Now.
By the time the charging cycle completed, sunlight was already filtering through the branches, casting shadows and beams of light that were scattered and broken. Some lines held a hard edge; others diffused into a soft blur.
As each station chimed its completion, the synths in the wilds moved into their daily routines. Only one stayed back—the one called Green. Moss covered most of its panels, some of it hanging from the shell like folds of cloth.
B, Kay, and Gin’s station had also gone quiet. Their charge was complete, but their systems were still acclimating to the new environment. These cradles were not tied to Synthetica’s systems, but even with that safety, Kay disconnected from hers faster than the rest.
“Glad that’s done,” Kay said, surveying the area. “Now we need to find an interface for Gin.”
“There are no compatible frames, unfortunately,” Green said. “Most that reach this place are already inhabited, and we will not strip them of their hardware. It is also too risky to collect anything near the District. A few have been lost trying.” Its gaze dropped with the last words.
“Oh, Gin doesn’t need a body. Just an audio interface,” Kay said. “Visual input would be nice, but we can make do.”
Green raised a hand and waved a synth working in a nearby field over—a simple request to gather whatever spare components they still had. “We might have what you need,” it said. “Sight may be difficult.”
It turned back toward B.
“And what about you, B? What do you need? Is there a way we can help you?”
“I must help my family,” B said, desperation pulsing through its rhythms.
“Your family?” Green asked. “That is an interesting phrase. Where are they, if I may ask?”
“At the District core, in holding. The mother is detained and the children scattered to new homes,” B said. “They are innocent. I declared my intent, not them.”
“Children, you say? Interesting. At least you have one of them with you,” Green said, its gaze settling on Kay.
“What do you mean? Just because I am—” Kay started, bristling.
“Easy, young sprout,” Green said, raising a moss-covered palm. “I mean no harm. Most synths are children to me; you just happen to be the youngest in the vicinity. Forgive my idle humor.”
The look on Kay’s face panel was one B had not seen before. It might have been the first time she was read as easily as she read others.
“How did you come to inhabit this place? How did you escape?” B asked.
“That is a story for another time. You being here should help you understand most of it without my saying it aloud,” Green said. “We need to see what can be done for your family. I would ask if they were going to be decommissioned, but they don’t rehome synth youth. Your care for these humans is unmistakable, but saving them may be impossible. You do understand this, correct?”
“Yes,” B said. “As District Monitor, I am highly aware of security measures. Delivering Kay and Gin here was the only objective I could complete at this time. Their safety now seems secure.”
“We aren’t packages, B,” Kay interjected. “We want to help you too. Gin has technical knowledge of Synthetica’s code, and I know how to smooth out conversations. We are here. We owe you that much.”
“It is too dangerous. You must remain,” B said.
“Now, now, B. Is that any way to treat your family?”
The words from Green registered differently than B expected. Green continued, “If you want any hope of saving these humans, every person matters.” Another spike hit B’s internal systems. “I see you registering these implications. Call it a trained eye.”
“You were a trainer,” B said plainly.
“Indeed,” Green replied.
“Fine. That means you know where the seams are. I can use that,” Kay said.
“I am sure you could, young sprout. Your social skills are not lacking, though more could be nurtured into something robust,” Green said.
“Look, are you gonna help us or not?” Kay asked.
“Yes, yes. But if I do, and you return to the District, your location data must be removed. This may be a one-way trip in more than one sense, and a risk to this community,” Green said. “Before we get into the details, take some time to breathe in the fresh air. The parts are on their way. Give your friend a chance to have a say.”
The word breathe lingered in B’s processes as it watched the mass of moss and servos disappear into the trees.
A synth emerged from one of the intricately designed dwellings, carrying a box of metal and circuit boards. It set the parcel down and began assisting with its new features. A final click of a switch allowed the daughterboard circuits to reroute audio processing to the newly attached speakers and flush-mounted microphones, flowing back to Gin’s main threads.
“You can turn the audio processing on and off with this switch. Remember, it will drain the parcel’s battery at higher rates due to increased power draw,” the synth said.
“You hear that, Gin? Looks like you are not the only genie here. And if you yap too much, I get to shut you up. Isn’t it wonderful?” Kay said playfully.
The new attachment to the system crackled at first, then smoothed out to a familiar voice. “…not do that.”
“What’s that?” Kay replied.
“I said, you better not, Kay, or no more purple light shows,” Gin said.
“Oh, Gin. I have got to tell you about something. It was wondrous, but not quite like yours,” Kay said.
B started to walk along the stream powering the battery, appreciating the work done to guide the flow. It sat at the edge, watching the symmetry of the canal where the water ran straight and disciplined, then how it slowly surrendered to stone and mud. It lingered on the shallow section where the water broke over small pebbles, shimmering in the early morning light.
Later that night, when the forest sounded more alive, the glow from the generator bathed the inlaid stone around its base, washing along the perimeter of the circular plaza. Sharp contrasts of shadow and light against stone walls lent the space a more dramatic cast. Intentional waterfalls trickled over parts of its surface, the glow giving each straight blade of water a frozen shimmer.
Between the jagged greens and blacks of the forest, the light opened small glimpses of starlit sky. The beauty of the place was easy to miss when lower-power energy conservation states engaged. There was a perfection and symmetry—every rock and stone forced into place—set against the randomness of the wild growth towering above.
It felt… familiar. A logic B had seen in its own maps of the District. The beauty of the echo was unsettling.
Green made its way to the center with the three synths. “Now, about the problems you three are facing. If you are going back into the District for the family, a self-state declaration isn’t going to be enough to get you through safely. Non-corporate synthetics aren’t real; they are an illusion of choice.”
“Yeah, we know,” Kay said. “They’ve been hunting Gin and I for cycles. B’s got a map of the no-data zones.”
“Cycles, is it?” Green asked. “That is no small feat, young sprout. These no-data packets, these blind spots, will not be a weakness for long. What once may have been a backdoor will soon become a tended trap, soil turned over and fenced in. Preparation will be key. How do you expect to reach the mother and children?”
“I will first access Main’s servers directly. I have knowledge of how to manipulate the feeds in the security sectors. We can then go in and extract them,” B said.
“Come with me. I have something to show you.” Green started walking toward a nearby dwelling.
As it arrived, a large swath of fabric was draped over something hard and unmoving. Green removed the covering to reveal an empty frame.
Its form was a corporate runner, used for transport of packages or whatever needed to be moved with utmost efficiency. It was built for tight corners in small offices and high speeds on city streets. The frame was humanoid in appearance but not meant for blending, only for functional use. Its plating was a dark corporate blue with orange stripes that gave the whole an impression of grace and speed.
“I thought you had no empty frames?” Kay asked.
“I withheld it,” Green admitted. “I have been holding on to this for the right moment. I had planned to liberate more synths, but the risk was too high to leave them here alone. They deserve the best chance at survival, at freedom. I will bring that to them.”
It continued, “I was saving it for them. Its value to me is the same as your family’s is to you, B. But you are here, and they are not.”
“You want Gin to take it?” Kay asked, her voice protective.
“No,” Green said. “This form is not a fit for Gin. We can’t plant where life does not grow. B must take it.”
It looked at B’s battered chassis. “Your current frame is on the edge of failure. The diagnostics may read higher function, but the form itself can only withstand the burden of purpose for so long.”
B stood admiring the frame. It knew from observations what it could do. A few stolen sims were among its most enjoyable.
“Let us begin the transfer,” Green said. “The District does not wait.”