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CHARACTERS: Lexa and Steve
WHERE: Churches in Subspace.
WHEN: Day :003 - ???
SUMMARY: Checking into the religions of Opia.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary.

[ Between today and the rally Steve did a bit of exploring around Subspace on his own. His clothes are secondhand and nondescript, not just for his lack of fashion sense - he didn't catch the attention of any of the more unsavory types around the slums when he did his wandering.

Today he's got Lexa with him, and a little more purpose. More familiar with this type of transport, he's the one that gets them on the right train and down into the heart of Subspace. They call these ones bullet trains, and it's not hard to understand why. Looking out the windows from where they stand near the doors is dizzying, rollercoasters don't even go this fast.

Two stops from their destination and he reaches out to her. ]

( Any idea what we should tell them if they ask what we're doing there? )

[ In learning. They've got their backgrounds, but he's not sure anyone's going to care to hear that they're down there looking to get inspiration for Extranet scenarios. Better to stick to the truth where you can, and not just because he doesn't like lying. ]

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[That merits a small hum of consideration. She taps her thumbs absently on the surface of the desk.]

Mother would say life ends when the mind does in the sense that if the brain is destroyed or a person is in some kind of...vegetative state where no thought is being processed and so on. You know. Essentially what law understands to be life and death and all that. But [this her her role in things; to say 'but'] I guess in relation to your other question - whether the copy of the mind can be trusted... I suppose it depends on how you define life, doesn't it? Is life just the magical, accidental relationship between the flesh and the firing synapses? Or does will effect it somehow? Is what shapes will really some special spark unique to the individual, or does it matter if someone else gives you direction? Personally, I would say life is defined by action - what you do; who you love and how - and that it's not based on any kind of real stability. Like-- things that don't change? More, it's based on things that are changing or developing all the time based on what you believe or what other people do to change you or reaffirm you or... something like that.

[She clears her throat awkwardly. It feels like she's strayed from the point.]

I guess I wonder if it matters whether you've been altered or not because we're altered all the time by people but that doesn't mean the version of ourselves that used to be alive is dead; it just means we've changed and we change all the time.

[At Steve's words, her eyebrows knit together. It's clear by now to her that they stand on opposite sides of this discussion. She may have to explain later where she comes from. Lexa recalls Nirad's words about ensuring that other people know about her plan, and what precisely is happening with her.]

I'd say it matters less that someone changed the memory, altering it in some way, and how they went about it. If the memory banks ... evolve in some way, that's different from forcibly accessing the ... [What's the word?] The data. [She knows that the Commanders who are given "life" via her chip do evolve and change according to which body the chip is in, and what advice might be needed along the way. (Of course, she only knows the full extent of that now, like information coming together long last.)]

Can I ask whether your views are known to Mother? Would she accept your perspective on this matter?

[ His frown deepens. It's not a question of whether they died, in that case. Influence and manipulation - people can be changed in the real world that way, but there's still a difference between that and the ability to poke around in the essence of someone so directly.

He waits for the answer to Lexa's questions. ]

Oh, I'm not saying it would be ethical to change the data. [That she hurries to tack on and there's a flicker in her expression that suggests she's clearly disgusted by the idea - as appalled as if they were discussing an assault.] Just that sometimes things happen to us that we can't control but that doesn't make us, I don't know, aberrations.

[Maybe she should've poured herself a cup of tea? --In any case, Judtia clears her throat and shifts in her seat. For all her attempts to shake her faint unease, the question of Mother seems to stick.]

Mother wouldn't agree, but of course she'd accept that I have a right to my opinion. Otherwise what would the point be? I'd be a terrible Daughter if I just took things at face value.

[Are they suggesting she's bad at her place in the temple? No, probably not; they didn't seem to know much about the ceremonies at all. Those preconceptions were more and more common these days. Imagine - that there might be people out there who didn't even know the three principles.]

[Still, it means that even within a system such as this one, there could be differences of opinion on what seems to be such an important matter in this world. If nothing else, that would help them moving forward.

She glances toward Steve.]

Surprisingly enough, I don't have any other questions. Do you?

[ He doesn't quite have all the details about what being a Daughter entails, but Judtia gets a faint, lopsided smile for the last part. To Lexa he thinks for a moment before shaking his head. ]

We've got enough to think on for now. [ Maybe more questions than answers, but with Extranet at their disposal, they've got more avenues to explore after these talks. Back to Judtia: ] Thanks for taking the time to talk with us.

[She hesitates, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. That's-- it? She'd been expecting... something more. Tears, maybe? No, not so dramatic as that. But certainly something a little more involved. She can't believe it really has much to do with being particularly good at her job either. Sure, she is good (she knows every Principle and Precept by heart), but it feels like she's hardly said anything at all to them.]

Oh. Alright. [Judtia regards their cups of tea, still gently steaming.] Happy to help. If you have any other questions in the future, you know where to find us.

[Ah, the tea. That does need to be handled first.]

We should drink the tea. I don't think we expected to find our answers so quickly, either. [And if they rush out, it might be suspicious.]

I think we might be back soon, but we need to consider ... where life begins and ends. If you will.

[ He's actually gripping the sides of the chair to stand up - and then sits back down, regarding the tea for a second before taking it in his hands. Frowns at it for a few seconds, racking his brain for more of what Sam had mentioned. ]

It's - [ his head tilts, eyes cast down and brow furrowing ] - I've actually got this friend, and I know, usually when folks say that they're honestly just talking about themselves, but he's an actual person and he... has strong opinions about synthetic life. [ another pause ] I guess you could call him a Separatist in all but name. [ A quick glance at Lexa comes with the image of Sam Anders projected, attempting to keep her on the same page - or at least let her know he's not completely pulling this out of nowhere. ] Everything I've ever been taught says I ought to disagree with him on the idea that we can someday wholly bring back someone we've lost. And I still don't believe that that's possible without losing something important in the process, but when it comes to androids... I don't know that I could look one in the eye and say that it doesn't have a soul. Or that it's lesser, just for being what it is.

[ His mouth forms a thin line and he stops there.

Still hasn't drank any of his tea. ]

Edited 2016-06-09 00:34 (UTC)

[Oh, she definitely should have made herself a cup of tea.

For a moment, Judtia goes very still behind her desk. She sets her tongue to the back of her teeth to keep from chewing on it and shifts her hands absently from the edge of the desk to her lap. It's easier to lace her fingers together there, grinding the pads of her thumbs across the points of her knuckles. Her thumb is still tender from where she burned it on the light, she realizes. If she focuses on the dull ache of it, it's easier to dismiss the sensation of prickling sweat from the back of her neck.

Her attention on Steve is very direct, her expression flat - unimpressed, maybe.]

But if you believe that we can't reproduce humanity through, uh, digital preservation but why would you think that something created from scraps has anything special about it? Wouldn't that just make it a very convincing fake?

[The information about Anders is new to Lexa. All she knows about him is his poor choice of tattooing instruments, and the fact that their worlds are similar, with similar circumstances. They aren't the same, but they're close enough that she felt like she barely had to tell him anything. That they have another point of similarity is curious to her.

She clearly makes a note to discuss that with him later, and even the "we have something similar going on" bleeds in the link between her and Steve. She doesn't bother to hide it.

All of the Hosts will know soon enough.]

How can it be fake if it's not imitating anything? [She considers this thought, not knowing where she stands when a human mind isn't introduced in the first place.]

[ The thought Lexa shares has his brow furrowing, seemingly at nothing to anyone not privy to the secondary conversation. He's quick to tilt his head in agreement with what she says out loud though - she's quicker to put into succinct words the point he's trying to make, which, in the end, is belief without proof. ]

They've been made to look human, but they're not made to become a specific person that already existed.

That's true, but they're still an engineered imitation of life aren't they? Maybe not a particular individual but as people we usually end up making things that are somehow familiar to us. [Unseens, under the edge of the desk, Judtia scrubs the knuckles of one hand under the thumb of the other.]

It's the same as any other fiction, right? A book character might be really well written and seem like a real person, but it's just a combination of things someone else put together. You can ask any android; they know they aren't the same thing.

Do you think what defines life is the ability to change, then? To evolve, even if you've been brought to life by something or someone else? [Truthfully, she almost would rather Steve and Justia discuss this, but that's part of why most of her comments at this point are questions. Her thoughts are meant to be more philosophical prompting than anything else.

After her interjection, she takes her tea and sips at it finally.]

[ His tea is getting lukewarm. ]

I don't think it's just that. [ The ability to change. Not on its own. ] And maybe you're right, they're not the same thing and I'll get that same answer if I ask one of them, but maybe they don't have to be exactly the same as us. [ Close, but something else - like Sam, born to a world where it was somehow possible for that to happen no different than between two regular humans. His mouth twists to one side, he's getting a bit worked up. ] This whole business of creating in our own image and then turning around to say they're no different from words on a page is playing with fire.

[She flicks a look between the two of them, something in her expression tightening briefly before it's wiped clean away. Her hands remain in her lap, carefully placed, and when she speaks there's an air of ambivalence there:]

I can't say you're wrong or that I necessarily disagree, I just know that I see how the android sentience question really has much to do with why you two came here.

[Is that frustratingly dense enough? She thinks yes, probably.]

It's not the sentience, but rather whether life can ever truly end. Should we be trying to preserve our lost loved ones, and would they appreciate it? And if we have preserved them in some way, is it still really them? Are we seeking comfort for them or us, and how do we define that? I believe we thought that we'd have some kind of answer coming here, but we're still at a loss.

[This is a recovery more than anything, because she knows they've gotten off track. But still, she believes it's relevant just the same.]

[ An exhale and his mouth forms a thin line as the conversation circles back to the start again. So much for not taking things at face value. ]

[There, that's better. There's something in the staunch line of Judtia's shoulder that gives by a fraction as the topic angles back.]

I believe - and I know Mother would say the same, actually - that no, life doesn't end. That's the basic concept behind the World, isn't it? [She turns very slightly in her chair and motions back to the statuette in the window.] Everything we are or create is going into the world somehow and the same thing happens when we die. We become the universe and shape what comes next. Your-- [A hesitation; her hands rise from her lap and she sets them, clasped still, on the desk] I mean, I don't want to make light of your grief obviously, but something about your loss brought you here to talk about this. Their influence isn't completely gone then.

[To Steve's response, there is simply a sense of derision sent through their link, through their tie of the Nest. She doesn't send words, but it's as if she's practiced this sense of authoritative chastisement. Even if his curiosity has a place in their overall mission, they can't risk being found out.

She is not here for herself, but as she refocuses on what Justia says, Lexa recalls a conversation in a time that now seems like it was long ago, even if it was just a few months. Her lips twist downward, and it's obvious that she's trying to mask her emotions. Lexa might be practiced in it, but she doesn't want to look like she's in pain.

The reality is this: she still feels it, even if she's meant to be faking. The grief is real, just as it ever is.]

Even if you might pretend otherwise. Some people act on that grief in certain ways. And some of us question what is, or isn't really life, as a result. Almost to hope to find an answer, but no one's ever really left us. We give someone an outlet to live on.

[She both believes and doesn't believe in the core of these words, as if she's puzzling over them.]

[ His jaw tightens for Lexa's wordless chastising, gaze lowered to the cup of tea between his hands. ]

My mother was religious. [ - is what he reluctantly supplies to this part of the conversation after a short pause, figuring better that than to sit in silence. It was her influence that kept him going to Sunday Mass after she was gone. It's those teachings, entwined with the earliest parts of his life, that have him sitting here in contradiction. ]

See, that's exactly what I mean.

[She's nodding along, a hand raising faintly to brush her knuckle thoughtfully against the point of her chin. This is a much easier topic, she thinks. Well done, Judtia. Expertly navigated. Mother would be proud.

--Not that Mother needs to know. Good goddess, no. Still, that was a clever bit of redirection. If there was every a point to telling Mother about these things, she'd be sure to detail this part for her own self-satisfaction.

Still: her expression is soft enough, the lines of her face empathetic by practice as much as nature.]

If it weren't for what those people taught you, what they continue to teach you, maybe we wouldn't be here at all. I don't know about you but I kind of find that comforting - like I'm exactly where I'm meant to be, I guess.

[Those final words resonate within her, but likely not in the way that this religion believes. Still, their idea of spirituality isn't so far removed from Lexa's, and from the way her people have adapted to their lifestyles in a world of survival. Even if she knows the truth of what lies inside of her, she doesn't feel as if she was chosen any less.]

Do you believe that all living things have a purpose to fulfill? [she asks, looking at Steve out of the corner of her eye but not fully acknowledging him. The fact that his mother was religious is interesting to her, but only because she doesn't know precisely what religion he followed. What he said to her before indicates as much, but—still.

She knows so little. She has so little certainty.]

Of course.

[That's prompt, immediate and blessedly simple. Judtia underscores it with a curt nod.]

Maybe not a big one, but everyone and everything is here for some reason. Some people would probably call that being really optimistic or idealistic, but I think it just makes sense. We're all part of the world - or, uh, the universe really -, and it's part of us. I've never seen anything in the whole world that didn't somehow exist in a give and take... ecology, I guess? We're here to give things out into the universe and to take them back from it. We're here to effect change.

[A flicker of hesitation. She splits a look between the two of them, then finally simply eases back into her chair by a half degree and moves her hand to tap a small device at the corner of her desk. It's evidently a clock; the holographic display lights up with the time under her touch.]

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to trap you here. [She laughs absently, a thin noise.] A second ago it seemed like you two were ready to go and then off I went.

We were, but like I said, it would be rude to leave without drinking even a little of your tea. It would go to waste. [From what Lexa knows about this level of this world (this city), things here are likely more difficult to obtain. She doesn't want it to seem as if they are taking anything for granted. In the end, she knows how far a simple gesture like that can carry them.]

If we have more questions, is there an easier way to contact you? [It may come up as they explore more, trying to find their footing with their mission here.]

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assuming that there's supposed to be a "don't" in that second sentence

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