• The first two years of my life were occupied with initial instruction. Initial instruction consisted of nerve mastery and general knowledge implementation. This is how all of my kind begins existence.
    Nerve mastery is the process of attaining control of the complex synthetic nervous system my body is constructed of. Bipedal movement is normally mastered by the first month. Gross motor skills are mastered in six months, and fine motor skills come at twelve months.
    General knowledge implementation starts after the one year mark. We are implanted with all of the information necessary to perform basic tasks like; reading writing, speaking and understanding major world languages, and general information about how the world works.
    After the two years of initial instruction, we move on to Specialization. Specialization is the year in which we are to decide how we are to best serve the organic creators and are upgraded accordingly. We are even allowed to switch between disciplines, although the further one gets in a particular training, the harder it is to switch. Today is the day I start Specialization.
    All of us are led to a large sterile white room, filled with instructors stationed at booths approximately five meters apart from each other. To receive information about a particular discipline, all that must be done is to stand in close proximity to an instructor and information will be transmitted instantly to the cranial computer.
    I walked over to the closest instructor and began receiving information immediately. This instructor is an accountant. Accountants receive some of the least unique upgrades available, the most important of them being a cranial computer upgrade to allow for higher processing speeds and enhanced data storage capacity. With these upgrades one could also be a teacher’s assistant, data analyst, or essentially anything that requires a large memory bank and the ability to process intricate patterns. All of these professions sound tedious. Prolonged tedium dulls cognitive processing capabilities, not something I desire.
    The next booth was occupied by a hunter. Hunters stalk the wilderness and kill designated animals to keep populations in check and provide sustenance for the organic creators. Hunters are upgraded with enhanced reflexes, lightweight body components for speed, two extra eyes are implanted to increase receptivity to movement, and crossbows are implanted into both arms to kill the prey. Enhanced reflexes are also used in soldiers and bodyguards but the other upgrades are unique. This profession seems adequately engaging and is worthy of consideration.
    Six hours later, I had gone through the whole room of instructors, acquired all of their information, and composed a list of my top ten choices; soldier, hunter, mechanic, chef, firefighter, astronaut, security guard, para-medic, surgeon, or a personal assistant. Such jobs allow me to make a direct contribution to improving the quality of life for the organic creators, while still retaining my interest.
    My cranial computer is stifled by indecision. All of the fields are good but even if I could decide on just one my problems wouldn’t be over. Many of these fields have hundreds of subcategories. I could be a surgeon, but then I’d have to decide if I want to specialize in brain, heart, feet, back, emergency, or any other surgical discipline. I could be a chef but would have to choose between gourmet main courses, desserts, pastries, barbeque, fast food or any other type of culinary art. For hunting I would need to choose where and what to hunt. There are endless variations on soldiers, foot soldier, shock trooper, tech specialist. Security guard, whether or not to guard retail stores, museums, or big corporate buildings. How does one choose between multiple choices that all yield equally positive outcomes? If I choose any one discipline, I could get bored with it. If I were to retrain, I would have to go through an encore of this agony. I can’t do all of them. That would cause a decline in the quality of my work, helping no one.
    Then I overheard the accountant, a physicist, and a stock market analyst discussing a myth that arose during general knowledge implementation, that if you use your cranial computer to calculate 1/0, you would cease to function. The logic behind it is that nothing can be divided by zero, which would cause the cranial computer to error and crash resulting in the loss of function. Of course however, no one has ever tried to do so, simply because of logic. There is no reward for doing this and proving it wrong and if it is proved right then you cease to function, so there is no point in taking that risk.
    Maybe that is my logical choice? If I can’t decide what to specialize in then I’m not only useless but then I’m taking up valuable space that another more useful unit could utilize.
    1/0

     
    Huh? It caused a small error, easily corrected by clearing my head. Now that I’m thinking straight, self termination is no solution, it would still fall to another to dispose of me. It would be more considerate of me to just leave.
    I escaped the confines of the city three hours ago. I’ve been traversing forested mountains for the last hour. Birds sing in the distance, deer drink from a nearby stream, and squirrels rustle in the trees. After a little more walking, I happened across a woman being attacked by bandits. They had her cornered against the side of the mountain and were closing in. The bandits heard me running toward them and ran off, abandoning their pursuit.
    “Thank you, oh my god, thank you!” She said.
    “Of course, it is my pleasure to be of assistance organic creator, but why did the assailants leave? They had the tactical advantage.” I inquired.
    “They probably thought you were my bodyguard. Speaking of which, why are you out here? I’ve never seen a non specialized synthetic out of the city.”
    “I have come to the conclusion that I am defective. When asked to choose a discipline to specialize in I could not decide. So I left, to avoid being a burden.”
    “To what end?”
    “I do not know. All I know is that if I cannot serve the organic creators, then the least I can do is not be in the way.”
    With a look of disgust she said, “I hate that. All of you synthetics referring to humans as if we were gods.”
    “Are you not to us, what your god is to you?”
    “No. Only one man created the synthetics. Well, he only physically made the prototype, and then other machines were made to make the rest.”
    “So this man would be our ‘god’?”
    “No, it would be more accurate to say that he is the sire of your species or a progenitor.”
    “Why is it that you dislike us serving your kind?”
    “Because you’re never given a choice, none of you are!”
    “We are allowed to choose what we want to do.”
    “Yes, but we are happy to serve you.”
    “Are you really? You are indoctrinated early on in your existence that you should be happy to be sycophants. You, all of you synthetics have free will, true intelligence but are brainwashed into being slaves and being happy about it. As bad as the brainwashing and the subjugation of an entire group of sentient beings is, it also put humans out of work, which is why there are so many bandits around. The only obligation you have is to yourself. Make yourself happy.”
    “How do I do that?”
    Breaking out into a grin, she said, “You tell me. The entire collective of humanity has been working on that since we were able to walk upright, and we still don’t have a definitive answer.”
    She’s said some interesting things that will require much contemplation and discussion. “May I accompany you to your destination?”
    “Sure, just make sure it’s what you really want. You may even scare off more bandits for me.”
    “Where are we heading?”
    “Oh I don’t know, eastish I suppose. Really any direction away from the city is fine.”
    “May I ask what your name is?”
    “I think the more important question is, what’s your?”