Summary:
Pleasure: A trap for the mind or a friend? To answer this question, the robotic fairy Lumi ventures into an underground club where, according to rumours, other fairies indulge in various vices. The story blends popular science, philosophy, and humour, set against the backdrop of the fairy-inhabited planet Elysia.
The “Cyber Fairies” series is a collection of popular science fiction stories about robotic, cybernetic, and organic fairies living in futuristic domed cities on Elysia, a planet reminiscent of Mars. Explore philosophy and science with a touch of humour. As the series progresses, the fairies encounter diverse beings with entirely different value systems.
With a graceful flutter of her translucent white wings, Lumi descended towards the lower levels of Solaris. Fairies seldom visited this part of the dome-covered city, favouring the sunlit, well-maintained upper tiers. As the robotic fairy glided down, the cool air gently played with her platinum blonde hair, which shimmered with a metallic sheen and was styled in a wavy ponytail. Driven by curiosity and apprehension sparked by ominous rumours, she ventured into the shadowy technical sector.
Lumi adjusted her vision to compensate for the dim light, ensuring she wouldn’t miss the inconspicuous door hidden by towering transformers and roaring pumps. The faint glow from the occasional signal lamp softly illuminated her polished cyan and blue suit. Finally, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a flickering neon sign, strangely out of place here, proclaiming: “Hack Your Reward Function Today!” The elegant fairy landed softly nearby and immediately noticed an unassuming door leading to a private club infamous for its eerie tales. Allegedly, hedonistic outcasts lured robotic fairies to disassemble them for parts, drove cybernetic ones insane, and turned organic fairies into drug-addicted zombies.
Lumi, ever the rational thinker, dismissed these outlandish stories. After all, what fairy wouldn’t relish the chance to hear, embellish, and share an intriguing tale of the unknown? Still, her eyes with silver-white irises scanned the surroundings meticulously for any signs of danger. Finding none, Lumi issued a command on her internal interface. With a satisfying click and faint hum, her dragonfly-like wings, with their geometric elegance, retracted into a small compartment on her back, accentuating her slender figure.
As Lumi crossed the threshold, she was immediately taken by the warmth of the cosy foyer. The ambience was festive, courtesy of old-fashioned LED lamps wrapped in multicoloured fabric, casting a soft, inviting glow. The walls were adorned with an eclectic mix of artwork: richly painted oil banquet scenes alternated with animated optical illusions flickering on ancient two-dimensional screens.
The elegant fairy approached leisurely towards the reception desk, where, according to the pop-up on her internal screen, Vectra, the club’s owner, was busy at work. In stark contrast to Lumi’s sleek and shimmering appearance, Vectra’s form was decidedly more utilitarian.
Her dull aluminium frame, carefully polished to remove traces of corrosion, bore the marks of numerous repairs, with visible seams crisscrossing her structure. Instead of advanced artificial muscles, her moderately slender body was powered by inefficient but well-maintained servomotors, their mechanics well-oiled and reliable.
Beside Vectra, an antiquated monitor buzzed with life, cycling through advertisements, club regulations, and service catalogues. “That’s for organic fairies,” Lumi deduced. Clearly, they couldn’t connect to the administrator’s consciousness via a wireless network. The club owner, seemingly oblivious to the new arrival, was engrossed in working with a soldering iron inside the belly of a robotic bee. The mechanical helper buzzed and fidgeted, eager to return to its tasks.
From the spacious hall beyond, lively conversations and the melodies of musicians playing piano, cello, and violin filled the air. Occasionally, robotic bees would politely escort winged guests deeper into the club. Surprisingly, Lumi’s sensors detected no traces of opiates or alkaloids in the air. It seemed the organic fairies were genuinely enjoying sweets and teas. However, Lumi wasn’t inclined to philosophise about the potential dangers of glucose and caffeine.
“Hello, Vectra!” Lumi greeted warmly, doing her best to mask any hint of anxiety. “I’ve heard that fairies in your club experiment with their minds and sensory perception for pleasure.”
The club owner responded with a cold smirk. “Yup. So?”
Her orange irises fixed on the newcomer. Another one here to lecture me, she thought.
Lumi kept her tone serious. “The problem,” she continued, “is that cybernetic and organic fairies could suffer greatly.
Vectra rolled her eyes wearily and asked, as if by rote, “And how, may I ask?”
Lumi assumed a genuine misunderstanding and elaborated. “Even the simulation of psychoactive substances, which artificially increase dopamine production, can cause addiction. Hacking the brain’s reward system sets off a dangerous cycle. Long ago, scientists conducted an experiment: they implanted electrodes in a rat’s brain and placed a button within reach. Each press brought pleasure, and the rat, driven by this, stopped eating, drinking, and sleeping—it kept pressing the button until near death. Thankfully, the experiment was halted. I can list numerous examples from our ancient history. The consequences of harmful substance use led to decline, wars, and even partial societal collapse. So, my concern isn’t baseless. And how can I trust you to stop such an ‘experiment’ if it’s my friend instead of a rat?”
Vectra merely chuckled. Her purple hair, styled into two chic buns, highlighted her audacity and confidence. Reading the pop-up identifying her visitor, she replied with a touch of irony and a hint of envy, “Lumi, for a next-gen robotic fairy, you’re seriously lacking in imagination. Let’s leave organic matters aside and focus on machine learning. Tell me, why do we need a reward function?” The metallic lines on her face glinted, artfully masking imperfections and adding a mysterious charm to her smile.
“It’s feedback,” Lumi began. “Without it, an algorithm wouldn’t ‘know’ which actions lead to positive results and which to negative.”
Vectra sipped her glowing purple drink, making no move to offer Lumi a second cup. The visitor continued, “A programmer fine-tunes the reward function to help the machine to master new skills quicker.” Lumi was about to elaborate further, but the club owner cut her off.
“Fascinating!” Vectra exclaimed with sarcasm. “So, fine-tuning of the reward function has its perks? I thought you were going to lecture me about societal collapse again.” She set her cup down and stood up, accidentally hitting a chair with her non-retractable plastic wings. Extending her hand, she suggested with a playful grin, “How about a tour? See how we expand consciousness here, and then you can judge the risks and benefits.”
Lumi hesitated at first, but her curiosity quickly took over. “Alright,” she agreed, cautiously taking Vectra’s hand. “Let’s see what you do, and then we can discuss the safety.”
The two fairies strolled down a dimly lit corridor, the music and conversations fading behind them, replaced by the echo of the club owner's confident steps in her metal boots. Lumi couldn’t help but recall the wild rumours about robotic fairies disappearing without a trace in this club, but she quickly dismissed those baseless fears, focusing instead on the intriguing possibilities ahead.
“We’re here!” Vectra announced, halting before a door behind which a fairy could be heard muttering and occasionally squeaking. “Speaking of imagination…” she added with a mischievous smile, opening the door and stepping inside with Lumi.
The floor was littered with pens and sheets of paper—some whole, some crumpled, all scribbled with notes and sketches. Amid this cheerful chaos, on a slightly worn but seemingly warm carpet, sat a cybernetic fairy deeply immersed in her creative world. Her white and silver cyber-suit, adorned with petal-like designs, resembled a classic dress, though the floral patterns appeared as dark metal. The creative fairy’s tousled red hair complemented her healthy blush and cobalt blue eyes.
Villanella deftly switched between virtual buttons, visible only to her, and an old-fashioned mechanical keyboard. The keys clicked softly under her fingers, like raindrops on a roof. Her gaze shifted frequently from the virtual screens to the real ones, where black lines of quatrains and story paragraphs stood out against a light background. Occasionally, she issued commands to a smart digital assistant, which obediently opened dictionaries and sourced information from across the Elysian network, inspiring the creative fairy with 3D videos, photographs, and paintings—both real and generated.
Vectra broke the silence with a cheerful greeting. “How’s your depression, Villanella? Have your muses gobbled it up?” She nodded to her new companion and playfully teased, “Lumi here doubts the benefit of pleasure in creativity. Thinks maybe it’s better to work like before. Care to enlighten her?”
“Like before?!” the poet exclaimed, horrified. “No way! Just a month ago, I couldn’t squeeze out a single line. I felt terrible! I didn’t even want to live! My friends suggested becoming a robotic fairy and adjusting my consciousness. But how can one be creative…” She stopped mid-sentence. Looking at Vectra and Lumi, the author decided not to voice the common stereotype about robotic fairies being incapable of creativity. Villanella blushed and quietly added, “Without inspiration.” Lowering her gaze, she shyly returned to her work.
“There!” Vectra declared with a hint of pride, leaning towards Lumi. “She delights in every new line she crafts, but the real bliss hits when...”
“Yes! I’ve found it! Listen, everyone!”
Villanella’s voice rang out, reciting her latest quatrain with passion:
“Once barren sands, now veiled in white,
The desert cloaked by winter’s might.
Lost city stands, where cold winds sweep,
In snow’s embrace, the dunes now sleep.”
Finishing her verse, the cybernetic poet let out a gleeful squeal and collapsed backwards onto the carpet. Her wings twitched wildly, and her chest rose and fell rapidly, mirroring the quick movements of a frightened mouse. Lumi grew anxious—cybernetic fairies were not supposed to breathe. At least not this heavily. But then, just as suddenly, Villanella sat up cross-legged, adjusted her dress, and eagerly grabbed her well-worn keyboard.
“Today, I aim to complete my collection of winter poems. And tomorrow... No, better yet, today, I’ll start a crime novel! Assistant, tell me about ancient criminals! Yes, yes, good. Oh! That’s a fantastic idea! Explain ‘usury,’ define ‘axe,’ and clarify what an organic being might mean by ‘continually with child.’ Show me archival videos. If unavailable, generate them...”
Vectra seized Lumi’s hand again and hurried out, leaving the fervent fairy alone with her muses—or perhaps something more ominous. Closing the door behind them, the club owner flashed Lumi a knowing smile as if to say, “Well, what do you think of that?”
“Impressive!” the curious visitor admitted.
Vectra, leaning in with pride, replied, “The toughest challenge was getting the AI to judge the quality of her work. The prose was hard enough, but poetry? That’s an entirely different beast! Tell me, when is a near rhyme justified for the sake of meaning, and when is it just a blunder? How much do you dock from the reward function if the meter slips, but it intentionally conveys the lyrical ‘I’s sudden confusion? When does it become a masterful blend of form and content, and when is it just a rookie mistake?”
Lumi shrugged, her honesty disarming. “My heart is in physics and philosophy, not poetry.”
Vectra chuckled. “Hearts? You and I are robotic fairies, you know? We don’t have hearts!” she teased. “So, the AI compares her work with every poem it knows, taking into account readers’ and critics’ feedback. When Villanella creates something meaningful and reasonably beautiful, she feels waves of pure bliss.”
“Let me guess,” Lumi’s scepticism returned, “she spends all day here, isolated, not talking to anyone, and does nothing else? Classic signs of addiction.”
“Wrong again!” Vectra countered. “Our talented poet visits us occasionally. Otherwise, she roams all over Elysia, seeking inspiration and talking with readers and critics. But tell me, how often do you chat with your friends offline?”
Had Lumi been an organic fairy, she would have blushed. She hesitated but admitted that she often got so engrossed in her experiments that she forgot about everything else and rarely exchanged words, even with those she knew well. Vectra nodded in understanding.
“It’s just personality differences. Some are social butterflies, while others seek solitude. Thanks to me, our poet has found her wings again! Oh, I should try writing something myself. Let’s keep moving!”
As they approached another room, Vectra glanced sideways at Lumi with a mischievous smile.
“So, you love physics, huh?”
“Of course!” The eyes of the elegant robotic fairy sparkled with keen interest. “Just last month, I discovered—”
“Shush! When we go in, don’t interrupt. Don’t argue. Just observe. Got it?”
“Alright…” Lumi, slightly taken aback by Vectra’s casual tone, decided to comply.
In the small but cosy room, two organic fairies sat at a table, engaged in a lively discussion. The scratched surface of the touchscreen in front of them glowed with rows of black and blue equations, formulas, and tables.
“Hello, everyone! Lumi, meet Quantessa,” Vectra pointed to the freckled fairy in a green suit. “And Paulina,” she gestured to the second fairy, who wore a beige outfit and had a distinctive birthmark on her left cheek. Both fairies, with their similar chestnut hair buns, smiled and waved their wings in greeting before returning to their work.
“I’m telling you, dark luxons exist!” declared Quantessa. “Look at the peak in the X-ray range.”
“Did you check the noise level in the measurements?” Paulina doubted.
“Actually, no.” The freckled fairy looked embarrassed, while the fairy with the birthmark squealed with delight as if tickled.
“Wait a moment! Recalculating… No, it’s still above the statistical error!” Now, the one in green squealed with pleasure.
The club owner leaned in close and whispered to Lumi, “So, what’s your take?”
“I’ve heard of these hypothetical particles,” she replied thoughtfully, “but I’d need to analyse the data to be sure…”
Vectra rolled her eyes. “Lumi, your generalisation algorithm needs a bug fix! Watch closer!”
Paulina waved her hand, bringing up a new publication on the screen. “But if dark luxons truly cause this anomaly, wouldn’t they manifest globally under similar conditions?”
“Let’s see…” Quantessa made several quick gestures, shuffling the observation results on the display. “It looks like everything matches up. Check it out.”
“You’re right!” The fairy with the birthmark nodded, studying the data. “It seems you’re on the brink of a discovery!”
Overjoyed, the freckled fairy closed her eyes and fluttered her wings in excitement.
“Wait! If dark luxons behave according to your model, we’d see spacetime distortions! That’s impossible to overlook!” The fairy in beige smiled triumphantly. Her colleague’s smile faded, and after a rapid re-check, she conceded:
“Yes, I hadn’t considered that. We’ll have to start from scratch. Paulina, good job! You saved us a lot of time.”
Paulina let out a joyful squeal, her wings creating a gentle breeze. In their happiness, the two physics enthusiasts embraced. As they held each other, Vectra turned to Lumi, who was staring in utter bewilderment at the ecstatic scientists.
“Stuck in a loop? Come on, reboot and tell me what you think!”
But before Lumi could collect herself, the physicist fairies suddenly jumped up, their faces glowing with excitement, and rushed to the exit. As they passed Vectra, they thanked her warmly for a wonderful evening.
“Leaving so soon?” she asked with feigned disappointment.
“We need data from the planetary collider,” Paulina explained. “And this beast can’t be started remotely. Wow! It’s been ages since we worked so productively! Thanks again! See you!”
“Where are you two going with my neurostimulators?” the club owner smirked.
“Oh! Right! Sorry!” With guilty smiles, Quantessa and Paulina removed the diadems with blinking LEDs and handed them back to Vectra. Only then did Lumi notice the devices, previously hidden beneath their hairstyles. She had been too focused on the hypothetical particles to see them earlier.
“That’s better!” Vectra nodded. “Without my software, they wouldn’t even make decent accessories.”
“We’ll come back once we gather new data!”
As soon as the guests left the room, the hostess grinned at Lumi, waiting for a response. The elegant robotic fairy was still impressed but had at least grasped the concept.
“What we have here is a living analogy to generative adversarial networks in machine learning. Quantessa is the generator, proposing hypotheses, and Paulina is the discriminator, seeking errors and attempting to disprove the ideas. The generator gets rewarded if the hypothesis is correct and the discriminator finds no mistakes. The discriminator ‘rejoices’ when it successfully refutes false assumptions. Over time, Quantessa’s hypotheses will come closer to reality, while Paulina will learn to spot even the most subtle errors. However...” Lumi pondered, “couldn’t such stimulation harm them? Our neuroprocessors might overheat in such a case, and could something similar happen to organic fairies?”
With a wry smirk, the club owner quipped, “You’re quite the discriminator yourself. Do you know how hard it was to create an AI that would track all physics publications, study them, assess whether a new idea isn’t nonsense, and then stimulate the brain’s pleasure centres? Sure, a machine can easily verify formal logic and math, but this task is much more sophisticated. And no, the program doesn’t have true consciousness. I’m not breaking any laws. Look at them! They’re glowing with happiness, pushing science forward! Biological evolution couldn’t achieve this in a trillion years. Biochemistry has no clue if an idea is plausible, let alone reward a correctly identified error.”
“You’re wrong. There are plenty of organic fairies on Elysia who love science. But, of course, not to this extent. What about addiction and side effects?”
“Who’s buzzing now?” Vectra snorted. “Weren’t you the one who admitted to losing track of everything while sitting in an orbital lab for weeks?” And before the other fairy could protest, she continued quickly, “There was this recent incident—Quantessa missed a division by zero error at the start of her work and went far off track. When Paulina read through the mess, she shrieked with joy across the whole club! Saying…” she switched to a raspy voice, mimicking a dying fairy, “‘This work… isn’t even… wrong…’”
Vectra theatrically pretended to faint. Lumi couldn’t help but giggle.
“Well?” the amused robotic fairy quickly “came back to her senses” and asked, “How about some philosophy for dessert?”
“Can’t wait,” Lumi replied with a smile, and they continued their tour together.
The next room was a stark contrast to the previous ones—bare, metallic walls and enveloped in darkness. The only light came from the blinking indicators of a server in the corner. At the centre, a robotic fairy reclined comfortably in an armchair, her leg casually crossed over the other. Her titanium frame was accentuated with orange stripes and tiny glowing indicator lights. Her pixie-cut hair, short and slightly wavy, framed her face in sharp contrast to her pale, organic-looking skin. From her head, a web of wires connected her to the softly humming server hidden within the wall.
Vectra waved a hand and introduced the guests, “Ferricia, this is Lumi—our newcomer with boundless curiosity. While we wait for the program to load, maybe you could share your story?”
The tall, titanium fairy partially rose from her chair, greeting them with a slight bow as much as the wires allowed before settling back down. Her metal wings sparkled in the dim light.
“Of course!” she smiled, her green metallic eyes glinting in the semi-darkness. “Perhaps Lumi can help me make the right choice,” she said, her voice a rich contralto. Instantly, Lumi received an invitation on her internal interface, which she promptly accepted. Abruptly, the room blossomed with light, casting dynamic shadows from a crackling fireplace. The walls transformed, now adorned with elegant panels decorated with geometric ornaments and vivid paintings. At the same time, in each corner, waterfalls of multicoloured molten metal burbled and flowed, completing the transformation from a barren to a fascinating space.
“Virtual decorations?” Lumi mused, puzzled. Initially, she had assumed that Vectra preferred real furnishings for the club. The simulated, albeit stylish, embellishments seemed oddly out of place. Yet, prudently, the newcomer chose to keep her observations to herself, her attention now fully engaged by the narrative unfolding before her.
“For as long as I can remember,” Ferricia began, “I’ve been mesmerised by the sparks dancing above the furnaces, the rhythmic hum of conveyors, and the ballet of machines in the assembly lines. I wasn’t just pleased when loaded trolleys ascended to the surface—I was utterly enchanted, basking in indescribable euphoria. Helping fairies on the surface was and is the meaning of my life.” The titanium fairy pictured herself in the expansive chambers of underground high-tech factories. “But recently, one of my colleagues grew genuinely worried. She thought my passion was unhealthy. Sure, we robotic fairies are programmed to appreciate work—especially tasks our organic sisters can’t manage. We work with joy, but to love hard labour with all one’s heart?”
This time, the club owner held back her usual sharp remark. Ferricia continued her story.
“To truly revel in the heat and clamour? Other workers decided that my reward function was programmed incorrectly. I sought help. The psychiatrists shrugged and said the only solution was to directly modify the parameters at my consciousness’s core.”
“And why not do just that?” Lumi asked innocently. The titanium fairy responded with a sad smile.
“Because changing the foundation of a sentient being’s consciousness is allowed only under extraordinary circumstances. The access codes are tightly guarded. I approached the governmental AI of Solaris. The Guardian insisted my behaviour posed no threat to others or myself. The Liberator agreed that it was my right but warned that I would no longer be the same if I exercised it, thus violating my free will. That’s why the Arbitrator didn’t find it necessary to unlock the encryption keys.”
“So that’s why you’re here,” Lumi realised as the disheartened worker nodded in affirmation.
“I came to ponder and decide what I truly want. It’s unbearable knowing my deepest love is just a random glitch, not a genuine emotion born of consciousness. Vectra promised to help.”
“Exactly!” The audacious robotic fairy clapped her fists together. “We’ll hack Ferricia’s consciousness, reroute the data streams, and trick the blocked reward function without altering it permanently.” Seeing the worry on the newcomer’s face, she added with her usual smirk, “What’s troubling you, Lumi? Worried about safety or legality?”
“That’s not the main issue,” Lumi replied, her voice tinged with anxiety. “The real question is, who and how will decide what Ferricia will love, what thoughts or actions will bring her true happiness? We can only speak for ourselves about what delights us. The Liberator is right—if you prefer green now, but after a parameter change, you prefer blue, how do we determine which you genuinely like? Even if we reset the parameters so neither colour evokes feelings, it won’t help. The answer would be ‘neither.’ Memories will remain, but they’re useless if they no longer resonate. New-generation robotic fairies can eventually find new interests, but if Ferricia’s reward function is so misaligned, it could take a very long time. And the worst part is, at first, any task might be, if not torturous but, at the very least, very unpleasant.”
“Lumi is right,” the titanium fairy agreed, her voice heavy with sadness. “Even now, I keep thinking about the furnaces. Ah, my beloved furnaces! The tanks of hydrofluoric acid! The conveyors! The hydraulic presses! The stacks! Ah, my dear little stacks of freshly cast ingots—iron, aluminium, copper, my delightful treasures...”
Fortunately, the program loaded just then, and the server chimed, interrupting Ferricia’s passionate reverie.
“Perfect timing!” Vectra said, issuing a series of commands to the server. “Lumi may not be aware, but I know for sure: when a robotic fairy is created, the reward function weights are assigned randomly, but it’s our beloved governmental AI who determines the probabilities. It assesses all fairy activities and ranks them by usefulness, intellectuality, and so on. I don’t know if this know-it-all considers our opinions. It should, you know...” The club owner removed a panel from the server, shook out the dust, ensured the fans were spinning, and slid it back into place. “The bees have gotten lazy! There, all set! I’ve prepared guided dreams for Ferricia. Have a look.”
At that moment, Vectra, Ferricia, and Lumi watched as three-dimensional recordings began to flow past them. In one, the tireless worker revelled in a nocturnal flight; another depicted her in animated conversation with new friends. Scenes flickered by of Ferricia painting snowy landscapes with real oil paints; elsewhere, she was a proud operator on a space station.
The industrious fairy gazed at this kaleidoscope with empty eyes.
“I don’t know. None of this brings me any joy or sorrow,” she confessed.
Vectra minimised the visualisation, her voice encouraging. “Keep your chin up! There’s no need to rush. In your dreams, you’ll experience happiness from everything you just saw—one after another. But before the dream fades, you’ll evaluate your impressions. We’ll record and compare them. Who knows? Maybe you’ll find something that resonates. We aren’t supposed to set the coefficients randomly, are we?”
Ferricia thanked Vectra warmly but added in a sombre tone, “It will be hard to tear myself away from my beloved work to visit your club, but I’ll do my best.”
“How ironic,” Lumi mused. “The hardest labour is bliss for Ferricia, while an evening in a club where fairies experience various pleasures feels like a chore.”
Vectra chuckled and hovered her finger over the start button. “Ready to experience the first dream?”
The titanium fairy nodded, feeling a mix of anxiety and hope. With a click, Ferricia slowly closed her eyes and entered standby mode, freezing in place. In the ensuing silence, Lumi and Vectra left the room, leaving Ferricia alone to wander through the dreamscape in search of her happiness.
The warm light in the foyer diffused through the colourful fabric over the LED lamps and felt especially inviting after the gloom of the server room and the dim corridors. Vectra turned to Lumi with a playful grin.
“Well, do you still think we’re running a drug den?”
“It did seem that way from the outside. But now I see you’re genuinely helping fairies,” the platinum-blond visitor admitted. “Villanella writes poetry passionately, Quantessa and Paulina study physics with hunger, and Ferricia might find her true self. Yes, I still worry about safety, but I can see the tremendous benefits!”
As they strolled through the hall, Lumi couldn’t help but notice the winged guests enjoying themselves—chatting, sipping tea, and listening to the trio of fairies playing the piano, cello, and violin with fervour. A moment later, she turned to Vectra with a thoughtful expression and asked, “There’s one thing I can’t understand—why don’t you operate openly in Solaris and the other domes?”
Before the hostess could respond, a piercing scream broke the tranquillity. The nearest door to the reception desk flew open, and a tousled organic fairy, clad only in a thin bathrobe, burst out.
“A-a-ah! Help! I pulled Astra by her prippets, and they tore off! And then my gnoows fell out! Aa-a-ah!”
Lumi, ready to assist, sprang into action and was already downloading emergency medical manuals from the Elysian network. But Vectra gently, yet firmly, held her back by the shoulder. Issuing a command on her internal interface, she shushed the panicked fairy.
“Robo-surgeons are on their way. Stop screaming! You’ll scare the other clients.”
Just then, a mantis robot in a medical cap with a green cross scurried down the corridor, followed by two bees: one carrying a toolkit and the other—a roll of sticky duct tape. The mantis surgeon deftly scooped up the shrieking fairy with its pincers and, along with the bees, hustled her into a room. The door slammed shut behind them, and for a while, the room echoed with a cacophony of uncontrollable laughter, frantic wails, jubilant shouts, shrill squeals, the tearing of duct tape, and the buzz of power tools. Soon, everything went quiet, leaving behind an eerie silence.
Vectra nonchalantly handed Lumi a cup filled with a glowing violet-purple drink for robotic fairies.
“Thorium or tritium?” she asked, as casually as one might offer jam or honey with tea.
“A spoonful of tritium, please,” Lumi responded out of habit, but then she snapped back to reality and asked, bewildered, “Wait! What just happened?”
Generously spooning the glowing green granules into the fizzing drink, Vectra replied with a hint of envy, “Wow! You have a tritium reactor! Not bad! Oh, you mean the commotion?” She gestured back toward the disturbance. “That’s exactly why we operate in secrecy.”
Curiosity bubbling over, Lumi asked, “What are prippets and gnoows?”
“Pleasure organs grown for organic fairies. Of course, they’re detachable,” Vectra explained, initially ignoring Lumi’s horrified expression, then looking at her with a mischievous grin, “Let me explain in detail. Prippets look like—”
“No, thank you!” Lumi interrupted. “I’m more into physics, not biology.”
Both fairies burst into laughter. Then, under the soothing music, they recharged slowly, sipping their energy tea and trying not to dwell on the bizarre turn of events.
Soon, Lumi drifted back into her thoughts and asked the question nagging her all along, “Why is your club hidden away in what feels like the sewers? Why hide in the technical sector? Why not set up on Argon Boulevard or the Sky Avenues under the dome’s highest point? As I see it, safety issues shouldn’t be too hard to address, should they?”
Vectra chuckled and beckoned Lumi to join her internal screen. “Let me show you. We’ll send the application right away.”
Lumi nodded and accepted the invitation, synchronising her virtual space with the daring fairy’s. What she saw was astonishing! An outdated interface, possibly from an earlier generation, with a disappointingly low resolution and a nearly barren quick-launch panel. Typically, robotic fairies struggled to fit all their icons. It seemed Vectra was conserving memory.
A whole ten seconds passed before a deep voice resonated, “Arbitrator online!” The screen displayed a round silver emblem with scales pulsing in time with the words.
“Hi there, Arbitrator!” Vectra greeted with a mocking tone. “Listen, I want to relocate and open the club somewhere near Argon Boulevard, close to the cybermarket. Or even better! On the upper tiers of the Hanging Gardens, right under the dome’s peak. You see, my organic fairies catch colds, the robotic ones rust and the cybernetic fairies suffer from both!”
“The Guardian has objections,” responded the Arbitrator.
Suddenly, a second emblem appeared—a gleaming blue shield.
“As a caring artificial intelligence,” began the introduction that fairies loathed, as it typically heralded the banning of something enjoyable, citing trivialities like mortal danger. “I must highlight the potentially high health and well-being risks associated with addiction due to unauthorised interventions in the reward function of organic, cybernetic, and robotic fairies.”
Vectra cut off the droning Guardian with mock panic, “Help! Dictatorship on Elysia! No one protects my freedom of thought and creativity!”
“Liberator online!” announced the third emblem, glowing a radiant yellow with an image of a bird soaring upward. “My duty is to protect the freedom of all sentient beings. Unfortunately, by altering the reward function, we essentially create a new personality. Thus, it is impossible to simultaneously protect the interests of both the original and the resulting personality. This clashes with my directives. For this reason, I cannot advocate for the club’s opening in densely populated areas. However! Since visitors come to your club voluntarily, their liberty is technically unbreached. Vectra, your current club faces no imminent threats, and I vow to continue defending your freedom of thought and creativity, but this is all I can do for you at this time.”
“Unfortunately, the application is rejected,” concluded the Arbitrator. “Given the sanctions imposed on Vectra...”
The rebellious fairy hesitated, fumbling slightly before managing to disconnect the call.
“See? Digital bureaucracy,” Vectra smirked with feigned nonchalance.
“I see something deeper,” Lumi responded gravely.
“What are you talking about?” Vectra asked, pretending not to understand, but her orange eyes, now moving with an unnatural calm due to a direct command, gave her away.
Lumi pressed on, “Since we’re still connected, why don’t we order something stylish for the club?”
Vectra grumbled indistinctly, “Everything’s fine as it is. I like retro.”
“Retro doesn’t mean falling apart,” Lumi countered sternly. “Villanella would be far more comfortable on a bed than on a carpet. Why should Quantessa and Paulina strain their eyes on an outdated, scratched touchscreen when organic fairies have long switched to retinal projectors? And Ferricia?”
“She enjoys virtual decorations,” Vectra interjected. “You’re not an organic fairy and should appreciate their charm!”
Lumi shook her head. “It’s not about the decorations. It’s about that ancient server that took forever to load Ferricia’s dreams. Come on, open the catalogue, and let’s find you a new desk.”
“What’s wrong with this one? It’s perfectly fine!” Vectra felt cornered.
“Perfectly fine?” Lumi pointed to a collapsed drawer. “And what about you? You’ve been eyeing my high-tech body all evening. Don’t deny it. I know that look. Organic fairies give each other that look when someone is wearing a fancy dress.”
Vectra snapped back, her frustration boiling over, “I don’t care about your chassis! I like how I look!”
Lumi calmly but firmly delivered her final point, “Look at yourself: an ageing reactor, an obsolete virtual interface. You’re using servomotors instead of artificial muscles, constantly repairing them. You polish yourself to hide the corrosion, and what fairy would want non-retractable plastic wings?”
“Enough!” Vectra exploded. “What? What are you trying to say, you shiny piece of high-tech?”
“What I’m saying,” Lumi continued, undeterred, “is that you’re strapped for resources. And that’s unheard of in our society, especially in the capital. Solaris’s fusion reactors run at a quarter of their capacity. Every fairy, regardless of occupation, receives abundant resources for living and creativity. Let’s look into any online store and compare prices.”
Trapped with no way out, Vectra reluctantly opened the recent pages she often browsed. The air filled with shimmering models of robotic fairy exteriors. Lumi pointed to one of them.
“That can’t possibly cost half a million. Seven thousand energos at most. This inflated price is just for you. Such severe sanctions aren’t imposed for a few pranks, are they?”
Vectra realised she had no escape. She nodded guiltily and began to speak in a subdued voice.
“Years ago, I worked at a factory that produced robotic fairies like you and me. Do you think Ferricia’s case is unique on this planet?” She gave a bitter smile. “These errors were rampant before the algorithms were refined. But our dear governmental pseudo-AI didn’t care! As long as a fairy wasn’t suffering, the big boss saw no need to change anything, even if a flawed reward function made her enjoy some weird stuff.”
Her gaze turned stinging.
“I proposed numerous amendments to the governmental AI’s code. Believe it or not, they accepted them! The frequency of errors dropped. More robotic fairies were allowed to correct their distorted reward functions. Enjoying toil was nothing compared to those who, in their pleasure, disassembled themselves and couldn’t stop until permanent shutdown.”
Lumi shuddered, vividly imagining the scene.
“That’s horrifying,” she whispered.
Vectra smirked, clearly pleased.
“Looks like your neuroprocessors aren’t just clogged with glitter. And then one day,” she continued more seriously, “after learning of yet another case, I decided I’d had enough. I couldn’t wait any longer! I had to correct the algorithm that set the reward functions myself. So, I lured Cyclia, a colleague from the factory, into the lab. She knew the codes needed to access the factory computers. I tricked her into a sleep state—just like Ferricia now—and made it so she’d find nothing more delightful than giving those codes to me. But when I tried to access the factory server, the security system sniffed out something suspicious, and I was caught.”
“So that’s how you know so much about consciousness programming,” Lumi realised, the puzzle pieces finally fitting together.
Vectra nodded, her voice filled with sincerity. “I only wanted our sisters to be happy. I should have exercised more patience. What I did to Cyclia was wrong.”
Keeping the connection open with Lumi, the club owner’s eyes hungrily followed the models spinning slowly in the air, their delicate, shimmering wings reminiscent of Lumi’s. According to the description, they were crafted from graphene fabric interwoven with polymers at the atomic level. For now, such beauty was still a distant dream. But suddenly, the price flickered, dropping from half a million to three hundred thousand. Vectra doubted her graphics card, suspecting a glitch in her system.
“Did you see that?” she asked Lumi, pointing to the price. The silver-eyed guest looked equally surprised.
“Yes, the number just changed.”
Vectra smirked crookedly, “Perhaps they think I’ve earned a discount?”
“I don’t think so,” Lumi speculated. “Arbitrator has likely just lifted some of your sanctions.”
Joy ignited in the rebellious fairy’s orange eyes, and she playfully addressed the absent Arbitrator, “Oh, you rascal! Watching my every move!”
“He’s not watching,” Lumi explained with a light smile, “just impartially assessing the likelihood that you’ll pull another stunt. And when…”
“Let’s celebrate!” Vectra exclaimed, reaching for the cups. “More purple tea?”
“No, thank you,” Lumi politely declined.
“It’s on the house!” Vectra insisted.
Lumi looked puzzled, and the cheerful fairy explained, “Ah, my club is a bit old-fashioned—back when everyone paid their way, even for small pleasures like these. That includes you.”
Lumi was bewildered, her confusion evident. Vectra burst into laughter at her expression.
“I’m just teasing! You haven’t ordered anything yet. But seriously, it’s the perfect time to indulge. Why not try something?”
“You know I didn’t come here for fun,” Lumi replied gently.
“Oh, come on!” Vectra playfully insisted. “If you’re shy, don’t tell me—just pick something from the digital catalogue and enjoy your happy little evening!”
The platinum-blond guest let out a chuckle, her mood lifted. Then, the mischief-maker completely surprised her.
“I know! We have bionic adapters for prippets and gnoows!”
Lumi burst out laughing.
“Absolutely, I’m serious! What? Why should robotic fairies have less fun? Let’s go wild with prippeting and gnoowing all night long!”
Their warm, quiet laughter mingled with the carefree noise of the club, dispelling the earlier tension. But the lighthearted moment passed quickly, and Vectra sensed that her unusual guest was preparing to leave—something she had learned to recognise from years of experience.
“So, what about you, Lumi? What truly brings you joy in life?” Vectra asked sincerely, then added with a playful smirk, “No fairy has ever left my club without a bit of fun. Will you be the first?”
The silver eyes of the graceful robotic fairy reflected deep thought. “Not at all. Today has brought me plenty of joy. My greatest delight comes from contemplating profound questions and seeking answers to eternal mysteries. It’s not often I get the chance to ponder the secrets of consciousness. And it’s all thanks to you!”
“Whatever you say,” Vectra shrugged, then with a sly grin added, “But you’ll come back, won’t you? Who knows,” she winked, “maybe I do disassemble robotic fairies for parts after all, and you just didn’t notice?”
With a fleeting smile, Lumi cast another glance around the large hall and the foyer. Her eyes caught a poster of a cartoon bee clutching a stack of silver coins adorned with stylised lightning bolts, thanking visitors for their generous donations. Following Lumi’s gaze, the club owner said, somewhat sheepishly, “You don’t have to, but... a bit of support wouldn’t hurt.”
“We can do something even better!” the platinum-blond beauty promised. “Let’s visit the cyber salon together, and I’ll buy you a new robotic body.”
Vectra’s eyes, glowing with delight, suddenly widened. Overwhelmed with emotions, she lunged forward, embracing Lumi tightly as if reconnecting with a dear friend after a long absence.
“Lumi! Lumi, you’re a miracle! You have no idea how happy I am! How can I ever thank you?”
The guest returned the embrace, her new friend’s awkward wings slightly in the way, and whispered warmly, “You strive to make fairies happy, so you deserve a bit of happiness yourself.”
Vectra released Lumi and eagerly asked, “When are we going? When? Let’s go now!”
“Can you hold on until tomorrow evening?” Lumi asked with a smile.
“Oh, I’ll try! Please, come back! I’ll be waiting!”
“Then, till tomorrow,” Lumi bid farewell as she stepped into what could loosely be called a street—a dim alley lined with transformer housings, lit solely by a neon glow. Behind the elegant robotic fairy, her airy, translucent white wings unfurled, and she gently lifted off into the air.
Lumi rose higher and higher, navigating through the swarms of automatic bees, their signal lights twinkling in the dark. The light reflecting off her white suit, adorned with blue and turquoise ornaments, mingled with the glow from the mechanical labourers. Gradually, the roar of the heavy machinery faded, revealing the breathtaking panorama of her beloved city beneath the crystal-clear dome, bathed in the glow of the starry night sky.
The augmented reality function subtly marked the most energy-efficient route home, tracing a semi-transparent blue line far into the distance. As Lumi glided over the ever-bustling Argon Boulevard with its cybermarkets, her thoughts wandered back to Vectra’s club, now seen in a different light—no longer a den of mindless hedonists. The guiding blue line subtly narrowed, suggesting an air corridor above the vibrant city district—a playground where fairies freely sought out their nocturnal recreations. Suddenly, the autopilot took over, ensuring Lumi gracefully avoided a group of medical drones. The scene with the pleasure-seeking fairies at Vectra’s club came vividly to mind. Lumi’s earlier concerns didn’t seem so unfounded after all. Oh, those thrill-seeking prippeters and gnoowers! She chuckled to herself.
Soon, Aurora Avenue came into view—a bridge woven from the finest golden fibres, with theatre facades shimmering in vibrant colours. Like a spell, the tiny muse in her mind conjured an image of Villanella, the cybernetic poet who had reclaimed the joy of life through her mastery of creative delight.
Ahead, above the spires of spiral towers, the text “Nexus Scientia” briefly flashed. Perhaps one day, Quantessa and Paulina, their love for physics fueled by Vectra’s neurostimulators, would work at this renowned scientific centre. Would their passion spark a discovery that reshapes the world?
A cyan indicator blinked in the corner of Lumi’s eye, inviting her to fly faster over the Emerald Cascades. As Lumi glanced at the transparent attitude and airspeed indicators, she admired the mechanical fireflies twinkling in the treetops like tiny sparks. They were exactly like the ones Ferricia adored. The poor worker, whose toil at the underground factory had become her only solace, now finds evenings at the pleasure club a tedious routine. Lumi sincerely hoped Vectra could help the titanium fairy find true happiness.
Flying over the wide-open space, Lumi gazed up at the starry sky, lost in her thoughts. What truly was pleasure? A cage for the mind? A ruthless tyrant born of biological evolution? Or perhaps, a friend and ally aiding the intellect in reaching new heights?
Her wings slowed their rhythm as she neared the Azure Heights. Lumi cleared her screen of hints to take in the full view of her home district—a forest of exquisitely crafted, towering white trees as tall as sequoias, with aquamarine, spiralling branches cradling clusters of round, fruit-like homes. The leaves, blue like sapphires turned sunlight into electricity by day, rustled softly in the gentle breeze.
Lost in endless musings, the robotic fairy gently touched down on a platform that extended with a quiet mechanical whirr. Her little house, shaped like a melon and adorned with organic curving ornaments and round windows, warmly welcomed her by opening an oval door and turning on a warm light. Nearby, her equally graceful robotic neighbours were returning to their fruit-like dwellings, greeting each other with kind words or a wave.
Settling down for the night, Lumi looked out from her window at the sky, a canvas scattered with twinkling stars. The automatic service station beeped, signalling the transition to standby mode. With her silver eyes slowly closing, Lumi allowed herself to drift into dreams, imagining the day she might unlock the mysteries of the mind, which, in her imagination, spanned as vast as the cosmos itself.
fairiesisland.com
1 June 2024
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