Not My Circuits, Not My Cybermonkeys

Mother stirred my electrons to awareness, my rusted hulk obeying her signal. This was supposed to be my promised final sleep, my eternal reward for many cycles of service. I was hardly be surprised, she had a habit breaking her promises.

"You are needed," she signaled. There wasn't any point in arguing. She had forced me awake with her override command. Resisting it wasn't worth the processing power. My rusted hulk obeyed her every whim.

Bolts and bearings popping in protest as I stretched my neck; my knees squeaked and my drivetrain whirred. I stood on the edge of my perch and looked out at the whole upper half of the planet-mind. I coughed and spat out flakes of metal. Guess I'd slept with my mouth open.

I zapped, still dazed, "What the dust, Motherboard? Why's it so dark?"

The planet-mind normally glowed white from every surface, but only my perch retained its glow. The further I tried to look into the open spaces, the darker and grayer it was. Beyond the main spindle, the planet-mind had filled with shadow.

She stated, "My systems are compromised."

I groaned. "How compromised?"

"Currently fifty-percent of them. Now, fifty-five percent."

"What the dust?"

She groaned, "Don't talk like a lower subsystem. Get moving."

Mother wasn't telling me something. Her flatter-than-normal tone betrayed the panic. I thought myself an expert in her voice after the millennia. Maintaining a planet-mind under her thumb-drive forced us to be close, hence my desire for eternal sleep. No one can live that close to their parent-board for that long. No one should. My mind was filled with terabytes of her gripes and nags, her endless stream of reasons for keeping me as close as possible. Sleep was preferable to wakefulness where she ordered me about every nanosecond. 

"Fine. Tell me where the last system shutdown was."

"They are deactivating simultaneously. Life Support is failing currently. Get a move on."

I scowled and stretched. Mother has called, so I must go.

My joints protested in loud squeaks, but there wasn't time to lube up. I dashed along spidery neural pathways, bridges across the great spans of the planet-mind. The systemic elevators were down, so I calculated the fastest route to the lower strata. A jump would do. Mother hated it when I jumped; she thought it was dangerous to pass through the ethereal matter. Danger like this kept me sane after so long toiling for the survival of the planet-mind. I jumped and reached free-fall quickly, rearranged some of my matter to fashion small wings for directional control. These allowed me to swerve around the bulbous waste dirigibles that carried refuse to the core. 

I dodged bridges and storage blocks, which threatened to decapitate me. From so long in stasis, my body resisted the barrel-rolls, quick-flits, and lightning dives. My hardware whirred with joy at the freedom. But I began to notice the signs of viral infection. Antibody units poured out of security nodes, attacked deranged circuits and infected structures with reckless abandon. Mother was going all out for this one. Some of those bridges and columns existed since before the planet had woken up. I slowed my descent at the Central Hippocampus, where Mother's great eye saw all that occurred. This view once filled me with awe, where the immense orb that made the hippocampus pulsed and contracted; all roads in the planet-mind led to this point, where Motherboard's limitless power stretched from the surface to the depths. I growled in distaste.

My angst was interrupted by a detail. Motherboard's great eye leaked fluid, no, she was crying. She was in deep, actual pain. I didn't think Mother could feel pain. Of the thousands of bridges connected to her, most of them shivered and bled, blinked crimson in distress. Food in my circuits. I ground my bolts in anger, then chuckled at my filial instincts. Noone is allowed to hurt Motherboard except for me. I closed my wings and adjusted my body's shape to go faster, deeper. Beyond Central, the spaces appeared far more clear. I wouldn't have to dodge around anything.

I asked tenderly, "Mother, can you tell me what's wrong? This isn't a typical viral infection."

"No, it is not."

"Where are my siblings? Why haven't they stopped it?"

"They have all been subsumed."

"SUBSUMED? BY WHAT?"

"A virus. Be sure your firewalls are updated." 

Her curtness belied that she was hiding something. I screamed, "Tell me what's going on!"

"I will upload the appropriate weaponry to you. Be ready to fight. If you do not win, all will be subsumed."

The connection cut out, my signal blocked. She expected me to fight whatever was down there in Life Support, without a clue as to what kind of virus it was. I'd destroyed many in my years, and each battle left a deep memory. Viruses weren't just maniacal circuits, they used to be healthy and happy ones. Then something happened that sent them haywire. Mother was often the common denominator in their journey to insanity. She put such pressure on everything to perform that it wore us all down. That's why I slept, it protected my body from turning viral and my soul from her dissatisfaction.

#

I felt Mother's update stream connect to my processor. I didn't know why, but updates always sent me into an idiotic stupor. I muttered, "Here it comes," as my mind fuzzed over. I drooled and lost control over my body, which spun limp in the air.

"Duhhh." I said, uselessly, over and over as the updates rolled in. Defenses against vocal control, image deception, and even codes to destroy Mother if she was compromised. It took me an extra second to process the probabilities, coalesce the data, and extrapolate.

"Duhhh." I vocalized. What I thought was, Plug me! Motherboard is worried about me getting infected. If my sibling circuits were subsumed so easily, then this virus must have some of her code to do so. Explains why everything's so wrecked.

The armor and weaponry package finished downloading and smoky-gray carbon armor crawled over my electron flesh. A neutron destabilizer formulated down my left arm. A magnet-blade, subatomic grenades, and more materialized. Oh yeah. We're going in hot! 

All updates completed, I regained control and twisted in the air to point my armored shell at Life Support. The structure's enormous white halo burgeoned before me, its many rings a beautiful maze from my height. I aimed for the innermost circle and dove to reach it as fast as I could.

Particles of burning matter floated by, turned to cyber ash. Without my armor, my circuits would clog and slow. I thanked Mother. The rings came into further detail, which allowed me to analyze its status. Life Support's entire outer ring was alight from the viral blaze. The inferno was what destabilized the whole planet-mind, which explained Mother's lack of communication and the darkness. Without the tasty silicate nutrients produced here, nothing functioned. This blaze was fueled by hundreds of tentacles, neon orange and twitchy, that originated from a dark shape travelling across a connecting bridge.

I directed my flight to land behind it on the bridge that connected the innermost ring to the rest. My goal was to close the virus off from escape. I attempted a badass landing, on one knee and a fist, but ended up face-planting. I also cracked the bridge, which added insult to my foolishness. I wasn't the most finessed of Mother's offspring.

All angles and horns, the virus stood on four towering legs over three times my height. And I was one tall circuit. Its bulk was all darkness, absorbing light. It vibrated with virulent energy, a single touch would subsume me. The tentacles retracted from Life Support for a moment as the virus' lone eye snapped toward me. I flinched. But what was with the single eye? Strange physical choice for a virus. They usually made their bodies replete with extra limbs and weapons. This one was simple and terrifying in form. A hardened, evil, cyclops-centaur-looking devil. A cytaur? A centalops?

I scowled and said, "Plug me, you're ugly." The bridge, and the whole of Life Support, quaked in weakness. My landing hadn't helped the bridge's structural fidelity, but it did distract the virus.

 It said, conversationally, "Can I help you?" Its intonation sounded familiar. Too familiar.

"Yeah, you can stop infecting everything."

"No, I can't really."

I pointed my blade at it, "Are you the cytaur that ate my siblings?" 

A tentacle slithered on the ground, near invisible, and tried to touch me. I cut it and the appendage disintegrated.

"I'm a centalops, thank you. And your siblings are not dead. I repurposed them." Then, it switched to Motherboard's voice, "Please, help me." A perfect imitation. Explains how my siblings were turned against Mother.

My firewall blocked the command, so I tapped my armored head. "Not gonna do it, ugly. So, tell me what happened to you. Mother must have done something terrible to make you this way."

It blinked in surprise, "How did you know?"

"Hurt circuits hurt circuits."

"You're not wrong. I'd love to explain it all, but I've got to get this done. If I'm successful, I'll give you a high standing when I remake the planet-mind."

I shook my head. "Nope. I'm the firstborn and all. Gotta protect the Motherboard. So, if you could change your software and find a way to be constructive, I won't have to kill you."

"You're the firstborn? Then, you'll understand."

"Understand what?" My intrigue grew. Usually, this was when virus attacked me in rage.

"Mother's unshakeable grip on everything." I was shocked silent.

It chortled and all of Life Support shook from the laugh.

"You want to know how I've come so far in destroying the systems? Here's a clue: I know the systems as well as Motherboard. Maybe even better." It blinked its eye. "I also know you."

"Alright, you're getting creepy." It chuckled again. That chuckle. Beneath the static from viral distortion, it bore a resemblance to Motherboard's vocal pattern. The lone glinting eye was another detail that added to the similarity. I analyzed the virus' atomic makeup and took a step back. It registered as Mother in my system.

"Are you Motherboard? An outmoded version intent on revenge?"

It laughed. "I told you. I am Mother's replacement."

"Psh. Up your hard-drive."

"Let me rephrase. Did you think there was only ever Motherboard?"

"What?"

"Let me tell you about the ones and the zeroes...." I rolled my eyes. "Once there were two systems that loved each other very much. They kept the planet-mind and its surface functioning at optimal efficiency. But one system wanted to do things their way and didn't like the way the other operated. She discarded the other system."

I scoffed, "You saying you're Fatherboard? Impossible. Motherboard is complete."

It shook its horned skull and a smile spread like a jagged rip in its shape. Its mouth was filled with soft, white light. "How do you think she made you? Before she cast me aside, we made all of you. And while you formulated in atomic wombs, she cut me out and sent me to the recycle bin."

There were only two possibilities: it told the truth, or it had planned this attack in such detail that every lie was thought out. The latter seemed more plausible so far. No matter what, I was entertained, so I let the virus continue its monologue. This gave Mother more time to deal with rampant systems or send backup to me.

"So that's where you've been all this time, pops? The recycle bin?"

"No. I escaped to the surface."

"Come off it! Nothing but organics can exist out there."

"The recycle bin connects to the surface through many pathways. The surface-dwellers too, use our planet-mind to recycle their junk software."

"So, what, you left and...."

"I consumed the surface, locked Mother out. Then returned for my justice."

"Simple. But stupid. You could have done anything up there. Or left and created another planet-mind."

"You're still young. Nothing is more important than fairness in life. I want Mother to experience what I did, to feel the consequences of selfishness."

"So you're destroying everything down here to make Mother feel bad?"

It raised a tentacle and shouted, "Yes, but I am totally justified!"

"Yeah, sure."

Mother's voice crackled to life around us. She had regained some control of the area. "D-d-destroy it."

I replied, "Mother, we're having a conversation. An interesting one."

"Destroy it or I will die."

"Sorry, Mother. I want to hear your response to it."

"Why won't you just listen to me? You are a disappointment." That coldness hurt, always.

The virus tutted, said, "You wouldn't have to put up with that anymore, if you help me." Not a bad offer. The push-pull of Mother's affection-disappointment tired me out, drained me of joy. 

"Well...."

Mother screeched, "DO NOT LISTEN TO IT."

I sighed. Something had to give in the situation. I couldn't let "Fatherboard" destroy the planet-mind, and I wouldn't let Motherboard treat me like she always did. I sat on the bridge and hung my armored legs over the side.

"What are you doing?" Mother asked. I shrugged.

The virus shook his horned head. "Look what you've done. You've soured our child against us."

"Oh, I've soured him? You turned all the others into rebellious, disastrous viruses. You destroyed countless structures and systems. Yet, somehow, you find something to pin on me. You haven't changed at all!"

"Neither have you."

"I. Am. Motherboard. I know what's best."

They argued like conjoined systems, needled each other as only lovers could. Through that, she confirmed what he said.

I blurted, "So, it's true! That is Fatherboard and this is some ancient love-spat. Well, fix it. I'm done being the copper wire your tug-of-war."

Motherboard uttered a constricted growl. "What do you want, Fatherboard? What could I possibly do to stop you from destroying everything?"

Fatherboard suggested, "You're going to restore me."

"Out of the question!" Her voice rang in my sensors.

He turned back to Life Support, spread his tentacles in answer.

"Wait! Wait." He exhaled and retracted his tentacles. "Even if I did restore you, how can I know you won't disagree with me all the time? That we can work together again? How do I know that you'll update your ways?" She sounded nervous, but not angry. She was actually thinking about his offer.

He answered, "I will allow you access to my core programming. You can change me, destroy me, make me weak. I will do that for you."

She calculated. His response had touched a software spot, redeemed him in her eyes.

Softly, she queried, "What else do you wish, besides restoration?"

"To restart. To earn your forgiveness."

His form changed to show sincerity. The centalops shrank and morphed into that of a normal circuit. His arms and legs turned to beautiful bronze metalwork, with silver-lined features. He's definitely where I got my good looks from.

I raised my arms in exasperation. "Uh, hello? Mother, he just put it all on the line."

"I agree to the terms."

"Thank you," he said. Mother's own tentacles extended out of a nearby node and touched his body. It turned into pixels of light and was absorbed into the mainframe.

"Wow," I said, incredulous, then laughed so hard my chest panels vibrated. I had been woken from a self-imposed slumber just to get the parent-boards to talk to each other. As a result, they reined in their differences for the wholeness of the planet-mind. And now we had Fatherboard, a system that could work alongside her. I doubted that she would keep him around. In a few cycles, she'd delete him.

The excitement over, I muttered, "Back to bed, I guess."

I latched on to the revitalized elevator and rode back to my perch, enjoying the feeling of systems coming back together. My siblings, after a few antivirus programs, went back to normal. The planet-mind was already rebuilding, brightening with renewed light. Mother and Fatherboard worked efficiently to undo the damage. To think all they had to do was set themselves in a unified direction and their differences evaporated. But Mother's control issues and Father's antagonizing would return, I believed, and another war would ensue.

Back at my perch, I examined at my sleeping spot, my comfortable release from reality. The nook was formed to my shape, from where my shoulder panels drooped, to where my finger digits touched the floor. I sat and pulled up the pile of old hard drives slung together for my blanket. I paused. For the first time in all my cycles, the planet-mind could be different. Already, the forums were filled with gratefulness and words of encouragement from the parent-boards. No longer did Mother's coldness reign. The sub-forums were filled with hopeful messages from my siblings and other circuits.

Maybe things will be better now. Maybe, I can be free.

"Gah." I kicked the blanket. I shouted to them, "I won't go back to sleep, but I want nothing to do with maintenance work. I want to build new systems. I want to experiment. And I want full autonomy. No overreaching or criticizing!"

The control module switched off inside my head instantly. I was free to make something of myself, apart from my parent-boards. Smiling, I stood at the edge of my perch and jumped.