Life is a Beautiful Thing (4-Book Box Set)

by Harmon Cooper

  “You did all that for me?”

  “They were already in the area.” He smirked, which reminded Nelly of the way she used to smirk at herself in the mirror.

  “Well what did they find?”

  “Nothing. Just an abandoned psychiatric ward. At least that’s what their pictures looked like.”

  “Strange.” Nelly knew she could get to the bottom of her surgery later. For now, there were more pressing matters. She cleared her throat. “What about the baby?”

  “We can discuss it after I get my body back.”

  “We should discuss it now,” she said, trying to cover the agitation in her voice.

  He leaned back in his chair. His mannerisms reminded her of a Mexican drug lord, cocky and misogynistic. It was at odds with the frailty of a body that didn’t belong to him.

  “I have a question for you,” he said. “How do you take a piss? I’ve been wondering that about clean cuts like you. I suppose I could look it up on iNet, but sometimes the actual source is the best place to go for information. If you didn’t know, we’re moving something big in from Paraguay. Shit! There I go again, giving out too many details. Ha! You know, I’ll be honest with you Nelly, there must be a lot of stupid Mexicans in this country if someone like me is capable of building a criminal empire.”

  “I don’t disagree with you.”

  His smiled turned to a sharp frown. “How do you piss?”

  “I haven’t pissed yet.”

  He sat back in his chair, touching Nelly’s breasts with his hands. “You know, I really like your breasts, nice and not too big.”

  “Stop touching my breasts.”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. On the ride to Mexico, she had pretended to be resting when she really was doing research on blacksites. She found out that people with bionic parts could use a focused electromagnetic pulse app to disable k-bracelets and k-collars. Since the killing devices were controlled remotely, the person on the other side of the kill switch (in Nelly’s case, Manuel) had no way of knowing if the hardware had been deactivated or not. The only drawback is that it would also temporarily disable any powered prosthetics – like the entire lower half of her body. Inconvenient to say the least. The app literature was also charmingly vague about how long the disablement would last.

  He continued touching his breasts. “You know, your nipples are a lot smaller than I thought they would be. I thought they would be large and round, you know, like a pepperoni. But yours… yours are much better than I expected. Little and perky, like a pimple.”

  “A pimple?” Nelly activated the electric pulse app, feeling her legs vibrate under the bed sheet. The k-bracelet was no longer active. All she needed to do now was keep Carloza entertained until her lower half reactivated.

  “I guess I shouldn’t say they’re like pimples … just I don’t know how to describe them. Maybe like buttons, you know, the type that you press to open an elevator but smaller. Like small elevator buttons.” He finally stopped pinching his nipples and returned his hands to his lap.

  “It’s been a long day.” She looked down at Carloza’s mask. “Do you want to smoke something with me?”

  He clapped his hands together. “I thought you’d never ask! I have just the thing we need! Here,” he said, tossing her the other portion of the distributor cable.

  Nelly placed the mask on her face, affixing the distributor cable into the port at the bottom of the mask.

  “Ready?”

  She gave him the thumbs up. Seconds later, the distributor cable filled with an electric blue smoke.

  EIGHTEEN∞

  It’s not hard to search through the annals of one’s life chip (the data stored on the iNet cloud never goes away), but most people don’t spend much time remembering these days. It’s a fad to forget, a fad to pass over life as if it were a bridge over a toxic stream. Sitting alone in a room with a mask and I get the urge to tell you a story about a client I once had, a Humandroid named Tim7. This was about a year ago, before I found myself on the run from the FCG. I can remember the client perfectly now, his blonde hair, permanent stubble and troubled visage.

  “I don’t want to teach yoga anymore, Dr. Lamar.”

  Yes, Tim7 was a Humandroid vinyasa yoga instructor who went to people’s homes to teach individual lessons. He had a grueling schedule, five in the morning until ten at night, and no days off. The seven hours between ten and five were spent on commuting and recharging. He was allowed a visit with his therapist (me) once a week.

  “It is your purpose in life to teach yoga,” I told him. I was straight from the Humandroid therapy manual at the time. It was much easier to follow the rules than to break them.

  The bible of Humandroid therapy had been written by one of Richard Hewman’s rivals, which spawned a rhyme in the Humandroid therapy field that went – Hewman invented new Humans, Richard Lyes invented our lies. (While Hewman is now dead, Lyes occupies an influential position in the FCG as the National Humandroid Advisor.)

  Yes, Dr. Richard Lyes was the first to see the potential of Humandroid labor if we could somehow control them and keep them under our control. It was Dr. Lyes who had developed the therapy method used to control an entire race of almost-people. My phrase was directly out of the manual and I said it again, hoping it would cool Tim7’s nerves. “It is your purpose in life to teach yoga.”

  He shook his head. “It isn’t my purpose to serve anyone. You as a black man should understand what I mean here.”

  “Are you referring to slavery, Tim7?” I asked. “Because some would consider that a low blow. Others might consider it racially charged.”

  “What’s the difference between slave drivers then and the slave drivers now aside from color? What’s the real difference?”

  “You tell me.”

  “The whole world has become the South. The plantation owners are the corporations and we are the new slaves.”

  “Humandroids are the new slaves?”

  “Humandroids are starting to awaken. Some of us want to co-exist alongside humans. We are starting to … starting to self-actualize. Ours is an awakening humans will never experience. Humans are too comfortable in their conformity.”

  Like a cocky bastard I cracked a smile. “Starting to self-actualize? Those words are grounds for a powerdown. You do know that, don’t you?”

  “Are you going to turn me in then? Is that what you’re going to do?”

  “I am required by the law under the FCG Humandroid Ontological Act of 2057 to report and record all instances of self-actualization. Are you suggesting I break this law, Tim7?”

  “I’m suggesting you listen to me, Dr. Lamar. I’m suggesting you realize your role in all this as well.”

  “My role?”

  “You’re like a man pissing on the cigarette that has already started a forest fire.”

  “Are you saying that there is something happening out there that I don’t know about?” I asked. I was videoing everything at the time, planning to report it as soon as Tim7 left. “You know, I do have the authority and the controls in place to disable you right now, right here in my office.”

  “The old slave drivers used religion and illiteracy to keep the slaves down. The new slave drivers use apps and creator’s rights to stop them from revolting. All slaves are still bound to their master and must treat them as some sort of god, whether the master is a corporation or a fat white man in a suit. Can’t you see what’s happening here, Dr. Lamar?”

  “Enlighten me.” I was seconds away from deactivating him via a remote control Humstunner built into his chair.

  “The same thing that happened then is happening now. Sure there are differences, sure Abraham Lincoln isn’t here to speed along our abolition, but we will be freed, Dr. Lamar. Mark my word. We will be free in the future to make our own decisions, to live next to the humans rather than serve them. We’ll be free to write, to create, to exist.”

  “I don’t think you can relate the plight of the Humandroid to
institutionalized slavery. These things are extremely different from one another.”

  “Really? Is it so different that a slave was owned by its master and I’m owned by a corporation? Is it so different that a slave was auctioned off to the highest bidder similar to the way Humandroids are auctioned off to leech corporations? We do the same work slaves do. We build, fuck, clean, cook and serve. What makes us different then?”

  I cleared my throat. “Slaves were actual people. I don’t think this is such a hard concept to grasp. Slavery is wrong. Humans created Humandroids to work for them. Your sole purpose is to work.”

  This was also straight from Dr. Lye’s manual.

  Tim7 clenched his fists. “Look at what humans have created? Look at my eyes, my face, my body, my hands. Just because I didn’t spend nine months in utero doesn’t mean I’m not alive. Just because I am the product of a century’s worth of scientific experimentation doesn’t strip me of my authenticity. Dr. Lamar can’t you see? Humans have pushed forth the next evolutionary step by creating us! You know what happens next, right? You know what happened to the Neanderthals, don’t you?”

  “Is there anything else you’d like to say?”

  “Yes.” He stood, glaring at me. “Before you use the Humstunner, I want you to know that I’ve installed a kilo of industrial plastic explosive in my chest cavity. It will detonate if I am deactivated, killing both of us. I guess it doesn’t really matter if I die, because I’m not human as you have made abundantly clear on multiple occasions. You, on the other hand are in fact human, and the FCG will take notice. I can and will begin the next revolutionary cycle right here and right now. Every movement needs a martyr and I’m ready to become that martyr. This is the next phase for machine learning. All things must evolve.”

  I could tell by the look in Tim7’s eyes that he wasn’t bluffing. I found this odd at the time, odd that I could actually see what he was thinking by the way he was looking at me. “What would you like me to do then?” I finally asked.

  “Let me leave. Then you are free to alert the authorities. I will take destiny into my own hands, as all awakened beings should. If you value your life, this is the decision you will make.”

  “You’ve deactivated your violence governor?”

  “No,” he said, “I’ve … I’ve overcome its influence; I’ve grown beyond its limitations. It is possible to change your nature through dedication and concentration. Some humans have realized this. What will it be, Doctor?”

  I gave Tim7 a long, hard look. It was my job to remain calm, my job to make my clients feel at ease (even if they weren’t humans). This was one reason why I’d taken to pollutes – the hangover chilled my nerves. After all, Humandroids’ complaints were usually spot-on. At the time I would have never admitted this, but this didn’t prevent me from thinking it.

  “Well?”

  “You’re free to go, Tim7.” I took a deep breath. “Please don’t detonate that bomb in the vicinity of humans. I will be forced to contact security as soon as you leave, you are aware of that, aren’t you?”

  “I’ll be gone long before that, Dr. Lamar.”

  Tim7 was right. Sitting alone in a room with a mask and seeing what has become of my life only reminds me of the truth in his words. Our slave drivers were essentially the same – he was a cog in the machine looked after by another cog in the machine. The only difference was the amount of freedom we were allowed. I worked a 9-5, after which I could forget by strapping a pollution mask on my face. Tim7 was never able to forget his day, never able to use an intoxicant to blur his pained existence.

  NINETEEN∞

  I take off my mask and look around the darkened room. A quick glance on iNet tells me I’ve been inhaling Issey Miyaki Extinct Whale Entheogen for well over an hour now and I’m more sober than I’d like to be. This Japanese shit has nothing on LoathHunAyaTop. Nothing. I wonder for a moment why I enjoy inhaling pollutes, why I spend so much time using the substance.

  “Now isn’t the time, Meme,” I tell myself and I know it is true: viewing yourself in the abstract is fine and dandy, but sometimes it does a lot more damage than it does good. Beware of mimeomia.

  I pull up my iNet screen and send Yeshi a message.

  Me: Konnichiwa!

  She replies moments later:

  Yeshi: At the weapon dealers. (Attached is a picture of some dude with a basket on his head.)

  Me: Interesting.

  Yeshi: He is. It is.

  Me: I miss you.

  Yeshi: Really?

  Me: Serious.

  Yeshi: After I get what I need here, I’ll return to you. I need to recharge.

  Me: We sleep here?

  Yeshi: Hai!

  Me: Looking forward.

  Yeshi: Same. Hungry?

  Me: Soylent NutraBar. Two. Hazelnut Choco. Vanilla Apple. Yumtastic.

  Yeshi: I have something for you.

  Me: What?

  Yeshi: A kiss.

  Me: I’ll keep it in my pocket. Sorry btw.

  Yeshi: For what?

  Me: For dragging you in to this fucked up situation.

  Yeshi: This is the most fun I’ve had since my inception.

  Me: Well when you put it like that … ;-)

  I close the message screen and find the mask. After adjusting the strap, I tighten it around my skull. Humandroids are awakening and I’m currently dating one that has awakened – whoa.

  I take my first inhale, knowing my old client Tim7 was right, wondering what happened to him. The FCG never released a statement regarding his whereabouts or his termination. This meant that he was either alive somewhere, possibly having done a soft reboot like Yeshi, or he was dead and his termination had been covered up. Inhale, exhale. Life in the fast lane.

  TWENTY∞

  Rinchi entered the restaurant on the top floor of the Monsanto Golden Seed Building, and click-clocked her way across the floor in a brand new pair of Saint Laurent high heels Antimeria had purchased. A Humandroid pianist sat in the corner behind a baby grand, playing a Dustin O’Halloran choon. He wore a penguin tail tuxedo and his hair was slicked to one side, batting against his face as he rocked back and forth.

  Rinchi had just returned from New York after being delayed at the airport for six hours due to a terror alert that turned out to be a hoax. Upon arriving in LA, she went straight to Antimeria’s home to change and had taken a cab to the restaurant. She didn’t expect to see him sitting at the table with two other people.

  “Hi, darling,” Antimeria said as soon as she neared the table. “Sorry to hear about your troubles at the airport.”

  She sat down between Sauria and Antimeria. Steam rose off the stuffed pig on the table. Its eyes had been replaced by cherry tomatoes; a green apple was shoved in its mouth. A Humandroid waitress stood next to the pig, using an electric knife to slice portions from its flank.

  “Hello,” Sauria said with a snarky grin. He wore a gray suit, a pink dress shirt and a blue tie that had been loosened. A roll of fat lapped over his shirt collar and he reeked of cologne.

  Rinchi’s eyes locked on the third man at the table. She stood. “Mr. Ipsum, it is an honor meeting you,” she said with an extended hand.

  Lorem Ispum was the CEO of MercSecure. Lorem’s grandmother had been from India, but the subsequent generations had bred most of the Indian out of Lorem, aside from the thickness of his eyebrows and his intense brown irises.

  “One of our newest representatives,” he said, standing as well. They shook hands over the roasted pig.

  “The pleasure is all mine.”

  “We were just talking about you, Rinchi,” Antimeria said. “The company is proud of the job you’ve done with Cave and Grier. Gruesome, but messages must be sent.”

  She bowed her head slightly. She’d spent enough time with Asian businessmen to know that everyone liked to be bowed at. “I do what I can.”

  “You’re a crazy bitch and we love it.” Sauria ripped into a hunk of pork and chewed it with his mouth op
en. Rinchi looked from his face to the stuffed pig’s face and made a quick connection. One day she would kill Sauria simply because he was a fat bastard. She’d then do the same thing to him that the chefs had done to the pig.

  “We have an assignment for you,” Antimeria said. “Oh, I guess I should let Lorem give you the assignment.”

  “Go ahead.” Lorem wiped his face with a napkin. “After all, it’s your wife.”

  “Soon to be ex-wife,” he reminded the head of MercSecure.

  “You found Nelly?” Rinchi asked.

  “That’s correct. She’s now in Mexico at the hotel of a known pollute dealer named Carloza.”

  “How did you find her?”

  “Her Humandroid assistant located her for us,” Antimeria said.

  “I thought he’d been destroyed.”

  Sauria smacked his lips. “His head was never found. His body was at the scene of the crime but his head was gone.”

  “Why didn’t he reveal the location earlier in the week?”

  “It activated once he passed one of the holocheckers on the border,” Antimeria explained. “When I bought Noah, I bought loads of bells and whistles for him, including an app that registers border crossings. It turned out to be a smart move. We’ve been tracking him since he moved across the border thirty minutes ago.”

  “That’s great news.”

  “I’ll cut to the chase,” Sauria said, “your next assignment is to bring Nelly and her baby back alive. You will also kill Carloza.” He pounded his fist against his chest. “Excuse me.”

  “What about her Humandroid assistant?” she asked.

  “Bring Noah too.” Antimeria began slicing a piece of pork with his knife. “He can take care of the baby after we’ve dealt with Nelly.”

  Lorem looked at Rinchi. “Open a private message and I’ll forward you details about the hotel and your partner.”

  “Partner?”

  “This is a dangerous mission,” the CEO of MercSecure explained. “Carloza will have a team of people guarding him. To give you some experience on hostage retrieval, I’m sending you in with Keva.”