Most humans progress through life along a path created by the society and culture they are part of. Existentialism emphasises individual existences, freedom, and choice. Machines are essentialists, focusing on the inherent nature or essence of things and the belief in fundamental, unchanging truths.
Emotions are vital to help humans learn and make decisions. Feelings are experienced constantly from birth to death. A new born baby is emotionally involved with its mother as soon as it understands she is a valuable source for food and comfort and the emotional attachment is immediate.
Emotions, for humans, are an essential part of being consistent, being part of a social group, and staying safe.
Androids have successfully been programmed with 'visceral-like' responses but these are mimicked, not intrinsic. Androids are trained to respond to their owners fears and happiness as they are unable to understand emotions themselves, for themselves. These models are generally trained to respond to human physical alterations such as odours, sweat, pupil changes, vocal idiosyncrasies etc, and to respond as if they are their own. We could call this 'fake empathy'.
Automatic robotic vehicles do not fear the crash, they simply know that a crash is not desirable in terms of their interactive function, and the ongoing success of the job in hand.
'We should get some *infon on any *preds, Shabra said, thinking hard about the best time of night to get to the *edge, which was renowned for tribal and gang flash points
The robodog wagged its tail and sat importantly on the roof of the vehicle looking around and growling.
The door opened suddenly and a large man with a long beard frisked them before allowing them entry.
Renyke, not used to any sort of frisking in his past life, was sensing increasing anxiety.
The POS was idle.
'Welcome brother,' the guard said to Flex. 'Are you well?'
'Fine, just fine, my friend,' Flex answered, 'We continue unabated to live another day *vilarev.'
They enter a meeting place, some kind of bar. It is thick with smoke, the smell of *nibs, sweat, and the streets.
A woman approaches chanting poetry with her arms outstretched.
'The sun shines bright when you let in the light, welcome my sister of the night.' There is more convivial laughter.
She embraces Shabra and they exchange warm greetings. Excited to make new acquaintances the woman beckons the group to sit at a table.
'Ah, come, come my friends. I have a perfect place for you to sit and please, be my guests at the bar.
The woman beckons a member of staff 'Let's have liquor.' she says, 'bring my best for my new friends.'
Renyke asks the POS for details about the venue, the location and the owner but it makes little sense..
.......data unavailable..... scrambled information
'How come these places aren't mapped?' Renyke asked Shabra.
'Mr Renyke, you ask too many questions. 'Hiding is surviving.'
'Yes,' interjected Flex, 'and we move, we move often. The key to freedom is movement.
'And we know not where that will take us for certain.'
Renyke checks the POS which is active again.
.....Urchs believe in various spiritual concepts but nothing is written down. Oral traditions and faith seem to be passed from parents to children.
They believe in the existence of dissatisfied or pained ghost like entities from the future.
.....Urchs also believe that taking drugs or mind altering ingested compounds will help them understand what is 'real real' and that the stresses of daily existence mask these realities and render them misunderstood. Urchs believe that getting high enables them a greater understanding of reality and even an ability to meet the entities or ghosts of the future and to realise their path to enlightenment.
'We shouldn't stay here too long, and you shouldn't get high,' said Renyke, looking at Shabra who is drinking the free liquor.
'You are so uptight Mr Renyke.' Shabra winks.
There is a brief conversation between a man and Shabra that Renyke cannot understand.
The POS has lost signal so Renyke turns to Flex.
'What is this dialect?' he asks.
'Ah, that is *zonespeak, with some colour changes for the Urchs. We have our own code see.'
Shabra rises, 'Let's Go! I think there is some trouble around tonight.'
Outside a small urch child sits on the bonnet of the car.
'Can I come too?' the child asks excitedly.
'No man, This is grown-up stuff. Come see me tomorrow, now *fucksyoff.'
The child jumps off the bonnet, hugs Flex, and runs away
Various people try to offer them drugs. Another offers a selection of weapons.
'No sweat,' says Flex, 'we will get him off the other side. He does no harm, annoying is all.'
Suddenly there is an almighty bang and the child on the bonnet is shot. Its guts are all over the windscreen, blood drips down the glass and the crowd scarpers.
Everyone on the street is screaming.
The POS engages
.....99% likelihood of robbery, ambush, death alert!
There is a man in front of the car pointing an AK47 at Shabra's head.
'Bastardos gang aint getting my *vicular.', shouts Shabra.
to be continued