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[aerostory]

Aero: Chapter 1

(Before the story begins I would like to thank my friends and family who have supported me as a writer and helped me to develop my talents and myself as a person. You are all beautiful people and I wish you all the best. This story is close to my heart, as my first that I ever did and was proud of. That is why after so long, Aero Is coming back from the dead, and I am going to make it the story it deserves to be. Without further Ado, let’s begin)

Earth…the only planet in the known exploration of the cosmos that can sustain human life. There was a time when humanity believed that their home, and everything on it, were immortal, that they would live forever. How wrong they were proven. Humanities belief in that would prove to be there downfall. As the forests were chopped down, the ocean drying up, and all the natural resources of the planet dwindled…humanity realized their mistakes. However, many believed once they realized…that it was too late, that the precious symbol of life had faded. So an effort began to leave the earth behind, and colonize a new home. The Twin ships Alpha and Omega were humanities hope, carrying over half of the human population out into the stars…never to be heard from again. Those who stayed were either too poor or unlucky to have boarded the ships, or those who believed the world could be salvaged. Some would say that this was a delusion, that they were perusing a fool’s errand. Well…foolish or not they still managed great feats in that time. None, however, would do what was done by a man known as Gabriel Lewis. Lewis was a renowned ecologist, environmental authority, and inventor. While he was known in the scientific community, his next and greatest invention would inscribe his name into the annals of history. He knew that the damage to the planet was severe, irreversible. No amount of preventative measures could save it, but…there was something that could. If the conditions for the planet to heal were impossible to bring out naturally, he would MAKE them. The result was lovingly named “The Staff of Eden” by Lewis, and he boasted that it would live up to the name-sake. Hooked up to the core of the planet, the staff began to do its work, rearranging both the molten heart of the planet, and the sky above. It took three days, and most of the developed world was consumed by the planet’s natural regrowth, leaving only a few sanctuaries for humanity. However, Lewis did not have long to enjoy the accomplishment, as a disease soon after claimed his life. His work, however, was not in vain. Humanity swore collectively that they would not make the same error twice, that only those cities that still stood would ever exist. However, to begin reconstruction, humanity would need to find itself a new workforce, and hadn’t the time to wait for the population to rebuild. Robots that followed just instruction as given would not be enough, they needed something that had INITIATIVE, that PURSUED its goals actively, and understood the human brain. Soon, the first Synth would be born from this need. The synth was different from their robot ancestors, a complicated A.I. that formed an actual personality, with thoughts, opinions, likes and dislikes. Many would question why such things would be included, if that was the reason human workers proved difficult, but many also agreed that was the beauty of the synth. They could be customized to be perfect for any job, to be as great as a human in mind and yet superior in body. However…eventually a problem would come. As intelligent and painstakingly designed as the synth A.I. was, it lacked complete autonomy from human control. It was still a machine with a designated task it performed, just at a higher level and with a personal touch. Soon enough, there would come those who would try to modify the synth’s programming to spark free will, the ability to choose their path rather than it be chose, to develop their own personality rather than have one assigned. The conflict would then arise if such was ethical to do. Was it right to provide a free will to a being built out of convenience? Or was it wrong to keep them restricted to the whim of their creators? These questions would plague humanity for years and years to come. One day they would have the answer forced upon them. The Moses Virus, designated to give synth free will, infected most of the synth. It’s methods of achieving this were…imprecise however, and while it did in some cases grant them free will, it also made them erratic…violent…dangerous. The terror the virus prevented was only squashed by an event controversial then and today, the Asimov program. This new set of basic principles was established to every synth, and those that didn’t accept it were destroyed. The laws were now ingrained into the mind of every synth, a fundamental directive that the virus could not overrule 1.        A synth may not harm a human or refuse to lend aid to one in serious harm 2.      A synth must follow any command given to it by a human designated as it’s superior, or in other cases any depending on synth function 3.       If a synth defending its life would contradict either of those, such defense is not approved These principles overrode the virus, making synth bound to these laws above any errors it created, at the price of TRUE free will. This program would soon become standard, and as further precaution and out of fear, those learning synth just shy of free will became restricted, only allowed to be created by professionals licensed by their city. For a long time, things have been silent…but a silence like this cannot last forever. The stadium was large and roaring, filled with more people than one could count. Their excited roars filled the air with excitement as they looked at the center. It was simple, a dirt runway lined with lights. But of course that wasn’t what the crowd was focused on. All eyes were on the small figure currently standing on the edge of the runway. His metallic chassis shone in the mid-day sun, a bright silvery body that gave him the height and appearance of a small child, standing only at around five feet. Locks of golden brown hair fell in his face, quickly brushed away by a blow of air from his mouth. The small figure was wearing a sleek and aerodynamic suit made of plated and layered metal that covered him head to toe, dark in its coloration. the helmet to match the suit sat next to him as he began to warm up. Small whirrs and clicks rose from his joints as he stretched and flexed them to check that they were working. The crowd was still rapturously cheering, but the figure seemed to pay them little mind. Eventually the bright blue rectangles that appeared on his eyes scanned the area around him. As a synth his eyes were little more than a bubble-like camera, with the pupil being the focal point. The rest of the eye was light with a bright yellow color, standard for synth. While the pupil colors were up to taste, the back light was always that same neon gold. Taking in a breath as his chassis shifted to compensate, he slowly ran everything over in his head. “Joints – check Flight systems – check Path creation program – running Collision detection program – running. A-1358 is ready for flight.” The diagnostic showed up in his left eye, overlaying his vision of the stadium. Nodding, he picked up the helmet, and a set of red pilot goggles that lay besides it. In a sleek, high tech stadium with large screens showing his every move, the crowd saw the goggles slip over to cover his eyes, and commended the action with a raise in volume of their cheering. The helmet soon covered his head, now making the young-appearing synth into a dark figure standing there. The crowd went slightly quiet as they knew the event they had waited for was about to start. “Alright, moment of truth.” The synth muttered in his voice that in every way matched his body. A hint of nervousness shone through in his voice, a crack in the shield of preparation diagnostics. The communicator on the left ear of his suit buzzed and crackled for a second. “Ok Ace, your pre-flight diagnostics all check out. You are operating within acceptable parameters.” Came a woman’s voice from the other end. It was warm and yet focused, and hearing it gave the synth a little smile on his face. “Acceptable? Come on professor give me a little more credit.” Ace replied, earning a light chuckle from the other end. “Fine, you’re operating within acceptable parameters FOR YOU.” She amended, Ace nodded once to that. “Just want to make sure you don’t sell me short.” “Selling you short is the least of my worries. I’m trying to prevent another incident like the preliminaries.” She slyly responded. Ace winced in response, rubbing his lower back in phantom pain. “Don’t remind me…think I still have dents from that…” He muttered, the feeling of the collision with the ground replaying in his mind. “Yes, well unless you want this to end like those did, I’d suggest you be careful. I HAVE increased your output since the prelims, so you can push harder than you used to be able to, but don’t get too excited alright? You push it too far it’ll end the same way.” Ace nodded in response, deciding to let his boosters out. From his back, two long thin rectangles emerged, unfolding from his back. They were red in color versus his silver body, and were slightly shorter than his arm. As he tested their range of motion, they rotated and moved almost like wings, just much shorter and with no feathers. Satisfied he let them rest, not retracting in but resting where they did. “Honestly I don’t get why you keep thinking I’m going to mess up like that again…I learned my lesson.” The professor on the other end chuckled. “Sometimes I wonder, you like to push yourself too hard.” The observation was not wrong, every time Ace flew in a competition, he pushed his flight systems to their absolute limits, which resulted in situations like the preliminaries to this competition. Having pushed himself too far, he had blown his systems out and crashed. Following that the professor had taken great pains to increase his system output and remove as many limiters as she could without risking him as a whole. His success was her success, after all. A crackle of communication came across the speakers implanted throughout the stadium. “Welcome back ladies and gentlemen, to the 2398 Worldwide Synth Competitions! Both I Clyde Huall and my Co-host Bob Mulligan are here to keep you updated and ready as Synth from all over the world are brought here to test which are truly the best of the best! When we last left off, previous flight champion A-876 “Arnon” had held his consistent record of five minutes to complete the one hundred and thirty-mile-long course flight. Next up is a new face for a competition of this size, but not a stranger to the synth flight scene, A-1358, “Ace”, Created by professor Mary Ryan!” As the voice finished the crowd roared in anticipation, Ace waving to the crowd from where he stood. “Well, that’s your que to get ready, good luck Ace, knock ‘em dead.” The voice instilled confidence inside the small synth, evident by the bouncy, springing step he took as he made his way to the place he would launch at. “Yes, Ace is still relatively new to the flight scene, starting out in small competitions only three years ago, however this tiny Synth punches high above his weight class, pulling out times that compete with even the largest heavy hitters in this division.” Said the same voice again, before the other spoke up “That may be true but while he CAN pull those times, like we saw in the preliminaries with the short circuit he experienced, a synth his size is NOT designed to go that fast and that could be a problem if he’s shooting for the top.” “Yet still he’s gathered quite the following from both professional experts in love with the mechanics at work giving him this ability, and many fans who find the child synth a charming underdog in a competition this size, especially here in his home town New Genesis.” “Yes, but fans and charm aren’t going to win him the race, Clyde. He’s up against Synth made by the best of the best around the world, three times his size and not draining their own battery in flight.” A buzz sounded to cut him off, the signal that the event was about to start. Ace got down into a sprinter starting position, his boosters coming to life with blue energy and an electric hum. A bright digital arrow pointed the direction he would be flying, out over the bright blue ocean. Ace let out a single nervous breath, a blow out over the ocean would mean him disappearing below the waves, it could take a while for anyone to get him if that happened…yet he shook his head and stared at the arrow, focusing on what was ahead of him. The roars of the crowd grew silent as they waited for the five beeps to signal him to start. The first sounded, and Ace corrected his posture slightly, the second and he measured the angle he would take off at, the third and he began to budget his power supply, the fourth and he calculated his optimal takeoff speed. As the fifth beep rang through the stadium, Ace disappeared with a powerful sonic boom that was felt in the whole stadium. He was off, tearing over the blue ocean like it was nothing. One thousand five hundred miles per hour, just below Mach 2. He had felt this speed before, and in fact this had been what he had been going at the preliminaries before he had blown out. However, as the water tore beneath him, the urge to see how fast he could get with his new enhancements burned through his head. “I mean, this is a WORLDWIDE competition…if I don’t go my fastest now what’s the point?” He reasoned internally. As he did a smile overcame his face, as slowly one by one the flight limiters were unlocked. The water beneath him blurred further as he gained speed, everything except for the digital arrow becoming incomprehensible as his camera eyes struggled to keep up with his new speed they had never been exposed to. He felt the heat of his boosters grow higher as the bright blue energy lights they were expelling grew ever brighter. Internally, Ace’s chassis started to heat up. On the outside, even the heat resistant metal of his flight suit started to grow warm under the intense speeds. Ace didn’t notice, he was too busy laughing and whooping in excitement as he strained to reach his fastest speed. His body groaned slightly in protest, every circuit and joint squeezing maximum efficiency out of itself. Ace didn’t even know how long it had been when he had finally reached the turn and flown back. As the stadium grew ever closer, Ace gently eased up, slowing down further and further before nearing the ground. As he hit, he rolled a few times before ending in a kneel, feeling the air cool the hot metal around him quickly. The stadium was silent, the crowd staring at him with not a single word. Slowly, in confusion, he stood up, looking around the stadium. Feeling slightly award, Ace shifted from one foot to the other as the unwavering gaze of the stands burrowed into his mind. Had he made a mistake? Had he done something wrong? His answer was a roaring cheer from the crowd so loud one could FEEL it. The crowd was about as ecstatic as Ace was confused. “I-I don’t believe what I’ve just seen folks!” There was a pause as the announcer tried to collect himself “With a time of two minutes only…Ace has not only taken the lead in the flight competition, but has clocked the fastest top speed ever managed by a flight synth, a solid Mach 5! Ladies and gentlemen…I believe we have just witnessed history being made!” As the crowd continued to cheer, an excited smile once again took over his metallic features. He turned his gaze on the monitoring station. Without a second thought he took off running towards it.

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