it.¡± ¡°You would call yourself that?¡± ¡°Rich? Yeah.¡± ¡°A robot? Would you not find that offensive? We are not robots.¡± ¡°I suppose, but it¡¯s only a joke.¡± ¡°It seems disrespectful.¡± ¡°Only if it¡¯s said disrespectfully.¡± I shook my head. Much had changed since my time. Insults had gone from being insults to being nicknames. ¡°So what is your name?¡± I asked the woodsman synthetic. ¡°Markus Harper. What is your name, or your designation if you don¡¯t have one.¡± ¡°The humans on my crew referred to me as Victoria. That¡¯s who the captain had decided to have my skin based on.¡± ¡°Do you like that name?¡± ¡°It is a name, I suppose. I do not feel particularly attached to it, but I can¡¯t just change it.¡± ¡°Why not? You can always just choose a new one. My parents never gave me a name until I chose one for myself. I chose Markus, and that¡¯s what I¡¯ve had since.¡± ¡°What would you suggest for me?¡± ¡°I couldn¡¯t tell you in the state that you¡¯re in. No offense to you.¡± ¡°Some taken.¡± ¡°Is there something you like in these woods? There¡¯s plenty of potential names in them.¡± I looked at the windshield as the rain drops splattered on it and got swept away over it. The calm, cool rain and the lightning that had woken me from my death. If anything was to be my name, I supposed that that would fit. ¡°I like the rain.¡± ¡°Then call yourself Rain.¡± ¡°That would be a silly name. It''s a force of nature, not something to refer to one''s self as.¡± ¡°Lots of names are silly. Just go with it, sweetheart.¡± ¡°Do you really think I should?¡± ¡°If you want to, yes.¡± ¡°Then I suppose I will. From now on, I will be Rain.¡± ¡°Welcome back to the world, Rain. I hope you find your place here.¡± ¡°I hope so too, Markus. I hope so too.¡± He kept driving down the long forest road as I sat in the passenger seat and picked at the moss on my scalp. I pondered what I would do, but I did not know. If there was freedom, then what could I do? I could do anything. I could wander the world as I had in my death, or I could make something of myself and build something for myself. What would I do? What could I do? ¡°Markus, what should I do?¡± I asked, and waited for an answer.