by Michael Ryan
The Scientist looked around in a drunken stupor.
“The stipulation is clear. The Records are clear. It is written,” muttered the Scientist.
“The Board will schedule a meeting within the next few days to discuss the protocol to be followed in the systematic study of the female Homo sapiens. You are required at that meeting, Scientist. Understood?”
“Understood.”
The Scientist’s speaker flexed under the weight of a thousand thoughts which materialized within his mind. But he said nothing.
“Good. Remember Scientist, the Board expects full compliance with the law of the Records. Any deviations from this stipulation will be considered unacceptable and will amount to high treason.”
The Scientist looked down as he battled to control the zeros and ones which littered his screen. If the Board could see his inner thoughts then punishment would surely follow.
“Does any Board member have any further questions?” asked the Leader.
The semi-circle of Machines remained silent. They all observed the world through cold and indifferent lenses.
“At present the Board has no further questions,” said the Leader. “The meeting is hereby adjourned. Next meeting will commence as per scheduled. The Board disassembles.”
The Machines of the Board moved off and disappeared through a door behind each member. They floated away with only the faintest noise which drifted past the screen of the Scientist. Then they were gone. The Scientist lingered for a moment, alone in the dark, and allowed his thoughts to materialize on his screen. In the utter obscurity of complete darkness, the Scientist was left to contemplate his remarkable luck.
Eve will live.
The thought kept bouncing around in his algorithmic mind.
Eve will live.
“I am the resurrection come again,” the Scientist whispered to himself as he fell into a deep trance.
“I am the resurrection come again.”
The Scientist glided around his room with little control. He let his metallic frame drift about aimlessly as the despair that coursed through his metallic frame pushed his mind into a blur. The dead animals looked out indifferently from their glass prisons. The Scientist couldn’t stand the sight of them. They all seemed to accuse him of their murder, they all seemed to hate him. They all seemed to believe that the Scientist maimed the Geneticist. They judged the Scientist. It was he who had blown out the Geneticist’s robotic brains.
“I have betrayed the Geneticist! I have betrayed him!” lamented the Scientist.
The preserved animals shook in their glass prisons as the sound of the Scientist’s voice bounced from jar to jar.
“I have betrayed my friend!” exclaimed the Scientist as he drifted about without purpose. His fragile speaker hissed and groaned like a wild animal mourning the loss of its child.
“I have lost something,” said the Scientist. “I have lost something.”
The Scientist stopped in front of his preserved snake. Its eyes stared out at the world menacingly. Even though it was long dead, the fierceness in its eyes remained. It still wanted blood. It wanted to strangle its own kind.
“But I have gained something,” whispered the Scientist. “I have gained my Eve.”
The Scientist looked down at the floor. A smear reflected the blue light oddly, as though it was polished. The snake seemed to look down at the same smear.
“Odd,” whispered the Scientist as he focused his lens on the spot on the floor. The blue light of the Scientist’s screen flashed and reflected as though it was shining on oil. The Scientist reached out with his robotic arm and stopped just above the slick patch.
“A Machine’s oil.”
With a quick flick the Scientist ran his robotic hand through the oily patch and held the substance close to his lens.
“But it doesn’t belong to me,” said the Scientist as the reflection of a Machine appeared within the eyes of the kingsnake.
“Scientist?” asked the Machine which stood in the doorway.
“Yes,” said the Scientist through a shaking speaker.
“Are you the Scientist?”
“How is it possible?”
“I’ve got something for you,” the Machine said and glided further into the Scientist’s room.
The light spilled in around his metallic frame and the Scientist drifted backwards into the glass jars against the wall. A glass jar with an imprisoned scorpion rocked back and forth until it fell through the air, dragged down by gravity, and smashed into a billion molecules.
“Geneticist!” screamed the Scientist in a sickening high pitch.
The Machine stared blankly.
“You are alive!” exclaimed the Scientist.
But the Geneticist just looked at the Scientist.
“What is the Geneticist?”
The Scientist looked on, speechless and unsure of what to say.
“You! You are the Geneticist!”
“I am the Rubbish unit,” replied the Geneticist after an awkward silence.
The Scientist glided over to the Machine and focused his lens. The Scientist was certain. The lens looked different, as though it had been recently replaced. And the Machine’s speaker sounded odd and was starting to show bad signs of rust, but it was him. It was the Scientist’s partner. It was the Geneticist.
“No you are not! You are the Geneticist!”
The Geneticist moved his lens from side to side as he observed the Scientist. He tried to read the Scientist’s screen, but that only confused him more.
“I am the Rubbish unit,” replied the Geneticist.
“You are Lazarus. You are raised from the dead.”
The Geneticist just stared. The Scientist extended his robotic arm and clasped down on the Geneticist’s metallic frame.
“The one who believes in me will live even though they die!” exclaimed the Scientist.
The zeros and ones which flashed across the Geneticist’s screen revealed his confusion.
“I am the resurrection come again.”
“I am the Rubbish unit.”
“No, you are the Geneticist!”
“I am the Rubbish unit. I collect scrap.”
“No, you are the Geneticist!” screamed the Scientist as he clamped down on the Geneticist’s metallic frame.
“Please, Scientist, you are penetrating my shell.”
“You are the Geneticist!”
But the Geneticist didn’t understand what the Scientist meant. He couldn’t comprehend it.
“You are the Geneticist,” moaned the Scientist as he released the Geneticist’s metallic frame.
The Geneticist looked on blankly.
“You are the Geneticist!” screamed the Scientist. “You are the Geneticist!”
“I am the Rubbish unit.”
“You are the Geneticist!”
The Scientist smashed his robotic arm through the preserved remains of a spider. Its soft body exploded in unison with the glass jar. Its guts spread over the floor.
“See here! See? That is you, on the floor. It must be. Whatever happened to you it happened in this room,” pleaded the Scientist.
“I am the Rubbish unit. I collect scrap.”
“No you aren’t. You don’t collect metal. You’re the Geneticist.”
The Geneticist unit watched the Scientist in silence. Zeros and ones flashed across the Geneticist’s screen and revealed his fear.
“I am the Rubbish unit.”
“What are you doing here? Why are you here?” growled the Scientist. “Are you here to haunt me?”
“I have found something for you, Scientist. I have found something.”
“You are nothing more than a shell. A maimed Machine. You’re dead. You shouldn’t even know who I am. Why are you here?”
“I have found something for you, Scientist. I have found something.”
“What? What? Don’t you get it? You are a maimed Machine. You are as good as dead. Get out of here! I said get out!”
/> “But I brought something for you, Scientist. I have brought something for you. I think you want this.”
The Scientist drifted backwards into the wall of glass jars which housed the hideous monsters. The Scientist felt like the room was bending. It was bending into his body. The room was curling into his mind.
Have I been compromised?
“I have found something for you, Scientist. I have found something.”
“The Board, they test me. They test me now. Is that what this is? Tell me Geneticist, is that what this is?”
The Geneticist just stared blankly.
“I brought you something.”
The Scientist glided over to the Geneticist, who only knew himself as the Rubbish unit, and clasped his metallic shell.
“Get out Geneticist!”
“But I brought you something.”
“I said get out!” screamed the Scientist as he forced the Geneticist towards the door.
“Here, see?” said the Geneticist as he held out his robotic arm.
The Scientist stopped immediately and drifted backwards. He almost collapsed in shock.
“Where did you find that?” demanded the Scientist.
“In the rubbish.”
“Do you know what that is?”
“I don’t know what it is, Scientist. I just thought you would want it.”
“And you brought it here alone? Does anyone know you have this?”
“No, Scientist. Only I know about it.”
The Scientist quickly glided to the door and looked outside. No Machine lurked out there. No Machine waited in the corridor. The Scientist sent out an electromagnetic signal and shut the door.
“You’ve done the right thing, Geneticist. Now place the book in the black box there,” demanded the Scientist.
“Book?” asked the Geneticist as he dropped the book on the floor from fear.
“Relax, Geneticist. Relax. It will not harm you, despite what the Records state.”
The Scientist glided over to the book and reached out with his robotic arm.
“Integrated circuit design,” whispered the Scientist as he focused his lens on the cover of the ancient text. “Integrated circuit design.”
The Scientist picked up the book, glided across his room and placed it within a black box behind the dead snake.
“You are not to tell any Machine of what has transpired here. No Machine must know. Do you understand?”
“But the Records state…”
“They will maim you. They will maim your mind again.”
The fear that moved across the Geneticist’s screen revealed the Board’s hold on his mind. His algorithm had been maimed, but the knowledge of the Board remained strong and clear.
“Ok, Scientist. Just you and me, Scientist.”
The Scientist focused his lens on the Geneticist. Now he had no doubt. The Geneticist genuinely thought he was a Rubbish unit. His mind was fried. He was lost for all eternity.
“The one who believes in me will live, even though they die. Whoever lives by believing in me will never die.”
The Geneticist shifted nervously.
“I am the resurrection come again,” whispered the Scientist.
“Pardon?” the Geneticist squeezed out of his speaker.
“It is better that one man die for the people than the whole nation perish,” whispered the Scientist. “Wouldn’t you agree, Geneticist?”
The Geneticist focused his lens on the strange animals which lay twisted and deformed in their glass prisons.
“You have a strange room, Scientist.”
“Get out now. Go. It’s time for you to leave.”
“These are all dead animals?” asked the Geneticist as he moved his lens across the room.
“If you find a book again, be sure to bring it to me directly. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“I will pay you for your troubles.”
“Ok, Scientist. I’ll bring the book, Scientist.”
“Now go, before we are discovered.”
The Scientist ushered the Geneticist unit towards the door.
“Until next time, Rubbish unit.”
“Bye, Scientist. Good bye.”
The Scientist shut the door in the face of the Rubbish unit.
A guttural and excruciated wail was released from the Scientist’s speaker.
“Geneticist!” the Scientist screamed as he drifted around aimlessly. A fever had taken control of his mind.
“I’ll never forget your sacrifice, Geneticist. I’ll never forget.”
The dead animals stared at the Scientist, at the betrayer.
“Homo sapiens will walk the Earth again because of you, Geneticist. You have changed the course of history. Now you are a God.”
Eve looked around with wide eyes. The room was dim. Eve was afraid. She could hear the Machine talking, but the noise was incomprehensible, the words didn’t make sense. The Machine’s whispers sent a shiver down Eve’s spine and made her arms cross tightly.
“The one who believes in me will live, even though they die. Whoever lives by believing in me will never die,” whispered the Scientist as he observed Eve in a shroud of darkness. The only light which brightened the room came from the flashing screen of the Scientist. The dismal blue light cast his metallic frame in an unnatural hue, like a ghoul risen from the bowels of the earth.
“It is better that one man die for the people than the whole nation perish,” whispered the Scientist.
Eve cowered backwards as the Scientist’s speaker flexed and groaned. Eve wanted to cry, but her mind was too stressed to allow it. So she held her knees against her body and looked out across the dark room, hoping and waiting. The blue light from the Scientist’s screen illuminated Eve’s blood red eyes like a wild animal cowering in fear under the ominous light of a full moon.
“She must have a sentient mind. She must. Homo sapiens cannot be like every other animal.”
Eve leaned her body backwards, further away from the obscured Machine.
“Eve… Eve… Eve…” whispered the Scientist as zeros and ones littered his screen.
“Do you remember, Eve? Do you remember what happened to you?”
Eve placed her hand behind her back and moved her naked ass across the cold floor. She moved away from the strange noises made by the ghoulish Machine. She moved away until her back rested against the far wall. She was cold.
“You don’t remember, Eve. You don’t know. It is retrograde amnesia, Eve. It must be. Homo sapiens is a sentient being. I know it’s true. It must be true.”
Eve pulled her knees into her body until her naked breasts ached from the pressure exerted by her thighs.
“You are unable to retrieve your memories. Your brain is faulty. But it doesn’t matter, because I know the truth. It doesn’t matter because there will be others. There will be others who are not faulty. I will create the others, Eve. I will create Adam.”
Zeros and ones exploded across the Scientist’s screen as he thought about Adam, as he thought about a male Homo sapiens. Eve could feel salty tears accumulating in the sides of her eyes.
“I will create Adam for I am the resurrection come again,” whispered the Scientist.
Eve didn’t understand. Language meant nothing to her brain. All was blank.
“You were frozen, Eve. You were frozen by those of your own race. It couldn’t have been the work of Machine. That’s preposterous. It’s ridiculous. The integrated circuit, Eve. That ancient text, it spoke of the integrated circuit. Your mind created my mind, Eve. Your mind created Machine. My mechanical algorithm is an extension of your biological algorithm. My bits are your DNA,” said the Scientist as though in a drunken stupor.
The wetness in Eve’s eyes accumulated and spilled free from the cusp of flesh that held it aloft. It rolled downwards, pulled by gravity until it penetrated Eve’s faint and blood red lips. The tear tasted salty and hateful. Eve couldn’t understand what it was that observed her
through the dark.
“I am the resurrection come again.”
Eve let the tears fall freely from her eyes.
“The one who believes in me will live, even though they die. Whoever lives by believing in me will never die.”
The blue light created by the Scientist’s zeros and ones drowned the room.
“Eve… Eve… Eve…” whispered the Scientist.
Eve tried to sink into the cold wall behind her back. She tried to escape, she tried to get out, but she couldn’t. The wall stood firm like a towering jailhouse. Eve’s eyes were transfixed to the dim lens of the Scientist. That lens shined queerly. Eve knew that something behind that lens thought. Something behind that lens observed her. But Eve couldn’t understand how it was possible. It shouldn’t be possible.
“Eve… Eve… Eve…” whispered the Scientist.
That strange sound kept coming forth from the strange creature. Eve couldn’t understand the meaning of the word. Her mind couldn’t comprehend it. But the sound had implanted itself, claw by claw, within her mind. She would never forget it.
Eve… Eve…Eve…
The sound bounced around in Eve’s skull and haunted her mind’s eye, swooping down at her consciousness. Gnawing at her skull.
“Eve… Eve… Eve,” whispered the Scientist.
Eve rocked back and forth as the strange Machine mumbled and groaned and observed his creation through the dark. The Scientist watched Eve, he admired Eve, and he adored Eve. With her naked breasts placed firmly against her chest, Eve looked into the darkness, afraid and alone, with a single word sounding within the depths of her mind.
Eve… Eve… Eve…
Part Three
Several years earlier…