"I was hoping you could tell me a little more about what Genitech actually does," I said, as she waved her badge near the reader to gain entrance. "The brochure was a bit vague."
She laughed in a bubbly, pretty girl fashion. "Can you believe that was whipped together in about an hour by someone in HR? I urged my boss to have it done professionally, but it was out of her control."
I thought she would continue as we walked deeper into the offices, but she didn't. She was either oblivious or avoiding the question, and I got the feeling it was the latter. As gorgeous as she was, she carried herself in a way that hinted at an underlying intelligence, something that was there but not often revealed. Like a secret geekiness she kept all to herself.
"Was there an event that caused the android to become unresponsive?" I asked.
"No, it's the strangest thing," she replied. "One minute he was analyzing data, the next, shutdown completely."
"And you've tried a reboot?"
"Several times. We even tried replacing its batteries."
I smiled to myself, picturing her removing a panel and popping in a couple of D batteries. I wondered just how elaborate his systems were, and how cumbersome a task that would be to perform.
We passed through another set of doors, separating the offices from this place. Lisa motioned to the android. "Its name is Victor."
Chapter 5
The problem android was strangely sitting upright with his eyes closed on a long desk in the middle of what appeared to be a lab. A mirrored glass took up an entire wall behind him. The first thing that struck me about him was his how lifelike he appeared. The only clothing he wore was a pair of white cotton pants with a drawstring, so I could see his entire upper body. I was amazed by all the little details—from the thousands of tiny little hairs on his arms to the beauty mark on his shoulder, and even his toned muscles—he was indistinguishable from any other human male. Apart from the low technological hum I could sense with my power, I wouldn't have known he was a machine. It appeared as if he was in some kind of stasis, or suspended mode.
To say I was fascinated would be a gross understatement. His skin was so realistic, his complexion a neutral kind of tan that would have made it impossible to speculate his ethnicity, had he'd been human. His hair was also a style and texture that could've belonged to any number of ethnic groups, or perhaps it was designed as a composite from several. It made him seem more universal somehow, friendlier and accessible. I was certain that was intentional, and I wondered what his purpose was.
"He was created here?" I asked Lisa. "What do the scientists who worked on him say?"
"They're stumped. That's why we called you. Even if it is a long shot, you're our last hope." She handed me a small binder with a cover sheet entitled, Victor. "This is the important stuff about this model."
And with that simple statement, she left me to my own devices. That's it? No real background of the problem, no explanation at all? It was a nice departure from what usually happened—drinking from the firehouse of an IT guy, being bombarded with a lot of useless information. But whether I'd liked it or not, I'd come to expect it, and this was feeling more and more like a setup.
To my surprise, I suddenly felt relaxed, which didn't make sense given I was presented with a problem I didn't know how to solve and was likely under surveillance to boot. The sensation was similar to the one I felt in the lobby, when...
I glanced around, but Tyler wasn't there. Weird. I couldn't shake the feeling I wasn't alone, but I wrote it off to most likely being observed. By whom, I wasn't sure, but there were too many odd things about this job to not be a little paranoid.
I cracked open the binder and read through its contents. It outlined the things I'd already asked about or Lisa had mentioned: his off button, where his batteries were stored, and a brief overview of his programming and functionality. I had a trickle of hope when I encountered a chapter called, How to Run a Diagnostic, but that fizzled out quick when I realized it required the android to be online.
For sanity's sake (and because clients often lie) I went through the steps Lisa had said they'd already taken—to reboot the android. The low hum I felt remained unchanged.
Though I was apprehensive about using my power there, I had reached an impasse with the android. I covertly touched one of his hands.
"What's your story, Victor?" I said aloud. "Are they overworking you here?"
I didn't expect a response of any kind, I mean, I didn't do anything. He was still in suspended mode, so it's not like there was anything to interface with. But that low hum grew louder and more complex. I could sense his systems come online, as the POST occurred. His code base was a language called Dalia that I'd never heard of.
His eyes opened, but they were all white—no irises or pupils, only the sclera. Which was just a little totally terrifying.
Then light began to shine through his eyes, projecting an image on the wall in front of him. I turned around to see none other than Tyler in a video playing from his eyes. The timestamp was two weeks into the future.
Tyler's veins were bulged out and darkened, and his breaths were labored. "This isn't just about eliminating enhanced, don't you see that?" he said. "The strain has evolved. It's killing regular humans now."
"We can fix that. We'll develop an antidote." The voice was garbled, and I couldn't see its speaker in the video.
"Before...it...kills you?" Tyler spoke in uneven gasps, appearing to be on the verge of death. The illness seemed to be spreading. It was as if some kind of black substance had taken hold of his circulatory system and was now coursing through him, sucking his life force away.
"If it wipes out enhanced, it was worth it."
I watched as Tyler collapsed. Then the video skipped to a different scene. The timestamp was later, about two months into the future. This one was much quieter. The video panned the streets of New York City. Bodies strewn about silently decomposed.
"No survivors," Victor said, his voice so close I guessed he was the one filming it. "They're all gone. Everywhere." He turned the camera towards himself. "You have to stop this. For the sake of humanity, don't let them release that serum, it—"
And then the video cut out.
What the hell was that? Victor appeared to continue booting and his eyes became normal, complete with irises and pupils. They were a strange color—more of a brownish hue, with hints of green and blue.
It was so real—the voices, the disease, the bodies. I doubt he could've fabricated something like that. But watching the future? That's not possible.
I waited for him to finish booting before I spoke. But then he ended up addressing me first. "My name is Victor. How can I help you?"
His voice was slightly mechanical, but I'd heard guys in IT sound worse. "I'm Cass. And actually, I'm here to help you."
"Help me?" He tilted his head in a curious fashion.
"You were unresponsive. Your..." I struggled with the right word to use, creators seemed wrong, coworkers also was weird. Masters just made him sound like a genie. It made me wonder what kind of role he played here, if he did absolutely everything they ordered.
"Your colleagues were worried about you," I finished. "What happened?"
He paused, but I could sense a burst of activity within him.
"I do not know. It appears as if I have no memory of the incident."
Not being able to recall could mean that a deliberate wipe of his memory around the time the incident had taken place. However, with his code base in a totally proprietary language, there was little I could do to help.
"Can I run a diagnostic on you?" I asked. Now that he was conscious, I could easily follow the steps in the binder.
That question appeared to make him uncomfortable. "I can run it on myself."
"Of course. Please proceed."
Victor's eyes closed as the self-diagnostic scan began. It ran only a couple of minutes, and when it concluded his eyes reopened.
"All systems reporting back as
healthy."
"That's strange," I said to myself more to him, and opened the binder. I was looking for anything to help with the troubleshooting process, but there was little else. I glanced up at Victor. "You projected two videos as you were coming back online, both timestamped in the future. What date does your system think it is?"
"It is September 5th, 2041. One twenty in the afternoon."
Okay, his system knew the correct date, so then the videos must have been edited. "Can you recall those two video clips, and determine if they were altered in any way?"
It didn't take him long to come back with an answer. "No, I see no evidence of tampering or modification. They are the original media that was recorded."
It was certainly easy enough to set a recorder's date in the future, so that didn't prove anything. "Can you play the first one again?"
He took a moment to recall the video, and then projected it on the wall again. The setting was in an office, similar to this one. As Tyler spoke in the feed, I looked around the scene to see if something, anything, could substantiate the timestamp. And then I saw it. A pile of periodicals on a nearby desk.
I approached the wall and pointed at them. "Can you zoom in on these?"
Victor did as instructed, zooming in and cleaning it up until we could see the date on the newspaper. September 18th, 2041.
"Who is the man in this recording?" I asked Victor.
"I do not know."
Either this was an elaborately staged hoax, or humanity was on the verge of extinction. Because the source of the feed was from an android, I was inclined to think the latter.
I took a moment to breathe, trying to calm the freak out storm that was brewing inside me. Every instinct I had told me to get the hell out of there. But the reason I took the job was to find out something about this company. And I was already there, so I had to at least try to find something. I came up with a plan.
"I have to use the bathroom; can you tell me where it is?" I asked Victor.
"I would be happy to show you."
"It's okay, I'm sure I can find it if you point the way." It would be difficult to snoop around with an android watching my every move.
"You must be escorted in the building," Victor said. "Come with me."
Damn. Hell of an amateur sleuth I turned out to be. Still, I could keep my eyes peeled along the way.
We passed a few empty cubicles and a large workspace, strewn with papers and handwritten notes. The computer in that space had a screensaver of a cat with a superhero cape.
And then we made it to the bathrooms. I went in and waited in a stall for the customary amount of minutes it would take to pee. Then I flushed and washed my hands afterwards, in case Victor could hear. I wondered if his senses were enhanced beyond that of a human's.
On the way back to the room, I stumbled by that large workspace, tripping over my heels. I was close enough to glance at some of the papers on the way down.
"Whoops!" I said on the floor. "So clumsy."
"Let me help you up," Victor said. He offered me his hand and placed his other hand gently on my waist to assist me upright. I was surprised at how careful he was, how much he resembled a human in that brief physical interaction. I got another eyeful of the papers and noticed the words, "Holmes" and "PE-145" repeated several times.
"Thank you," I said.
He nodded and followed me back to the room. I knew better than to ask Victor about Holmes. I still wasn't sure if we were being observed.
"Well, I guess you're back up and running. So, I suppose that means my work here is done."
"I suppose it is. I will get Lisa." If I didn't know better, I'd think he sounded disappointed.
To tell the truth, I was a little disappointed myself. I found Victor beyond fascinating and wanted to spend more time with him. He was the most interesting mystery of all.
Lisa returned shortly, followed by Victor. "Wow that was fast! I guess your reputation is well-deserved. What was the issue?"
"I'm not sure," I said. "He seemed to come back online on his own. Then he ran a diagnostic and reported no errors. My hypothesis is that it may have been a glitch of some sort."
I know it wasn't very technical of me, but I'd found in IT sometimes there is no real explanation. Sometimes, machines have bad days too.
"I would suggest he run a more comprehensive systems check tonight, just to be safe," I added.
"I'm sure Victor already planned to." Lisa smiled at him.
"Of course." He turned to me. "It was a pleasure meeting you."
I wanted to hug him, this amazing hunk of science before me. To interface with him, learn his coding language, really communicate with him. I know it probably `sounds creepy, but from what I could sense, he seemed to desire that kind of connection as well.
"Likewise," I said, shaking his hand and even doing a half-hug with him. His body felt warm, now that it was alive with all that glorious code, tech, and electricity.
His eyes seemed sad, though he wore a smile as I pulled away from him. And my heart just melted. I wondered if they were mistreating him, undermining him, or treating him like a simple machine. Even from our brief time together, I knew he was so much more.
Lisa escorted me out of the room, but I took one last glance at Victor and smiled. He was already looking in our direction, and he smiled back. This time it was less sad.
Somehow getting that happier smile out of him brightened my day. Lisa settled up with me in the lobby, and true to her word, she didn't flinch at my fee, though I had reduced it, due to the fact that I didn't do much. I would've liked more answers than I got from Genitech, but I at least found something to search. With less than two weeks remaining before a virus that wipes out all enhanced is unleashed, I didn't have any time to waste.
Chapter 6
Unfortunately, searching Holmes didn't help much, though I did learn about a local Sir Arthur Conan Doyle fan club I didn't realize existed. That could be fun...
I shook my head and refocused, adding more terms, subtracting out anything to do with Sherlock. And then searching on PE-145.
Nothing.
It didn't take the world's greatest detective to deduce that Holmes could be the codename for the tool Genitech has been working on, to identify enhanced individuals. But PE-145? That could be anything.
Frustrated, I set my laptop aside and stretched. I glanced at the clock and realized a couple of hours had passed, and I had missed a meal. It just so happens that the best deli/sandwich shop in the known universe was a few blocks from my house. I decided to walk and enjoy some fresh air and sunlight for a change. The town had a slower, more easy-going pace than other northern Jersey cities. Probably due to its older, richer constituents. I waved to my elderly neighbor, Mrs. Swanson. As a widow with little else to do, she was the unofficial neighborhood watchdog and sometime busybody.
She smiled and waved back, rocking along in her chair.
So very hungry, all I could think about was the sandwich I wanted: a ham and cheese sub. I know that sounds boring, but subs in authentic Jersey delis were anything but. Fresh sliced boiled ham, all the veggies, fresh mozzarella, oil and vinegar, plus all the spices—it was by far my favorite thing to eat. I knew Mike would be working, and he made me the best sandwiches. The $20 tip I always left might have had something to do with it, but it was totally worth it. A solid month had passed since I last tasted the deliciousness of that sandwich, so I was more than ready.
I picked up my pace, eager to get there. Even the smell of the shop, with its freshly baked breads, deli pickles, and pastries was utterly divine.
When I walked in, I was practically drooling. The tantalizing aroma didn't disappoint, and I had to consciously close my lips to contain the saliva threatening to escape. I approached the counter and Mike smiled.
"Oh hey, look who it is, Cass! We missed you around here."
"You have no idea..." I was about to go into detail about the food in Redmond, when I caught a glimpse of a man walking i
nto the deli. He looked like Victor, but he was wearing sunglasses and a hat, so I couldn't be sure.
"Make me the usual, please," I said to Mike. "I'll be right back."
"You got it, boss."
I walked over to the corner in which the man was standing awkwardly, trying to look inconspicuous. The energy of his cybernetics radiated out from him in waves.
"Victor, what are you doing here?"
"Victor. Who is this Victor you speak of? I'm just a normal human male."
I raised an eyebrow. "You're not fooling anyone; I can feel your CPU ramping up as we speak."
It slipped out, probably because I was more comfortable with him than most humans. I hoped that wouldn't come back to haunt me.
He took off his sunglasses and looked down. "I followed you. I don't know why. Maybe because you were the first person to treat me like something other than a sophisticated machine."
I nodded. "Hey, do you eat? I'm getting a sub."
Victor shook his head no.
"I'll be right back, grab a table."
I paid Mike, slapped a twenty in the tip jar, and grabbed my sandwich. "Thanks, I really needed this."
"I put an extra pickle in there, sweetie." Mike smiled a funny kind of flirtatious smile. If he ever seriously propositioned me, I'd date him in a heartbeat, it didn't matter that he was greying, overweight, and mean to everyone else. His culinary talents alone would be worth it.
I smiled back. "You're the best!"
Then I went to the table Victor now sat at, where he gazed out the window. I found myself wondering what he was thinking. If he had random thoughts, or if everything going on in his head was a planned algorithm just carrying out its tasks.
"So why are you out of Genitech?" I took my first bite of the sandwich and moaned in delight.
"I do not like it there, Cass." His gaze returned to the window.
"What, did you escape or something?" I said it half-joking, but his expression was serious.
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