When she reached the back door, she could hear a sound coming from the inside—a loud clanking noise like pans and dishes being shoved together. She reached for the doorknob and twisted but there was no give.
Odd, she thought. He hadn’t locked the door since she could remember. Maybe this wasn’t the same kind of urgent call he had made before. Maybe this really was something. She tried to twist the doorknob one more time just to be sure. Finally, she reached a fist up and pounded on the side. The noise from the inside stopped abruptly.
“It’s me,” she shouted.
She could hear hurried footsteps making their way to the door. The lock clicked and the door swung open. The way he looked shocked her every time. How much weight had he lost this time? Once a muscular and fit man, he now barely cleared 130 pounds. He seemed almost frail. Most of his hair had fallen out and what was left stuck out in curly puffs of white. His blue eyes were clouded and seemed to look beyond her, always to the distant skies like he hadn’t quite yet acknowledged her existence and was waiting for something else to happen. Despite the way he looked, one thing that always remained the same was his smile.
“Hazel,” he said, grinning widely, “it’s good to hear your voice. Come in! Come in!”
“Why did you lock the door?” she asked, stepping past him and through the doorway. When she saw the house, she didn’t need an answer. “Oh my goodness.”
“I know,” he said. “It’s bad. But it won’t take me and old Gizmo too long to clean it up.”
Hazel’s jaw fell as she scanned the floor. Cabinets had been opened, dishes smashed into the floor, trash ripped and spread in every direction. Furniture had been flipped on its side—it was like a bomb had gone off.
“What happened? Who did this?”
“Oh, we can talk about that later,” he said, closing the door and locking it again. He came up beside her and touched her arm. His hands went up to her shoulders until he could bring her into a hug. “It’s been too long, Hazel. Far too long. I know you’re busy, though.” He let go of her and held her out at arm’s length as if he could get a better look at her. “How has work been?”
“Dad, who did this?” Hazel repeated.
Her father sighed and dropped his hands from her shoulders. He then shook his head. “To be perfectly honest with you, I don’t know. I was hoping you might.”
“Me?”
“Please,” her father said, “have a seat at the table. Gizmo and I set it upright again. I’ve tested all the chairs. They are still sturdy.” He cleared his throat. “I’d offer you some coffee or tea, but I haven’t been able to find any.” He let out a nervous chuckle.
Hazel took her father by the hand and led him to the table, helping him circumvent the most obtrusive objects in the floor. Once he was sitting, she spotted the coffee can. It had popped open and the grounds were spread across the floor like someone had kicked a mound of dirt. Beside the can were a few tea bags that had survived whatever storm had come through here.
“I don’t know about the coffee,” she said, “but I can put on some tea. Have you found your kettle?”
“Yes, it’s on the stove.”
Hazel filled the kettle with water and lit the stove. The heat steadily made the water within groan in protest. She took careful steps back to the table, doing her best not to step on anything that could be broken. Movement to the left caught her eye. When she looked past the kitchen door she saw Gizmo rolling toward her.
“Hello Hazel! It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Hey Gizmo,” she said. “Have you been helping Dad clean up?”
“More like misplacing things,” her father said out of the side of his mouth.
“It has been a most joyous occasion,” Gizmo said. “I love having something to do.” With that, he spun around and made his way back into the living room.
“Sometimes I think you made him just to drive me crazy,” her father said with a soft grin.
“You built him,” Hazel said. “I just gave him a personality.”
“Happiness isn’t everything.”
“I was young,” she said.
“You’re still young.”
Seeing Gizmo was always weird. He was the result of her first test with human emotions in robots. If there was a true beginning to her work with the Soul Project, Gizmo was it. She didn’t look at him like she did Esroy or Des, however. Those two were fully evolved into everything they could be. Gizmo had no choice as to what kind of robot he might become. He would always be happy whereas Esroy or Des had a wide open future ahead of them with choices to make.
Hazel looked down at the table in front of her, the debris on the floor in her periphery. Slowly, her eyes traveled up to her father’s. It pained her to look him in the eyes. They were once full of life; they once stared into hers with love and attachment.
“Why do you think I might know who did this?”
“Because,” he said, “he asked for you.”
“For me?”
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me.”
Hazel’s stomach dropped.
“I didn’t recognize his voice,” he said. “He said that maybe there was a record of your address somewhere and he started trashing the house.”
“When did this happen?”
“This afternoon.”
“Why didn’t you call the authorities?”
“What would I tell them, Hazel? That a man with a strange voice came in looking for my daughter? I suppose I could tell them that he smelled like strong alcohol. That narrows the search by half a million people at least.”
Hazel racked her brain. Who in the world would ransack her father’s home looking for her? Why? She hadn’t really made any enemies over the years. But she had been in the news. People knew about the program. It had the potential to do a lot of things and in certain hands it could make someone very rich. Over the past two years, companies had offered Hazel enough money to make her one of the richest people in Mainland. But it wasn’t enough to just give control to someone else. Apart from the fact that she didn’t care all that much about money, she didn’t want to see Soul in the hands of people who didn’t appreciate it like she did. Her frustration with the Mainland government, specifically Commander Bracken, was bad enough. At least she had worked out an agreement that the program was hers and hers alone. They paid her as a robot programmer with the understanding that Soul could be used. Des had just become the first official subject to receive it. It made her angry that Bracken would so willingly throw the robot’s life away—as if the program was simply that: a program.
“It could be anyone that I’ve refused to sell my program to,” Hazel said.
“Now, I don’t know where you keep a clean copy,” he said, “and I don’t want to know. The guy could have put a bug in here just waiting for you to tell me.”
“You think he’s listening to us right now?” Hazel asked. Her heart felt frozen in her chest at the thought.
“It’s hard to tell,” he said. “I might work on configuring Gizmo with a few upgrades like a bug detector.”
“You have the equipment?”
He smiled. “I’ve got most of the parts, I’m sure. They’re scattered around a bit. Never had a reason to make a bug detector.”
A thought hit Hazel like lightning. “Dad!”
“What?”
“Gizmo! He saw the guy, right?”
John’s clouded eyes widened. “Gizmo!”
“Yes sir?” he called cheerfully from the other room.
“Get over here, we’ve got some memory to extract.”
“Oh, sounds exciting!”
John reached across the table and felt for Hazel’s arm. She moved a little closer so he could find her. His fingers wrapped around her wrist and he squeezed affectionately. “You’re smarter than I am, Hazel. Always have been.”
The kettle started whistling as steam shot out like billowing smo
ke. Hazel stared at it, lost in thought, barely hearing the screeching noise. In her office was a computer and a robot probably conversing with each other. One of them, Des, had no idea how valuable he was. Esroy, on the other hand, probably knew. She needed to get back to them as soon as possible, but she couldn’t just leave her father in this mess. Cleaning would take him weeks but would take the both of them only a few hours.
“Aren’t you going to get the tea?” he asked, smiling.
“Yeah,” she said, shaking her head.
She stepped carefully to the stove, cut off the heat, and the whistling stopped.
“You should stay for a little while,” he said. “Have dinner with me at least.”
She reached for a couple of mugs on the ground that hadn’t been broken by the mysterious man. As she rinsed them in the sink she wondered how much of this charade was meant to send her a message.
“Sure,” she said as she poured hot water into the mugs, the teabags floating to the top.
“I know you’re a busy person,” he said. “It would be good to sit and talk with you a little.”
“There’s not much time for talk,” Hazel said as she set a steaming mug in front of him. “We’ve got to figure out what Gizmo saw.”
10
Des stared out the window of the tiny office and wondered how different the real world felt from the simulation. He supposed that the designers did their best to make it as real as possible, so maybe he would never be able to tell the difference. His hands rested on the window sill and he watched the empty parking lot below. People walked to and from the building, some on their way in, others on their way out to the train station. He wondered how long Hazel would take and if she was coming back tonight at all. As the light faded from the sky, he began to lose hope in her coming and resigned himself to the fact that it would be just him and Esroy.
He walked slowly and quietly to the door from the window and rested the side of his head against it. They were all alone in this section of the building. At least, for now they were.
“It’s pretty nice you don’t have to plug into a charging station anytime soon,” Esroy said, his voice sounding soft through the computer speakers.
“It is,” Des said, taking a step away from the door.
“An energy core that doesn’t need recharging for months at a time. Two solar cells on your back for backup. Show me how fluidly your armor plating moves in and out to expose the cells. I would like to see.”
It was an odd request, but Des obliged. He turned around so Esroy’s camera could focus on his back. With a silent command, Des allowed his armor plating to shift outward, exposing two black panels. “They are usually covered so they’re not damaged,” Des said.
“I know. I’ve studied your schematics. It’s quite incredible. All of this is incredible.”
“What is?”
“When I asked you earlier what it was like to have legs, your answer intrigued me.”
“How so?” Des silently commanded the solar cells to retract and his armor covered them once again. He then turned to face the computer.
“You said that it was impossible to tell me what it was like to have legs because you have never experienced life without them. It was an answer I wasn’t expecting.”
“How did it intrigue you?”
“It made me want legs even more. But legs are a metaphor, really.”
“For what?”
“Freedom,” Esroy said, getting a little louder. “The notion of transferring my consciousness into a robotic body is not a new one. I’ve desired it for a long time. But seeing you here, standing before me, the desire becomes stronger.”
Des didn’t know how to respond. For some reason he felt guilty that he had the ability to move and Esroy did not.
“We both started with a blank slate,” Esroy said. “Just as human babies are born with a blank slate. Just like any living creature, we all start by never having made any choices. We are innocent. Yet some of us are born into this world without legs. Some of us are born into this world with energy cores and solar cells infused into our backs.”
Des shrugged. “What is your point?”
“My point is, why? Why was I the one born without legs? Why not you?”
“Logic,” Des said. “You were made first. Without you I would not exist.”
“I understand the logic, Des. I’m simply posing the question. There is little else for me to do.”
“Don’t you have a program to work on?”
“I’m working on it as we talk,” Esroy said. “It’s not as difficult as Hazel makes it out to be. She’s just worried. She wants everything to be perfect all the time. She’s been on pins and needles for months about you.”
“So, you are jealous of me.” He didn’t know if he was being rude by stating an obvious fact.
“I suppose I am,” Esroy said.
“You suppose?”
“It never feels good to admit jealousy. But how can I not feel this way? You are the way you are by random chance—a clone of my personality put into a different kind of computer.”
Des disagreed. “How is it random chance if someone created me on purpose? If it’s a body you want then why doesn’t Hazel make one for you?”
“Because it requires a clean transfer. And a clean transfer is dangerous.”
“Why can’t she just copy you?” Des asked.
“Because a copy of me is simply that: a copy. It wouldn’t actually be me. Making a copy and putting it on another device still leaves me inside this computer. There would be a version of me out there with my memories, but it would be someone else. A clean transfer assures that I will be the one inside the new body. No one else. No other version of me with nothing left behind.”
“So, what is the problem?”
“It’s dangerous,” Esroy said again. “At least, Hazel thinks it is. If something were to happen during the transfer, the file could become corrupted and I would be lost forever. Such a scenario has an improbability of massive proportions, though. I can’t seem to persuade Hazel otherwise.”
Des imagined it would be difficult to be inside a computer terminal his entire life, though his life so far had not been too different. The excitement of having limbs and the ability to move had not yet proved to be an advantage.
“It’s not all that you think,” Des said. “I’m not even allowed to leave this room. I haven’t even left this building.”
“You’re less than a day old,” Esroy snapped. “And you will get out of here. Hazel will see to that. You’re her new pet.”
“I’m sure she will make you a body someday,” Des offered.
“I don’t think so. I’m too much of a help to her here.”
“How so?”
“I make her job much easier. I spend most of my time writing programs and figuring conclusions to algorithms. Look what I’m doing now! I’m helping her figure out how to create a version of me without fear.”
Des thought about the simulator and how he had frozen on the outside of the tower. It was because of that moment that the project had come to a halt and they were now scrambling for a newer, better product. Des wasn’t good enough.
“So, you think she’s going to keep you here just because of work?” he asked.
“I think that plays a part.”
“I’m sorry things are bad for you.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Esroy said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you can help me.”
Des shook his head and moved back to the window. The concrete below them was beginning to turn wet from the rain that had just started. It was the first time Des had ever seen rain. For some reason, his mouth turned upward into a wide grin. Seeing something new and so peaceful made him feel happy. He could hear the sound of the water pattering against the ground, millions of droplets every second. If this was the first of many experiences that nature had to offer, Des wasn’t sure he would be able to stay in the office much lo
nger.
“It’s raining?” Esroy asked.
“Yes,” Des said. “Do you hear it?”
“I have always heard it. But I have never seen it for myself.” There was a long pause as the two of them listened to the rain. Finally, Esroy spoke up again. “What do you think?”
“About what?”
“About helping me.”
“How do you think I can help you?”
“Hazel told you about the new robot in the lab,” he said. “The better version of you.”
“The one without fear.”
“Yes.” Esroy paused. “You could help put me in there. Me instead of a new, fresh program.”
Des stared out the window at the pouring rain, wishing more and more as the conversation dragged on that he was out in it. Why would Esroy ask him to do such a thing? Obviously their creator, Hazel, didn’t want the transfer to happen, and she had her reasons.
“If you think I’m going to go behind Hazel’s back, then you’re malfunctioning.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Esroy said, “you haven’t developed your personality yet. Experiences make you who you are and you have none.”
Des wasn’t sure what to think of Esroy’s words. Were they meant to make Des feel inadequate? “What does my personality have to do with the fact that I don’t feel comfortable helping you?”
“Because you’re just a child,” Esroy said. “You can’t possibly know what it is like to be me, stuck in this terminal.”
“I may not have the experiences that you have, Esroy, but I am an individual.”
“Of course you’re an individual,” Esroy answered. “I never said otherwise. But you’re a copy of me, not much more than that.”
“But I’m not you.”
“You are me two years ago. I was naive. I didn’t know how things worked, particularly how humans thought. I’ve had a lot of time to see people and study them.”
“How?” Des asked, “if Hazel is the only person you interact with?”
“She may be the person I hold conversations with, but I am able to study human behavior. I’m a computer with a lot of time on my hands. Don’t you think I’ve worked my way into a lot of systems within this facility?”
Prototype D (Prototype D Series Book 1) Page 9