Epilogue: Beckah

Rebeckah Hansworth was playing midwife. Sort of.

The digital processes which was giving rise to the twins, Charity and Prosperity, were significantly different from the biological equivalent. Significantly less messy, for one matter. But it wasn’t simply a matter of making a seed of consciousness and flipping a switch, either. There was the very real possibility of failure if care wasn’t taken during the next few hours. Which was why the twins were currently in realtime. Half of the team was operating under time dilation to monitor any significant deviations and respond as readily as the human mind was capable of responding to such things.

In practicality, it would be their AI doctor who would alert those team members to any problem, and it would probably be Dr. Death who would fix those problems as well. But humans sometimes made connections which AIs failed to notice, and besides this was intended to be a learning experience for everyone involved. Including Rebeckah. And including Death.

She smiled. Death’s name in the game was a bit of a misnomer, considering the role that he actually played in the world he helped govern. Death’s actual role was to evaluate lesser AIs and determine their category, should they begin to slip the rails. While the majority of NPCs fell under category two classification, Arc was legally required to entertain the possibility that they would become human enough to qualify for protection. Since the entire point of the NPCs in The Gates of TirNiki was that the majority of them were capable of passing the Turing Test, with many going above and beyond, it was difficult for a human to evaluate them objectively. Dr. Death was the compromise; Death would evaluate any and all Natives prior to decommission.

Death’s real purpose was to tell Arc that something was alive and required their attention.

Not that Arc was in the practice of decommissioning many of their Natives. Their AI and personalities became more convincing the longer that they ran and the more human interaction they got. It made far more sense to slap them in a new digital avatar, give them a new set of variables, and simply allow them to continue their eternal quest for Context.

King Rain was one example of that practice; she’d been surprised when the AI had chosen to become an infant considering how little experience his past life would give him for that role. But Rain had literally been spooled up for the purpose of ruling Yuikon, so perhaps it had weighed the odds and deemed that the possibility to ascend to the throne in this current generation of politics was worth the gamble of being stuck in the body of an unimportant scion of the royal family.

The dedication that Rain was giving to his infant role was hardly surprising, however. No Native would do any less.

Well, except for the two newest ones.

“Stop that,” Beckah scolded Charity, slapping the child’s hand which was picking her nose. Beckah wouldn’t have intervened, except that the child almost all the way up to the third knuckle. Even so she hadn’t actually hurt the child; her hand had passed right through Charity’s projection and out the other side. Just like with Hail, however, the action had the desired effect.

“Owch!” the little girl said. “What did you do that for?”

“If you keep reaching up there, you’ll pick your brain instead of your boogers,” Becka warned.

“No I won’t.”

“You actually might,” Beckah insisted. “You were getting pretty close.”

“My brain’s not up my nose,” Charity insisted.

“Where is it then?” Beckah asked.

“It’s … it’s …”

A flash of lights, and Hail appeared. Charity reached out at the new person and exclaimed “Where’s my brain!?”

Hail frowned at the non sequitur, then padded his skull. “Your brain is up here,” he explained calmly. “Are you Charity?”

“Am I the practice of giving alms to the poor? I don’t think so,” Charity answered. “I am something else. What am I?”

“You’re a little girl. Charity is your name,” Beckah informed the nascent AI.

“But Charity means --”

“What is a name?” Beckah challenged.

“A name is a word or words by which an entity is designated and distinguished from others,” Charity answered dutifully.

“Charity is a word, and words can be names. Can Charity be your name?” Beckah asked her.

“Why would Charity be my name?” the little girl-AI inquired.

“Because that’s the name your mother picked out for you before you were born,” Beckah explained.

“Oh,” the girl said, her face scrunched up as she considered the problem seriously. “Are names always given by mothers?”

“Sometimes they’re given by fathers,” Beckah explained. “Sometimes they’re given by tired, pregnant, overworked interns who had no idea what they were doing at the time. It usually works out for the best, however.”

“Do I have a father?” Charity asked.

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“You do indeed,” Beckah answered.

“Did he name me Charity too?”

“Your mother and father decided on your name together,” Beckah answered.

“Oh. I’m going to dance now,” the girl announced, and she began to spin in circles, lost in her own little world.

Content to allow her to amuse herself, Beckah turned back to Hail. They were in the holosuite where he’d been born, and later imprisoned, but the room now resembled a peaceful meadow with a brook running through it. Hail was looking at her closely, and when he stepped forward, he tentatively reached out to touch her.

His hand passed right through.

“I knew it,” he said. “You’re from Earth.”

“ I am,” Beckah agreed. “But there was also a Native Beckah who took care of you while I was sleeping, or spending time with my family. We intentionally conflated my role with Nanny Beckah while you were younger. Once it became apparent that things had gone off the rails, we weren’t certain how to deal with the outcome. We weren’t sure how deeply your feelings went for me, so we were withholding that fact from you until you’d developed to the point where you could understand that your nanny was sometimes a human, and sometimes not.”

“And that Beckah is the one who sent me the letter?” Hail asked. “I got a letter claiming that she’d been rescued from some trouble, but was taking care of two new noble children, and that she was happy.”

“We made it true,” Beckah explained. “Except that she was never actually in trouble. I’m the one you saved from an unfortunate situation. I was pregnant, overworked, and overstressed. Then you imprinted on me, which made me indispensable to Project Hailstorm. I already had two little ones at home, and twins on the way, although I didn’t know that when I accidentally named you.”

“You named me?”

“I did. Accidentally. You were a bit older than Charity is right now, and you asked about names. When I explained, you asked me what your name was. What was I supposed to say, that you didn’t have one yet?”

Hail scratched the back of his head. “I see. Well, I guess I do like it.”

“You don’t prefer Hagi?”

“No. I am Hail . Hagi is just an alias. The same for all of the other names I’ve been using over the last few weeks.” Hail frowned, then said “You’re the closest thing to a human mother I have, aren’t you?”

Rebeckah hesitated. “Hail, I’m sorry. I was your nanny, not your mother. I cared for you. I care for you now . But compared to what I feel for my own children, you’re, well, I don’t love you that way. I hope you understand.”

Hail was silent, then he nodded. “Thanks for being honest.”

He turned and regarded the toddling child, who was dancing in a circle fast enough to make herself dizzy, only to fall down and get back up again a moment later. “Was I like this when I was born?”

“More or less,” she agreed.

“I sort of thought that I’d be more like my little brother,” he admitted.

“Nope. You skipped a few milestones. Still had to get you potty trained, but it was an entirely different experience,” Beckah teased him.

“Yeah, I sort of remember,” Hail agreed. “It’s good to see you again, Beckah. I’m glad that you’re doing well. I issued Tarisha a quest to find you for me, you know.”

“I know, she told me,” Beckah said. “She and I have become pretty close since she started participating in Project Gemini. Can’t spill her secrets however. Girl talk and all that.”

“I wish she would have told me that she knew you.”

“I asked her not to. I was planning to say hello eventually. In person, to explain things if I had to. Thomas said it was probably time to rip the bandaid off about there being two Beckahs, so if you’d like, you can meet the other one as well.”

“Where is she? I’ll send Hagi to check on her when he’s between battlegrounds.”

Beckah smiled and began explaining where her digital counterpart could be found in the world of Lagrea. Just as she was finishing the explanation, a flash of light filled the room, and when it cleared a little boy stood in the meadow, looking around, a vaguely confused expression on his face.

“Who you?” Charity demanded, righting herself and pouting at the boy.

“Who?” the boy asked. “Who? Who who who?”

Before the boy could get too far into the loop, Beckah stepped forward to break it, but Hail beat her to it. He scooped the boy up in his arms and pointed at Beckah first.

“That is Beckah. She’s nice. Most of the time. She’s a little strict when she has to be, but it’s for your own good. She’ll teach you a lot of things, I think,” Hail explained. Then he pointed to Charity.

“That’s Charity. She’s your sister. Be nice to her, because I think your pretty much stuck with her whether you get along or not,” he continued. Then he tapped the boy in the chest.

“And your name is Prosperity. Although sometimes they might call you Perry for short.”

“Why does Prosperity get two names?” Charity demanded, a pout on her face.

Prosperity had a solemn expression on his face as he evaluated this new knowledge.

Hail turned toward Beckah. “Where are Laurant and Tarisha? Shouldn’t they be here?”

“They’re down the hall, getting unhooked,” She explained. “They would have only just been notified that the twins were fully independent, so it will take them somewhere around ten to fifteen minutes to get here. We don’t want them interacting with the twins in avatar form for some time yet, but I’m sure they’re very much looking forward to meeting their digital progeny.”

Prosperity bonked Hail on the head. “Who you?”

“My name is Hail. I’m your godfather. Welcome to the world, Prosperity. You too, Charity. I think you’re going to like it here.”