[[ NINE ]]
Bed time.
At least, that was what Clear decided when we finished eating. I find myself standing from the table and gathering our noodle cups and chopsticks without a second thought, and Clear wheels himself to the main part of the room where a somewhat large TV sits mounted on the wall. He powers it on and swaps it to the news briefly, seemingly out of curiosity. A newscaster reports on -- as far as I can glean -- nothing in particular; they’re talking in circles about Outer Rim outlaws stealing people’s chips or getting counterfeit ones for sneaking into Royal Road and how it can be avoided, but their conversations are intentionally engineered to go nowhere and fill people’s time, as far as I can tell.
Anyway, the news really hasn’t changed in a hundred years. What a shame.
I kinda hate it.
Clear’s interest wanes as I’m done cleaning up after ourselves, and before I grow the will to ask him to turn it off, he shuts it off just in time. He navigates his wheelchair to the edge of the couch and manages to climb onto it without using his legs, gathering a few couch pillows to support his head as he lays down, taking one leg at a time and pulling them onto the couch cushions. It looks comfortable enough, but I depart from the kitchen and check my bedroom.
I return to his side with an armful of actual pillows and offer them in place of the couch pillows. He begins to decline, but sits up after a moment to let me replace the pillows accordingly. Draped over my arm is a spare blanket I found, and I place it over him without much consideration.
“Ah…” Clear says. He sounds a bit surprised. “... Thank you, Commander.”
I begin to realize I might have overdone it a little bit, but it was basic manners for anyone else, wasn’t it? I recall the way NIKKEs are typically treated on the Ark and find myself looking a little silly. Still, I double down on my actions and respond back to him rather warmly.
“Don’t mention it,” I reply. “I guess I’m getting to bed. I know you need your rest, so feel free to relax, even though Magnolia said to watch over me. I feel fine.”
“If you insist, Commander,” Clear murmurs, a small frown on his lips. He’s unable to ignore my instructions as a NIKKE, but it wasn’t my intention to control him into doing something he’s adverse to. Still, I would much rather see him taking care of himself than someone like me, so I don’t backpedal.
“G’night,” I say, shuffling off into the bedroom awkwardly and sliding shut the door behind me. Clear doesn’t return the sentiment, and I worry I might have stunned him a bit with the whole pillows and blanket thing. Still, I don’t worry too much about the whole thing, and instead get to undressing. I need a shower before I get in bed… It wasn’t an avid habit of mine to shower often before I got to this world, but I feel like it would be wrong to neglect a shower after how much I had been sweating today. The pressure’s on to keep my image up now that I’m easing into this new life. It’s a whiplash kind of experience with all these immediate changes of pace, but I think if I can just make it through this shower I can call it a small victory.
The bathroom is a simple walk-in shower, toilet and sink, no frills. The tiling was heated and a basic blue color, and the panel between the toilet and the shower area had a dimly illuminated screen projected within the glass. I step inside and the warm floor is weird to me, whereas similarly in sensation seeing my naked body is a downright trip.
I really do have a willie down there. Wow.
I can’t really comment on the details. It’s just an average willie.
Nothing really mind blowing.
But I guess it’s neat to have one for a change!
I don’t really feel particularly stunned to have it, either…
Maybe I’m… like, genderfluid?
I don’t really care to specify that kind of stuff, so I decide to stop zoning out while staring at my junk.
I turn on the water and it warms up rather quickly. I adjust it a few times on the glass panel, and get to work. I’ve never been particularly award-winning with my bathing habits, but I decide a full body scrub is the only way to go after a day like today. After a few moments of proper sanitation, I realize the glass panel doubles as a web interface as well. I doubt Ark internet is the same internet pre-invasion so I don’t bother looking for familiar websites; I have something else I want to do.
[ Search: Mies ]
I pull up a general search bar and type in my query. I receive a massive stream of results, but none of them are what I’m looking for. In fact, the search system thinks I meant to type in ‘miles,’ which is what’s displaying in the results I’ve received. I wonder if the way to specify words in the search bar is the same as before…
[ Search: Keyword “Mies” ]
The search takes a moment to load, poring through every publicly available file and site available. Finally, a page pops up, and there’s only one result available.
[ Archive: Controversial NIKKE Line Needs More Data ]
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
I hover over the link on the touch screen. This has to be it.
[ Loading… ]
The article trickles in bit by bit from an archive that must be 80 years old now, at least. I read it as it loads, poring over every detail.
[ A new line of NIKKE models has come to life, but not without controversy. While something like controversy itself is not new to the NIKKE industry, these additions to the study are a more complex, adventurous take on the craft. To say it has the potential to shake up the entire industry is an understatement.
The line is a premium one of male NIKKEs -- you read that right, male NIKKEs -- using the brains of trans males, called Mies; otherwise known as Finnish for ‘men’. The study imposes the idea that brains used from assigned-female-at-birth and summarily trans subjects will fill a masculine hole in the female-presenting line, allowing for a win-win in terms of survival and body image, allowing these trans subjects to receive the body they truly strive for. LGBTQIA+ groups and those opposed are celebrating and debating this new advancement, some to dramatic effect.
Truly, it’s a rabbit hole to research the topic right now.
My two cents are simple, though, and supports neither argument for or against the attempt to create someone’s ideal body into reality. It is too soon to tell if this experiment is a success yet. With the second generation of NIKKEs, phasing out unusual body functions in NIKKE models has come to reduce Mind Switch risk. Placing a assigned-female-at-birth brain into a male-presenting body is entirely too risky for these meltdowns to occur, even if these bodies are what these subjects have always dreamed for. There is too little data for this project to be considered a success yet, and I personally foresee it failing entirely. This may be the first and last time we see something like Mies in the industry.
Finally, as a final note, as it is likely something we’re all thinking; we’re experiencing end-times right now. Do we really need to explore identity when we need more NIKKEs focused on saving our hides?!]
The article signs off with a bit more speculation, but it’s mainly the same viral regurgitation tactic that must have become the standard in news media. I get the gist of it, though, and find myself lost in a sea of speculation. It gives me an indirect sight into Clear’s life before becoming a NIKKE… Which I somehow feel I don’t have the right to really look into, now that I’ve done it somehow. Still, the article seems on point. I’m pretty amazed at the author’s foresight, because his speculation bridges easily into Clear’s legs losing functionality. In fact, it dawns on me really quickly…
“... Clear lost his legs because of a Mind Switch…”
It’s obvious, isn’t it? Why didn’t anybody else conclude this sooner? If that’s really the case, though, he may never be able to use his legs again. In the cases I know from the game on Mind Switches, they seem to be completely irreversible considering it’s permanent damage to the brain. I ponder a bit longer on just how this slipped under the radar…
“... He said he was ‘probably’ hiding as a human… But that could only be until…”
I squeeze my eyes shut, running myself through all the knowledge I have on this NIKKE from the previous Commander’s brain.
It comes to me in waves.
… He was allegedly found with no viable memories that traced his origin, handed to the previous Commander after turning up in the medical ward. The Commander didn’t find it fruitful when he researched his model nor did he have the connections to ask the Big Three if this was their creation. He was stumped, but had no room to ask why it was that Clear was such a blank slate. He didn’t attempt to ask Clear much, as the NIKKE would meet him with relative silence and evident distrust… So once he exhausted all of that, he just tried the same things over again. For six months.
Meanwhile, I have the knowledge of Pilgrim models; most with no set manufacturer, made before the formation of the Big Three. After talking with Clear to the degree that I have, it would be silly to ignore the fact that he’s clearly a Pilgrim-type model. That being, he has no surviving manufacturer; Mies’ manufacturer is cited nowhere in the article, presumably lost to time. Most Pilgrim models have limited memory space, and when that space is overloaded, the Mind Switch is triggered. That being said…
…
There’s no knowledge that I have of any rampages, neither in the Ark nor the Outer Rim, in recent memory. Even the old commander’s knowledge dwindles here; there’s no record in his brain of any such things.
So what gives?
He clearly had a Mind Switch!
… But there’s no effect to the cause…
I tap around a little longer on the glass panel, searching repeatedly for reports of rampages in the Ark. Naturally, I find nothing. It’s not shocking considering this iteration of the internet is controlled entirely by the Central Government… They wouldn’t let something like this sow chaos in their little ecosystem they’ve cultivated. So I’m stumped, just like the old commander was, just at a new point of progression.
Ah, c-c-cold!
The hot water ran out…
Oh, Jesus, my balls are sucking into my body again, get me out of here!
Thankfully, I’m done scrubbing myself down. I nearly slip trying to shut off the water, shivering cold. How long was I lost in thought to not realize the hot water was running out? Ugh… Towels… Where are towels?
I find the towels in a cabinet beneath the sink and quickly dry myself off. My mind floats back every so often to the new realization I’ve had, but I’m getting sleepy too, so it’s getting less coherent. Once I’ve got my body dried off, I pace out of the bathroom and find my way to the closet. I open it up and find a plethora of perfectly dry-cleaned military uniforms… And then a small hamper of casual wear and undergarments. I dig through it and find underwear and a shirt, slap them on and call it.
As I’m getting into bed, I finally take the time to recognize it’s actually a rather nice queen size mattress. I can’t envision sharing this bed with anybody, but the extra space is nice to stretch out in. It’s a mess from when I slept in it this morning, which feels so long ago. I straighten out the top blanket on top of my body and then bunch it up against my chest, just like I did in my previous life. It’s comforting, and even if my chest lacks the breasts I used to have, it just means I have to bunch more of the blanket up against me. I don’t miss being female in particular, and I don’t mind being male now. It’s strange, but I don’t waste energy dwelling on it, like some sort of automatic defense system.
I can’t crash for any reason right now. Not even over something big, like my own identity. I just am what I am. That’s all I need.
Within minutes, I’ve drifted off into a light slumber that develops into proper sleep over an hour’s time.
Tomorrow, we head to the surface for our assigned missions.
[[ CHAPTER 10 END ]]