As the rain drenched the glass of the two cybernetics' eyes, they saw toxic rainwater spurting from the mud-filled earth with every step, much like the tears that burst from the eye sockets of suffering colonial people at the slightest hint of kindness. These lands were so soulless that they crumbled into dust with every stride. Stepping on this lifeless soil was like stepping on a hollow bale of straw; it had been rendered soulless because the souls of countless people had been sucked away by the machines in the factories.
This was the nature of colonization… With a small concession, you would first restrict their words. Then you would give away a little land, and then your own water and your soul. But the point wasn't the giving. What was it, then?
"Once…" Hikmar said as they made their way toward the trench-filled terrain. "…I gave a charm I loved dearly to a priest friend of mine." If he didn't lean on the staff in his hand, walking would have been nearly impossible for him—especially with the weight of his recent conversation with the creature named Volem only just beginning to lift.
"Is this a deep confession or a life lesson, dear Hikmar?"
"Neither…" Hikmar said. "…if it were a confession, it should have brought peace to my heart."
"Then why isn't it a life lesson?"
"Because those who would take this lesson have long since perished. But I… still, as if to commemorate them, would like to tell you." Hikmar smiled and continued his narration. "This charm I gave to my friend was one that could be used in many sacred rituals. You know, we priests of Cyoh Katum worship the truest and most supreme thing. We believe in evidence that can be touched. Unlike the religions of the old age, there is no covenant between us and God… God does not need us to exist. We need God. That is what Cyoh Katum is."
He caught a mutant butterfly flying toward his hand in his palm. "Creation is an illusion," he said, and crushed the butterfly in his hand. "But to generate…" he said, and applied electricity to the butterfly's corpse.
The butterfly, with an electric current coursing through its body, quivered as the electricity passed through its nerves, as if resurrected, and straightened up slightly. However, as the current flowed out of its body, it fell back into his palm, dead once more. This was an illusion—the illusion created by the particle of life resulting from electricity stimulating the nerves. "…now, being able to generate something—that is real. That is why we worship supreme engineering. We call supreme mathematics and supreme physics the archangels and bow before them with respect. Machines are our limbs, and our charms are the bond between us and our machines. Cyoh Katum means the Voice of the Machines. And my charm possessed the most beautiful of those voices."
"My charm, no matter which machine it was attached to, would seep into the circuits of that machine with a very fine resonance and convey malfunctions through a beautiful poem. Those who had been complaining about the machine's malfunction until that moment would find peace as the charm voiced the error with a divine melody. But what was so important to me was not very important to my priest friend…"
"How so?" Azrak asked.
"Electricity is a necessity, isn't it? It is very important."
"Definitely…"
"But for you, the importance of electricity is Jul's life. For me, the importance of electricity is merely a blessing that saves me from the trouble of producing energy using my metabolism. While that charm was the most beautiful of the voices of Cyoh Katum for me, it was just a nice accessory for my friend. While I wanted to share the voice of the charm, he just wanted to know that the voice was hanging around his neck and didn't want to share it with anyone. Two people can think differently even about a charm… Two people can think differently even about electricity. So, I must ask you this, dear Azrak…"
"I am listening, Wise Hikmar."
"When meanings are so different for people, would you entrust your life to someone else?"
"After those words of yours, definitely no, dear Hikmar."
"And why is that?"
"The person I entrust it to might not give my life the same value I do."
"But life is valuable for everyone, isn't it? Wouldn't it be enough for them to empathize? After all, they have a life too."
Azrak suddenly stopped walking in the muddy ground. "You are right, Hikmar," he said. Hikmar also paused when he noticed Azrak had stopped. "There must be empathy… If a person has empathy, everything is solved."
"That is where you are wrong, dear Azrak," Hikmar said and smiled. "Empathy is actually the cause of all pain. Take machines, for example… Machines do not empathize with other machines; they simply work, and the only things that concern them are the theories of physics and mathematics. But empathy misleads people and blunts logic. What happens if the sanctity of a human life is accepted as certain and unquestionable as a law of physics? Then you can entrust your life to anyone. But empathy… that is what misleads everything."
"What if the person you surrender your life to empathizes with you and this man is someone who does not value life… What if he thinks that you wouldn't value life either? What if the man empathizes with you and thinks that someone in your place would want the trust to be betrayed…"
"The examples you mention are quite exaggerated…"
"Just like empathy itself…" Then he pointed with his hand to the terrain filled with dead soil where nothing could grow. "Empathy was what turned this place into this. The people of this planet thought their leaders could never be that cruel. It was empathy that made them think that way when they voted. Their own sense of conscience misled them."
"While giving away their lands, they thought no human would want to harm the earth this much. This planet's lands used to be some of the most fertile; now they consist of nothing but desert and swamp… No one expected this lack of conscience. It was empathy that misled them again."
"Their water became polluted, their air became unbreathable. Everything they experienced was inhuman, and their consciences wouldn't allow them to do all this to others. Yet their logic should have known that such a possibility existed. It was empathy that dragged them into this wretched life."
As Azrak continued walking over the marsh, he turned to Hikmar and asked: "So what happened to your charm? The one you gave to your friend…"
"I didn't want him to have the charm, so I asked for it back. However, that friend of mine thought differently about why I wanted it back. According to him, I wanted the charm back because it looked better on him. He thought I was jealous of him…"
"He empathized with you like that, did he? Well, were you able to get it back?"
"Definitely…" Hikmar said and smiled. "I told him I wanted to talk and called him to the factory. I crushed his head by squeezing it between two machines and removed the necklace very easily from his decapitated neck. What misled him here was also empathy. Because he himself was a coward who dared nothing."