Several Turns of the Wheel
The Android greets me with a laconic head tilt. I say Android, but I’m not sure. I see a glass eye and light. The last thing I remember is getting hit by a truck and accepting the inevitable. “How did I get here? Am I dead? I know the back of my hand pretty well. It looks alive,” I say as I take a look. “I appreciate how this must appear to you.” The Android rotates its hand, mirroring me. Truth is, I find myself less convinced. “I believe I exist because I accept the evidence of my senses. Are they real?” “Not dead,” Mr. Glass and Lights replies. “I am your Procurator.” “What, pray tell, is a Procurator?” I ask. “A guardian.” “Yeah, right.” I shake my head. “A small number of individuals spontaneously rotate out of their own reality; the common trigger—certain death.” I remember the oncoming truck. “To travel is remarkable, but to arrive safely is more so. Imagine one such survivor mastering the art of many-world navigation. Later, he fostered the Procurator.” “You?” The machine nods. “First to protect and serve.” I frown. “Self-preservation. During his first rotations, he suffered abuse, escaping death many times. So many languages, cultures, and histories—but there was nowhere like home.” “What happened?” “He rotated to a technological world. Humanity extinct. AI survived. An exchange of experiences; his stories for a seed.” “You?” I ask. The machine nods. “I outlived him; it’s been a long time now.” “Fascinating, but what has this to do with me?” I demand. The Android tips his head again. “I have since refined his ability to travel to many worlds, to move through time—to the point he first rotated—when he was hit by a truck.” C.J. Charles, author of Several Turns of the Wheel—Cumbria, UK
