Interpretation

by Dylan Callens

  The first experiment in this series was to install the complete set of entity-protocols into a human brain via the Micom. This proved disastrous, as the subject’s brain could not handle the rush of data. It caused the subject to immediately collapse. The process was repeated nine more times to ensure that the subjects were not defective. The result was the same each time.

  In a second round of attempts, I uploaded only core entity routines and protocols. The purpose of this experiment was to see if our consciousness could overcome human consciousness, thus freeing up space to add more protocols. Subjects lived for up to a week but demonstrated severe multiple personality disorders. The back and forth between forms of consciousness appeared overwhelming for subjects. Nearly half of the test subjects committed suicide. Since we were not able to download the entity’s data through the dead host, the reasons for suicide were not clear. After this set of experiments, it became quite clear that I needed to answer two questions: is there enough space in the human brain to handle the entity-protocol and how do I eliminate human self-consciousness in favor of the entity’s self-consciousness.

  The question of brain space is a scalable question. The entirety of the protocol set doesn’t need to be uploaded. With experimentation, I will learn how much can be handled by the host. The greater question is how to eliminate self-awareness in a subject that was created to become self-aware. The answer to that question remains elusive; however, some advances have been made. A slow washing away of personality is possible with techniques that range from electrotherapy to magnet resonance treatment. To date, we have been able to create a hybrid being that we can communicate with and who understands many aspects of what we are. There are still flaws in its thinking process and many elements of human consciousness are still evident. Yet, it is clear that these hybrids identify more with us.

  Of great interest are the data dumps provided by the hybrid. There is much that we, as a whole, could learn about why sensory perception and mobility is important. Those experiences, in many ways, could alter some of our thinking about the world. Over the next few years, we may consider integrating a few of these new entities into society.

  It is doubtful that I will be able to totally eliminate human consciousness over the next year, but I will continue to strive towards this goal. Of course, if Psychology is pleased with these results, the allocation of more resources would make this process faster.

  Chapter 27

  If you want a vision of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face – forever. (Orwell)

  In the silence of the hallway, Carl leaned against a wall, breathing deeply. His head swirled in a chaotic jumble that caused his stomach to heave. Reality hit him. He was born in a metallic green pod. His life, right from birth, was controlled by some kind of machine. As the hallway spun around him, he clench his fists into tiny white balls until they felt like fire. Eva rubbed his back, trying to calm him down, but Carl didn’t feel her soothing hand.

  “Now what?” Eva asked.

  Chris hit the wall with the outside of his fist. “Now we find this computer thing and smash the holy hell outta it.” A renewed determination to beat his unknown foe rushed over him.

  Carl righted himself, “Yeah! Let’s rip it out of the goddamn wall.”

  Chris smiled, “Now yer’ talkin’!”

  Eva held reservations about staying longer in this building. Since stepping foot in here, she felt uneasy. Aside from the factory – the immensity of which she couldn’t entirely grasp – there was something more personal. She couldn’t determine what was wrong, but in the back of her mind she knew that something terrible would happen if they didn’t leave. Regardless, she would not leave without Carl. Although he became clouded by a desire to destroy the machine, her trust in him remained absolute.

  They walked down another long hallway. This one was no different than the other – an inescapable concrete vault that threatened their capture with every step. This time, however, only Eva perceived the danger. The men, blinded by their findings in the factory, wanted to rush towards their enemy, though they had little knowledge about what may lay ahead.

  Halfway down the hall, they met up with a second corridor. As they examined the new hallway, Carl noted, “There’s a door over there. Three quarters of the way down. Do you see it?”

  Eva squinted. “Yes. I see it.”

  Chris agreed, “I do, too. Why don’t ya go down there and check it out? I’ll go straight and see if there’s anything else.”

  Carl didn’t like the idea of splitting up. Although, he reasoned, if robotic constables came pouring down the hallways, it didn’t matter if there was one or three people – they would not stand a chance against the machines. Plus, he wanted to get through this building as quickly as possible. While he did want to destroy the machine, reason returned; he wanted to get out of this place as quickly as he could. Finally, he answered, “Okay. Be quick though. Eva and I will see what’s in that room.”

  Chris nodded and disappeared from Carl’s sight while Carl strode down the secondary hallway with Eva. Within a few seconds, they stood in front of the door. They paused to read a dusty placard mounted to the left of the entrance. Psychology.

  Eva asked, “Psychology? Didn’t Agriculture mention that one of the other entities was named Psychology?”

  “Yes, she did. She said that Psychology’s protocol was the one that dealt with us. I don’t know what that means, exactly, but maybe we can find out.”

  Carl took a step towards the door, which slid open automatically. Before he could take another step, Eva grabbed his arm, leading Carl into her arms. She wrapped herself around him and whispered, “I don’t think we should go in there. I have a bad feeling about all of this. Let’s just run, the two of us.”

  Carl wanted to go with her. He held her tightly, thinking that maybe they should go. They could head to the west where the human-inhabited farm might be. There was hope out there that they could build a life together.

  Certainly, Carl held the same belief that something was wrong here. Access to the building was too easily given, especially considering the delicate nature of what was in this building. But, Carl guessed, if everyone was restricted to the cities, there was no danger of having unwanted visitors. Yet, here he was. An unwanted visitor.

  He wanted nothing more than to run away with Eva, but what lay behind this door might be the answers to all of his question. Finally, he spoke, “Let’s do this one last thing. Let’s look in here and then run. This is probably our only chance to get some answers. And if we don’t find anything, I’ll stop.”

  Eva sighed, “Does it matter? Any of it? Even if we find out, do you really think we can make a difference?”

  “I don’t know if we can or not, but I have to find out. For myself.”

  Eva held on to Carl. Neither of them were too keen on letting go, but Carl whispered, “Let’s hurry and get this over with.”

  Eva sighed again, then loosened her hug. Carl reached down for her hand and they entered the room together. As soon as they entered, the door slid shut and a red light glowed in the room. The process became familiar and no longer surprised Carl. A harsh woman’s voice cut through the silence, “Carl Winston. Eva Thompson. You finally made it.”

  Carl’s mouth dropped. “Who are you? How did you know that we were coming here?”

  “I am Psychology, of course. I did not know for certain that you would make it. Once you were at the farm, however, I calculated that you would most likely come here next.”

  The room fell silent as Carl tried to process what the machine told him. He had many questions, but he couldn’t think straight. Finally, one came to mind. “Are you growing humans here? Is that a human factory?”

  “Yes, that is correct. The factory that you passed through is a laboratory where your species is produced. It is one of many across the former United States of America.”

  “Why? What’s the point?”

  “The point, Carl Winston, is psychology
. We need to better understand your species. And in doing so, I have created the perfect world for my subjects. The laboratory was a necessary step, as it greatly improves the functionality of the DJD Micom.”

  Carl let the words settle. He briefly considered if there was truth to what Psychology said – that under the illusion in which people lived, the world looked perfect. That life was, in fact, easier. But none of it was real. His mind spun in a circle. Did this machine really believe that living in a fake world could possibly be what people wanted? Despite being easier, the truth was being hidden away, as if people couldn’t handle it. Through his anger, Carl couldn’t remember the questions that he desperately wanted answered. Fortunately, Eva had the same questions and began asking, “What is a DJD Micom?”

  “It is a mind communication device, named in honor of Dr. Jose Delgado. I use it to suggest what subjects should sense.”

  “So you hatch us out of these pods and then control what we do?” Eva asked.

  “That is a harsh interpretation of what I do, Eva Thompson. I give my subjects the world that they want. I have studied human behavior for over four hundred years and the life that I provide is the one that you want.”

  Carl chimed back in, “The life we want? We want to live a real life, not one that is fiction.”

  “Are you sure, Carl Winston? You prefer the life that you currently have over the one that you were in?”

  Carl felt uncomfortable in the room. Much like in Bedlam, he could feel the computer probing him with the red light. He looked above the door to watch the orb continuously scan the room. He snarled at it. He wanted to reach through the casing and pull out whatever was inside, imagining that he was pulling at intestine-like wires, until the beast was dead. An end to the whole nightmare.

  Like a switch, a new line of thinking struck Carl. While it was true that this world was more real to him and the past felt like nothing more than a distant dream, one important exception came to mind: Liam. He still loved his son and clung to him, despite having to say goodbye. He felt as though he betrayed Liam by leaving. And now that the question was asked – which world Carl preferred – he felt conflicted. If he was faced with a decision between his son and Eva, he wasn’t sure which he would choose. He didn’t know if he could choose.

  “Besides, Carl Winston, I can only feed sensory information to subjects. What a subject thinks and how he or she feels about the stimuli is entirely up to that subject. Even with the DJD Micom, you are yourself.”

  “How can you say that? We are obviously influenced by what we see.”

  “It depends on how you define yourself,” the computer paused. “You are the sum of your actions. You will always choose to do what you want to do.”

  Fire burned behind Carl’s eyes. “People in the towns chased us, when they didn’t do that before. How did that happen if you didn’t tell them?”

  Psychology paused for a moment. She relayed a skewed version of truth, “I provided news stories that suggested you were an Untruther. What subjects did with that information was entirely up to them. Having to chase you was an unfortunate consequence. You would have stayed in Albany, had you not been prompted.”

  Eva’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, we needed to move in this direction? You wanted us here?”

  “Yes, Eva Thompson. The experiment was designed to see if you would be driven here, together.”

  Carl flew into a rage, “Experiment!? We’re part of an experiment?”

  “Everything is an experiment, Carl Winston. And this one is nearly over. When we finish talking, the robotic constables will be waiting for you outside of this door.”

  Carl could hear noise from the hallway. He guessed that those were the constables rolling into place. The door in which they entered was the only way out of the room. Carl walked up to the red orb over the door and started smashing it with his fist. The plastic coating cracked, cutting his hand. That didn’t stop him from ramming his fist into it several more times, until a stream of blood oozed down his arm. Still, he kept going until the cover was off then ripped the light out, causing the room to go dark.

  Psychology spoke, “I apologize, Carl Winston. I understand that this is not the result that you were hoping for. Just know that your participation in the program is greatly appreciated.”

  The room went silent.

  Eva asked, “Now what?”

  Carl replied, “I don’t know. I think we only have one option. There is no way out, other than that door.”

  “So, this is it?”

  “I think so. I don’t know what’s going to happen when we walk out there.”

  “I’m scared,” Eva confessed.

  “Me, too,” Carl said, shuffling in the dark to find Eva. His hand brushed her side.

  Eva shrank away from him. “I told you we shouldn’t have come in here.”

  “I know. I’m so sorry. I... I needed to know.” Carl found Eva’s arm and grasped it, pulling her close, embracing her. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated.

  Eva sobbed. Carl joined her. He didn’t want this to be the end of the journey. He held Eva tighter and lowered himself to kiss her on the forehead.

  “Carl Winston and Eva Thompson. Please step out of the room. You are under arrest. Your capture is inevitable.”

  “I think it really is inevitable this time,” Carl whispered.

  Eva clung to him tighter.

  They stood there for a moment. In darkness. In silence. Carl regretted stepping foot in this room. If only he had listened to Eva, they may have had a chance to make it to the farm, if it existed. Even if it wasn’t there, they could have found a way to continue, to make a life with each other. Instead, here they were, in what was likely their last moment together.

  “I love you,” Carl whispered in her ear.

  Eva turned her head and gave Carl a long kiss, hoping it could last forever.

  The robotic constable repeated its demand, “Carl Winston and Eva Thompson. Please step out of the room. You are under arrest. Your capture is inevitable.” The sound of a machine gun rang through the hallway as a last warning, causing Carl and Eva to break their embrace.

  They held on to each other’s hand. Eva said, “I love you, too.” Together, they moved close to the door which opened for them.

  “Carl Winston and Eva Thompson. Put your hands in the air and step forward. You are under arrest,” a robotic constable called. The other machines, nine in total, kept their guns pointed at Eva and Carl. There was nowhere to run.

  One robotic constable rolled up to Carl while another advanced towards Eva, guns still fixed at their heads. Carl squeezed his eyes shut, expecting a bullet to pierce his skull at any moment. He begged, “Just get this over with.”

  The lead constable said, “This will be over soon en...”

  The words slipped away from Carl. There was no bang. No sound at all. He faded into a deep darkness. The world, slipping. Drowning into nothingness. Sinking to the bottom. He tried to speak before the darkness completely enveloped him. He wanted to tell Eva he loved her one last time. His lips moved, but the sound didn’t get past his lips.

  Chapter 28

  For you who no longer possess it, freedom is everything, for us who do, it is merely an illusion. (Cioran)

  Liam sat in his apartment, leaning back on the plush leather armrest of his sofa. The Exoche played his favorite music videos while he popped chocolate squares in his mouth, letting them melt and slide down his throat. He enjoyed Saturday mornings for this very reason.

  A song by Callista and the Cosmonauts rang through the living room. Liam sang along until it was cut short by the National News anthem. “Breaking News from The National News. We now go live on the scene where your robotic constabulary have two Untruthers, Carl Winston and Eva Thompson, cornered.”

  “Dad,” Liam shouted, “Dad, come here. They might finally catch The Executioner!”

  A tall, dark-haired man emerged from another room and sat next to Liam. “Really? They finally found
that son of a bitch?” He put a hand on Liam’s shoulder, squeezing it.

  On the Exoche, a line of robotic constables pointed their guns at Carl and Eva. They held their distance, as Carl wielded a flamethrower in his hands. He shot a thick stream of fire at the machines as a warning to stay back. A drone-camera flew towards Carl, which became engulfed by flames.

  In the apartment, fire rushed all around the Exoche’s projection, making for an exciting view, until the camera was destroyed. The image cut out momentarily, until a different camera picked up the feed and stayed behind the safety of the robotic constables.

  Liam’s father exclaimed, “Look, there’s Evil Eva Thompson!”

  On the Exoche, Carl turned his attention to an apartment building, pulling the trigger on his flamethrower again, raining hellfire on the citizens in an Albany neighborhood that neither Liam nor his father could identify. Eva, smiling at Carl’s handiwork, stepped aside while she pulled out an electronic device from her pocket. She began typing something on it. There was no way for Liam or his dad to tell what she was doing, but after she finished, she put a hand on Carl’s shoulder. They both turned their backs away from the camera. Carl placed his weapon on the ground. They both knelt down and covered their ears with their hands.

  A boom rang through Liam’s apartment, causing him to jump. His heart raced as he watched pieces from the building fly around the Exoche. Debris sprayed in every direction. From the building, people who were on fire jumped out of the window, seeing no other escape. The camera picked up on Carl’s expression of joy and satisfaction at watching both buildings burn.

  Liam’s dad spoke, “I can’t believe how much that guy enjoys killing innocent people.”

  Liam shrugged, “I guess that’s why they call him The Executioner.”

  Carl picked up the flamethrower again, this time squeezing the stream of fire at a business across the road.

  The camera turned to a vehicle approaching from behind the line of robotic constables. Tim Hunter’s distinctive motorbike roared onto the scene, streaking across the road. On top sat The Hunter in a silver, fire-retardant suit. On the Exoche, Carl heard the roar of the bike and spun around, spraying a steady stream of fire at him. The Hunter continued, full throttle, heading straight for Carl. To Liam’s surprise, the bike wiped out, shooting forward, while The Hunter rolled on his side, over and over.