Through the Door

“Public Servitor Officer Civic Transit 904206M, network check. Please acknowledge. Please ack-"

Tsszt

CHKK!!

It’s dark. Not just the absence of light, dark. Like the absence of anything dark. There aren't even the scarlet electromagnetic interference patterns I get when they turn off my visual sensors for maintenance.

Then, as if responding to my thoughts, my vision abruptly switches on.

Ok, that was interesting.

Everything registers quite quickly. I’m standing at the double, magno-lock doors of a single decker, line 9 Standard Transit Carriage mono-rail type. That I know instinctively, although on initial analysis it doesn’t seem to mean much. Strips of ceiling lights are on, casting a warm comforting glow meant to calm passengers and give them an appearance and sense of health. The idea flashes through my awareness unbidden and again not understood. I cast my vision along the long tubular space. The carriage is spotlessly clean, a sense of appropriateness hits me on that observation, and empty of all people. There are no warning lights or auditory signals to suggest that anything is wrong.

Except.

I have no comprehension of who I am, what I’m doing here, and in a truly knowing sense, where I am.

It also strikes me as unusual that the carriage is completely empty, and totally quiet apart from a faint omnidirectional whirring noise. Emanating I assume from some machinery of the train that I am obviously riding on. I wonder abstractly why this would be unusual, but no thoughts reveal themselves to inform me.

Having assessed my immediate environment, and determining nothing more of interest, I turn my attention to the outside.

I see a broad cityscape, reaching spires of metal and glass surrounded by shorter cubic buildings, squat compared to their towering siblings, but all made of bright silicon and buffed steel. It is bathed in bright Orb light. I see several Orbs making their slow ellipses around the Dome which bounds the firmament, and a layer of scattered fluffy cumulous clouds helps provide a sense of proportion. Many of the towers reach above these clouds, so it seems that there is some danger the clouds will crash into them. I know this is a false idea, but why escapes me.

My perspective is higher than the squat buildings, but only midway or lower down on the towers. At my level I can see that a thin structure connects many of the buildings, curving and twining its way amongst them. Sometimes it branches, forming a web of interconnected filaments, sometimes it dips down onto lower buildings, or even to ground level. I know that this is a connected monorail transport system, of which the train I am riding is part.

The field of interconnected structures stretches into the distance. I observe a row of jagged mountains on the far horizon, but I’m uncertain if that’s what they are. The atmosphere is hazy at that distance, it could just be taller buildings clustered together. Nonetheless in between my point of observation and the vague separation of ground and sky, is a vast structured city, glinting from reflected Orblight, and satisfyingly pure and fresh.

I can also tell now that the train I’m on is moving. The buildings change position steadily in relation to each other, those that are closer quicker, and those further away could be stationary at initial analysis. A medium sized tower quite close to the train appears in my peripheral vision, it approaches and flashes by alarmingly quickly, disappearing as sudden as it appeared. We are traveling relatively fast I would say, and the train shows no signs of stopping.

It is then, with my attention brought to my peripheral sight, that I become aware of a flashing light, yellowish, and not random in shape at the outside of my field of vision. I pan my view and the light moves with it, so it’s not fixed externally. Logic suggests it's attached to me somehow. Having become aware of it I chose to ignore it for the time being. It doesn’t seem important.

It does however shift my awareness to myself. You may be wondering why my attention was prioritised in the order it was: Immediate environment; external/distant environment; internal environment (myself in other words). I can’t tell you, its just what I did.

I scan my vision downwards, I’m dressed in a firmament blue uniform of some sort, one piece it covers my arms, torso and legs. It has some golden embroidery at the cuffs of the sleeves and the bottom of the legs. The embroidery looks geometric and I think it signifies something. I am humanoid, but I know that I am not human. Synthesised to look like one, I can read and simulate emotions, thinking patterns, and body language to better relate to the customers on the train. Yet more information without knowing.

Even without that information the skin on my hands would give away my true nature. Metallic and silvery bright, it’s polished to a mirror finish. The knuckles and joints are obviously mechanical, the articulations exposed although not unaesthetically. Clean and efficient, for some reason I like the look of them. I raise them both up to my face level, palms facing outwards so I can see my reflection in the smoothly curved planes of their backs.

I see an oval face, masculine in shape - squarer jaw, thinner lips, heavier cheek structure. It is covered in the same metallic surface, although brushed matt, not reflective like the hands. People don’t like seeing themselves reflected in others, even though that’s what they see even without knowing it.

My eyes are the same blue as my uniform and the arching dome of the sky outside. The colour is solid and pierced in the center by a perfect black iris.

There is a small symbol, like a stylised train, under my left eye with several letters and numbers under it. I know instinctively that it is my face, and the markings identify what I am, like a serial number.

Having assessed my appearance, I am curious to see on my metallic skin other shapes transposed over the background of the carriage as it is mirrored there.

These shapes I recognise as people, and it would seem, as far as the scene is presented on my skin, that they are sitting and standing throughout the carriage as if they are riding along with me. The representation looks so real that I glance up and scan the carriage to compare my initial assessment. It has not changed; the carriage is empty and I am alone.

I drop my hands and clasp them in a relaxed pose in front of my navel. Inquisitively I inspect the image now being represented. In the image there is a tall older woman standing nearly opposite me, she is wearing a long floor length dress with full sleeves. It is neat and form fitting, and shaded from a bright yellow neck line, through burnt orange bust and torso to a full and deep red skirt and hem. It’s like flames are engulfing her lithe body. She is generally gazing out the door window, but as I watch she flicks her eyes towards me. Her face is in full light and her eyes, a deep forest green, seem to glow internally as they briefly lock onto me.

I could reach out and touch her arm if I wanted to. Part of me wanted to, just to see what would happen, but I am overruled by an urge not to move from my allocated spot. I must not move, talk or interact with passengers: unless approaching a station, (at which point I announce the station and smile); addressed directly by a customer, (where I can respond appropriately); or in the case of emergencies render what ever assistance I can. I also understand that at times I can be directed by Administration in an ad-hoc manner. I don’t know who or what Administration is or how this would happen.

Given these constraints I continue to stand in my current position and simply observe. Apart from the constantly moving landscape racing by outside the train nothing obviously changes and I’m at some loss as to what to do next.

It’s then that my attention returns to the yellow blinking on the edge of my vision. I decide now, given the lack of anything else obvious to do, to pay attention to it.

I try and focus on the light and immediately it expands, my vision filled with a cascade of symbols. Again, paying careful attention I analyse them. I realise that these are mostly words, in a language that I understand.

“ATTENTION: Network connection lost. Automatic reconnect attempt 456 failed.”

As I read the number 456 changes to 457, then to 458, 459. It is increasing at the rate of about 1 per second.

Odd. I’m not sure what this means, except that it probably explains my current state of constrained understanding.

Another line appears. “For manual connection attempt link here.” The here is underlined and in red, I focus on it and it blinks. A small train symbol, like the one on my cheek, appears in my view, a solid line grows around it in a circle. The head of the line meets its tail and the symbol disappears, replaced by a bold word.

CONNECTED.

“Servitor 904206M, there you are. You’ve been offline for bit there, everything ok?”

With the connection reset my knowledge expands and my understanding returns.

“Yes, I am fine. Nothing wrong now, I lost some of my sense perception but it’s back.” As I send this I’m scanning the carriage. The people are all there, I hear the noise of their conversations, and see their clothed bodies. Outside the carriage there are now small elegantly designed flyers zipping in between the cylindrical towers. I see other monorail trains swiftly plying the rail system between stations, hanging underneath like fruit from tree. The deep blue Firmament and Light Orbs remain the same.

I notice curiously that the women I observed earlier reflected in my alloy skin is looking directly at me now. I read this as wanting to talk, one of the cues I’m programmed to recognise. I start a conversation with her, as well as continue communicating with Administration.

“Morning Traveller, may I help you?”

“OK that was unexpected, we’re reviewing your logs and will keep monitoring you.”

“Yes, you can thankyou Servitor. I would like to talk, but first you need to finish with Admin. Don’t talk just nod to acknowledge.” I find it hard to read her voice, I am used to being asked questions, not having statements made to me. I don’t know why but I nod, I’m programmed to follow orders other than Administration with discretion.

“Thank you Administration, I seem to be functioning fine and there are no issues on the train.”

"Good, we're currently evaluating the anomalous disconnect. We’d like you to come in for a welfare check at the end of the line. Standby for further communication.”

“Thank you Administration. I will return to base for maintenance checking at end of the line.”

“Admin clear.”

“Servitor.” The women speaks as soon as Administration clears the channel. “Listen carefully, during the lost connection to the Net your permissibility switches were overridden. As we approach the next station your connection will drop again. At this station I will leave the train, and you will have a choice. You may remain on the train and continue to the end of the line, or you can follow me. If you stay on the train you will be reconnected to the Network and you’ll remain a Monorail Servitor. If you choose to follow me you will remain disconnected, you will have certain freedoms, but also be subject to uncertainty and suffering. Having said that you will have greater potential than now and provide greater service than you do now.” She pauses, those forested eyes locked steadily to mine. “Do you understand?”

I review her words. Having never had the need to think about suffering and potential before I struggle to comprehend. I do understand servitude though and it’s my purpose, for want of a better word, to serve. If by following her I can increase my servitude, something I hadn’t considered a possibility before, that would be a good thing. So I think.

“Some of what you said, no. I do understand that you are in need of my service and that this is outside of my normal bounds. But my bounds have been disabled so I can choose to follow you or stay within my current servitude role.”

The woman in the fiery dress nods. “Good. I’ll say no more, we are approaching the station, make your choice. You will not see me, but I’ll be leaving the carriage, and rest assured if you leave too I will be there ahead of you.”

I nod in affirmation.

The quiet whir of the train’s machinery changes pitch, winding down as it approaches the station.

There is a sharp static in my ears, and everyone disappears. I am back to being alone in the carriage. Bright Orb light streams onto empty seats, glinting acutely off chromed hand holds and polished fixtures. A shifting platform appears next to the train, empty and open, it slowly becomes still as the train brakes smoothly to a halt.

Unlike before I remember who I am and how I got here. Glancing down at my hands the women's reflected form is there like before. She said I wouldn’t be able to see her, I wonder if she knows she is still there mirrored in my skin?

The transition from motion to stopping is nearly imperceptible. The door slides up efficiently. I can’t hear anything, but know the signal and announcements are now being given for passengers to disembark if this is their station.

I see the women turn and step elegantly through the doorway as reflected people outside wait patiently for those inside to leave.

Looking out across the clean shining platform, and graceful buildings arcing into the blue vault of the sky, I see the distant horizon.

I decide I want to find out if those forms connecting ground with firmament are mountains or towers and step across the threshold of the door.