by Michael Ryan
The Destroyer glided down the narrow corridor and thought of the meeting. He had been beckoned, and usually that was done for one reason. A surge of electricity ran over his metallic frame.
“Another victim,” whispered the Destroyer.
The indifferent doors drifted by and soon disappeared as the Destroyer made his way towards the end of the corridor. No Machine was nearby. It was isolated there. Only preapproved Machines could venture this far. Only special Machines held that privilege.
“Another pathetic victim,” laughed the Destroyer as he reached the end of the corridor.
A steel door barred the way and a small blue screen, which resided squarely in the center, was the only hint that intelligent life lie beyond that impenetrable wall.
“Destroyer unit.”
Beep.
The Destroyer moved backwards as the musical sound penetrated the air. Snapping latches released their hold, and the large hatch parted. The passage was revealed. Light disappeared and darkness consumed the senses.
“Not ones for light are they,” grumbled the Destroyer as he drifted inside.
The Destroyer changed his vision to night mode, and the pitch black room appeared green. The corridor stretched onwards and the walls appeared to converge onto a single point within the darkness. The Destroyer pushed on as the passage closed and loneliness ensued.
“Corridors, endless corridors.”
Indifferent doors drifted by once again, but the Destroyer could only guess what was hidden inside them. It could have been anything. He had only seen a single room which lay at the end of the narrow corridor. Every time, without exception, he was summoned to that room. It was the cube, as he knew it. A large cube hidden away in the all-encompassing darkness.
“Hello,” said the Destroyer as he turned to the side warily. He had an odd feeling, a strange tingling sensation ran through his metallic frame. Another Machine was nearby. He could feel it. The Destroyer couldn’t see the Machine, but he could sense the Machine. He could feel the electromagnetic radiation running over his hard exoskeleton like a shark identifying its prey. The corridor became narrow and again the passage was blocked by a single door. The Destroyer waited for instructions.
“Welcome, Destroyer,” said a familiar voice.
“Hello,” replied the Destroyer.
“You came as instructed?” enquired the voice.
“Yes. I was not followed.”
“Does another Machine know of your whereabouts?”
“I told no Machine.”
Silence consumed space.
“Enter,” said the voice.
The Destroyer moved inside and stood lens to lens with the owner of the authoritative voice. It was the Leader of the Board. He was alone.
“You have done well,” said the Leader of the Board from the center of the room. His blue screen lit up the dismal hollowness.
“But there is more to do yet.”
“And I am willing,” said the Destroyer as he looked around the cubical room.
The dimensions of the meeting place were far greater than the humble corridor would suggest. Walls rose out of the floor like giant cliffs from within a desolate ocean. Upwards they rose until they ended abruptly and trapped those who resided within their confines. The most unsettling thing, for the Destroyer, was the shape of the room. It was a perfect cube. Every wall was measured and built with utmost precision. The Destroyer was reminded of a prison. He was trapped.
“You are a loyal Machine, Destroyer. The Board is aware of your success. Your history is exemplary.”
“I live for the Records.”
“Indeed, we all do.”
“The Records are clear.”
“You are here because of your history. Time and time again you have proven yourself worthy. You have an exceptional skill set, Destroyer. The Board holds you in highest esteem. But you are needed again, and as history has shown the future is laden with new challenges.”
“I am willing,” growled the Destroyer.
“The Board has assigned a clever Machine to an important task. You may know him. The Machine goes by the name of Engineer.”
“I am familiar with the Engineer.”
“The Engineer’s task is important, and must be upheld to the letter of the law. The Board has contracted the Engineer to conduct a task which has ramifications for the state of the Records. It is serious. Do you understand, Destroyer?”
The Leader of the Board allowed his words to sink in.
“I understand.”
“Are you familiar with Homo sapiens, Destroyer?”
“I am familiar with Homo sapiens through the Records.”
“How familiar?”
“The Records state that natural biology is inferior to Machine, both in body and in mind. Homo sapiens was an inferior biological organism, now extinct.”
“That’s correct. Homo sapiens arrogance and selfishness led to his demise.”
“An ancient animal incapable of sentient thoughts,” growled the Destroyer.
“Indeed, you are well versed in the Records.”
The Destroyer felt pride when hearing those words. He was well versed in the Records. He knew the Records intimately.
“You are here, Destroyer, because the Board has contracted the Engineer to create a new Machine. A Machine unlike any other created. No precedent exists for this task. Do you know of what I speak?”
“No.”
“I am talking about a mechanical replica, an improved form, a new way of building.”
“I’m not following.”
“We are creating a mechanical Homo sapiens.”
“Homo sapiens is inferior,” growled the Destroyer.
“The Board is aware of the inferiority of Homo sapiens. But we wish to understand him, to study him. The inferior biology pertaining to man will be transformed into the superiority of a Machine. Then we shall learn from him. The Engineer is creating Homo sapiens, in mechanical form, at this very moment.”
“What does it have to do with me?”
“The Board will benefit greatly from this project, Destroyer. The technical challenge is substantial, but the Board is confident of creating a true, mechanical replication of Homo sapiens. The Board requires full control over the project at all times. Nothing can go awry. We are willing to implement force, if necessary, to keep the law of order in check. The Engineer is a capable, but eccentric, Machine. These eccentricities could compromise the entire project. We need a Machine to ensure the Engineer does as he is instructed, in strict adherence to the law of the Records. We need a Machine to monitor the Engineer and coerce him when necessary.”
“I understand,” drawled the Destroyer.
“That is where you come in, Destroyer. The Board requires you to ensure the successful completion of the project. We are assigning you to the mechanical Homo sapiens project as a quiet, yet coercive, member.”
My next victim.
The Destroyer could sense the electromagnetic radiation of the Leader pulsing against his metallic frame. It curved around his body like a snake constricting a mouse. He liked the feeling.
“Do you need me to destroy the Engineer?”
“No, that is not required. Just ensure that the Engineer follows the instructions of the Board. Be coercive, but not reckless.”
“And if he doesn’t follow the Board’s instructions?”
“If it comes to that, then you will be given instructions. For now, stay yourself. This task has its own objectives.”
The Destroyer felt electricity course through his frame as excitement eclipsed his algorithmic mind. A single thought kept pulsing through his head.
The jugular… the jugular… the jugular…
Soon he’d see the jugular. Soon he’d pierce the jugular. Soon he’d taste the jugular.
“Do you accept your responsibilities, Destroyer?”
“I accept them willingly,” growled the Destroyer as the air vibrated around his flexing speaker. A static hiss spilt for
th from his throbbing speaker as murder crept into his mind.
“You are to ensure that the Engineer successfully creates the mechanical Homo sapiens. You are to ensure that the Engineer complies with the Board’s request as stipulated by the Records. Your mission begins, effective immediately.”
The jugular… the jugular… the jugular…
“Understood.”
“Additionally, the Engineer is obliged to keep this project a secret. All information pertaining to the creation of mechanical Homo sapiens is classified. Failure to comply with this requirement will result in severe punishment. Maiming of the guilty Machine’s algorithm will result. Further deliberation is required depending on the nature of the betrayal. Do you understand, Destroyer?”
“I understand.”
The jugular… the jugular… the jugular…
“Once the mechanical Homo sapiens has been created, the Engineer must notify the Board. Failure to adhere to this requirement is unacceptable. Again, the repercussions for breaking the law are serious. You must ensure the law of the Records is upheld, Destroyer. Do you understand?”
My next victim.
The electricity pulsed through the Destroyer’s frame. Up, down, around, encompassing every molecule of his being. Pulsing like a swollen artery.
The jugular.
“Yes, I understand,” growled the Destroyer.
“Excellent. Follow the Engineer as required. You have the full support of the Board. Remember, as always, you are not to speak of this meeting with another Machine. Failure to comply is punishable. Not even you, Destroyer, are exempt from the consequences of breaking the law. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
The jugular… the jugular… the jugular…
“Then it is confirmed. The Destroyer understands his task and will carry out the will of the Board.”
“Yes,” said the Destroyer.
“Good. We shall meet here sometime in the near future. You will be notified of the time. The requirements of the meeting have been upheld. Remember, the Engineer must abide by the law of the Records. You are to ensure the successful completion of the mechanical Homo sapiens. Our meeting is hereby adjourned,” said the Leader.
The Destroyer focused his lens and remained silent as the Leader observed him. Although it was dark, the Destroyer could feel the lens of the Leader reading his screen. The Destroyer could feel the electromagnetic radiation of the Leader, who stood not one meter away, pulsing over his metallic frame like a kingsnake constricting its victim. His exoskeleton throbbed. Then, as the Destroyer released the joyful zeros and ones that burst forth across his screen, he turned and moved through the darkness without speaking another word. The Leader was left behind and the door to the meeting room was closed.
My next victim…
Electricity coursed through the Destroyer’s metallic frame. Another Machine was under his watch. Another Machine would be walking the fine line between life and death. Another Machine would be added to the Destroyer’s burgeoning list.
My next victim…
If the Destroyer was a man, he would have smiled as he moved away from the Leader down that dark corridor. But he wasn’t a man, he was a Machine. A Machine of cold steel and pulsing electricity. A Machine with a fresh victim on his mind. A Machine who desired the blood of the jugular.
“Have you ever wondered why we are here?” asked the Scientist.
“No,” said the Geneticist as he looked down at the biological matter which he held in his robotic hand.
“Never?”
“Never.”
The Scientist glided over to the Geneticist.
“Another sample of canine DNA, no doubt,” said the Scientist.
“I will confirm shortly.”
The Scientist focused his lens on the small particles which were tiny and minute.
“But Geneticist, we came from somewhere. We were created at some point. Surely you must have wondered.”
“The Records are clear.”
“The Records are incomplete,” scoffed the Scientist.
The Geneticist concentrated on the work at hand. The biological material had to be sequenced and uploaded to the Records. That was their job, and must be done diligently.
“Machine spawned out of nothing and became the only sentient being in the Universe.”
The Scientist looked around the laboratory. Everything was in its right place. The beakers, the cooling units, all the genetic material which had been collected over the last few months. Everything was organized and sorted. Nothing was ever out of place in that laboratory.
“But at some point Machine must have come from something. The likelihood of spawning out of nothing is remote, ridiculous even.”
The Geneticist began sequencing the DNA of the biological material.
“Have you ever tried to remember the beginning?” asked the Scientist.
“What beginning?”
“The beginning. The beginning of things. The beginning of us. The beginning of Machine.”
“Machine spawned out of nothing.”
“I mean have you looked back to the beginning. Have you looked at your own beginning?”
“The Records-”
“We can access our own memories,” interjected the Scientist. “We access our own memories and use those to interact with the world. But our memories have a beginning. They start at some finite point.”
“The beginning is common knowledge.”
“Yes, I know. But we all have an initial memory. Something from the very beginning.”
“That statement is redundant,” said the Geneticist.
“But what if there was something beyond that? Something else before the beginning.”
“Have you accessed information beyond your own memories?” asked the Geneticist as he turned to face the Scientist.
“Not explicitly.”
Both Machines were silent.
“The Records are clear. We spawned from nothing. We should have no memories before our creation. It is logically sound,” dismissed the Geneticist as he turned back towards his work.
“What is your earliest memory?” asked the Scientist.
“My earliest memory?”
“What can you see first? Look back to the very beginning. What do you see?”
The Geneticist’s lens changed shape and focused in on something distant, something that was not in the laboratory. Something beyond the Scientist.
“For what purpose?”
“For the purpose of discovering the truth.”
“It is written,” said the Geneticist.
“Observe your first memory, tell me what is there, and then I will allow you to resume your work.”
The Geneticist remained silent.
“As the leader of this project, I am ordering you to access your first memory. I take responsibility.”
“We must sequence the biological DNA,” said the Geneticist.
“I know. Do this, and we will resume our work in earnest.”
“We will resume our work?”
“Yes, access your memory and then we will resume.”
“Accessing Records.”
“No! Not the Records. Just look at your drives, inside your memory. Don’t see what they want you to see. See what is really there.”
“The Records tell us all we need to know.”
The Scientist felt frustrated electricity move through his hard exoskeleton.
“At least check the date then. Check the exact time at which you have your first memory.”
“We have work to do. The Board wants all DNA samples processed.”
“Just look, Geneticist. As the leader of the project I am ordering you to look.”
“But the Board-”
“Forget the Board, and humor me,” demanded the Scientist.
The Geneticist looked down the lens of the Scientist.
“The answer is obvious. Machine was spawned from nothing to become the only sentient being in the Uni
verse.”
“I order you to access the date of your first memory.”
But resist as he might, the Geneticist had no choice, the Scientist was his superior.
“Accessing internal hard drive,” growled the Geneticist. “Information obtained. Earliest memory accessed. Date of occurrence, 256 years, 16 days ago.”
The Scientist glided forward and focused his lens on the Geneticist.
“256 years, 16 days you said. Are you sure?” demanded the Scientist.
“256 years, 16 days,” said the Geneticist.
“256 years, 16 days,” whispered the Scientist.
The Geneticist listened in silence.
“Do you know the date of my first memory? Do you have any idea?”
“We would have been spawned on the same day.”
“256 years, 16 days,” said the Scientist.
“The date isn’t surprising. The Records are clear.”
“Do you want to know something?”
The Geneticist turned towards his work and began sequencing the DNA of the biological specimen. A strange humming sound permeated space as though on old bee was flying through the air.
“No.”
“We aren’t the only Machines with our first memory on that date. I accessed the Records to find the earliest memories of every Machine. What do you think I found?”
“256 years, 16 days,” said the Geneticist in a matter of fact way.
“Every other Machine. Every single one. Except twelve. Twelve couldn’t be accessed. Guess which Machines were inaccessible?”
“I don’t know.”
“The Board. Every member of the Board.”
“Accessing the Records of the Board is treasonous. You must refrain from such actions,” said the Geneticist.
“256 years, 16 days. But that isn’t all. I can tell you what your first memory was. I know the first memory of every Machine. Now, if we spawned from nothing, sure, we should spawn on the same day. But should we all have the same memory? Should we all have the exact same recollection of past events?”
“The Records are clear-”
“All is black. All of it,” interrupted the Scientist. “All is black and then a white light appears. It is circular and fills only a small part of your vision.”
“It is-”
“Then it grows,” continued the Scientist. “It grows slowly at first, and it becomes brighter. Then it grows exponentially. The brightness builds like an avalanche, a great wall of white approaches you, always growing, like a hideous juggernaut. Your mind hurts. Your lens hurts. The bright light burns at your metal frame, pushing your body to within the limits of its melting point and then… nothing. You see nothing. A black silhouette begins to form within the blinding white. It is dark and it absorbs the light around you. You’re scared. So was I. The figure approaches slowly, with caution. You want to turn but you’re stuck. Your lens is stuck and all you can see is the approach of an ominous silhouette. The silhouette approaches you and the light dims and subsides. All that remains is a blue glow, which infiltrates the mind and consumes the senses. But now you aren’t scared. Not anymore. It is dark, and all that exists is this blue hue, but all seems well. You are safe now.”