Caretakers 2.0

Spark

Tobias

Spark swirled all around me and I watched, entranced. I saw it move in great rivers across the park under the moonlight and I laughed as it tickled past. The sound of my own voice seemed loud in my ears, but I didn't care. I was overjoyed with how simple it was to swipe a hand through the electric stardust and hold it in my palm to coalesce into a swirling mass of white lightening and blue cloud. It was so easy! Why isn't it this easy?

The alarm chime woke me and I blinked, trying to clear away the dream. I'd been having it off and on for months now. Funny, I didn't remember dreaming before I was changed.

I sat, swinging my bare feet off the sleeping platform onto the even barer floor. Maybe I should get a rug. People have rugs, right? Is that the thing to do now?

I heaved my body up. I was weary. Not in a physical way. No, my mechanics were running exactly as they should. I was emotionally tired. Learning a new existence was draining and my new-found feelings felt raw and unfamiliar. I desperately wished for a mentor, as I did every morning for the last several weeks. It had become part of my routine as was the inevitable acceptance of the fact I only had memories and videos to learn from.

When I was ready, I left my apartment, turned away from the elevator, and walked down the six flights of stairs to the ground floor to conserve energy. From there, it was a short trek to the park and the rising sun. Today, the pre-dawn skies hosted red and pink clouds against a bright wash of orange; a change in the weather was coming. I bet myself that it would be raining before sunset.

I sat on my customary bench and closed my eyes, recalling the dream and how much I felt a part of the spark, part of the flow. I was still contemplating the experience when I heard familiar barking in the distance.

When it had become clear that the Caretakers' reproductive efforts were failing, for reasons I didn't know, they'd stopped allowing their pets to breed, too. It would have been cruel to turn out pampered house pets into the wild after all the Caretakers died, so they attempted to ensure the pets that did exist would live their lives, but thereafter, no more would be bred unless deliberately renewed from frozen genetic stock.

I paused. Why do artificial insemination and surrogacy only work with animals? I wondered. Why wouldn't that work with the Caretakers? I couldn't fathom the answers, mostly because I lacked a great deal of information, but something about the process simply did not translate.

I was pulled out of my reverie by a big head with floppy ears and a wet nose plonking itself in my lap. I laughed as I playfully petted the silly Labrador named Rex. I was surrounded by a small gathering of the last remaining cats and dogs as I sat in the coming sunshine on the park bench, starting my day by throwing several balls for fetch and scratching a few purring ears. The animals were, mostly, content with their attendants, since the Caretakers had used them when they were alive, but I could tell a few of them really missed their former owners.

The goofy German Shepard called Brownie barked, dancing in front of me as he and Rex waited for the balls to be thrown. I took one from an attendant and threw it for them and they sped off after it in a chorus of happy yips. I ran my hand down the back of Cinder, a Tortie cat curling up in my lab. She gave an appreciative meow and seemed to understand she'd be jostled a bit for the dogs' benefit. She snuggled on me anyway and I buried my fingers in her fur while I waited for one of the boys to bring back the ball. I had decided that, should I need to shut down more of the city, the pet attendants would be the last. In the meantime, I would throw a ball or four, scratch under a chin here and there, and make sure they had food to eat. Priorities.

The colorful wispy clouds of the morning cleared as the sun rose, warming the day. I lingered with the animals, enjoying their carefree existence. But, I finally placed Cinder on the park bench next to me and gave Rex and Brownie one more pat each before taking on my duties for the day. I meandered across the park and up the next block to the power station enjoying the feel of the breeze and the growing warmth of the late summer air.

I spied the building long before I reached it, of course, and when I did, I paused and craned my neck to look it over. Two stories and brick, it managed to be both plain and regal at the same time. There were no signs or placards denoting its purpose. I suppose that everyone had simply learned at an early age what it was for. Even so, to be the foundation of civilization as we knew it, one might have thought a meager billboard would have been allowed.

Regardless of the Caretaker's choices, it was practically my second home; I visited each day and stayed more hours than I cared to admit, yet I knew exactly how many had passed. Three hundred and thirty-two hours and twenty-four minutes... and I'm still a failure. I rubbed my chest, the sensation comforting. The task was daunting. "Learn to gather spark," Adrianna had instructed. I was struggling to step into the role she had been certain I could fill.

Resolve renewed, I set my jaw, squared my shoulders, and stepped toward the entrance. When the doors automatically slid open, the building's attendance rolled toward me.

"Bob! Good morning," I said in greeting. Why I'd named him Bob was a mystery. It just seemed to fit with the way his head bobbed politely as he talked. He was programmed to have more interaction than many attendant-level robots.

"Tobias. Good morning. Going to the core again today?"

"Yes, afraid so."

"Still no progress, then?"

"Not yet. Maybe today!"

He nodded, an quick, eager motion. "Yes! Maybe today. May I show you the way or would you rather locate the core yourself?"

I smiled and inclined my head. "Thank you, but I think I know the way by now. Please catch my attention should anything arise."

"Of course, Tobias. It would be my pleasure."

I left him in the foyer as I descended several floors into the earth under the building, emerging from the elevator into the outer chamber of the core's room. There was no denying it; the atmosphere of defeat was oppressive, but I was close, I was sure. I wished, again, for an instructional video of some kind, but learning how to do this had been an oral tradition, and then that was from a hundred years ago when the last baby was born.

I entered the core's room and checked the level of thick blue cosmic liquid in the tank. I was lower than I liked. I needed to get this right soon. I raised my right arm and began the scooping motion. I felt the spark coalesce from the air into my palm, and I pulled it toward my left hand. The crackling blue energy pooled in place for a split second before disappearing with a pop. I dropped my arms and seethed, rubbing my chest. I wanted to throw a tantrum; in the first days, before I was more familiar with emotions, I had. But it did no good. So, I counted until the feeling had subsided enough to try again.

What am I doing wrong? I reviewed my progress, as I did every time, and could discern nothing. A few weeks ago, I had a breakthrough when I realized I was sensing the spark around me not with my synth skin but with my circuitry. That knowledge had allowed me to adust and, finally, gather spark. But now, I had a second problem: getting it to coalesce into the correct form of spark, the kind the core needed to be replenished.

Maybe I'm thinking about this too much? I dropped into a chair and leaned forward, placing my elbows on my knees. If I was capable of headaches, I was sure I'd have one.

I studied my left hand. Maybe instead of categorizing what it had, I needed to focus on what it didn't. I was able to interact with the spark with my right but not hold it with my left. What made the two hands different?

Most of the Caretakers had been right-handed. They had made the robots to be, too. So, I had sensors and transmitters in the left I didn't have in my right. Hmm... since it was circuitry that made the difference in gathering spark, could it also make a difference in holding it?

I tried something new. I began to gather spark with my right hand. It came easily. I scooped it toward my left hand. It rested there, a small storm in my hand...

And it stayed.

~

Author's Discussion: It seems Tobias might have stumbled on to how to create spark! How do you think he feels at this moment?