by W. H. Massa
“Inhabiting a mech body will be unlike anything you've experienced before.”
The machine’s lights flashed faster and faster, graduating into a kaleidoscopic blur.
“You may feel trapped, buried inside your own body.”
The claustrophobia was getting stronger. Cole was on the verge of losing control. Every instinct screamed out and his fists wanted to hammer away at the steel frame imprisoning him.
“There might be times when you'll be pushed to the edge. During those moments of doubt, you must stay in control. Remain focused on the mission...”
Cole’s breathing accelerated, drawing breath in sharp, staccato bursts.
“...And never forget who you are. What you are...”
The machine’s humming seemed to grow deafening.
“Human.”
***
A series of lasers began mapping Cole's consciousness. His world was erased in momentary darkness before being replaced by a rapid-fire light show of images. He recognized them as his memories. Snapshots of his life flashed before his eyes as they were digitized. He was reliving every memory as he had originally experienced them.
Cole was flying a kite on some beach. He could feel the snap of the wind against his face, the string cutting into the soft palms of his five-year old hands. He could hear his own laughter, his parents watching from afar, waving, their smiles full of encouragement.
ZAAP! The image switched to a box covered in firetruck-red wrapping paper. Little hands clawed at the present and enthusiastically tore at the paper, liberating the video-game Cole had wished for with all his heart. He was reliving the first Christmas that he could recall. The memory hit him on an emotional, visceral level. He could feel the unbridled joy, the excitement. He cried out with pleasure, his voice becoming...
The roar of a cheering crowd. He was now playing baseball with other eighth graders. He tasted dust and sand and felt the sweat percolating down his forehead. He felt the motion of the bat, the impact of it connecting with the incoming ball. The cheers turned into...
The sharp bark of a drill sergeant shouting orders at Cole looking at men and women wearing police cadet uniforms. His first year at the police academy. In the midst of a training exercise, the cadets worked their way through a challenging obstacle course consisting of walls and fences of various heights that had to be surmounted and overcome.
As Cole scaled a six-foot fence, his muscles screaming, lungs burning, the scene changed once again. The sounds of labored breathing and growing exhaustion made way for the unbridled laughter of people blowing off steam. Cole raised his pint in a shaky toast, spilling a nice amount of beer as his glass made contact with the mugs of his drinking buddies. He stifled a burp and tasted the chili-dog he’d wolfed down before the drinking had begun in earnest. It was graduation night at the academy and after the long months of work and stress, everyone was letting loose. The party was in full swing and the world seemed to be spinning. Cole lost his footing and fell forward, but his friends were there to catch him. Their laughter rang out. Reliving this moment reminded Cole how nice it was to have friends; real friends who would be there when one needed them the most. The last time he had felt such camaraderie was...
The thought was stillborn as the world around him changed once more. The crowded bar made way for the open road, an endless stretch of highway streaking past him, the world reduced to a shimmering blur of heat and motion. Cole was behind the wheel of a sports car, the wind whipping his hair. He turned toward the smiling beauty at his side: Kelly, his wife. They weren’t married yet. This was only their third date. Their lips met. He could taste her heat, smell her perfume; she loved to wear Issey Myagi, choosing it over sweeter smelling brands. The moment was perfect and Cole wanted to hold on to it, his fingers clinging to Kelly in a fierce embrace.
He finally pulled back and found himself staring at the same woman but now she was dressed in white. It was his wedding day. Kelly, his bride to be, was beaming with happiness. He caught glimpses of his family, made out fragments of wedding music. Their whole life lay ahead, rife with possibility. He wanted the insane flow of memories to stop, to preserve the happy times somehow, to remain in the past when the world was bright and full of potential.
Once again the scene changed.Potential became reality. Cole now observed his wife giving birth to their daughter, her face coated in perspiration. A true miracle as Cole had contracted the Omega virus when he was a teenager and believed himself sterile.
The dizzying highlight reel of Cole’s past grew darker, a mad carousel now spinning out of control. Please, don’t, he thought. Please let me get off this ride. Cole knew all too well what lay ahead, but he couldn’t change where his memories were taking him. The past was the past.
The next image was all too familiar but still managed to break his heart. Once again, Cole was staring at his wife but now he was looking at her lifeless remains laid out on a stainless steel autopsy table, her face ivory, her body covered by a shroud. Get me out of here! Almost as if someone was listening and chose to be merciful, the image morphed into the features of the female mech he’d confronted back on the freighter. Once again, Cole faced the runaway in the cargo hold, his fury growing with each successive punch. He was giving expression to all his pain, his grief becoming a living organism that he channeled into the rogue AI. He pulled the trigger and blew the android away. The scenery changed, now replaced with more images of violence and strife: memories of Cole being consumed by his AI-TAC work, kicking in doors, gunning down one mech after another, a series of short-circuiting android bodies twitching and writhing on the ground until...
The world grew black once again and reality flared into view. Cole was back in the lab, now flanked by a group of technicians led by Dr. Ajit. The group was looking down at him in expectant silence. His position, angle and view of the room had changed. He was on the other side of the upload chamber! Which could only mean...
“Did... it... work..?”
Cole heard a voice marred by electronic distortion and realized with horror that it was his own voice.Dr. Ajit nodded reassuringly. “The upload was a success. You're just learning how to modulate your synthetic voice...”
Your synthetic voice.
Cole could feel the waves of panic closing in.
It can’t be possible…
He thought he’d been prepared for this, that he had mentally steeled himself for the reality of what he would face, but he was wrong. The voice was only the beginning. Ajit sounded different, his words slightly elongated.
“My hearing...”
“Things will sound different for a while. You're no longer perceiving sound through the human auditory system but instead through external microphones.”
Cole tried to lift his arm but his limbs didn’t respond. He caught a glimpse of the barcode on the palm of his hand and his heart sank.
Oh, my God…
A few techs rushed to Cole's assistance. They hoisted him into a futuristic wheelchair and wheeled him up to a nearby mirror. Janson had said that the first few moments following the upload were crucial. Many a mind had shattered under the weight of the process and retreated into a state of denial. He had to see and confront what he had become as quickly as possible so he could come to accept the change. Cole wanted to fight off the techs. Didn’t they realize he wasn’t ready, just give me a fucking minute to process it all...
Unable to ward them off, incapable of moving his arms, his body having forgotten how to obey his mind, they pushed him toward his waiting reflection. The face staring back at Cole was familiar yet different. He was somehow fresher, more innocent. Cole appeared about ten years younger, eyes unblemished by the passage of time. He was looking at a version of himself that he had forgotten ever existed, before the job, before losing everything that had ever mattered to him.
His initial rush of wonder made way for growing horror. Cole realized the scar on his face was gone. He turned his head, exposing the shimmering power bars on
his neck and the transparent skull case filled with electronics: the mark of an AI.
“No...” Shock rippled over Cole's face. Overwhelmed by the reality, he struggled to stave off the beginning of a panic attack. His mouth gasped for air. “I... can't... breathe...”
Janson appeared behind him. His fingers dug into Cole's shoulder. “You can't breathe because you have no lungs. You’re not human anymore.”
“Help me...”
“You're inside a mech construct, Cole! You don't need oxygen any longer.“
“What...should... I do?”
“Try to relax. Think of something that'll calm you.”
Fuck, easier said than done.
Cole concentrated and focused on an image that had provided him with strength and comfort on many occasions: Kelly, smiling at him with love and deep emotion, their eight-month-old child cradled in her arms.
He stopped trying to suck in lungfuls of oxygen.
Calm returned to his face and the panic subsided.
He was back in control.
“Trust me, Cole. It'll get easier.”
Cole remained doubtful.
7
Cole had thought the days leading up to the upload were intense, but the weeks that followed took things to a whole other level. The tests were grueling and seemed never-ending. Synthetika wasn’t going to release Cole into the field until they were convinced he’d be able to complete the mission. They had one chance at this.
On the first day, Cole had to be steered around in a wheelchair, his brain still learning to communicate with his machine body. He had become a newborn trapped in an adult physiology. Dr. Ajit kept track of his progress and regarded the new Cole with fascination and enthusiasm. Cole, meanwhile, felt like someone had locked him into a steel coffin and lost the key. He’d become a guinea pig and a monster. Dr. Ajit smiled broadly as Cole was wheeled into his office.
“How do you feel today?”
“Not quite like myself.”
“Nice to see you haven't lost your sense of humor.” Ajit held up a pen. “Look at the pen. Please follow it with your eyes.” Ajit waved the pen first to his right, then to the left. Cole was tracking his movements when Ajit snatched a rubber ball off his desk and threw it at Cole. His arm came up and he caught the ball.
“Excellent. Hand-eye coordination is improving.”
Cole was growing impatient with all these games.
“When will I be able to walk again?”
“Let's find out.”
Dr. Ajit wheeled Cole into an indoor running track and urged him to get out of the steel chair that held his android frame. He spent the first two hours struggling for the proper balance to stand on both his feet. It took time, but he pulled it off. Using crutches, he began the long, arduous trek around the four-hundred-meter running track. Each step represented an excruciating challenge. Janson and Dr. Ajit observed from afar.
No pressure now, Cole thought.
It took him over three hours to complete the circuit and he nearly fell several times, but he completed the loop, a big step up from being confined to a wheelchair. Cole could tell Dr. Ajit was delighted by his progress. The cyberneticist seemed convinced he’d advance at an exponential rate.
He turned out to be right. The next day Cole tossed the crutches aside and managed a light jog. By the end of the week, he could complete the loop in less than twenty seconds while clearing a challenging series of hurdles, breaking every Olympic record on the books. As he cut across the track, he momentarily forgot what had happened, wrapped up in the joy of pure movement in a body capable of performing at maximum capacity.
This mastery of his new body wasn’t restricted to the running track but also grew apparent in some of the sparring sessions designed to measure his combat skills. On the first day, Cole could barely hold his own against one human martial artist. By day five, he was able to ward off between seven to ten combatants without being hit once. He dodged each blow and blocked every attack with ease, his enhanced speed and strength providing him with a clear physical advantage. The unfortunate volunteers who faced him in hand-to-hand combat didn’t stand a chance against the ferocious blur of movement. He had never felt this powerful, so strong, so invincible. When he felled the last assailant, he almost let out a whoop of joy.
He was shocked at how his emotional state could change so quickly, from the depths of psychological despair to the adrenaline-charged highs brought on by the abilities of his new body. I’m officially bipolar, Cole mused.
His physical progress was accompanied by a greater confidence in using the tools his enhanced mechanical body provided. Once again, it was Dr. Ajit who patiently guided him through the process of discovery. Cole could not have asked for a better and more patient teacher. Ajit built mechs from the ground up and knew their capabilities as well as if he was one himself.
“Let's do something a little different, Cole,“ he said. “What can you tell me about myself?”
For a moment, Cole looked stumped. Until...
Digital data ripped over his vision, almost as if he was wearing a combat helmet with the HUD switched on. Built-in facial-recognition software scanned Ajit’s features. A surge of data appeared before his eyes as Cole wirelessly interfaced with a series of computer networks. Background info popped up on the cyberneticist. Height, weight, physical stats were followed by records, history, accomplishments, online videos. Cole absorbed and processed all this information within seconds.
“Your name is Chamal Ajit. Age 42, twice divorced, graduated with honors from Princeton, no criminal record except for a DUI-“
“That's enough!” Ajit paused for a second, regained his composure and added, ”The augmented reality function seems to be working just fine. Be aware that you’re not your average mechanical.” Dr. Ajit always used the word mechanicals when talking about synthetic humans, almost as if he felt the other terms were derogatory in some way. “We’ve equipped you with some of the most sophisticated wireless hacking tech on the planet.”
“I feel so special.” Cole exchanged a smile with Dr. Ajit. He liked the doctor.
“Let’s try something else,” Ajit said. “What color is my office?”
“Blue. And you could use a better decorator.”
Dr. Ajit rolled his eyes and stifled back a grin. “Vision seems fine. Your robotic eyes can process visual data within a wider range of the electromagnetic spectrum...”
As if to test out the veracity of Ajit’s word, Cole ran an X-ray scan on the scientist. The man’s skeleton suddenly stared back at him, a disconcerting experience. He soon learned he could scan reality in infrared and was outfitted with full night-vision capabilities. Perceiving reality in such a way wasn’t new; his combat helmet was equipped with all the same features, which made the experience feel less alien. The big difference was pulling off these feats without the cumbersome addition of technology. He had become the technology.
As the days wore on, more changes about his altered state came into focus. His senses might have grown more refined but the way he processed the world had lost an emotional component. His sense of smell could break down the air into its various component parts but the process felt clinical and removed. He could isolate and identify the aftershave Ajit was wearing, the soaps and oils he used every day, whether he had sex that morning, even the type of detergent he used for washing his clothes, but it all felt like an exercise, lacking any sense of joy or excitement.
Food was another matter. Mentally he craved eggs and steak even though his tongue and body remained indifferent to it. Mechs had the ability to break down small amounts of food in order to share dinner with their human companions. Eating merely served a social function. The pleasure a good meal had once provided was quickly becoming a distant memory that Cole desperately tried to hold on to.
***
There were moments where he could pretend nothing had changed, that everything was the way it should be, but reality always had a way of catching up with him. Adjust
ing to the endless list of altered sensations had become maddening in the extreme. He inhabited a new body and his reality had changed. He was a man who had been transformed into a machine and, inwardly, he wondered how long he could stand it.
A full week passed before Janson took Cole for a walk in the park adjacent to Synthetika’s R&D labs. For seven interminable days, Cole had been locked up and he was going stir crazy. He felt like a dirty secret the company was keeping a tight lid on. Being outside with the sun beating down on him had a slightly surreal quality to it. He could still feel the heat, but like many of his physical sensations, there was once again a qualitative difference in the experience. His skin was organic but the way the nerve endings communicated with his CPU was different. Many of the nuances were lost in translation.
Being outside reminded Cole that his social universe had changed. Much care had been taken to keep him within the grounds of the lab. It was crucial that none of his former team members stumbled upon AI Cole. If they saw him, it would blow the whole plan.
He felt isolated. Even worse, the few people Cole did interact with now looked at him differently. No longer was he the respected head of AI-TAC. To their eyes, he was just another mech. Even Janson had changed. The CEO’s voice seemed just a tad more superior, a touch more demanding. If the head of Synthetika was treating him this way, what could he expect once he stepped into the outside world? The possibilities disturbed Cole.
Almost as if Janson was reading his mind, he asked, “Do you think you're ready, Cole?”
“As ready as I'll ever be. The sooner I complete this mission, the quicker I get my body back…”
Cole broke off and stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes fixed on a Synthetika security officer who had appeared before them. Kneeling at the man's side was the German Shepherd Cole used to train the cadets. The former AI-TAC commander realized this was Janson’s final test.
The dog bared his teeth, a low growl building in his throat. There was zero recognition in the canine's eyes. Cole wasn't his master any longer.