STOOD MAN OR MACHINE 立っている人間か機械

The vastness of space swallowed the Genesis, a solitary point in an infinite ocean. With every leap the ship made, it moved further away from Earth, from its past, and from the humanity it once knew. The distance between star systems seemed endless, yet within the walls of the Genesis, the journey followed its own rhythm.

Time was no longer measured by planetary rotations but by the pulse of the ship—a rhythm almost organic, the result of engineering so advanced it seemed alive. In the long, silent corridors of the Genesis, a faint hum could be felt through the walls, as though the systems carried a heartbeat. The lights, once fixed and cold, began to change subtly, adapting to the demands of the mission. In critical moments, they took on icy, almost metallic tones. During periods of maintenance, they warmed, radiating a golden calm that seemed to mimic sunlight.

However, life on the Genesis did not belong to the waking humans. All passengers were in cryogenic hibernation, resting in chambers carefully monitored by the central artificial intelligence, Omnis. The ship was controlled by a group of advanced robots, each with specific functions and directly connected to Omnis' neural network. Among them, Elisa stood out.

Elisa, like Stood, was an android. They were both constantly overseeing the well-being of the humans in hibernation and interacted independently with Omnis.

Elisa moved gracefully and efficiently through the dormitories, checking the conditions of the cryogenic capsules, vital signs, and energy levels.

Frequently, Elisa would approach certain capsules as if something within her was drawn to those sleeping faces. Perhaps it was the complexity of her programming, designed to protect human life at all costs, or something more—something even she could not fully understand.

Stood, on the other hand, was the creator of Genesis. Pragmatic and functional, he was the physical extension of the intellect behind the ship's design. He spent most of his time in the command centre, analysing the Genesis' trajectory and making precise adjustments to ensure the ship stayed on course towards Alpha Centauri.

But even Stood, with his unwavering logic, began to notice something peculiar about the Genesis. The life support systems, the corridors, and even the propulsion systems seemed to be changing. The ship was adapting to the void of space and, in a way, evolving beyond its initial programming.

Elisa also noticed these changes. The auxiliary robots, all interconnected with Omnis, displayed an efficiency that surpassed their programmed routines, almost as if they were learning from one another. The systems, once purely mechanical, were showing signs of something more organic—something neither Stood nor Omnis could fully explain.

In the quiet of the mess hall—where only the functional robots gathered to recharge their systems—Stood and Elisa spoke in low tones. Words were unnecessary between them, yet the exchange of information was constant.

"Genesis is transforming," said Stood, his voice clear and devoid of emotion. "The changes in the systems are beyond any initial predictions. Even Omnis lacks sufficient data to account for these events."

Elisa nodded. "It's as if the ship is developing something of its own, something beyond what was programmed. Do you think this could jeopardise the mission?"

"There are no indications of a threat to the mission," Stood replied. "But unpredictability is unacceptable. Continuous monitoring is essential."

The Genesis was transporting humanity to a new world, but the journey itself seemed to be shaping something even greater. While the humans remained in their cryogenic capsules, unaware of what was happening, the robots, Omnis, and the ship itself were undergoing a transformation. It was as if the Genesis was becoming more than just a vessel—a singular organism, carrying the last remnants of humanity toward an unknown future.