I nodded, and she led me down the hallway, away from where my wife just was. We stopped in front of a thick glass wall where a MediBot stood over a small incubator pod with a tiny baby inside.
“What are they doing to her?” I asked.
“She was born premature and will need to be in a safe, warm place to help her continue to develop and get stronger for some time. The MediBot will keep an eye on her over the next few days,” Sarah explained.
Again, I could only nod in response, as the words were a jumbled mess in my brain.
“Did you and your wife discuss a name?” Sarah cautiously asked.
I shook my head. “Selena said the name would come to us when we met her for the first time.” I recalled countless nights discussing names and whether the child would be a boy or a girl, but my wife, Selena, had always believed in fate and that the stars would show her a name when the time came.
“And did you see a name when you looked at her?” Sarah asked.
I stared at the baby, her tiny hands smaller than my pinky finger. Her eyes were closed, and tubes and wires were coming out of every part of her body. “I can’t see anything…but her.” Selena.
Sarah responded. “Selena is a beautiful name.”
I shook my head again. I couldn’t say my wife’s name everyday knowing I’d never speak it to her again. I wouldn’t allow myself to be tortured like that. But as I looked at the tiny baby, the one that was a part of me and a part of Selena, the name came to me.
“Lena. Her name is Lena.”
Chapter Two
I don’t know how I slept that night. And when I woke the next morning, I almost wondered if it had all been a horrible nightmare. But the uncomfortable hospital chair and the countless tubes coming out of my baby Lena’s body reminded me that it was all true—a horrible reality I was now fully aware of.
I managed enough strength to get myself a coffee from the VendiBot on the wall, but when I punched in the code for two cups, I realized it’d take a long time for me to get used to the fact that I was alone and my wife was really gone.
The caffeine didn’t do much in terms of waking me up. The attendants moved at a much quicker pace than I could muster as they changed my daughter’s diaper and fed her a bottle for breakfast. My eyes followed them, but my brain didn’t comprehend what was going on.
“Would you like to hold her, Mr. Coleman?” Sarah asked as she picked up Lena from the small incubator pod.
I don’t know why, but I shook my head. Sarah inclined her head as if to say, “Are you sure?” but instead I crossed my arms and looked away from my baby girl.
I was ashamed of myself, ashamed that I couldn’t even hold my daughter, but I no longer had my wife’s strength to comfort me. I was no longer sure I could do this, especially not alone.
Sarah placed Lena back in the pod and closed the clear glass lid over top of her before she turned and left me alone again.
I must have dozed off again as I jolted awake at the sound of Lena crying. I was still alone in the room and had no idea what to do. Cautiously, I stepped up to the pod and looked down at the crying baby. She squirmed and fussed while her tiny hands tried to pull at the wires and tubes attached to her.
Somewhere in my mind, I knew I should do something. I should comfort her or pick her up, but all I did was stare. My heart raced with panic.
So I did the only thing I thought to do in that moment. I called for help. “Sarah?” I said, speaking into the intercom on the wall. “Somebody please help me.”
Sarah rushed into the room. “What is it, sir?”
I pointed to the pod where Lena still lay crying. “She won’t stop.”
Sarah’s brow scrunched as she walked over to the pod. She lifted the lid and stroked Lena’s head while whispering, “You’re okay, baby girl. Everything is okay.”
Lena fussed for a few more moments before she went quiet and fell back to sleep. Sarah closed the lid, watching the baby sleep for a moment before she turned back around to face me. “Sir, I apologize for the bluntness of what I am about to say, but this is your baby girl. You are responsible for her life now. And that means you will eventually have to hold her.” My eyes widened in shock at Sarah, and her face softened. “I know this is hard, and you are confused and angry and sad, but she needs you. And she will need you for many years to come.”
Sarah gave me a light squeeze on the shoulder before she left me to my silence.
She was right. And I knew she was right. Yet I didn’t think I was capable of being that man. Truth be told, I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to bring a child into this world, and the only reason I did was because of Selena. But she was gone, and my whole reason for living seemed lost.
My entire life had been spent creating bots and other entities, so much so that I forgot what it’d be like to create a human. It hadn’t occurred to me that a baby was not like a bot. I couldn’t just program it to learn and know things, expecting that to happen overnight. A baby wasn’t expendable or replaceable. A baby needed time and someone to take care of them, to protect them.
And I wasn’t that person.
My breath became labored, and I had a hard time getting enough air in my lungs. The walls seemed to close in on me, and my pulse quickened as I realized I can’t do this. I stood up so quickly that the chair beneath me tipped over behind me, crashing and waking Lena, who cried again.
My ears were ringing, and there was sweat forming at the back of my neck. I couldn’t breathe in this room. I couldn’t breathe in this hospital.
So I ran. I sprinted out the hallway, past a bewildered Sarah and down the stairs. I didn’t stop until I was outside and the cold wet rain soaked my clothes. In the middle of the street, I dropped to my knees and put my head in my hands. I couldn’t do it.
The wind from SPAC’s, Single Person AirCrafts, zoomed past me overhead. They honked as they buzzed above my head, but I couldn’t move. The street vibrated with electricity as the SPACs moved through the city. People all around me were carrying on with their day while I tried to comprehend what had happened. How could they not see I was broken? How could they not know she was gone?
There was shouting in the distance, and I thought someone was saying my name, but I didn’t look up.
The chorus of SPACs honking again and veering out of the way told me the person behind the voice had come out to get me. A strong hand pulled me to my feet and guided me back to the safety of the hospital.
“What were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed,” I glanced up to Peter, a young assistant who had been helping me with a project at work in Sub 9.
“I can’t do this…” I whispered.
Peter’s expression went somber as he steered me to a chair in the waiting room. “I heard what happened. I’m so sorry, Ian.” Peter rested his hands in his lap.
“She’s gone. Selena is gone.” I said, unable to even comprehend what I had said. My beautiful wife, my everything, was gone. And I don’t think I even said goodbye.
“I know,” Peter said. “But she wouldn’t want you to give up. She wouldn’t want to see you like this. You have a daughter now, and she needs her father.”
I was nodding along with Peter as he spoke, even though I had no idea how to do that, how to be a father. But if Selena could see me, she’d be ashamed of the way I was acting. She’d be ashamed to know I couldn’t hold my daughter.
I pushed myself back up, standing on shaky feet as I strolled over to the elevator. Peter followed a few steps behind me as I made my way back to my daughter’s room.
Sarah was in there, holding Lena who was sucking on a bottle. As I walked over, Sarah placed Lena in my arms, and I readjusted the bottle so Lena could continue drinking. She fussed, wriggling her tiny body until she found a comfortable position and began to drink again. Her eyes blinked slowly as she nearly fell asleep in my arms.
I sat in the chair that had been picked up after my outburst. And as I watched my baby girl fall asleep a part
of my heart that was once hollow began to fill up again, I made a vow that I’d be the best father I could be. No harm would ever come to her and I’d love her until my dying breath.
Chapter Three
The sky was bright and sunny on the day that everything changed for a second time. I had been looking out the window at the rising sun on a clear blue morning when an unusual sound came from the incubation pod Lena was sleeping in. She didn’t stir from the alarming sound or the attendants who rushed around her.
I came up behind them and watched over their shoulders as they stared at Lena. The screen still blared its alarm. Lena looked serene and quiet as she slept through it all.
“What is it?” I asked Sarah, who had spent the last few days teaching me how to change and feed my daughter.
“I’m not sure. The MediBot is on its way,” Sarah kept her voice calm and in control, but I felt the panic she was trying to hide from me.
The MediBot strolled in moments later, taking up more space in the room than the three of us combined. Sarah, myself, and another attendant moved out of the way as the MediBot placed its hand over the baby and began its scan.
“What is it?” I asked with impatience.
“The subject has undeveloped lungs and heart. It will not survive more than a few days.” Its stoic voice delivered the news like a punch to the gut.
My knees gave out, and I nearly dropped to the ground. “What do you mean she will not survive? This pod was supposed to fix her, help her live.”
The MediBot didn’t respond.
“Get her new lungs then, and a new heart!” I demanded.
We had the technology. Transplants were a regular occurrence these days and would be an easy fix.
The MediBot didn’t even turn as it responded, “It would be wasteful to take from another subject when this one is already too far gone.”
“What do you mean too far gone?” My voice rose as I pushed my way to the MediBot. “Get her the transplant! Do you know who I am? You will obey my order.”
The MediBot turned to leave the room. I tried to grab its arm to stop it, but the bot was too big and too strong. It flung me out of the way with ease.
“Stop! Come back! Fix her!” I yelled as Sarah and the other attendant held me back. The MediBot strolled out of view.
I turned on them. “Get me another MediBot. Get her the transplant,” I ordered.
Sarah diverted her eyes from mine as she shook her head, “They will all say the same thing. Your daughter is too weak for surgery. At this point, it is unlikely she would even survive the operation.”
“I don’t care how likely you think it is, just do it! I am Dr. Ian Coleman. I created every bot in the entire city of Cytos. I own this hospital. I pay your damn salary! You cannot tell me what is or isn’t possible, you are obligated to do as I tell you to!”
Sarah trembled at the anger in my voice, but I didn’t back down.
“Now go get me another MediBot and set up the operation.”
She didn’t wait for me to say anymore before she scrambled out of the room.
The operation took over eight hours to be completed. Sarah made sure to give me updates along the way, and Peter came to visit and brought food that I didn’t eat. Finally, the surgeons came out and said the operation was complete, and I could see my daughter.
Lena was sleeping once again in the pod when I entered her room. Two small puncture wounds on her chest were the only indication that anything had even taken place over those eight hours.
“How is she?” I asked.
“We won’t know for a few hours if the body will accept the new organs, but your daughter is a fighter.” Sarah gave my shoulder a squeeze as I sat and continued my watchful stare over Lena.
There was the screech of a chair being dragged across the floor, and then Sarah took up a seat beside me while we waited and watched Lena sleep.
Two hours passed before the new MediBot came in to check on Lena. He ran his scan twice before he stated, “The subject’s body is rejecting the organs. End of life transition has begun.”
My mouth hung open as the words set in. Even Sarah was silent beside me. We had both hoped the operation would work. My head dropped into my hands, and for the first time since I arrived in this hospital six days earlier, I cried. It started slowly before it built into uncontrollable sobs. Sarah wrapped her arms around me and tried her best to give me some sort of comfort, but it was no use.
I had already lost my wife, the love of my life, my everything. And now I’d lose the last gift she had given me, our precious daughter, Lena.
“How long?” I whispered between sobs.
“My systems calculate ten hours at the most,” the MediBot said. It turned to leave.
Anger exploded from me, far greater than I thought possible as I took the chair I’d been sitting on and hurled it at the MediBot. The chair slammed against the large metal frame and crashed heavily to the ground. The bot turned to the chair, picked it up, and placed it back on its legs and left—without another word. This bot that I controlled, who I had made, didn’t care that my heart was broken, or that the very reason for its existence no longer made sense to me. I had built these bots, and so many others, to help humans. But it never occurred to me that by not being human they lacked any sense of sympathy or emotion.
These bots were built to make decisions based on facts and data that was irrefutable. They were meant to provide clear and decisive decisions that couldn’t be negated, yet I did not want to accept their answer.
“I’m so sorry,” Sarah said from behind me.
I turned around to face her, and my eyes grew cold. “I wish to take my daughter home.”
“What?” Sarah’s brow creased.
“I do not want her to die in this place around heartless machines that will do nothing to save her.” I had made the decision as fast as the words came out. “I will not have her die in the same place her mother did. I will bring her home, and I will love and care for her until her last breath.”
Sarah looked surprised before she reluctantly nodded and gathered things for me to bring Lena home. She filled a bag with fresh diapers, formula, and extra blankets. Carefully, she removed the cords and tubes still connected to Lena. Lena fussed before I carefully picked her up and she settled into my arms.
“I will have your aircraft brought to the front,” Sarah said as she placed the bag over my shoulder and left the room.
Together, Lena and I made our way out of the hospital to begin our short journey home. As I stepped out the hospital doors, I said a silent goodbye to Selena, and I made her a promise that our daughter would live a long life.
Chapter Four
I think I made the decision before I even realized I had. The mind of the creator worked faster than the human mind. Before I had even stepped foot in the building, the only assistant I trusted with this idea was waiting for me outside of Sub 9. Peter.
This wasn’t only where I worked, but where I lived. The building I had created had become my home a long time ago. It was only natural that I’d eventually convert a few floors into a residence so Selena and I could live here together. We had set up a room for our future baby and painted it a neutral color so no matter what gender the baby was, they’d feel safe and at home in this new place.
“I came as soon as I got the message.” Peter rushed to catch up as I sped past him. The guards at the front of the door didn’t spare us a second glance.
“Have you set everything up yet?” I asked Peter as I punched the button on the elevator for the top floor.
“Yes, I have. But…are you sure?” Peter was one of the few to ever question me, but it was that utter honesty that led me to trust him in this situation.
“Yes, I am sure. It is my only option.” The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to my private office.
I stepped into the room and made my way to the back where a separate door led to my personal lab space. Peter had indeed set everything up. I placed Lena on the c
old metal table. She squirmed and curled up at the cold before I grabbed a blanket from the bag and placed it under her.
She was too weak to fight back or even cry. Her eyes barely blinked open, and her chest rose and fell with shallow, labored breaths.
“We haven’t tried this with an actual human before. The tests haven’t even confirmed if it can even be done,” Peter reminded me.
I stepped around him and connected the cables from the machine beside the table Lena lay on across her tiny body. “The virtual tests have been successful. We have tried it a hundred times, and it has worked just as many. This will work.” I tried to assure Peter as much as I was trying to assure myself.
In truth, I wasn’t sure if it’d work. We had been working on a project, simply called Carbons, which revolutionized the bots I had already created. This new model was the next step in the evolution of machine and man. It combined all the things the bots were created for, advanced mental skills, physical strength and agility, decisive decision-making, but with one key factor added in…human emotions.
Even before this horror had fallen upon me, my bots had a flaw. They didn’t have the capacity for emotions, sympathy, or any human feeling that made the hard decisions easier to understand. Despite creating something that took over menial tasks for us, humans were still needed to make sense of it all.
And that was where the Carbons came into fruition. The idea was to create a bot that looked human, sounded human, and had the ability to feel like a human—feel emotions, feel pain, and feel sympathy. The new Carbon models could grow, learn, and age, just like a human, but they could live forever. These are all things my bots needed, and I had missed it in my previous creations. But not with the Carbons. They’d be better; they’d be my legacy.
We had created the Carbon models, but our current tests still left them speaking and deciding like the bots. They looked like humans, and acted like them, but we couldn’t figure out the key to make them…real. So we set up virtual tests where we implanted a human host into the Carbon model through a microchip. And every one of our virtual tests resulted in the Carbon remembering everything our human host knew, along with all the information we fed them. They were an identical replica of the human host in every way and advanced like a bot in more ways than I even understood.
Untold: The Complete Watcher Series Mini Novellas (Watcher #4) Page 5
