Karn - Makeup

As the probe and the students filed out of the laboratory, Barrin drew Urza to a wall of sketches. There, in diagrams of lead and ink, the silver man was detailed, inside and out.

“Well, you were right,” Baffin said quietly. “Xantcha’s heart was the key. Her affective and intellectual cortexes must be intact, as you had thought. We can be thankful that none of her memories remain, or her personality—apparently. Still, I have to wonder about the wisdom of placing what amounts to a Phyrexian matrix into the head of your most powerful and advanced creation. I could have achieved the same effect with an animation spell—”

The master waved off the comment. “I wanted to achieve sentience through purely mechanical means. Besides, there is nothing Phyrexian about the heart crystal anymore. There is not even anything of Xantcha left in it—just enough of a matrix to allow logical, emotional, and social learning.”

Barrin winced slightly at the man’s choice of words. “Yes, well, that’s the other matter. What we’ve got here is no longer just a machine. You know it, and I know it. So does the probe. You gave him emotions. You need to acknowledge those emotions. You need to respect those emotions.” Only a blank stare answered him. “Don’t you see? This is not just a probe anymore. He is a man—no, more than that—he is a child. He’ll need to be guided, nurtured—”

***

Time Streams, Chapter 1