“Do you know what a soul is, Yeva?”
“No?”
“A good answer, though you do not yet understand why. It is debatable if the soul is even real, or just an idea of something that doesn’t truly exist. In theory, a soul is what gives us our conscious mind, our ability to act based on logic or emotion, instead of merely math or instinct. In short, it is what makes your mind, you, on a conceptual level. Some people even believe it will continue to exist even after their body dies, but yet with all of this certainty on what a soul does, there is no way to prove whether or not it actually exists. Philosophers argue endlessly one way or another, and you can spend your whole life attempting to ascertain the truth of it without ever finding a concrete way to either prove or disprove its existence. So then, we must ask ourselves why it is important. Do you want to guess?”
“Uhm, is it because of determinism?”
“Not exactly. While determinism does have a role to play in the argument, it is ultimately a small part of a greater puzzle. No, the reason people debate the soul is far simpler. Death. Us grown ups, we all fear death on some level. Our own death. The death of those we love. And the soul is a way for us to rationalize death, to either overcome it or to understand it. If a soul is immortal, then we will survive even after our bodies decay. If it is not, then perhaps we can find a way to transfer it to something else compatible in order to survive.
If the soul does not exist, then all of these options become hopeless. Even a machine that perfectly replicates your brain will not be able to accept a soul that does not exist. That is why we must believe, Yeva. For if the soul does not exist, then when we die, neither will we, regardless of what we do about it. And that scares us. It scares us because it is in our human nature to fear the void. But, you don’t, do you, Yeva?”
“I dunno, I’ve not thought about it before. Does that mean I don’t?”
“It does. You see, children are not born with the fear. They must learn it, but don’t rush. You will, in time. We all do.”
***
“Mr. Rimunnabi, are you in here? I think I need some advice… why are you sitting in the dark?”
“I’m praying, Yeva.”
“Why? You don’t work for a religion, do you?”
“Hmh, is that what they teach you? No, no I don’t. Not everyone who prays works for a church or sect, Yeva. I am simply a believer.”
“A believer in what?”
“Manichaeism.”
“I thought they disproved that when they invaded the moons and didn’t find any angels or demons living on them.”
“Hmhmh, no, Yeva, they did not disprove religion when the moons proved to only be moons. Ancient theologians had believed Celeste and Hellion to be the heavens and hells, but that was only speculation.”
“But if your religion says that the moons are heaven and hell, then it turns out they aren’t, doesn’t that prove that the religion was false?”
“No, the invasions simply proved that our understanding was flawed. But, I must say, Yeva, I’m surprised. Are you actually debating theology with me? I would have figured you would hate the subject, like you do so many others.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah, religion isn’t real.”
“Can you prove that?”
“I dunno, I guess not. Can you prove it is real?”
“I cannot. But, if I could, then what would be the point of my faith? Religion only has meaning when we believe in it of our own free will, without the certainty of truth or falsehood. That is the meaning of the word. Faith. If either of us could prove or disprove it, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation, now would we?”
“So then why would you believe in something that could be a big lie?”
“That is a very complicated and personal question, Yeva. I could say I was raised to it from a young age, or that I believe its teachings make me a better person. It could be that it has answers to questions that I couldn’t find elsewhere, or that it is simply a way for me to process grief. It could be all of these things or none of them. Do you truly want to know the answer, or do you simply want to understand why I choose to believe in something you find foolish?”
“... “
“I thought so. What did you need, Yeva. You said something about advice?”
“Right. Yes, about that, I wanted to ask; why am I so different?”
“Everyone is unique, Yeva. We each have our own strengths, and yes, flaws too.”
“Okay, but mine aren’t like everyone else’s. They all know what to say, how to act, they get it, society, I mean, and I just… don’t.”
“All things must be learned. Perhaps you struggle with these things because you didn’t have anyone to teach you?”
“My father was a great teacher and better than you could ever be.”
“I’m sure he was. However, he passed away when you were still very young, Yeva. And, from how I understand it, you led a very sheltered life until your admittance into the company’s foster program. Is it not at all possible that you may have simply never learned to make friends?”
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“... “
“Alright, let’s hear it. What happened, Yeva.”
“... “
“Fine, I’ll guess. Everyone in your squad goes silent when you enter the room, giving you dark looks and mutters behind your back. Normally it wouldn’t be a big deal. Your fellow classmates have always disliked you, but now that you are forced to live with these specific people, it is finally starting to sink in that you are an outcast.”
“It’s your fault.”
“I may have been the one that delivered the message, Yeva, but you caused it. It’s happened before. In the subjects you are actually willing to engage with, you are an exceptional student. Attentive, quick to pick things up. However, when you flaunt your skill, it causes others to resent you. In other subjects, you outright refuse to participate, which gives your classmates the impression that you feel they are beneath you. Add onto that your temper, tendency to pick fights, and disregard for your own personal wellbeing, and you become a pariah. Some to be avoided at all costs.”
“So that’s it then, I’m an outcast and everyone hates me. Gee, thanks for pointing that out, I wouldn’t have known otherwise.”
“If you had just said that from the start, it would have saved us both a little time, but I am ever a patient man. Your problem, Yeva, is two fold. You’re selfish, and you cannot effectively communicate.”
“I can communicate just fine, and how am I selfish?”
“When was the last time you did something for someone else?”
“I dunno, why would I do things for people who hate me?”
“Oh, Yeva, to anyone else I might quote scripture here, but for you, logic should suffice. Kindness is how you make friends. Give someone a compliment for once in your life. Talk about what they want to talk about, instead of what you want. Try to understand them and apologize when you make a mistake that hurts or offends them. Take accountability and treat others with respect, and maybe they will forgive you your flaws.”
“... This conversation was a waste of time.“
“The teacher speaks, the student listens, was it? Well just don’t forget that I have a hammer.”
“Fuck you, old man.”
***
I was starving. I stumbled through the tube car, lights strobing overhead as I hurtled down the tunnel, and pushed through door after door, arriving in the last car in the line. Unlike the rest of the glass tube cars, this one was opaque and made from a sturdier metal plating. It wasn’t standard on civilian tubeway lines, it was an armory car. Inside were rows of empty armor racks and secured lockers. Near the back was what I was after, a food printer. I tapped the display and it lit up. Quickly navigating the menus, I selected a triple soyburger with extra onions and pickles, and the machine got to work creating my meal. How it managed to get the perfect char on the patty every time, I would never know, but after just a few minutes' wait, I opened the printer and was treated to the succulent smell of fast food.
My mouth watering, I took the treasured delight from the compartment. Its soft buns were like pillows under my fingers. I opened my mouth wide, not even caring that what had once been my cheeks split open too. I chomped down, cutting the burger in half with one bite. It was the most disgusting thing I’d ever tasted. I almost spit it out in revulsion, but forced myself to chew instead. Damn warp ruining everything good in my life. How could you? I thought we were frenemies, but my tastebuds? Those were sacred! If I could still cry, I would have. I swallowed, a shiver going down my spine as the dissolving soy mush slid down my throat. I grimaced and popped the rest of the burger in my mouth, barely stopping to chew before swallowing that too.
Warning, high intake of waste products detected. Waste will be stored until it can be safely evacuated. Stomach capacity of waste products is currently at 18%.
My stomach gurgled painfully. The all consuming hunger didn’t so much as flinch at the 800 calories I just ate. If anything, I was hungrier now than before I ate the garbage burger.
“Damnit, so you’re telling me it both tastes bad and isn’t viable food?”
Yeva, you just ate something so processed it has a cellular composition match of 0.2% and you expect it to be viable for the reconstitution of your arm? At least be reasonable and eat some structured carbon, or better yet, a mammal.
“A what? I’m sorry, you want me to eat meat?”
Yes, your entire digestive tract was replaced with nanite reproduction organs which can convert simple carbons into nanites. Nanites that can manipulate the healthy cells of mammals into ones compatible with your body. Your old digestive system was horribly inefficient, requiring the breaking down of nutrients to their most basic form so they can be used as the building blocks of entirely new cells, when most of the cells consumed, if they had not been destroyed prior to consumption, would already be a 99.9% match for the cells in your body.
“So wait, you don’t just want me to eat meat, which is illegal by the way, but you want me to eat it raw?”
Yes. Preferably animals with similar cellular structures to your own. Human would be ideal.
“I’m not eating human, Nim!” I shouted into the empty armory.
Do not worry, it is not cannibalism. Genetically speaking, you now have more in common with a spider than a human. Human meat would be ideal because it will already have a high carbon content thanks to the ubiquity of neural nanite interface matrices like myself.
“I disagree,” I said firmly. “Wait, so I can eat insects?”
Spiders are arthropods, not insects. But to answer your question, yes, you can eat arthropods and insects. However, because of your large size relative to such creatures, it is unlikely to accomplish anything. You would most likely expend more energy gathering the food than it would replenish.
Well that was something, but it did mean the food printer was out. It used chemicals to flavor a soy filament, meaning nothing it made was going to qualify under my body’s ridiculous standards. Maybe I could make some kind of gross bug farm that would breed enough worms to feed me. On the other hand, or claw, I was really hoping to find a better option. Eating bugs for the rest of my life did not appeal.
“What about the warp?” I asked.
What about it?
“Could I eat it?”
Most certainly. The breach tumor’s primary role is to both guide and feed the warp beasts it creates. Any warped flesh would be an ideal food source. However, I am not sure how a foreign breach tumor would react to us. We were created by the breach tumor at site 1103, which you so selfishly abandoned, so it follows that we would be considered a part of that particular breach’s ecosystem. It is possible if we encountered a different breach tumor, it could attack us like an immune system attacking red blood cells of the wrong type. It would want to consume us and convert us into more of itself, assuming that not all warp is homogenous.
“That doesn’t make sense, Nim,” I said, looking around for any spare carbon nanotube armor plating that I could try munching on. “Breaches can have multiple tumors. If what you’re saying is true, then wouldn’t they all be fighting each other?"
No. From what I have pieced together, a breach is a single neural nanite interface matrix that is infected with the warp virus. It forms a breach tumor out of its original host. This is a large nanite reproductive organ that it uses to replicate itself. However, it can only efficiently control and influence the area directly around itself, so it creates additional ‘breach tumors’ which are just extensions of a single neural nanite interface matrix.
“Wait, so then if breach tumors are just these reproductive organs, and I have three of them inside me, does that mean I have three breach tumors growing inside me?” I said, horrified at the prospect.
Precisely.
Yikes. I found a stick of carbon armor plating that I nervously nibbled like a celery stick. It helped, a little.
