“You ever hear of Socrates, Clovis?” Eugene lit another cigarette, and then lit one for Clovis and handed it to him.
“I have heard of him, but that’s about it.”
“Socrates once said that wisest man accepts that he knows nothing at all… or something like that.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He means that we would be considering ourselves godly if we accepted anything as certainty. I, too, am a man of God.” He reached into his top drawer and pulled out a Bible. It made a loud thump as he dropped it on top of the desk. “But I am not arrogant enough to say for certain that there is a heaven. I am not arrogant enough to assume that there is anything after death.”
“But I know there is a heaven. Sir, you might not be certain... but I am. I have no room in my heart for doubt.”
Eugene went silent as he put his Bible back into his desk drawer and rubbed his eyes in impatience. He shifted in his seat as he began to take another approach. “You were stationed in Iraq, right?”
“Yes.”
“War is such an ugly and terrible thing.”
“Yes.”
“Is that why you drink? Are you trying to wash away a memory?”
“I don’t know… I guess I drink because---”
“You kill anyone over there, Clovis?”
Clovis fell silent as he stared into the floor.
“The newspaper recounts how Iraq was destroyed. City streets and houses and churches were in ruins. How many civilians were in those buildings? How many enemy soldiers did you have to gun down to---”
Clovis grabbed his crutch and stood up so fast the chair fell behind him. “I’m going to go.”
“How much blood is on your hands, Clovis?”
“Good evening, sir, and good luck with your… whatever.”
“You think they let murderers into heaven, Clovis?” Eugene raised his voice as Clovis stepped out into the hallway.
Clovis stopped and turned around. He furrowed his brow as he looked at Eugene who was once again smiling.
“Sit back down, son. We still have much to discuss.”
Clovis returned to his seat.
By the end of the evening, Clovis agreed to participate in Dr. Davenport’s experiment. Eugene showed Clovis around, and showed him to a clean bed where he could sleep that night. Clovis was able to take a hot shower, and finally change into clean clothes. The woman in the living room brought him up a tray with a number of delicious foods: biscuits with butter, sweet and sour carrots, baked ham with a few slices of swiss cheese, buttered rice, eggs and mushrooms, and a small slice of raspberry whip cake. Eugene built a small fire in the fireplace and told Clovis that they would head out first thing in the morning to his laboratory that was located 65 minutes outside of the city in a remote location.
They drove down a dirt driveway that was surrounded by trees. At the end of the driveway was a small brick building with a heavily barricaded metal door that took Eugene a few minutes to unlock. The door opened up to a steep set of narrow stairs. At the bottom of the stairs was another door that led to the main underground building.
At the bottom of the staircase was a waiting room with a secretary that greeted Clovis with a warm smile. Clovis followed Eugene down a long hallway and walked inside an examination room. Eugene instructed Clovis to hop up on the plastic exam table. As Clovis adjusted on the table, a spunky young woman entered the room and sat in the second chair next to Eugene.
“This is Nurse Jane, Clovis. She’s just going to be taking some notes today to ensure that everything in on the up and up. We want to make sure that you are very clear about what is happening here today.
Clovis smiled at Jane, and then blushed when she winked at him.
“Alright, Clovis. I’m going to lay this out very clearly for you.” Eugene’s tone was softer and more serious than the night before. He looked over at Jane to ensure she was taking the appropriate notes. “You are currently in the laboratory A-IX. We are a company that extracts human consciousness from a live human specimen and implants it into a machine. The extraction procedure today will take 16 hours from start to finish. Once stored, we will implant it into a reinforced metal skeleton frame and encase the frame in preserved and treated tissue.”
“That’s your skin," Jane whispered and snapped her chewing gum.
“The brain will be destroyed.” Eugene held a firm and unwavering gaze upon Clovis, as if this sentence in the past sent people running out of the door.
“My brain will---”
“It’s squishy and archaic.” Eugene attempted to cut off all doubts before they evolved into fears.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“What we have is better.”
“You are going to replace my brain with something better?”
“Your brain will eventually wither and die like overripe fruit. What we created will not.”
“Can I have a cigarette?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.
“Of course!” Eugene fumbled with his tin case and presented it to Clovis.
Clovis pulled one up to his lips that curled into a grin as Jane lit it for him.
“It’s pretty frightening… I understand your hesitation, Clovis. But think about where you were when Bruce found you on that street corner. Imagine where you would have ended up in 5 years. Now imagine your name in history books as one of the first men in a generation of immortals. Two hundred years from now you will be hailed as the wisest man on Earth.”
“Heh...” Clovis snorted at such an absurd idea.
Eugene cleared his throat. “Do you, Clovis Smythe, understand the procedure as I have outlined it, and do we have you full permission to proceed?”
“Sure.” He shrugged.
“Heard.” Eugene sighed in relief.
“Witnessed," Jane added, and walked out of the room.
Afterwards, Eugene led Clovis to a large room with a long table that was surrounded by machines. He instructed him to lay down on the table, take a deep breath, and close his eyes. There was a quick pinch in his hand, and then blackness.
When he awoke, he was sitting upright in a hospital bed surrounded by people. As he opened his eyes the people who had surrounded him smiled and congratulated each other. Eugene pushed his way to the side of the bed.
“You made it to the other side, son. How are you feeling?”
Clovis did not respond.
“Don’t worry about answering right now. It’s understandable… you have been through a lot.” He touched his arm. “Let’s give him a minute.” Eugene herded everyone out of the room. “We will do our preliminary reports later.”
Clovis leaned forward in a yellowed body that wasn’t his. As he leaned forward, sharp pains shot from his back and spiraled out to his arms and his legs. His missing arm was replaced with a metal bars arranged as fingers that bent when he told them to bend. Vivid details of his life began to randomly flash across his mind: his 5th birthday party at the farm, his high school dance, the bus ride to the docks, the yellow dress of the little girl he found dead in Iraq. The memories were sharper than they had ever been in the past, as if they just happened. All of his thoughts felt as if they had pointed edges on them, including the rage that was welling inside him. He reached his good hand up to feel his heart but there was nothing there. He placed two fingers on his neck but there wasn’t a pulse. He inhaled, but it did not calm him down. He closed his eyes and searched his heart for the warmth of God’s presence, but it was gone.
“Am I no longer human... Am I no longer worthy of His love?” His voice didn’t even sound the same as it used to. It was as if it was someone’s else’s voice. His memories and beliefs were all the same, but everything else had changed. He felt as if he were being pulled apart both physically and spiritually.
He got up out of the bed and wobbled on his legs- one of which was now just metal bars, and began to pace. Each step sent a shockwave of pain through his body; a pain that he ignored. As the herd
of laboratory workers began to file back into his room, Clovis tightened his new metal fingers into a ball and punched one of the workers so hard they smashed against the wall and cracked the drywall.
“Clovis! Stop---” Eugene cried right before Clovis swung his arm down and knocked Eugene’s jaw loose from his skull.
A man charged from behind him and drove a metal bar into his back that sent an electric current through his body. Clovis collapsed into a ball on the floor and the remaining workers shuffled out of the room, carrying the injured with them. They locked the thick glass doors tightly behind them and didn’t open them for almost 10 years.
The workers in the lab would often approach the glass and try and engage Clovis in conversation. Sometimes he would see Eugene walking around the room and engaging with the other scientists. For the first few months, Eugene wore a metal brace around his neck- presumably to aid in the healing of his broken jaw. All of the lab workers would try to engage Clovis in conversation, with the exception of Eugene. Eugene never so much as looked in Clovis’ direction. The lab workers would tell him that if he participated in conversation and was able to prove that he was not a threat to anyone, he would be granted his freedom. But Clovis refused to cooperate. He spent most of those years reading the Bible that they provided to him and praying to a God who wasn’t listening.
It was around the tenth year of his captivity that Clovis had witnessed something unusual happening in the lab. Some of the workers would huddle around the television on the back wall, holding their arms very closely to their chests. Eventually, the number of workers began to decline to the point that days would go by without Clovis seeing a single person.
That is, until the day that Eugene had approached Clovis’ room. At first, Clovis didn’t recognize the man standing before him. He looked as if he had aged almost 40 years. His skin was ashy and yellowed, his hair had fallen out in clumps, his eyes were bloodshot, and he was constantly shaking.
“You are free to go.” He said with a defeated tone as he unlocked the door.
“Why now?” were the first words Clovis had spoken in years.
“Because everyone is dead.” He coughed blood into his hand and wiped it on his jacket. He slid the door open and proceeded down to the next room.
Eugene walked up to each of the locked rooms and began the process of unlocking them. Behind each wall was a room similar to Clovis’ with a person eager to get out.
When he was finished, 6 patients who looked much like Clovis surrounded Eugene. They introduced themselves as Lucy, Dorothy, Walter, Felix, and Ira.
At the end of the line of 7 rooms was a small room with the words “The Wizard of Oz” written on the corresponding chalkboard. Inside was a mangled dog who had almost no hair left, cowering in the corner.
Clovis slowly approached the dog. It let out a whimper that was almost inaudible. “Hey boy, it’s alright. I’m gonna take ya out of here.”
He held out his hand and the dog began to sniff it.
“It’s ok, I’m a good guy,” he tried to assure the dog, although not believing it himself.
The dog continued to sniff his hand, and then began to lick it.
“Good boy…” Clovis smiled and stood upright.
The dog began to wag its tail and followed Clovis out of the laboratory and into the woods.
“An’ that, folks, is my story, and the story of A-IX.” Clovis leaned back in his seat and studied their faces in amusement.
Cole leaned forward in his seat. “Where did you all go after you left the laboratory?”
“They all went home.” Clovis sighed. “I, however, didn’t have a home to go back to… so I came here to this church. I made this my home.”
“So, you mean to tell me that there are more of you out there?”
“Not exactly. I believe that the only one left is Felix. Most of the others killed themselves.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to know you’re going to be here forever and there ain’t no one you care about left to share it with. I tell ya… if I didn’t have old Oz here I’d probably be flirtin’ with endin’ it all too.”
“I don’t understand why they would want to kill themselves. They get to live forever. I can’t even imagine… I fear death every… single… day,” Cole said into the carpet.
Clovis smiled and wagged a gloved finger at him. “You say that now because you have never been on this side of things.”
“But you have nothing to fear. You have no big great unknown ahead of you,” Cole pressed.
“Aye… but imagine it this way: you ever see those contests where they unleash someone in a grocery store and tell them they can gather as much food as possible in 20 minutes?”
“I guess so…”
“They set you loose and ya scamper down every aisle with great intensity. You’re tryin’ to do as much as ya possibly can before the timer runs out. That’s pretty exciting.”
“Yeah…”
“My life, on the other hand… is the same contest… only there’s no buzzer at the end. I can come and go and just sit in the grocery store whenever I’m hungry. The contest don’t make no sense without a buzzer.”
“But it means you get to sample every single item in the---”
“Shut up!” Anna yelled, gripping her coffee mug tightly and smashing it on the floor. “If what you are saying is true about A-IX… then what does that mean for me?”
Chapter 12
Anna walked into the front yard and sat on the porch swing that overlooked the church. The grass in the front yard was tall and wispy, dancing in the breeze. The chains of the swing creaked as she pushed herself backwards on the old wooden floorboards. She tried to clear her mind, but couldn’t shake the feeling that she was wearing someone else’s skin.
The screen door swung open and Clovis leaned up against the house and watched her swing back and forth. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?” He asked.
“I miss my husband. I feel like I want to jump out of my skin right now… and he was really good at talking me off a ledge.”
“What was his name?” Clovis sat in the chair that leaned under the front windows.
“Rick.” She smiled.
“What do you think he would tell you if he was sitting here insteada me?”
She laughed. “We had been through some hard times together but nothing of quite this caliber. What would he say… hmm. What would he say if I came to him and said I was afraid that someone made a copy of me and threw the original copy away? He would probably say ‘who cares?’”
“Really?”
She nodded. “He would probably ask how I was feeling. And I would tell him that I feel fine. And then he would ask me if this new concept impedes on my current quality of life. And I would say that it doesn’t…. Because it doesn’t really. And he would tell me to just forget about it.”
“So, he would tell you just to go home and ignore things?”
She carefully thought about her answer. “I don’t think so. I think he would encourage me to look for answers. But he would urge not to let those answers get to me.”
“He sounds like a reasonable fella.”
“Yeah, you would have liked him. Everyone who knew him loved him.” Anna looked out over the railing of the porch. “I know that everything is different… I know that Rick is most likely gone… hell, the ‘old me’- whatever that means- could most likely be gone. But I have this voice in the back of my head that just doesn’t believe any of it. I just have this feeling that Rick is still out there somewhere. He was so sharp witted and ingenious… I just know he is out there somewhere.”
“I’m not one to argue with women’s intuition.” Clovis laughed. “I remember in high school when I would come home from my friend’s house my mom would just know if we were smoking cigarettes. It’s like she could tell if I was going to do something wrong before I even did it.”
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