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Mandica Kolar is a perfectly normal human, which is rare in her time. The
transhumanism movement might have begun in the middle of the 20th century,
but it did not gain any real traction for many decades, when the science
started to catch up with the ideas. Over the next few centuries, the
population of undigitized organic humans (UDOs) gradually diminished. They
weren’t being killed or replaced. It was just that fewer and fewer people
were deciding to tolerate natural aging limitations, aches and pains, and
kind of being sidelined. They have become a silent minority. Posthumans hold
most of the power now, not out of some nefarious plan, but because that is
how the math works out. Whether consciously or subconsciously, some
undigitized people feel that they’re being treated as pets, or maybe
children. They are so fragile, and people just wanted to protect that. This
mindset can be problematic because it often leads to the UDOs being
patronized, but honestly, most mean no disrespect. One little plane crash or
massive explosion, and a UDO would die...forever. Most everyone else is
constantly backing up their consciousness to a remote server somewhere, and
don’t worry about such things. In fact, their virtual immortality often
makes their lives pretty boring, especially since these adaptations come
with other technological improvements, leading to higher quality of life in
a post-scarcity society. They have turned to entertainment, and the most
popular of these involve some level of simulated danger. They can’t die for
real, but they can make believe, and the best systems do better at making
them forget that the stakes are genuinely quite low.
Someone is paraterraforming an entire planet for these reasons. Instead of
virtual simulations, they will be physical. Some might even alter a
visitor’s memories to forget who they are, making them feel like life is
still precious and fleeting. Tens of thousands of domes, each with its own
theme, are being constructed on the surface of Castlebourne. Mandica isn’t
necessarily interested in the simulations, but she does want to leave Earth,
and she happens to know of a ship that is heading in that direction. There
are too many restrictions here. She doesn’t want to feel like a pet anymore.
She wants to live somewhere that will let her be herself. To accomplish
this, she needs to move to a Charter Planet. Lying between 50 and 200 light
years from Earth, Charter Worlds are not subject to the same laws that the
Core Worlds and Stellar Neighborhood systems are. They have to protect
themselves, but they often do so by chartering resources from other
systems. Castlebourne is set to receive a shipment of lower lifeforms from
Earth. They have already been sent one arkship, so this is a second wave
with additional specimens, many of which are live. It will probably be
Mandica’s last chance to get to where she wants to be. Arkships are rare,
and Castlebourne is lucky to get two. They may not receive anything else
ever again as most other resources can be found and processed in situ. The
problem is, this ship is not for her. There was no chance that they were
ever going to let her on it, so she has decided to stow away.
Mandica is a nomad, but she’s still a citizen of the state, and is entitled
to certain amenities. Most people in this post-scarcity society get what
they need from their local Resource Allocation Committees, which they voted
for. As she has no local rights or responsibilities, an At-Large Allocation
Board (ALAB) decides what she gets, and what she doesn’t. The people who sit
on the board are reportedly mostly former RAC members, but she has never
even met even one of them. All of her dealings have been fully automated,
which she prefers. She accepts the bureaucracy, but that doesn’t mean she
has to participate in government. Since life is so dangerous for nomads, she
never goes anywhere truly alone. She possesses a bot pack of drones to aid
her in her travels, and protect her. They practically force the pack on her,
but she likes animals, and they’re quite convincing, so she doesn’t mind.
Others in her situation have outright refused, or disabled them permanently.
There is something else that is different when it comes to Mandica. In
addition to the horse, dog, hawk, and flutterby, she’s also accompanied by
an android. This is fairly rare for nomads. It’s more of a hermit thing, and
of course, there is overlap, but there is a clear distinction. Hermits live
alone, and reject the state’s authority, which is why most of them have gone
off-world by now. Nomads, on the other hand, frequently get involved in
community affairs, they just like to shift between communities at will. They
don’t typically need an android for human companionship, because they’re
getting plenty of socialization through more conventional—albeit
ephemeral—relationships. Mandica visits populated regions as well, but she
spends a lot more time in the wilderness, exploring, hiking, and just
enjoying the solitude. So why bother with an android? Well, Mordred provides
something she might be able to get from others, but with a lot fewer
complications. He gives her the sexual satisfaction she needs without all
the emotional baggage. Well...there might be a little bit of emotion
involved.
“But I don’t understand why I cannot go with you.” Mordred was programmed to
adore Mandica, perhaps a little too much.
“Because I need you to stay behind to fake my death,” she explains once
again.
He was also programmed to be able to forget things, act a little dumb, and
be generally confused. “But I love you, my love. We said we would stay
together forever.”
“It was only a fantasy. I must away to start my new life. If you truly love
me, you’ll set me free, erase the animals’ memories, and protect me from
being discovered.”
Mordred looks down at Mandica’s bioprinted facsimile. It’s state of the art,
and looks just like her, down to the scars. A dedicated medical examiner
could plausibly tell the difference, but they will hopefully not even bother
with a post mortem. It will be a simple fall from an extremely high cliff,
which is perfectly believable, given her lifestyle, and nomads aren’t
exactly top priority. “This golem of yours...does she feel as you do? Does
she love me as well?”
“She feels nothing. She is not a she at all, but only a husk. Her
sole job is to pretend to be me...in her death.”
“Will we ever see each other again?” he presses. “One day?”
“I told you that I would never lie to you, Mordred, and I shan’t. I’m afraid
you will never see me again. As the brightest candle burns the fastest, our
love must end.”
“How can I go on without you? I shall end my own life.”
“You can do that, but only after you show others that I am dead. Please,
this is of the utmost importance. I cannot have them looking for me.”
“I will, my beautiful flower,” Mordred promises. “Now turn away. If I see
your face for one second more, I will not be able to say goodbye. Goodbye,
goodbye, goodbye!” he shouts melodramatically.
“Goodbye, dear Mordred. I’ll think of you always.” Mandica walks down the
trail, and heads for the launch site. Castlebourne calls to her from the
distant sky.
