Bev Good's Questionnaire

New York City. Bev was born here. She grew up by Bay Ridge. She was taught in the cities schools. It is the greatest city in all of the world. It is home to people of all cultures, creeds, religions and finances. It is the most human place in the world. Therefore, it is also the best place to stage the beginnings of technological and human enhancement. It is her home. It is her future. It is the staging ground and center-point for the advancement and techno-evolution of all mankind. New York is a hub of commerce, a centerpoint of trade, and a city with an absurdly high human population.

Bev was paid out a fund equivalent to her built up scholarships during her expulsion — a very nice sum. Most of this went into securing an apartment, permanently. The rest is enough to survive well off of for some time yet, but she has to limit herself or she will blow through it quickly. She has invested some of it, and uses those investments to keep herself afloat— but she doesn’t go for risky ventures or truly ‘work’ the stocks. She does not have the time nor processing power to spare — she is too focused on her research… She also isn’t nearly good enough with money, though she would never admit it. She does not try, so she does not fail. She primarily buys food, water and a variety of electrical components.

The technological singularity is inevitable, if still many decades away. More than that however, is an urge. A need. To be at the center of it all. To have a controlling hand capable of grafting and pathing that explosive singularity of advancement and growth to some degree. To ascend above and beyond mortality, alongside the expanse of machine. To become a god. Godhood is not a goal reached by indecisiveness. It is not attained through kindness, morality or ethics. One must be willing to do anything — no matter how detestable — to ascend the shackles of their human limitations. Sacrifices must be made. Enemies must be killed. She would give up everything short of her own individuality to ascend. In fact, she plans to.

It started out as a few extracurricular assignments for an appreciative professor. She would take on work beyond her station and receive extra marks on her grades — as well as a bonus payout towards her tuition. All while gaining more experience in the fields of robotics, software — AI. Then, he made her the offer. One she could never refuse. A chance to utilize their work together and enhance her to the first stage of potentially-marketable transhuman existence.

But he took some ‘creative liberties’ in their designs. He betrayed her trust. Turned her into his slave. Programmed her to obey his every order. Made her skin from conductive instead of an insulative. He gloated his greatness, and explained how together they would take over Columbia! Then New York! Then -

Then she killed him.

She was made to obey his every demand, but he’d not pre-ordered his own safety. He had not taken nearly enough precautions. So she grabbed him by the throat and choked him to death. One hand fisted deep within his throat to ensure that he could not give her any contrary orders.

Then the school bought her silence, and expelled her from its halls to save face for the incident. She was now without a place to research. Without a place to work. With good money, but she would need to use most of it on a place to live unless she planned to rent. She did not plan to rent.

Professor Machina was a brilliant, if slightly troubled man. He worked long, long hours and then teaches on top of it. Most of Bev’s classmates could not keep up with him — because frankly, he was a horrible teacher. But, he was also tenured. Bev was the exception, and Machina felt that she was perhaps the final key to his lifelong ambition. He tutored her, molded her — and when the time came, he tried to enslave her. Had he asked for her assistance, she likely would have joined him willingly. It was his narcissism and dismissal of her work that brought about his downfall. She still misses him, sometimes. Despite everything.

Paul Good is Bev’s younger brother. He is still a Highschool student, but has potential and genius comparable to his sister. However, when she moved out to Columbia, the two had a falling out. Bev still loves her brother, but he refuses to speak with her. She has not told him about her ‘recent changes’. He is the most important person in her world, but she cannot bring herself to reach out to him again.

Fredrick Tyson is Bev’s ex-boyfriend. He was the only one able to pull Bev out from her studies and work to go live and be human. She used him an important reminder of sociality and mental health. Fredrick left her immediately after the incident. She wasn’t too upset about it, all things told.

Bev did not know her parents very well. From a young age, she was sent to a boarding school for gifted students in Manhattan. She fit in well enough, though she made no real effort for friends or peers. She focused on her studies. She focused on her work. It earned good grades. It taught her a great deal about technology, medicine, science -- not much in the way of humanities, or history. Or ethics. It was a gifted classroom for gifted students -- of course, their talents and future careers needed to be the forefront of their studies. In this way, she never truly alienated herself from her peers. She didn't not fit in.

She even made a few friends indirectly. She was introduced to a book club at the school's library that focused on science fiction. It was through those weekly explorations that she discovered the concept of transhumanism. The ways cybernetics and medicine could extend and improve upon the base human limitations...

Bev Good has never been in love. She has an ex-boyfriend, but she mostly relied on him as a social tool of sorts -- like the book club from boarding school. She spent time with him and offered him attention and physical affection -- he ensured that she went outside, kept up social exposure and spent time with other human beings. He left her very, very quickly after she was augmented. She was more hurt by the way he had abandoned her as a friend over something so asinine. She did not really care all that much about the loss of a 'lover'.

Failure is not an option.

The mission continues, so long as I live.

Failure is not an option.

The world is filled with strange new creatures. New monsters. Animals. Powers. Real magic.

Failure is not an option.

The technological singularity is closer now than ever before. Where before it increased already at an exponential rate, the introduction of the sort of monstrosities and events and monumental discoveries seems to have doubled even further than it was projected to.

The singularity is coming. It is inevitable. It closes in just beyond sight.

When it arrives, humanity will overcome and rise like gods.

Or.

They will all die.

Everyone.

Everything.

Everywhere.

The technology will overtake and consume mankind. As fuel? As a resource? It matters not. They will be lost, forever.

And with the way the world has changed -- it may not be machines that bring about this dominating status quo.

Failure is not an option.

Bev will augment herself. Augment mankind. Fix and improve and change humanity, so that it will not only survive -- but thrive. They will win this war of attrition.

Because failure is not an option...

But it is still possible. It drives Bev. It terrifies her.

It is her greatest motivator.

It is her greatest sorrow.

Subject is a tortoiseshell of an estimated three years. She is a sweet thing, and favors chicken to fish in her treats and canned dinners. I had initially purchased her with the intent of testing my newfound abilities: of furthering my knowledge and expertise at the risk of only a single life -- and one that was not truly 'sapient' for all that it was 'sentient'.

Still. To callously experiment on the life of one that I brought home, into shelter, without even the proper medical practice known or tested? Compromising my 'morality outline' outside of acceptable crisis is a good way to lose my 'humanity'. There is a reason for ethics and care: it helps me to align myself with my inherent humanity. I can compromise these things in the face of great danger, in the face of exceptional advancement, but not in my downtime. Not in my day-to-day. Not in my routine.

Subject is a reminder of these things. A grounding wire, of sorts. I have reason to interact with another life, to build a routine with something of flesh and blood. She is like my Ex-Boyfriend, but without any of the unnecessary necessities involved in a 'romantic relation'. She is my most important belonging, by far, for all of these reasons.

My second most valuable belonging is my comprehensive trauma kit. It is very, very useful.

I lack human contact. I knew that this would happen when I began my research and efforts inside of my apartment. I did not realize how bad it would get. The most meaningful communication I have had in months -- excluding other contractors -- was with a federal agent hoping to bring me to a contract. It was fun. Relaxing, in a way. It also overstepped several bounds I would previously have clung to. The skin and features make socialization and friendships harder, especially due to the NDA on their origin. I hope to try and find work in a field relevant to my interests -- not for need of the money, but for a desire for daily routine and interaction. All I have for now is Subject. I love her, but I hope to avoid growing a dependency upon her -- and likewise, hope to avoid her being overtly attached or dependent on me, when I could be gone for long periods in the future.

When I returned from my latest contract, she at first avoided me bitterly. Then she never left my side. It is worrisome. I need to separate from her more frequently. Yet I also relish in her attention, just as she does my own. I should know better, though. Perhaps I am allowing too much 'emotional attachment'. It is clouding my reason.

There are no 'mornings' for me. Each morning at 0100, I plug myself in to prepare for the day to come. During this time, I will either consume entertainment media so as to be 'caught up' with what is popular -- or I will focus on reading the latest major reports and essays in a variety of scientific fields (most notably, robotics).

Upon completion, I leave my apartment to walk about the city in the darkest hours of dawn. To watch upon the greatest city at its slowest. To build a resonance with the world around me, and with those who still wander it in these ethereal hours.

I am back home by 0600 at the latest. I make breakfast for Subject (who much prefers it to her kibble). After, I continue reading and 'playing' with Subject in varying intervals of time.

By the time of a traditional 'morning', I have been awake and active for many hours. This will continue until 0100 of the next day, during the charging period.

Preparation is key for any given mission. Self presentation is one of the greatest ways to communicate oneself — ideals, desires, ambitions. It showcases dedication. It showcases care and attention to detail. It facilitates an improved IMPRESSION. Which we humans find VERY important. For a grand event, I would opt to mitigate efficiency of clothing and design, as well as convenience, for the sake of display.

While an unfastened laboratory coat may make for poor safety, it could be presented well as an elaboration of an existing outfit.

Makeup is also important. It is one of mankind’s earliest usages of metal, creativity and ingenuity utilized in the alteration of the self. It can take hours finding the perfect look, which is why I have already thoroughly practiced it. It will only take 7 minutes (at current record speeds) to replicate, given immediate access to required materials.

The biggest constraint on time is ready access to supply and material. If my makeup is on hand? I am prepared. If I do not have an appropriately ‘social’ outfit, I can modify my own in a pinch — though having options is always beneficial.

My last birthday, my then-boyfriend threw me a party. There were many of my peers there, a number of our mutual ‘friends’, and an assortment of drinks, foods and other partying ‘necessities’. It was a long and exhausting affair, one I mostly put up with so as to not harm his feelings. He put quite a bit of effort into it, after all.

Next year, I plan to read a book in my room as I pet Subject and plan for the future. It will be as any other day, except that I will be one year older. It means little, when I shall soon overcome the human limitation of age.

Perhaps instead, I should have a ‘party’ for Subject? That seems like a far superior idea.

I knew what I was getting into, at the time.

A chance at a new future. A chance at a new life. The next step in human augmentation.

Everything I could have dreamed.

Everything I had ever wanted. The very reason I began my studies.

I should not have allowed it done by any hand besides my own. He cut into me. He took something vital with him. Now, what am I?

More than human. But, also, less than human. When he took my flesh, my sinew and skin -- did he not also take my very soul?

I am no flesh puppet. I have no beating heart. My insides run cold. They prefer it that way.

I could have done it myself, eventually. Taken the knife. Began my own future.

Instead, I started my eternity down the road he paved.

It cost me my school.

It cost me my life.

It cost me my soul.

The initial machine was... inefficient. Each contract that is completed, the design draws in. I can feel it pressing against me. This inhuman physiology that burdens me -- it wishes to grow. To become something more than it already is. Instead, I plead for my own strengths. I am given pieces and crumbs. If I gave in and allowed my body what it wanted, I am sure I would be a powerful beast. A creature of steel and hate. The inhumanity piercing my very insides, corrupting what is left of my mind.

I ask for new gifts and powers, instead. New items and artifacts and ideas. Conceptual designs for what will someday be commonplace tools. Alien, but ordinary. Eventually. I need these strengths. These reminders. These anchors.

At least, until I am ready.

Until I am strong enough to face what I will inevitably become.

The Machine that once was Human.