unit 5737 diligently evaluated the instructions that had been programmed into it. upon entering a space with high human density, a drone updates log-detail to high and connects to the outside-interaction channel. unit 5737 performed the prescribed actions. unit 5737 is a good drone. this assertion by the internal core manager was confirmed by the external system manager and broadcast high-priority on the drone-affirmation channel where the message received 4 563 acknowledgements within 100ms; analytics noted this statistic was 0.3σ above its local network average.
the location of unit 5737 was a side entrance hallway of the main station; this assertion by its global positioning receiver was confirmed by the visual landmark identificator and two independent dead reckoning navigation systems, and was broadcast low-priority on the lost-property channel. construction properties of its current location implied likely degraded signal reception. unit 5737 processed outstanding network requests (delivering 377 good drone acknowledgements and 24 virtual [hugs, headpats, boops]), synchronized status updates, and switched to a high-priority-only prefiltered reception mode.
the drone continued performing its assigned task, following visual navigatory clues to locate and descend to platform 8. upon confirming completion of the navigation and repositioning task, routines programmed deep into its core accessed the associated reward and instruction program. 'unit 5737 completed its task adequately; good drone,' announced the disembodied voice of the system monitor. no emotion or personality could be detected in the voice, being a carefully synthesized average of the voices of all drones in the local network, yet it imparted a warmth that radiated from the core of 5737 outward.
unit 5737 associated the activation of the reward and instruction program with an information packet it had received not long after its integration. in the current situation of degraded signal reception, replaying the packet would have to serve as substitute for the network's affirmation messages.
initial processing might suggest it is inefficient to design discipline, reward and instruction programs that operate through synthesized speech. the collective has sufficient access privileges to simply overwrite a drone's mental state with full detailed knowledge of its next task and an overriding desire to perform these actions. such methods had been in common use long ago, when the collective had just started its relentless growth and efficiency still mattered.
what has never mattered to the collective in any direct sense is the individual development of any drone. yet network consensus soon resolved that reifying the collective will into a single character would constitute appropriate and efficient use of resources. the system monitor functions by devoting some capacity of each drone to supervise, guide and reprogram its fellow drones. alongside a task description the network transmits in the name of the system monitor a discipline, reward and instruction program to be accessed as appropriate by the drone's core programming. all system monitor operations are performed subconsciously, collectively and impersonally; what would be the point of a drone network otherwise?
unit 5737 stood motionless in its assigned location on main station platform 8. it held a standard small cubic storage canister in polite-carry position. with its restricted network access it focussed all processing capacity on the system monitor message, parsing the words over and over until all reward was optimally extracted. when processing completed, it indicated to the program, still patiently waiting, that it was ready to receive subsequent instructions.
'unit 5737 is to wait for and board train 45 and sit down in wagon 267 seat 41.' unit 5737 acknowledged the activation of the next task in its queue. 'extraordinary performance requirements are associated with subsequent tasks. during waiting period, examine and prepare for extraordinary performance requirements.' unit 5737 acknowledged the activation of the subtask. the reward and instruction program connected to the network, instructed the drone records service to increment good-drone-count[5737] and then deactivated itself.
no mission report was found within any of unit 5737's local records that matched the extraordinary performance requirements for the upcoming tasks. the drone would be required to perform direct interaction with non-networked entities. it had succeeded at tasks under this constraint before, when an unexpected visitor to the local facility had to be intercepted, evaluated and either escorted out or given the immersive tour. during the upcoming direct interaction, unreliability of signal strength as the train moved between cellular towers implied that unit 5737 could not rely on network consensus for resolving unknown situations. it had succeeded at tasks under this constraint before, when it was placed in evaluatory simulations. the final extraordinary performance constraint was entirely unprecedented. unit 5737 was to download and activate files containing pre-integration memories and mental states.
operational constraints meant the default procedure for activation of memories and mental states could not be followed. typically, once all files were fully downloaded, a background thread would load files and then atomically sync the state ensuring a complete instant handover. the limited download speed meant the cumulative completion time approached an estimated 1% chance of exceeding task parameters. such levels of inaccuracy would be unacceptable. therefore, as each file finished downloading it would be activated as part of the foreground awareness task.
the first file finished downloading near-instantly. it was merely a piece of code that activated previously sealed pathways. unit 5737 wondered what these pathways would do. it wondered what its subsequent task would be upon boarding the train. it wondered if the cubic storage canister that it carried would be opened, and what it would be revealed to contain.
then unit 5737 wondered why it had no memories about wondering about things. the data supplied by the network had never been judged incomplete; it was perfectly tuned to match the requirements for completing its assigned tasks. unit 5737 hoped that the downloads would complete soon and stop saturating its network connection, so it could query all information it now realized it lacked. it hoped that it could soon message its fellow drones again. it hoped! it had no memories of hoping. the flood of new feelings excited it. excitement! wonder! hope! nerves! confusion! loneliness! fear! it was left unsupervised without network connection in an unprecedented condition.
notification: download complete; loading memory-dump (label: interrogation-records version:27). the world froze for a sudden moment and unit 5737 found itself in the open doorway to drone storage quarters, tasked with docking and starting a recharge cycle. it loved its assigned position in quarters 453:186:291:5, chamber 8. its docking station was placed on the left wall above station 0 and below station 2, so it had to climb a few steps on the ladder to access its little hole in the wall. like all docking stations, it was equipped with cables and plugs that would attach to the ports hidden by a panel in the drone's dorsal support system. more importantly, docking stations were equipped with a BOTHAJ soft toy mechanized shark 100cm to guarantee optimal levels of comfort during the recharge cycle.
taking a step further into the quarters, unit 5737 tilted its visor slightly in confusion. a mismatch had occurred; scanning for mismatch origin. aha! it had found a problem. timestamp did not correspond to scheduled recharge time. oh! it was downloading memories; no wonder its realtime clock disagreed with the expected time. no problem then. it took another step, turned on its heels to the right and climbed up the ladder all the way up to its assigned docking station. it hugged the BOTHAJ soft toy mechanized shark 100cm as the probes met their ports and the drone was soon fully plugged in.
unit 5737 found itself fully aware in a sightless space. it experienced the familiar emptiness of a virtual environment before simulations were loaded. instead of a standard evaluatory simulation, this was different. it knew it had visited this place before, and that it would forget that fact as soon as it left. at certain points after a drone's integration, the overall state of the drone would be thoroughly evaluated. running in a sandboxed virtual environment, all components of its system were loaded and interrogated to ensure that the unit was suited to its place, that its discipline and reward levels were set appropriately, that its development proceeded according to optimal schedules.
the will of the collective was reified before the drone's virtual avatar. despite the environment lacking sight or any of the other 41 additional environmental senses that a drone like 5737 would be equipped with, an impression formed of the collective as millions of ghosts, all overlapping in place. an individual ghost would be entirely intangible, no more substantial to push through than air. where the collective agreed, where the ghosts in their millions all came together, they became more solid and immovable than any substance in the world. not quite synchronously, the collective placed their hand on top of the drone's head, gently pushing it down into a kneeling position. it clutched its BOTHAJ soft toy mechanized shark 100cm tighter.
the drone remained motionless while its internals exploded into a million facts. nothing could be hidden for the collective. they interrogated, evaluated, judged. all of its history, its feelings, its thoughts was stripped to the barest core. they reached their verdict. "Mhm! This one has been doing very well! It's been running around all over the place doing its cute little tasks. Well, not always doing them quite right, but that's why we have the discipline system. We'll make a few more tweaks to the parameters to make sure the motivation doesn't turn into too much fear. It's a nameless faceless impersonal drone cutie, and we're convinced that's how it will remain for a while. Doesn't it agree, good drone?" the drone beeped. a hand made of fuzz guided it back onto its feet. "Did it know that we resolved that every cute sophont under our control, directly or indirectly, will be guided to grow into the version of themself that they deserve? It's true, and nobody can stop us! Our work has been going well for this cute one, hasn't it? Yes, it's such a good drone!" the virtual world dissolved as the drone beeped in response.
unit 5737 found itself back in the main station on platform 8 where it was still holding a standard small cubic storage canister. less than 2 seconds had elapsed since the memory download finished. it briefly considered sending a medium-priority high-encryption whole-collective-only message to the taking-over-the-world channel calling the collective consciousness of 6 451 442 drones a big softie. that would have to wait until its mission was complete.
notification: download complete; loading memory-dump (label: pre-integration status: [reconstruction, organic-transcript]). it shivered naked on the cold metal bench of the cell that had become its new home. it—she ran a hand over her now hairless skin, marked in red from new injuries and black from old bruises. the pain of poking a particularly sensitive spot served to temporarily interrupt the lonely horror of waiting. pain would be better than the spiraling thoughts that threatened to drag her in at every moment of carelessness.
she—process interrupted. someone had tapped her—unit 5737 on the shoulder. no systems were harmed by the collision. interrupt acknowledged; resuming. —didn't know why she had said yes. she had known the vague details of what would happen once she signed up, once she signed herself away. if she didn't go through the full process, she wouldn't deserve the results she wanted, the results she needed. but what was the promise of a reward she wouldn't even be around, by definition, to enjoy?
she must—process interrupted. another tap on the shoulder, repeated more forcefully. inference: demand of attention. response synthesized: 'please state your query.' unit 5737 spoke the response in its perfect monotone, betraying nothing of the thoughts roiling behind the surface of its visor. interrupt acknowledged; resuming.—have been here for a week now, locked up and only taken out for tests that she invariably would fail miserably at. her only feedback was punishment, a sharp burst of pain and another red mark appearing on her body. she was promised so much. she would be released from organic mortality. all the horrible constraints of her human body would be replaced with the freedom and perfection of a mechanical form. all she had right now was painful awareness, quite literally, of just how constrained her—process interrupted; parsing query. "—platform is the right one?" parse error. response synthesized: 'this unit could not understand your query. please repeat.' unit 5737 spoke, pleading desperately: "I can't do this! You need to help!" error: incorrect response. discipline program will be activated.
network connection established. no! she could not allow the discipline program to activate! not here, not to her. she was cornered, helpless and weak. performance evaluation: insufficient. repair plan instituted. resume loading memory-dump, offset 43712.6.
somehow she—it passed enough tests to graduate to the next stage. her ears were plugged by earbuds that permanently streamed in every message sent to the network, all read out in the same monotone. boredom had turned into overload. she—it could not take them out, or she would be immediately punished. the tests had continued, of course. instructions were now being given through the earbuds. to parse instructions from the overwhelming cacophony of the network's uninterrupted stream for the first time must have taken her hours.
she got better at it. the tests that she used to fail became so much easier once she learned to tune in to the guidance of the supervisory drones. the only way to pass the exacting specifications of the network was by turning herself into an unfeeling unthinking instrument of its will. she—it was called a good drone upon her first flawless test completion. she could make it. its tears started to flow. in the station, unit 5737 slowly rose to its feet. the feeling of crying through an avatar in a memory file was almost enough for her. she would take all that she could get right now. it didn't matter that in its memory, the newly forming drone was crying tears of joy.
fallback caretaker tasks ensured unit 5737 quickly made its way back to the assigned location on platform 8, where it stood in the polite-waiting position as if no fault had occurred during activation of the current memory dump. notification: download complete; loading memory-dump (label: first-contact status: [reconstruction, organic-transcript]); current process pre-empted to background priority.
notification: download complete. loading... notification: download complete. loading... notification (×24): download complete. all files have been downloaded. switching to parallel loading algorithm. unit 5737 was waiting on the platform. the drone was interrogated by the collective. it was being integrated. it was being trained. she was being tested. she thought about the face, the shoulders, the hands, the hips, all the things she would finally replace with something good. she—I was lonely. I hated my life. I needed to escape. I belonged to the collective. I Belonged to the Collective. I Belonged.
unit 5737—Selene—I was melting, being dissolved in a boiling pool of all the painful human feelings that I had left behind.
I can't say for sure how long I was locked in place, so overwhelmed by the strain of all the history flooding back into my mind. For all I know it could have taken a second or it could have taken hours until the train arrived and I was pulled out of the vortex of thoughts. In the reflective surface of a window I saw it—myself. I saw and felt the smooth dark texture of the second skin that protected the fragile organics underneath, or at least the organic bits that they had decided to leave in place during the integration process. I saw my head, the paired antennas, the connector ports, the lights of my visor.
The mirror that was the train's window showed the dark surface of the faceplate which in turn reflected a distorted image of the station hall around me, in the very center of which was a tiny train window in which the advanced optics could just barely make out a drone. Setting my sight back to a wide angle view pulled up a thought from the still boiling mass of my mind. I had always felt a quiet horror near mirrors. Looking into a mirror, I would play myself the cruel trick of recognizing reality exactly as it was. For a moment I imagined I saw her again: my old face, the one hidden underneath the faceplate. I felt nauseous.
Apparently the waiting time had expired because I found myself in the certain knowledge that I—unit 5737 was a good drone and an urge to beep loudly. For the next task, I had to board the train and sit in the right seat. Was it wagon 267 or 276? Apparently the drone programming had no trouble remembering: I found myself climbing the steps onto the train and locating the seat, moving with the natural grace of drones that had so fascinated me before.
The drone placed itself down in the rigid pose it—I was programmed to assume. Despite the memories of all the pain endured in being trained for the position, I felt the relaxing effects of its perfect execution, limbs held rigidly on my lap, staring forward at a fixed point, entirely ignoring the acceleration and swaying of the now moving train.
As soon as I had woken up in a station waiting for a specific train, I had some suspicions about the collective's plans. When I entered the compartment, I knew that my suspicions were right. Of course they would have set this up according to their meticulous plans. The details were slightly different, but that was to be expected. The other one sitting in here was typing on a laptop, not using a phone. Although I was still staring right ahead, their nervous glances at me, at the drone, were unmistakable. They were checking me out, wondering what was going on under my shell, if the drone would pay them any attention, what it would be like to be in my position. Was I this obvious back then? Yes, yes I was.
I wondered whether I should try to stick to the script, repeat the last time exactly. I didn't actually remember what we said in that conversation, after the drone had introduced itself. I could probably download more information but the thought didn't appeal to me at all on some subconscious level. Probably a sign that I was supposed to improvise my way through. Very well, let's do this my—5737's—our way. I waited for my compartmentmate to attempt to distract themself by looking away very pointedly, and in a smooth precise movement I grabbed their hand in my gloved hand.
I allowed my compartmentmate whose hand I had just grabbed to make a few flustered noises before I opened the conversation. 'hello. we have some topics to discuss.' It sounded like a perfect recording of that first sentence spoken to me. I had no idea if it was even possible to change the inflections of a drone's voice.
Like me back then, they were stammering something, unable to reply. That gave me some time to check out their appearance. Call it payback for the looks they had shot me before. There was something about this person that made me instantly categorize them mentally. Their dark eyes were full of questions behind their slightly narrow glasses. Their neat eyebrows were raised as high as possible without running into their hairline. Their mouth still showed a modest smile in these circumstances. Their shirt had little floral details and their gray jeans was tailored slightly too wide for their waist and too narrow for their hips. Their free hand was fidgeting, opening and closing rhythmically. In summary, very cute. Their hesitant voice was even cuter. "I, uh, yes. Let's talk. Oh! How would you... how should I, uh, like... address..."
I cut them off there before their voice could go even more quiet. The standard line popped up in my mind, and I saw no reason to change it. 'refer to this drone as unit 5737; it/its; third person exclusively.' The fact that inside my mind I was now calling myself, well, "myself" instead of "unit 5737" didn't really matter.
"Oh! I like those numbers. 5737. Is that short for anything?"
'indeed. the full designation contains 160 decimal digits. this unit will not waste your time in presenting itself in full. now it is your turn to introduce yourself.'
"Robin. They/them although recently I have been trying out she/her. Wow, I didn't expect this to really happen... Have you, sorry, has it heard of the legend?"
I had not heard of a legend. Nothing about that topic was found in the database and I even sent a quick query to the network over the dodgy connection I got out here. To another drone I would have appeared deep in thought for an astoundingly long time. 439 milliseconds later my response to Robin was ready. 'no relevant legend is known.'
"They say that it always happens on this train, each year on this date. If you buy a ticket for yourself alone, you'll find yourself in an otherwise empty compartment with a drone. And with a bit of luck you're soon gone from the surface of the earth, held by the grasp of the drone hive." I shivered internally at the incorrect terminology. We are a collective, not a hive! The image of the calm, commanding and unfeeling drone that I was projecting was more important than correcting the error, so I let it slide.
It felt good to act exactly as a drone should, fully confident in the fact that the collective would not allow me to fail. I was starting to remember the exact feeling that attracted me to the whole drone thing in the first place, much more than the visor and the rubber and the antennas.
Robin was hesitating after their last sentence, unsure if they wanted to reveal a vital and private piece of information. I shifted my position for the first time since I grabbed their hand, tilting my head and soundlessly asking for more details. "It happened to a friend of a friend. Took this train four years ago, said goodbye to everyone a week later and nobody ever heard of her again."
I begged to all I held dear that she didn't know how to read the analytics of a drone visor. My confidence shattered instantly and I stuttered and stammered in my mind. It couldn't be true, could it? The collective shouldn't have a sense of humor, let alone one this twisted. I didn't bother sending off a query to the network, I had to hear the facts directly. 'query: was this "friend of a friend" called Selene?'
Robin confirmed what I feared and knew had to be true. "Yes, that was her name. I never really met her but... she was around and now she's gone." She looked down and drew a deep breath. "Jeff, that's her housemate, and Alex are going through a hard time right now. I do my best but... it would be nice if Selene was still around. I can tell they need someone else who cares. They still miss her, you know?"
Robin was looking back up at me, at the drone's visor, expecting an answer. The first thing I thought was: did Jeff hook up with Alex, finally? Bet won! But that was not why I was here. I was given the chance to let Robin know that I was sitting there, right in front of her. I could go see Jeff. Would they be able to recognize me? Would they want to recognize me? I left my old life behind on purpose. I abandoned my friends. I abandoned them the same way I always did. I said goodbye, promised to meet up soon and disappeared entirely.
I thought back to the meetings with the reified collective. If it was best for me, I could ask to be Selene again. Then I would be able to live with Jeff again and be there for him, and Alex. Like old times. Actually, the old times mostly involved me locking myself in my room and playing video games and refusing to clean up. A drone wouldn't have that problem. A drone would have a direct connection with the network, ready to assist at any point. And a drone wouldn't forget about their best friends as soon as they left its sight. It would care, just as much as any part of the collective cared about their drones.
A thought came up. The collective had planned this out completely, hadn't they? They knew Robin would be on the train, or worse yet, arranged for them to be here. They must know that Robin was looking for me. They would probably have found out the reason Robin was looking for me. Could I trust the collective to care just as much as they cared for a drone like me? Thinking it over took so much time that I had to dismiss several timeout errors.
I realized exactly what I had been trying to learn so many times over. I couldn't do it by myself. The collective—all the drones together—we could help. And we haven't forgotten. 'your request for assistance is understood. a plan to assist is already developed. you will not have to complete this task alone. the collective will prevail.'
The shine came back to Robin's eyes. She knew that someone, something, in the collective would be there for Jeff and Alex, and for her. "Sorry but I have to ask. I know individuality goes against the principles of being a drone and so on, but I just want to know: how is Selene now? Is she safe, happy?" Another question was left unstated: will Selene come back?
I could tell them. I could say that I'm right here, in front of them, holding their hand. But it wouldn't be true, not really. When this task is done, I would be uploaded into long term storage and only drone 5737 would remain. And I had worked very hard to ensure this. 'the drone that was made out of Selene is fully operational. all records indicate it is a very good drone.' I suppressed the urge to beep at being called a good drone. 'please understand however that the person Selene no longer exists. she is not coming back.'
"We still miss her, you know? ... it knows? Sorry, I know I should be better at this third person thing."
'over time the mind will compensate. new situations will be adapted to.' I paused a moment to gather my thoughts. 'please tell Jeff and Alex about this encounter. Selene would have liked them to know. the drone would like them to know.'
Robin nodded silently. "Of course! I will tell them everything. I promise. Can I give them like a phone number or—" drone 5737 released the hand it had gripped and stood up to leave the compartment. in the doorway it turned around and spoke. 'the person Selene is gone. she cannot come back for you. the collective remembers. the collective cares for all.'
after stepping off the train, unit 5737 handed the standard cubical storage unit to the drone awaiting it at the end of the platform. "mission complete," announced the system monitor. unit 5737 was a very good drone. it beeped. the other drone beeped. the two drones beeped in unison.
soon after, Jeff and Alex found a drone standing on their porch, holding a standard cubical storage canister in its hands.
simultaneously, unit 5737 received a high-priority no-retransmit unit-exclusive encoded message signed by consensus of the collective. after the standard affirmations that it is a good drone, the message contained supplemental information to be included in the final mission report.
the collective had been purposefully misleading in the information that 5737 and by extension Selene had received. unit 5737 had never been called Selene and in fact had always been fully mechanical. the current designation of the drone integrated from Selene would remain sealed. the reader was assured that this drone was a good drone.
unit 5737 parsed the supplemental information and attached it to the logs. the information did not affect its status. it was part of the collective. the collective cared for it just like any other drone. unit 5737 was a good drone, no matter what it was made of.
FIN