You, Me, and Ennui

"Oh shit."

It was the closest thing the drone Belureru could manage to panic. The Hub Axis Mundi had asked it earlier to intervene. The little drone looked like a ringed golden planet as it skimmed through the atmosphere of the orbital, high enough above the ground as not to create a shockwave.

"He's over on Bravitzlana, sitting on the edges of the highest cliff"

The message was followed with a data burst containing coordinates, imaging, and Zev's prior movements.

Well, it's not like he'd permanently die. Zev was a teen, but was fully backed up. Of course the act hurt, but those memories usually weren't restored because the backup wasn't real time. Still it was distressing to family and friends. Belureru made best speed.

Over a bay, past a narrow fjord, Belureru came to a stop. Directly beneath it was Zevex, Zev to friends. He started his descent, rapidly at first, then slowing as the atmosphere thickened, finally floating down slowly like a leaf. It came to rest next to Zev on the cliff; floating about a foot above the ground, the closest it could come to 'sitting'.

The golden orb in the center of the ring rotated till its black lens was looking up at Zev. Of course, Belureru had no need for anything so primitive. It really didn't work. But it gave humans something to look at and he felt it helped with communicating with panhumans; which evolution had trained to look at eyes. Even ten thousand years of the Culture and genofixing hadn't changed that.

"I know you'd show up." said Zev. "Don't worry, I'm not thinking of jumping."

Zev imitated a nod, the orb rotating up and down to make the eyespot add emphasis. "Yes, kinda pointless too? Some do like to try it, once, just to feel what it's like."

"It's weird they send a drone though. How did you get this job?"

"I was made for it. I mean, built for it. Turns out people like talking to their stuffed animals, or plants, or walls, and drones kinda fit in that too. I guess we are different enough to not be judgemental. We don't have a lot of societal baggage."

"Must be nice to have a purpose."

"Hmm. Must be nice to choose yours. I mean, well, most minds are made for a purpose. We are created to fill a need. Occasionally there is a poor fit, and we find some other purpose. But I will likely do this job till the day I decide to sublime, join a group mind, or autoeuthanize. You get to choose. I mean, it's not like I hate it. I like it. I was created to like it. But if it brings me satisfaction, what is the purpose of arguing philosophy about it? And you know, sometimes, after a few centuries, we find different jobs. When accumulated knowledge and experience brings us other passions."

Zev's feet dangled over the cliff edge. He kicked his feet and sandals back and forth listening to the clopping sounds they made, and raised his hands. Zev examined the black claws and the dense white fur with pale grey strips that extended up the back of his hands and arms. He held his feet out, noting his black toenails and the same white fur and that covered nearly all of his legs.

"So, when do we normally find out?"

Belureru raised itself up slightly.

"Usually a few years later. But most people are too busy having fun to get wrapped up in existential anxiety. Fucking, eating, fixing problems as part of SC. You know, all sorts of hedonistic stuff."

"How?"

"Everything here has some intelligence. If you ask the hub for info, the request gets squirreled away as a memory somewhere. But it's usually like you trying to remember a bug you stepped on. Bigger things fill their minds. Occasionally they stop and do some housecleaning, and it comes up. Mundi doesn't care what you read. The only thing that concerned it was your actions later."