Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. It is a draft; there are mistakes, many misspellings and sometimes long periods of no updates. copyright: ion fyr 2025
Later, as Luc looked closely at the broken edge of Pool’s arm, analyzing the mechanism, gears and the veriform flesh covering the structure, the way it looked under a maginifier, both Etelka’s best glass lens and the maxed out capabilities of his own scroll, leaning over Pool like a test subject, he made the later, the subject, feel uncomfortable.
“Mr Maron, sir, you are too close,” Pool said, politely but firmly pushing Luc back with his remaining hand.
Luc, not thwarted said looking over his shoulder at Etelka, “not even a sound from the servos. For the technology level, the quality is amazing.”
“Constable,” began Etelka, “how long have you been like this? I mean, a construct?”
“I was not aware that I was, Baroness. This is quite a surprise to me.” Pool sat for a moment in thought. “I experienced hunger and other bodily requirements while on the island, if that helps, but then, at this moment I don’t feel pain from the injury, nor do I appear to be shedding blood.”
Luc continued to look closely, annoying Pool.
Thoughts swirled in Etelka’s mind. What if we are all like this? Contructs? Or, projections of some other kind? Shadows on the cave wall, lit by unseen torches?
“Mr Maron,” she asked, “What is your take on this?”
“My understanding, from the little and sparse history allowed to people of my time, my generation, even of my standing and …comfortable existence, is that this kind of [AI] was prohibited a long time ago, after the Wars of the …from this reckoning…the 20th century. Sure we have believable anthromorphs in the 23rd century, but they are supposedly only marionettes, acting on the commands of a human somewhere. Though, critically, if the [AIs] were capable of going to war with humans three hundreds years ago, then I’m absolutely positive that they still exist and I cannot imagine how advanced they would be if now…then…if the progress continued from this stage…” Luc flicked his eyes to point toward Pool, who watched and listened intently. “They may exist then and likewise not even know it.”
“Who know, Mr Maron, you may be one of us as well.” Said Pool, looking at Luc with an uncharacteristic smirk, letting out years of pent up jealousy and feelings of inadequacy (or so he believed…or thought he believed), as if Luc may have just been laid out better in the narrative of life. It was no fault of his.
Seemingly in response to Pool’s quip, Luc answered, “Mr Pool,” unintentinally imitating Pool’s 19th century formality, “As an old acquaintance in Tesifon [stand in for the decadence and intrigue of drc?? “Pained Dade, a red-haired pirate who was more lucky than anything else” lol] once said, ‘If you can’t tell, it doesn’t matter.'”
Etelka looked down into space, thinking about that. “As Mr Maron says, if we can’t tell it doesn’t matter. If you are not the same Constable Pool who has been my friend for half a decade, that is a matter for serious investigation, however, if you were always like this, I know in my heart I can trust you from the evidence of my experience with you.”
“If you are not the same Pool, but a simulacrum or doppelganger, then that is also certainly a matter for investigation as well, but in the meantime,” she shot Luc an authoritative glance, “we will treat you as we would our beloved Mr Pool, regardless, until proven wrong.”
“Nila,” Luc leaned close to Nila’s expressionless face—she was in shock. “I’ll be right back, my friend.” He whispered to her.
Somewhere beneath her fugue, she could feel Luc’s hair caress her face. Her head turned slightly.
“Keep that bandage tight,” he said to Etelka, but meant it for Pool.
Ion Fyr 