Tl;dr: Machinarians have advanced human enhancement technology, but it is incredibly expensive to actually apply. Those who have some certain set of really impressive enhancements are called Adepti (and there might be more to it than just that name). The rest aspire to greatness and general goodness in accordance with their religion, and in keeping with the general optimism Erik seemed to want to put into this setting, that aspiration actually works.The Adeptus is a terrifying thing. Yet, it's not his appearance that is terrifying.
More scientific exhibit than either machine or man, his apparel and skin is designed to allow his inner functions to be exposed to study and wonderment. The inside of an Adeptus's chest, seen through a thin yet strong layer of transparent plastic, is a technofetishistic marvel of combined life and else-life: A chamber of pulsating and peristalsing organs, circuit boards and small servomotors, all connected with small wires and tubes, and embedded in a three-dimensional mesh of wirework that holds everything in its designed place. Just when you think you're starting to grasp the meaning of some of the parts, he peels back more skin: His right arm is all machine, while his left arm has a well-shielded bundle of blood tubes and nerve wires leading down to the wrist, and into a hand made of flesh just like yours or mine. Finally, he draws back the skin on his right temple, right next to the eye that you now realise is just an imitation of humanity: Only a few parts of his original brain, mostly in the temporal and frontal lobes remain. The rest of his head, you see through the window, is a mess - no, not a mess, there clearly is a designed pattern to it - an arrangement of circuits and chips and cooling systems that speaks of a great deal of complexity in a small space.
And then the solemn moment of revelation is over. He points to one of the dark beating sacs inside his chest. "So, here's my heart for instance... oh no!" The sac suddenly goes still, and he shakes his head and gurgles. This ends soon enough as he's enjoying his audience's horrified looks too much to hold back the laughter. It takes several more moments before he can speak again through the sputtering and giggling: "Sorry... sorry. I just love doing that to first-timers. I've got two more hearts to back the little guy up. PRH, I could go for a couple of minutes without any of them running. Now, any of you kids wanna race me to that shop over there? Winner gets an ice-cream!"
His name is Joseph Ducard (call him Joe), he is a creature far detached from and superior to humanity, and he loves terrible jokes.
The Adeptus is a terrifying thing. Yet, it's not the paradox of his humanity that is terrifying.
It has been said that the most difficult identity to assume is that of a common human being. A thoroughly sane person, admitted into a mental institute, can't say or do anything that would convince psychologists of his state of mind: Maybe he is hiding strange and destructive urges under a veneer of normality. Another person, having been called just a particularly clever machine once, can never prove his humanity, because apparently he could have any number of human-like behaviours simply programmed into him. The Adeptus is good at solving difficult problems. He follows a recitation of the Divine Mandates of the Machine God up with an irreverent joke. When someone asks him a particularly interesting question, he goes to give them a friendly slap on the back and leads them to the front of the small crowd, so they can better see him demonstrate the answer. Any time someone particularly important-looking walks by, he goes to vigorously shake their hand and ask if they have a moment to be introduced to something unusually interesting. He acts not just human, but more than human - not just living, but lively, more so than the most starstruck lover, or the most spirited enterpreneur.
The day passes quickly in the Maltenstein park as he tirelessly performs to a constantly changing audience. Every half an hour he shows off his internal workings and follows it up with some superhuman feat: Here he runs faster than a thrown stone, there he lifts up a grown man in both hands. Yet in spirit, he seems less like someone who gave up a part of himself, and more someone who made good choices and is proud of them. He eats up the attention like a bodybuilder showing off his muscles, or a circus entertainer who has spent many months training just for the sake of showmanship.
The Adeptus is a terrifying thing. Yet, it's not his abilities that are terrifying.
Only after many hours, as the day has turned into a chilly night and the families with children have retired home, does an honest solemnity creep into the Adeptus's voice. All that's left in his audience is neophiles and intellectuals, so he takes on a tone more akin to a lecture, taking questions and answering them with precision:
"I was born in Deep Trouble, Straylight. 4001 ASC."
"Now we're talking business! Yes, take this eye for instance", he said as he plucked the eye in question out of its socket, "Sees near infrared and pretty far into x-ray too. It's got flash protection, too, and it could take a few heavy hammer whacks before giving out. Oh, and I can still see through it. We've got shops in Citadel that can design one for you for thirty thousand or so..."
"In one word? Expensive. See, the Straylightians are just incredibly great at coming up with a great idea and building a society around it, and then never bringing any good stuff out of that society to the rest of the world. They say that if you want to enjoy the fruits of a sanct's work, you've got to move there. Well, screw that, that was what I decided. I made a business out of some small conveniences already developed in my home sanct decades ago and became quite wealthy as a result. Not everyone can be an Adeptus, and nobody is going to go through the cybernetic engineering effort to give you the whole set of enhancements if you can't pay for them yourself. But there's more to Machinaria than cybernetics. The flesh is just as much a machine as a thing of chrome and plastic, and with proper technique, it too can excel and do great things."
"Oh, it's more than that. A philosophy, a society, a way of life. Imagine life were not just about the daily grind of work, or the meaningless cycle of generations having children, and aging, and dying. Imagine there were a goal, something to aspire toward, both as an individual and a society - and there there were always a path toward that goal that you could see. Imagine a society of fierce, passionate people, all aspiring for what is good - beauty, art, music, life, health, love. We feel no unease about casting off the traditional form of human society, and even of the human body for some. There are more profound goals, deeper truths to be realised."
"No, most Machinarians have far simpler enhancements. Many have none."
"Because life actually, truly is better there. I could arrange a trip to Citadel so you can find out..."
And so, the questioning went on late into the night.
The Adeptus is a terrifying thing. Not because of his appearance, or his capabilities, or because he seems to be more human than human. He is terrifying, because he can convince you to aspire to be like him...
How's that sound, Erik?
