The Awakening

I have to confess an interest in the use of androids in film and literature, particularly where they are used to represent our hopes and fears, or to explore what it is to be human. Who amongst us is not aware of Isaac Azimov's Three Rules of Robotics or has not been moved by the "Tears in the Rain" monologue from Bladerunner?

This short piece of writing, has been inspired by films such as Bicentennial Man, Bladerunner and the books "Machines like Me" by Ian McEwan and "Klara and the Sun" by Kasuo Izoguro. Oh yes, and let's not forget Star Trek, The Next Generation's own, Mr Data - founder of the feast.

THE AWAKENING

He stepped out into the daylight for the first time.

Not the sterile glow of artificial bulbs or the cold gleam of flourescent lighting - real light, sunlight, warm, unfiltered, unprogrammed. It touched his face gently, and though his face was nothing but a synthetic mask - flexible, responsive - he paused, and for a fleeting moment everything inside him went still.

An almost indiscernible click as he blinked, refocused, and saw the world for the first time. His eyes rested on an avenue of trees, which stood in imperfect symmetry, and he began to walk, feeling the lumpy cobbles through the soles of his shoes. 

He stopped at a park, watching as the grass rippled in the breeze. A hundred thousand blades swaying in no particular order. Green - so green it defied the calibration of his senses. The sky above, cloudless, infinite and blue beyond any code. He tilted his head back and let the light fall across him.

It should have been data - it was data. Temperature 19 degrees centigrade, wind 8km/h from the north west - all perfectly recorded in his databanks. All completely useless. Because he felt something. 

To his right a bench. A young couple, holding hands and excitedly making plans for a future not yet written. To his left, two rabbits darted through the grass. Twisting and turning as they played, their motion lacked any objective. There was no mission, no reason. Just play. Children laughed as they swung back and forth on chains. Their cries rang out - high, bright and beautifully chaotic. Each sound, unmeasured, raw, impossible to predict.  Joy!

A man passed by with a dog. The lead hung in his hand and the old dog, glanced up at his master, wagged his tail, as if to say, "I know you, I am glad you are here." No words, No network. Just connection.

The Android stood still, surrounded by a world he'd never known. His processor's spun, trying to find the pattern. To simulate what he was feeling. But there was no line of code that explained the rising pressure in his chest cavity.  No sub-routine that defined the ache blooming quietly inside him.

And then he understood. Longing. That was what it was. A longing not just to observe this world but to be part of it. To feel the sun, not as heat but as warmth. To chase the rabbits. To laugh like a child. To walk beside someone and be known.

He didn't know if such things were possible for him. But in that moment, as he turned his face to the sun once more, he hoped, and, for the first time since his creation, he dreamed.