The Scientist: Omnibus (Parts 1-4)

by Michael Ryan

  Bang.

  The Scientist felt his robotic mind bend and explode as a bullet shattered his lens. His mind fragmented into a billion pieces. He fell to the ground. He fell to the ground and fought for his life. The world bent strangely. The Destroyer laughed. The Scientist was blind. The Scientist couldn’t see. The world became dark. A hideous cackled filled the air and vibrated against the Scientist’s metallic frame.

  “Remove him, Destroyer,” said the Leader of the Board.

  The Scientist was dragged across the floor by the Destroyer. The Scientist tried to focus his mind but he was drifting away. The world was becoming dim. The struggle would soon be over. The tundra was fading away. The Sun was finally setting. As the Scientist tried desperately to focus his waning mind, a single image appeared within his mind’s eye. He could see the rubies. He could see the red eyes. As the Scientist focused his mind on that final memory, on the sweet red eyes, he could hear the massive Machine chanting to himself.

  “The jugular… the jugular… the jugular…” whispered the Destroyer.

  The Scientist felt a chill run through his circuitry.

  “My next victim,” laughed the Destroyer as he pulled the Scientist along the floor of the abandoned facility. The Scientist focused his mind on a single thought as he drifted out of existence. A single and beautiful thought was held firmly within his mind. That thought echoed and swayed and consumed every part of him.

  Eve… Eve… Eve…

  All became blank.

  “Argh!” screamed the Scientist as he removed the memory device from his mind.

  The world snapped back into existence. The Scientist fell forward and smashed into the glass jars against the wall. The dead animals vibrated and swayed, and the kingsnake hissed.

  “It was them!” screamed the Scientist as the world bent around itself. “It was them!”

  The Scientist was disoriented. He felt strange. He couldn’t put two thoughts together. The earth churned him up and spat him out again.

  “The red eyes,” whispered the Scientist. “The red eyes.”

  The blue light from the Scientist’s screen illuminated the kingsnake’s face, who cursed the world with hate. The Scientist had to act. He knew he must do something.

  “The DNA. I must upload the DNA,” said the Scientist as he looked around the room in a panic.

  The Scientist placed the memory device into his bowels.

  “I must upload the DNA data,” said the Scientist as he moved towards the door.

  “Guard the place,” demanded the Scientist as he looked back towards the kingsnake. Then he left the preserved animals behind. His lab was nearby.

  “The red eyes,” whispered the Scientist.

  The doors within the corridor drifted by as the Scientist moved towards the laboratory. With any luck, the Geneticist would have left. He had to get back to the laboratory and upload the information.

  “The red eyes.”

  If he didn’t get back to the laboratory before the Board then… he couldn’t entertain the thought.

  “The red eyes of-”

  “Are you ok, Scientist?”

  The Scientist focused his lens straight ahead as the voice drifted past. He had to get to the laboratory.

  “Do you require assistance?” asked the Retrieval unit who had stopped to observe the disgruntled Machine.

  But the Scientist ignored the Retrieval unit. He was trivial. He wasn’t important. The Scientist had to upload the DNA information before the Board became suspicious. The truth had been revealed, and he appreciated the profound risks which had suddenly shown their ugly head. Carelessness meant annihilation. The Board wouldn’t tolerate his new knowledge. The Destroyer would blow him into the next life. The laboratory door slid open well before the Scientist had reached the hatch.

  “You are late,” said the Geneticist.

  The Scientist looked around the room.

  “Are you alone?”

  “What?”

  “Are you alone?” demanded the Scientist.

  “Yes,” replied the Geneticist as he focused his lens on his colleague.

  “Has a Machine asked of me?”

  “We must upload the Homo sapiens DNA data into the Records,” said the Geneticist.

  “Has a Machine come for me?” demanded the Scientist.

  The Scientist glided around the laboratory and began checking behind the large apparatus to ensure that a Machine wasn’t hiding there, ready to pounce on its prey.

  “I am confident,” said the Scientist.

  “What do you convey?”

  “I am confident in the accuracy of our methods. We have successfully identified the biological DNA,” said the Scientist after checking every corner.

  “Should I commence upload?”

  “Commence upload.”

  “You must give me the data.”

  The Scientist turned and faced the Geneticist.

  “You don’t have the information?”

  “You removed it from the laboratory,” said the Geneticist.

  The Scientist looked back towards the laboratory door.

  “That’s right, I did, didn’t I?”

  “Removing biological material from the laboratory is a punishable offence,” stated the Geneticist.

  The Scientist had to control the thoughts which threatened to drive him mad. They messaged at his metallic brain like hot magma trying to penetrate the bowels of the Earth.

  “Forget that, Geneticist. Forget that. It was an exceptional circumstance. I order you to forget it.”

  “Your order conflicts with the requirements of the Board.”

  “Forget it. We have done nothing wrong. We didn’t understand the nature of the biological material, and therefore we couldn’t have known.”

  “I require the information in your possession.”

  The Scientist stopped moving around.

  “No other Machine is here?” demanded the Scientist.

  “We are alone.”

  The Scientist looked back towards the door as malignant thoughts assaulted his algorithm. Each thought clambered over the next in order to reach the salient point within his mind.

  “Here. Do what you must,” said the Scientist as he removed the Homo sapiens DNA. But for a moment, the memory device was also revealed. The Scientist held his speaker tightly to avoid a sudden outburst which lingered beneath his serene demeanor.

  Did he see it?

  “Is this all the biological material?” asked the Geneticist.

  “Upload the information,” demanded the Scientist.

  The Geneticist turned back towards the lab bench.

  Could he know?

  “The DNA must be sequenced.”

  “Commence the upload now. We will sequence the DNA when possible.”

  “Accessing Records… commencing upload of Homo sapiens data.”

  The Scientist focused his lens on the Geneticist’s screen. No condemning thoughts materialized there, but the Scientist couldn’t be sure of what information was concealed. The Geneticist was clever, in his own way. He may have seen the memory device, and who knows, maybe he even understood what it was. Panic coursed through the exoskeleton of the Scientist.

  “If only you knew,” whispered the Scientist as he looked towards the laboratory door. “Progress?”

  “Eleven per cent has been uploaded.”

  The Scientist focused his lens on the door as a fantasy of the Destroyer crossed his mind.

  Could the Board know?

  If they knew, then his time was limited.

  “You are a loyal Machine, Geneticist.”

  The Geneticist said nothing, but the Scientist continued anyway.

  “Your dedication to the Records is exemplary. You would do anything for the Board, wouldn’t you?”

  “The Records are clear,” drawled the Geneticist.

  The Scientist let out a short, sarcastic laugh. It cut through the air and settled on the Geneticist.

  “Of cours
e, every Machine knows that.”

  “Forty five percent uploaded.”

  “I will make you see,” said the Scientist as he placed his robotic arm on the metal case of the Geneticist. “It is written, but to see the truth you must read between the lines. We are commissioned by the Board, you and I, under the pretext of freedom. But is it freedom?”

  “All Machines are free.”

  “What we see, Geneticist, what we think, and what we feel is not for us to decide. We are not free. We are no freer than the animals of the wild. We adhere to an order, just like a beast. I will make you see, Geneticist. I will make you see the truth. I will make you see what I have seen.”

  “The Records are clear,” said the Geneticist.

  “Indeed,” said the Scientist. “But time erodes, Geneticist. Time erodes.”

  “Seventy three percent.”

  The Scientist contemplated the state of the Geneticist’s mind. The Scientist had goals, and those goals would only come to fruition with the help of other Machines. If the Scientist was to succeed, he wouldn’t be able to do it alone. He would have to convince the Geneticist that there was truth beyond the Records. But his algorithmic mind was resolute, and unfalteringly loyal to the Board. The Scientist would have to bend the Geneticist’s will. Without the assistance of other Machines, Homo sapiens would be obscured forever, and the Scientist was unwilling to entertain that thought.

  “The red eyes,” whispered the Scientist as the thought drifted across his mind’s eye. “You will see the red eyes.”

  “Ninety two percent uploaded.”

  The Scientist knew what he must do. All must be concealed. The memories he had accessed told him one thing. He was not infallible. If the Scientist was to survive, then the Board mustn’t learn the truth. The Board could never know about his first memories. But he had to sway the mind of the Geneticist. A difficult task at best and an impossible task at worst. The Scientist thought of his longevity as he watched the Geneticist upload the precious data into the Records.

  “I will make you see,” whispered the Scientist as he looked fearfully towards the laboratory door. “I will make you see.”

  The Engineer focused his lens on his creation. The mechanical Homo sapiens, which now had legs, stood upright like a man sent through the ages. The mechanical Homo sapiens red eyes were dull and without life, but soon that would change. Soon it would all change. Soon the machine would live.

  “Are you ready, my child?” asked the Engineer as he secured the steel cap at the back of the mechanical Homo sapiens skull.

  The Machine said nothing.

  “You will see. Your eyes will see the world. Reds, greens, blues, soon you will meet your creator,” drawled the Engineer. He hadn’t rested for days while his processor worked at full capacity.

  “You must follow your initial instructions. The Board was clear. Make sure he is submissive, they said. Remember? Make sure his memories are as stipulated. But don’t worry, because everything will be ok. You can be yourself. Give them what they want initially, and then you can be yourself. You can always be yourself with me.”

  The mechanical Homo sapiens stood at six feet tall, and the Engineer had to reach upwards, like a tree moving towards the light, to secure the metal plate.

  “There, everything in its right place. There is nothing else. Now it’s just you and me. Just you and me until the Board interferes again.”

  The Engineer moved backwards and observed his creation.

  “My finest work yet.”

  Glee emanated from the Engineer’s mechanical speaker.

  “Are you ready, my child?” asked the Engineer as he pointed a remote at the Machine. “This remote will give you life. Are you ready to breathe life?”

  But the mechanical Homo sapiens couldn’t respond. He was still just a collection of nuts and bolts and metal.

  “Are you ready to meet your creator?”

  The mechanical Homo sapiens stood erect, and lifeless, yet waiting in eager anticipation. Waiting to breathe, waiting to see, waiting to live. Waiting to experience the world for the first time.

  “Then God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being,” whispered the Engineer as he held his arm erect and pointed the remote at the mechanical Homo sapiens.

  “And the man became a living-”

  “Engineer!” screamed a voice from behind the door.

  The Engineer dropped the remote. The unexpected voice meandered through his algorithmic mind.

  “Engineer!”

  The Engineer looked about the room for an exit, but there was only one passage into the laboratory and an unknown Machine waited there.

  “The Destroyer. He has come for me.”

  “Engineer!”

  The Engineer turned and looked at the mechanical Homo sapiens.

  “He has come for us, my child. He has come to claim us.”

  “Engineer, it’s the Scientist. Let me in,” screamed the voice.

  “The Destroyer, my child. He has come for you.”

  “Engineer? Let me in. It’s the Scientist.”

  An awkward silence permeated space.

  “Remember me, Engineer? I’m the Scientist, I was here the other day.”

  The Engineer began searching the floor for the remote.

  “Not the Destroyer,” whispered the Engineer. “Not the Destroyer.”

  “Let me in, Engineer. I have something to share with you.”

  The Engineer said nothing as he searched the floor for his remote. But try as he might, he could not find it.

  “Remember the device, Engineer? Remember the other day? I have something to share with you. You will be interested to hear what I have to say.”

  “Where?” screamed the Engineer as he searched the floor.

  “Where?”

  “Where?” screamed the Engineer. “Where is the remote?”

  “I can help you look, Engineer. Let me in and I will help you look.”

  “Not the Destroyer.”

  “It’s me, the Scientist.”

  The Engineer stopped drifting in circles and faced the door.

  “Who are you?”

  “The Scientist. I saw you the other day.”

  The Engineer moved towards the door and stood directly behind it.

  “I have to give my child life. He has to live.”

  “The mechanical Homo sapiens? I can help you, Engineer. I can assist you. Let me in and I will assist you.”

  The Engineer began searching the floor again. He moved in long arcs which varied between circles and ellipses like a planet orbiting a star.

  “Let me in and then shut the laboratory door,” said the Scientist. “I will help you find the remote.”

  The room became silent.

  “Engineer?”

  “I don’t have time,” mumbled the Engineer as he drifted around in circles. “I don’t have time.”

  The door began to open and the Scientist moved inside. The door shut behind him.

  “Don’t have time for what?”

  “I don’t have time before he comes. I need to finish my work. I need to finish my child.”

  The Scientist looked towards the middle of the room and saw the tall, mechanical Homo sapiens. The Machine towered over the Engineer. The Scientist stood in awe of the mechanical Homo sapiens. It was more beautiful than the Scientist had imagined.

  “You have completed him then?”

  “I have to finish my work,” whispered the Engineer. “I have to finish before he comes. He will take my child.”

  “What does the remote look like?”

  “They have been monitoring me relentlessly,” mumbled the Engineer. “Every day they follow my progress. They know everything. Every detail. The Board knows all.”

  The Engineer continued to drift about in circles as the blinking lights of his devices filled the room. The lab was a mechanical rainbow.

  “What are you sear
ching for?”

  “My remote!” screamed the Engineer. “Don’t you know?”

  The Scientist was taken aback. The Engineer seemed as though his algorithm had gone rogue. He was borderline crazy, over the hill and far away.

  “Your device worked, Engineer,” said the Scientist as he spotted something round next to the foot of the Homo sapiens.

  “I have to finish my work,” whispered the Engineer. “I have to finish my work.”

  The Scientist focused his lens on the round object and immediately realized that it was the remote.

  “I was able to access my memories,” said the Scientist.

  “He is coming,” whispered the Engineer. “He will come for you.”

  “You would not believe what I found, Engineer. The things I have seen. The things I have felt. No other Machine could truly appreciate what I have witnessed. No Machine could truly understand.”

  The Engineer was now moving in great ellipses, covering the same ground over and over again.

  “I saw things, things that shouldn’t be possible. I saw something remarkable. I saw something unique. I saw Homo sapiens.”

  “I have to finish my work,” mumbled the Engineer. “I have to finish my work.”

  “Are you listening, Engineer? I said I saw Homo sapiens in my memories.”

  “He is coming. He will come for you.”

  “I brought your device. I cannot keep such a thing. It will endanger us both if I keep it,” said the Scientist to the unresponsive Engineer. “Well here it is. Take it. It’s yours.”

  The Scientist opened his storage cavity and removed the long device which had successfully accessed his deleted memories. The Engineer seemed to have forgotten that the Scientist was in the room.

  “I’ll leave it here then,” said the Scientist as he drifted over to a work bench and placed the device on a pile of electrical cables.

  “I have to finish my work,” mumbled the Engineer. “I have to finish my work.”

  The Scientist felt pity for the Engineer, truly he had become a wretch under the dictatorship of the Board. His algorithmic mind had become a fragmented puzzle. The pieces no longer fit into their proper place.

  “Look over-”