By Eva
"I need better water to make the test,' Kile said to herself. She moved back from looking through the telescope.
Rubbing her closed eyes, tired from working all day in a small, hot cafe in the down town part of the trading market. Kile stayed up all night working on water tests.
As she moved back to look at the water sample again, there was a knock on the door, startling Kile.
“Just a moment!" she yelled at the door, quickly moving her test tubes and other work pieces to under her old, broken down bed.
The knock started to get louder. Kile moved her blackest to cover her things. "I said I am coming to the door!" she yelled, pulling open her room door.
"I know what you said," the man started in an annoyed tone. Standing outside of her apartment. Kile held her small hand over her face, blocking the bright street light from hurting her eyes.
The man in front of her was not looking madder by the moment. Kile smiled meekly," Alexius hell there." she said before starting to close the door into his face - but he locked the old wooden door with his boot.
“Not so fast, Kile." Alexius said pushing his way into her home. As he came closer to her, she backed up. Kile could not see his green eyes under his black colored hair. Sometimes he would dye some strips of blue into the black. He was taller than Kile, and had a light skin tone. Like most people here in the trading market, Alexius was along. No family - only Kile.
"Kile you're late for work." His words made her come back to the room they were standing inn. Only when she looked at his face did she see that his pale cheeks had turned a light shade of pink, “And you’re not even dressed,"
She looked down at herself," Crap." she turned to her bed and started to look for her pants and other clothing. Kile had forgotten about her water test tubes and other work pieces. She pulled on a shirt and pulled her long purple colored hair out from under the fabric and saw Alexius pick something up.
"Alexius don’t' touch that!" she yelled at him.
He only looked up at her, his face full of disappointment. Kile tried to grab the test tube from him, but only felt her arm grabbed by his warm hand pulling her into the wall.
"You said you would end this!" Alexius yelled in her face, holding out the water.
Kile looked away, not wanting to look at his eyes any more. Disappointment was the one thing Kile hated the most. The thought of one of her only friends yelling at her and leaving was horrific.
"But I'm so close, Alexius, please trust me on this." she cried out to him. She moved her body to face his. Kile looked up into his eyes, " Alexius you know that I'm careful with my work," and she looked down at the water he was holding.
Alexius started to give her the test tube, but he moved back. Take the water with him.
“Get dressed and ready for work," were the last words he told her before leaving her along in the room.
After getting dressed and leaving her home. She walked out into the busy trading roads; she was stopped by another human bumping into her.
"Get into your place, girl" the old mad said.
"Stay out of my way, old man!" she snapped back, puffing out her chest to look bigger then what she really was'
Bright green lights came up behind both of them. Kile sighed and stepped back to allow a bird-faced mad to approach her. "Do you know what this is?" he asked. He lowered his head, making the middle of the bird man’s neck look broken. When he spoke the ’s’ sounded as if he were trying to eat a worm.
"I was on my way to work, sir." Kile said, before looking up at the sky. She remembered that the name was a known Isis. A race of alien that lived on Jupiter. Kile remembered the first time she meet an Isis. I was right after Earth was destroyed.
The Isis name moved away from Kile and went to the old mane. He asked about what the yelling was about. Kile looked at them, and then ran off to the outer side of the living area.
Taking a deep breath Kile looked up and sighed, seeing the newly glassed dome over her head. Different colored gases turned over her head. She thought about how Earth's water was taken away and now it forced her to live on Jupiter.
After Earth's people found outer life forms on different planets, moving from planet to planet was an everyday occurs. Then something attacked the water based planets. Such as Pluto and Neptune - and finally the bacteria eating away the water came to Earth. Many people and other living things from those planets died.
The alien race from Pluto called the Aino were all gone. No one had seen or heard from them. Neptune’s people, the Tozi, a fish like alien were able to find out about the bacteria in advance and a few made their way to live on Jupiter. By the time Tozi's made home on Jupiter, they didn't warn earth about the bacteria. Kile remembers when the bacteria came to Earth. She was helping her father at the lake.
By the time the Tozi's had made Jupiter their home, they didn't worn Earth about the bacteria. Kile remembers when the bacteria came to Earth. She was helping her father at the lake. Kile's father had told her the water had gone down, then the last time they had visit. Her father told Kile to stay back, when he moved to the water as he used a test tube to collect it, a few water drops fell onto his hand, within a few seconds Kile's father hand dried up - and quickly followed his body.
Kile was brought back into reality as she ran into some one. She shook her head, before looking up to see Alexius. He had a worried look on his face.
Alexius's hands went onto her cheeks, “shh, Kile you’re okay."
Kile hadn’t realized she was crying. She turned her face to hide her tears behind his warm hands.
"I'm fine." she told him.
"No you’re not." he replied, wiping off her tears. Alexius knew that when Kile thought about the past, she cried her heart out.
Kile moved away from Alexius, wiping her own face off. She faked a smile, "I'm okay now."
Alexius followed her into the back of the cafe. Pushing past cooks and other workers, Kile made her way to the back of the cafe.
"Kile, Kile maybe you should go back home." Alexius told her after he caught up to her. He pulled Kile back to himself as he tried to walk.
Being pulled back by her apron made Kile almost fall. She turned to face Alexius for the second time this day. Sighing softly Kile tried to pull Alexius's hands off of her waist," You yell at me to get to work. Now you are telling me to go home," she pulled back once more - only to be pulled closer by Alexius. Kile could feel her face turn red. She didn't know why she got shy around Alexius suddenly. Kile and Alexius were best friends. After humans made their home on Jupiter, children were hard to find. Alexius was the same age as Kile. And their families seen them away, when both kids were 9 years old.
"Alexius, are you okay?" Kile asked. He gave her an odd look. Kile started to lay her hands on top of his hand.
“You have been acting odd lately." She said in a low tone, so the other workers couldn’t' hear them talking.
Alexius looked down at their hands," Kile, I don't want you hurt."
Before Kile knew it, Alexius was hugging her, pulling her closer to him. Kile couldn't move with Alexius's arms wrapped around her, " Alexius, what are you doing?"
Then his lips meet her's.
Kile blushed and closed her eyes. Feeling his warm lips on her own, felt good. She started to kiss Alexius back. The kisses took Kile's breath away. Something about how Alexius held her just felt so right to her.
Kile couldn’t' tell how long her and Alexius had been kissing, but when she heard a voice behind her and Alexius. She moved back from him and started ot fix her hair not really sure how much whoever was there saw them, her face was bright red. Alexius quickly stepped in front of Kile.
"I pay you humans’ good pay, and I see this." their boss said in a low tone. He, or what Kile assumed was a male in the alien race Adad, who came from Saturn.
The Adad's didn't have legs to stand up right. They had large wings, allowing them to stay into the air, but they also had tentacles. Adad's have an upper body resembling that of a human. They have two eyes, a mouth, nose, two arms, ears that are all humanoid.
Alexius moved to hide Kile better, "Sir, we were not doing anything wro-" he was stopped by Kile hitting his arm.
"Shut up." Kile told him. Her blue eyes full of hot tears, wanting to fun down her cheeks.
Their boss flapped his wings, thinking about how to deal with the two humans He crossed his arms over his chest," You both keep you’re jobs, but you now cannot work the same hours. And I mean it."
Alexius took a deep breath, he was about to start a fight. Only Kile raised her hand, slowly taking a deep breath like Alexius had done.
“I’ll go sir." was all she told the two males in the room. Alexius looked at him, as their boss raised an eye brow. When her boss tried to talk about her into staying and Alexius changing his times, she shook her head 'no'.
Kile took off her apron and gave it to Alexius. He looked sad, and tried to talk to her.
Only Kile had left already.
Kile made her way through the big trading market. Seeing the different alien races made her skin crawl. She looked over seeing an alien from Mars, called a Zarya.
The name Zarya was given to them by humans, mostly because human tongues couldn't say their true name. Kile remembered that Zarya was the name of a goddess of protecting all warriors in slave mythology.
The Zarya stood up right on the back of their legs, where if they wanted to run they could go much faster. They were dark colored in the skin, and they were very war like. Kile knew that back on Earth everyone in her old school class said Mars was the planet of war, they were right.
Kile looked away from the tall Zarya with a spire placed on it's back. She hoped it didn't see her watching it, but the hope fell when she heard a deep growl coming from the Zarya. She turned to an apple stand next to her.
She smiled softly at the Ashur woman standing behind the stand. The Ashur's were a beautiful race. They had big lustiest fairy like wings, they also had small little animal like creatures around them all the time. This Ashur woman had small little bird like animals.
" Would you like some Apples Miss? or that is what you kind calls them right?" she didn't seem too sure about how to speak to Kile. Who nodded and smiled taking a few apples, and paying for them.
" Thank you very much." Kile said before moving past other races and people to leave the Trading Market.
Kile walked until she got to the lake that the Isis made. The lake was large and full of mad-made water. The water was made from different gasses and other items, making it as close to real water.
The Isis wanted other to come to Jupiter and be friends. So when Tozis and Aino came to see others, there was a place for them to be at home with. Isis found a way to get some things fall of the races, so that they were all happy and friendly.
The Tozis and Ainos needed water, Isis placed lots of trees near the lake to make the Ashurs race feel more at home, the aliens from Mercury need a fire to stay alive. So the Isis made a park filled with fire and pieces to make them feel at home. Xelonen and Zarya who were from Venus and Mars were always fighting, there was a part of the market made for them to go and fight when ever they wanted too.
Kile looked at the large lake, that was made from man-made water. The water was made of different gases and other items, trying to make it as close to real water without the bacteria destroying it.
Kile sighed softly, before sitting down beside the lake. The water started to coruscate as the lights from the market started to die down. The green, blue, red, and pink colors dance across the water surface. She picked up an apple, she had gotten from the market. Kile took a small bite from the red colored apple. She notices something white coming to her in the water.
Moving over to the side of the lake, Kile tried to get a better look at whatever was coming closer. When she was close to the top of the lake water, a face popped out of the water next to her own face.
Kile fell backwards on to the ground, yelping as she felt the ground hit her back side.
A girl laughed, “Did I scare you?" she asked. The girl picked up the apple Kile had dropped when she fell.
Kile made a mean face, “Celeste, don't do that!"
The girl in front of her smiled," But, Kile you’re the only one that knows about me.” She said before taking a bite into the apple. She had long white/blue hair with slivered colored eyes. Celeste was smaller than Kile was, but Celeste was an Aino.
Kile shook her head as she got up. She wiped off her pants, “Yeah, because if anyone found out about you Celeste,” she stopped talking, watching her alien friend playing around in the lake water. Sighing again, Kile sat down nest to the alien girl.
Celeste waved her fish based tail at Kile,” by the way, Kile you’re here early. What happened?”
There was a groan from Kile. Hiding her face,” Alexius came to my house. He yelled at me about my work,” she rubbed her face trying not to get too worked up again about what had happened. Then she started to talk again “then well….umm...” Kile’s face started to turn bright shades of red. She tried not to notice Celeste laughing at her, then when I got to work. Alexius kissed me.”
Celeste pulled her body out of the water, sitting next to Kile,” Alexius and you kissed?’ she smiled.
Kile waved her hands in defense, “NO, I mean yes. Well I don’t really know what happened. Kile told her little friend.
Then she hugged her knees, “What I don’t get is why he kissed me, Alexius could find a different girl that wasn’t me.”
Celeste smiled again and started to watch her tail moving around in the water below her,” Well, the whole things seems right to me. You two have been friends for a long time. Both of you are, what in your 20’s?”
Kile looked up at her thought her purple hair” 27 and 27 and a half” she whispered
Celeste nodded, “See. Humans should have a mate by the time they hit 20 years old.” She made her tail go up and down in the water. Turning her own body to see what Kile was going to say. When Kile hadn’t moved any movement to say something to what Celeste said. Celeste started to laugh,” Your face.”
Kile growled softly,” Celeste!” she pushed the alien girl softly. Shaking her head,” we don’t mate like your kind does. We date, talk to each other, and by there some time hard times.” Kile looked down, “The only thing is” she took a deep breath.
Kile looked up after seeing the area light turn into a shade of blue. Lifting both of their heads the two girls started to see the aurora, which people could only see if they were on Jupiter. The aurora gave off a blue light that made everything, the tree leaves and the water surface turning into a lovely glowing color.
The girls laughed seeing how everything looked odd with the blue color over it. The laughing ended soon as Kile started to talk about the bacteria to Celeste.
"I'm think I'm close to finding some way to help you with the bacteria that is hurting water.” Kile said to her fishy friend next to her. Only to see Celeste face fills with worry.
“Don’t give me that look Celeste; you know that if I keep working I can find some way to stop the bacteria from eating away anything with water it in. Like you and I" she said looking at the water," just think. If I found a way to stop it or kill it off then you could go back to living in real water again."
Celeste went to open her mouth to try and fight with Kile about working so hard on these dangerous bacteria, but stopped when she heard a stick from behind the two girls. The little Aino girl jumped back into the water as Kile jumped to her feet and turned to see who was there.
“Who is there?" she yelled out into the coming darkness as the aurora started to end. Kile could hear whoever was there start to move out into the open area for her to see.
Alexius stepped out.
Kile quickly looked at the water to see if Celeste had the change to hide. Then looking back to where the person came out from, she almost screamed.
“Alexius don’t scare me like that!” Kile yelled at him seeing him standing in front of her.
He grabbed on to her arm and pointed to the water” What the hell was that next to you? Who was that thing?” Alexius sounded really mad about seeing someone next to Kile.
Kile gasped in pain before looking up at him, then to the water. She hoped that her other friend was safe from Alexius finding her.
“What was what?” she said before trying to get her arm free from him.
She heard a growl come from Alexius,” Was that an Aino?’ he held her arm tighter.
Kile bit her lip,” Oww, Alexius, you’re hurting me.” She told him faintly.
Water splashed onto both of them from the lake. Hitting mostly Alexius, who turned to see Celeste near the surface water.
“Stop hurting her, you jerk.” She told the boy.
Alexius let go of Kile and moved back immediately, “I was right you’re an Aino.”
Kile rubbed her arm where she was being held onto with,” Alexius don’t get upset.”
The hope Kile had of her two friends being friends of well started to fall as she saw Alexius back away even more than before. Celeste looked at the Alexius,” You need to be better to her then what you were doing boy.” She snapped at him.
“Don’t tell me what to you fish,” he snapped back as he pulled out his phone.
Kile shook her head and ran over to her child hood friend to try and stop him from using his phone,” Alexius don’t! Please don’t call them.” She cried out to him.
The phone was still in side of his hand went Kile grabbed onto his hand,” Kile I have to.” He said softly to her.
Kile shook her head “no you don’t. Alexius if you care about me like you were, and then you wouldn’t do it.”
Celeste watched the two humans talking, feeling bad about what she had done she moved back into the water.
Alexius looked away from Kile,” I have too, I really do. Because if I don’t turn her into the Higud then you will keep working and.” He pressed the call button on his phone,” And you might get hurt Kile.”
Kile let go of Alexius covering her mouth. She felt tears slide don’t her cheeks,” Alexius, why? I want to help Celeste about the bacteria and if I can find it about how to stop it then I can help human kind too.”
Cars started to drive up into the grassy part of the park area near the lake. The people had gotten out of their cars and walked over to the lake. One man walked over to Alexius and patted him on the shoulder. They talked for a few moments as the other workers started to move Celeste from the lake into a water filled tube. Kile moved over to Celeste and hugged her.
“Celeste I’m so sorry. I really did to help you stay here.” She whispered softly.
The man and Alexius walked over to the girls. Kile looked at the man thinking he was the leader of the little group here,” so what are you going to do? Send me to jail?” she sounded very upset.
The Man laughed softly, shaking his head at her,” Oh no we wouldn’t do that. Your friend here has told us that you have taken personal to working on the mystery bacteria that have distorted the water resources. We are working on it as well. What you call the bacteria is called the Pseudomonas dissociates.”
Kile looked at them oddly,” I have. So shouldn’t you be mad at me or something?’
Alexius tried to smile at her, but he looked so sad.
The leader patted Kile on the top of her head” No my dear child. Your friend has told me that you want to help with working on the bacteria.” Kile blinked a few times hearing the man speaking to her.
“You want me to work with you?” she asked stunned by hearing this news. She turned to Alexius,” you told them that I want to keep working on it?”
He nodded to reply her, but still didn’t talk.
“Well whenever you are ready to depart child, we will be waiting for you.” The man told her before walking over to the van, where Celeste was staying at.
Kile turned to Alexius,” thank you so much Alexius.”
He nodded slowly again watching her," I know that you want to help people and other things with the bacteria."
Kile looked down shyly," I'm sure I can come see you when ever you want me too...”
Alexius laughed softly," no you won’t. You don't change Kile. You will go and work and then forget about me here." he turned to leave the park. Only Kile pulled him back by his shirt making him stay to her.
"That is rude." she said rudely. Kile pulled out her pocket knife and started to cut her hair. Alexius tried to stop her, seeing her purple hair on the ground. He looked back up to Kile and touched her short hair now.
"You hate cutting your hair."
"I know that, but I want you to know I will come back." Kile said before kissing him one last time. Alexius hugged her" be careful please." he told her.
Kile waved bye to Alexius as she climbed into the van with the leader and Celeste. She told them that they could leave Jupiter now. Kile looked out at the park seeing Alexius standing there alone.
"I will come back, and I will find a way to stop the bacteria before it kills us all."
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Life, Love, and Prions
Three Years have passed since I last slept in my bed or have even seen the planet I call home. I finally manage to remember the way back to my suite. It’s nice having a floor all to myself, especially after having to share quarters with a hundred others in order to train them. As I step off on floor 183839—there are 183900 floors in total, with only cargo holds and docking above me—I pull up the EMS. The EMS is a screen made of energy that floats wherever I need it to and constantly updates itself. Pretty nifty if you ask me… OK, nifty is not the right word. I’m probably the only one in the universe, apart from the few friends I have infected it with and the historians who study the 2nd millennium and the 21st century, who still uses it.
The reason I do is because I have been studying up on my namesake, Marcus Nicolai Shade. My real name is Marcus Shade Neish. When I graduated high school, I officially changed it to Marcus Nicolai Shade. He lived at the beginning of the 21st century and did many things, most of which is still not known to the worlds. But of all my studies, I have yet to figure out why it took everyone until eighteen to get a high school degree. Nowadays, with the EMS and CR, Cranial Rumination, we can complete even the highest level of school by fifteen, which I did.
You see, the reason I have been gone is because I’m part of a group called the Higud, a society of scientists designed to ensure peace and the survival of all good and intelligent races. They contacted me shortly after the Fifteen Year War and asked if I wished to join their group. They explained that I would have security clearance that others could only dream of having and funds that would be immensely more than anyone else could offer. All I had to do is protect the races of our universe and help out in any way I could. I was twenty-three then; sixteen years later and I’m still glad I accepted.
I have become the head of about thirty towers with my main station at Station 548. My planet is mainly a water planet with islands encompassing it. Around the beginning of the 32nd century, when humans established a good relationship with all three of the RhiKuhm, all the people came together to form a tower for every island. It started with the surface dwelling Dimqen forming a base on each island. Then the Ciouln, an aquatic species, moved the islands to a predetermined point, all distanced from each other, and continued the tower down to the bottom of the planet’s surface. The Trfemin built up the tower to the limits of their domain, and the humans helped out wherever they saw fit.
I wake up at six o’clock next morning, right about dawn, and decide to just lie around for an hour. I then go to make breakfast, a tasty mix of oatmeal, bananas, and cgiryt (that’s a fruit from Sigma Trii, very tasty). I think about working out in my personal gym but decide against it; I want to see what the main gym looks like.
Nothing has changed. Every weight is right in place and every mirror is as polished as the day I left. I’d bet money they spent the last week putting right all the wrong they did to this place. And something else that hasn’t changed: No one is around. It is a common phenomenon for everyone to avoid this place till mid-afternoon.
Having nothing better to do for a few hours, I work out for a bit. I start out on the bench press then head to the leg extensions and finish up with some neck exercises, plus a few other exercises sprinkled in here and there. I designed this place to look just like a 21st century gym, with a few added machines for my non-human colleagues.
Around two hours later, the pool starts calling my name. Having done no cardio for the day, a few laps around it starts to sound pretty good. And what would be the chance of my bringing my trunks with me? Only about 100%. I head into the locker room and change and dive straight into the icy liquid serenity. One of the calmest places on the planet is in water. That’s why the Ciouln are the most peaceful of the races. I spend an ungodly amount of time just swimming back and forth till I can’t feel my muscles any more. As I pull my self up over the edge and grab my towel to wipe off the excess water that doesn’t dry itself off my abnormally warm skin, I hear a voice right out of my worst and best memories.
“Looks like you put on another tattoo,” said the blonde haired, blue eyed, fair skinned woman from across the pool.
“Well, if it isn’t Maria, my one true love.” I say back. My words have a double meaning. You see, Maria and I have been dating on and off for ten years now, ever since she came here from Earth. There are very few of us here, Earthies that is. We decided that it would be best if we broke up when I went away, but we stayed in touch and faithful to each other the whole time. I had planned on finding her and restating my love for her but it seems she found me.
“How was the camp, babe? Miss me much?”
“Only with every fiber of my being. Any news I should know of? Like maybe if you plan on being mine again?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
In a word, yes. You see, Maria and I usually fight over something trivial and break up every other month. This last time, we managed to go two years till I had to leave. It’s overly amazing that she still is able to be with me. I say this with as much tact as I can muster: She is a drop dead gorgeous female, goddess-like even. In fact, before she came here she was one of the top models on Earth. Why she came here is a mystery; why she puts up with me is even more so. Oh no, I think she is saying something.
“Hello, thanks for coming back to me. Let me guess, you just thought ‘Oh no, she is saying something.’ Am I right?” She knows me too well.
“Why would I say that? I always listen.”
“Liar. Now, answer me. Did you get another tattoo or not?”
“Ummmm, well you see there was this one guy that offered a really good price, and it goes really well with my scars…” I stutter out. I should mention that I have a few “tats”. You see, Marcus of yore had a pair of wings on his back: one angæl, one dæmon. When I started college and changed my name over, I also branded myself with the wings. They also make up part of our crest, so it worked. When I was in the Army, I was hit with a lot of shrapnel and skimmed by bullets. I also took part in sword training. Let’s just say that a scar on my face is a one of the few reminders. Ever since I put one on each hand (suns), I’ve added them to my upper arm (bands), foot (lightning bolts), lower leg (daggers), stomach (a sword originating at the scar going down), and now the one on my torso, the one that is being questioned.
“What is that? Is that a… seriously? A rose, you put a rose on your torso? And is that MY NAME?” She seems a bit mad, or is that love, or concern, or excitement?
“Of course that’s a rose. See the stem is actually a scar. And, that is your name right in the middle made of dew. Pretty, huh?”
“I love it!” Love, then. “But, you’re still in trouble over it.” And there is anger. Though, what is love without a little anger.
“Oh, you know you would have approved of it anyway if I had asked you. Consider it a present. Besides, you missed me too much.”
“I swear I did not miss that arrogance and cockiness. But, I guess I did miss you a little bit.”
“Well if that’s all you missed me, then I think I’ll sign up for another session tomorrow.”
As I turn away from her, I start to smile. While we were talking, she had started to walk closer towards me. At the time of my last statement she was only around a hundred feet away. I don’t think I have ever seen anyone get into a bathing suit and tackle someone at a hundred yards so quickly. Part of me is sure it was planned anyway. We get ourselves untangled and cannot for the life of us stop laughing.
Later that night, we have a nice candle light dinner on one of the various balconies that adorn the tower. It is a lovely occasion: the Trfemin orchestra is playing, the local seafood platter is at its best, and the loveliest girl on the planet is sitting across from me as we eat in the light of the sunset. It is moments like these that I wonder why I don’t marry her.
I am awakened by the smell of fresh cgiryt pancakes and know instantly what I will find when I walk into the kitchen. Maria is making enough food to feed the whole 7th Division (that is the name of the largest of the squadrons that protect the tower). She says we have a big day today. I question her as to what that means, and she informs me that today is the weekly department report.
Groaning, I go back and put on my usual outfit of faded jeans and black t-shirt and return to the kitchen and eat. We finish breakfast and head to the elevator. The staff briefing takes place at my actual office floor 91950 in the exact middle of the Station. Well not the exact middle, since the underwater floors are immensely higher, but in number it is the middle.
There are about ninety committees from all thirty stations that divide into clusters of thirty and then into five. I have to look at five people at a time and hear what they have to say and pass or decline their request for funding. It’s not bad, but it’s not the best. I prefer when I can actually do lab work, which I make sure I get to do, then when I have to do the managerial stuff. It has its high points though. I really can’t complain about my job. It’s exactly right for me.
I put the ones I know I can understand without the translator last, so for the first good portion of it, I rely on the machine to tell me what they are saying. It is a good thing that technology has advanced so much. I am told that these things came out only a hundred years prior to my birth.
I pass most of the requests and give less then requested too many. I never directly say no to a project. As I am getting closer to the end, I turn the translator lower and lower. Eventually I just turn it off. I love the sound of the natives. I wrap up the meetings and depart for my study. As I sit down, I start leafing through some of the graphs and essays. Most of the scholars here are doing quite well to say the least.
I manage to stay awake enough to read every one of the ninety reports. I must be a masochist because as I finish up, I send for the rest of the logs: maintenance, visitor, complaint, shipment, and any other various logs people think I need to review. These are infinitely less exciting than the meetings. But just as I get done reading the last shipment log, I get a feeling that I missed something in one of the previous reports. I decide to check it out later, after I’ve finished the last sixty papers.
I begin the monotonous task by dividing up the reports into which tower they hail from, then on to which of the three sectors they are located in: Water, Land, and Sky. After that I review each report that identifies itself with an individual committee and then go over the collective reports, followed by the whole tower reports. It takes awhile, but eventually I am able to determine that something is up in MY TOWER, of all places. And now that I know which sector it is, I can farther narrow it down.
You see, there are a few discrepancies in the logs for the aquatic sector of my tower: maintenance logs half-filled, power reports not matching outlines, unknown visitors reporting directly to the level, and material that has nothing to do with current experiments being brought directly to them with private money. Individually, things like that normally have no malevolent force behind them; but when they’re put together, they usually add up to trouble. And this would not be the first trouble with the occupants of towers. About every two hundred years someone gets it in his/her head that he/she could do a better job than whoever is charge. It never works out but still it shakes a person.
I honestly don’t see this happening here, but something is definitely up. To make matters worse, it is happening in my home. So, I think I will take trip down to visit Dr. June. Dr. James June is a Wkihm who maintains all his Human qualities and heads a team of fifteen: three Trfemin, three Dimqen, three Ciouln, three Wkihm (one of each differentiation), and three humans. It is an interesting group, but every group is made up of such ratios. In fact, it is a standard in my towers to try to plan teams with such a ratio, though if circumstances require change then so be it.
This particular group is supposed to be trying to engineer a way to carry water effectively to more desert planets, and then to make the water last until it is needed by the carriers. That would explain the materials if they wanted to get creative, and maybe the secrecy of the maintenance logs, but not the unknown visitors. So I take the elevator down to Level 5823 to interrogate the good doctor.
I get down there and navigate the hallways to the designated lab. I go to open the door just as Dr. June does, leaving and talking over his shoulder. We nearly collide but I step back before that happens. He turns to see me and profusely apologizes and asks if I need something. I reply with a yes, there are certain things on the records that need to be addressed. He agrees to meet with me on the morrow, precisely at eight in the morning.
Thinking that the meeting went too well, I ask if he can show me around the lab right now. His response is for me to show myself in and his assistants will answer any of my questions because he must get to a seminar soon. I recall scheduling him for tonight, so I let him slip past. I head into room and look around noting that everything is in order and that I can sense nothing out of order.
You may say to yourself that sensing can be deceptive, but I must add one thing. Granddad to the umpteenth Great learned a way to channel what was at one time controversial but is now considered common to talk about. That thing is what we call our aura and chi. He left documented records on certain procedures that can be used, and these have stayed in the family ever since. The outside world has no idea of my and my relatives’ potential for we never publicly display it. That is another reason for the tattoos. They offer an easy way to exploit this 5th dimensional energy. Most vehicles made after mine and starting with my current vessel all have some tie to the aura energy.
Seeing nothing in the room, and feeling that all my questions are being answered truthfully, I leave the eight assistants alone and retire to my room.
I meet early next morning with Dr. James and find him to be as pleasant as the day I first met him. He became one of my mentors when I became a resident here. In all truthfulness, he should have been selected for my post. But, thanks to my post in the Higud and, honestly, with no begging on my part; I was chosen. As far as I can tell, there is no ill will between us. I even have been known to go to him for advice.
This meeting is one of the blackest days of my career. I must sit here and question my mentor on some minor discrepancies. Alas, there must come a time when the student shall surpass the teacher and look down with unbiased judgment. That was another quote from my ancestor—a blast from the past so to speak if using lingo from that century of yesteryears.
“I am glad to have you in my office, but must confess that the circumstances are not as I wish they were. After my long absence, I took time out to study the reports by the different divisions of the towers and find that there are misalignments when it comes to your department. I am asking you as a friend, is something going on?” I feel horrible when I say this, but from his face I can tell that he is as shocked as I am.
“Marc, dear Marc, I am sorry it came to this. I do not doubt your faith in me and understand why you choose to speak privately. I now see why there was fear in your eyes yesterday. But fear not, for I know not what the problems are or that anything has occurred. I have even set up an EMS camera in the room and hidden it so that if any unauthorized goings on occurred, I would know of it. I have it so that it uploads directly to my brain, so if you wish to do a Translation of Knowledge, I would gladly do so to clean my name. I have no secrets, lest of all from you.”
I stare out the window at the pink hued sunset, contemplating my next move. I know I must do the Translation and that he bears no malice to me from this, but it still feels foolish. I continue to stare, but extend my palm toward him in acceptance of what is to come next.
I feel his cool hand connect to mine before the heat of the cranial connection blocks out all else. I feel myself floating in his mind as he floats in mine, observing each other’s memories; no secret left unshared, no experience left unfelt. This is something I have only done with Maria, Ty, and James. They know me for me as I know them for them. It feels weird at first but after a few tries, it gets relaxing.
I flow to where it concerns the lab work and feel him come up beside me. We grab popcorn (yes, we materialized popcorn) and watch the instant replay. For the most part I get engrossed in his work, but then I start noticing that five of the assistants are acting shady. I start to say something when it hits me: Dr. James has thirteen assistants but there were only eight today. James senses this as I do. We scour his memories for any hint of the five in question and what we find startles us. All we can do is stare at each other with complete understanding. At least a group of five is doing something they shouldn’t.
We immediately pull up my EMS and check for their records. All five are going to places that no five people should at the same time. Not only that, but ten others are also in with them. At first I am not sure what to do, but Dr. June proposes he watches them for another week and then report back to Maria and me on his findings. I agree with him that his course of action would be best.
It turns out that the group is working on some water project in the guise of being part of James’s group. They have brought in people from other towers and planets in hopes to raise funds for their little project. They believe that by isolating a prion (virus) that can bond similar to water thanks to a mutation, a prion that attacks the nervous system, causing the brain to shut all down all functions save for the basic ones and one function that is saved into its RNA, the scientists hope to distribute a new form of “water”—a compound that contains one hydrogen, one oxygen, and one prion—to take over this tower, this world, and one day the galaxies.
I immediately call for the 7th Division. As we all gather together we plot our surprise attack on the group. I plan on going in with Maria and James and questioning the group about its behaviors. If I need back up, the squad is right outside.
We take the thirteen elevators spread out across the tower to where the lab is. We disembark and move into position. I knock and one of the less fortunate of the group opens the door to let me in but is yelled at by the supposed leader to ask for I.D. Instead I just push the door open. They all jump up and shout profanities but eventually calm down. I open my mouth to ask why they are all jumpy, but one of the humans walks up to me and asks what business I have with him.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I am a peaceful guy that can get along with anyone. But when a person directly disrespects me, and shows such ignorance in my tower about the director of said tower, I tend to take offense. Especially when a person does so in a cocky voice that displays cowardice and arrogance. Needless to say, I punch him in the face. I send him to the ground and stare down his buddies to see if anyone has objections to my actions.
They stare calmly ahead after I flash my I.D. and walk in front of their impromptu line. I ask questions of each as I wait for the leader to recover. My queries elicit that they have worked on the project for two years, ever since the one of the floor arrived here. His name if Charles Hilt and he has no remarkable traits. He convinced the fourteen to join him in an experiment; but they do not know the outcome of the whole, just the individual results. I send the group, including the unconscious to Guimn, a local dwarf planet, to be brought before an Assembly of Upstanding when possible.
I would like to say that everything turned out just fine. And for the first time in the galaxy in a long time, it did. I turned Charles over to the Higud police and proposed to Maria. From now on, life will be easy. I have no insane scientists to watch for (except my kids—Maria and I have been married for a few years and now have two kids) and life is relatively calm. I only hope that wherever he is, the original Marcus Shade is happy with how I handle the situations that I come upon.
The reason I do is because I have been studying up on my namesake, Marcus Nicolai Shade. My real name is Marcus Shade Neish. When I graduated high school, I officially changed it to Marcus Nicolai Shade. He lived at the beginning of the 21st century and did many things, most of which is still not known to the worlds. But of all my studies, I have yet to figure out why it took everyone until eighteen to get a high school degree. Nowadays, with the EMS and CR, Cranial Rumination, we can complete even the highest level of school by fifteen, which I did.
You see, the reason I have been gone is because I’m part of a group called the Higud, a society of scientists designed to ensure peace and the survival of all good and intelligent races. They contacted me shortly after the Fifteen Year War and asked if I wished to join their group. They explained that I would have security clearance that others could only dream of having and funds that would be immensely more than anyone else could offer. All I had to do is protect the races of our universe and help out in any way I could. I was twenty-three then; sixteen years later and I’m still glad I accepted.
I have become the head of about thirty towers with my main station at Station 548. My planet is mainly a water planet with islands encompassing it. Around the beginning of the 32nd century, when humans established a good relationship with all three of the RhiKuhm, all the people came together to form a tower for every island. It started with the surface dwelling Dimqen forming a base on each island. Then the Ciouln, an aquatic species, moved the islands to a predetermined point, all distanced from each other, and continued the tower down to the bottom of the planet’s surface. The Trfemin built up the tower to the limits of their domain, and the humans helped out wherever they saw fit.
I wake up at six o’clock next morning, right about dawn, and decide to just lie around for an hour. I then go to make breakfast, a tasty mix of oatmeal, bananas, and cgiryt (that’s a fruit from Sigma Trii, very tasty). I think about working out in my personal gym but decide against it; I want to see what the main gym looks like.
Nothing has changed. Every weight is right in place and every mirror is as polished as the day I left. I’d bet money they spent the last week putting right all the wrong they did to this place. And something else that hasn’t changed: No one is around. It is a common phenomenon for everyone to avoid this place till mid-afternoon.
Having nothing better to do for a few hours, I work out for a bit. I start out on the bench press then head to the leg extensions and finish up with some neck exercises, plus a few other exercises sprinkled in here and there. I designed this place to look just like a 21st century gym, with a few added machines for my non-human colleagues.
Around two hours later, the pool starts calling my name. Having done no cardio for the day, a few laps around it starts to sound pretty good. And what would be the chance of my bringing my trunks with me? Only about 100%. I head into the locker room and change and dive straight into the icy liquid serenity. One of the calmest places on the planet is in water. That’s why the Ciouln are the most peaceful of the races. I spend an ungodly amount of time just swimming back and forth till I can’t feel my muscles any more. As I pull my self up over the edge and grab my towel to wipe off the excess water that doesn’t dry itself off my abnormally warm skin, I hear a voice right out of my worst and best memories.
“Looks like you put on another tattoo,” said the blonde haired, blue eyed, fair skinned woman from across the pool.
“Well, if it isn’t Maria, my one true love.” I say back. My words have a double meaning. You see, Maria and I have been dating on and off for ten years now, ever since she came here from Earth. There are very few of us here, Earthies that is. We decided that it would be best if we broke up when I went away, but we stayed in touch and faithful to each other the whole time. I had planned on finding her and restating my love for her but it seems she found me.
“How was the camp, babe? Miss me much?”
“Only with every fiber of my being. Any news I should know of? Like maybe if you plan on being mine again?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
In a word, yes. You see, Maria and I usually fight over something trivial and break up every other month. This last time, we managed to go two years till I had to leave. It’s overly amazing that she still is able to be with me. I say this with as much tact as I can muster: She is a drop dead gorgeous female, goddess-like even. In fact, before she came here she was one of the top models on Earth. Why she came here is a mystery; why she puts up with me is even more so. Oh no, I think she is saying something.
“Hello, thanks for coming back to me. Let me guess, you just thought ‘Oh no, she is saying something.’ Am I right?” She knows me too well.
“Why would I say that? I always listen.”
“Liar. Now, answer me. Did you get another tattoo or not?”
“Ummmm, well you see there was this one guy that offered a really good price, and it goes really well with my scars…” I stutter out. I should mention that I have a few “tats”. You see, Marcus of yore had a pair of wings on his back: one angæl, one dæmon. When I started college and changed my name over, I also branded myself with the wings. They also make up part of our crest, so it worked. When I was in the Army, I was hit with a lot of shrapnel and skimmed by bullets. I also took part in sword training. Let’s just say that a scar on my face is a one of the few reminders. Ever since I put one on each hand (suns), I’ve added them to my upper arm (bands), foot (lightning bolts), lower leg (daggers), stomach (a sword originating at the scar going down), and now the one on my torso, the one that is being questioned.
“What is that? Is that a… seriously? A rose, you put a rose on your torso? And is that MY NAME?” She seems a bit mad, or is that love, or concern, or excitement?
“Of course that’s a rose. See the stem is actually a scar. And, that is your name right in the middle made of dew. Pretty, huh?”
“I love it!” Love, then. “But, you’re still in trouble over it.” And there is anger. Though, what is love without a little anger.
“Oh, you know you would have approved of it anyway if I had asked you. Consider it a present. Besides, you missed me too much.”
“I swear I did not miss that arrogance and cockiness. But, I guess I did miss you a little bit.”
“Well if that’s all you missed me, then I think I’ll sign up for another session tomorrow.”
As I turn away from her, I start to smile. While we were talking, she had started to walk closer towards me. At the time of my last statement she was only around a hundred feet away. I don’t think I have ever seen anyone get into a bathing suit and tackle someone at a hundred yards so quickly. Part of me is sure it was planned anyway. We get ourselves untangled and cannot for the life of us stop laughing.
Later that night, we have a nice candle light dinner on one of the various balconies that adorn the tower. It is a lovely occasion: the Trfemin orchestra is playing, the local seafood platter is at its best, and the loveliest girl on the planet is sitting across from me as we eat in the light of the sunset. It is moments like these that I wonder why I don’t marry her.
I am awakened by the smell of fresh cgiryt pancakes and know instantly what I will find when I walk into the kitchen. Maria is making enough food to feed the whole 7th Division (that is the name of the largest of the squadrons that protect the tower). She says we have a big day today. I question her as to what that means, and she informs me that today is the weekly department report.
Groaning, I go back and put on my usual outfit of faded jeans and black t-shirt and return to the kitchen and eat. We finish breakfast and head to the elevator. The staff briefing takes place at my actual office floor 91950 in the exact middle of the Station. Well not the exact middle, since the underwater floors are immensely higher, but in number it is the middle.
There are about ninety committees from all thirty stations that divide into clusters of thirty and then into five. I have to look at five people at a time and hear what they have to say and pass or decline their request for funding. It’s not bad, but it’s not the best. I prefer when I can actually do lab work, which I make sure I get to do, then when I have to do the managerial stuff. It has its high points though. I really can’t complain about my job. It’s exactly right for me.
I put the ones I know I can understand without the translator last, so for the first good portion of it, I rely on the machine to tell me what they are saying. It is a good thing that technology has advanced so much. I am told that these things came out only a hundred years prior to my birth.
I pass most of the requests and give less then requested too many. I never directly say no to a project. As I am getting closer to the end, I turn the translator lower and lower. Eventually I just turn it off. I love the sound of the natives. I wrap up the meetings and depart for my study. As I sit down, I start leafing through some of the graphs and essays. Most of the scholars here are doing quite well to say the least.
I manage to stay awake enough to read every one of the ninety reports. I must be a masochist because as I finish up, I send for the rest of the logs: maintenance, visitor, complaint, shipment, and any other various logs people think I need to review. These are infinitely less exciting than the meetings. But just as I get done reading the last shipment log, I get a feeling that I missed something in one of the previous reports. I decide to check it out later, after I’ve finished the last sixty papers.
I begin the monotonous task by dividing up the reports into which tower they hail from, then on to which of the three sectors they are located in: Water, Land, and Sky. After that I review each report that identifies itself with an individual committee and then go over the collective reports, followed by the whole tower reports. It takes awhile, but eventually I am able to determine that something is up in MY TOWER, of all places. And now that I know which sector it is, I can farther narrow it down.
You see, there are a few discrepancies in the logs for the aquatic sector of my tower: maintenance logs half-filled, power reports not matching outlines, unknown visitors reporting directly to the level, and material that has nothing to do with current experiments being brought directly to them with private money. Individually, things like that normally have no malevolent force behind them; but when they’re put together, they usually add up to trouble. And this would not be the first trouble with the occupants of towers. About every two hundred years someone gets it in his/her head that he/she could do a better job than whoever is charge. It never works out but still it shakes a person.
I honestly don’t see this happening here, but something is definitely up. To make matters worse, it is happening in my home. So, I think I will take trip down to visit Dr. June. Dr. James June is a Wkihm who maintains all his Human qualities and heads a team of fifteen: three Trfemin, three Dimqen, three Ciouln, three Wkihm (one of each differentiation), and three humans. It is an interesting group, but every group is made up of such ratios. In fact, it is a standard in my towers to try to plan teams with such a ratio, though if circumstances require change then so be it.
This particular group is supposed to be trying to engineer a way to carry water effectively to more desert planets, and then to make the water last until it is needed by the carriers. That would explain the materials if they wanted to get creative, and maybe the secrecy of the maintenance logs, but not the unknown visitors. So I take the elevator down to Level 5823 to interrogate the good doctor.
I get down there and navigate the hallways to the designated lab. I go to open the door just as Dr. June does, leaving and talking over his shoulder. We nearly collide but I step back before that happens. He turns to see me and profusely apologizes and asks if I need something. I reply with a yes, there are certain things on the records that need to be addressed. He agrees to meet with me on the morrow, precisely at eight in the morning.
Thinking that the meeting went too well, I ask if he can show me around the lab right now. His response is for me to show myself in and his assistants will answer any of my questions because he must get to a seminar soon. I recall scheduling him for tonight, so I let him slip past. I head into room and look around noting that everything is in order and that I can sense nothing out of order.
You may say to yourself that sensing can be deceptive, but I must add one thing. Granddad to the umpteenth Great learned a way to channel what was at one time controversial but is now considered common to talk about. That thing is what we call our aura and chi. He left documented records on certain procedures that can be used, and these have stayed in the family ever since. The outside world has no idea of my and my relatives’ potential for we never publicly display it. That is another reason for the tattoos. They offer an easy way to exploit this 5th dimensional energy. Most vehicles made after mine and starting with my current vessel all have some tie to the aura energy.
Seeing nothing in the room, and feeling that all my questions are being answered truthfully, I leave the eight assistants alone and retire to my room.
I meet early next morning with Dr. James and find him to be as pleasant as the day I first met him. He became one of my mentors when I became a resident here. In all truthfulness, he should have been selected for my post. But, thanks to my post in the Higud and, honestly, with no begging on my part; I was chosen. As far as I can tell, there is no ill will between us. I even have been known to go to him for advice.
This meeting is one of the blackest days of my career. I must sit here and question my mentor on some minor discrepancies. Alas, there must come a time when the student shall surpass the teacher and look down with unbiased judgment. That was another quote from my ancestor—a blast from the past so to speak if using lingo from that century of yesteryears.
“I am glad to have you in my office, but must confess that the circumstances are not as I wish they were. After my long absence, I took time out to study the reports by the different divisions of the towers and find that there are misalignments when it comes to your department. I am asking you as a friend, is something going on?” I feel horrible when I say this, but from his face I can tell that he is as shocked as I am.
“Marc, dear Marc, I am sorry it came to this. I do not doubt your faith in me and understand why you choose to speak privately. I now see why there was fear in your eyes yesterday. But fear not, for I know not what the problems are or that anything has occurred. I have even set up an EMS camera in the room and hidden it so that if any unauthorized goings on occurred, I would know of it. I have it so that it uploads directly to my brain, so if you wish to do a Translation of Knowledge, I would gladly do so to clean my name. I have no secrets, lest of all from you.”
I stare out the window at the pink hued sunset, contemplating my next move. I know I must do the Translation and that he bears no malice to me from this, but it still feels foolish. I continue to stare, but extend my palm toward him in acceptance of what is to come next.
I feel his cool hand connect to mine before the heat of the cranial connection blocks out all else. I feel myself floating in his mind as he floats in mine, observing each other’s memories; no secret left unshared, no experience left unfelt. This is something I have only done with Maria, Ty, and James. They know me for me as I know them for them. It feels weird at first but after a few tries, it gets relaxing.
I flow to where it concerns the lab work and feel him come up beside me. We grab popcorn (yes, we materialized popcorn) and watch the instant replay. For the most part I get engrossed in his work, but then I start noticing that five of the assistants are acting shady. I start to say something when it hits me: Dr. James has thirteen assistants but there were only eight today. James senses this as I do. We scour his memories for any hint of the five in question and what we find startles us. All we can do is stare at each other with complete understanding. At least a group of five is doing something they shouldn’t.
We immediately pull up my EMS and check for their records. All five are going to places that no five people should at the same time. Not only that, but ten others are also in with them. At first I am not sure what to do, but Dr. June proposes he watches them for another week and then report back to Maria and me on his findings. I agree with him that his course of action would be best.
It turns out that the group is working on some water project in the guise of being part of James’s group. They have brought in people from other towers and planets in hopes to raise funds for their little project. They believe that by isolating a prion (virus) that can bond similar to water thanks to a mutation, a prion that attacks the nervous system, causing the brain to shut all down all functions save for the basic ones and one function that is saved into its RNA, the scientists hope to distribute a new form of “water”—a compound that contains one hydrogen, one oxygen, and one prion—to take over this tower, this world, and one day the galaxies.
I immediately call for the 7th Division. As we all gather together we plot our surprise attack on the group. I plan on going in with Maria and James and questioning the group about its behaviors. If I need back up, the squad is right outside.
We take the thirteen elevators spread out across the tower to where the lab is. We disembark and move into position. I knock and one of the less fortunate of the group opens the door to let me in but is yelled at by the supposed leader to ask for I.D. Instead I just push the door open. They all jump up and shout profanities but eventually calm down. I open my mouth to ask why they are all jumpy, but one of the humans walks up to me and asks what business I have with him.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I am a peaceful guy that can get along with anyone. But when a person directly disrespects me, and shows such ignorance in my tower about the director of said tower, I tend to take offense. Especially when a person does so in a cocky voice that displays cowardice and arrogance. Needless to say, I punch him in the face. I send him to the ground and stare down his buddies to see if anyone has objections to my actions.
They stare calmly ahead after I flash my I.D. and walk in front of their impromptu line. I ask questions of each as I wait for the leader to recover. My queries elicit that they have worked on the project for two years, ever since the one of the floor arrived here. His name if Charles Hilt and he has no remarkable traits. He convinced the fourteen to join him in an experiment; but they do not know the outcome of the whole, just the individual results. I send the group, including the unconscious to Guimn, a local dwarf planet, to be brought before an Assembly of Upstanding when possible.
I would like to say that everything turned out just fine. And for the first time in the galaxy in a long time, it did. I turned Charles over to the Higud police and proposed to Maria. From now on, life will be easy. I have no insane scientists to watch for (except my kids—Maria and I have been married for a few years and now have two kids) and life is relatively calm. I only hope that wherever he is, the original Marcus Shade is happy with how I handle the situations that I come upon.
THE END
The End
3,000 A.D.
Packing for his trip, destination 10,000 B.C., he just wants to get away from all of his complicated technology. He regrets ever inventing the carbon eating nanobots, but he didn’t want to disappoint everyone. Everyone had depended on him to find a solution to the oil spill, so he did. The only bad thing about these carbon-eating nanobots is if they ever get out of hand it will be the end….of everything. Now he is going to put the bots into his assistant, Jericho’s, hands. For once Lionel will not be held responsible if anything does happen.
10,000 B.C.
He just landed in the ‘Cavemen Times’. The time and space machine makes his bones ache. Stretching, he finally feels relaxed. He reassures himself that Jericho would be perfectly fine alone. Finally, he decides to leave the machine and find a place to stay. Little does Lionel know his time machine is not going to be there for long. There are other inhabitants, about whom Lionel has no knowledge.
Lionel is searching for a place to stay when he hears something behind him. Vroom. Thinking it is all in his head, he goes back to his search. He hears it again, so he whips his head around.
“That sounds like my time machine, but it is probably just an animal though,” Lionel thinks to himself.
What he doesn’t know is that something else is taking his time and space machine on a little ride…..
3,000 A.D.
The beastly thing steps out of the small, compared to him, machine. This is a whole new world to him. He is stumbling down the streets staring up at the gigantic sky scrapers as if he were a child in a candy shop.
He comes upon a smaller building with an electric fence around it. Caution signs were hung all over the fence. The signs did not do any good for Leroy because his is illiterate. Leroy ripped the lock off the gate and entered. He came up on a small circular building with many locks on the door. Being as strong as he was, Leroy just ripped the door open. When he opens the door he saw a man, obviously a guard, in the corner. Around him were at least 150 human look a likes.
Leroy reaches out to touch one and it slaps his hand back. Startled, Leroy runs out of the building leaving the door open. The metal humans pour out into the streets. He hears yelling coming from the building that he and the bots deserted. He turns around to see the sleeping guard running to get the bots back in, but he fails. The bots grab him in their arms and destroy his body.
After seeing this, Leroy runs for his life. He goes back to the time and space machine and away from this bizarre place.
10,000 B.C.
Leroy arrives back at his home in just enough time to miss Lionel. Lionel was packing to go back to his stressful responsibilities in the real world. He steps into his time and space machine and off he goes…..
3,000 A.D.
Lionel steps out of the machine. His eyes take a minute to adjust, and then he looks around. Everything is gone. Only nanobots were to be seen.
“Jerichooooooo”
3,000 A.D.
Packing for his trip, destination 10,000 B.C., he just wants to get away from all of his complicated technology. He regrets ever inventing the carbon eating nanobots, but he didn’t want to disappoint everyone. Everyone had depended on him to find a solution to the oil spill, so he did. The only bad thing about these carbon-eating nanobots is if they ever get out of hand it will be the end….of everything. Now he is going to put the bots into his assistant, Jericho’s, hands. For once Lionel will not be held responsible if anything does happen.
10,000 B.C.
He just landed in the ‘Cavemen Times’. The time and space machine makes his bones ache. Stretching, he finally feels relaxed. He reassures himself that Jericho would be perfectly fine alone. Finally, he decides to leave the machine and find a place to stay. Little does Lionel know his time machine is not going to be there for long. There are other inhabitants, about whom Lionel has no knowledge.
Lionel is searching for a place to stay when he hears something behind him. Vroom. Thinking it is all in his head, he goes back to his search. He hears it again, so he whips his head around.
“That sounds like my time machine, but it is probably just an animal though,” Lionel thinks to himself.
What he doesn’t know is that something else is taking his time and space machine on a little ride…..
3,000 A.D.
The beastly thing steps out of the small, compared to him, machine. This is a whole new world to him. He is stumbling down the streets staring up at the gigantic sky scrapers as if he were a child in a candy shop.
He comes upon a smaller building with an electric fence around it. Caution signs were hung all over the fence. The signs did not do any good for Leroy because his is illiterate. Leroy ripped the lock off the gate and entered. He came up on a small circular building with many locks on the door. Being as strong as he was, Leroy just ripped the door open. When he opens the door he saw a man, obviously a guard, in the corner. Around him were at least 150 human look a likes.
Leroy reaches out to touch one and it slaps his hand back. Startled, Leroy runs out of the building leaving the door open. The metal humans pour out into the streets. He hears yelling coming from the building that he and the bots deserted. He turns around to see the sleeping guard running to get the bots back in, but he fails. The bots grab him in their arms and destroy his body.
After seeing this, Leroy runs for his life. He goes back to the time and space machine and away from this bizarre place.
10,000 B.C.
Leroy arrives back at his home in just enough time to miss Lionel. Lionel was packing to go back to his stressful responsibilities in the real world. He steps into his time and space machine and off he goes…..
3,000 A.D.
Lionel steps out of the machine. His eyes take a minute to adjust, and then he looks around. Everything is gone. Only nanobots were to be seen.
“Jerichooooooo”
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Quhziy
Prologue
He was running home while the sun was setting. All he could think of was that he had to get home as soon as possible, but there was only one thing that was in his way. Like most all the forests, it unexpectedly pours down rain. He could have stayed at the neighbor’s house, which is about an hour from his home, but he just had to get home. It was quickly becoming darker and he could barely see the trees ahead of him.
He came to a decision. To take the path or to cut through the woods. The only thing mysterious about it was that it had never been explored before and it was a part of the Meclera Woods, a deep forest that no one dares to explore.
Since the big move from Earth to Quhziy, a highly vegetated planet, people dared not to explore the woods for what may live in it. The Meclera Woods has the biggest and strangest trees and plants. Anyone who has explored it had never returned.
He looked at the path and thought it would be best to run straight though and he’ll be home in half the time. That was the last we have ever heard of Malvery again.
- - - - - - - - Six years later - - - - - - - -
Nothing much has changed for Tocera, a girl that’s 10 years old. Her birthday is coming up and she can’t help but to think that it’s her fault that her brother disappeared. Thinking back to when she was 5, when her brother was her hero. They would go and play in the yard, discover new creatures, he would walk her to school, and he was making her a tree house. He was everything to her.
She dreads this upcoming week. It’s going to be her birthday and she will be 11, but it will also be the 6th year that he had gone missing. All she can do is think that it’s all her fault.
It’s just another day playing on the playground to the other kids but to Tocera it was a day that she will always regret. Six years ago on that playground it was another day for Tocera. She would play on the playground with her brother about once a week. That very day
Malvery asked, “So sis. Do you have anything on your mind for your birthday?”
Tocera thought for a moment and replied, “Well, I have always wanted a doll. I see the other girls with dolls and how pretty they are. Big Bubby, can I have a doll for my birthday?”
Here in Qhuziy there are barely any toys. Mostly what people do is that they work from the age of 11 until they are unable to. The reason why they start working at a young age is because it’s a new planet and they need to have people working in the trees and make tree houses, or they work in the schools, or they work for other people to do their yards or clear out the woods for more land.
Malvery worked in the trees and got some money for his mother, his sister, and himself. He had a little money to spend and he wanted to get his sister something special. The night of his sister’s birthday was the night that their order came in and that was the same night that he disappeared.
For the past few years Tocera would sit on a swing set in the Higud Park on this day and just think of what if she hadn’t asked for the doll. Today she sat there and noticed a boy sitting there next to her on the other swing.
He said, “Hey. I’m Jake.”
“Hi, I’m Tocera.” She replied while looking away.
“Why aren’t you playing? People at this park are supposed to have fun, not mope.” He got up and started to push the swing that she was on. She tried to ignore him but he was really good at getting her mind off of things. He swung her higher and higher. She started laughing and looked back, but who she saw was her brother. She stopped the swing and looked again and saw only Jake. She remembered how her brother would push her on the swing. With that thought she turned around and started to walk away.
Jake ran up to her. “Hey. I’m sorry. Was it too high?”
She replied, “No, I just don’t want to swing today.” She knew she could have kept swinging and have fun but she wanted to go. She was excited to see her brother but don’t want to get her hopes up again.
She decided to leave and go home. Like a gentleman, Jake walked her there. He said, “You know. There’s supposed to be a big magical tree that only appears only when it rains. It’s only supposed to appear in these woods.”
“Really? Who found it?”
“I don’t know. The only people that know about it disappeared when they discovered it.”
“Then how do we know of it?”
“It’s just old stories. How should I know?”
- - - - - - - - - - - -
It’s her birthday and she didn’t get anything. Her mom didn’t work and often don’t earn much anyways. All she wanted was to see Malvery again.
Tocera didn’t want to be stuck at home while her mother cries about her lost son. Tocera decided to go to the park hoping to find Jake so they can play on the monkey bars or on the slide or something to get her mind off of things.
Tocera finally arrived and Jake wasn’t in sight. She had nothing better to do so, as she was walking home she took the path next to the woods. All of a sudden she saw Jake walking the opposite direction.
Excited she walked faster and as soon as they approached each other it started to rain softly. Tocera and Jake had nowhere to go so they ran under one of the nearby trees.
Her curiosity got to her and she asked, “So. Where exactly is that tree supposed to appear at?”
“I don’t really know. It’s supposed to be somewhere inside of this forest but no one knows for sure.”
“Well let’s find out if it’s true or not.” said Tocera.
They were walking and admiring the woods. There were so many flowers and plants that they have never seen before. Tocera was getting nervous because the rain went from a rain to it barley sprinkling.
Tocera decided to head back when all of a sudden they saw a huge tree. It was massive compared to the others. The only odd thing about the tree was the fact that it had a big hole in the middle of it.
“Wow! What kind of tree is that?” said Jake. “Let’s look inside of it.”
Tocera was amazed. The tree was in fact big but the inside of it was enormous. It looked like it was three times larger than the outside of it. They looked in and all they saw was water. Jake took a flashlight and turned it on.
“Wow! It looks so calm. I’ve never seen water so calm and peaceful. Let’s swim in it.”
“What if we can’t get out?” Tocera didn’t want to risk diving and drowning in the mysterious tree.
“I’ll get you out when you want to.” Jake said before jumping in.
Tocera decided to try it. She didn’t want to leave him in there and she didn’t see any harm. She jumped in.
The tree was in fact calm at the top but in the lower layers of the water were currents that were wild and rapid. The tree only appears when it rains because it absorbs lots of water. It disappears when it quits raining and reappears when it starts raining. When it disappears it doesn’t grow or change and nothing inside of it does change or age until it reappears.
Jake was strong enough to fight the currents but Tocera was wearing a dress and couldn’t reach the surface. She lies there at the bottom of the water while being pressed down by the currents. She looked around but didn’t see anything but the flashlight. The flashlight moved and she saw something familiar. It was Malvery. She reached and grabbed his hand. For once, she got what she wanted for her birthday.
He was running home while the sun was setting. All he could think of was that he had to get home as soon as possible, but there was only one thing that was in his way. Like most all the forests, it unexpectedly pours down rain. He could have stayed at the neighbor’s house, which is about an hour from his home, but he just had to get home. It was quickly becoming darker and he could barely see the trees ahead of him.
He came to a decision. To take the path or to cut through the woods. The only thing mysterious about it was that it had never been explored before and it was a part of the Meclera Woods, a deep forest that no one dares to explore.
Since the big move from Earth to Quhziy, a highly vegetated planet, people dared not to explore the woods for what may live in it. The Meclera Woods has the biggest and strangest trees and plants. Anyone who has explored it had never returned.
He looked at the path and thought it would be best to run straight though and he’ll be home in half the time. That was the last we have ever heard of Malvery again.
- - - - - - - - Six years later - - - - - - - -
Nothing much has changed for Tocera, a girl that’s 10 years old. Her birthday is coming up and she can’t help but to think that it’s her fault that her brother disappeared. Thinking back to when she was 5, when her brother was her hero. They would go and play in the yard, discover new creatures, he would walk her to school, and he was making her a tree house. He was everything to her.
She dreads this upcoming week. It’s going to be her birthday and she will be 11, but it will also be the 6th year that he had gone missing. All she can do is think that it’s all her fault.
It’s just another day playing on the playground to the other kids but to Tocera it was a day that she will always regret. Six years ago on that playground it was another day for Tocera. She would play on the playground with her brother about once a week. That very day
Malvery asked, “So sis. Do you have anything on your mind for your birthday?”
Tocera thought for a moment and replied, “Well, I have always wanted a doll. I see the other girls with dolls and how pretty they are. Big Bubby, can I have a doll for my birthday?”
Here in Qhuziy there are barely any toys. Mostly what people do is that they work from the age of 11 until they are unable to. The reason why they start working at a young age is because it’s a new planet and they need to have people working in the trees and make tree houses, or they work in the schools, or they work for other people to do their yards or clear out the woods for more land.
Malvery worked in the trees and got some money for his mother, his sister, and himself. He had a little money to spend and he wanted to get his sister something special. The night of his sister’s birthday was the night that their order came in and that was the same night that he disappeared.
For the past few years Tocera would sit on a swing set in the Higud Park on this day and just think of what if she hadn’t asked for the doll. Today she sat there and noticed a boy sitting there next to her on the other swing.
He said, “Hey. I’m Jake.”
“Hi, I’m Tocera.” She replied while looking away.
“Why aren’t you playing? People at this park are supposed to have fun, not mope.” He got up and started to push the swing that she was on. She tried to ignore him but he was really good at getting her mind off of things. He swung her higher and higher. She started laughing and looked back, but who she saw was her brother. She stopped the swing and looked again and saw only Jake. She remembered how her brother would push her on the swing. With that thought she turned around and started to walk away.
Jake ran up to her. “Hey. I’m sorry. Was it too high?”
She replied, “No, I just don’t want to swing today.” She knew she could have kept swinging and have fun but she wanted to go. She was excited to see her brother but don’t want to get her hopes up again.
She decided to leave and go home. Like a gentleman, Jake walked her there. He said, “You know. There’s supposed to be a big magical tree that only appears only when it rains. It’s only supposed to appear in these woods.”
“Really? Who found it?”
“I don’t know. The only people that know about it disappeared when they discovered it.”
“Then how do we know of it?”
“It’s just old stories. How should I know?”
- - - - - - - - - - - -
It’s her birthday and she didn’t get anything. Her mom didn’t work and often don’t earn much anyways. All she wanted was to see Malvery again.
Tocera didn’t want to be stuck at home while her mother cries about her lost son. Tocera decided to go to the park hoping to find Jake so they can play on the monkey bars or on the slide or something to get her mind off of things.
Tocera finally arrived and Jake wasn’t in sight. She had nothing better to do so, as she was walking home she took the path next to the woods. All of a sudden she saw Jake walking the opposite direction.
Excited she walked faster and as soon as they approached each other it started to rain softly. Tocera and Jake had nowhere to go so they ran under one of the nearby trees.
Her curiosity got to her and she asked, “So. Where exactly is that tree supposed to appear at?”
“I don’t really know. It’s supposed to be somewhere inside of this forest but no one knows for sure.”
“Well let’s find out if it’s true or not.” said Tocera.
They were walking and admiring the woods. There were so many flowers and plants that they have never seen before. Tocera was getting nervous because the rain went from a rain to it barley sprinkling.
Tocera decided to head back when all of a sudden they saw a huge tree. It was massive compared to the others. The only odd thing about the tree was the fact that it had a big hole in the middle of it.
“Wow! What kind of tree is that?” said Jake. “Let’s look inside of it.”
Tocera was amazed. The tree was in fact big but the inside of it was enormous. It looked like it was three times larger than the outside of it. They looked in and all they saw was water. Jake took a flashlight and turned it on.
“Wow! It looks so calm. I’ve never seen water so calm and peaceful. Let’s swim in it.”
“What if we can’t get out?” Tocera didn’t want to risk diving and drowning in the mysterious tree.
“I’ll get you out when you want to.” Jake said before jumping in.
Tocera decided to try it. She didn’t want to leave him in there and she didn’t see any harm. She jumped in.
The tree was in fact calm at the top but in the lower layers of the water were currents that were wild and rapid. The tree only appears when it rains because it absorbs lots of water. It disappears when it quits raining and reappears when it starts raining. When it disappears it doesn’t grow or change and nothing inside of it does change or age until it reappears.
Jake was strong enough to fight the currents but Tocera was wearing a dress and couldn’t reach the surface. She lies there at the bottom of the water while being pressed down by the currents. She looked around but didn’t see anything but the flashlight. The flashlight moved and she saw something familiar. It was Malvery. She reached and grabbed his hand. For once, she got what she wanted for her birthday.
The Eyes Under the Ice
Ring!
What on earth is that?
Ring!
Is that my phone?
Ring!
There’s no way someone is calling me at this hour.
Ring!
One more ring and whoever is calling will wish they had never been born.
Ring!
I slam my hand down on my phone and hit the Answer button. “What do you want?!”
“ Ms. Marxz, this is the Pentagon. We are sending a car to pick you up. Please pack all the possessions you need for an, eh hem, extended trip. Oh, and bring winter clothes. Lots of winter clothes.”
Click.
I had been replaying that scene in my head through the entire car ride over. Why would the Pentagon need a person like me? I was only a chemist, fresh out of college, with no connections to the government and nothing to really offer them. Schrödinger, my cat, had been awake for most of it – I personally believe just to freak out the officer sitting across from us in the limo- but was now comfortably curled up in my lap, sound asleep as I pet his smooth, hairless spine. I often did this when I was nervous, upset, or just pondering something intensely. In this case it was all three. Why does the Pentagon want me? Why did they send a limo over at three in the morning? I haven’t done anything wrong! These were some of the thoughts running tirelessly through my head since I had received the ominous phone call earlier. I tug at the hem of my long sleeved shirt, aware that even at this ungodly hour with the air conditioning blasting in the vehicle that the heat was piling up. Even this early in the morning, Mexico was hot. We pass Banco de México and I happen to see their sign advertising a temperature of 83˚ F. Why did they tell me to pack winter clothes?
I lean forward in my seat, slightly jostling Schrödinger, and ask, “Are we really going to drive from Tabasco to D.C.?” The officer laughs and shakes his head, “No ma’am. We are only driving to Jesús Terán Peredo International Airport. It’s roughly another twenty minutes away.” He chuckles again, but stops short when he notices that Schrödinger had left my lap to sit at his feet. The cat glared fiercely at him, causing me to giggle slightly. Truthfully, I had not even noticed Schrödinger had left my lap until I saw the officer’s line of sight as his laugh died off. Then again, I was used to not knowing of his absence. I often joked that he was so light with no fur to weigh him down that I could not be expected to notice his absence.
“Well,” I say, “if we are to be trapped in such close quarters for another twenty minutes, I would at least like to know your name.” I notice the officer give me a strange look and realize he might have taken it differently than how I meant it. “I mean so that we can have a casual conversation to pass the time.” Crap! That still sounded bad! Why can’t I just shut up? He looks at me strangely again and fiddles with his wedding band I didn’t notice until now. “My name is Officer Alex Carson ma’am” I try to smile innocently to convey that I’m only trying to be friendly as I extend my hand, “I’m Lillian Marxz. Nice to meet you Officer Carson.” However my hand just hangs in the air as Carson casually ignores it. Great. Now he’s going to think I’m trying to seduce him no matter what I say. I slowly lower my hand and fiddle with my sleeves again. I pat my leg to try to get Schrödinger in my lap so I have something to distract me. The cat gladly accepts the offer and curls right up, purring noisily as I stroke his spine. At least my cat loves me. That will just have to be enough.
“Eh hem,” I hear Carson clear his throat loudly and look up, hoping to see an apologetic look. Instead, I find he’s not even looking at me, but at the feline in my lap – or at least I hope that’s what he’s staring at. “Why did you bring that along? You know you can’t take it with you, right?”
“Actually,” I reply, glaring at him, “no, I did not know that I can’t take him with me because no one told me really anything about what this is for or what I can or cannot take, but even the Pentagon will be turned down if they tell me I can’t take my cat with me. Schrödinger has been with me since my parents died, and I won’t leave him now.” At that, Carson fell silent and looked away from the cat’s piercing red gaze that, at some point in the conversation, had fixated on him. I was too distracted to reprimand Schrödinger, as I normally would, because ever since I mentioned my parents, my mind had whirled right back into the past, into the world I knew fifteen years ago—when I was twelve years old.
҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉
“Race you home Lillian!” Tony Baldarren yelled as we hopped off the school bus.
It was the last week of seventh grade for me – eighth grade for Tony — and we had been waiting for it for what seemed like an eternity. As my feet hit the hot asphalt below me, I ran onto the grass of Mrs. Wilson’s yard in my race to catch up with Tony. Everyone in our neighborhood knew that Mrs. Wilson would track children down by the footprints left in her yard and kidnap them in the middle of the night. After that, the story split all different directions, so you really had to choose who you wanted to believe: some said she killed them and cut them into little pieces, others said she baked them into pies, still more said she tied them to a tree in the woods and covered them with meat to tempt the wild animals. I was so desperate to win the race that I didn’t even care. Behind me, I thought I heard the creak of Mrs. Wilson’s door open and picked up my speed. I overtook Tony in six strides, throwing my hair back into the wind and laughing. Then I realized that Tony was no longer behind me. I turned around to look for him and saw him staring straight at my house. I followed his gaze and saw flashing blue and red lights—the police. Last time the police had showed up at someone’s house, it was Margie’s and they had taken her papa away. I started running again, this time with the motivation of fear rather than winning. I heard Tony behind me running and calling my name, but I didn’t care. I had to find out what was going on. Tony caught up with me just as I reached the edge of my yard and grabbed my arm, but it was too late. One of the officers had spotted me and was walking towards us with a solemn expression on his face.
҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉
I jerked myself back into the present as I felt the car stop. I looked out the tinted windows to find the sky slowly growing lighter as the sun started its daily struggle to race the moon around the earth. Carson opened the car door and stepped out, turning to keep it open for me. I grabbed my backpack from the seat beside me and stepped out, followed closely by Schrödinger. As his feet hit the pavement, the feline’s ears went flat against his skull in an effort to block out the sound of airport life. I envied him for that as I felt the childish urge to cover my own ears, but I ignored it to grab my suitcase from Officer Carson as he pulled it out of the trunk. I was still upset at him for insulting my cat, so the less he did for me, the better. The roar of airplanes was almost drowned out by various languages being shouted around us. I could hear French, Spanish, English, and even a little bit of German being spoken in the atmosphere. Even standing outside the walls I could tell it was going to be packed in there. Schrödinger lashed his tail against my leg as if to urge me forward. “Trust me buddy, I want to get this over with too. Calm down or that tail won’t make it through security,” I grumbled down at him. In reply, all he did was scramble up my suitcase to lie down in the “shelf” created by the handle meeting the top of the bag, as if it was made to be a rolling bed. With a sigh I pulled the suitcase with its added weight towards the doors or the airport, with Carson in the lead looking like James Bond. His three-piece black suit stood out in dark contrast to the surrounding khaki shorts and Hawaiian shirt as he strut through the crowd, scanning for possible dangers beneath his sunglasses. For that matter, I’m sure my own insulated jeans and long sleeve red shirt was a bit of a spectacle for the spectators of Jesús Terán Peredo International Airport. Nevertheless, we made it to the security gate without too many serious glances pointed at us. Security was a different matter altogether.
“Yes, I realize we look like the biggest threat to security here, but Mr. Macho Man here will only tell you that this is a confidential field trip and we are dressed for the weather we are headed for. And yes, that is a cat, so charge me the fare for a cat and not a naked mole rat before I hop over this desk and rip your spicy little Mexican throat out in front of all your rent-a-cop airport security buddies.” I told Jorgé. Not the best thing to tell the person currently questioning whether or not you have a bomb hidden in your suitcase or on your person, but I’m tired and he wasn’t listening to me. In my defense, it’s now six o’ clock in the morning. Thanks to the lovely U. S. Government, I have been awake since three, packing everything I could think of in a bag, in my barely existent bursts of coherency that is. Jorgé cleared his throat, obviously about to argue with me and probably demand a strip search when Schrödinger hopped off my bag and onto the security counter. Staring in to the depths of the red-eyed, feline gaze somehow made the lovely man lose his nerve and he waved us over the metal detectors, stopping to grab a cat carrier on the way. I saw Carson give me a smile- yes, a genuine smile- and chuckle under his breath as we followed our guide out. I couldn’t help but be a little proud of myself at overpowering someone easily a half a foot taller than me. Being five feet five inches has the advantage, in my case anyway, of coming with a powerful and short temper that easily makes up for my lack of height. Tony always called me “ardiente pequeña” which meant small fiery one in Spanish. Thinking of Tony threw me right back into the whirlwind of my past as we turned out of security check and headed toward our gate
҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉
As the officer headed toward us, Tony’s hand slid down from my elbow to my hand and gripped it tight. He had known me all my life and sensed that I would need his support for whatever was coming next.
“Are you Lillian Marxz?” he inquired in quiet yet strong voice. I squeezed Tony’s hand, my throat tightening as I replied in a quavering voice, “Y-Yes.” He gave me a stare full of pity, “My name is Officer Maxwell. Why don’t you send your little friend home and come inside,” he said as more of a statement than a question, but I would not let go of Tony’s hand. I held my head high, growing more confident from the strength in Tony’s grip. “No sir. Tony has been my best friend since first grade. I’ve never sent him away before and I don’t intend to do it now.” The officer looked us up and down, his eyes coming to a stop where our hands were joined, let out a sigh, and motioned us inside.
҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉
I walked, almost in a daze, to Gate seventeen. When I came back to reality- with the assistance of a small child’s cry- I realized I was already sitting in the waiting area with a boarding pass secured tightly in my hand. Thinking through it, I remembered bits and pieces of the walk through the airport as the haze of my memories waxed and waned. I reached down to pet Schrödinger, only to meet the cushion of the seat beside me. Then I remembered putting my poor cat in that horrible carrier for him to be put on the plane with all sorts of strange beasts and the less strange household animals that would also be making the trip to the U.S.A. with us. He seemed calm and unworried though; so that thought helped me calm down from my near panic attack that I’m sure Carson would have scoffed at.
As if thinking of the plane trip made time speed up, the desk clerk came over the loudspeaker, “Gate 17 is now ready to load. Please allow all small children and first class passengers in first.” Carson stood up and started walking over to the line. Frowning, I looked down at my ticket to realize my suspicion was correct; we were riding first class. The U.S. government spares no expense when it comes to using the tax payer’s dollars on meaningless trips used for semi-unwilling participants in as yet unknown missions. Or experiments. Or interrogations. Dangit! Now I’m paranoid! My own mind was turning against me, throwing random fears at me as I stepped up behind Officer Carson. I brushed them off, somehow believing that Carson would magically develop psychic powers and would reprimand me for my mental ramblings. We filed through the line rather quickly, right behind a family of five, and handed the clerk our tickets. She glanced over our outfits, then shrugged her shoulders and let us through.
Once on the plane, I began to relax a little. Not that I could run away now even if I wanted to, but at least now the decision was made and what would happen was already set in motion to happen. I sat in seat 18 C, right by the window and glanced out to the runway stretch. I slung my backpack off my shoulders and opened the front compartment, taking out my MP3 player and started untangling my headphones.
“You’re not going to spend the entire flight interrogating me about what all this is about?” asked Carson as he shut the overhead compartment. He sat down next to me as I got the final knot out of my headphones. “No, I’m not. In case you haven’t noticed from my earlier outburst with Jorgé, I’m not exactly thrilled about losing sleep for the Pentagon. Therefore, I intend to brighten what’s left of my already long day with my favorite playlist on here, so if I start singing Mika really loudly, you’re going to have to grin and bear it or else bad things will happen,” I replied angrily, jamming my headphones into my ears and turning Lollipop on. Closing my eyes, I turned my music up as loud as it could go, causing the woman sitting in the seat in front of me to turn and glare at me, but I didn’t care. I was trying to drown out my memories, but the sensory deprivation bubble I was creating was only helping them. Slowly, the lyrics blended into the background, even though they were blasting directly into my eardrums, as Maxwell’s voice floated back to me from the past.
҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉
“Sweetie, do you know what happened here?” Officer Maxwell asked as we walked into what used to be referred to as my family’s living room. Now it looked more like a room that a demolition team had been set loose on. Cushions had been torn off the couch and shredded, leaving stuffing everywhere while the couch itself had been flipped over. The coffee table Mom had loved so much had been shattered, the glass kicked and thrown all over the room. Books had been unseated from their rightful places on the bookshelf, some of them with pages brutishly torn and tossed as if they were nothing more than confetti. Tony was whispering calming words to me, but I couldn’t hear them. I was too busy surveying the damage of my beautiful home. I could sense that it would only get worse from here so I turned my attention back to Maxwell. “No sir, I don’t know what happened. I’ve been at school all day. Officer, where are my parents?” I asked him as I noticed their absence. “Miss, we really don’t know. But the important thing is that there is no sign of a murder or anything other than vandalism. In fact, we would have never known if your cat hadn’t knocked the phone over. Did you know your parents had a new device installed that alerted the police if the phone was off the hook for more than an hour? It’s amazing what technology can do nowadays,” he exclaimed, I’m sure to distract me from the fact that my parents had left without a trace. From here, Tony took over the conversation, asking questions I would have never thought to ask but really needed the answers to. I barely listened, thinking over everything that was being said, and then something hit me. “What cat?” I asked, looking around the room, “We don’t have a cat. Mom’s allergic to fur…” the thought stuck in my throat as I saw what he was talking about. A hairless cat was perched on the end table, next to a lamp that had been knocked over. Its creepy red eyes were locked on me and I shuddered, but as I held its gaze my repulsion vanished. I felt a warm, safe feeling the more I held its gaze until he hoped down from the table and rubbed against my leg.
“Ma’am, are you saying that this is not your cat?” Maxwell grabbed my attention, and by the tone of his voice I could tell that if I answered honestly he would take the cat away, so I did what I had to. I lied to the police.
“Of course not officer. I apologize, but I always forget he’s actually a cat; I just consider him a member of the family,” I said coolly, reaching up to pick the cat up. I caught a glimpse of the gold band on the collar, which had the word SCHRÖDINGER’S engraved into it. Maxwell just nodded his head, probably passing it off as shock. He started walking away, but then stopped and turned back, “Do you have somewhere to stay Lillian?” he asked, turning back toward me. I started to say no, but was interrupted by Tony. “We were actually running over here to ask if she could stay the night with me. My little sister just had her first real break-up and asked me to see if Lillian could spend the night with her so that they could have some girl time,” he said smoothly. Maxwell and Tony both laughed at that. “Alright, but if your parents don’t appear within two weeks…”
҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉
Memories rushed through my mind of foster homes, adoptions that fell through, and oh so many court dates. Through all of it Tony was right by my side. By the time the landing gear came down, I was sifting through my most recent memory reel, pausing at the time two months ago when I got a call from him saying that we might never see each other again. No explanation, just said he had been handed an offer he couldn’t refuse and he was sorry but he could say no more. Since that day I had not had so much as a post card from my dearest and oldest friend. Thinking of Tony put me right back on the verge of tears, so I put a mental wall up around my past and turned my attention to the stewardess as she instructed us all on how to leave the plane in an orderly fashion. I unclipped my seatbelt, grabbed my backpack from under my seat, and filed out behind Carson as he walked off the plane with his own bag in his hand. I kept my headphones in my ears as we walked to the luggage carousel to grab my suitcase and cat. It didn’t take long and soon we were headed out to the car. D.C. passed by in a blur and soon enough I could see the shape of the famous Pentagon looming before us. Carson waved his I.D. at the gate keeper and we were in. I was led into a room that looked a lot like a very hi-tech version of my high school chemistry lab. In the center of the room was a fish tank with organisms I had never seen before or even knew exisisted. I walked over and saw that they were moving slowly, unlike most fish I had observed. There were some that were bright purple with spikes that looked like they could cut steel. Others had luminescent stripes that flashed as it swam. Some even looked like frogs that had been dipped in battery acid.
“That is why you are here, Ms. Marxz,” a voice behind me said. I turned to see an old, gray haired man in a white lab coat. “These are alien specimens from the moon Europa, and you will be on a team sent to go investigate life on its surface and below.”
In a state of shock, all I could ask was, “Why me?”
“Well Ms. Marxz, because your parents requested you specifically.”
“Sir, you have the wrong girl. My parents have been declared dead for years.”
The man shook his head, “No child, they are very much alive. They work for The Higud organization and have been sent on a mission off-planet. In fact, they are the ones who sent us these creatures.”
At those words, my entire being went cold and numb. I could not understand what he was saying anymore; it just didn’t make sense!
“When do we leave?” a voice to my left spoke. I turned to see who had spoken, but saw only Schrödinger sitting on the table. I wondered how he had gotten out of his cage, but question flew out of my mind as I saw his tiny little cat mouth open and heard him speak again, “I would love to meet the people who stuck me with this youth. I sometimes don’t understand how I managed to keep my cover and not speak up for my rights. Have you ever been forced to use a litter box?”
I couldn’t help it. I blacked out.
Θ Θ Θ Θ Θ
When I woke up, I was looking up at Schrödinger. “Come on, Human. We do not have all day,” he said in a bossy tone. If I hadn’t still been in shock at the fact that he could speak I would have swatted the little brat on the nose. As is, I just stood up and followed him out the swinging doors. Once again, I was in a daze and just did everything I was told blindly. As they rushed me into a rocket with other scientist and a team of astronauts - and of course Schrödinger- I realized that I was headed to a moon, and it wasn’t even the moon of my planet. I was also going to see my parents and aliens, neither of which I really knew anything about. And yet, the only thought that really stuck in my head was, why did I even answer the phone?
What on earth is that?
Ring!
Is that my phone?
Ring!
There’s no way someone is calling me at this hour.
Ring!
One more ring and whoever is calling will wish they had never been born.
Ring!
I slam my hand down on my phone and hit the Answer button. “What do you want?!”
“ Ms. Marxz, this is the Pentagon. We are sending a car to pick you up. Please pack all the possessions you need for an, eh hem, extended trip. Oh, and bring winter clothes. Lots of winter clothes.”
Click.
I had been replaying that scene in my head through the entire car ride over. Why would the Pentagon need a person like me? I was only a chemist, fresh out of college, with no connections to the government and nothing to really offer them. Schrödinger, my cat, had been awake for most of it – I personally believe just to freak out the officer sitting across from us in the limo- but was now comfortably curled up in my lap, sound asleep as I pet his smooth, hairless spine. I often did this when I was nervous, upset, or just pondering something intensely. In this case it was all three. Why does the Pentagon want me? Why did they send a limo over at three in the morning? I haven’t done anything wrong! These were some of the thoughts running tirelessly through my head since I had received the ominous phone call earlier. I tug at the hem of my long sleeved shirt, aware that even at this ungodly hour with the air conditioning blasting in the vehicle that the heat was piling up. Even this early in the morning, Mexico was hot. We pass Banco de México and I happen to see their sign advertising a temperature of 83˚ F. Why did they tell me to pack winter clothes?
I lean forward in my seat, slightly jostling Schrödinger, and ask, “Are we really going to drive from Tabasco to D.C.?” The officer laughs and shakes his head, “No ma’am. We are only driving to Jesús Terán Peredo International Airport. It’s roughly another twenty minutes away.” He chuckles again, but stops short when he notices that Schrödinger had left my lap to sit at his feet. The cat glared fiercely at him, causing me to giggle slightly. Truthfully, I had not even noticed Schrödinger had left my lap until I saw the officer’s line of sight as his laugh died off. Then again, I was used to not knowing of his absence. I often joked that he was so light with no fur to weigh him down that I could not be expected to notice his absence.
“Well,” I say, “if we are to be trapped in such close quarters for another twenty minutes, I would at least like to know your name.” I notice the officer give me a strange look and realize he might have taken it differently than how I meant it. “I mean so that we can have a casual conversation to pass the time.” Crap! That still sounded bad! Why can’t I just shut up? He looks at me strangely again and fiddles with his wedding band I didn’t notice until now. “My name is Officer Alex Carson ma’am” I try to smile innocently to convey that I’m only trying to be friendly as I extend my hand, “I’m Lillian Marxz. Nice to meet you Officer Carson.” However my hand just hangs in the air as Carson casually ignores it. Great. Now he’s going to think I’m trying to seduce him no matter what I say. I slowly lower my hand and fiddle with my sleeves again. I pat my leg to try to get Schrödinger in my lap so I have something to distract me. The cat gladly accepts the offer and curls right up, purring noisily as I stroke his spine. At least my cat loves me. That will just have to be enough.
“Eh hem,” I hear Carson clear his throat loudly and look up, hoping to see an apologetic look. Instead, I find he’s not even looking at me, but at the feline in my lap – or at least I hope that’s what he’s staring at. “Why did you bring that along? You know you can’t take it with you, right?”
“Actually,” I reply, glaring at him, “no, I did not know that I can’t take him with me because no one told me really anything about what this is for or what I can or cannot take, but even the Pentagon will be turned down if they tell me I can’t take my cat with me. Schrödinger has been with me since my parents died, and I won’t leave him now.” At that, Carson fell silent and looked away from the cat’s piercing red gaze that, at some point in the conversation, had fixated on him. I was too distracted to reprimand Schrödinger, as I normally would, because ever since I mentioned my parents, my mind had whirled right back into the past, into the world I knew fifteen years ago—when I was twelve years old.
҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉
“Race you home Lillian!” Tony Baldarren yelled as we hopped off the school bus.
It was the last week of seventh grade for me – eighth grade for Tony — and we had been waiting for it for what seemed like an eternity. As my feet hit the hot asphalt below me, I ran onto the grass of Mrs. Wilson’s yard in my race to catch up with Tony. Everyone in our neighborhood knew that Mrs. Wilson would track children down by the footprints left in her yard and kidnap them in the middle of the night. After that, the story split all different directions, so you really had to choose who you wanted to believe: some said she killed them and cut them into little pieces, others said she baked them into pies, still more said she tied them to a tree in the woods and covered them with meat to tempt the wild animals. I was so desperate to win the race that I didn’t even care. Behind me, I thought I heard the creak of Mrs. Wilson’s door open and picked up my speed. I overtook Tony in six strides, throwing my hair back into the wind and laughing. Then I realized that Tony was no longer behind me. I turned around to look for him and saw him staring straight at my house. I followed his gaze and saw flashing blue and red lights—the police. Last time the police had showed up at someone’s house, it was Margie’s and they had taken her papa away. I started running again, this time with the motivation of fear rather than winning. I heard Tony behind me running and calling my name, but I didn’t care. I had to find out what was going on. Tony caught up with me just as I reached the edge of my yard and grabbed my arm, but it was too late. One of the officers had spotted me and was walking towards us with a solemn expression on his face.
҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉
I jerked myself back into the present as I felt the car stop. I looked out the tinted windows to find the sky slowly growing lighter as the sun started its daily struggle to race the moon around the earth. Carson opened the car door and stepped out, turning to keep it open for me. I grabbed my backpack from the seat beside me and stepped out, followed closely by Schrödinger. As his feet hit the pavement, the feline’s ears went flat against his skull in an effort to block out the sound of airport life. I envied him for that as I felt the childish urge to cover my own ears, but I ignored it to grab my suitcase from Officer Carson as he pulled it out of the trunk. I was still upset at him for insulting my cat, so the less he did for me, the better. The roar of airplanes was almost drowned out by various languages being shouted around us. I could hear French, Spanish, English, and even a little bit of German being spoken in the atmosphere. Even standing outside the walls I could tell it was going to be packed in there. Schrödinger lashed his tail against my leg as if to urge me forward. “Trust me buddy, I want to get this over with too. Calm down or that tail won’t make it through security,” I grumbled down at him. In reply, all he did was scramble up my suitcase to lie down in the “shelf” created by the handle meeting the top of the bag, as if it was made to be a rolling bed. With a sigh I pulled the suitcase with its added weight towards the doors or the airport, with Carson in the lead looking like James Bond. His three-piece black suit stood out in dark contrast to the surrounding khaki shorts and Hawaiian shirt as he strut through the crowd, scanning for possible dangers beneath his sunglasses. For that matter, I’m sure my own insulated jeans and long sleeve red shirt was a bit of a spectacle for the spectators of Jesús Terán Peredo International Airport. Nevertheless, we made it to the security gate without too many serious glances pointed at us. Security was a different matter altogether.
“Yes, I realize we look like the biggest threat to security here, but Mr. Macho Man here will only tell you that this is a confidential field trip and we are dressed for the weather we are headed for. And yes, that is a cat, so charge me the fare for a cat and not a naked mole rat before I hop over this desk and rip your spicy little Mexican throat out in front of all your rent-a-cop airport security buddies.” I told Jorgé. Not the best thing to tell the person currently questioning whether or not you have a bomb hidden in your suitcase or on your person, but I’m tired and he wasn’t listening to me. In my defense, it’s now six o’ clock in the morning. Thanks to the lovely U. S. Government, I have been awake since three, packing everything I could think of in a bag, in my barely existent bursts of coherency that is. Jorgé cleared his throat, obviously about to argue with me and probably demand a strip search when Schrödinger hopped off my bag and onto the security counter. Staring in to the depths of the red-eyed, feline gaze somehow made the lovely man lose his nerve and he waved us over the metal detectors, stopping to grab a cat carrier on the way. I saw Carson give me a smile- yes, a genuine smile- and chuckle under his breath as we followed our guide out. I couldn’t help but be a little proud of myself at overpowering someone easily a half a foot taller than me. Being five feet five inches has the advantage, in my case anyway, of coming with a powerful and short temper that easily makes up for my lack of height. Tony always called me “ardiente pequeña” which meant small fiery one in Spanish. Thinking of Tony threw me right back into the whirlwind of my past as we turned out of security check and headed toward our gate
҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉
As the officer headed toward us, Tony’s hand slid down from my elbow to my hand and gripped it tight. He had known me all my life and sensed that I would need his support for whatever was coming next.
“Are you Lillian Marxz?” he inquired in quiet yet strong voice. I squeezed Tony’s hand, my throat tightening as I replied in a quavering voice, “Y-Yes.” He gave me a stare full of pity, “My name is Officer Maxwell. Why don’t you send your little friend home and come inside,” he said as more of a statement than a question, but I would not let go of Tony’s hand. I held my head high, growing more confident from the strength in Tony’s grip. “No sir. Tony has been my best friend since first grade. I’ve never sent him away before and I don’t intend to do it now.” The officer looked us up and down, his eyes coming to a stop where our hands were joined, let out a sigh, and motioned us inside.
҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉
I walked, almost in a daze, to Gate seventeen. When I came back to reality- with the assistance of a small child’s cry- I realized I was already sitting in the waiting area with a boarding pass secured tightly in my hand. Thinking through it, I remembered bits and pieces of the walk through the airport as the haze of my memories waxed and waned. I reached down to pet Schrödinger, only to meet the cushion of the seat beside me. Then I remembered putting my poor cat in that horrible carrier for him to be put on the plane with all sorts of strange beasts and the less strange household animals that would also be making the trip to the U.S.A. with us. He seemed calm and unworried though; so that thought helped me calm down from my near panic attack that I’m sure Carson would have scoffed at.
As if thinking of the plane trip made time speed up, the desk clerk came over the loudspeaker, “Gate 17 is now ready to load. Please allow all small children and first class passengers in first.” Carson stood up and started walking over to the line. Frowning, I looked down at my ticket to realize my suspicion was correct; we were riding first class. The U.S. government spares no expense when it comes to using the tax payer’s dollars on meaningless trips used for semi-unwilling participants in as yet unknown missions. Or experiments. Or interrogations. Dangit! Now I’m paranoid! My own mind was turning against me, throwing random fears at me as I stepped up behind Officer Carson. I brushed them off, somehow believing that Carson would magically develop psychic powers and would reprimand me for my mental ramblings. We filed through the line rather quickly, right behind a family of five, and handed the clerk our tickets. She glanced over our outfits, then shrugged her shoulders and let us through.
Once on the plane, I began to relax a little. Not that I could run away now even if I wanted to, but at least now the decision was made and what would happen was already set in motion to happen. I sat in seat 18 C, right by the window and glanced out to the runway stretch. I slung my backpack off my shoulders and opened the front compartment, taking out my MP3 player and started untangling my headphones.
“You’re not going to spend the entire flight interrogating me about what all this is about?” asked Carson as he shut the overhead compartment. He sat down next to me as I got the final knot out of my headphones. “No, I’m not. In case you haven’t noticed from my earlier outburst with Jorgé, I’m not exactly thrilled about losing sleep for the Pentagon. Therefore, I intend to brighten what’s left of my already long day with my favorite playlist on here, so if I start singing Mika really loudly, you’re going to have to grin and bear it or else bad things will happen,” I replied angrily, jamming my headphones into my ears and turning Lollipop on. Closing my eyes, I turned my music up as loud as it could go, causing the woman sitting in the seat in front of me to turn and glare at me, but I didn’t care. I was trying to drown out my memories, but the sensory deprivation bubble I was creating was only helping them. Slowly, the lyrics blended into the background, even though they were blasting directly into my eardrums, as Maxwell’s voice floated back to me from the past.
҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉
“Sweetie, do you know what happened here?” Officer Maxwell asked as we walked into what used to be referred to as my family’s living room. Now it looked more like a room that a demolition team had been set loose on. Cushions had been torn off the couch and shredded, leaving stuffing everywhere while the couch itself had been flipped over. The coffee table Mom had loved so much had been shattered, the glass kicked and thrown all over the room. Books had been unseated from their rightful places on the bookshelf, some of them with pages brutishly torn and tossed as if they were nothing more than confetti. Tony was whispering calming words to me, but I couldn’t hear them. I was too busy surveying the damage of my beautiful home. I could sense that it would only get worse from here so I turned my attention back to Maxwell. “No sir, I don’t know what happened. I’ve been at school all day. Officer, where are my parents?” I asked him as I noticed their absence. “Miss, we really don’t know. But the important thing is that there is no sign of a murder or anything other than vandalism. In fact, we would have never known if your cat hadn’t knocked the phone over. Did you know your parents had a new device installed that alerted the police if the phone was off the hook for more than an hour? It’s amazing what technology can do nowadays,” he exclaimed, I’m sure to distract me from the fact that my parents had left without a trace. From here, Tony took over the conversation, asking questions I would have never thought to ask but really needed the answers to. I barely listened, thinking over everything that was being said, and then something hit me. “What cat?” I asked, looking around the room, “We don’t have a cat. Mom’s allergic to fur…” the thought stuck in my throat as I saw what he was talking about. A hairless cat was perched on the end table, next to a lamp that had been knocked over. Its creepy red eyes were locked on me and I shuddered, but as I held its gaze my repulsion vanished. I felt a warm, safe feeling the more I held its gaze until he hoped down from the table and rubbed against my leg.
“Ma’am, are you saying that this is not your cat?” Maxwell grabbed my attention, and by the tone of his voice I could tell that if I answered honestly he would take the cat away, so I did what I had to. I lied to the police.
“Of course not officer. I apologize, but I always forget he’s actually a cat; I just consider him a member of the family,” I said coolly, reaching up to pick the cat up. I caught a glimpse of the gold band on the collar, which had the word SCHRÖDINGER’S engraved into it. Maxwell just nodded his head, probably passing it off as shock. He started walking away, but then stopped and turned back, “Do you have somewhere to stay Lillian?” he asked, turning back toward me. I started to say no, but was interrupted by Tony. “We were actually running over here to ask if she could stay the night with me. My little sister just had her first real break-up and asked me to see if Lillian could spend the night with her so that they could have some girl time,” he said smoothly. Maxwell and Tony both laughed at that. “Alright, but if your parents don’t appear within two weeks…”
҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉ ҉
Memories rushed through my mind of foster homes, adoptions that fell through, and oh so many court dates. Through all of it Tony was right by my side. By the time the landing gear came down, I was sifting through my most recent memory reel, pausing at the time two months ago when I got a call from him saying that we might never see each other again. No explanation, just said he had been handed an offer he couldn’t refuse and he was sorry but he could say no more. Since that day I had not had so much as a post card from my dearest and oldest friend. Thinking of Tony put me right back on the verge of tears, so I put a mental wall up around my past and turned my attention to the stewardess as she instructed us all on how to leave the plane in an orderly fashion. I unclipped my seatbelt, grabbed my backpack from under my seat, and filed out behind Carson as he walked off the plane with his own bag in his hand. I kept my headphones in my ears as we walked to the luggage carousel to grab my suitcase and cat. It didn’t take long and soon we were headed out to the car. D.C. passed by in a blur and soon enough I could see the shape of the famous Pentagon looming before us. Carson waved his I.D. at the gate keeper and we were in. I was led into a room that looked a lot like a very hi-tech version of my high school chemistry lab. In the center of the room was a fish tank with organisms I had never seen before or even knew exisisted. I walked over and saw that they were moving slowly, unlike most fish I had observed. There were some that were bright purple with spikes that looked like they could cut steel. Others had luminescent stripes that flashed as it swam. Some even looked like frogs that had been dipped in battery acid.
“That is why you are here, Ms. Marxz,” a voice behind me said. I turned to see an old, gray haired man in a white lab coat. “These are alien specimens from the moon Europa, and you will be on a team sent to go investigate life on its surface and below.”
In a state of shock, all I could ask was, “Why me?”
“Well Ms. Marxz, because your parents requested you specifically.”
“Sir, you have the wrong girl. My parents have been declared dead for years.”
The man shook his head, “No child, they are very much alive. They work for The Higud organization and have been sent on a mission off-planet. In fact, they are the ones who sent us these creatures.”
At those words, my entire being went cold and numb. I could not understand what he was saying anymore; it just didn’t make sense!
“When do we leave?” a voice to my left spoke. I turned to see who had spoken, but saw only Schrödinger sitting on the table. I wondered how he had gotten out of his cage, but question flew out of my mind as I saw his tiny little cat mouth open and heard him speak again, “I would love to meet the people who stuck me with this youth. I sometimes don’t understand how I managed to keep my cover and not speak up for my rights. Have you ever been forced to use a litter box?”
I couldn’t help it. I blacked out.
Θ Θ Θ Θ Θ
When I woke up, I was looking up at Schrödinger. “Come on, Human. We do not have all day,” he said in a bossy tone. If I hadn’t still been in shock at the fact that he could speak I would have swatted the little brat on the nose. As is, I just stood up and followed him out the swinging doors. Once again, I was in a daze and just did everything I was told blindly. As they rushed me into a rocket with other scientist and a team of astronauts - and of course Schrödinger- I realized that I was headed to a moon, and it wasn’t even the moon of my planet. I was also going to see my parents and aliens, neither of which I really knew anything about. And yet, the only thought that really stuck in my head was, why did I even answer the phone?
Model 33Alpha
“What a rude bucket of tin.”
“That’s illogical.”
“Oh really then, how so Missy?
“Firstly, it’s not composed of tin; it has aluminum alloys and bits of copper.”
“Ha ha, still very rude.”
“Secondly, it’s not in his programming to be as you put it ‘rude’.”
Christie is my friend, in a manner of sorts. Our parent’s initiated our contact whilst we furthered it for mutual benefits. We can chat and flutter with one another, and commence in the sharing of personally owned items. But our tongues do not lessen among one another; that is saved for when we were alone and engaged with some kind of fermented drink. We hold each other up, but we do not open up. We are alone with one another as we are in a crowd of strangers.
“Model 33Alpha is new, granted, but my programs are not faulty to such a marginal degree.”
“It’s just a bit of tempter, not a catastrophic malfunction, Missy.”
“It could be, if it has an error with my simple personality schematics than what if…”
“Oh it’s just a household P.U.”
“Exactly- meaning it’s around children and the elderly mostly according to our statistics.”
“Then scrap it.”
My life’s work; soon to be a simple scrapped project, her answer is correct, if it’s showing signs of malfunction, I should just scrap it and try again. I should take out the central processing chip, excavate around the receptors of the personality and behavioral programming. I should report this to the Higud and start from scratch, deleting my programming completely. But it was just a little flip, a teensy hiccup on the long road of robotics.
I precisely put Model 33Alpha’s personality and behavioral responses and recognitions to submissive and even slightly affectionate. It’s to greet people sweetly and soothe their hearts. It’s to comfort the sickly, and gently guide the young. How could it be rude? My reaction to a small comment regarding the exact program I’m in direct charge of… I should silently regard her, Christie, and ponder her recognition regarding…rudeness. Perhaps it’s all her, not Model 33Alpha.
“Thinking hard or hardly thinking?”
“I’m analyzing what is a proper response.”
“Shutting that…thing down would be a start.”
“I understand you believe it’s rude, but what remark did it press to make you feel it was rude.”
“Still not willing to admit a mistake on your part Missy?”
“Please answer my question and not deflect it.”
“Here I am, your best-friend for over twenty years, and you want to blame me?”
I had not noticed Rick in my house. He’s peculiar to say the least, regarding me with disdain and yet sweetly too. He thinks of me just as another robotic operative, and yet he offers me sweet eyes with softness almost tangible. In a flash I can see the scorn for my career choice, but a love for my advancement. I’m lowly in his view, but I am making my way up. He’s told me so at least, in honesty I could have been lied to and really there is no real softness in him, just coldness much like unused machinery.
“Perhaps she just doesn’t want to scrap him?”
“It’s Model 33Alpha, it has no gender.”
“Think of him like a car, men name their cars, they name ships and lands.”
“Model 33Alpha is a highly functioning series seven socially adapted robot.”
“A rant, really chica? I was only saying you could regard it as a gender designated piece- like everyone has done for some inanimate object.”
“It’s not really inanimate; it will be able to…”
“Just try it- him.”
“I will not be so lowly.
Model 33Alpha is more than some toy as Christie and Rick think. Alpha will be the future of robotics and androids everywhere- my future. Once free of most bugs, it will be taken, torn apart and copied.
“Chica, try it- stop being so…well.”
“Model 33Alpha has no designated gender.”
“Model 33whatever can be whatever gender.”
“It’s beyond gender.”
“Try it, what’s it going to hurt, the robot?”
Alpha has remained quiet through the conversation thus far. Sitting with its bare metal frame back to the wall and whirling its lilac colored eyes around as if processing the situation as uneventful. I’d already taken to regarding the seemingly perfect model as Alpha, what harm could it really cause to regard it also as a gender?
“It’s childish.”
“And the argument you’ve been having isn’t?”
“I…”
“Say it…him.”
“Well…uh.”
“Go on, he called Christie a cow.”
“He did what?”
“There ya go.”
I let myself fall into the welcoming softness the cushions that my only couch had to offer. Model 33Alpha had gone beyond simple dissatisfactory actions or unknowing insulting. It had outright insulted a person, going against most if not all of my programming. The room is too white, bare of all traces of visual comfort or attraction. Christie stood as a contrast with bright bleeding red to the too white walls around her. She always was the contrast to me, in both personality and coloring. Her eyes held deep amusement and her mouth twisted in a smug grin. I was wrong, I made a mistake in both correcting her, and in my work.
“Oh Chica it’s okay, a little technical difficulty.”
“Yeah Missy, just a little mistake, we all make mistakes. Remember when you…”
“Yes Christie, mistakes, let poor Chica be.”
“Hm, seems to me you are feeling some pity.”
“Aw, I’m just worried you’ll damage her with cold words, like she must have with her cold heart to the poor dear in the corner. How are you sir, having a good charge?”
Their laughs filtered through my ears, filling me with the feeling of inadequacy and the creeping bitterness I was so long used to experiencing. Alpha sat unmoving against the wall, the bleeping light on its chest giving off the only trace of motion from him. How I longed to just be alone with it, to commence my inquisition and ponder on why it had done such a thing. Unlike Alpha I held my tongue from slandering them. I could though, call them on their mistakes and instigate more. I don’t, or at least I won’t prod them like adding wood to the fire.
“Anyways Missy I came here for a reason.”
“You didn’t come over to be called a cow?”
“Oh Rick, you dreadful tease, no the Higud is having a gala in two weeks, and you’ve been invited due to your extensive contributions to the field of blah, blah, blah. Boring, all that’s important is that you’ve been invited!”
“You’ll need to leave the lab coat at home.”
“She’ll need to do more than leave her coat.”
“If Chica does too much they won’t know it’s her.”
Rick batted his hands around Christie, as if their comments were really that bad. The Higud always held a gala, the time of year changes but one is always held. The gala is the place to really break out, to get your work recognized and respected. It is there Alpha would make its appearance- by me.
“It’s too bad though, that your little computer is all faulty, nothing to show now.”
“Model 33Alpha isn’t faulty; there is a problem with its responses- it will take me less time to fix that than it takes for you to fix your hair.”
“I do care for my hair.”
“And I care about my work.”
I pulled out a sketchpad, it is filled with rough drafts of previous models and their schematics, and this is the foundation of the new model- the history of Alpha.
“Am I so easily ignored Chica?”
“Oh Missy is just obsessed, always has been.”
“It’s her obsession that has led her to this position.”
“What are you talking about Rick?”
“I’m just thinking out loud.”
“Please leave now, I have to do work.”
I raised myself from the bland colored couch, keeping my eyes on the sketch of Model 27Keel as I did so. Keel was the closest to having perfectly controlled responses that remained human-like. Keel was designed with a pattern in its responses by recognizing tone differences with trigger words to spark the programmed personality with an adaptive chip to calculate the proper response according to the environment and the pattern. In theory it was unquestionably logical, but like most theories it wasn’t practical in real life.
“Let’s go Ricky, I feel like eating civilian food tonight.”
“Then you’ll be dining without me.”
“Snazzy-pants, you need to try it, it’s not all fabricated starch and synthetic meat. I enjoy civilian food occasionally, gives me a taste of what to be thankful for, right Missy?”
“I’m sure, please go without me.”
“But…”
“I have to discuss work with our Missy. Have the driver chaperone you, it’s not proper or safe anymore for anyone to be out alone.”
“Alright Ricky, don’t stay too late or get too bored now.”
As the door clicked the niceties left his face, the honey coating scrapped clean off leaving behind the coldness I came so used to, it was almost as common as the bitterness. He came to evaluate my work.
“It’s protective of you Fauntso.”
“I thought you said it was rude.”
“Model 33Alpha showed signs of protective instincts concerning you. Christie had been mouthing about everything and not so much as a whir came from its mechanics. But she says one bad statement about you and it jumps into action by putting her down as she had been you.”
My eyes locked with his improved eyes, a flaw that the higher ups all succumbed to because of their increasing greed for being better at any cost, even their body.
“Tell me, why this prototype bucket of scraps is showing personality behavior you were not to design- you are not a child, or elderly, or even its creator. You are a simple programmer, and not its only one.”
“There must be a fault in the programming.”
“Fix it then, fix the fault and fix yourself.”
“Myself sir?”
“Yes I expect pristine results, understand?”
“Of course, if I may ask why you are not calling Alpha a designated gender?”
“Do not be stupid, it was for show.”
“Yes sir.”
“Do not become attached to it, it’s just another robot like the countless others before it. After it works, it will be shown around and valued only until a better one comes along, than its nothing but scraps and an empty shell for history class.”
Rick left me alone after his grandeur of an exit, he is a self-centered megalomaniac but he is also correct. There is nothing to become attached about with it, with the robot. Model 33Alpha is just another amongst the masses, even if this is the robot of the future. I could laugh at myself, how many other robots have been called the robots of the future? Each robot is in a manner of speaking the future of robotics, each one with new upgrades and features- but it all comes back to the same thing. An endless circle of trying to outdo the last one, trying to make it better, trying to better the world and the knowledge of electronics and just how far is truly too far.
The house is silent, if one can even call this monument of solitude a house of any kind. Alpha sits in the corner, with its sensors protruding in the shape of eyes, offering it full vision with no blind spot. Its skin even has a heat detector to help it respond to the environment and to interact with people who may be coming close- to further the recognition of humans. All there is in this house is Alpha and me, and a half ton of flow-charts scattered around me like mounds of snow.
“What is wrong with you?”
My eyes lay locked on Alpha’s form, frozen with shades of ice blue and dusky pink, it resembled a mix of metallic cotton candy, a treat I had never been able to experience myself but only hear from old mounds of civilian gossip. Perhaps it was truly the civilians who had the better things in life, they had the freedom to be just that- utterly free without any social graces of infinite detail that made the monarchy idea’s head spin.
“I could try the old fashioned microcontroller on you, and just spend the rest of my life trying to create enough programs to make you seem like it’s your own decision to respond in the appropriate way and not that you would be following every tiny command without so much as a spark of artificial growth.”
Alpha’s image detectors just stared out, reflecting their own light to bounce off the blanch wall and illuminate its own androgynous form.
“Well, I could you know.”
Nothing moved, the room reflected to me the image of a lonely pale colored women talking to a walking computer.
“Why is it you won’t talk to me, you refuse to respond to me but you will go against your very programming to assault one of the very people who fund this- fund me, they fund us!”
I shed my white coat off of myself, spreading my arms from side to ceiling in hope of stretching some of the kinks out from this day, half hoping and half subjecting myself to reality. My simple ecru eyes throbbed with pulsing of the pain thrumming through me.
“Am I that bad of a programmer, should I offer you more to eat or more time to sleep perchance?”
I smirked at my own joke, so alike in the very one Rick and Christie had been sharing, the very thought of sharing something close to a personality trait with them sickened me. Both born to a life of good standing, I myself reared in similar circumstances- our parents sharing in work function. They chose professions of higher standing, Rick and Christie did. Rick was offered to head my branch of the Higud, and Christie chose a lesser position in public view but a much higher one in private. I had no vaults of money to care for my programs, or even to obtain the pieces needed to create my own Model and install what I viewed as monumental of a personality or of free-ranged of responses, offering it the choice of decision and of true and absolute growth. No, I am tied to a branch of the Higud, and the Higud is a wise and noble choice indeed. All I had to do was sell my very soul to obtain the proper research materials to create experimental programs and even work on a robot.
“You are my life, do you know that? I have given up the chance of ever having cotton candy, or enjoying those spherical translucent orbs of swirling colors. I gave up common happiness and simple pleasures to have this.”
Still the eye-like receptors of lilac color stared straight in the unblinking way that made it all the more clear how mechanical it truly is. Every shine of its frame reflected the new technology available, for lighter and yet unyielding to force, metal. Thin tubing, almost invisible, and the bits of connectors and circuits run through it like ivy on a brick house, a scene I had only experienced through visa-screen.
“It’s wrong to hope, but I do, I hope that you will be the one to break the mold.”
All I heard in return to my admission was the common whir of its gears and the vibration of its lights. And still I strained my ear in hopes of it proved everyone wrong about its abilities, proved us all wrong about its destiny. For once I wanted to be proven wrong, and I wanted it with every ounce of my mind and body- perhaps even my heart.
~*********************************************************************~
I spent my time the next few days trying to configure a source of jumbled code that was in the very middle of all the programs, not just mine. It was an assortment coding that hadn’t been in use for decades but here it was, alive and well it seemed, trying to wreck havoc on my life and on the years of other work programmers had put into this. It isn’t clear to me, the source of this repetitive outdated bug, but it is only a matter of time until I have it out coded and simply outdone.
“Missy, you are going to send for some clothes for the gala right?"
“I planned on wearing my red Sarong with a headdress.”
“Or you can send for one of those cute new Gaia-doll gowns, they are to die for.”
“I could just go in my actual clothing too.”
“So blasé honey, you might as well go in your Sunday best then.”
“Am I expected to know what that means?”
“Oh it’s a phrase that even civilians don’t really use anymore.”
“Then why are you?”
“I find it clever, it was before the Higud.”
“How does it make it clever?”
“Oh Missy, my dear sweet little friend you- you just don’t understand.”
How am I to understand a phrase that isn’t in use anymore, most especially if it was before the Higud? The Higud has been around since the War of the Flowers, it has been around since the great plague of Larissa and the horde of revolts that bombarded the field of robotics. The Higud came about to end confrontation over morals and selfish beliefs that detained the growth of humanity as a whole. A price was paid, no a price is being paid with every breath took and every eyelash batted, the price is being paid behind the screen- behind the brilliantly red curtains. A choice is offered, and sometimes you don’t even know you're being asked- civilian or citizen?
“You should go with a blue dress; it would look perfect on you.”
“You should wear the red dress; it brings out your vindictiveness.”
“How sweet darling, but the blue would match your robot!”
“I repeat red would help accent your snide quirks of corrupt disdain.”
“Well we need to hurry and order, your pin is the same as always right?”
I lifted my gaze from my visa-screen and directed my glare at the vivid pink wall beside Christie. Today is an off duty job, I am to check the electrical output and input of the houses of the Care-Takers from the Higud- in laden terms I check the volts from the big people. It is not a pleasant job, but it is something I have to do if I want to stay in their good graces and keep my nice cushy funding.
“You need to get some work done on your hair, maybe some violet enhancers.”
“Why would I want violet reflecting hair?”
“To go with your blue dress and lavender sparklers.”
“Sparklers, did you just say sparklers?”
“You need some pizzazz in your presence, most importantly if you will be courting that nice strong man of yours around.”
“I swear if you are talking about…”
“Oh come on, I have seen how he looks at you, it just so sweet, Alfie.”
I saw it coming, I really did- but it didn’t stop the frustration I felt when she said that. I brought Model 33Alpha along with me for further human interaction while I worked on the modules and read the meters. It reacted well to the social experiment, and it was a good move on my part- expanding the outside connections and recognition. I put my programs to the test and they did not fail me. The jumbled code is still there amongst the various pieces of work, but it seemed to have no effect in its reactions or interaction. Was it just a flux in the behavior, or did the pieces of old codes have something to do with Alpha’s outburst?
“Serious now, how are you going to do your appearance?”
“I figured I would do what I always do when I want to dress up.”
“Putting your hair in that mechanical fashion flop is not proper for a gala.”
“Oh is it not now, then perhaps I am not proper for a gala.”
“Well that is what I said but they didn’t listen to me, hm.”
I can just feel the artificial love and bond between us at the moment.
“How are you dressing your toy?”
“I am not dressing Model 33Alpha.”
“Then how is Ricky dressing the very pretty Model of tin?”
“Rick is not disturbing Model 33Alpha either.”
“Then who is putting clothes on the poor boy?”
“It is already fixed with a mechanical shell around its internal structure of…”
“So you are just going to let him walk around naked now are you?”
“It is not naked; it’s a machine- nothing more Christie.”
“Show some compassion Missy, why are you being so very rude?”
My shoulders stretched out, pulling the muscles in a tight spring of pressure and tension, every inch of elongating it seemed the buildup of strain and anxiety was tugging it out like taffy; twisting it and ripping pieces off after being warmed up and stretched, again and again.
“Christie I am going to fix Alpha with an outside shell of synthetic skin made from a mixture of silicone and latex and actual skin grafts.”
Her bright amethyst eyes were wide in shock and what almost looked like absolute horror, is the idea really that obscene to think about let alone do?
“You are going to make it a skin suit?”
“In such terms, yes I am.”
“You are only programmer Missy that is strictly forbidden.”
“Well perhaps it was your talk of proper attire that really inspired me.”
“Cease any further actions Mishca, you are becoming derailed.”
“Am I becoming derailed or is it the rules are just too tight?”
“The rules are for our protection, for us to feel safe and live in a world that follows certain procedures for the better of the whole population and not just that of one individual. I play my part well, you should do the same.”
Christie fixed me with her enhanced eyes and I saw the connection in her colorful view as I saw in that of Alpha; they were both enhanced artificially to be better than their predecessors. Alpha is to outdo the previous Models, and Christie is trying to outdo the wives around her. She was right though, much like Rick; both play the part of a light hearted Care-taker, when in reality they are just as wound up and ready to spring as the Elders of them. The Higud has certain rules yes, and the rules are there to protect us from the mistakes of the past. I understand why they are there, and I understand why they are so heavily enforced- but I don’t understand how they could be so hypocritical.
“Now darling lets plot out your face for the grand night.”
“Or we could discuss why it’s wrong for me to create a…”
“Hush, I demand it now Mishca, if not as your friend than as your superior.”
“Of course Christie, please continue with your mindless drivel.”
“How about we cut loose those curling locks of alabaster and get some flirt?”
“What is flirt?”
“Its flipsy, you know snazzy and fun- with enough pizzazz to make people think better of your teensy little ideas.”
With her face back on and her similar lilac whirling eyes she returned to her previous actions, as if recoiling from a defensive fire wall and retreating back into her programming of air-neurons and puff thoughts. All the while Alpha stood beside me, as silent as he always was when left with me, it seemed the programming gave it enough freewill to decide to not respond or initiate contact with Christie. If it was human, then I could understand, but even with a bit of freewill given, the programming still specified with some form of contact to be made and for recognition and give a response to some of her comments. Its slot of a mouth remained still and its light violet eyes that so matched Christie’s remained still and unmoving. Its eyes held almost a gleam to them, as if it was reflecting the conversation that was being had and was soaking it in. I put down my reading gear and stepped closer to Alpha, Christie was caught up in her visa-screen and paid us no mind, spinning off tales of giant puffs of skirts with dripping pearls and rushing colors that I felt as if any conversation I held with a non-responsive Model would be unerringly missed.
“Alpha is something wrong with this environment?”
Its eyes flashed once, recognizing my voice so deeply programmed into it.
“I asked you a question Model 33Alpha.”
“Is this model to understand you are awaiting a response?”
“It would seem to be so.”
“This model is afraid it does not have anything to report.”
“Well, how about…how sweet Christie has been to us thus far?”
“This Christie is still continuing to converse with you.”
“She won’t mind me spending some time away.”
“Enough data has been collected on her to know otherwise.”
“Then you know just about the same as everyone else.”
“Are you insisting that this model is simply common?”
“Touchy, I was only saying it was common knowledge, her personality that is.”
“Then why did you proceed to initiate a conversation about pleasantries with her.”
“It is an old rustic civilian thing called sarcasm.”
“This personality trait is in many people around us, not civilians.”
“They like to attach it to civilians, to make it seem lowly and them better.”
“You do not refer to yourself amongst them.”
“Do you see any one of them running around reading meters?”
Its eyes shined with the almost commonly seen purple of the higher ups, of the enhancers in the citizens more recent generations. Each generation picks a trait to better upon, to create a better source of genes for the next generation and so on and so forth, etcetera- go forth and prosper why don’t they just? I had Alpha stumped and for that I felt a sense of pride, I had confused a walking computer, which I had programmed and thus I had confused my own work- not something to be so very proud of.
“Christie we must depart now, I have some more programs to test and other lies.”
Christie remained still caught up in her own words that I could practically see them floating around her, but I knew she hadn’t turned on that particular app, she only did so when she wanted to see her own words while trying to edit a speech for trying to buff the Elders of the Care-Takers. I pushed past the electromagnetic door she had programmed to open and close at intervals to create a sense of eerie awe so visitors would believe her ghost stories. The program was simple enough, just a loop or a set timer depending on her mood and her sense of wickedness.
Alpha stood beside me as we passed the white gates and left the field of the Higher houses and entered the realm of the Bees. There is a hierarchy in the living arrangements, a hierarchy in the lab at work, and there is a hierarchy all over the country. It’s as plain to see as the enhancements that seem to be filtering around, spilling the streets with black-market deals and under the table procedures. The world is a scary place when the chance to be better is available but not granted to all, the land of the free or the land of the selfish, take your pick for what you want to call it.
~*********************************************************************~
“When are you going to show up Missy- being fashionably late is one thing but…”
“I am almost there; I just had to send back the delivery screen.”
“Why would you do that, here I am trying to be helpful and you cancel it?”
“I am not wearing a flame for a gown.”
“They are only sparklers.”
“They are packed with enough chemicals that it makes the Higud’s labs blush.”
“Picking up some civilian I see.”
“It’s a tad hard not to when you keep slandering it around in my environment.”
I turned the com off my glasses and looked myself over in the visa-screen; my spiraled hair was up in twisted knot of platinum locks and mother of pearl ribbons, the dress I had decided on is rustic civilian undoubtedly what with being backless and featureless. I would be the plainest person there, but Alpha would be the star anyways.
“Are you ready to engage in a real function of human interaction?”
“Do I have much of a choice?
“Well then, give you a nice change of clothes and you refer to yourself as I.”
“Is that wrong?”
“No, but it will be improper.”
“Noted and shall be used for further behavior.”
My programs were still working regardless of the mass of jumbled pieces floating around inside it. I would be having a nice word or two with the previous programmers in this matter, one of them has to be the culprit for the sticky code.
“Mishca, this Model has a request for further evaluation.”
“Model 33Alpha the programs you have running are of the best work possible.”
“There is an error in the coding for the amount of visual granted.”
“I didn’t work on your visuals.”
“Already known, that is why this robot would like further evaluation.”
“Your programs are fine Alpha, just because I didn’t create them does not…”
“Your programming is the fewest fault lined coding that this robot has had.”
“That is almost…sweet Alpha, but I will not stall any longer.”
I used my visa-screen com to send for transportation, the screen is slick with electrically sweat and the imprint of nervous rubbing, leaving almost transparent indents on both the com button and the very back of the sheet of pure charged ions. The very buzz of the screen is seductive, calling me to devote my attention to its thrill of clicks and to its hum of love. The hum of love that filled me since I was younger, the very hum that made sense of my life and guided me to this moment now.
The Byke arrived in only a few seconds after I had com-called it, in a flash of swimming pink with shots of unearthly yellow it came to the front of the apartment and opened its very doors to me and Alpha. Another piece of machinery with intricate programs similar to that of If-Then-Else style of coding, the Byke sent me a buzz to my com on my visa-screen to alert me of its presence.
“Are you ready Alpha?”
“Is it not more concerning if you are ready, since this robot is programmed.”
“You could still be downloading your programming.”
“Mishca you install and code this model directly without a second appliance.”
“Just because the program is being put on the drive directly does not mean that it is uploaded and ready to run.”
“It is time to go programmer.”
“Off to be further evaluated.”
“That is why this model asked for earlier.”
~*********************************************************************~
The puffs of skirts with wire detailing littered the electrical black running floor, liters of fragrant drink must had been bought for everyone’s breath smelled of perfume and their body also seemed to reek of a similar scent but with individualization of enhancements for some and for others simple sprays or human responses.
“What a charming young man that is.”
“A sight for coloring eyes, a programmer with a higher up!”
The voices spread around like a virus in a closed population, seeping around until it affected everyone with no immunity available in any form of salvation. The painted lips and the crafted ones as well all enunciating similar words and phrases.
“Alfie, refer to yourself in first person.”
“Are you speaking to this model?”
“Follow instruction and proceed with your previous programming.”
“As you wish, I shall engage in your orders.”
The floor swallowed the words around us as the night went on, filled with more and more talk about the new toy to arrive and the abstruse enhancer amongst them that was claimed by all to be a distant connection to the top of the Elders or a member of the Delphic group.
“Am I such a conundrum to them?”
“You are a question but one they are willing to answer themselves.”
“Incorrectly answering the question of what I am.”
“Could be you are only hearing those due to your limited audio receivers.”
“My audio receivers are not limited; it is my visual intake that is reduced.”
“Which is not my job to fix, I am only for behavior.”
“My behavior is dependent upon my intake of my environment.”
“Your point is made and noted but thusly being ignored.”
“Obviously, but may this Model make another inquisition?”
“Only if you use first person Alfie will I answer you.”
“I shall then, why am I not allowed a form of epidermis such as you?”
“You are not human.”
“Being human is what determines one having a protective covering?”
“You have a protective covering aside from the skin and silicone grafts.”
Alpha’s eyes swirled around in what could be described as crisp agitation, I did not feel like being blatant about the situation for the sole reason of not being knowledgeable myself over the question. The question was one that had troubled me since the beginning of my obsession, but one I had pushed aside like a piece of scrap memory and fleeting curiosities like utter trash and at the same time pure euphoria.
“Do you even know Mishca?”
“It’s custom to call me Missy.”
“Should I be taking notes as well then?”
“I do not know.”
“Do not know if I should be taking notes or about the protective covering?”
“Dance with me Alfie.”
My vision pivoted with intricate stars of white and prisms of pink and purple- coating my eyes with pseudo crystals and crushed garnets from the sun. The strong mechanism of an arm was wrapped firmly around my silver circled waist, holding me in a grip that rivaled that of the pull of the Earth itself. My eyes slowed to a still and focused on the image of a noble man in front of me, close enough to hear the whirs and taste the tang of metal floating in the air. Alpha stood at a height of two hundred centimeters without the added bit from the dress shoes I had to send out for through my visa-screen, he loomed above me by at least forty centimeters and was wide enough to wrap around me and hide my growing anxiety from any view.
“May I inquire again something my programmer?”
“You already are but if you must, please ask me what it is that’s plaguing you.”
“Why is it I am not the only one without a heart beat in this room?”
I couldn’t spare a breath to the room let alone take one for myself.
“I will answer if you answer me something then Alpha.”
“What would that be then?”
“Why did you insult Christie when it came to me?”
“I do not know. I felt as if it was programmed into me.”
“I did not program you, code you, or anything as such.”
“Someone did.”
“Tell me who.”
“Tell me why I sense no heart beat from many members in here.”
“I can’t talk about it alright!”
“And the sentiment is returned.”
My jaw tensed, straining against the pressure of both the tissue about to tear from me crunching my mouth closed and from the frustration with the robot. It is not programmed by anyone but the best, those approved by the Elders and watched over by the Care-takers. Who could have messed with its codes enough so that I couldn’t even decipher what was being commanded to happen; I could not figure out what Alpha was programmed to do, and that was what frightened me the most.
“Mishca I…”
“Well look here, Missy brought a little friend along.”
“…”
“Ah cat gotcha tongue sweetie? What a catch, he’s silent and handsome.”
The tension in my jaw did not lessen but my projection of it did.
“Hello Christie, how are you this lovely evening?”
“Why I am just fine, but you seem to be busy perhaps we can talk later honey.”
“That is unnecessary but acceptable if you wish.”
“I just have one teensy question, where is the bucket of tin?”
“It is being run under diagnostics before being registered here.”
In this world of High ends, everyone has two faces; one face is for the public, a face to show that they are humorous and nothing like the oppressive Elders without a word truly said regarding it. The other face is the one that shows when the rules have been pushed; the face is the reincarnation of support for the choices made long ago in times of troubled need and hatred harbored deeply. Purple swirling eyes turned to me from all corners of the glittery floor and starry ceiling, all enhanced to be perfect so they could all share the same look of questioning loftiness.
“We already know Mishca. It is truly incredible what you have done.”
The smooth purr of Rick’s voice infiltrated my ears and drove into my brain, pounding on the back of my eyes and spurring my head to lower in apprehension.
“You have created a near perfect personality; it is so very real- isn’t it?”
“What can I say; I have a lot of free time.”
“But you don’t do you, you are required to spend your whole life spent working for us, doing the programming for this Model- well it made your existence worth it did it not? All those hours groveling around at the meters, or picking at the visa-screens and preening your little P.U. pets for show, all for Alpha.”
“I…”
“I told you to not to get attached, and Christiana told you no to the skin grafting.”
“Why.”
“Simply because you were told not to.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You pressed with your little heart to your full capabilities, beat yourself up over a little mishap and still went around us.”
“Why is it so wrong, what is in his programming!”
“It’s he now is it; you really did get attached to a bucket of metal Chica. The only thing that is in there that was not programmed into him by one of you robo-lovers is what is always there.”
“And what is that then?”
The purple filled me; my eyes, my thoughts, even my throat, the purple kept filling me until I was gasping to escape the metallic whirring of them and the obsession it seemed to be clinging to my life.
“Why the very same thing we all share Missy.”
“Christie’s right Chica, we all share what is in the programming in him.”
“I always knew that filling your head with all those numbers would lose you.”
“She’s not lost, just confused Christie, Missy is just confused about it all.”
“Then tell me you air filled neuron High-ends, inform me of my mistake.”
I stood my ground in the pale shimmering gown, trails of silver and liquid diamonds surrounded me in a blanket of protection as that of my very skin.
“Temper, temper Missy.”
“I think it’s time for Chica to be dismissed.”
With those final words a sense of masochistic joy over-filled me, similar that of the purple of every one of the eyes around me. It was over, my work was finished and that was all that really mattered. I finished the perfect model of humanity in a robot. Now it was my turn to be dismantled and reprogrammed.
“That’s illogical.”
“Oh really then, how so Missy?
“Firstly, it’s not composed of tin; it has aluminum alloys and bits of copper.”
“Ha ha, still very rude.”
“Secondly, it’s not in his programming to be as you put it ‘rude’.”
Christie is my friend, in a manner of sorts. Our parent’s initiated our contact whilst we furthered it for mutual benefits. We can chat and flutter with one another, and commence in the sharing of personally owned items. But our tongues do not lessen among one another; that is saved for when we were alone and engaged with some kind of fermented drink. We hold each other up, but we do not open up. We are alone with one another as we are in a crowd of strangers.
“Model 33Alpha is new, granted, but my programs are not faulty to such a marginal degree.”
“It’s just a bit of tempter, not a catastrophic malfunction, Missy.”
“It could be, if it has an error with my simple personality schematics than what if…”
“Oh it’s just a household P.U.”
“Exactly- meaning it’s around children and the elderly mostly according to our statistics.”
“Then scrap it.”
My life’s work; soon to be a simple scrapped project, her answer is correct, if it’s showing signs of malfunction, I should just scrap it and try again. I should take out the central processing chip, excavate around the receptors of the personality and behavioral programming. I should report this to the Higud and start from scratch, deleting my programming completely. But it was just a little flip, a teensy hiccup on the long road of robotics.
I precisely put Model 33Alpha’s personality and behavioral responses and recognitions to submissive and even slightly affectionate. It’s to greet people sweetly and soothe their hearts. It’s to comfort the sickly, and gently guide the young. How could it be rude? My reaction to a small comment regarding the exact program I’m in direct charge of… I should silently regard her, Christie, and ponder her recognition regarding…rudeness. Perhaps it’s all her, not Model 33Alpha.
“Thinking hard or hardly thinking?”
“I’m analyzing what is a proper response.”
“Shutting that…thing down would be a start.”
“I understand you believe it’s rude, but what remark did it press to make you feel it was rude.”
“Still not willing to admit a mistake on your part Missy?”
“Please answer my question and not deflect it.”
“Here I am, your best-friend for over twenty years, and you want to blame me?”
I had not noticed Rick in my house. He’s peculiar to say the least, regarding me with disdain and yet sweetly too. He thinks of me just as another robotic operative, and yet he offers me sweet eyes with softness almost tangible. In a flash I can see the scorn for my career choice, but a love for my advancement. I’m lowly in his view, but I am making my way up. He’s told me so at least, in honesty I could have been lied to and really there is no real softness in him, just coldness much like unused machinery.
“Perhaps she just doesn’t want to scrap him?”
“It’s Model 33Alpha, it has no gender.”
“Think of him like a car, men name their cars, they name ships and lands.”
“Model 33Alpha is a highly functioning series seven socially adapted robot.”
“A rant, really chica? I was only saying you could regard it as a gender designated piece- like everyone has done for some inanimate object.”
“It’s not really inanimate; it will be able to…”
“Just try it- him.”
“I will not be so lowly.
Model 33Alpha is more than some toy as Christie and Rick think. Alpha will be the future of robotics and androids everywhere- my future. Once free of most bugs, it will be taken, torn apart and copied.
“Chica, try it- stop being so…well.”
“Model 33Alpha has no designated gender.”
“Model 33whatever can be whatever gender.”
“It’s beyond gender.”
“Try it, what’s it going to hurt, the robot?”
Alpha has remained quiet through the conversation thus far. Sitting with its bare metal frame back to the wall and whirling its lilac colored eyes around as if processing the situation as uneventful. I’d already taken to regarding the seemingly perfect model as Alpha, what harm could it really cause to regard it also as a gender?
“It’s childish.”
“And the argument you’ve been having isn’t?”
“I…”
“Say it…him.”
“Well…uh.”
“Go on, he called Christie a cow.”
“He did what?”
“There ya go.”
I let myself fall into the welcoming softness the cushions that my only couch had to offer. Model 33Alpha had gone beyond simple dissatisfactory actions or unknowing insulting. It had outright insulted a person, going against most if not all of my programming. The room is too white, bare of all traces of visual comfort or attraction. Christie stood as a contrast with bright bleeding red to the too white walls around her. She always was the contrast to me, in both personality and coloring. Her eyes held deep amusement and her mouth twisted in a smug grin. I was wrong, I made a mistake in both correcting her, and in my work.
“Oh Chica it’s okay, a little technical difficulty.”
“Yeah Missy, just a little mistake, we all make mistakes. Remember when you…”
“Yes Christie, mistakes, let poor Chica be.”
“Hm, seems to me you are feeling some pity.”
“Aw, I’m just worried you’ll damage her with cold words, like she must have with her cold heart to the poor dear in the corner. How are you sir, having a good charge?”
Their laughs filtered through my ears, filling me with the feeling of inadequacy and the creeping bitterness I was so long used to experiencing. Alpha sat unmoving against the wall, the bleeping light on its chest giving off the only trace of motion from him. How I longed to just be alone with it, to commence my inquisition and ponder on why it had done such a thing. Unlike Alpha I held my tongue from slandering them. I could though, call them on their mistakes and instigate more. I don’t, or at least I won’t prod them like adding wood to the fire.
“Anyways Missy I came here for a reason.”
“You didn’t come over to be called a cow?”
“Oh Rick, you dreadful tease, no the Higud is having a gala in two weeks, and you’ve been invited due to your extensive contributions to the field of blah, blah, blah. Boring, all that’s important is that you’ve been invited!”
“You’ll need to leave the lab coat at home.”
“She’ll need to do more than leave her coat.”
“If Chica does too much they won’t know it’s her.”
Rick batted his hands around Christie, as if their comments were really that bad. The Higud always held a gala, the time of year changes but one is always held. The gala is the place to really break out, to get your work recognized and respected. It is there Alpha would make its appearance- by me.
“It’s too bad though, that your little computer is all faulty, nothing to show now.”
“Model 33Alpha isn’t faulty; there is a problem with its responses- it will take me less time to fix that than it takes for you to fix your hair.”
“I do care for my hair.”
“And I care about my work.”
I pulled out a sketchpad, it is filled with rough drafts of previous models and their schematics, and this is the foundation of the new model- the history of Alpha.
“Am I so easily ignored Chica?”
“Oh Missy is just obsessed, always has been.”
“It’s her obsession that has led her to this position.”
“What are you talking about Rick?”
“I’m just thinking out loud.”
“Please leave now, I have to do work.”
I raised myself from the bland colored couch, keeping my eyes on the sketch of Model 27Keel as I did so. Keel was the closest to having perfectly controlled responses that remained human-like. Keel was designed with a pattern in its responses by recognizing tone differences with trigger words to spark the programmed personality with an adaptive chip to calculate the proper response according to the environment and the pattern. In theory it was unquestionably logical, but like most theories it wasn’t practical in real life.
“Let’s go Ricky, I feel like eating civilian food tonight.”
“Then you’ll be dining without me.”
“Snazzy-pants, you need to try it, it’s not all fabricated starch and synthetic meat. I enjoy civilian food occasionally, gives me a taste of what to be thankful for, right Missy?”
“I’m sure, please go without me.”
“But…”
“I have to discuss work with our Missy. Have the driver chaperone you, it’s not proper or safe anymore for anyone to be out alone.”
“Alright Ricky, don’t stay too late or get too bored now.”
As the door clicked the niceties left his face, the honey coating scrapped clean off leaving behind the coldness I came so used to, it was almost as common as the bitterness. He came to evaluate my work.
“It’s protective of you Fauntso.”
“I thought you said it was rude.”
“Model 33Alpha showed signs of protective instincts concerning you. Christie had been mouthing about everything and not so much as a whir came from its mechanics. But she says one bad statement about you and it jumps into action by putting her down as she had been you.”
My eyes locked with his improved eyes, a flaw that the higher ups all succumbed to because of their increasing greed for being better at any cost, even their body.
“Tell me, why this prototype bucket of scraps is showing personality behavior you were not to design- you are not a child, or elderly, or even its creator. You are a simple programmer, and not its only one.”
“There must be a fault in the programming.”
“Fix it then, fix the fault and fix yourself.”
“Myself sir?”
“Yes I expect pristine results, understand?”
“Of course, if I may ask why you are not calling Alpha a designated gender?”
“Do not be stupid, it was for show.”
“Yes sir.”
“Do not become attached to it, it’s just another robot like the countless others before it. After it works, it will be shown around and valued only until a better one comes along, than its nothing but scraps and an empty shell for history class.”
Rick left me alone after his grandeur of an exit, he is a self-centered megalomaniac but he is also correct. There is nothing to become attached about with it, with the robot. Model 33Alpha is just another amongst the masses, even if this is the robot of the future. I could laugh at myself, how many other robots have been called the robots of the future? Each robot is in a manner of speaking the future of robotics, each one with new upgrades and features- but it all comes back to the same thing. An endless circle of trying to outdo the last one, trying to make it better, trying to better the world and the knowledge of electronics and just how far is truly too far.
The house is silent, if one can even call this monument of solitude a house of any kind. Alpha sits in the corner, with its sensors protruding in the shape of eyes, offering it full vision with no blind spot. Its skin even has a heat detector to help it respond to the environment and to interact with people who may be coming close- to further the recognition of humans. All there is in this house is Alpha and me, and a half ton of flow-charts scattered around me like mounds of snow.
“What is wrong with you?”
My eyes lay locked on Alpha’s form, frozen with shades of ice blue and dusky pink, it resembled a mix of metallic cotton candy, a treat I had never been able to experience myself but only hear from old mounds of civilian gossip. Perhaps it was truly the civilians who had the better things in life, they had the freedom to be just that- utterly free without any social graces of infinite detail that made the monarchy idea’s head spin.
“I could try the old fashioned microcontroller on you, and just spend the rest of my life trying to create enough programs to make you seem like it’s your own decision to respond in the appropriate way and not that you would be following every tiny command without so much as a spark of artificial growth.”
Alpha’s image detectors just stared out, reflecting their own light to bounce off the blanch wall and illuminate its own androgynous form.
“Well, I could you know.”
Nothing moved, the room reflected to me the image of a lonely pale colored women talking to a walking computer.
“Why is it you won’t talk to me, you refuse to respond to me but you will go against your very programming to assault one of the very people who fund this- fund me, they fund us!”
I shed my white coat off of myself, spreading my arms from side to ceiling in hope of stretching some of the kinks out from this day, half hoping and half subjecting myself to reality. My simple ecru eyes throbbed with pulsing of the pain thrumming through me.
“Am I that bad of a programmer, should I offer you more to eat or more time to sleep perchance?”
I smirked at my own joke, so alike in the very one Rick and Christie had been sharing, the very thought of sharing something close to a personality trait with them sickened me. Both born to a life of good standing, I myself reared in similar circumstances- our parents sharing in work function. They chose professions of higher standing, Rick and Christie did. Rick was offered to head my branch of the Higud, and Christie chose a lesser position in public view but a much higher one in private. I had no vaults of money to care for my programs, or even to obtain the pieces needed to create my own Model and install what I viewed as monumental of a personality or of free-ranged of responses, offering it the choice of decision and of true and absolute growth. No, I am tied to a branch of the Higud, and the Higud is a wise and noble choice indeed. All I had to do was sell my very soul to obtain the proper research materials to create experimental programs and even work on a robot.
“You are my life, do you know that? I have given up the chance of ever having cotton candy, or enjoying those spherical translucent orbs of swirling colors. I gave up common happiness and simple pleasures to have this.”
Still the eye-like receptors of lilac color stared straight in the unblinking way that made it all the more clear how mechanical it truly is. Every shine of its frame reflected the new technology available, for lighter and yet unyielding to force, metal. Thin tubing, almost invisible, and the bits of connectors and circuits run through it like ivy on a brick house, a scene I had only experienced through visa-screen.
“It’s wrong to hope, but I do, I hope that you will be the one to break the mold.”
All I heard in return to my admission was the common whir of its gears and the vibration of its lights. And still I strained my ear in hopes of it proved everyone wrong about its abilities, proved us all wrong about its destiny. For once I wanted to be proven wrong, and I wanted it with every ounce of my mind and body- perhaps even my heart.
~*********************************************************************~
I spent my time the next few days trying to configure a source of jumbled code that was in the very middle of all the programs, not just mine. It was an assortment coding that hadn’t been in use for decades but here it was, alive and well it seemed, trying to wreck havoc on my life and on the years of other work programmers had put into this. It isn’t clear to me, the source of this repetitive outdated bug, but it is only a matter of time until I have it out coded and simply outdone.
“Missy, you are going to send for some clothes for the gala right?"
“I planned on wearing my red Sarong with a headdress.”
“Or you can send for one of those cute new Gaia-doll gowns, they are to die for.”
“I could just go in my actual clothing too.”
“So blasé honey, you might as well go in your Sunday best then.”
“Am I expected to know what that means?”
“Oh it’s a phrase that even civilians don’t really use anymore.”
“Then why are you?”
“I find it clever, it was before the Higud.”
“How does it make it clever?”
“Oh Missy, my dear sweet little friend you- you just don’t understand.”
How am I to understand a phrase that isn’t in use anymore, most especially if it was before the Higud? The Higud has been around since the War of the Flowers, it has been around since the great plague of Larissa and the horde of revolts that bombarded the field of robotics. The Higud came about to end confrontation over morals and selfish beliefs that detained the growth of humanity as a whole. A price was paid, no a price is being paid with every breath took and every eyelash batted, the price is being paid behind the screen- behind the brilliantly red curtains. A choice is offered, and sometimes you don’t even know you're being asked- civilian or citizen?
“You should go with a blue dress; it would look perfect on you.”
“You should wear the red dress; it brings out your vindictiveness.”
“How sweet darling, but the blue would match your robot!”
“I repeat red would help accent your snide quirks of corrupt disdain.”
“Well we need to hurry and order, your pin is the same as always right?”
I lifted my gaze from my visa-screen and directed my glare at the vivid pink wall beside Christie. Today is an off duty job, I am to check the electrical output and input of the houses of the Care-Takers from the Higud- in laden terms I check the volts from the big people. It is not a pleasant job, but it is something I have to do if I want to stay in their good graces and keep my nice cushy funding.
“You need to get some work done on your hair, maybe some violet enhancers.”
“Why would I want violet reflecting hair?”
“To go with your blue dress and lavender sparklers.”
“Sparklers, did you just say sparklers?”
“You need some pizzazz in your presence, most importantly if you will be courting that nice strong man of yours around.”
“I swear if you are talking about…”
“Oh come on, I have seen how he looks at you, it just so sweet, Alfie.”
I saw it coming, I really did- but it didn’t stop the frustration I felt when she said that. I brought Model 33Alpha along with me for further human interaction while I worked on the modules and read the meters. It reacted well to the social experiment, and it was a good move on my part- expanding the outside connections and recognition. I put my programs to the test and they did not fail me. The jumbled code is still there amongst the various pieces of work, but it seemed to have no effect in its reactions or interaction. Was it just a flux in the behavior, or did the pieces of old codes have something to do with Alpha’s outburst?
“Serious now, how are you going to do your appearance?”
“I figured I would do what I always do when I want to dress up.”
“Putting your hair in that mechanical fashion flop is not proper for a gala.”
“Oh is it not now, then perhaps I am not proper for a gala.”
“Well that is what I said but they didn’t listen to me, hm.”
I can just feel the artificial love and bond between us at the moment.
“How are you dressing your toy?”
“I am not dressing Model 33Alpha.”
“Then how is Ricky dressing the very pretty Model of tin?”
“Rick is not disturbing Model 33Alpha either.”
“Then who is putting clothes on the poor boy?”
“It is already fixed with a mechanical shell around its internal structure of…”
“So you are just going to let him walk around naked now are you?”
“It is not naked; it’s a machine- nothing more Christie.”
“Show some compassion Missy, why are you being so very rude?”
My shoulders stretched out, pulling the muscles in a tight spring of pressure and tension, every inch of elongating it seemed the buildup of strain and anxiety was tugging it out like taffy; twisting it and ripping pieces off after being warmed up and stretched, again and again.
“Christie I am going to fix Alpha with an outside shell of synthetic skin made from a mixture of silicone and latex and actual skin grafts.”
Her bright amethyst eyes were wide in shock and what almost looked like absolute horror, is the idea really that obscene to think about let alone do?
“You are going to make it a skin suit?”
“In such terms, yes I am.”
“You are only programmer Missy that is strictly forbidden.”
“Well perhaps it was your talk of proper attire that really inspired me.”
“Cease any further actions Mishca, you are becoming derailed.”
“Am I becoming derailed or is it the rules are just too tight?”
“The rules are for our protection, for us to feel safe and live in a world that follows certain procedures for the better of the whole population and not just that of one individual. I play my part well, you should do the same.”
Christie fixed me with her enhanced eyes and I saw the connection in her colorful view as I saw in that of Alpha; they were both enhanced artificially to be better than their predecessors. Alpha is to outdo the previous Models, and Christie is trying to outdo the wives around her. She was right though, much like Rick; both play the part of a light hearted Care-taker, when in reality they are just as wound up and ready to spring as the Elders of them. The Higud has certain rules yes, and the rules are there to protect us from the mistakes of the past. I understand why they are there, and I understand why they are so heavily enforced- but I don’t understand how they could be so hypocritical.
“Now darling lets plot out your face for the grand night.”
“Or we could discuss why it’s wrong for me to create a…”
“Hush, I demand it now Mishca, if not as your friend than as your superior.”
“Of course Christie, please continue with your mindless drivel.”
“How about we cut loose those curling locks of alabaster and get some flirt?”
“What is flirt?”
“Its flipsy, you know snazzy and fun- with enough pizzazz to make people think better of your teensy little ideas.”
With her face back on and her similar lilac whirling eyes she returned to her previous actions, as if recoiling from a defensive fire wall and retreating back into her programming of air-neurons and puff thoughts. All the while Alpha stood beside me, as silent as he always was when left with me, it seemed the programming gave it enough freewill to decide to not respond or initiate contact with Christie. If it was human, then I could understand, but even with a bit of freewill given, the programming still specified with some form of contact to be made and for recognition and give a response to some of her comments. Its slot of a mouth remained still and its light violet eyes that so matched Christie’s remained still and unmoving. Its eyes held almost a gleam to them, as if it was reflecting the conversation that was being had and was soaking it in. I put down my reading gear and stepped closer to Alpha, Christie was caught up in her visa-screen and paid us no mind, spinning off tales of giant puffs of skirts with dripping pearls and rushing colors that I felt as if any conversation I held with a non-responsive Model would be unerringly missed.
“Alpha is something wrong with this environment?”
Its eyes flashed once, recognizing my voice so deeply programmed into it.
“I asked you a question Model 33Alpha.”
“Is this model to understand you are awaiting a response?”
“It would seem to be so.”
“This model is afraid it does not have anything to report.”
“Well, how about…how sweet Christie has been to us thus far?”
“This Christie is still continuing to converse with you.”
“She won’t mind me spending some time away.”
“Enough data has been collected on her to know otherwise.”
“Then you know just about the same as everyone else.”
“Are you insisting that this model is simply common?”
“Touchy, I was only saying it was common knowledge, her personality that is.”
“Then why did you proceed to initiate a conversation about pleasantries with her.”
“It is an old rustic civilian thing called sarcasm.”
“This personality trait is in many people around us, not civilians.”
“They like to attach it to civilians, to make it seem lowly and them better.”
“You do not refer to yourself amongst them.”
“Do you see any one of them running around reading meters?”
Its eyes shined with the almost commonly seen purple of the higher ups, of the enhancers in the citizens more recent generations. Each generation picks a trait to better upon, to create a better source of genes for the next generation and so on and so forth, etcetera- go forth and prosper why don’t they just? I had Alpha stumped and for that I felt a sense of pride, I had confused a walking computer, which I had programmed and thus I had confused my own work- not something to be so very proud of.
“Christie we must depart now, I have some more programs to test and other lies.”
Christie remained still caught up in her own words that I could practically see them floating around her, but I knew she hadn’t turned on that particular app, she only did so when she wanted to see her own words while trying to edit a speech for trying to buff the Elders of the Care-Takers. I pushed past the electromagnetic door she had programmed to open and close at intervals to create a sense of eerie awe so visitors would believe her ghost stories. The program was simple enough, just a loop or a set timer depending on her mood and her sense of wickedness.
Alpha stood beside me as we passed the white gates and left the field of the Higher houses and entered the realm of the Bees. There is a hierarchy in the living arrangements, a hierarchy in the lab at work, and there is a hierarchy all over the country. It’s as plain to see as the enhancements that seem to be filtering around, spilling the streets with black-market deals and under the table procedures. The world is a scary place when the chance to be better is available but not granted to all, the land of the free or the land of the selfish, take your pick for what you want to call it.
~*********************************************************************~
“When are you going to show up Missy- being fashionably late is one thing but…”
“I am almost there; I just had to send back the delivery screen.”
“Why would you do that, here I am trying to be helpful and you cancel it?”
“I am not wearing a flame for a gown.”
“They are only sparklers.”
“They are packed with enough chemicals that it makes the Higud’s labs blush.”
“Picking up some civilian I see.”
“It’s a tad hard not to when you keep slandering it around in my environment.”
I turned the com off my glasses and looked myself over in the visa-screen; my spiraled hair was up in twisted knot of platinum locks and mother of pearl ribbons, the dress I had decided on is rustic civilian undoubtedly what with being backless and featureless. I would be the plainest person there, but Alpha would be the star anyways.
“Are you ready to engage in a real function of human interaction?”
“Do I have much of a choice?
“Well then, give you a nice change of clothes and you refer to yourself as I.”
“Is that wrong?”
“No, but it will be improper.”
“Noted and shall be used for further behavior.”
My programs were still working regardless of the mass of jumbled pieces floating around inside it. I would be having a nice word or two with the previous programmers in this matter, one of them has to be the culprit for the sticky code.
“Mishca, this Model has a request for further evaluation.”
“Model 33Alpha the programs you have running are of the best work possible.”
“There is an error in the coding for the amount of visual granted.”
“I didn’t work on your visuals.”
“Already known, that is why this robot would like further evaluation.”
“Your programs are fine Alpha, just because I didn’t create them does not…”
“Your programming is the fewest fault lined coding that this robot has had.”
“That is almost…sweet Alpha, but I will not stall any longer.”
I used my visa-screen com to send for transportation, the screen is slick with electrically sweat and the imprint of nervous rubbing, leaving almost transparent indents on both the com button and the very back of the sheet of pure charged ions. The very buzz of the screen is seductive, calling me to devote my attention to its thrill of clicks and to its hum of love. The hum of love that filled me since I was younger, the very hum that made sense of my life and guided me to this moment now.
The Byke arrived in only a few seconds after I had com-called it, in a flash of swimming pink with shots of unearthly yellow it came to the front of the apartment and opened its very doors to me and Alpha. Another piece of machinery with intricate programs similar to that of If-Then-Else style of coding, the Byke sent me a buzz to my com on my visa-screen to alert me of its presence.
“Are you ready Alpha?”
“Is it not more concerning if you are ready, since this robot is programmed.”
“You could still be downloading your programming.”
“Mishca you install and code this model directly without a second appliance.”
“Just because the program is being put on the drive directly does not mean that it is uploaded and ready to run.”
“It is time to go programmer.”
“Off to be further evaluated.”
“That is why this model asked for earlier.”
~*********************************************************************~
The puffs of skirts with wire detailing littered the electrical black running floor, liters of fragrant drink must had been bought for everyone’s breath smelled of perfume and their body also seemed to reek of a similar scent but with individualization of enhancements for some and for others simple sprays or human responses.
“What a charming young man that is.”
“A sight for coloring eyes, a programmer with a higher up!”
The voices spread around like a virus in a closed population, seeping around until it affected everyone with no immunity available in any form of salvation. The painted lips and the crafted ones as well all enunciating similar words and phrases.
“Alfie, refer to yourself in first person.”
“Are you speaking to this model?”
“Follow instruction and proceed with your previous programming.”
“As you wish, I shall engage in your orders.”
The floor swallowed the words around us as the night went on, filled with more and more talk about the new toy to arrive and the abstruse enhancer amongst them that was claimed by all to be a distant connection to the top of the Elders or a member of the Delphic group.
“Am I such a conundrum to them?”
“You are a question but one they are willing to answer themselves.”
“Incorrectly answering the question of what I am.”
“Could be you are only hearing those due to your limited audio receivers.”
“My audio receivers are not limited; it is my visual intake that is reduced.”
“Which is not my job to fix, I am only for behavior.”
“My behavior is dependent upon my intake of my environment.”
“Your point is made and noted but thusly being ignored.”
“Obviously, but may this Model make another inquisition?”
“Only if you use first person Alfie will I answer you.”
“I shall then, why am I not allowed a form of epidermis such as you?”
“You are not human.”
“Being human is what determines one having a protective covering?”
“You have a protective covering aside from the skin and silicone grafts.”
Alpha’s eyes swirled around in what could be described as crisp agitation, I did not feel like being blatant about the situation for the sole reason of not being knowledgeable myself over the question. The question was one that had troubled me since the beginning of my obsession, but one I had pushed aside like a piece of scrap memory and fleeting curiosities like utter trash and at the same time pure euphoria.
“Do you even know Mishca?”
“It’s custom to call me Missy.”
“Should I be taking notes as well then?”
“I do not know.”
“Do not know if I should be taking notes or about the protective covering?”
“Dance with me Alfie.”
My vision pivoted with intricate stars of white and prisms of pink and purple- coating my eyes with pseudo crystals and crushed garnets from the sun. The strong mechanism of an arm was wrapped firmly around my silver circled waist, holding me in a grip that rivaled that of the pull of the Earth itself. My eyes slowed to a still and focused on the image of a noble man in front of me, close enough to hear the whirs and taste the tang of metal floating in the air. Alpha stood at a height of two hundred centimeters without the added bit from the dress shoes I had to send out for through my visa-screen, he loomed above me by at least forty centimeters and was wide enough to wrap around me and hide my growing anxiety from any view.
“May I inquire again something my programmer?”
“You already are but if you must, please ask me what it is that’s plaguing you.”
“Why is it I am not the only one without a heart beat in this room?”
I couldn’t spare a breath to the room let alone take one for myself.
“I will answer if you answer me something then Alpha.”
“What would that be then?”
“Why did you insult Christie when it came to me?”
“I do not know. I felt as if it was programmed into me.”
“I did not program you, code you, or anything as such.”
“Someone did.”
“Tell me who.”
“Tell me why I sense no heart beat from many members in here.”
“I can’t talk about it alright!”
“And the sentiment is returned.”
My jaw tensed, straining against the pressure of both the tissue about to tear from me crunching my mouth closed and from the frustration with the robot. It is not programmed by anyone but the best, those approved by the Elders and watched over by the Care-takers. Who could have messed with its codes enough so that I couldn’t even decipher what was being commanded to happen; I could not figure out what Alpha was programmed to do, and that was what frightened me the most.
“Mishca I…”
“Well look here, Missy brought a little friend along.”
“…”
“Ah cat gotcha tongue sweetie? What a catch, he’s silent and handsome.”
The tension in my jaw did not lessen but my projection of it did.
“Hello Christie, how are you this lovely evening?”
“Why I am just fine, but you seem to be busy perhaps we can talk later honey.”
“That is unnecessary but acceptable if you wish.”
“I just have one teensy question, where is the bucket of tin?”
“It is being run under diagnostics before being registered here.”
In this world of High ends, everyone has two faces; one face is for the public, a face to show that they are humorous and nothing like the oppressive Elders without a word truly said regarding it. The other face is the one that shows when the rules have been pushed; the face is the reincarnation of support for the choices made long ago in times of troubled need and hatred harbored deeply. Purple swirling eyes turned to me from all corners of the glittery floor and starry ceiling, all enhanced to be perfect so they could all share the same look of questioning loftiness.
“We already know Mishca. It is truly incredible what you have done.”
The smooth purr of Rick’s voice infiltrated my ears and drove into my brain, pounding on the back of my eyes and spurring my head to lower in apprehension.
“You have created a near perfect personality; it is so very real- isn’t it?”
“What can I say; I have a lot of free time.”
“But you don’t do you, you are required to spend your whole life spent working for us, doing the programming for this Model- well it made your existence worth it did it not? All those hours groveling around at the meters, or picking at the visa-screens and preening your little P.U. pets for show, all for Alpha.”
“I…”
“I told you to not to get attached, and Christiana told you no to the skin grafting.”
“Why.”
“Simply because you were told not to.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You pressed with your little heart to your full capabilities, beat yourself up over a little mishap and still went around us.”
“Why is it so wrong, what is in his programming!”
“It’s he now is it; you really did get attached to a bucket of metal Chica. The only thing that is in there that was not programmed into him by one of you robo-lovers is what is always there.”
“And what is that then?”
The purple filled me; my eyes, my thoughts, even my throat, the purple kept filling me until I was gasping to escape the metallic whirring of them and the obsession it seemed to be clinging to my life.
“Why the very same thing we all share Missy.”
“Christie’s right Chica, we all share what is in the programming in him.”
“I always knew that filling your head with all those numbers would lose you.”
“She’s not lost, just confused Christie, Missy is just confused about it all.”
“Then tell me you air filled neuron High-ends, inform me of my mistake.”
I stood my ground in the pale shimmering gown, trails of silver and liquid diamonds surrounded me in a blanket of protection as that of my very skin.
“Temper, temper Missy.”
“I think it’s time for Chica to be dismissed.”
With those final words a sense of masochistic joy over-filled me, similar that of the purple of every one of the eyes around me. It was over, my work was finished and that was all that really mattered. I finished the perfect model of humanity in a robot. Now it was my turn to be dismantled and reprogrammed.
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