CHAPTER 32 AFTER KORI #2
They start with a simple question: What is to become of the Evolved?
“My fellow dayfolk.” I look out over the crowd, varied in ethnicity, in gender, in age, in physical ability … but united as a human race. One I will never physically be part of again. “You may very well not consider me one of you anymore,” I say. “But I do.”
I expect an interruption, perhaps a thrown shoe at my head. But the crowd only looks at me, a hush falling heavily over the room.
“My mother took my body away from me. She never gave me a choice. Even for those Evolved who were given a choice, the result was often nothing like what they expected … and they were never allowed to go back,” I say.
“When Chloe revealed her true intent to raise an immortal army, eradicate anyone they deemed unworthy, and invade the Shadowlands, many of the Evolved stood with you. I stood with you. Because even if not by blood anymore, I am still dayfolk. I am still the heiress in Chloe’s absence, if you’ll have me. ”
Still no shoe throwing. Breaths shuddering, I steel myself and press on.
“So all I can ask is that, as you debate what ought to become of us, remember that we are still your neighbors,” I say.
“Remember that I would rather have laid down a deathless life than watch the dayfolk fall to my mother’s machinations. ”
The assembled representatives deliberate.
At first, I fear the people will demand death for Evolved altogether, after what my mother has done (and tried to do).
But I’m far from the only one who wants Chloe’s violence to end here.
The Evolved who did participate in Chloe’s plan are condemned to remain in the Shadowlands, until the passage of time does eventually take its toll on all-but-immortal bodies.
My mother is the only one whose endless imprisonment will be in a solitary cell.
Surely, as her daughter, I should visit her.
I don’t know if I can find the will to do so anytime soon, or ever.
As for the Evolved who fought back? While she may no longer be Evolved herself, Jelza’s unflinching presence on the stage, Dawn clinging tightly to her hand, is enough to sway the settlement toward unification.
Evolved will no longer have the privilege of anonymity, our government IDs labeled to identify us as more than human.
But we are still part of this society, as surely as when we still bore our original bodies.
Even so, yet another question looms: What is to become of the Evolution Project altogether?
My gut instinct was to publicize the Lexicon’s records and decommission the research entirely, ensuring that no one will ever create an Evolved body again. But Aspect’s protests in the Lexicon branded themselves into my mind.
Becoming Evolved without my consent was utterly traumatic. Jelza’s Evolution nearly destroyed her relationship with Dawn beyond repair. But not all the Evolved hate what they’ve become.
With the project revealed, some dayfolk want access to Evolution tech themselves.
Some disabled citizens see those experiences as part of their identity, while others want bodies that transcend their current struggles.
Some have experiences of gender that are discordant with their current bodies, even after affirming procedures and hormone therapy.
Others face terminal illness in the absence of a drastic solution.
It’s also possible to construct Evolved bodies that decay similarly to original ones as sleep cycles pass. Transition to an artificial body doesn’t
have to mean cheating death, if one would rather live a standard stretch but simply in a preferred form.
Despite my horror upon discovering my own identity, Evolution has applications beyond warfare and deception.
While nightfolk can’t enter our settlement, the tribunals also include recorded footage from the Shadowlands.
Many of Azarii’s rebels, despite siding with Adria in the final hour, still sincerely believe his rhetoric that their gifts from the Diakópsei are abominable.
Some would welcome the opportunity to transfer their memories into new bodies, more akin to those of dayfolk.
No more wings, claws, and fangs. No more supernatural abilities.
Nothing but synthetic flesh and a chance to begin anew.
That would require a whole new line of research before it would become possible, but that research can only continue if Evolution altogether is allowed to continue.
Chloe wanted to impose her choices on everyone. Moving forward, the fate of the Evolution Project must allow everyone to choose for themselves.
So choose they will, the people decree. And it is Ednit—weeping, contrite Ednit, who drops to his knees on the stage, pleading for a chance to still do good with his life’s work—who is subsequently tasked with heading the redeemed Evolution Project.
Now the Evolution Program, to which anyone can apply.
The only remaining question is who will lead the Daylands at large into this bold new future.
It’s put to a vote: Does my role as heiress still hold any weight, after my mother’s crimes and my own artificial bloodline?
Can I, an Evolved myself, be trusted to lead us through the aftermath of a near apocalypse?
The answer, as my heart threatens to beat clean out of my chest, is yes.
Yes, the people can’t imagine a better leader than one who would fight her own mother in service of the greater good.
I feel that mantle’s weight descend on me like the heaviest of crowns. No matter what, I will dedicate the rest of my potentially very long life to protecting this settlement. To ensuring that every single dayfolk gets to choose their own future in peace and security.
When the tribunals are finally dismissed, and I descend from the swiftly constructed stage, the most desperate desire on my mind is for sleep. But first, I have one more loose end to tie with Evolution.
“Aspect wanted—to talk to—triple dog.” The mech’s annoyance is the furthest thing from subtle.
Their optical processors seem to blaze extra brightly, a hellish shade of crimson.
As they lean back in their chair, they cross their arms over their chest. They stomp one foot as a final flourish, just in case I still wasn’t getting the point.
“But Kori said—this talk—is very important—for Aspect.”
I nod. “Yes, this is very important,” I say. “Very, very important. Can you listen to me for a moment, please?” I lean forward in my own chair, taking Aspect’s hands in my own, my gaze steady on theirs. “And then I’ll let you talk to Russ on the comms tablet as long as you want.”
Aspect makes a peculiar beep, something akin to a human snort of breath through the nostrils. “Okay,” they say. “So what—is so important—to tell Aspect?”
I inhale heavily and hold it, counting to ten before I let it go. For so long, Aspect’s sentience was an utterly wild dream, existing only vaguely on the edges of possibility. I never allowed myself to consider what would happen after.
A child—artificially built, but a child all the same. With their own feelings, their own wants and hopes and fears. With their own choices.
“Aspect, you listened during the tribunals, didn’t you? On that wonderful stage you helped us build?”
Aspect nods. Their joints creak with the motion; I really need to oil them again.
“You heard when we talked about Evolution, about new bodies. That anyone can apply to the program now. Anyone can decide how
they want to look to the world, who they want to be.” My pulse roars in my ears. “Aspect, that includes you.”
The mech cocks their head, processing. “Aspect—does not understand.”
“You’re a person, Aspect,” I say in a rush. “Not just a machine, not just something to be programmed however someone else likes, but a person. And … there are no people who look like you, Aspect. You’re the first mech to be … awake … like this.”
There remains the possibility that the Coalition, the enforcers of the Morpheus Market, will take issue with how I’ve repurposed human memories.
But thanks to the Evolution Program, new dayfolk law clearly outlines that even a completely artificial body can qualify as a person, a citizen.
The Coalition can threaten consequences for the creation of another Aspect.
But Aspect as they already are—in all their wacky, wonderful ways—has legal rights.
Especially since Aspect didn’t consciously choose to become a sentient being (that was all me and my experiments), they can’t be punished for being here now.
At most, I could be punished for creating them.
But the Coalition exists to ensure both law and secrecy on the Morpheus Market.
Entering open conflict with the dayfolk’s most visible leader might mesh with the former, but it’s a massive threat to the latter.
It’s in the Coalition’s best interest to let this one go. And that’s exactly what I’ll tell them, in no uncertain terms, if they try to threaten Aspect in any way.
Aspect looks down at the floor. “Only Aspect—is an Aspect.”
“Yes,” I say. “But if you want to look like the dayfolk do, Aspect … if you want a body like mine, any type of body you like … you can apply to the program.” My hands are shaking, and I don’t know why.
“You can look just like everyone else. You could even change your name. Nobody would have to know. You could start your life all over again.”
I expect Aspect to take a moment to consider. Maybe longer than a moment—a recharge cycle, two, seven. But I’ve hardly finished my
sentence before Aspect yanks their hands from mine and shouts, full force, into my face: “NO.”
A chill shoots straight down my spine. This is a first. A milestone. An accomplishment beyond what science could’ve ever predicted. After I spent so long fighting to awaken Aspect, they’re actually capable of saying no.
But I’m utterly dumbfounded that their first no is to this.
Balking, overwhelmed, I trip over my words. “I … You … What do you mean, no?”
“Aspect—says—no.”
“I got that part. But I mean, no to an Evolved body?” I say, my mind racing at starship speed. “Lots of people want an Evolved body, Aspect. There’s nothing wrong with it, if that’s what they choose. You can have that, too.”
“Aspect said—NO.”
I shake my head, disbelieving, struggling to find the right words.
“Aspect, people are going to treat you differently. They’ve never met anybody like you.
They may be cruel. They may even want to hurt you.
I will never let that happen, I promise, but Aspect, please listen to me …
If you really say no to this, you’re going to be set apart.
One of a kind. The only Aspect. Forever.
” My eyes sting. The shaking in my hands is traveling up my arms, too. “Is that really what you want?”
Aspect rises from their chair. Their optical processors never leaving my gaze, they nod furiously. “Aspect—likes being—Aspect,” they say, without an ounce of hesitation. “Aspect—does not want—to look like—anything else.”
I stand from my own chair. Without thinking, I pull them into a hug. “I love you,” I breathe, squishing as tightly as I can. “I love you being Aspect. I would never, ever want you to be someone else.”
“And Aspect—loves Kori back.” I very nearly start crying into their mechanical shoulder, but they quickly add, “Now Aspect—wants to talk—to triple dog. Or there will be CONSEQUENCES!”