Synthetics

by B. Wulf

“You’re already dead. You got no heart beat.”

  I spotted the man who said this cutting remark and stepped down into the crowd. They parted in fear as I walked through their midst, ending up in front of a vicious looking skin head, with tattoos everywhere and outrageously droopy jowls. They bounced about when he talked.

  “We don’t want you, tin man.”

  “It’s titanium alloy actually,” I replied, “Not tin.”

  I drew up close so that he had to crane his neck to look me in the face.

  “Hit me,” he said, “Grow some balls and do it.”

  He almost bent over double, laughing at his own joke.

  Grow some balls? I watched the man soar above the crowd, like a ragdoll shot from a cannon, before slamming into a wall and crumpling to the ground in a pathetic heap. Sadly, I only watched this happen in my imagination, as I let Cole and several policemen drag me away.

  ***

  “They hate me,” I said, “All of them.”

  We sat in the CANA lobby watching the seething crowd. Cole was sipping a coffee.

  “It’s because they don’t know you. They fear you.”

  “I thought I was a celebrity, but they hate me.”

  “They’re human Fletcher, to be human is to possess the inbuilt ability to hate a stranger. We hate what we fear and we fear what we don’t understand. And you Fletcher, are beyond comprehension.”

  “And I’m not human to them?”

  “I don’t know what they think. They’re just a few nuts with picket signs. They don’t represent everyone.”

  “Perhaps they are jealous? Everyone thinks I’m immortal and I guess I will be soon.”

  “You will never stop being mortal Fletcher. Even if the Full Integration works for you, mankind is very good at finding ways to kill things. I don't think we will ever be truly immortal.”

  “Do you reckon this is right?” I asked, “What we're doing?”

  “Right?” Cole laughed. Well I assumed it was a laugh. “Morality is just the cloak we use to disguise business ventures. Perhaps this is beneficial for humanity, perhaps it is the key to utopia, but it also opens up an entire market to be exploited which CANA has the monopoly on.”

  I felt like laughing wryly.

  “Imagine the ad campaign,” I said, “'Have you tried Immortality? It can all be yours for three easy payments of your heart, soul and vital organs.'”

  Cole did a little shrug laugh that was closer to a cough.

  I looked at him long and hard.

  “You’re the same as them,” I said finally.

  “How?” He took another sip.

  “You aren’t getting integrated because the idea disgusts you.”

  Cole just stared at me with his cup halfway to his mouth.

  “I disgust me,” I added.

  Cole shook his head and muttered something under his breath.

  “I have kids,” he said, “How can I be a father if I’m too cold to hug.”

  Install heat pads?

  “You wouldn’t understand Fletcher.”

  You wouldn’t understand Fletcher?

  I paused, gripped the chair next to Cole with both hands, and then tore it in two. Then I left Cole alone, still quietly sipping his coffee. I wouldn’t understand?

  Chapter 18

  “Did I do the right thing Fletcher?”

  Sasha was sitting cross-legged on the floor of his office, gazing out across Washington. I sat down beside him.

  “No,” I said simply.

  He shrugged and then nodded. Whether I took him by surprise I don’t know. He probably processed events too fast to display any shock.

  “I feel remorse.”

  “I don’t,” I replied, “I tried to feel it before but now I can only think it.”

  Sasha turned to me.

  “You are a victim Fletcher, of all this. I feel no end of shame; it has kept me awake for days. In fact, I have forgotten how to sleep. All I can do is think. Are we murderers?”

  I should be back in New Zealand. Cutting my feet on seashells and smiling at the coastline. I could no longer picture the faces of my loved ones. I found that I did not want to.

  “You had to do it,” I said, “I had to do it. They were monsters.”

  “I feel like I am the monster now Fletcher.”

  I felt the need to reassure Sasha, even though I was lost myself.

  “It will be worth it. CANA is yours now. You’ve won. Use it. Change the world.”

  Sasha stood.

  “It is not mine Fletcher and it never was and it never should be.”

  “Why are you doing this Sasha? You’ve put everything into CANA. Why? Cole said something happened to you when you were young.”

  Sasha paused in thought.

  “The past is gone, I can only look to the future.”

  “I want to know,” I insisted.

  Sasha stood.

  “But I cannot tell,” he said softly.

  “Then you must still be human?” I said, “If you still feel the same pains.”

  He left without saying anything. To go where, I don’t know. He was probably just snobbing me.

  ***

  That afternoon I looked down from my window at the protesters who were still gathered around CANA. At the edge of the group stood a somber man, his face drawn and haggard. He was looking up at me with tortured eyes. I was frozen in horror by his face. He held a picket sign that was different to all the others. It simply said two words, ‘Come home.’ I retreated from the window, stunned. When I finally looked back, the man was gone. Perhaps I was finally going insane?

  ***

  “I need you to do something for me Cole.”

  I had tracked down Cole, who was in the lab fiddling with a computer.

  “And what is that Fletcher?”

  “You're in charge of the operation right? For the full integration?”

  He stopped typing and gave me his full attention.

  “Yes,” he said hesitantly.

  “I need you to…”

  “Wait,” he cut in, “Your going through with it?”

  “Yeah I am.”

  “Why?”

  “I have my reasons,” I said, “So can I continue?”

  He sighed and shook his head, “Yup go on.”

  “Can you make me forget? Like when I wake up, I’m wiped, I’m new.”

  “Why would you want me to do that?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  Cole fidgeted in his seat.

  “I could,” he said, “But it’s unethical I’m sure. You don’t want to do this.”

  “I want this Cole.”

  “Is your skin too cold Fletcher?”

  “You’d get frostbite if you touched me.”

  “Okay,” said Cole, “I’ll do it, but under duress. ”

  “Will I forget everything?”

  “In a way. You will be unable to recall anything without first encountering a stimulus. If you see someone you will recognize them and the memories associated with them will come back. So you will recognize Sasha and I when you wake up… Well you should.”

  “I don’t quite follow,” I said.

  “Okay let’s use Stuart as an example. After the procedure you will have no recollection of Stuart. But if you saw a picture of him then it would all come back to you. It’s like locking your memories in a box. The only way to open the box is with the appropriate key.”

  “You’re sure it will work?”

  “You’re not the first one to ask me this Fletcher.”

  I nodded. “Sounds perfect. Thank you.” I left to go and dispose of any old photos.

  ***

  I had the pleasure of walking to my operating theater. For the entire time, the only thought that flitted through my head was, ‘The floor is green. Why did they make the floor green?’ It got me so perplexed that I even asked the orderly, who was trailing along behind me. She shrugged and started scribbling on her clipboard.

  “I don’t
know sir. Possibly it matched the décor.”

  Sir? What a joke. I was younger then her. She started smiling.

  “What?” I asked, “What’s so funny?”

  “It is ironic though, isn’t it? The floor I mean.”

  “Yes,” I agreed, “I’m glad you find that amusing.”

  Why the hell is that ironic?

  Her smile got wider. I had to give it to her; she was fearless. When we reached the theatre she left.

  “Good luck sir.”

  “Thanks,” I grunted.

  Inside the pristine room I saw a bed, about seven doctors including Cole and one hulking great Sasha.

  “I thought I should oversee the procedure personally,” he told me as I sat down on the reinforced bed, which was more like a bench top.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “This is your last chance to change your mind Fletcher.”

  I looked at his feet. “Nah it’s all good.”

  I lay back on the operating table and stared into the light above me. I felt a tube being connected to the side of my neck. Steadily my awareness deteriorated into a blur of pulsating shapes and fuzzy lines. It was surprisingly nice. No other word can describe it but nice. Like the feeling you get when you're playing tag on the playground and you outwit the tagger. Nice. Not good, just nice. I’m not ‘it’ anymore.

  I had spent three years in this new body; now it was time for a new mind.

  Part 3- Undefined

  Chapter 19

  The hunk of metal on the operating table struggled to rise. Aside for an impassive Sasha and an anxious looking Cole, the theatre was empty.

  “How do you feel Fletcher?”

  Fletcher looked around the room before answering.

  “Fletcher?” he said.

  Cole shot Sasha a look full of worries.

  “Yes,” said Cole, “Your…”

  “I’m just playing with you,” said Fletcher.

  Cole laughed nervously. He had not told Sasha of the extra procedure performed in the integration.

  “How do you feel Fletcher?” repeated Sasha.

  Fletcher didn’t answer but got to his feet and started flexing all his limbs.

  “All systems go,” he said.

  No one spoke. Cole’s face was scrunched up in agitated thought.

  “Cheer up guys,” said Fletcher, “We’re immortal now.” He looked at Cole. “Well most of us. Now, I’m keen to get out into city, de-stress a bit, any takers?”

  Fletcher started out of the theatre.

  “Go with him Cole,” said Sasha, “Call it in if something goes wrong.”

  ***

  Cole spent half an hour trailing Fletcher before he caught up with him.

  “Cole!” Shouted Fletcher. He was seated in an Internet café, headphones on, between dozens of pasty faces. A crowd was gathering.

  “Headshot,” screamed Fletcher, “You see that? Quick-scoped that mother… Oh damn.”

  Fletcher’s avatar fell to the ground, mowed down by an uzi. He looked a tad somber before shaking his head.

  “And re-spawn,” he said cheerfully, “I wish life was like this.”

  People started clapping as he got a few quick kills.

  “Grab a computer Cole.” He turned to the rows of gamers. “This, my friends, is Cole the Cauliflower; wanna know how he got his nickname?”

  Twenty heads nodded in unison. No one dared not to.

  “Because,” said Fletcher, with a flourish, “Cole is as boring as hell.”

  The spectators laughed nervously and Cole flinched. He was blatantly out of place in his designer suit and Tweety-Bird tie. He hoped the press didn’t find Fletcher in this state.

  “Like a cauliflower!” said Fletcher. No one laughed.

  Cole stood, staring at Fletcher.

  “Nah, I’m just kidding,” Fletcher looked back to the screen, “You’re a good dude Cole, Colly, Cauliflo… Killstreak! Hell yes!”

  Cole took a seat in the corner and picked up a magazine. This was going to be a long night.

  ***

  “I ain’t drunk officer, I swear.”

  Fletcher had been refused entry to a nightclub and hence, was protesting by sitting on the roof of some random’s Lamborghini, the roof now resembled an expensive crater. Paparazzi crowded the street as the police tried to convince him to move.

  “Hell no, we won’t go.”

  He was chanting a number of slogans as a police constable rung in for back up. Cole stood in the crowd, dialing Sasha’s cellphone.

  A few minutes later their superior arrived. “Please sir,” a female police officer stood beside the car, “You're blocking up the street sir and this man wants his car back. Could you please move on?”

  “Only if you have a drink with me?” said Fletcher, “Well you drink… I’ll watch… Did you know I don’t drink? I am also celibate. Not by choice but because of the fact that I don’t have…”

  “I’m sorry sir, you need to move…”

  “Nobody loves me,” wailed Fletcher in mock agony. “Where does a metal-man-machine thing gotta go to get some loving?”

  “I’m sorry sir, but I’m on duty.”

  Fletcher inclined his head to his side.

  “So when do you get off work?”

  “Are you asking me on a date?”

  Cole lowered his phone as Fletcher sprang down from the car.

  “Miss Police Lady…” Fletcher was down on one knee. “Would you do me the honour of talking to me like a normal human being in a nearby coffee shop?”

  “Certainly mister…”

  “Fletcher, and your name is?”

  “Sarah and I get off in two hours.”

  “I shall be awaiting our rendezvous in anticipation,” said Fletcher.

  Sarah shook her head as she walked back to her colleagues. Fletcher meandered off down the street with Cole in pursuit.

  ***

  It was two in the morning when Sarah tentatively approached the coffee shop. She had seen him on the news a few times. He was taller and more imposing than she had expected. However, what surprised her most was the simple fact that he seemed so immature. He acted like a kid. He appeared so dignified and noble on TV.

  “You came!” Fletcher rose from his seat and threw his arms wide. “Bring it in gorgeous.”

  Sarah hugged him with a considerable amount of hesitation. He was uncomfortably cold.

  “You’re a bit of a charmer aren’t you Fletch. Can I call you Fletch?”

  “No,” said Fletcher cheerfully, “I got us Coffee.”

  They both sat. Sarah was wondering what she had gotten herself into. She noticed that a man with a Tweety-Bird tie was watching them. Outside the coffee shop were more men in suits. They appeared armed.

  “So how was your night?” she asked, trying to break the silence.

  “Oh I raged it up in Washingtown. I partied like a hardcore gangster.” He said it without any inflection to his voice. “And how was your night?”

  “It was a mess. Some people need to learn how to hold their liquor.”

  “With their hands,” said Fletcher solemnly.

  Sarah grimaced.

  “You have a painful sense of humor Fletcher.”

  “Yeah, so I’m told. It’s probably the one thing I have held on to.”

  “So how does it feel?” she asked, sipping her coffee.

  “It feels like sleep.”

  “It must feel good though. To be immortal and everything.”

  “It feels like an eternal existential nightmare.”

  “Kind of like my job then?”

  Fletcher’s massive body shook. Sarah took it as a silent laugh.

  “So what did you do before CANA?” asked Sarah.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t remember.”

  “You can’t remember anything? That’s horrible.”

  “I can’t remember specific events but I can remember the feeling
s associated with them.”

  “Good feelings?”

  “I don’t think I was a very nice person.”

  “Why? What do you feel?”

  “Something dark.”

  “Anything else?”

  “No.”

  Sarah sat back in her seat and exhaled. “You seem like a nice guy Fletcher. I’m sure…”

  “What must I have done to want to do this to myself?”

  “Let’s find out. I’m a cop, I can help.”

  “That’s the problem.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t want to find out. I know I forgot for a reason.”

  “Oh.”

  Fletcher leant forward and whispered into Sarah’s ear, “Can you kiss me? Just on the cheek?”

  Sarah frowned but then slowly pressed her lips against his cold cheek.

  “Thank you,” said Fletcher.

  He rose and left a bewildered Sarah behind.

  ***

  Agent Jones was irritated. He was always mildly irritated, reality in general irritated him, but today he was especially irritated. First he had been sent on some silly errand out to the country to meet a couple of old timers and now he was waiting in the CANA foyer for some synthetic. What annoyed Jones the most was how Secretary Cosworth was intentionally vague with him. It was like he did not trust Jones and this stung. Jones valued loyalty. In his line of work it was a necessity.

  “Agent Jones?”

  Jones cringed when he looked up. How had he snuck up on him? The thing was massive.

  “Er, yes, that’s me.”

  “My name is Fletcher. We have met before.”

  “Well, I’m sorry but I can’t say I recognize you.”

  “You broke my cane.”

  “Hell, you’re that limpy kid that kept trying to show of to…”

  “Yes, I’m that limpy kid,” Fletcher cut him off, “Why have you come?”

  “Er, the Secretary sent me; Kevin Cosworth. He wants to invite you, as his special guest, to the Health and Medical Summit.”

  “And why would I come?”

  “He says he has something he want’s to show you.”

  Fletcher thought it over. “I will think about it.”