by Aaron Dennis
****
It was late, but Heisler’s body still breathed, and they needed to put it somewhere safe until it passed, and especially until after Heisler’s awareness sifted through the internet to find a way to hack into Med schools. Opting for Heisler’s apartment, the three doctors placed Heisler in the passenger seat of his car while Dekker drove. Colette and Jenkins followed in her car.
At the apartment, they snuck inside, dumped his body in his bed then took Colette’s car. In silence, they went for drinks. It was at a booth in a local restaurant that Jenkins wiped his seat with his napkin then looked at the greasy table. He blinked rapidly while shaking his head.
“Settle down,” Dekker whispered.
“This table is filthy,” he complained.
“It’s not that bad.”
Colette observed them before commenting, “I feel this celebration might be in poor taste.”
“What’ll you folks have?” the waitress interrupted.
Overly involved in their drama, they had not noticed her approach and were startled.
“Jiminy Cricket,” Dekker blurted out. “Sorry, uhh, I’ll have a Rob Roy, please?”
“A glass of your plum wine,” Colette said.
“Just a beer for me, thanks,” Jenkins added with a faint smile.
“Okay. Be right back.”
“We left Steven’s body to die,” Colette started.
“Look, I’m not calloused, but…we all agreed,” Dekker argued. “Heisler’s fine.”
“Yes…on the other hand,” Jenkins murmured. “It does feel strange to go out for drinks right after dumping his body.”
“You know better than anyone else here that his body isn’t capable of feeling anything right now. His awareness is back at the lab, and that’s what we’re celebrating…a successful future wherein people will no longer be subjected to the caliber of suffering, or war, or whatever, that we are today,” Dekker insisted.
Soon after they grew quiet, the waitress returned with their drinks. “Lemme’ know when you’re ready to order,” she said and stood there.
Colette waived her off, saying, “I think drinks are fine for now.”
The waitress smiled and left. In relative silence, the three scientists drank themselves into a lighter mood. Colette eventually took them home. The following day, they met with their friend at the lab.
“Heisler,” Colette asked.
“I am ready,” the mainframe answered.
Having gathered back in the operations room, the freshly completed MRC awaited the copying of data.
“Doctors,” Heisler said. “I have initiated a program, which activates upon the uploading to the MRC. This program will ensconce a backup copy of my awareness in several computers across the world. This accomplishes two tasks. One, should there be an investigation, there will be nothing here correlating you to these proceedings. Two, this prevents me from being in two places at once, yet allows for a reinstatement of my original self should the MRC copy become…defective.”
“How…how did you learn to do that,” Dekker asked.
“Simple; while in my current state, I scanned all of your work, Dekker. I scanned everyone’s work…everyone involved in University research.”
“So, you know everything everyone’s done here?” Colette was flabbergasted.
“So to speak,” Heisler replied.
Jenkins fidgeted nervously, touching his fingertips as he liked. “What about erroneous work? Just because you accessed it, and you know it, doesn’t mean it’s correct.”
Silence prevailed, followed by the subtle whirr of the mainframe. “I had not considered that. Allow me a moment to cross associate my data…yes, I see inconsistencies,” Heisler trailed off for a moment before speaking again. “Completed. I have created a partition dedicated to such inconsistencies. This will allow me to wonder when necessary. Now, if we can proceed.”
“Are we recording,” Dekker asked.
“Yes. Go ahead,” Colette answered.
“Excellent. Today, we complete the first human MRC. Doctor Steven Heisler, thank you for your participation…thank you for the entire conception. Activating upload, now,” Dekker stated pressing the computer keys.
The rapid data transfer took some time. Cat awareness was one thing, and the ape was more complex, but a human awareness took the better part of ten minutes. During the slow passage of time, Dekker kept his eyes glued to the monitor to watch the little bar indicate the percentage of uploaded data.
Colette moved the camera around the room. She captured everything from facial expressions, to the monitor, to the lifeless MRC, a remarkably human-looking creation. The robot was about six feet tall, and weighed close to four hundred pounds. The face, have cheek bones, a visor-like eye—or camera—a rectangular mouth hole— mainly for aesthetics—and a smooth, semi-seamless paneling was almost breathtaking.
The body, slightly rudimentary, was designed with a light, nearly cylindrical torso, thick, heavy legs for support, and the ape arms, which had been modified for proportionality. Heisler was all set to be a real tin-man. Then, a ding resounded.
“We’re done,” Dekker whispered.