The Bridge | Bots 'R Us

Chapter 18 | Seed of Dissent

HILO COUNCIL
30 APRIL 634 - 19:00 HOURS
MEANWHILE, IN HAWAII

Eastward, Simone was preparing her answer to the double-blow the Theists had inflicted on the Council System in less than twenty-four hours: the attack on David, followed by some coronation. Westward, the fascist Czarist gang was on its way to assert its power in the heart of Europe. Meanwhile, Tomiko was pushing my little voice box on its creaky cart on our way to the much-anticipated lab where the Humanists could fulfill their promise to give me a body. The long musty tunnels gave me ample time to replay the Nigorvsky circus in my mind. If only I could access my memories in Gossamer, I thought. Maybe I could find something someone told me during a security briefing about this lunatic. I remembered noticing that name, "Prince Nigorvsky," in a list of rebel warlords. I may have even scoffed, thinking of that Russian Councilor of my early years before The Bridge. In hindsight, it should have rung an alarm bell. Blame it on complacency for not even checking that detail when I had the chance. We had defeated the Transcendents with all their technology and resources. I couldn't care less for this little gangster sprung out of the Siberian mud. And here we were, with a Czar problem!

Still a prisoner of my orb, I dug my confined mind for anything I could pull out of my five-hundred-year history—and surprisingly found more than I believed could fit in that little metallic ball of mine. What mattered was not that Nicolaï descended from Councilor Vladimir Nigorvsky or claimed a fake lineage. In any case, he revived a name that reignited the spirit of the first rebellion against The Bridge.

History is full of characters like Councilor Nigorvsky. Bloody tyrants that sold lies to their people for their own aggrandizement. Vladimir died a martyr, revered to this day by a vast majority of Originals for how he undermined our system. In reality, he is responsible for the death of hundreds of millions of his followers across the globe. In his people's alternate world, we, Andros, were the only reason for their misery and death. The truth is, it's impossible to explain to Originals twenty-generation or so removed from the start of The Bridge that the rest of humanity had chosen to trade their bodies for the sake of the environment while their ancestors had sealed a path of suffering when they rejected our solution.

From the other side of our virtual fences, they saw clean and beautiful lands controlled by ancient human-like machines—us. I understand their rage when they knew that their children could thrive on our side instead of fighting for survival in their desolate territory.

I wished I could be with Simone to look back at when our citizens split ways, explore the archives, and follow the threads. We could probably get an idea of the Theists' next moves once they played their cards in the open. I wondered if Simone worried about that, too, or if she cared more about finding me. I hoped she could figure out how threatening this new Czar was and how the Councils would resist.

I could remember when Councilor Nigorvsky came back to the Bridge implementation roundtables, months after he had abruptly signed off from that pivotal Washington City Consultation when Sam Wong introduced our android solution to clean up the planet. After the citizens had approved the program, he was back to extract faith-based exemptions for his followers. It was morning, a few months into the new year. Councilor Chavez called me to her office to discuss for the first time what would become the Independent Territory Treaty of 135.

"David, would you please look at these hinterland maps we asked GINI to regroup on last week," she said. "Do you think some of those could work as, let's say, 'independent territories'?" I looked at the map floating above her desk, and it struck me: Those outlines looked like the carved-out lands where our ancestors had shoved Native Americans.

"'Independent Territories,' is that your euphemism for reservations, Councilor, really?" I remember asking her in return, shaken.

"You and your big words, David!"