Futuristic get these sick nasty cyberpunk chips

[saturday shorts]

The sign on copper plating beside the dark-glass doorway looked out of place beside the rest of the moderately slick unit. It had once read 'Dr Mallory Stone : Android repair' in clean letters. The Dr looked to have been scratched at haphazardly, and the screw on the bottom left corner was missing. The idea that it had once been buffed and shining was hidden underneath various levels of grime and pollution. On the right of the door was a larger window, inviting people to look in. There was a workshop inside. Nobody was to be seen, but tools and parts were left on the bench, a leg just out of sight and on a stand, a hand partially taken apart. Passerby took curious glances inwards before continuing on, along the pathways and bridges that hung over precarious depths.

From deeper inside, where the workshop turned into a home, an alarm beeped insistently, a shrill tone in the otherwise silent house. Mallory grunted, and with what seemed like great effort raised his arm and slapped at his phone, balanced on his bedside dresser. It shut off obligingly, and silence relished, stretching out across the room once more. Mallory laid still there for a moment, face shoved into his pillows, before pushing himself up. He took a few deep breaths of sweet vanilla air, before pushing himself fully out of bed.

The bathroom lights buzzed to life as Mallory entered, illuminating around the large mirror that dominated the space. He stared dubiously into his reflection as he always did, taking in sleep-puffy eyes and the beginnings of what could be stubble. His darker roots were visible underneath his bleached silver hair, and he squinted, parting it with sleep-fuzzy fingers. He'd have to get it redone. His eyes were a muddy sort of brown, that gained a blue sheen as everyones did with cybernetic contacts.

"First things first then." He grumbled, reaching for the blue and red case. What followed was an inordinately long amount of time spent putting in contacts for one who had been doing it for many years. He had to blink rapidly as his eyes adjusted, rolling them around in his sockets as they calibrated slowly. His vision sharpened into focus, and in front of him, a list of responsibilities for the day flickered into life. He took one glance, grimaced, and dismissed it with a swipe of his hand. The rest of the routine - brushing his hair into a modicum of presentability, shaving what little stubble he had, and splashing water over his face - went by fairly quickly.

It wasn't until Mallory was halfway through a bowl of cereal that he reopened his notification list. It was mostly the standard crap, can you repair my androids knee, why isn't she connecting to the wifi, all of the requests that people usually sent on the daily basis, along with a few stray 'can you give my android some genitals' questions which he deleted almost immediately. They could either go to a certified android provider or a shady lowercity tradepost for that. He did have a set appointment for the day, which was in an hours time, long enough for him to get some work done in the workshop before leaving. It was for Owen Gray, and his android Helix. He'd been visiting them steadily for a while now, due to Helix having a chronic problem with his elbow and knee joints. They were too shallow, and didn't fit right, leading to more friction than usual and therefore an increased need for oiling and taking apart. Mallory rather liked Helix, and very heavily disliked Owen, who was just the type of person that Mallory had worked with in his previous job. Rich, and able to do anything because of it.

He got changed into his formal work wear in preparation. Usually, he'd just wear jeans and a t shirt and call it done, but with his higher end clients...they tended to want him to look the part of their pristine clean cut world. It was a mold that was all too easy to fill with his sort of background. So, slacks it was, with a tan button up. Mallory pulled up a temperature chart on the surface of his closet by tapping gently at the sun icon. He considered for a second and then pulled out a coat. It looked like it was going to err on the side of chilly.

Walking out into the public part of his workshop, he turned a button, brightening the window and letting in more sunlight. He tended to keep it on dim mode because of more temperature sensitive gadgets that he sometimes left out. Stifling a yawn, he made a beeline towards the hand sitting at his desk. There was something wrong with the joints of the third and fourth finger, and while he'd sent the poor android off with a temporary attachment, this type of work was delicate and he didn't want it to take any longer than it had to. Mallory fell into the rhythm of it quickly, carefully deconstructing it, running diagnostics, searching for parts, for duplicates. Ambient music filtered through the workspace, helping his mind focus and not wander.

The alert flashing green in his vision was the only thing that could've snapped him out of it. Blinking, he stood and cracked his back, rolled his neck. The ensuing crackle of bone was only slightly worrying "Ah fuck, I've got to improve my posture." It was a something he'd said many times and never actually worked on.

Mallory swung his coat over his shoulders and grabbed his travel kit from underneath his desk. It had everything he would need for Helix's repair, and more, just in case something else had come up. He did a quick inventory, before hastily exiting.

Mallory didn't like walking along the rickety pathways. It was possibly the only thing he missed about the uppercity. The stability of it all, the harsh metal that never groaned in cold winters and never succumbed to bending and warping like the bridges sometimes did in the midcity. Scanning his card, he hopped on to the airbus which would take him up the levels almost directly to Gray's house. There weren't many people inside it. Not many people had any business going between levels. There were some androids standing beside distant humans, a few plugged in to the convenient mini chargers, a few clearly using the waiting time to do updates or clean out their systems. Mallory himself just closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the window, feeling the vibrations as the airbus dragged them up.

Walking through the uppercity didn't make Mallory feel out of place, or lesser. That was how some of the lower levels seemed to think, but Mallory felt lucky, watching all of the half dead people drag themselves to their government jobs, or alternatively watching the far too perky people that very clearly didn't have any need for jobs. Disgust settled low in his stomach and he hurried on, a bitter tang in his mouth.

Owen's house was one of the more pretentious ones. It had a wrought iron fence, and a garden for no reason but to take up space. It was another fist clenching detail, that those who lived up here could afford a sprawling garden, a house with more rooms than people, while the people below suffered in crowded spaces and the idea of air that didn't clog your lungs. A white marble staircase lead up to his door, which was the height of darkglass technology. It had all of the fancy security features to boot. Mallory pressed his hand against it, and the door scanned his handprint, blue flashing around his fingers before announcing somewhere into the house that 'Dr Mallory Stone' had arrived.

elytra

 

[elytra]

There was a difference between 'thinking' and 'processing'.

Processing was simpler, in a way. Information was taken, computed, and then used to complete a command. There was no leeway with processing; the action requested was taken and acted upon as instructed. Thinking was different, because thinking meant taking information, computing it, and then making choices with it. Any action requested could be considered rather than just done, and a new, better course of action could be decided upon. Processing was doing as asked, thinking was choosing the best way to do something. Thinking was acting with a bias which was created through the process of thinking many times before that point.

Androids, of course, didn't think. Only living things like humans could think and make choices, and since they had created androids to not think, they couldn't. Instead, they processed commands, like 'wash this' and 'cook that' and 'do this in this exact way'. Androids followed commands to the letter, even if the commands weren't well thought out and were worse than other options. That's what they were made for, after all. They were code and metal, and taking this into consideration, they couldn't really progress past what they were. Humans grew and changed. Androids remained stagnant.

That was the theory, at least. One that seemed to be proved wrong, if the current situation was anything to go by in the eyes of Helix's owner, Owen Gray.

To be clear, Helix wasn't a deviant. He wasn't. What he was was a state-of-the-art caretaker android, one fashioned to be able to tend to house needs as well as needs of a family or a particular person. Faulty joints aside, he was good at what he did. He cleaned the house, he cooked, he did repairs, he fetched things. He did everything he was supposed to. He wasn't a deviant, because if he was, he would be like the ones on TV, that killed the people they worked for, because deviancy wasn't a good thing.

But he'd made a suggestion. He hadn't followed an order right away. He'd considered it, and that? That was not a very android thing to do.

Mr. Gray had seen it as rebellion, even though Helix had just been telling him that the use of vinegar would be a cleaner, less chemical-filled solution to wiping the floors rather than bleach. He'd been shut down within minutes of the interaction, and when he'd been turned back on, it was days later and he was almost positive he knew what was happening, especially when he saw Mr. Gray pacing back and forth, only looking up when the arrival of the doctor was announced.

"Stay put." The human said, a command, and Helix wasn't a deviant, so he would listen. Maybe, if he were a deviant, he wouldn't like it. Maybe he would protest. But he wasn't deviant, so 'not liking it' wasn't possible. Mr. Gray, meanwhile, made his way to the front, straightening his tie as he went. He put on his best smile, then opened the door, ushering the mechanic inside.

"Doctor! Lovely to see you." He said, false cheer evident in his voice, before he lowered it "I'll be heading to my study, but today isn't a checkup. Actually, if you will, just tear the damn thing apart; it questioned me the other day, so I don't want it in my house any longer. That said, I do want the chip. It's hard to get the settings back to what I want on a newer model." He paused, only momentarily, to make sure the doctor had heard what he said, before clapping him on the back in a manner that was surely supposed to seem friendly, but just came off as condescending. "I'll be doing work. Don't bother me unless its important, thank you." With that, he walked off, supposedly to do work, assuming that what he'd ask for would get done.

 

[saturday shorts]

Mallory would love it if he could say that being asked to take Helix apart was a surprising and horrifying question. But it wasn't. At this point, it was quite commonplace, with newer models being made and those in power obviously wanting to stay a step ahead of their peers. He assumed that they thought of it as buying a new car, or a nice suit. Not as it really was. Destroying a person just to replace it with another. The point that it was cruel was a baseline descriptor for the act and Mallory had to stop himself from scowling at Gray's retreating back.

He took a few breaths to center himself before walking forward to Helix. He knew that the android had probably heard that conversation, what with his state of the art audio processors, but he elected to move past it. He'd been having conversations about deviancy with Helix of course, but it was too soon far too soon to suggest the final step. Instead, he waved his hand to a chair and asked gently, "Helix would you mind sitting in that chair for me?" It was their usual routine. This would all be their usual routine.

The android sat (obediently) and Mallory knelt in front of him. He reached out automatically before hesitating. "Would it be alright for me to remove your casing?" The casing being the skin-like veneer that covered the body of the android, underneath which were all of the parts. Helix nodded, and he pressed against the panelling of his skull. A square outline shone blue before clicking open, white chrome rippling out as all physical details of Helix's body disappeared.

"I'm going to do an audio-visual check just before moving onto your joints." Mallory's tone was firm, but his lips quirked up slightly. He could practically hear Helix's processor whirring as to why he'd need a checkup if he was going to be dismantled.

The process of the check was fairly simple, and his hands could do it from muscle memory alone. He'd unpacked his kit on the table beside them, and he leaned forward, releasing the panel surrounding Helix's eyes and peering into the mechanics. "Nothings been bothering you behind here has it? No dust buildup and whatnot. You were designed to be low maintenance so everythings very protected but you really never know..." It was a complex little mechanism, and Mallory watched his pupil cycle through different stages of dilation before nodding, satisfied.

Looking into the audio receptors was the more horrifying part by far. He thought wistfully to his zero-grav desk where he'd prefer to be, the gears all floating in place as he separated them piece by piece. Instead, in a house call he could only do the most cosmetic of work, recalibrating any small software errors, making sure they were running clear, that nothing was close to blowing out.

"Sorry I've just got to-" Mallory uncovered a port beside Helix's ear and plugged in his tablet. It was always weird, just plugging in but it was the most convenient way to check for any software errors. He scanned the file over once, making minute adjustments to the audio levelling, the different settings and running....well the equivalent of a fancy troubleshooter.

Finally it was time for the limb readjustments and Mallory held out one hand, palm up, waiting for Helix to place his arm in his hand. Dismantling it required knowledge of where all of the parts fit together if you were to avoid breaking all of the delicate joints inside. Of course Mallory had heard and seen the terrible actions of people that ripped limbs off for their parts without any care for what that would do to the android itself. He hesistated before speaking, hands working away at the now exposed joint. "You heard Gray's instructions to me when I walked in."

It was a statement, not a question, and Mallory let it hang in the air as he moved on between Helix's limbs, detaching, sanding, oiling, reattaching. He looked up while pushing his left leg back into place, eyes intent and searching Helix's own. They would seem blank and lifeless to some but Mallory knew, he just knew there was a spark there, something that had to be cherished. "Do you want to be taken apart Helix?" His voice was soft and as much as he wished to be gentle, all that came was urgency. "Do you want to live?"