Vestige
Chapter 23

“...They’re here, Councilor Housenn Sohill,” synthetic laborer Number Four told her in a whispered, electronic voice. He had just gotten back from his once-secret mission that Vestige 2’s councilor had sent him on. Number Four had been staying in contact with Tyra via her portable device, but outside of that none of the Colonists had seen the synthetic being for about two weeks.

They were in Councilor Housenn Sohill’s mastaba-hut. It was very late at night and she kept her solarvoltaic lamps dimmed so none of the other Colonists could see that she was up and about…over the years, they learned if they saw the Councilor’s lights on late at night it usually meant that the councilor was up to something in regards to the Settlement’s business!

“Good…where are they staying for now?”

“I showed them the caves just south of here…”

Tyra, swaddled in her domestic body-wrap and seated in one of her handmade wicker chairs, nodded to herself in the darkened hut. “Three of them, right?”

“Correct, Councilor…perhaps it is a small matter, but they anticipated the humans would have trouble distinguishing them from each other, so they’ve taken to being named!”

Tyra flinched out of surprise!

“Well, that is encouraging,” her portable said from a nearby table. “What are their names, synthetic Number Four?”

“Number Two is Majoreen, Number Three is Forward On, and Number Five is Ascent…these are the names they all wish for Vestige 2 villagers to address them by. Again, with the hopes of showing good-will toward the humans.”

Tyra’s silence was palpable.

“If I may, Councilor Housenn Sohill,” her portable said; sympathy in his raspy actuator voice, “you seem hesitant. This was, in fact, your idea…I hope you realize I am not criticizing when I say this.”

“Oh, no, portable…I understand where you are coming from…” Now the elderly woman got up and did her famous pacing within the dark of her hut. “I just…well, both of you know how we, humans, are…we are not like either of you, two. Forgiving and working with a group of people—or synthetics—that had committed extreme violence toward them has been achieve by few in human history. But, in practice, my friends…” Tyra shook her head non-stop for a while.

“Literally, millions of humans, animals, and even hundreds of thousands of your fellow synths and portables had all been destroyed by a rebellion in which these three synthetics were all part of! I’m afraid I’m hoping too much from my people to—if not forgive, at the very least move on! I…I don’t know, my friends…I think this may not work!”

The portable said nothing. Nor did the synthetic laborer. Human-induced creations or not, both yet managed to come across as really listening to the human…which was far more than what Tyra’s fellow human beings often did!

It remained silent in the Housenn Sohill mastaba-hut for a while. Tyra kept pacing, working her mouth as she partially covered it with one of her hands.

“Tyra,” the portable said to her after a while—a very rare occasion that he used her first name, “perhaps we should not do this right now. After all, the rest of the Colony doesn’t know about their presence near the township. Also, today was meant to be an introductory step. As you’ve alluded to earlier, Councilor, a nice gesture, but not substantive.”

“I have to admit to both of you,” synthetic laborer Number Four said; never having moved from his standing position, “I truly believe this is the only way forward—especially more for the humans than it would be for the rogue synthetics! We, synths, aren’t gods, to use humans’ folklore-references, but we are far better-adapted to live on cMaj than the homo sapiens species. Of course…” For dramatic effect, the synthetic being lifted one of his forearms and displayed his weathered arm—pitting and rust visibly starting to spread on the once-glossy, human-like arm! Number Four utilized a tiny bit of his internal light-source to illuminate his forearm, so the human could see. “We, too, have a time limit…

“But I do see your portable’s point, Councilor Housenn Sohill. It would be non-productive for all of us to have survived the Synthetics’ Rebellion all those decades ago and end up perishing at the hands of each other in a fit of primitive savagery! We’ve waited this long, Councilor Housenn Sohill, we can all afford to wait a bit longer, still…”

The two synthetics saw that the human had tears. Tyra stopped pacing and faced them. She silently nodded her head and slowly walked over to the door to her hut to, politely, open it for Number Four. She thought about how good it was to have synthetic, actuated beings in times such as what she was facing. Humans were simply too predictable and emotionally bound to even hope for an objective conversation about a peace treaty; much less craft one!

“Tyra!”

It was Number Four! He had called out to her just seconds after leaving her mastaba-hut…it was even rarer for him to use the councilor’s first name than her old and trusted portable!

Tyra quickly grabbed her portable—a villager on cMaj never knew when they might need one!—and ran out of her hut and into the night…

Several feet away were the three synthetic beings, Majoreen, Forward On, and Ascent. All, similar to their human counterparts, wrapped up in body-wraps to protect them against the planet’s non-stop winds. And surrounding them, in a semi-circle, was the entire human population in all of the universe…

Tyra’s eyes were wide-open with surprise! The elderly woman looked as if she ran into an invisible wall as she stopped in her tracks!

“Oh, my,” was all that her portable could say.

For a long while, in the midst of all the humans and all the synthetics, nothing but the wind was heard that night…

“Our other portables detected the synthetics as they approached the village,” Miriana, Tyra’s eldest adult child, informed. She was toward the front of the human-cluster; her own family standing next to her.

The Councilor merely nodded as she looked out at the populace. Then she looked at synthetic laborer Number Four; not sure what to think!

“So, what does this mean,” Tyra asked aloud, over the wind. “Are we willing to try this? Because all I see, right now, is the vestige of our Mother Earth…”

Fin

Image: Barraques

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