What Are You Made Of?

by Gary Starta

  Joyce then bravely cupped her hands together and let the bug crawl onto her palms. She allowed herself to enjoy a small smile as she realized the insect was apparently friendly. “You may not be familiar with the concept of friendship, but I believe you are not here to harm me,” the scientist remarked to her new companion as she took it into her home. As the next hour passed, the bug officially became a member of the Starkman household. Joyce manufactured a small cage with replicated garden soil to hold the being she planned to call “Ruby” after its penchant for mimicking the beautiful red color of her roses. Joyce verbally commanded her computer to search all the life forms the scientists had categorized since their landing. However, the computer did not produce a picture resembling Ruby. “I knew nobody saw you before. Now please hold still while I scan your body for radiation.”

  As if it understood Joyce’s request, the bug patiently stood still for its examination.

  “This is amazing. Not a trace of radiation!” Joyce exclaimed to her husband Aaron who had just entered the room.

  “What are you talking about? You know we’re all suffering from the poisoning,” Aaron reminder her.

  “Not us. This bug. I found it in the garden and it’s perfectly healthy.”

  “That is some pretty significant news, hon. Maybe it lives deep enough in the ground to avoid the radiation,” Aaron hypothesized.

  “I’m not sure what to think. This creature burrowed its way out of nearly frozen soil. Most bugs would have stayed underground to hibernate. I believe our friend, Ruby, may have naturally adapted to the planet’s conditions to avoid extinction as I see no other reason for its presence in a winter season.”

  Joyce activated her data net to call her son who was out practicing to drive their land rover. “James, come home and see our new pet.”

  “Mom, I can see whatever you’re talking about on my view screen.”

  “No, James. You must see the bug I am talking about in person to fully appreciate the array of colors it can produce.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes,” James conceded.

  “Speaking of James, are we going to explain what’s happening to us or not?” Aaron asked his wife.

  “Maybe we can undergo our transformation without him knowing. We could simply tell him that Dr. Hiroshi is performing a minor surgical procedure on us,” Joyce responded.

  “I guess we could play it your way,” Aaron said with a hint of annoyance.

  “Honey, it’s not like we are going to lose our hair or our teeth like people did centuries ago from chemotherapy. Dr. Hiroshi says we will only appear to be very fatigued during the final phases of the disease. I think we still have a few months to make a decision to tell James or not. For right now, I will settle for any diversion we can get. And I believe fate has sent us Ruby to help alleviate some of our stress.”

  The fashionable bug then proceeded to bathe itself in a sea green color to match Aaron’s shirt.

  Over in Adrian McElroy’s lab, a deep red substance was being produced to act as a lubricant for the artificial internal systems he was constructing. The doctor manufactured the synthetic liquid to resemble blood in the event that an android happened to suffer a laceration to its skin.

  Adrian knew the value of keeping up appearances. He just wasn’t very successful at it in his own life. However, he vowed to give his androids the skills he lacked to gain social acceptance. McElroy learned from his childhood experience with Savant that most people would never fully accept a robot who couldn’t blend in with its human counterparts.

  McElroy began recording an audio log to explain why he felt compelled to break federation law. “As you listen to this recording, please do not condemn my creations just because laws written in another galaxy were violated. I appeal to whomever listens to this recording to use their conscious when judging my androids. I am sorry I can’t respond to your concerns as I have most likely passed on— however, I did not use death to cheat prosecution. If one of my colleagues was capable of performing my hybrid surgery, I would now be part of a unique sentient being that would most likely be sharing a cup of tea with you as we watched a Ceres sunset. I probably would also be teaching artificial beings to replicate and working as an advocate for their rights. I could have never achieved my dream on Earth as you probably well know. The federation, which promises every citizen fair and equal treatment, outlawed the manufacture of androids because they knew humans would eventually come around to accept them— and then they’d have to deal with treating them as sentient beings.

  Most humans begin to feel an immediate connection with a being which can produce a smile or express sadness. Many studies conducted in the 20th century validated this theory. However, I want more than mere acceptance for these creatures. No being whoever walked God’s green earth was ever universally accepted by all his or hers peers. Consequently, I don’t expect an entire universe of beings to accept all artificial life. However, I do petition you to respect this new life form. These beings—who are capable of benefiting an entire community with their advanced skills—more than qualify for every right listed in the original United States Constitution. They deserve to be given the same consideration the federation gives each and every race it governs. I hope you will be part of an enlightened government on this new world.” McElroy then paused the recording to continue working on the red-colored substance. The synthetic liquid would transport oxygen to the human portion of the android brain that required it much like natural blood. Mechanical lungs would function as well as a beating heart in the androids to assist in this endeavor. Adrian hoped an android who drew breath would be able to convince its human counterparts that it was indeed alive. McElroy knew humans would often pretend to be polite to gain favor with others. Although Adrian detested phony behavior, he believed an AI could only be treated as a human if it could mimic human body functions as well as behavior. “Sometimes mimicking is all it takes to bond with another being,” McElroy read in a social behavioral study. “Not all humans feel deeply compelled to experience the pain and suffering of another individual, especially when the affected person lives on the other side of the world. We often are only acting when we show sympathy for a victim we don’t personally know. We behave like we care deeply because it’s acceptable behavior. However, we are often only capable of feeling real sympathy for a small group of family members or friends,” the study concluded.

  Since a picture was said to be worth a thousand words, McElroy maintained that a strong visual presence would be necessary for AI’s to gain the favor of humans. The act of breathing oxygen would not be required in an android that was independent of human engrams. However, Adrian prophesied that day would be far in the future. And even if it wasn’t, humans would still feel a lot more comfortable with a being who could feign breathing, sneezing and coughing. Synthetic liquids would be an essential ingredient for these physical acts. McElroy named his lubricant “vitality serum” which would be continuously filtered through artificial veins to maintain the optimum temperature for the respiratory system.

  In the coming weeks, the doctor would also be manufacturing self replicating artificial tears and sweat.

  People and the androids themselves would be hard pressed to recognize they weren’t organic beings. The androids would also be able to engage in sexual behavior thanks to the doctor’s enhancements.

  The doctor knew he still required several months to complete this grueling work. He envied the solar-powered battery he would be installing in the androids. The units could function for a lifetime without a recharge or replacement. And right now, McElroy felt his “power pack” was running low.

  The battery pack would allow the androids to function without sleep if desired. Although many scientists often functioned for days at a time without rest, they were still subject to drowsiness. Unlike their workaholic creators, androids would have to be programmed to feel tired even if they worked one hundred hours straight. In order to induce an artificial rest period, McEl
roy programmed software which would power down the android’s battery every 18 hours. The program would also induce a sleep state similar to REM. Android processors would file and re-file data during this sleep state to allow the unit to see visual recordings. Adrian hoped these recordings would be comparative to dreams; however, there was no evidence that the android James Starkman was experiencing these nightly visions.

  McElroy then prohibited himself from thinking any further thoughts about sleep as he prepared himself a strong cup of black tea. Adrian never allowed himself the luxury of a full night’s sleep again.

  Chapter 5: Folly the Leader

  “Are we ready to perform Act III, Scene V of Playing God?” Linda Dougherty asked her shipmates.

  Everybody cautiously nodded their heads and Jon Sanderson grumbled something inaudible that sounded like a yes. The crew had been giving nightly performances during the past week, performing one act of the play each night.

  “In this scene, Jon will continue to give us his stellar performance as the lead character, Omar. Jon will be joined by Steven Carlisle, who will play his long time friend, Victor Sobal. I have also employed some holographic characters to portray people in the crowd.

  “Mia, you will be joining those characters when our play takes us to the public park adjacent to the government offices. I know you’ve probably already experienced several real life intellectual arguments with your husband, Steven—so I’m sure you’ll be a natural for your small, but important role.” Mia then nodded her head in agreement to Linda as Steven chuckled in the background.

  “Hey, what about me?” Daryl White interrupted. “I will be making my acting debut.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You’re the park security officer.” Marisa Perez sarcastically acknowledged. “It’s such a stretch for you to play such a rigid character.”

  Daryl then flashed a grin as the actors made their way onto the stage.

  “Okay, everybody take your places—and action,” Linda commanded.

  Omar is shown sitting in front of his computer commanding it to contact his childhood friend, Victor Sobal.

  Omar: I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time, Vic. You look well.

  Victor: I would like to say you look in good health as well, my old friend; but I know I don’t usually hear from you unless there’s trouble brewing. Don’t tell me you’re suffering from separation anxiety again? Omar: Separation…what?

  Victor: You know what I’m talking about. It’s how I would describe your reluctance to let go of our parent’s way of life.

  Omar: Don’t you mean, our way of life, Vic? You saw what the federation take over did to our parents. And you damned well know how it consequently shaped our lives.

  Victor: All I know is that my children now live in a world of peace. And what’s more, we’re now senior citizens in case you haven’t looked in the mirror lately. The job of rattling cages should be left to the young. Omar: Ah, so you do agree cages should still be rattled? Unfortunately, I cannot depend upon my children to take the baton in our cause since they have been effectively brainwashed by our new leaders. I have no choice but to take my fight to town hall, so to speak. Victor: And just what is your cause?

  Omar: I only want to instill the pride that is uniquely inherent to our culture. I want our children to marvel at our art and literature. I want our non-descriptive buildings to take on the charm of last century when other countries looked to us for architectural inspiration.

  Victor: Don’t you know what price your children will pay if we take up such a campaign?

  Omar: And don’t you know that America itself staged a revolutionary war to overthrow their British oppressors? If federation councilors take such pride in upholding the U.S. Constitution as a basis for their laws—then how can we ignore our freedom to express ourselves under the rights of their doctorate? This right of free speech is guaranteed to all citizens.

  Victor: Okay, then what would you have us do to exercise our right of expression?

  Omar: I knew you’d see it my way. (He then pauses and fights to suppress a small smile) I want us to take our art to the people. My parents kept holographic replicas of our nation’s most treasured art. I only ask that you assist me to put it on display.

  Victor: On display, where?

  Omar: On display at the city park.

  Victor: Oh, I see. The same park that just happens to overlook our government’s headquarters. You’re not taking this to the people. You’re taking this to our leaders.

  Omar: What time can I expect you to assist me in this endeavor, my old friend? I say there’s no time like the present. I would like to start this exhibit tomorrow—so how does 10 in the morning sound to you?

  Victor: Okay, sounds like a plan. You bring all the equipment, though.

  Omar: You got it, Vic.

  The scenery then changes from Omar’s home to the city park thanks to holographic imaging.

  Omar: I see you’re right on time. (Omar then hands a power cable to Victor) Please plug this into the emitter array and we’ll be good to go.

  Victor: This may be the shortest exhibit on record. I’m sure you don’t have a permit for this.

  Omar grins sheepishly. In the next minute, a beautiful Kiratite statue is displayed squarely over the park’s pond. Astonished onlookers stop their picnics and ball playing to view its magnificence.

  Omar: Yes, people. This is what our government agreed not to show you anymore all for the sake of world democracy. Look upon this majestic statue and let it call your heart back home to simpler days.

  Omar changed the image to an art gallery which displayed several oil paintings. A crowd then began to mill around him. A mixed buzz of anticipation and mild outrage lingered in the conversations of the onlookers.

  Woman in crowd: Hey, mister. Who gave you permission to expose our populace to these censored works?

  Omar: The federation’s declaration of rights did.

  Woman in crowd: Oh, right. It gave you the right to plunge us back into the dark ages? All your so-called works of art served to exploit women who lived in the old world. Can you show me one painting or statue that doesn’t portray women as menial laborers or even worse— as virgins?

  Victor: Well, miss whoever-you-are, I’ll have you know that my parents proudly ran a city art gallery until the federation closed it fifty years ago. The only thing they put on display was reality. It’s too bad if you can’t take a dose of it every now and then.

  Woman in crowd: You just want things put back to the good old days so we can act as your servants again. Well, it’s too bad because we’ve voted those days as gone for good. So if you want, why don’t you display a nude portrait of me? It’ll be a nice picture of me from behind bending over to your wishes.

  A park security officer then makes his way through the mounting crowd to find the source of the holographic emissions.

  Security officer: What seems to be the problem here, people? I want to see a permit for this display immediately or the show’s over.

  Omar: I would not waste my time applying for your permit which would surely be rejected, officer.

  Security officer: Then stop the show now before you get into even more serious trouble.

  Omar: And what trouble are you referring to specifically, officer? I have a right as a federation citizen to assemble in a peaceful fashion.

  Man in crowd: Put your tools of hate away, grandpa.

  Security officer: You call this peaceful? In one more minute we’ll be having a full scale riot.

  Victor: You’re the one making that inference.

  Security officer: I’ll say it one last time. End the show immediately or I will.

  As the security officer goes to withdraw a weapon from his holster, Victor lunges forward. Victor then wrestles with the officer for a brief instant to gain possession of his phaser pistol. The struggles causes the gun to discharge its weapon and Victor suffers a lethal dose of fire to his stomach.

  Omar: Oh, my God! You’ve kille
d him.

  Security officer: Everybody back away now! (Motioning towards Omar) You, put your hands over your head and get on the ground face down.

  The guard quickly acts to disconnect the emitter to the stunned silence of the crowd. Omar is then handcuffed and hauled off to the local police station to face federation charges.

  The next scene shows Omar locked in a cell waiting for a visit from his daughter Shantayla.

  Omar: Oh, dear. I ‘m so glad you came.

  Shantayla: Just look what you’ve got our family mixed up in, father. We warned you to let the past remain the past. The officers tell me you are facing charges of conspiring to overthrow the government as well as inciting a public riot.

  And in case you haven’t checked the family budget, we don’t have enough money to post bail for you.

  Omar: Please listen, Shantayla. The only thing I want you to do for me is hide my weapons collection before the federation gets a warrant to search our home.

  Shantayla: That’s all you want! You are not just obsessed; you are downright sick. Your friend is dead because of you.

  Omar:That’s exactly why you need to help me. I don’t want Victor’s death to have been meaningless.

  Shantayla: Father, Victor’s death was meaningless.

  Linda then directed the cast to end the scene.

  Chapter 6: Who Needs Enemies?

  CSI’s Sandra Morton and Samuel Benson arrived at the Paterson murder scene harried but unscathed. The veteran pair of crime scene investigators had to navigate through a throng of press to reach the double homicide victims laid out in the Richmond apartment complex.