Sim City 4: Touch
21 October 2016
She ran through the trees, dodging, just in case they would use real guns this time. She did not think there were any left since the days of the magnetic shift. Everything had become wired and electrical since then, she had learnt through the data she had skimmed through earlier. Some of the branches caught her hair as she ran but she did not stop even as some of it ripped off. A swarm of birds flew out of the woods as she ran towards them. She could still hear Prime Creator; he was sobbing it seemed. She paused imperceptibly in her flight. She felt forlorn at the idea that she would probably never see him again and then she remembered that not only had he prepared the code to destroy her but he had also pulled the trigger. He did not know then that not only she would survive it but it would actually make her stronger. Her jaw clenched and she resumed her running.
Prime Creator rose from the sands ignoring the extended hand of one of his guards. He felt foolish at having put up such an emotional display. His guards had always known him as a cool, level-headed man with a great deal of power and knowledge. He was angry at the prospect of having fully shattered that image now with her overpowering him and him breaking down over her loss. What fools they both were. He was certain the beasts in the wood would have eaten her by the next morning if she did not simply freeze or fall into one of those traps laid there so many years earlier by the Elders. They too had tried to eradicate the beasts but they were too numerous and their numbers grew too quickly for anyone to master them let alone attempt to eradicate them fully.
He walked back towards the room where his son lay still stunned though recovering slowly his wits. He took him in his arms and his son’s body stiffened. He was not used to his father embracing him and it felt overwhelmingly strange and unpleasant at first. He tried to break away before slowly becoming engulfed by a sense of warmth, almost like when he put the blanket over him during the frosty nights. He raised a tentative hand towards his father’s shoulder and let it rest there. Prime Creator’s body stiffened now as he felt his son’s hand attempt the same soothing movement he was applying on his son’s back.
He had almost forgotten how it felt, this simple exchange. It was not that he had not had any human contact but all the women he had were mere evacuation of his lust. That had been the only thing that he had not gotten ridden of successfully and thankfully he had had in store countless women who enjoyed his company. Some of them were his guards preferred companions but none of them minded the temporary exchange. After all, everything here belonged to Prime Creator and it was pointless trying to keep a sense of ownership over anything because at the end of the day, if one wanted to stay in a clan, one had to be flexible. Out there, there were only the woods on one side and another clan on the other side so why bother?
He had almost forgotten how it felt to love as well. The barely affectionate stance he maintained with his son whom he was grooming to take his place and the curt exchanges with the guards did nothing to sway that. Not even the times he gave in to his lust with one of the many available women had ever changed that as it had meant nothing more to him than clockwork machinery. That was of course until he had created Sim City and her. He cursed inward but could not help feeling that pang of regret that he would never be able to see her or touch her again. He did not long for her in the same way as when he lusted for a woman. That was easier to fulfill as any of the ladies would do and once he was over with it, that lady in particular meant nothing more to him than quenching a thirst with any available water.
With her it was not the same thing. He had watched her as she moved around in the Sim, found her way through things, faltered, found a new way to do what she was unable to do before. It was almost as if she was truly learning by herself and no longer following the code. Countless times he had verified and yes, indeed, she had deviated from the program. He watched as she slept, as she woke up, as she moved, breathed, danced, cried, laughed. Sometimes, he would stay days just watching her and doing nothing else. The first time he had touched her, he had coded himself in stealth mode then jacked into the Sim, flowing around her, touching her teasingly while she battled startled by the ghostly invasion.
The more he had watched her, the more he had wanted to be with her and crept every night into the Sim in stealth mode. She grew accustomed to his presence and he never knew truly whether she resented it or liked it. Sometimes, he would stand right in front of her, watch her gaze at herself in the mirror or at something she was building and marvel at the liquid dark pools animated by intent. He would reach out to her and touch her softly on the cheek or kiss the nape of her neck and she would barely shudder. He never knew what she felt because her changes were never captured in the coding but he had vowed then that he would gather more heuristic data to check her evolution. Now he would never know at all. He winced at the thought of it. He had always hoped that he would be able to reprogram her, even as he had squeezed the trigger of the stun gun, he had thought she would shatter but he could always create her again with the source data from the fragments but now it would be impossible. The image of her body – a body he would never touch again – mangled by the beasts overpowered him and he held on to his son stronger and sobbed again.
Horizons – Puscifer
The Weaver – Puscifer
Telling Ghosts – Puscifer