The Creation of Amy

by Jason Rockwell

  “The problem with that is there are elements in this story that cannot be ignored, your amazing invention. You see, I am very interested I your work, Doctor—many other people are too. Since you built both the androids with your own money, and you apparently did not take any classified information from the government lab, combined with the fact that you both quit before you began working on them, we cannot just simply take them off your hands. After all, innovation is one of the many things that make our nation great.

  “With that being said, I’m prepared to make you two an offer,” he said, clasping his hands together on the table. He appeared quite relaxed.

  Beckett pulled out some paperwork and handed it to Morse.

  He continued, “If you agree to let us, The United States Government, use your two androids at certain times for official business, and you help us to develop our own android project, I can assure you, you will go free. After all, you weren’t responsible for those fifty-something deaths, and Evans and Delaney had it coming, so no one’s going to miss them.”

  Morse and Phillips looked over the paperwork and showed it to Edward.

  Edward said to Phillips and Morse after reading the paperwork carefully, “This looks good. I’d take it.”

  Phillips asked Beckett, “What do you mean by, official business, and what would you do with androids of your own?”

  Beckett leaned back in his chair.

  “Androids have unique skills that can be utilized in situations that would be suicidal for an average soldier.”

  Morse asked, “They want to build droids to send into battle, and also they want to send Amy or Steph into places for assassinations, am I correct Colonel?”

  Beckett nodded yes.

  “Imagine not losing lives the way we do now,” Beckett pointed out. “One droid would get destroyed, but then we would just build another.”

  Morse asked, “Will we be allowed to build droids for average people? I’d like to start a business of my own with my future business partner and friend, here.”

  Beckett nodded yes.

  “But first,” he said, “there needs to be regulation of them. There will be a senate committee meeting in two days to make laws governing them, and we want you there.”

  Morse asked another, but final question of Beckett, “When can we get our girls back?”

  “After the meeting,” Beckett answered, and by the glow on his face, it was plain to see already that this was the offer of all offers, and they would be fools to refuse it.

  Edward spoke up, “Okay, you have a deal.

  “So, Lindbergh will drop all of the charges?”

  “It’s already been done, and you two are free to go,” Lindbergh answered.

  Colonel Beckett stood up, “I have somewhere I need to be. I’ll see you both in Washington.”

  The colonel excused himself in an official manner and left the courthouse.

  Lindbergh warned them, “Don’t let anymore incidents happen gentlemen, you have no idea how lucky you are.”

  He also courteously excused himself and left the mediation room.

  Morse and Phillips stood up, Edward stood, and they all shook hands.

  “Let’s go celebrate our success, Son,” Edward suggested.

  That sounded perfect after time in the slammer eating beyond questionable jailhouse food.

  They all walked out of the building, and reporters began swarming, snapping photos and berating them with questions. They ignored the reporters while hailing a cab.

  Phillips said to Morse and Edward, “I’ll get the next cab, I want to go home, but I’ll be by later, okay?”

  “Sure thing, Phillips,” Morse said.

  Morse and Ed got into the cab and headed to a fine restaurant, then home to Morse’s place.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Morse unlocked the front door, and father and son entered the lab.

  “I haven’t seen Mom, where is she?”

  “She wasn’t feeling well today, so, she’s at the hotel.”

  Edward walked around, looking at all the computers and machines.

  “So, you spent all of your money on this.”

  “Yes, well, most of it.”

  “I have to admit I wasn’t happy when you decided to be a scientist, even more so when you told me you wanted to be a cyberneticist.”

  “Yeah, I know. I was a great disappointment to you.”

  “No, Son, I just didn’t see a future in it. I thought you were making a bad decision, but you were happy until Liz had passed. I cannot imagine what it has been like for you. However, you did something no one else has done before because of it. As a result, you are going to change the world, and for that, I am proud.

  “I know our relationship has not been what it should be, but I would like to see more of you. You are always welcome to stay with us; I know your mother misses you.

  “Well, I should be going. Hopefully, your mother is feeling better.”

  “Okay, how long are you staying now?”

  “We’re going back tomorrow, but, we will both come here before we leave, if that’s okay?”

  “Yeah, of, course, Dad,” he said feeling elated by his father’s praise. “It was good to see you in action again. I can see why you loved being a defense attorney, and you’re still sharp.”

  Ed smiled, “I did enjoy it, I like the spot light. Your mother always hated it though, and it was time to stop.

  “You are not used to the spot light; you are like your mother in that way.

  “Things will be different now for you, since you are somewhat of a celebrity, and an infamous one, but there is plenty of time and ways to change that, and something else will happen in the world. People will forget about you, just lay low.

  “It will be a circus at the committee meeting, just stay calm, and don’t say anything stupid, and you should be okay.”

  “Thanks.”

  His father shook Morse’s hand, pulling him in for a quick hug with a firm clap on the back, “See you tomorrow, Son.”

  He left and Morse waved to him out the doorway.

  Phillips arrived a few hours later and said to Morse, who was sitting in front of the upstairs apartment TV, “Your father left?”

  “Yeah,” Morse answered, “but he’ll be back tomorrow, and then they’re going back to Florida.”

  Phillips helped himself to a beer in the fridge, and sat down with Morse, who was already drinking a beer.

  “Well, I’m finally a free man,” he revealed, “so I’m happy to go home to meet my girlfriend, and she dumps me! Unbelievable!”

  Morse was sad to hear that.

  “Sorry. Well, at least she did not do it when we were in jail. Why’d she dump you?”

  “Oh, well, she doesn’t like all the people asking about me, talking about me and not her, selfish bitch.”

  Morse laughed, “You’re better off without that mess. Besides we have a business to start.”

  “Amen,” he toasted, and held up his beer.

  Phillips thought for a moment, “We’re going to build them here? No offense, but this place is small and in a ratty part of town. I never know if my car will be out there or not.”

  Morse chuckled, “I think I’m sick of the damn city, and everything is expensive here. I could sell this place, you could chip in, and we could buy a nice building in the country somewhere near a highway with low taxes.”

  “I’ll start looking,” Phillips offered, “I’ll find something, preferably in the center of the country, with warm weather, and hot country girls.”

  “Yeah, I’ll paint the Dodge orange, and put a Confederate flag on the roof—we’ll fit right in, just kidding. I like my car black, but I think I want a pickup truck.”

  Phillips chuckled now, “I hope this committee thing works out okay. I’m sick of court rooms and authority.”

  “I’m not looking forward to it, but, if that’s what we have to do, then so be it.”

  Awhile later, there was a knock at the door,
and Phillips went down to answer it. Kara said hi to him, and walked in with Patrick.

  Phillips said to the both of them, “Well, we’re free men, finally!”

  “Yeah,” Patrick said, “I’m glad for you!”

  “Where’s Rob,” Kara asked, “Upstairs?”

  “Yeah, he’s up there.”

  “I’m going to go talk to him.”

  “Sure,” he said, and then asked Pat, “Do you want a beer?”

  “Sure, thanks.”

  Phillips walked over to the mini-fridge in the lab, and Pat followed behind him. Grabbing a beer, he handed it to Pat. They both sat in office chairs in the lab and Phillips got on the computer, looking up real estate.

  Kara went upstairs, said hi to Morse, and sat on the ratty couch with him. Morse said hi and kept watching TV.

  Kara asked, “Can Amy play guitar?”

  “A little, we just started playing around with the idea before she was stolen. Why?”

  “Well, because I think if you could get her to play the guitar, and Stephanie could as well, you could have them play songs for people, you know, to improve their image.”

  Morse looked at Kara, “Do you want a beer?”

  Shaking her head, “Oh, no, thanks,” she answered.

  “So, what you are saying is, you want me to, what, start a band using Amy and Steph? That’s silly.”

  “That’s not silly, if they could play the guitar, and play songs for free. Then people will love them. If you could get them to lay some good songs, I could get you a place to have them play. I’ll help you; we could start a one-of-a-kind band!”

  Morse could not help but laugh, “You’re serious, aren’t you? Your husband knows about this?”

  “Yes, and I even have a name for their band, The Mega Girls, cool, huh?”

  “Oh, gee,” he groaned, “I don’t know anything about bands, I barely play the guitar myself.”

  “Well, let me handle that end of it, you just teach them how to play and even sing, can they sing?”

  “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation, but I’m sure we could program them to sing.

  “Good, it’s official, I’m the band manager. Get them to play guitar and sing, and I will get the rest of the band together, and plus I will get them their gigs.

  “Maybe you will get paid also if we get going.”

  Morse lifted his head up and widened at the prospect of income.

  “Paid, you say?”

  He scratched his scruffy chin while he considered her proposal.

  “Hmm, maybe that’s not so crazy,” he murmured.

  Kara gave him a gleeful hug, “No, it’s not, but you are! Plus, I’m Amy’s mother, right? I’m just looking out for what’s best for her. I’ll talk to you later, see-ya!”

  Kara began walking out, and Morse teased, “I’m glad we can get along for our daughter,” and smiling with that deviant glint in his eyes.

  “Ha, ha, funny,” she said in a sarcastic way, scrunching up her nose, and then went downstairs.

  The next day, Morse’s parents arrived and spent the day with him. They went out to eat, and walked around the city, then returned to the building. Afterwards, they left for Florida.

  A while after, Phillips arrived.

  “Well, time to go to Washington,” he told Morse.

  “I’m all packed, just throw your stuff in the trunk, and we will be off.”

  Phillips put his luggage in the trunk of the Charger, Morse backed it out of the garage, and Phillips put his car in its place. Morse closed the door, Phillips sat in the passenger seat, and they left for DC.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Thursday morning came and the two scientists found the committee hearing location, and as forewarned, the media was there with force, so even the large room was crowded, and Morse and Phillips made their way to their seats. Dressed in nice suits, they sat down.

  The formalities began, and a senator named Daughtry began speaking.

  “Please everyone, be seated. This committee is now underway, in the matter of regulations for android ownership.

  “Since this is a new invention, and as of late been in the realm of science-fiction, there are no laws on the books for them.”

  Daughtry and a number of other senators were sitting at a long table facing Morse, Phillips, and the people in attendance.

  “Doctor Morse,” Daughtry said, “let me ask you a few questions before we determine what laws should govern these machines.

  “Firstly, the android Amy, she is very strong and that may be good if we were dealing with military droids, but you wish to found a company to mass-produce them for the public.

  “Tell me, can their strength be adjusted?”

  “Yes, sir,” he nodded.

  Being that his father was a lethal interrogator, Morse felt prepared for the interrogation.

  I never imagined I would ever feel grateful for such experiences, but this feels as simple as playing patty-cake with a little girl, he thought as he admired the man beside him.

  “We can reduce the power sent to the metal filaments in their synthetic muscles and lesson their strength.”

  “That’s good, because I don’t think it would be wise to sell full-strength models to the public.

  “Is there a way to make it possible for them to be easily identified as androids by the general public?”

  “Yes, sir, we could alter their looks so they have marks on them that would easily identify them as droids.”

  “Could you please, Doctor Morse, in more detail explain to us what kind of marks?”

  “I could design them with marks on their faces and hands, that could not be removed, much like tattoos, and possibly give them an unnatural hair color and unnatural eye color.”

  “I see. Is there a way, Doctor Morse, to make sure their programming cannot be altered by the new owner?”

  “Yes, sir,” Morse answered, “we can add a program that would destroy its hard-drive if anyone tampered with its core programs.”

  “If one of these androids were to go out of control for some reason, how could you stop them, Doctor Morse?”

  “The same ways you would stop a human, sir, bullets would destroy their batteries, if you shot them in the stomach. Also, a Taser would work well.”

  “A Taser would work?”

  “Yes, sir, the muscles work the same way real muscles do; they have an electrical charge that runs through them, resulting in the muscles contracting.”

  “How do you believe these devices should be regulated by us, Doctor Morse?”

  “Well,” Morse mused for a moment, “I think they should be regulated the same way we regulate automobiles. You would need a license to own one, there should be an age limit, like 16, 18, or 21, and we could give each android an A.I.N., or Android Identification Number. That way, we could identify easily who owned the droid. Each new droid would be weaker than a normal human and have tamper-proof programming.”

  “Is there anything else we should know about these machines, Doctor Morse?”

  “I think I should point out that even if we install tamper-proof software into the androids, there will always be someone trying to reprogram them. In fact, they can simply create a new brain, and program it themselves. In reality, they will, I cannot stop that. That is why licensing people that want to own droids is a good idea. If they do have one do something illegal, they can be the one who deals with the consequences. Such as owning and driving a car, we are all responsible as drivers to operate automobiles safely.”

  “I appreciate your candor, Doctor Morse.

  “I must ask this question, could these machines turn on their masters in the future?”

  “Not with my programming, sir. They have directives that are unalterable, but I assure you, someone else may create programming that is not as superior as my colleague’s is. They’re walking computers and do whatever they’re programmed to do.”

  “Will there, Doctor Morse, be a situation in the future where
these androids decide to work together to destroy humanity?”

  Morse snorted a chuckle, “No, sir. They simply do not do that.

  “However, thanks to Moor’s Law, in ten years Amy will look like a Model-T Ford or the Wright Brother’s hang glider compared to what will exist, and there’s no way of knowing what the future will look like. Nevertheless, I do know that it will not involve a war with machines, like in The Terminator. It is all about what we do with the technology; it is useful for many good tasks or for evil deeds. The plane was a great invention and helped humanity leap forward, making things much easier to transport, but also used to drop bombs and level entire cities. It’s just another page in technological evolution.”

  “I see, Doctor Morse. Well, far be it for me, or anyone else here, to stand in the way of progress. I, for one, am excited at the prospect of an android that could clean the house or do whatever my family and I need, making our lives easier.

  “Allow me, please, to ask another question. Could these machines ever become sentient?”

  He shook his head, “No, they do what they are programmed to do. They learn also, however, they are machines. They always will be no matter how advanced they get. They are tools to serve people and that is it. They do not have souls; they are property, no more so than your car is. I’m sure some lost souls out there someday will want them to have rights, but they will be misguided.”

  “I know.

  “Allow me ask, Doctor, are you going to create a man android and android children?”

  “I suppose eventually a man will be produced, but we won’t produce children. It just seems far too strange, but someone else probably will at some point.”

  “What about an android dog?”

  “Well, someday. Right now, because the cranial capacity of a dog is so much less than a human’s is, the computer brain would also have to be small. It wouldn’t be worth it at this point in time.”

  “What about a human brain in an android, Doctor Morse? Is that possible?”

  “That would technically be a cyborg, sir, and right now, it’s not possible, but it’s becoming possible to install technology into humans.