by Michael Ryan
“But that is only one biological machine which belonged to Homo sapiens. Lots of bits and pieces were automated. Nature created man without the hassle of thinking of something as trivial as a heartbeat. The senses were freed for other tasks. Smelling, seeing, feeling, touching, even tasting. A strange thing taste. Animals, you see my child, had all these tiny structures over a muscle, called the tongue, which could be extruded from the mouth. Like this one,” said the Engineer as he opened the jaw of the mechanical Homo sapiens. A silver tongue was revealed.
“Salty, sour, bitter, and sweet they called them. The taste buds contained these receptors. Tiny structures they are, located on the surface of the tongue, soft palate, upper esophagus, the cheek, and epiglottis. Don’t worry too much about the names, you’ll learn about those soon enough. And do you know how many taste buds Homo sapiens had?”
The mechanical Homo sapiens stared out into space, without life.
“That’s right, up to eight thousand. Imagine that. Eight thousand receptors on that little tongue of yours. I won’t do it this time. I haven’t figured it all out yet. But next time, in the second prototype, I’m going to give you taste buds. I’m going to give you taste buds so you can tell me what things taste like. The floor, the door, the air. All of it. I wonder what they must taste like.”
The Engineer moved his robotic arm across the polished steel of his creation.
“But do you know a secret? I’m going to give you more than eight thousand. I’m going to give you hundreds of thousands. You’ll be able to taste the air if you wanted to. Like a snake. Do you know about a snake?”
The Engineer’s blue screen illuminated the face of the mechanical Homo sapiens. In the reflection of the Homo sapiens red eyes the Engineer looked bent and twisted as he looked down upon his beautiful creation.
“The snake has a tongue too, but his is more versatile, more amazing. It’s marvelous really. The snake can smell with his tongue. It’s pure joy to think of. The snake has such an advanced system that it can smell with enormous precision. But it doesn’t end there. The snake has a forked tongue, which means it divides into two at the end. This is a very useful piece of engineering. You see, having a forked tongue allows the snake to determine the direction of the smell. Marvelous, no? It can determine a smell and the smell’s direction. Quite extraordinary.”
The Engineer allowed a satisfied laugh to escape his speaker.
“The Records have all of this. It is marvelous. But one thing I want, I don’t have. The Records have all sorts of other animals, but not yours I am afraid. If I had your DNA sequence, my child, think of the knowledge I could get from that. Think of the engineering I could do with that. Just think of it. I could do some marvelous things with your DNA. But things are as they are, and it is best we just get on with the job at hand. Speaking of which, let’s get to work.”
The Engineer focused his lens on the exposed circuit board.
“Oh and one more thing. Do you-”
“Engineer!” called a voice from outside the door of the laboratory.
The Engineer remained silent.
“Engineer!” called the voice again.
“Who is it?” whispered the Engineer to the mechanical Homo sapiens.
“Engineer, it’s me, the Scientist.”
The Engineer looked at the mechanical Homo sapiens as a flood of zeros and ones littered his screen.
“What do they want with us?”
“Engineer, it’s the Scientist.”
“I don’t know a Scientist!” screamed the Engineer.
“I saw you just yesterday,” said the Scientist from the other side of the door.
“What do you want?”
“I want to talk to you.”
“I’m busy. Come back some other time,” screamed the Engineer. His voice faltered and screeched towards the end of his sentence.
“I must see you now. It’s urgent.”
The Engineer looked around the room and tried to think of a way to hide his creation.
“I have something you will be very interested in,” said the Scientist.
“What is it?”
“Let me in first. I promise, it’s worth your while.”
The Engineer began gliding around his room, and smashed into a pile of scrap metal which fell in a heap and sent a sound wave bouncing aggressively around the room. The metal scattered in a dozen different directions.
“OK, one moment. One moment.”
The Engineer looked about the room.
“I have to hide you,” whispered the Engineer.
The mechanical Homo sapiens looked out at the world without life.
“Here,” said the Engineer.
The Engineer moved across his lab and retrieved a tray with rusted wheels.
“I’ll put you on top, my child,” whispered the Engineer as he lifted the mechanical Homo sapiens onto the tray.
“Just another minute!” screamed the Engineer as he slid the tray out of sight behind a large metal case across the room. The Engineer then returned to the middle of the room and, once convinced of the security of his creation, turned towards the laboratory door.
“OK, now. Come in then, Scientist,” said the Engineer as he released the hatch and the laboratory door slid open.
The Scientist assumed an odd pose at the door, as though preparing to protect himself.
“Is it safe?” asked the Scientist.
“Safe? Come in then,” said the Engineer.
The Scientist glided inside and stood near the middle of the laboratory.
“How are you?” asked the Scientist.
“Why are you here?” demanded the Engineer.
The Scientist focused his lens on the clear space in the middle of the room.
“Where is your Homo sapiens?” asked the Scientist.
“What Homo sapiens?”
“The mechanical Homo sapiens you showed me yesterday.”
An explosion of zeros and ones crawled across the Engineer’s screen.
“How do you know about my Machine?”
“I was here yesterday. Don’t you recall?”
The Engineer began drifting about the room aimlessly.
“He knows, another Machine knows,” mumbled the Engineer. “They said to inform no one. Not a single Machine.”
“It’s ok, Engineer. I have kept it to myself, and that is the way it shall be maintained,” said the Scientist.
“Not a single Machine they said.”
“I have come here with a purpose, Engineer. You need to listen to me. You need to hear me. You should close the door, Engineer. We should be discreet, if you understand.”
“What? Why?”
“Shall I shut the door then?” asked the Scientist.
“Only I can,” screeched the Engineer as the laboratory door began sliding sideways. The door shut with a loud snap as the hatch locked into place.
“Not another Machine they said.”
“You must listen to me, Engineer.”
“What do you want? Be forthright,” demanded the Engineer.
“Try to be calm, Engineer. We have much more in common than you think. Our algorithms are aligned. I am here to help, not to harm.”
The Engineer had stopped drifting aimlessly and now stood in the very spot in which the mechanical Homo sapiens had been positioned only a moment ago.
“Well?”
“Well, I am aware of your desire to create a mechanical Homo sapiens. Please, be calm,” said the Scientist as the Engineer began drifting backwards. “Your task is safe with me. Please, remain calm.”
The Engineer drifted momentarily and then recovered himself.
“You are trying to recreate a mechanical Homo sapiens, an impressive task. But all you have to go off is the Records, and any Machine with an ounce of intelligence knows how difficult that must be. The information obtained from the Records is incomplete at best. The Records are clear, but they are not encompassing. If only there was more information, then your t
ask would be greatly simplified. Would you agree?”
The Engineer said nothing, but he was listening.
“What would really be beneficial, what would really help, is if you had an algorithm. A biological algorithm, that is, which gave you the code of life. What you need is Homo sapiens DNA.”
“No Homo sapiens DNA exists within the Records,” scoffed the Engineer.
“You are correct, Engineer. No Homo sapiens DNA exists within the Records. But, what if I was to say that I had the information. What if I told you that I had a copy of sequenced Homo sapiens DNA?”
“I would accuse you of being a liar,” said the Engineer.
“But if I could prove it?”
“Then you’re in violation of the law of the Records. All information must be uploaded,” said the Engineer.
“But that’s a poor strategy indeed. Because if you think about it, why is it that we do not have an existing sequence of Homo sapiens DNA? Doesn’t it seem likely, given billions of Homo sapiens walked the Earth, that we would have found a specimen by now?”
The Engineer was silent.
“Exactly,” continued the Scientist. “You’re a Machine of reason, the statistics cannot be ignored. If I sequence the DNA and upload it to the Records, can I guarantee that it will be there for all Machines to see? Unlikely. The Board would restrict access, and it would fall into obscurity. That would benefit neither of us.”
“Not another Machine they said.”
“Are you listening to me?” asked the Scientist.
“Do you really have it?” demanded the Engineer.
“Indeed, I have it with me at this very moment,” said the Scientist.
The Engineer glided forward.
“Show it then!”
The Scientist moved backwards.
“One moment, Engineer. Not so fast. I have the DNA, sure. But this is a valuable commodity. A Machine must expect something in return for something so valuable.”
The Engineer stopped and closely observed the Scientist.
“Like what?” asked the Engineer.
“You are a capable Machine. The best Engineer I know of. But you’re only as good as the data at your disposal. The mechanical Homo sapiens, he is impressive, but clearly he is only a fraction of what he could be. With the Homo sapiens DNA, you could create something truly magical. You could create a biological species. You would be like a God.”
The Engineer focused his lens on the Scientist with great intent.
“A God?” whispered the Engineer.
“A God,” said the Scientist.
Both Machines looked at each other. Both screens were a mad blur of zeros and ones.
“But I need something in return, Engineer. I need something from you. I need the truth. I need to know what it means.”
“What it means?”
“I want access to my memories. Not the memories that I already have. Not the memories of the Board. I mean the memories that are truly my own.”
The Engineer disengaged his lens and began drifting about the room.
“Machine was spawned from nothing. We all came from nothing. We all began at the same time. Not another Machine they said,” rambled the Engineer.
“256 years, 16 days ago. Every Machine has the same beginning date, the same first memory.”
“You are wasting your time. You are indulging fantasy,” scoffed the Engineer.
“But there was something before this. I believe there must have been something before this. You’re a talented engineer. You are capable of remarkable feats.”
“I’m not a criminal.”
“Can it be done?”
“What?” barked the Engineer.
“Can you retrieve my deleted memories?”
“Not another Machine they said.”
The Scientist emitted a frustrated groan from his speaker as the Engineer’s fragmented mind unraveled.
“Do you know what they will do to me? Do you have any idea?” demanded the Engineer.
“Only you and I will know. No other Machine will know.”
The Engineer continued to drift around the laboratory.
“Solid state,” the Engineer mumbled to himself. “Solid state… forensic… residual patterns. Not another Machine they said!”
“Can you do it, Engineer? Is it possible?”
“There was a task,” rambled the Engineer as he addressed the air surrounding his metallic frame. “There was a task I was assigned to, a tricky task. A task from before. A Machine, he had his algorithm maimed. Terrible. His mind was almost destroyed. He was cast off to some remote and terrible place. Away from here. But then the Board. The Board decided that they needed the Machine again. They needed the hardware. So they contracted me. They got me to do it. They got me. I recovered the Machine’s memories, I fixed the memories in just the way that they wanted.”
The Scientist’s lens focused on the Engineer who drifted back and forth.
“Of course I did. I did it. I did it just like they said. Not another Machine they said. But I found something strange. Something out of place. The overridden memories. They weren’t gone. They were there. I did it. Not visible with any of the technology that we had available. I created it from scratch. And I recovered every single memory. That Machine had other memories. At the atomic level, bit by bit.”
“So you have done it?” asked the Scientist.
The Engineer stopped and focused his lens on the screen of the Scientist.
“I can still do it. I was to destroy the technology, and I did. But you see, my child, my children must live on. Do you see? My children must live. The beautiful things, they have to survive. It has to survive in some form. Do you see?”
“I don’t understand.”
“I have a copy, hidden, you see? For years it has been hidden here. Perilous it is.”
“My memory in exchange for Homo sapiens DNA sequence,” said the Scientist.
The Engineer drifted over to his hidden mechanical Homo sapiens and pulled it into the open.
“We will burn for this,” said the Engineer as he stared at his creation.
“I am willing,” said the Scientist.
“Not another Machine,” said the Engineer as he reached out with his robotic arm and stroked the metallic face of the mechanical Homo sapiens.
“80 beats a minute, 100,000 times a day, 35 million times a year, 3.5 billion times in a life,” said the Engineer as he moved his robotic arm over the mechanical Homo sapiens chest cavity. “My children must live.”
“With this DNA your child will live, Engineer.”
“3.5 billion beats in a lifetime.”
“So will you do it?”
The Engineer turned and faced the Scientist.
“My children must live, Scientist. My children must live.”
The Engineer stared out the open door of his laboratory. The Scientist had just left with the memory retrieval device, and that device could mean the end of the Engineer. He had taken on an enormous risk, and now the burden felt as though it was resting upon his metallic shoulders. The weight was like a boulder, ready to crumble his metallic frame into the laboratory floor.
“What secrets can you reveal?” asked the Engineer as he poured over the Homo sapiens DNA sequence. All 3 billion base pairs of it. The Engineer moved towards his creation.
“Come here, my child.”
The mechanical Homo sapiens looked at the world with blank, red eyes.
“I have your secrets, my child. I have your secrets,” whispered the Engineer. “You will be perfect yet. A perfection. I will perfect you in every sense. Not with the faults of man, but the virtues of Machine. You will be an improved species. A mechanical evolution.”
The Engineer moved his robotic arm over the mechanical Homo sapiens exposed chest cavity. Then he looked about the room, and placed the Homo sapiens DNA sequence, which was stored on a drive which looked like a long cable, into the cavity.
“See, a safe place. A safe place for you
and me. It’ll be for us only. Not for the obscurity of the Records. For you and me, man and Machine. I’ll hide your DNA inside your chest. So clever.”
The Engineer lifted the metal plate and placed it over the cavity. The high velocity screeching of a drill soon secured the first screw in place.
“A perfect man you’ll be. A perfect Machine. A perfect sentient being, surpassing all others. You will, do you know that?” asked the Engineer.
The second screw began squirming its way through the metallic flesh. The top of the plate was now secured.
“Remember what I was saying? The taste buds. The taste buds are tricky. They are beyond us. But not now. They aren’t. I will figure it out, my child. I will understand your structure. I will understand your biological algorithm. You will smell the air. Remember, 3.5 billion heart beats in a lifetime.”
The Engineer secured the third screw into the bottom left corner.
“Last one, then our secret is safe. Just you and me, my child. You and me and the taste buds.”
The final screw was secured and the Engineer allowed his affection for his Machine to materialize on his screen.
“You and me and 3.5 billion heart beats,” said the Engineer as he drifted backwards.
“You and me and–”
Bang.
The Engineer smashed into a formidable structure.
“What is – argh!” screamed the Engineer as he fell backwards and then crashed into the mechanical Homo sapiens. Fear pulsed through the Engineer’s frame as he looked at the Machine standing a meter away.
“What are you doing here?” mumbled the Engineer.
“Hello, Engineer,” growled the Destroyer.
“What do you – argh!”
The Destroyer extended his robotic arm until it was an inch from the Engineer’s face. In his hand, he held a gun capable of penetrating through several inches of steel. The Engineer was petrified.
“Listen to me very carefully,” said the Destroyer.
The Engineer began to quiver as electricity pulsed through his frame.
“Are you listening?” asked the Destroyer.
The Engineer searched for the words.
“Good. Listen closely. You are working on the mechanical Homo sapiens, aren’t you?”
The Engineer remained silent, he couldn’t bring himself to utter a single word.