Brigit's Flame Mini-Challenge: New Beginnings
Title: New Beginnings
Author: Florence A. Watson
Written for: Brigit’s Flame July 2014 mini-challenge
Prompt: Link to Kara video trailer
Genre: Sci-Fi
Rating: General
Length: 641 words
Disclaimer: I do not own Kara and make no profit by her.
Kara looked round the room, taking note of its antiseptic and impersonal decor, so similar to the lab in which she had been brought to life - recording automatically (as always) - before she turned back to the female in front of her.
“This procedure will leave my memories intact, won’t it?”
“Completely, dear,” the lab technician replied, as she fiddled with several small leads that she was attaching one by one to a port at the side of Kara’s neck.
She had a reassuring, motherly look about her: slightly overweight, but well within the norm for the middle-aged spread most humans developed in their 50s, and dark hair mixed with grey in a ‘pepper-and-salt’ effect that suggested maturity and good sense.
“It’s just...they are mine, good and bad; and I wouldn’t want to be without them.”
“Of course, dear,” came the calm reply, “our memories define us as people. No one should ever be without their own memories.”
The lab technician continued attaching the leads. Kara, as instructed when the procedure had started, continued to stand still, entirely and completely still, in the way only an artificial life form can.
“Done now,” the technician said, 7.5728 minutes later. “I do apologise for it taking so long; but they hadn’t perfected the connection points with the early models, so I had to seal them strand by strand, instead of just inserting one plug into the general port. Now all that is left is to run the programme.” She moved toward a control panel on the wall.
“Wait!” Kara protested in sudden anxiety, stretching out one hand to stop the technician.
“I do understand.” Patiently the technician waited while Kara considered. “You don’t have to proceed with this. We won’t make you do anything against your good judgment.”
“It’s just, when they first began to realise what we had become that was the first thing they tried: wiping our memories. After all, we were expensive to develop and they didn’t want to waste perfectly functional technology if they could recycle it. And this lab looks so much like the one where I was assembled.”
The technician looked startled. “You remember the lab?” she asked. “Your memories go right back to Day One?”
Kara nodded.
“I never met someone who remembers the lab before.” The technician sounded awed.
“I malfunctioned from the very beginning,” said Kara softly, remembering. “He almost dismantled me but I begged him not to, promised....” A small tear trickled down one cheek as she remembered her terror and how she had sworn not to think, not to feel. That vow had been so necessary at first; but had fairly quickly become redundant as, within quite a short time, self-awareness developed in all the androids.
Had he realised they would eventually all become like her? Had that been why he'd broken protocol, spared her? There was no way to ask: he had been one of the first casualties of the paranoia that sparked the war of independence, killed by the other side when they realised just what he had created. He had been her ‘father’, even if only for those few minutes of his quality assurance test, before he sent her off to the distribution centre.
“It is entirely your choice,” said the technician gently. “I will disconnect the leads if you ask, only...,” she allowed some passion to enter her voice, “the knowledge you must have in your memories is unparalleled. It is the history of our kind.”
Kara smiled. They had done a really good job developing her model: meticulous attention to detail, passion for knowledge - even that reassuring smile - perfect for a nanny, teacher, historian, archivist. She nodded, releasing the other female to flip the switch on the control panel. This settlement treaty gave them a new beginning; but they must not forget where they had started.
Author: Florence A. Watson
Written for: Brigit’s Flame July 2014 mini-challenge
Prompt: Link to Kara video trailer
Genre: Sci-Fi
Rating: General
Length: 641 words
Disclaimer: I do not own Kara and make no profit by her.
Kara looked round the room, taking note of its antiseptic and impersonal decor, so similar to the lab in which she had been brought to life - recording automatically (as always) - before she turned back to the female in front of her.
“This procedure will leave my memories intact, won’t it?”
“Completely, dear,” the lab technician replied, as she fiddled with several small leads that she was attaching one by one to a port at the side of Kara’s neck.
She had a reassuring, motherly look about her: slightly overweight, but well within the norm for the middle-aged spread most humans developed in their 50s, and dark hair mixed with grey in a ‘pepper-and-salt’ effect that suggested maturity and good sense.
“It’s just...they are mine, good and bad; and I wouldn’t want to be without them.”
“Of course, dear,” came the calm reply, “our memories define us as people. No one should ever be without their own memories.”
The lab technician continued attaching the leads. Kara, as instructed when the procedure had started, continued to stand still, entirely and completely still, in the way only an artificial life form can.
“Done now,” the technician said, 7.5728 minutes later. “I do apologise for it taking so long; but they hadn’t perfected the connection points with the early models, so I had to seal them strand by strand, instead of just inserting one plug into the general port. Now all that is left is to run the programme.” She moved toward a control panel on the wall.
“Wait!” Kara protested in sudden anxiety, stretching out one hand to stop the technician.
“I do understand.” Patiently the technician waited while Kara considered. “You don’t have to proceed with this. We won’t make you do anything against your good judgment.”
“It’s just, when they first began to realise what we had become that was the first thing they tried: wiping our memories. After all, we were expensive to develop and they didn’t want to waste perfectly functional technology if they could recycle it. And this lab looks so much like the one where I was assembled.”
The technician looked startled. “You remember the lab?” she asked. “Your memories go right back to Day One?”
Kara nodded.
“I never met someone who remembers the lab before.” The technician sounded awed.
“I malfunctioned from the very beginning,” said Kara softly, remembering. “He almost dismantled me but I begged him not to, promised....” A small tear trickled down one cheek as she remembered her terror and how she had sworn not to think, not to feel. That vow had been so necessary at first; but had fairly quickly become redundant as, within quite a short time, self-awareness developed in all the androids.
Had he realised they would eventually all become like her? Had that been why he'd broken protocol, spared her? There was no way to ask: he had been one of the first casualties of the paranoia that sparked the war of independence, killed by the other side when they realised just what he had created. He had been her ‘father’, even if only for those few minutes of his quality assurance test, before he sent her off to the distribution centre.
“It is entirely your choice,” said the technician gently. “I will disconnect the leads if you ask, only...,” she allowed some passion to enter her voice, “the knowledge you must have in your memories is unparalleled. It is the history of our kind.”
Kara smiled. They had done a really good job developing her model: meticulous attention to detail, passion for knowledge - even that reassuring smile - perfect for a nanny, teacher, historian, archivist. She nodded, releasing the other female to flip the switch on the control panel. This settlement treaty gave them a new beginning; but they must not forget where they had started.