The Reborn (The Day Eight Series Part 1)

by Mazza, Ray

  After commercials, some actual news blessed the screen. The female anchor sat next to her handsome, but aging, co-anchor.

  She shuffled some papers and began, “Now you’re back with myself, Jackie Tristram, and our favorite male face, Stan Goodall. We continue our countdown to the White House. If you haven’t made up your mind, there’s only one week left to decide who you’re voting for.”

  “That’s right, Jackie,” smiled the co-anchor, “And I’ll tell you, it’s an interesting scene at the polls. California Democratic senator Bill Bosley leads with 46%. New York mayor, Trent Paxton, for the Republican Party trails with 38%. That’s quite a deficit for Paxton to make up. The man has really nailed his responses in the debates, but the fact that he wasn’t even born by the time Bosley got drafted for Vietnam, well, there’s no making up for that lack of experience.”

  “No there isn’t, Stan. But you have to admit, the history that Paxton does have has been quite impressive.”

  “It certainly has been,” agreed the male anchor, “The man’s a paradigm of accomplishment. And who could have predicted his tears two nights ago? His response to the question of not having been in a war really touched the hearts and souls of the viewers. Imagine this: Paxton is only two years old and his father steps on a land mine in southern Vietnam and bleeds to death on the battlefield. Then when Paxton is nine, he walks into the kitchen and finds his mother like that, clutching a photo of his father. That would have irreversibly traumatized most people.

  “Some psychologists speculate that Paxton’s dedication to both school and politics at a young age can be attributed to his mother’s death. It was his way of taking his mind off things, so to speak.”

  “Well, Jackie, most Americans prefer to take their minds off things by watching sports, and they’re in luck, because after this break we’ll be showing the top ten most memorable moments in baseball history, starting with – ”

  Click. Click. Trevor began flipping channels again while he pondered his new – if vague – insights into Paxton from last night. Trevor had definitely planned on voting for him. Had what he’d listened to while crammed under the floor changed anything? He had no definitive evidence that Trent Paxton was a bad person. Everything he’d ever known about Paxton had been impressive. Trevor connected with the man’s ideals regarding health care, especially after his own family’s ordeals with the hospital and insurance for his sister.

  And who was to say that Paxton’s plan with Day Eight was bad? It could be to put human simulations to work behind the scenes to determine the most fair and effective policies in the history of the nation… imagine that! As a matter of fact, such a use for the technology could be a godsend.

  And then the word “deploy” hovered over Trevor like an Antonov military aircraft blocking out the warm sun from his thoughts. Paxton had used that specific word: deploy. It conjured images of super-intelligent robots wielding flame throwers and slurping blood from freshly-slain human carcasses to recharge their fuel cells. Freaking Terminators.

  Paxton wouldn’t be involved in anything that insane, would he? Trevor didn’t think so, but the goosebumps on his arms weren’t as sure. There were too many missing details.

  He continued channel surfing. After thirty stations or so, he found a science program about space and the birth of the cosmos. Perfect brain fodder.

  As he watched, Trevor tried to comprehend the vastness of the universe. Nobody knew how big it was. It could even be infinite. The program described the Big Bang, how the universe exploded out from a single point before space and time even existed. Mathematics couldn’t even describe it, and physicists were unable to understand its properties in its earliest moments.

  Trevor let his head fall backward onto the couch so he could stare at his ceiling. His eyes searched for a few of the tiny glow-in-the-dark stars he’d stuck up there years ago. They were barely visible now, in the daytime. But at night, they came to life.

  He’d always been interested in the stars and the universe, always wondered if maybe somewhere in the expanse of space was another planet with life. He’d never imagined that new life would be created right on his own planet, electronically.

  What were humans, anyway? Trevor thought that they were the next stable form of matter. Protons, electrons and neutrons coalesced into atoms, atoms joined into molecules, molecules gathered into cells, cells formed complex systems and produced life that could sustain itself and reproduce, and ultimately built larger and greater things with the matter in the universe… as if life was meant to occur – inevitable, given enough time.

  Yet when he thought about the immeasurable expanse of the universe, he felt insignificant. The world would not notice if he disappeared. Who would miss Trevor Leighton? And likewise, the galaxy probably wouldn’t notice if the entire Earth vanished. Poof! Gone. And he knew the universe would not so much as shrug if the entire galaxy ceased to exist… it was only one galaxy in hundreds of billions.

  As Trevor prepared for bed, he marveled at the complexity of life and struggled to stay afloat as he searched for the meaning of it all.

  What happens inside a black hole? Is there an equation that can describe all of the universe? What is… the meaning of life? And why do some people not get a chance to live it? There were so many things that could not be explained by all the genius in the world… until, perhaps, now? How smart was Ezra, really?

  If Trevor got to speak to her, he would pose her these questions.

  In the back of his mind, Trevor feared one possible response to all of them.

  What if there is no answer? What if there is no meaning to life? What if things just… are?

  Trevor walked with hard feet over to his fridge and reached out his hand to open the door for a bedside bottle of water, then paused. Stuck to its surface with a scattering of magnetic poetry was a discolored Polaroid of his sister, Amy. She wore a birthday hat and was captured forever stuffing cake into her mouth with her hand. Two particular words of the poetry that held the photo screamed at him from odd angles: “all” and “gone.” In the wake of the news program’s story of infants dying at a nursery, seeing his sister reminded him that she was no different. Taken from the world without reason. All gone.

  Another word of magnetic poetry came into focus: “God.” Trevor let out a single snort, then made a palette of his hand and wiped that section of the fridge’s door bare. Words slammed into each other and sent the picture spinning through the air to the floor.

  Then he carefully picked out a few words and arranged them into a crooked line in the center of the blank space.

  It simply read: God is nowhere.

  Chapter 25

  Allison in Wonderland

  Trevor stepped out of the limousine in front of Damon Winters’ estate, rejuvenated from his day of relaxation. It was a gorgeous day for November. There was a fresh breeze and the sun glimmered off flecks of mica in the stone driveway.

  Despite Trevor’s eagerness to see Allison again, he felt he’d be missing out on something vital by going inside, away from all this outdoor beauty, and into Damon’s hidden subterranean lab. Trevor silently made a vow to himself to spend a day like this entirely outside, perhaps lying in a grassy park while watching trees sway and clouds drift past. That was something he really hadn’t done since he was a kid.

  Trevor plopped down on the front step and dialed Hillary. Just like before, she picked up precisely after the third ring.

  “Hi, it’s Trevor.”

  “Oh, hey,” Hillary’s mellifluous voice floated from the receiver, “I was just thinking about you.”

  “You were?” he said, leaning back as if hit by surprise.

  “Mm-hm. I’ve been talking with Allison. She really looks up to you. I’ve never seen her grow attached to someone so quickly.”

  Trevor blushed. “She’s growing on me, too. I’ve never been great with kids, but I feel like I’m learning. And I still can’t get over how real she is.”

  “She’s more re
al than a lot of humans out there, walking mindlessly down the street… one track minds. I think you’ll find she’s even more real – in a sense – than many of the people that built her.” Hillary’s voice cut sharp. “Mindlessly tapping away in front of computers, waiting for the day to be over so they can leave and spend their paychecks on big TVs and video games that they’ll use to escape what little life they do have, and they never appreciate what they’ve created.”

  “I hope I’m not like that,” said Trevor, shaking his head.

  “No. No, you’re not like that. At least I don’t think so,” she said, lightening up. “Sorry, I lost my cool there.”

  “Totally understand. Listen, I was just calling to thank you again for helping me fix Allison. You’re a life saver. Literally.”

  “You’re welcome. You know, setting your moment of idiocy aside,” she said (Trevor could hear her smirk), “I’m impressed by your ingenuity. You handled that situation well under pressure. I can see why Damon trusts you.”

  “Speaking of Damon, I was curious how you know him?”

  “Damon? I’ve known him ever since I was little. My dad wasn’t really there for me, but Damon was. And that’s how I ended up where I am now.”

  “You’re his administrative assistant?”

  “Well, I do whatever he needs me to do. I answer phones, I raise simulants, I shuffle papers. Working with simulants is the rewarding part.”

  Trevor stared again at the bits of mica glinting brilliantly in the driveway. “How well do you know him personally? Have you ever been to his house?”

  “I…” Hillary sighed. “Listen, Trevor, it’s nice of you to thank me again, and it’s wonderful that you’re getting along with Allison so well. But we really shouldn’t be talking like this. I’ve got to go.”

  The line clicked.

  Trevor stood and nodded as if he understood, but was disappointed he couldn’t talk more with her. He felt like he was now living in a very small world, and she was one of the few people that he could share it with.

  When he reached Damon’s sanctuary he noticed a new desk set up along the wall. It had a serious-looking computer on it and an ergonomic office chair pushed up to it. Maybe Damon has been communicating with Ezra already and that’s where he does it?

  Trevor stared at it for a bit, then made himself comfortable on the couch with the tablet interface to Allison’s world. As soon as she saw him she bounded off her bed and ran up to her monitor.

  “Hey, last time you said we were going to spend a lot of time together and then you weren’t even here yesterday!” Allison folded her arms.

  “Didn’t your dad tell you that he and I had some important things to do the night before and we needed a break yesterday?”

  “No,” she pouted.

  Trevor felt genuinely bad. “Listen, I’m sorry Allison. If it makes you feel better, I missed you yesterday.”

  “You did?” A smile cracked on her face.

  “I missed you this much.” Trevor spread his hands as wide apart as he could. Allison giggled. “Listen, I’m sorry, from now on I’ll try not to make promises I can’t keep, okay?”

  She considered this. “Okay. I’m not really mad anyway, I just missed you too. A lot, like this much.” She spread her hands as wide as she could, then looked at them, assessing, and brought them a bit closer together. “There, that much!”

  That made him feel better. “So, is there anything special you’d like to do today?”

  “Umm… yes! Can you take me out to the zoo to see the animals and go into the petting zoo where I can pet the nice goats and the bah-bah sheep?”

  A confused look contorted Trevor’s face, lost for words.

  Allison giggled and pointed at him. “Got you! I know I can’t go there… I asked Dad and there are no animals over here to pet other than Hops my frog so that’s okay. Actually Dad said we should watch some movies today because you have other things to do. He said to tell you there is a note by the keyboard over on the desk for you. He said you should read it. I’ll wait.” She grabbed her coloring book and lay down on the floor.

  Allison stuck her tongue slightly out of her mouth as she made steady and precise hand movements, determined to color within the lines. She was coloring in a scene with a small house and a duo of birds in a tree. The adjacent page held an already flawlessly colored-in pair of horses atop a flowery knoll. He was impressed with how her marks never strayed beyond the confines of the thick, dark borders.

  On the desk, Trevor found a fancy piece of stationery sticking out from under the keyboard. Neat, handwritten cursive flowed over the page in a dark green ink. With arguably the most advanced computer technology in the world, Damon had opted to write the old fashioned way.

  Trevor – there is something I need you to work on today.

  Before you get started, I’d like you to play a movie for Allison. You’ve probably noticed the small rack of DVDs and a player on a coffee table on the opposite wall. The player feeds into the TV in her world, and also to the screen opposite the couch. I would appreciate it if you could attach Allison’s interface screen to the mount next to this computer screen so that you can keep her company while she watches.

  Trevor found the rack of children’s movies, and after consultation with Allison, they decided on Alice in Wonderland. It was one of her favorite movies because she loved all the strange talking animals and thought it was cool that Alice was so adventurous.

  He noticed that Allison called the movie Allison in Wonderland, and momentarily wondered how similar she felt to the girl in the movie, trapped in another world. He popped it in and mounted Allison’s tablet beside the computer as instructed.

  “Hold on, don’t start it yet!” Allison placed her coloring book neatly on her bedside table and took out a small panel of buttons from within its drawer. At first, Trevor thought she had her own remote for the DVD player. Allison pressed a few buttons, then put it away. She held her hands above her head like she was waiting to catch something, and Trevor soon saw why: a half-bowling-ball-sized hemisphere began fading in just above her. Once it had become completely opaque, she grabbed it with both hands out of the air – rather swiftly – and found a comfortable spot on her bed to watch the movie from.

  “What’s that you’ve got there?”

  Allison tilted the object toward the on-looking camera. It was a bowl filled with a rainbow of little objects… Trevor couldn’t tell what they were from the resolution of the screen. “It’s popcorn! Yum! You should get some too, it’s real good.”

  That’s a neat trick, thought Trevor. He’d like to be able to materialize things whenever he wanted – a gourmet dinner… a six pack… a briefcase packed with diamonds… a girlfriend. “It’s a lot of different colors?”

  “Yup! Dad made it for me specially. It used to be yellow but then he turned it nice colors so it would be more fun to eat. And it is!” She tossed a piece up in the air and opened her mouth, swaying, to catch it. It bounced off her nose and back into the bowl. She giggled and looked to Trevor, “Okay, you can start it now.”

  Trevor started the movie, then continued reading the note.

  Now, turn on the computer.

  He found the power button and pressed it. There was an electronic hum from the computer case and then the monitor flashed on, showing the computer’s desktop.

  What? Did the computer just boot up? Trevor wasn’t sure he even saw a boot screen… that was the fastest load of an operating system he’d ever witnessed. This is some serious hardware, he thought. All solid state drives?

  The desktop contained a single folder, titled Genetically Adaptive Circuitry 12.1. He recognized it immediately. It was a programming project he’d worked on nearly eight years ago when he first joined the company… right before it had redubbed itself Day Eight. Until then, it had been known as Intelligentech, a mess of a name that was too long for its own good and unwieldy to say.

  This project had gotten Trevor hired, fresh from grad school at U
Mich. He remembered it so clearly. It was one of the most surprising moments of his life.

  He’d given a talk at a genetic algorithms conference in his final year. People were yawning the whole time and checking their watches. Midway through, a man in the front row nodded off and actually somersaulted out of his chair, then left with a bloody nose. At the end, nobody asked any questions, and there was no applause.

  After the room had cleared out, one man in a dark suit and lightly tinted Ray-Bans remained in the back row. Trevor assumed the guy was snoozing behind his shades. But on the way out, the man stood and approached Trevor, removing his sunglasses. He proceeded to grill Trevor with questions until an oncoming lecture forced them out into the hall. Then the man grilled Trevor some more.

  Trevor hadn’t known it at the time, but it was a job interview. And he was acing it. Apparently, this man – a tech scientist from Intelligentech – had seen something in Trevor’s work that nobody else had: promise.

  Trevor had lectured about a Darwinian method for evolving computer chips too complex to design manually. His program treated large numbers of chips like a diverse population of living species vying for dominance. It created tens of thousands of chips with different, semi-random circuitry, and ranked them based on how well they performed desired tasks. Then it “killed” the poorest performing ones, “mated” the rest, and injected random mutations to get a subsequent population of “offspring” chips that would outperform the previous generation. The program repeated this hundreds of thousands of times, and would occasionally evolve a chip that behaved exactly as desired.

  It was survival of the fittest for computer chips.

  But there was an oddity. It sometimes created chips with massive portions of seemingly irrelevant pieces. Trevor, as an afterthought, had included a mere two slides dedicated to discussing these ganglia of miscellaneous logic. He had mentioned that on the surface they appeared to be insignificant, but found a correlation between these ganglia in a population’s ancestors and timely arrival at solutions. Often a small mutation inside one or a minuscule change to its connectivity to the rest of the circuit could have far-reaching effects.