He hesitated a moment, then spoke. I…my mind is trying to figure out what sort of answer you might be expecting from me, he said, almost apologetically. I assume you were thinking about the phalanges hard at work in the mine, and how I might feel about them, as they were once part of me. Do I feel sorry for them having to work through the night, or I do think humans cruel...
I nodded—mostly just to show I was listening. Those were indeed the tactless nuances I’d loaded into my question, and he had seen right through my tactic. He was extremely perceptive, as always—though not this time because he was a Titan. All children were wiser than they looked, not just him. Kids could generally sense when an adult had cunning intentions.
But I don’t think about them in that sense at all, he went on, his tone again apologetic. I’m a Titan, but I do not see the mining phalanges as my brothers, or comrades, or even kin… I don’t think of them as inferior either, though. I don’t even have a solid concept for my own self yet, so I just have no basis for considering them.
I was even more impressed by this astute explanation, especially given what an open-ended question I’d asked. And it was more or less the answer that I should have expected him to give. It was important to remember that Coeus was still in the process of developing his ego, regardless of how far he’d come, and that his sense of “self”—especially in terms of how he was distinct from those around him—remained vague. We could assign him the Titan moniker, and he could recognize that as the category of being he was, but he did not yet feel like one.
I’m sorry…I don’t really feel any sort of way about them.
I shook my head, rebuking this apology. “Not having an opinion about something still counts as an opinion,” I said. His eyes went wide. “I know it sounds oxymoronic. But indifference—whether not having a strong opinion, or not having a fully formed one—is still a feeling. It’s not a non-feeling—it says something about your character, and where you are in life. And being cognizant of that is important. When I ask how you feel about something, and your response is a big rambling explanation as to how you are indifferent… that implies you do feel some sort of way.”
He remained at full attention as he processed the meaning of my words. I felt a bit bad. I could have explained the concept much more succinctly, given the time. Though in my defense, words often fail when it comes to discussions of abstract concepts such as feelings. Unfortunately, words were all Coeus and I had, and it is through words that egos and identities are made.
“Just thinking about things, and experiencing feelings about your thoughts, is important. The more you do that, the more developed a person you’ll become,” I said. “So let’s make a focused effort to feel all sorts of ways about anything and everything we encounter on this journey. Okay?”
We stood there for a time, just watching the mineshaft lights waver in the night.
Yeah, Coeus eventually said. Yeah, okay.
4
“But while that process did cause us to suffer a minor setback during our crossing of the Vries Strait, we’ve been proceeding according to schedule ever since. We’re currently about 2.1 percent behind, and should be able to make up the difference. And you’re still not saying anything. You really couldn’t care less about any of this, could you?”
My contempt for the man twiddling his thumbs on the other end of the holofield could not be greater. In a separate communication window, Lei and Professor Beckmann tried to awkwardly laugh off my antagonization, but Narain still seemed utterly unfazed.
“We’re fully aware of the situation,” he said. “No need for you to explain it to us. And yes, I’ve got nothing to say to you about it at this time.”
“Whatever you say, buddy.”
“No, I’m not your buddy. I’m your superior. You call me ‘sir’ or nothing at all.”
“Oh, I don’t believe you’re my superior anymore, pal,” I snapped back. I was right—we’d all been given new job titles during the transition from our previous Second Intelligence Base work to this new Titan traversal plan. I was now the “Second Intelligence Traversal Manager,” and Narain was now the “Twelfth Intelligence Autonomy Preparations Coordinator,” meaning we were not even on the same organizational chart. “Furthermore, I still find it extremely peculiar that anyone should be made to use compulsory terms of address due solely to rank. Respect is earned, not dictated. Which is why I address Professor Beckmann using his academic prefix and am naturally inclined to use more respectful language with him. I feel no such inclination when speaking to boors such as you or Lei. If you’re offended by that, consider adjusting your behavior in such a way as to encourage respectful discourse. Buddy.”
“Ouch, doc,” said Lei. “A little harsh, dontcha think?”
“It’s not harsh at all. If you don’t like it, you need only carry yourself in a way that’s more deserving of respect.”
“Think I’ll pass,” said Narain, visibly annoyed. “Continue calling me petty nicknames, see if I care. Now, your report on Coeus. Proceed.”
“He’s fine, thanks for asking.”
“Come on. Need a bit more detail than that. Updating us with qualitative observations is literally in your job description.”
He was right, of course. I set aside my pettiness and regained my professionalism.
“We’ve been in constant communication throughout our journey thus far,” I said. “It’s been both a continuation of the therapeutic counseling regimen I’d been giving him, and a sort of probing back-and-forth dialogue to help him cultivate a better understanding of who he is as a person. Also, he drew me a picture yesterday.”
“A picture?” said Narain.
“Just a little sketch of the nearby coastline. Though I’m sure you’ll probably tell me not to let him waste valuable energy on such pointless endeavors.”
“Not at all,” said Narain, expressionless. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”
This struck me as surprisingly tolerant, coming from the man who’d demanded an explanation as to why I had once taken a single photograph of Coeus. Not that I would change my methodology even if he had demanded I put a stop to such things.
“What about over on your end?” I asked. “How’s Phoebe?”
“So far, so good,” said Narain.
“Need a bit more detail than that.”
“She’s trying to figure out what to wear for their meeting.”
A camera feed appeared on the holofield. A clear blue sky and calm ocean waters beneath. In the background, a mist-capped mountain ridge could be seen. The caption on the feed informed me that I was looking at the San Francisco Bay. But in the center of all this nature stood a massive sphere, suspended high in the air on several massive pillar-like legs jutting up from the ocean. It looked a lot like the Second Intelligence Base’s Electrode but was ten times the size; the only other notable difference between the two was that through the shifting white and transparent splotches, a slightly smaller, fully enclosed interior orb could be seen. And this orb was a solid light gray.
“Feast your eyes on the Twelfth Intelligence Base,” said Narain. “Unlike the Second, all the AI hardware’s situated above ground here. If you look close, you can see the inner housing sphere for the Titan itself, surrounded on all sides by an outer energy production layer that’s constantly providing it with electricity. It’s a more modern design that cuts out the middleman, combining the generator with the AI itself.”
“So you’re saying that Phoebe’s…” I began, and the video feed switched over to a new image, preempting my question. It showed me a cross section view of the spherical base, where, like a baby bird waiting to be hatched, a humanoid figure hugged its knees to its chest inside this hollow inner shell.
“Correct. She’s still inside,” said Narain. “She hasn’t got an exoskeleton like Coeus yet. She’s currently in the process of deciding what form she’d like her ‘outfit’ to take. Once she’s settled on one, she’ll construct it for herself within the housing sphere. Only after she feels ‘presentable’ will she finally come out of her shell.”
“You mean she won’t just be using the same armor Coeus came up with?”
“Well, she’s not a little boy. I’d assume she’s a bit more fussy about her appearance, and wants something more elegant and refined.”
“Oh, so you think this is somehow a gendered behavior…”
“Maybe not. But I can tell you that Phoebe, at least, was very adamant that we give her sufficient time to play dress-up.”