I sat on the bus to Sillwood University, my brain repeating the same stupid worries over and over in a circle. What if you out yourself at school? What if Alek threatens to out you? What if you do something else stupid?
To distract myself, I scrolled through a paranormal message board. One user, Crawler012 said: “Guys I don’t think it’s aliens. Look at this, clearly it’s parasites.”
The video showed a person slamming a door shut, but just before it happens there’s a glimpse of a large tentacle sprouting from their back.
ParaCraig responded: “Fake. Besides, parasites from where, dumbass? If you say space, that’s just an alien.”
Crawler012: “They’ve been in stasis in the glaciers. With temps rising, they’ve been unleashed. Please, ur going to tell me this vid is fake when u were posting bullshit U.A.P. videos all last week?”
ParaCraig: “It’s clearly computer generated. My BrainBox can make that. Look, I’ll prove it.”
They posted a video that showed a different person, also slamming a door, with several tentacles emerging and writhing from their back. Admittedly, it looked very real, just like the first.
xXNighxX: “You’re both idiots. It’s skinwalkers and they’ve already won. They’ve seeded the AIs of the world so that they can transform in public and get away with explaining as CGI. Humanity is doomed. It’s time to give up our spot as the apex lifeform on earth.”
From there the forum devolved into name calling and I sighed and put away my phone. The university sign came into view, “Welcome to Sillwood University. Growing the Greats of the Future.” Beyond it, the campus buildings stood proud, against the backdrop of tall trees. The university reflected the strong points of the city. A heavy focus on medicine and technology, with a substantial program for robotics.
The campus was packed with students ready for their first day of classes. I got off the bus and immediately swerved to avoid the main path that was lined with tables set up to provide students with information and pamphlets for various opportunities and clubs. I kept my head down, trying not to freak out as people pushed past, their faces coming uncomfortably close to mine.
Once I was clear of the crowd, I stopped and took stock of my surroundings. One of the nearby buildings was the Biology and Prosthetics Faculty, large and L-shaped with tall windows. I headed towards it.
I spotted Kay, sitting at a table and talking to first years. She looked up and I quickly turned away. She’d been nice to me outside of school, but she obviously had friends already. I wouldn’t prey on her kindness and intrude on that.
Entering the building, I had to squeeze past some students who had stopped to chat directly in front of the doors.
Nell had opted to stay at Kay’s house, perhaps sensing that I was already stressed about starting university again, so I was alone with my thoughts. It was strange that this was what felt like the fantasy now. I’d been so obsessed with learning all I could about Shaping that the thought of having a normal conversation seemed foreign. Or maybe I never knew how to have a ‘normal’ conversation.
After walking through the building for a while, I found the lecture hall for my first class. I’d come early, but there were already a lot of people sitting and chatting. The back row was still only sparsely populated so I took a seat by myself. The table had a fairly large lip that I could stick my hands under. Alright, I can get some practice in at least.
Ten minutes later a portly man with curly red hair and a brown suit came in. He took his time walking to the front, looking around the classroom and greeting students. I hadn’t had him before. He got to the lectern at the front and spun around, clapping his hands together.
“Good morning class, welcome to Vertebrate Physiology.” He spoke with practiced ease in front of the large class, calmly piercing through the din of fifty other conversations. The class fell silent quickly.
“I’m Dr. Conan Sheehan, your professor for this course. Before we get into the syllabus, there’s something I like to do at the beginning of each class. We’re going to have a short discussion, tangentially relevant to your studies. So,” he leaned casually against the lectern and stared with bright eyes at the students, “what do you all know about evolution? We all look and work the way we do because of it. It’s a form of adaptation, change outside of our control. You could almost call it the mandatory base level of change. But we voluntarily change much faster than that, don’t we?”
I laughed internally. Much, much faster than you know.
“In fact, the speed of change is growing exponentially faster with the advancement of technology. We augment ourselves in ways evolution could never, with social media, robots, search engines. But my question to you is this. What happens when we can’t handle the level of change we’re putting on ourselves?”
The class was reluctant to speak. Stifled coughs and the creak of chairs echoed in the silence. I sighed and held my hands beneath the table. Bone sprouted from my fingertips and began to weave small shapes across my palms. Professors trying to stimulate conversation was always rough at the start. We would soon see if anyone in this class was talkative.
Dr. Sheehan seemed unperturbed. “This is the easy part, folks. What is an example of change no longer isolated to our bodies?”
A small voice near the front said something unintelligible.
Dr. Sheehan zeroed in on them. “Sadly, I haven’t evolved the ears of a hound for my profession. Speak up please.”
The student cleared their throat and spoke louder, “Computers.”
“Yes, we offload change to computers and automated machinery. And as we reach new technological heights, the pointed usefulness our bodies provide for us shrinks. What do you think is the next step of that process? What kind of change is left to offload, hm?”
A student raised their hand. The professor gestured to them. “Yes, feel free to just speak. You don’t need my permission, only my goodwill.”
A voice sounded out. “Creative change. Moral change.”
Sheehan smiled and spread his hands. “Yes! Good. What can fill the role of creativity and morals besides our own brains or souls?”
The hall fell silent.
Sheehan moved his fingers, beckoning. “That was not rhetorical. I’m thinking of something that exists today.”
“Artificial intelligence!” Someone near me shouted out.
Sheehan pointed at the person and looked around the room. “Right you are! Despite the name, the increasingly popular ‘BrainBoxes’ have nothing to do with human brains. We’re beginning the process of creating a technology that can think, reason, and create at levels beyond our own.”
“Professor,” a student spoke out near the front, “A.I. is only doing that because we made it to. You’re implying that we would become irrelevant, but I don’t think that’s true. This isn’t science fiction, professor. There will always be something that artificial intelligence lacks that humans will need to fulfill.”
The professor nodded his head, looking pensive. “Perhaps you are right. But maybe that is the pride of being at the top of the intelligence pyramid for our entire existence that is talking. I think that it is valuable to ask the question, if we are no longer necessary for any purpose in the advancement of our own species, what will we do instead? We seem alright with robots taking our jobs as long as we can find new purpose in other tasks. But what about robots taking our art? Our philosophy? There may come a point where we will no longer understand the reasoning of A.I. even though we used reason to create them.”
The discussion was interesting, but my mind was stuck on the preposition. No one is asking the question of what we will do if human bodies continue to change. The bones between my hands formed a strange geometric shape. Would it be a good thing if we surpassed the capacity of machines?
The rest of Vertebrate Physiology class was a slog. Introductory stuff that I already knew from the previous year stacked on top of the dread of having large assignments due in the distant future. Around five minutes till the end of class, people began preemptively packing up. Professor Sheehan seemed to recognize this and wrapped up quickly.
“I hope I will see you all on Wednesday!” He declared and then bustled out of the room with surprising speed. It amused me that Professor Sheehan acted like we did, reluctant to begin class and in a hurry to finish. I followed in his wake, slipping out before the rest of the class exited in mass.
I had about an hour to kill before my next class. Most classes were still ongoing and so the halls were sparsely populated. There was a small window of time to find a quiet place before the campus became flooded once more. I passed a classroom door and glanced through the window. Inside, a professor was showing the class a robotic prosthetic leg. The leg was covered in fake skin for the most part, but from the ankle down it was a see-through plastic and mechanical parts could be seen moving inside, rotating the ankle around the joint.
I passed the gymnasium. The double doors were open, and inside there was a group of athletes shooting basketballs at the hoop. It dawned on me that some professional athletes may be Wolves. That throws fairness into question. Can’t really expect a regular human to compete with someone like that.
My heart beat a little faster as I exited the building. I was excited to try something. A new Shape.