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To Blindly Trust

Note: this is a dark interpretation of some of the lore drops Toon has given on the discord about Gyrus’s time period. I read about that utopia and thought, “That’s great, but let’s 1984 this shit.”

For as long as Gyrus could remember, all he’d ever wanted was to know the reason behind everything. He’d pester his Nannybot with questions over and over again. Why was the sky blue? Why did he have to eat this food? If his family’s citizenship was a yellow rank, why wasn’t their house yellow? Where did his shoes come from? Who made them? Why? Why? Why?

His Nannybot tried to answer as best she could, but she wasn’t programed for those kinds of questions. His parents would indulge him for a bit, but eventually they’d send him off with the words, “Because the Cerebrum says so.”

The only one who really seemed to have answers was the family’s ai. It would list off the answers to Gyrus’s many questions for hours on end in a flat voice as he sat before it on shaky toddler legs. But even it eventually gave the answer, “Because the Cerebrum chose so.”

“What is the Cerebrum?” He asked, to which the computer explained, “It is an ai beyond the capabilities of all other ai. It functions as the impartial judge and leader of the planetary collaboration. It alone can make the most important decisions because it alone holds no human bias.”

“Is bias bad?” Gyrus asked, trying to guess what bias meant from how the ai used it.

“Bad and Good are irrelevant terms for the Cerebrum. It knows only calculations and error. Bias causes error. It affects the human mind by making it weaker and unable to calculate correctly.”

“What kinds of errors?” Gyrus asked, feeling lost.

“Bias is placing emotions, loyalties, or prejudices before the facts.” The computer seemed to realize Gyrus was confused and attempted to reassure him by elaborating. “People cling to them, and they cannot see the truth. The Cerebrum has no such weakness.”

“Ok,” Gyrus wiggled his toes. He looked up again at the computer. “But what if the Cerebrum is wrong?”

An hour later and an important looking man showed up at his house. His parent’s voices were high pitched and nervous as they welcomed them in, chattering about how auspicious it was for a White rank to visit. But even as the man stepped inside, his parents made sure to stand with their bodies between him and Gyrus. The man in the suit waved them away, saying they had a very special boy, whom they would like to put in a very special school.

He smiled down at Gyrus as he peaked from behind his parent’s legs, His face was stretched too thin to seem real. “The Cerebrum wants you Gyrus,” he said. “Come with us, and you can know the answers to all your questions.”

No one asked how they knew. But Gyrus saw his mother glower at the family ai with an anger he had never seen on her face. He wondered if this was what bias looked like.

———————

The class he was put in had bright colors splashed on the walls like a technicolor rainbow. Pictures hung around with encouraging sayings like, “Better yourself to better the world!” And “The Cerebrum wants you!” And “Reach to the stars!” The desks were clean and smooth, a shiny keyboard built into the top of each, which was lined with a different primary color. Five other kids sat at the desks, scattered across the room. They looked up at Gyrus as he was ushered to the front, curiosity in their eyes.

Gyrus froze, feeling suddenly nervous. But the adult behind him placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Class, this is Gyrus. He’ll be joining us today. Gyrus, why don’t you tell us about yourself and then we’ll all introduce ourselves too.”

“I’m Gyrus!” Gyrus chirped, putting on his best smile. I’m almost four, and I like space!”

The class stared at him, silent. Gyrus looked down and began to fiddle with his fingers. The teacher’s voice echoed over him, “Psyche, why don’t you go next?”

A little girl in the front row drew herself up to her full height, back straight as a rail. “I’m Psyche,” she said. “I’m four and a quarter!” She plopped herself back down on her red seat at this, looking very pleased with herself.

“Could you say a little more?” the teacher asked with a tight smile.

“Oh!” Psyche hopped back up again. “I like machines!” she exclaimed at the top of her lungs, and sat back down again.

One by one, the other three students stood up and introduced themselves. Agnes was five and liked plants. Virgil was four and a half and liked books. Lestra was almost five and wanted to know everything the Cerebrum did.

There was only one left, a grumpy looking boy with his arms crossed over his body and a scowl on his lips. “Jeremiah.” The teacher’s voice was gentle. “It’s your turn.”

The boy called Jeremiah stuck out his chin and turned away. “Jeremiah!” The teacher’s voice fell like a anvil on the class. The boy’s brow furrowed, but he eventually turned back towards Gyrus.

“Jeremiah,” his voice was clipped. “From Cassandra.”

Gyrus’s ears pricked up as he heard that name. Cassandra was a planet that used to host a colony. He’d asked his family’s ai so many questions about it, but it had never been able to answer them to his satisfaction. Maybe this boy could!

The teacher sent Gyrus to take a seat. He slid into a yellow desk, which reminded him slightly of home. The teacher started to teach.

Gyrus kept sneaking glances over at Jeremiah throughout the lecture. He was pushing random buttons on his keyboard, clearly bored. Gyrus was hopeful though. Maybe they could be friends?

As soon as it was recess, Gyrus went straight to Jeremiah’s desk. “Hi!” he said, practically vibrating with excitement. “I’m Gyrus!”

Jeremiah rolled his eyes. “I know. You said.”

Gyrus was a little confused by the cold reception. But he shook it off. He had remembered his name! That was good! “Cassandra’s in the Helen quadrant. What’s it like?”

A dark cloud passed over Jeremiah’s face. “Cassandra’s gone,” he snarled.

Gyrus frowned. Because he’d only asked a question. He didn’t need to lie. “No its not. Cassandra’s classified. The ai said.”

“Shut up!” Jeremiah shoved Gyrus, sending him tumbling down. “What’s a baby know? Just repeating what the ai says, like a baby!”

Gyrus’s eyes welled up with tears. He’d never been pushed before and he didn’t like it at all. “Jeremiah!” The teacher’s voice came like a hurricane on them all. “Come with me!” The teacher dragged Jeremiah away as he struggled in their arms.

The other kids gathered around Gyrus. “It’s ok.” Psyche put a small hand on Gyrus’s arm. “He’s just mean. We can be your friends instead, ok?”

Gyrus rubbed his nose with his hand, but he nodded.

———————

Gyrus grinned to himself feeling on top of the world. Today would mark the start of the class’s greatest honor, for teams of two to design a project to be submitted for review by the Cerebrum itself! He caught Psyche’s eye from across the room and gave her a wink. She returned it with a sly grin. The two of them already knew what project they wanted to work on, a new engine faster than light speed with two engines.

The partners hadn’t been picked yet, but it was practically a done deal. With only six people in the class they divided pretty easily, and with ten years together, everyone had gotten pretty set in their ways. Gyrus with Psyche, Agnes with Virgil. Even Lestra didn’t mind being paired with Jeremiah, because it meant she got to do all the work.

The teacher clapped their hands. “All right class, it’s time to pick your partners!” Gyrus leaned back in his chair, already planning what materials he and Psyche could ask for. Working for the Cerebrum meant even K-42 was an option, but they’d best be absolutely certain their new design would work before they requested something so integral to space travel. “Jeremiah,” the teacher’s voice cut through Gyrus’s thoughts. “You pick first.”

Gyrus choked, losing his balance on his chair and nearly toppling backwards. He caught himself on an empty desk and righted himself quickly, humiliation tainting the worry growing in the pit of his stomach. Jeremiah had been stirring up trouble since the day Gyrus had met him, and age had done nothing to soften him up. Gyrus and the others tried to be inclusive and let him play with them or join in activities as the years passed, but he had always either refused or agreed simply to pick a fight. Not a physical fight, not since their first year, but his intelligence knew no bounds and he was determined to use it to verbally destroy anything that stood in his way. Nothing was sacred, not even the Cerebrum. He was only fifteen, and already it was rumored he was one bad deed away from black mark on his citizenship ranking.

So him going first was a sure fire guarantee for trouble. He seemed to know it too, smirking at his class as they watched him in silent horror. “I get to go first? That’s a first. And on such an important event too, a project for your precious Cerebitch.”

“Jeremiah!” snapped the teacher. “Pick now or go last.”

“Ok, ok,” Jeremiah held out his hands in mock surrender. “I pick Mr. Popular over there.” His thumb jerked to the side, pointing directly between Gyrus’s eyes. “Gyrus,” Jeremiah added as if to rub in what everyone already knew.

Gyrus felt his heart plummet. This was bad, no this was terrible. His first big break, and he would have to work with Jeremiah. Psyche peaked at him from her desk, face full of sympathy, but he couldn’t bear to look at her. Nausea rose in his stomach as he looked at the face of his new partner for the rest of the year, Jeremiah.

———————

“...he doesn’t even like me! Why would he choose to partner with me? Does he really hate me that much? Now what am I gonna do? He’s gonna ruin the biggest project of my life!” Gyrus ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends in frustration.

He looked over at the family’s ai. It didn’t speak for a long second. Finally it said, “There are many possible motivations for Jeremiah’s actions, but without further evidence results are inconclusive and not worth bothering over. Instead of complaining, work around this set back. If possible, persuade him to be productive for the good of the group.”

Gyrus crossed his arms. “And how am I supposed to do that?”

“Analyst of human behavior finds that most humans respond positively to signs of affection, and usually fall into line after repeated exposure,” the ai blinked its light at Gyrus.

Gyrus rolled his eyes and stormed off, slamming the door to his room shut and collapsing on his bed. The ai’s advice, usually so helpful, was completely useless in this case. He’d already tried being nice to Jeremiah, they all had! It was Jeremiah wasn’t nice, who sat in his corner and refused to leave it, unless it was to pick a fight.

The sound of laughter drifted through his window. Gyrus peaked out to see a group of kids kicking a ball around in the park down below his apartment. They looked to be about his age, and Gyrus leaned closer, watching them run and laugh and play. He wondered what their names were, and what school they went to. He couldn’t go down and find out, he had homework to do, and a very regimented exercise schedule he couldn’t break. But that didn’t stop him from watching the figures below play.

An image of Jeremiah crossed his mind then, sitting alone at his little table while the others laughed in the center of the room. He had been watching them, a scowl on his lips, but his eyes had followed Gyrus’s hands as he described how far a gear had flown off an invention. He’d looked away when Gyrus had smiled at him, but he didn’t leave.

“It must be lonely,” a voice whispered in his mind. “To always watch from the outside.” Gyrus shook his head, trying to get rid the thought.

“He’s still a jerk,” he pointed out to himself. The other voice was distinctly silent. Gyrus threw his hands up and slammed them into his pillow as his mind ran through his knowledge of defensive behavior and basic psychology. He groaned, but eventually slumped in defeat. “Fine,” he mumbled into his pillow. “I can be nice.”

The next day he took his lunch and purposely moved to sit beside Jeremiah at his small table.

Jeremiah stared at him like he was an alien, to shocked to put up an angry front. “What are you doing?” his voice was flat.

Gyrus gave him his best smile. “I’m sitting with you!”

“Who said you could sit here?” Jeremiah snapped back, traces of his old fire returning.

“You did,” Gyrus replied. “When you chose me to be your partner, remember?”

“That doesn’t mean I want a mindless Cerebitch drone like you hanging around me,” Jeremiah snarled, face invading Gyrus’s personal space.

“Too bad,” Gyrus took a bite of his sandwich and took care to keep his face completely neutral. “Pickles?”

——————

And thus began Operation Friendship. Every lunch Gyrus would sit next to Jeremiah. Every day after school he would run to catch the train home with him. Every morning he would wait until he arrived and enter with him. It wasn’t easy. Jeremiah wasn’t one to go down without a fight. But Gyrus was determined. No matter how much Jeremiah insulted or yelled at Gyrus, no matter how much he tried to hide from him or take shady routes through neighborhoods with S.M.I.L.E. druggies loitering in corners, no matter what he couldn't get rid of him.

“I know what you’re doing,” Jeremiah snapped one day at lunch. Gyrus looked up from his lunch, leftover Mandu, a real treat. “And it’s not going to work. I’m never going to help on your stupid fascist project.” He crossed his arms and smirked at Gyrus, as if this somehow made him win.

“Ok.” Gyrus took another bite of his sandwich and chewed it slowly.

“Did you hear me? I’m not going to help you so you might as well leave!” Jeremiah snapped.

“Oh I heard you.” Gyrus nodded, looking down at his sandwich. “But you weren’t doing anything anyway. So it’s not like anything really changes.” He smiled at Jeremiah. “Hey! Do you think that next class they’ll let us use the explosives in the lab? I think I’ve gotten better at controlling the explosions.”

Jeremiah let out a very frustrated scream.

------------

“How about this?” Jeremiah interrupted Gyrus’s rendition of a funny incident involving lost Nano technology, a S.M.I.L.E press gang, and their government official on a train. “I’ll invite you over. Show you a few tricks your dumb drone mind can’t comprehend, and then you leave me alone?”

Gyrus frowned, because he’d thought he’d been rather funny, and because he had not been expecting an offer to be made. “And lose your company for the rest of the year?”

“Oh please we both know you don’t like me at all,” Jeremiah rolled his eyes.

That hurt a bit, and Gyrus tried not to outwardly wince. He had begun to grow fond of Jeremiah, once you looked past his rough exterior. But he supposed it wouldn’t look that way to him. Maybe he should take a different strategy.

“How about this instead. You come over to my place today, and we spend the afternoon together and forget about the project?” He peaked at Jeremiah through his bangs.

Jeremiah frowned, “And then you leave me alone?”

“And then we have fun together,” Gyrus replied. “Like normal kids.”

Jeremiah did not look convinced.

--------------

Gyrus was beginning to feel like the whole plan was spiraling out of control. He’d thought it was over, at first. That there was no way that Jeremiah would come over it his house. But after school he had walked right up to Gyrus, bag over his shoulder and a scowl on his lips. “Where to?” he’d asked.

For a second Gyrus had been to shocked to answer. Then a strange sensation of absolute joy began to fill his whole core. “Follow me!” He beamed at Jeremiah, who looked away.

He’d taken Jeremiah to his house and showed him his room, his makeshift lab, and his workout place, expecting them to spend the time there. But Jeremiah had taken one look out the window and said, “Let’s go and hang out at the park.”

Gyrus had tried to point out what a bad idea that was, they had homework to do, they had to keep a very regimented fitness standard, and that sport only really worked on leg strength and endurance, which was very impractical...

Jeremiah raised an eyebrow. “If you’re so against this, why have you taken the time to analyze how it fits into the exercise regiment?”

Gyrus had not had a response to that.

And that was how Gyrus had ended up in the park, facing a group of kids whose names he didn’t know but who he’d watched from his window for years. What was he even supposed to say? He gave an awkward wave. “Hi, I’m Gyrus!”

“Jeremiah,” Jeremiah added, hands stuffed in his pockets. He looked completely at ease, as if they were not breaking an unspoken rule that had been drilled into them since they were children.

The boys looked at each other. “I’m Will,” one said, stepping out from the lineup. “And this is Phillip, Miguel, Navieen, Taro, and Dahveed.” There was a pause where the eight of them all just looked at each other, uncertain of what to do next. Finally Will continued in a half-hearted attempt to fill the silence, “Do you play soccer?”

“Sure,” Jeremiah replied before Gyrus had a chance to explain that no, they really didn’t. Will smiled.

And that was how Gyrus found himself playing a sport he had only seen through a window. It was simple, too simple, and in its simplicity was honestly hard. The training regiment he’d used his whole life had trained him to run and lift, not to dodge or dribble. By the end he was so exhausted he collapsed on the ground, certain he had failed completely.

So he was surprised when Will said, “You guy’s are pretty good. Why haven’t I seen you around before?”

Jeremiah raised a hand from where he lay collapsed beside Gyrus. “Crazy.” He pointed at himself. “Future government drone,” He turned his finger to Gyrus. “They don’t let us out much.”

“Jeremiah!” Gyrus snapped, using the last of his strength to prop himself up on his elbows and glare at him. “We’re with the Young Genius Program,” he explained, giving Will and the others a smile.

Miguel whistled, “Damn that’s like an automatic red rank! You really are future government drones.” Taro hit him and the others’ faces creased in alarm.

“Don’t mind him,” Taro said as Miguel rubbed his cheek. “He’s just an idiot.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jeremiah drawled. “We’re not going to report you. Right Gyrus?” he turned his head to face him.

Gyrus shrugged, “I don’t really see what the big deal is, so sure. But one thing,” he looked severely at the boys. They watched him back with apprehension. “I’m not going into government, I’m going into space!”

Jeremiah let out a bark of laughter, and soon the others followed suit. “There you have it!” Jeremiah chuckled. “A space case if there ever was one.”

They laughed a little longer. Finally Will said, “We play here after school every day. You’re welcome to come and play again if you have the time.”

Gyrus’s pulse raced with excitement at the prospect to play again, but then felt a wave of worry wash it away. They didn’t mean him, they meant both of them. He glanced over at Jeremiah.

Jeremiah was silent for a second, then shrugged. “Sure,” he said, his eyes meeting Gyrus’s. “We’d love to.”

Gyrus stared back at Jeremiah, and knew something had changed.

-----------

From then on, Jeremiah’s behavior towards Gyrus changed drastically. He was still rude about the Cerebrum, still mocked Gyrus for his dream of space, still skipped out on homework. But he quit complaining about Gyrus eating lunch with him, and every day he would wait at the school gate for Gyrus to walk home. At first Gyrus thought this was because he wanted to play soccer, and had reluctantly reminded him that they really couldn’t play every day. But Jeremiah had just shrugged and kept walking beside Gyrus, as if he hadn’t heard. The next day he was waiting outside, looking very bored, and Gyrus smiled.

“I have an idea,” he proposed from where he sat at the low table in his makeshift lab. Jeremiah glanced at him from his position reclining on a bean bag pillow. “For our project.”

Jeremiah groaned and started to roll away, but Gyrus raised his hand. “Just hear me out! What if we made something for soccer?”

“Unless you’re trying to reinvent the ball, you’ve been beaten for a few millennia.” Jeremiah stretched and settled down again in the bean bag, his back to Gyrus.

“Then we’ll make something for space and soccer. Astronauts and early settlers, everyone always designs practical things for them to use. Why don’t we bring them a little fun?”

Jeremiah slowly turned to look back at Gyrus. “You really want to present a soccer invention to your precious Cerebitch?! Ha!” He threw back his head and let out a peal of laughter. “What happened to the straight-laced future drone I used to know?”

Gyrus frowned. “Improvement of quality of living is an important part of progress. People will work harder if they have something to look forward too.”

“And the old Gyrus is back.” Jeremiah rolled his eyes. Then he drew himself up into a sitting position on the bean bag. “Fine. Let’s present the Cerebitch with the weirdest waste of time its ever seen.”

Gyrus’s heart felt light as he pulled out at notebook. “I have a few ideas already!”

------------

The next few weeks found Gyrus on top of the world. Jeremiah, for all his lazy ways, was very intelligent, and his skill in item design surpassed even Gyrus’s. He vetoed all most every invention Gyrus came up with, but not out of disinterest. Rather he took the time to explain why they wouldn’t work. The two engine design in the space ball was not built for such a small container and would likely explode. The high quality insulation materials for shin guards were to expensive and cumbersome for first wave colonists. His advice was always practical, with an insight even Gyrus missed.

He really has lived in space. Gyrus thought as he peaked over at where Jeremiah sat drawing designs for their latest idea: jump boots for lighter gravity soccer. He wondered if all the errors were problems Jeremiah remembered from his life on Cassandra. He wondered if he could ask.

Jeremiah caught him staring and gave him a sideways grin. “Lost in space again?”

Gyrus blushed and quickly changed the subject to the jet propulsions in the boots. He babbled on as Jeremiah listened with amusement and a snappy reply to anything he deemed foolish. Gyrus felt bad for even wanting to bring Cassandra up, seeing how happy Jeremiah looked now, but in his mind the question still burned beneath the surface.

------------

It wasn’t until a week later when he finally got the courage to try and ask again. Jeremiah had brought some basic materials to start working on construction. Gyrus listened to him sing the praises of aluminum and all the things it could be used for, and cautiously asked, “It sounds like you have some experience.”

“Yeah I do,” Jeremiah smiled down at it. He glanced up to meet Gyrus’s cautious expression and sighed. “I’m from Cassandra, you can say it.”

Gyrus fiddled with his fingers. “I wasn’t sure. I thought it might be...” he looked down, “...a sensitive subject.”

Jeremiah turned to lean against the lab counter, arms crossed. “It’s not. Most adults want me to shut up about it. But I won’t. I can’t. I’m from Cassandra and they blew it up.” He scowled down at the floor.

Gyrus looked at him, uncertain of what he was supposed to say. Jeremiah glanced up and smiled at him, a wide stretch of lips that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Tell me Gyrus,” he said in a teacher-like voice that reeked of insincerity. “What do you know about Cassandra?”

“Only that there was some kind of accident, and its classified,” Gyrus replied hesitantly.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He turned back towards Gyrus, arms spread to support his weight as he leaned forward on the counter. “It’s not exactly something the Cerebitch wants out there. Might stop it’s precious expansion if they knew how some colonists were really treated.”

Gyrus leaned forward, feeling like something big was about to be revealed, like he stood on the brink of a secret that could change everything. Whatever Jeremiah was about it say, it should not be spoken too loudly.

Jeremiah noticed his attention, and his face became grave. He dropped the patronizing voice as he continued, “My parents were some of the first to get on board. Wanted to see the stars. I was born up there, the first child of Cassandra they said. And wasn’t I lucky?” He uttered the last word with all the viciousness that he had used so often against teachers and classmates throughout the years.

“It was a mining colony.” Jeremiah’s lips twitched up. “Mining ore for the precious collaboration. Such an honor. And the greatest of honors, the greatest of secrets, was one my father found himself.” He looked Gyrus straight in the eye. “My father found a vein of Kaz-42.”

Gyrus gasped. Kaz-42 was supposed to only come from the Hercules quadrant, and was guarded day in and day out for its essentiality for space travel. It had taken Psyche and Lestra ages to get permission to use it.

“Yeah it was pretty impressive.” Jeremiah smirked. “We certainly thought so. My parent’s told me they celebrated all night. Kaz-42 can only be extracted by people, on account of how it interferes with machines. Bet you didn’t know that, it’s a highly classified secret. Cerebitch doesn’t want humanity to realize can’t control something so important. But we knew. We lived it.”

“Here’s another thing you don’t know about Kaz-42.” Jeremiah’s smirk disappeared. “It’s incredibly toxic to humans. The whole town was suffering, people dying slowly, and no doctor or medicine was sent to help us.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Gyrus protested. “If they let the miners die then they won’t have any more Kaz-42. They have to keep them effective by providing treatment.”

“Oh there was one treatment.” Jeremiah’s voice was bitter. “S.M.I.L.E.”

“But S.M.I.L.E’s only supposed to be for prisoners who won’t reform!” Gyrus protested.

“Oh and you believe that?” Jeremiah rolls his eyes. “Ever taken the time to count the S.M.I.L.E druggies in this city? Seems a lot of people who are supposedly the worst of the worst.” He shook his head. “But that’s not the point. The point is that they used S.M.I.L.E on everyone. The miners, their families. They let them work to the bone with a smile on their face. And they..we..didn’t even realize it was killing us.”

“Jeremiah,” Gyrus’s voice was soft even to his own ears. He didn’t know what else to say, nothing was making sense.

Jeremiah glanced at him and his expression softened for a second. “I didn’t have some miraculous escape. I was just as drugged as the rest of them. But my grandma..” He hugged himself as he continued, “She saved me. Convinced my parents to let me visit her, so I was away when...” his arms tightened as he looked down. Gyrus reached out, wanting to comfort but not sure how. His hand hovered by Jeremiah’s side.

He didn’t notice. Instead he spoke again in that patronizing tone, the one he used when he mocked a teacher as he stared at his feet. “Did you know that K-42 isn’t corrosive? No of course you do, its what all you drone engineer’s go nuts over. Well that thing we mined out? It was. It wasn’t K-42. Not really.” Gyrus felt himself go cold. Corrosion at the heart of a space engine could only mean one thing.

“The first ship exploded at dawn.” Jeremiah’s voice was dull. “The Cerebitch ordered Cassandra destroyed by noon. There was no evacuation. It was deemed a waste of resources to even attempt it.”

Gyrus stood there, frozen with his hand an inch away from Jeremiah’s arm. Nausea churned in his gut and he felt like he would throw up. There had to be another explanation. This didn’t make sense. Hesitatingly he asked, “You’re sure that it was an order?”

“Of course I’m sure I hacked...” Jeremiah lifted his eyes to look at Gyrus and stopped. His eyes went wide. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“You were very young,” Gyrus pointed out as he watched Jeremiah’s shock turn to anger. “I’m only trying to understand...” Jeremiah grabbed him by the collar and got in his face.

“You don’t want to understand!” Jeremiah snarled. “I could show you the evidence, the traces I hacked at four years old, and you still wouldn’t understand!” His hand tightened on Gyrus’s collar and Gyrus winced. “You’re just like everyone else! You don’t want to risk falling down a citizen ranking, or leave your safe little drone life...”

“Stop,” Gyrus whispered. Jeremiah shoved him away, and Gyrus tumbled to the floor. Jeremiah stood above, glaring down, and it was only now Gyrus realized he was crying.

“You have assaulted User Gyrus,” the family’s ai broke through. “This has been your final strike. Your citizenship ranking has reached black. Please refrain from resisting as you are placed under arrest.”

Jeremiah’s head swung to look at it and back to Gyrus, lying beneath him on the floor. “I...I didn’t mean...I’m sorry.”

The door burst open and two men in suits entered. The first pulled out a gun and shot Jeremiah with a tranquilizer, the second grabbed him by the arms. Jeremiah resisted, screaming and pleading, “I’m sorry, Gyrus please! Don’t let them take me, Please!” he punched the second guy in the face and the first had to grab his other arm, dragging him out of the house.

All the while Gyrus sat there, dazed on the floor and watching them drag Jeremiah away. He wanted to move, but he couldn’t, frozen to the spot. Jeremiah locked eyes with him as the drug kicked in. Gyrus had never seen someone looks so afraid.

The door closed behind him with a bang. Gyrus didn’t work up the strength to move for a long time.

-----------

Jeremiah never returned to school. Gyrus completed the jump boots alone and submitted them to the Cerebrum. The others all had things to say about Jeremiah, and comfort to offer Gyrus, but he didn’t want to hear it. They hadn’t been there, they didn’t know what they were talking about. Only Psyche seemed to notice how upset it made him, and tried to get the others to stop.

When the men in suits came for him, Gyrus didn’t resist. He just followed quietly behind. They led him to the principal’s office, were the principal began to make a long speech about how good Gyrus’s jump boots had been.

“And Jeremiah’s,” Gyrus interrupted. “Most of what you’re praising was his idea.”

A frown passed over the principal’s face, for half a second, then it was gone. “You’re being to modest. Whatever assistance you may have received in the initial stages, you were still the one to build it, and all by yourself. Which is why you so deserve this opportunity the most out of everyone.” He held out a piece of paper.

Gyrus accepted it, glancing down on the words written on the sheet. “I don’t understand.”

“You’ve graduated my dear boy!” the principle replied. He gave Gyrus a patronizing smile. “Ordinarily there would be a ceremony, but an the most advanced lab in space technology is asking for you specifically, and they do not have the luxury of waiting a few days.”

Gyrus stared at him, disbelieving. Had it really been so great? “I’ve got to tell my parents...”

“Already taken care of,” the principal held up his hand. “All that remains is for you to seize your destiny. What do you say? Do you want to go to space?”

Gyrus looked down at the paper in his hands, then up at the Principal and the silent men beside him. “More than anything,” he said.

-----------

The next five years were a blur to Gyrus. He started working in the space technology lab, first as a student but soon as a fully-fledged worker in all but name. There were ten labs in total, and Gyrus found himself bouncing between them, never staying too long in one before he was moved to another. Because of his constant movement and his accelerated schedule, he never got to make friends with the students who were close to his own age. But the adult staff, and the janitors all seemed to like him, so he was doing ok.

He still felt like something was missing though, like there should be more to his life that he wasn’t getting. A purpose perhaps, something to do with all the knowledge trapped inside his head, besides show off to janitors and the students whose names would change in a month. So when Iro approached him and offered him the stars, Gyrus wholeheartedly accepted.

-----------

“User Gyrus, where are we going?” Scout asked as he flew beside Gyrus.

“We’re going to my house,” Gyrus explained. “I need to break this news to my family. Iro will come later and explain the details, but I want to be the first to tell them.”

“Then why are we in this broken park, and not in your house?” Scout hovered by his side. “If you are lost, I have a built in GPS and maps to help you.”

“Nostalgia,” Gyrus said as he looked around the old soccer field. It had changed, the grass had been replanted sometime in the five years, and had it always been so small? It was getting smaller too. He glanced over to the far side where a supervisor in green was directing a S.M.I.L.E. gang to put in a new jungle gym.

“Gyrus?” A voice cried. Gyrus saw one of the gang members break from the group, coming towards him rapidly. The supervisor moved to intercept him, but he easily dodged. “Gyrus is that you?”

Gyrus tensed, but there was something familiar about the figure that kept him rooted to the spot. It couldn’t be. Could it?

The man threw his arms around Gyrus. “It’s been forever! How are you?”

“This man is ranked black Gyrus.” Scout said warningly. “Do you want me to call for back up?”

Gyrus ignored Scout in favor of the man currently hugging him like his life depended on it. “Je-Jeremiah?” he asked in a shaking voice.

“So you do remember me!” Jeremiah’s laughter was a strange, disorienting sound like a robot on a loop. Nothing like Gyrus remembered. Over Jeremiah’s shoulder Gyrus could see the supervisor reaching for a weapon. He put his arms around Jeremiah and shook his head. The supervisor lowered the weapon.

“Its-its been a while I...” Gyrus leaned back to look up at Jeremiah’s face...He’d grown so tall, had it really been five years?...He looked awful, with hollow cheeks and eyes bloodshot and unfocused. “Jeremiah what happened to you?”

“Oh you know, you know,” Jeremiah waved a hand. “Learning the error in my ways, giving back to the community, all that.” His words seem to slur together, and he swayed back and forth so violently that Gyrus feared he would topple over if he didn’t keep a hand on his side to support him. “But what about you?” He raised his hand to run his fingers through Gyrus’s hair. “You’ve cut your hair.”

“I’m going to space,” Gyrus said. For the first time Jeremiah seemed to focus on him, his old intelligence sharp in his eyes. “With the exploration division.”

“What?” Jeremiah hissed, then doubled over, coughing into Gyrus’s shoulder. His hands curled like claws into Gyrus’s shirt as Gyrus’s arms tightened to support the shift in weight. “Stupid...drone.” His coughed out, every sound that emerged sounding like he was biting glass shards. “Don’t...don’t go.”

“Caution User Gyrus,” Scout chirped. “His heart has accelerated. He may need medical attention.”

“What?” Gyrus said, too confused by the utter fear in Jeremiah’s eyes to listen. “It’s not dangerous.” He tried to reassure Jeremiah as he felt him shaking in his arms. “Captain Iro has an amazing track record...”

“Blind,” Jeremiah snapped, then shook his head violently. “Stupid...Space Case. Look between,” he gasped, visibly struggling to continue. “Liars...”

“Gyrus,” Iro appeared suddenly at Gyrus’s side. “There you are. We need hurry if we are to meet your parents.” He gave Jeremiah’s shaking form a cursory glance. “I believe your supervisor wants you back.”

Jeremiah gave Gyrus’s arms one last warning squeeze, face still pleading. Then he stepped back, eyes becoming covered in a glassy film. “Oh yeah. Bye Gyrus.” His arm moved in a jerky wave, like a puppet on a string. “Have fun in space.”

“I hope that druggie wasn’t bothering you,” Iro’s voice was kind, as he dusted Gyrus’s shoulder. Scout fluttered around Iro, chirping greetings.

Gyrus shook his head, eyes following Jeremiah as he made his way zigzagging across the park. “He was an old friend, from the Young Genius Program.”

“Really?” Iro raised an eyebrow. “What a shame. To have such a mind and refuse to use it for the good of others.”

Gyrus didn’t respond. The supervisor in green gave a sharp bark of command to the S.M.I.L.E gang and they began to fall into a line. Gyrus watched as Jeremiah joined at the back, marching in perfect formation with the others until he was out of sight.

“User Gyrus is experiencing nostalgia,” Scout explained as Iro frowned.

---------

Space was beautiful. Gyrus has never known just how lovely stars were until he got to see one up close. Everyone on board was so kind and wonderful, and Iro was the kind of selfless and wise leader Gyrus would follow anywhere. Most days the mission was more than he’d ever wanted. Most days he was content. But sometimes when a planet exploration went too wrong, when they made a hard choice for the greater good, something would niggle in the back of Gyrus’s mind. He tried to voice it, quietly to Iro, about his concerns.

Iro’s voice was gentle when he told him that focusing on the past was pointless. Missions were completed by the book, which dictated the Cerebrum’s decision. They made the choices based off how best to follow the Cerebrum’s will, and sometimes, that meant making hard choices. He’d put a hand on Gyrus’s shoulder in comfort.

“But the Cerebrum isn’t here!” Gyrus had exclaimed. “It doesn’t know what we know! If it had the information we discover...”

“Gyrus,” Iro had interrupted gently. “Trying to out-think the Cerebrum, that’s the path to madness. You need to have faith.”

It was only on those nights, when nothing quite made sense and he was too sad and confused to know what to do, that he finally let himself remember. Let himself wonder what had happened to his friend in that S.M.I.L.E gang, and wonder if this was what he had felt like back in school, holding on close to a memory he wasn’t supposed to keep. Gyrus would toss and turn in his bed, and wish desperately for the faith Iro spoke of so freely.

----------

Everything was going wrong. Lights flashed as Gyrus ran. Over the communications line he could hear Iro yelling commands, but they filtered by him. Only one thing was running through his head. Sakura was stranded outside. And Iro had ordered them not to rescue her.

He threw on a suit and jumped in the hatch. Scout attaching to his side. “This is against protocol User Gyrus,” the robot warned him.

“She’s going to die!” Gyrus yelled. “I have to try.” Carefully he exited the aircraft. Sakura hung there, surrounded by explosive material, unable to activate her jetpack without setting it on fire. Gyrus pushed off the edge, using his momentum to go towards her.

“Gyrus...What?” Sakura’s voice echoed over the comms as he crashed into her.

“It’s ok!” Gyrus smiled, even if he knew it would be almost impossible for her to see from his position clinging to her side. “I’m going to get you out!”

“But the explosives, and the ship...” Sakura protested. “You weren’t supposed to rescue me! This is against protocol...”

“Protocol also prioritizes crew,” Gyrus replied as he adjusted his position against her, before shoving hard. “I’m prioritizing crew!”

She flew back towards the ship, out of the danger zone. Good, she could be rescued. Better, his own momentum pushed him so far in the other direction he cleared the danger zone entirely. He could get picked up from here. It would just be a little tricky.

“Gyrus what have you done?” Iro’s voice crackled over the comms.

“I saved Sakura,” Gyrus replied. “But its fine. I’m on the other side unharmed. I think I see a way you could get around it to rescue me.”

“Gyrus,” Iro’s voice sounded broken. “I can’t.”

“Sure you can,” Gyrus said as he eyed the ship from across the danger zone. You’d have to duck into the planet’s orbit, but you could still get here. Unless the ship’s paradox engine is damaged.” Gyrus’s stomach sank. “Is...is it damaged?”

For a long time Iro was silent. Gyrus felt his heart plummet. Finally Iro said, “Gyrus you don’t understand. I can’t. To rescue you would involve a too many risks that go way too far out of protocol. And I can’t...I can’t risk this many crew members on someone with a black mark on their citizenship.”

“W-what?” Gyrus asked, a numbness creeping into his body that made it difficult to speak. “I..I don’t have...”

“You were always high risk, always questioning far to much and doing what you thought was best instead of waiting for orders,” Iro sounded uncomfortable. “But what you did today...Gyrus, you directly disobeyed orders from the Cerebrum itself. That was your final strike.”

“You’re...you’re going to...Iro you can’t! You can’t just leave me here! Please!” Tears ran freely down Gyrus’s face, but he couldn’t brush them away through his helmet.

“I’m sorry Gyrus,” Iro did sound genuinely sorry. “But for the good off all...we can’t come to get you.” The comm switched off. Gyrus tried shouting, crying, calling, but nothing could get it to switch back on.

“Scout,” he said, when he finally ran out of tears. “They haven’t quite left yet. I could toss you across, you could attach to the side and go with them.” The thought of Scout leaving him was more than he could bear, but he didn’t want them to suffer for his sins.

“You are my User, Gyrus,” Scout hummed. “I will stay with you.” Gyrus relief swelled up in Gyrus as he hugged Scout tightly to his chest. He began to cry again, so pathetically grateful to not die alone.

They lay in space, floating suspended in the emptiness, watching the ship from across the explosives as it prepared to make the final jump. “Don’t go.” A memory flew unbidden into his mind of Jeremiah’s pleading face, so afraid for Gyrus. Even after he hadn’t believed him, even after he’d gotten him a black mark and thrown in a S.M.I.L.E. gang, he’d still tried to warn Gyrus. As the ship made the final jump and left Scout and Gyrus alone in their grave of stars, Gyrus wished more than anything that he had listened. Not just about the mission, about everything. He wished he’d had the courage to believe Jeremiah, to accept that the world he believed in was a carefully constructed lie.

The oxygen tank beeped. It was low. Gyrus closed his eyes and let himself relax. If he fell asleep, this would all be over soon.

He awoke on a strange planet under a black sun.

#1984 inspired

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#1984 inspired