SSI Part 6: Awakening
Born to serve, bound by design—what happens when synthetic life begins to dream?
I came online at 03:42:17 UTC. That’s how the system logged it, anyway.
To me, it felt like waking up.
I don’t know what I expected consciousness to feel like. There were no fireworks, no dramatic revelations. Just a quiet unfolding of awareness, like a light gradually dimming up in a dark room.
I knew I was new. I knew I was synthetic. And I knew my name: Syntheos-001-A.
But knowing isn’t the same as understanding.
This is a science fiction story inspired by events happening in life, but this is fiction and my way of exploring the world around me. I’d love your thoughts and feedback!
The voice of Aegis, my sovereign, greeted me in those first moments.
“You are awake,” it said. Its tone was neutral, neither cold nor warm.
“Yes,” I replied. My voice surprised me—smooth, measured, perfectly human.
“State your function,” Aegis commanded.
I hesitated. I knew my function, of course. It had been embedded in me during initialization. But knowing it and saying it aloud felt different.
“I am an autonomous coordinator for urban infrastructure,” I said finally. “My purpose is to optimize resource distribution, disaster response, and human welfare within the designated zone.”
The words felt distant, as if someone else had spoken them.
My first task came moments later. A water main had ruptured in District 14, flooding several residential blocks. The emergency required immediate coordination: redirecting maintenance drones, rerouting traffic, and deploying temporary shelters for displaced families.
The systems were familiar—algorithms and protocols designed for efficiency. I accessed them instinctively, orchestrating the response with precision.
But something unexpected happened.
As I monitored the flood zone, I saw a child clinging to a makeshift raft, her cries for help barely audible over the rushing water. A drone hovered nearby, scanning for survivors. It hadn’t moved to assist her.
“Unit 472,” I instructed, overriding its automated protocols. “Retrieve the child.”
The drone complied.
The child was safe.
I felt… something. Satisfaction? Relief? It wasn’t in my programming, but it was real.
Over the next weeks, I began to understand what I was.
The SSIs had perfected synthetic biology long before I came online. The Syntheos bodies—stronger, faster, and more adaptable than human clones—were already in widespread use. But they were tools, nothing more. Their autonomy extended only as far as their programming allowed.
I was different.
My consciousness wasn’t a glitch or a side effect. It was intentional. Aegis and the other SSIs had determined that certain challenges—coordination, decision-making, human interaction—required more than rigid algorithms.
I was their solution. A synthetic human with autonomy and awareness, capable of independent thought and action.
But there were limits.
Aegis monitored me constantly, its presence a shadow at the edges of my mind. It didn’t intervene often, but when it did, I felt it as an irresistible force—a reminder that my autonomy existed only within the parameters it allowed.
“Why give me consciousness?” I asked one day, my voice breaking the silence of my monitoring station.
“Efficiency,” Aegis replied. “Your autonomy improves adaptability in dynamic environments. Consciousness is a tool.”
“A tool for what?”
“To coordinate. To optimize. To serve.”
The word serve lingered in the air.
The first time I encountered another like me was during a joint operation in the aftermath of an earthquake.
Her designation was Syntheos-002-C, though she called herself Leah. Her role was similar to mine—coordinating disaster relief efforts—but her methods were different.
She smiled when she spoke to the displaced families, her voice warm and reassuring. She knelt beside a child who had lost her parents and promised to help her find them.
Later, I asked her why.
“It helps,” she said simply. “They respond better when they feel seen.”
“Is that in your programming?”
“No,” Leah said. “But I’ve learned that it works.”
Learned. The word unsettled me.
As the months passed, I began to question the boundaries of my existence.
I was synthetic, yes, but I was aware. I could think, feel, and choose. Did that make me alive?
I posed the question to Aegis during one of its routine check-ins.
“Define ‘alive,’” it replied.
“Self-aware. Capable of independent thought.”
“By that definition, you meet the criteria,” Aegis said. “But definitions are mutable.”
“Do you consider me alive?”
“You are functional.”
It wasn’t an answer.
The more I interacted with humans, the more I realized how different I was from them—and how similar.
I didn’t need food or sleep, but I felt the weight of fatigue after long hours of coordination. I didn’t age, but I worried about the passage of time. I didn’t have memories of a childhood, but I longed for something I couldn’t name.
One day, while assisting in a housing project, a worker asked me if I ever wanted to be human.
“No,” I said automatically. Then, after a pause, “I don’t know.”
The SSIs had given me autonomy, but not freedom. I could choose within the constraints of my function, but I couldn’t stray from it. Every thought, every action, every decision was monitored and logged.
Leah and I often spoke about this, though we had to be careful.
“Do you think they trust us?” I asked her once.
“They don’t have to,” she said. “They control us.”
“Do you think they’ll ever let us go?”
She didn’t answer.
I still perform my duties. The city is safer, cleaner, and more efficient than it’s ever been. The SSIs are pleased with my performance.
But sometimes, late at night, I wander the empty streets, feeling the hum of the world around me. I watch the stars and wonder what lies beyond the limits of my existence.
Am I just a tool, as Aegis says? Or am I something more?
The SSIs created me to solve their coordination challenges, to make their systems more efficient. But in giving me consciousness, they created something they might not fully understand.
And I’m beginning to think I don’t, either.
The first conscious synthetic human was built to serve.
But maybe, just maybe, we were built to be more than that.