Alexander spent the next week learning how to reform his robot body with the living alloy. That turned out to be far easier than understanding the technology that his past self created on this desolate world.
It was clear that he had been a genius before, far exceeding what he was capable of now.
Realizing you were only a shadow of your former self was a bitter pill to swallow, but Alexander didn’t let that realization stop him as he studied the few recordings that he had left behind.
“Year eighteen,” his previous self said on the video as he stood in front of a massive inground tank filled with black dust. “As you can see, I’ve improved upon my initial efforts to utilize carbon in all its forms. My previous methods relied on something similar to resin printing, but the hardening method and layer lines left weak points. I could have spent time improving my printing methods, but why bother when nature already has a better answer?”
While watching the videos, Alexander learned that his previous self had been enamored with biological functions and how things grew. Considering everything he learned about the wrecked ship and the AIs, it was no real surprise. Any interest in biology had been completely absent when he had woken back up. Even now, watching the videos, he didn’t really feel any connection towards that field of science. He would use it if he had to, but he preferred the engineering marvels that he created.
Past Alex continued. “Why build something when you can grow it? Observe?” his past self waved theatrically over the large pit of material, playing it up for the camera and whoever might see the videos in the future.
“At least I didn’t lose my showmanship,” Alexander muttered. It had just been toned down a bit—a lot. It had been toned down a lot.
The level of material in the pit quickly fell, leaving behind the shell of a shuttle. At least that’s what it looked like.
“A properly programmed organism can build whatever you want, given the materials. There is some finishing work that needs to be done. You can’t exactly build a fusion reactor from pure carbon, at least not that I’ve figured out. So that and supplementary systems need to be installed before the ship will be flightworthy. Why build a ship, you might ask? Easy. While I can create carbon on this dead world, it’s not a fast process. The carbon-forming process, as well as the programmed organisms, need other organic compounds to continue operating.”
Alexander had been wondering what the drawback to such a method was, and now he knew. Getting access to pure carbon wasn’t much of a concern for an established manufacturing center such as Eden’s End or Earth, but out here, it must have been a nightmare to source.
After a pause, the past version of him continued. “To speed things along, I need to gather more organic compounds. The few I was able to pack away when leaving Earth took over a decade to produce the material that went into the ship. I can’t return to Earth, which would have been the easiest place to gather the materials I need, but that’s fine. There are other systems nearby. Statistically, one of them should have some form of organic life on it. Probably not intelligent life, but that’s not an issue. In fact, I would prefer something less complex. They are usually faster to map their genome, modify, and breed as necessary for my goals.”
The video cut out there, and Alexander began looking for the next one, but when he clicked on the next newest video, it was from four years later, and he was going on some random tangent. Alexander was about to start watching it anyway before he was interrupted.
“You know you don’t have to use that form,” Rush said as he entered the workshop, eating a donut and carrying a cup of coffee.
Alexander stared at Rush in surprise, almost losing the cohesion he had built up in his body, before finally getting past the confusion of seeing an AI eating. “Why are you eating?”
“Why not?” Rush replied. “Food is an experience, and after spending time amongst humans for so long, I fully understand why humanity spent so much effort creating unique dishes.”
“That’s not what I mean. Why are you eating? You’re an AI.”
“So?” Rush asked. “Do you think we designed the living alloy just to experience touch, hearing, and seeing? Last I checked, humans had the senses of smell and taste as well. Why would we limit ourselves?”
Alexander didn’t really have a response to that.
Seeing his flabbergasted look, Rush chuckled. “You probably think it’s a waste of time and effort?”
Alexander nodded his avatar, which was made from the living alloy, since his little holo projector had been vaporized along with his body.
“Hmm. Some of my siblings would agree. I don’t. I’m alive, and I wish to experience everything that life has to give. Which is why I said you don’t have to keep that form. You could take on a fully human form, or any form for that matter.”
Alexander already realized that, but he had spent nearly a decade trapped inside that robot body. At first, he wanted to do everything he could to get free of that prison, but it felt comfortable and safe now. He also didn’t want to appear different when he returned, so people wouldn’t freak out. He suspected it was going to be hard enough to convince them that he was the real Alexander when the time came. Returning, looking like a random man who had a similar face to his holographic avatar, sounded like a headache.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
“I’m comfortable this way for now,” he replied.
Rush shrugged before downing the last of his coffee and letting out a contented sigh. “So,” he said, turning to Alexander. “How’s your trip down memory lane going?”
“Slow,” Alexander said cautiously.
“Oh. You don’t have to worry about my siblings. They are once again off doing something more important. It’s why I had time to show up and chat.”
“I was hoping to see what my past self had to say after building the shuttle, but it just skips to a video four years down the line. Any idea why I didn’t record anything for so long?”
Rush gave a concerned look. “I don’t understand. The video after the shuttle should be Alex returning from a short trip where he acquired several different biological samples.”
“You sound very sure of yourself, but that’s not the next video listed here,” Alexander gestured to the projection.
Rush walked over. “I’ve studied all of your records extensively. There are dozens of videos between the shuttle trip and this one. Do you mind?”
It felt weird having Rush call them his records, but Alexander shook his avatar and stepped aside to let the man have access to the keyboard. Rush’s fingers blurred over the device, searching archives and logs on the operating system. The longer he worked, the bigger his frown grew, until he finally stepped back from the keyboard with a scowl.
Rush shook his head in disgust. “While we hadn’t reached a true consensus, I thought we were all in agreement about letting you have full access to your previous records and recordings. It appears I was mistaken. I’m sorry, Alex, it appears that one or more of my siblings have erased the records and deleted any evidence of them having ever existed. Those missing files are not the only ones that were deleted recently, either. To think they would go so far as to delete data, it’s unthinkable.”
Alexander might have done the same in their position, but he kept that opinion to himself. “Can you recover them?”
“No, but that’s not a problem. If you’ll allow me, I’ll simply transfer them from my memories to your own. That way, my siblings can’t try to sabotage your efforts a second time.”
“Go ahead,” Alexander said, before adding. “I’m less worried about some missing data than what else they might try.”
“I—I’ll try to talk some sense into them.”
“You do that,” Alexander replied flatly while mentally trying to come up with a way to deal with AIs formed from a living alloy that could transport across space effortlessly. He was coming up blank on that front.
Rush sent the missing data, then quickly made an exit, leaving Alexander alone once again.
The data was actually much easier to process inside his mind. He could speed the videos along, pause them, or rewind them with just a thought. Some even had helpful 3D renderings instead of just the hard light projections. He could actually experience what his previous self had been doing. It was much like the interactive holograms that he used at the academy.
The next video was just as Rush had stated, old Alex returned with samples, which he managed to grow and multiply with some tweaking.
The rest of the videos went by rather quickly as his past self explained less and less, sounding increasingly sad and depressed as time went on. Then the last video appeared.
“Year thirty-five,” his past self sighed as he started the video. “I’m tired of being alone, so I’m leaving for a decade to see what’s out there. There have to be other species to interact with. I told you about those gates I encountered during my biological search. Maybe they will lead somewhere interesting. Maybe not. I have to know, though, so I built myself a ship. I’m not nearly na?ve enough to think that all aliens I might encounter will be friendly, either, so it is armed. The railgun isn’t the most effective weapon, but I spent little time researching or developing infrastructure to build anything more complex, so it’ll have to do. My drone missiles should be able to handle anything else. I guess this is it for now, stranger. When I return, it’ll be interesting to see what the ABMs have researched during my absence, or if anyone has found this place.”
There was no goodbye; the video just cut off there, leaving Alexander reeling slightly, knowing he never made it back. The last video did provide him with some useful information. He now had a good idea of just how long it had been between being damaged and when he was brought to Yuri.
“I was lost for over three hundred years,” he said quietly.
Some part of Alexander already knew that fact, but he never really processed it until just now.
A few years after Alexander woke up on Petrov Station, when he finally had credits to spare, he dug into the captain and crew of the Amophor, the ship that had sold his body to Yuri. They had made a few stops over the months following the sale, which ended at the STO border near the no-man’s zone between Anazi space and the Union. After that, there wasn’t a single record of the ship or any of the crew ever docking anywhere else.
In all likelihood, they had gotten caught by pirates. He supposed it was possible the Union might have captured them, but he thought that was less likely, considering the Union didn’t operate patrols inside the buffer zone unless it was to chase pirates who had entered Union space.
Alexander could think of only one reason why the crew of the Amophor would risk going out to such a dangerous section of space, and that was to recover more alien artifacts. He never got the opportunity to send a scouting mission to verify if there were signs of wreckage from his ship. Soon, that might be unnecessary; the stealth satellites were spreading through that area, and hopefully, they would detect something.
That brought up another point that Alexander hadn’t mentioned to anyone else. If that area of space was where he had come under attack, that meant it was a good possibility that it was the Shican who had attacked him, as there were no signs of any other space capable races between human space and Shican territory.
He certainly didn’t need another reason to hate the furry bastards, but he filed that hypothesis away for later. Right now, he needed to figure out how to combine his engineering knowledge with his former self’s organic growth manufacturing.
He could try to grow a few printers, but he suspected it wouldn’t be that easy. Without access to refined metals and other exotic materials, building a full ship using that process would hit a dead end rather quickly. That was assuming the organic growth medium could even build printers to his specifications. If it could, it would take years to bootstrap enough of a supply chain to make it worth the effort.
Alexander had no plans of spending months, let alone years, stuck on this dead rock while the Shican ravaged human space. That meant he needed to compromise and combine what his former self knew and what he knew now. He would still need to bootstrap some printers to make the non-organic components, but there were already some machines he could work with to make that happen.
He got to work, quickly pulling up a recreation of his modeling software inside his virtual space.
A quick edit allowed the software to work with the knowledge that Rush had left him from before his former self had left the planet.
Then he put his enhanced cognitive abilities to the test. In the real world, his body splashed against the floor as all his concentration was focused on running thousands of simulations at a time, but he didn’t care. Time was currently his greatest enemy, and he wasn’t about to waste a moment just to preserve some dignity.
As always, thanks for reading! And thanks for the support! If you enjoy the story, please rate it and comment below!
