Cynthia Read online

  “Terminate archive, please.” I sat in my sensory chair. It was made of brown, cracked leather and smelled musty. “Pop, what am I going to do?”

  He appeared next to me. In my chair, I could feel him somehow. It was as if he cradled me in his arms. “Your O.H.P. will be eliminated three days after your eighteenth birthday. It’s standard protocol. They’ve used this procedure on the past one hundred and twelve S.H.A.Y. subjects.” Was that the touch of his lips upon my forehead? Tears poured down my cheeks. “Shay, my circuits are faltering.”

  O.H.P. stood for Optional Human Parent. Nearly every S.H.A.Y. received one—a human mother or father to help them grow to love, reason, and emote.

  I’m not a normal teenage girl, obviously. I came from a human embryo, but instead of being inseminated inside a hominid womb, a human male had impregnated an Android Maternal Intelligence Ersatz or A.M.I.E. Thus, human life and robotic intelligence were molded together to create a new humanoid species. My project is still in the testing phases of creation. To my knowledge, no S.H.A.Y. had ever completed phase three. I didn’t even know what phase three was. Most S.H.A.Y.’s died by age twenty.

  My life expectancy wasn’t high priority at the moment. Darla. My O.H.P. stood before me on the other side of the mirrored entrance. I could see out, but visitors couldn’t see in. It was an old school trick law enforcement used back in the day. S.H.A.Y. 51 loved old school technology. Darla pressed her fingers to the keypad.

  “Shay, Dr. Cole says you haven’t submitted your evening log. You’re late again and she’s threatening to pay you a visit.” Darla said.

  I opened my door and she stepped inside. Her black eyes moistened. “Mom, I don’t want to turn eighteen,” I sobbed, falling into her arms. She was soft and round. “Horrible things happen to the S.H.A.Y. after they turn eighteen. Did you know that when you agreed to be my human mother?”

  “Shay, calm down, please.” Darla brushed my bangs away. “You’re going to be okay.”

  “I need to know, are you my biological mother?”

  She shook her head. “No, but I was a mother once.” She glanced away. “My child was taken from me. You remember, as babies, the two of you played together?”

  I nodded. Being a S.H.A.Y. meant greater mental capacity and an excellent memory. I’d created several technological gadgets used by the marine biologists to save endangered mammals in our local area. I gladly praised both my pseudo-parents for this capability and desire to help others, especially since Dr. Cole chose to have me work on devices that served no purpose in saving life. I’d created a Freeze Portal that law enforcement used regularly for transporting criminals from facility to facility. Short distance travel would begin in a few years—once a few more bugs were worked out, of course.

  My Freeze Portal started when I was about nine. I saw an old movie where people would put a piece of paper in a square electronic machine, press a bunch of numbers, and then hit a green button. The paper was eaten by the machine—and then would appear magically in another place. This, Pop said, was a fax machine. Sure, the Freeze Portal started out as a transportation device, but in reality things and people cannot be broken up into tiny pieces and then transmitted back into their same exact form. Faxes were merely copies of originals.

  At first, I was angered that I couldn’t travel this way. Pop explained other forms of transportation, including radiation, which shrank its objects—even flesh. He even pointed out that once dragonflies were five feet in expanse when the earth contained over thirty percent oxygen. That was before high amounts of radiation hit the earth, shrinking much of the species. There was this ancient book that Pop had me read where it spoke of a body of water that once surrounded the Earth. When the floodgates fell, radiation and other elements arrived. The book even mentioned human life expectancy went from hundreds of years to a mere eighty.

  Using radiation, I was able to shrink living beings into a small capsule. Only human convicts were ever used for experimental purposes. Then, I created an extraction device, with the help of my wonderful Pop, to then remove the large amounts of radiation used to shrink the traveler.

  What I didn’t know as a nine-year-old—yes, even being such a ‘genius’—was that radiation kills. Pop didn’t know this either. Sure, he’s a highly-sophisticated program, but not human. What are humans full of? Yeah, flesh. Flesh isn’t meant to be zapped and shrunk to the size of a pencil. What was even the point of my creation? Someone still had to take you from point A to point B. The capsule could not move on its own. It was a flop.

  I guess that’s why Dr. Cole sold the invention to the government to transport criminals. What else could a death trap be useful for? I cringed at the thought.

  I got to keep one prototype from each phase of development during the project’s life. Some of my inventions took weeks while others, years and they were usually built at my pace unless Dr. Cole saw a use for them. They then became a priority and I was required to stay in the lab refining and tweaking until she was satisfied. My first Freeze Portal prototype was as large as a can of aerosol. My latest capsule was formed to look like a pen. It was almost to Dr. Cole’s satisfaction.

  “What are you doing, Shay?” Darla grabbed my wrist. “I know that look.”

  Pop appeared, shaking his head. “Do not devise, plotting is not one of your strengths.”

  I glanced around my room, noticing several useful prototypes. “Mom, Dad,” I said, “I wish to see Amie.”

  “A.M.I.E.s do not see their S.H.A.Y.s.” Pop’s voice became garbled as my hand sliced through his image. “No S.H.A.Y. has ever spoken to her A.M.I.E.”

  “I have two days remaining to roam this facility with absolute freedom. That’s my wish—to see my A.M.I.E.” I stood, collecting various gadgets. “Where’s my knapsack, Pop?”

  A bag floated towards me. I filled it, barely able to zip the sides. My heart beat with adrenaline. Today was the day—I’d prepared for this very moment for months.

  “Stop whatever plan you have,” Darla said. “It might mess up my chances, honey. When you turn eighteen I get to see my child again. They promised me that I get to see my baby again three days after your birthday.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not letting your contract end.” I tossed the bag over my shoulder, turned towards my console, and bit my lip. “Pop, I love you.”

  “Unknown response.” He disappeared.

  “I said I love you.” One tear escaped and ran down my cheek. I waited for the electronic sound of my father. I heard nothing.

  …Nothing at all.

  “Let’s go, Mom, it’s time to go visit my artificial suitcase.” I motioned for the doors to open. They obeyed, sending a blast of cool air in our faces.

  Pop’s lights followed me into the glass elevator. “You haven’t submitted your log, my Shay! Dr. Cole shall visit you shortly.”

  “Go into hibernation mode.”

  My fingers trembled as I pressed level one on the elevator’s keypad. Sharks and schools of fish swam past as we climbed higher and higher. Scenic water life was soon replaced with plastered walls and hundreds of lights in the ceilings and walls around us. Those lights belonged to programs very similar to my Pop. Some scientists had Personal Artificial Trainers or P.A.T.s as I called them. P.A.T.s helped with equations using precision that humans normally attempted in an erroneous fashion—mostly due to poor human perception and shaky hands. They could draw straight lines, analyze data, measure, build, and do so much more. They were like a third hand to many scientists.

  Artificial Life was a department all to itself. Most departments spent their time saving aquatic life whereas; my A.M.I.E. was inside what I called the “dark tower for doomed life”. The only life created there ended up dead before the age of twenty... The A.I. wing was massive, an edifice to the outside world, towering above all other facilities. Darla and I stood before security. They flashed us, an eye scanner lit green and we passed without issue.

  We were inside a steel elevator, climbing quickly
towards the top floor where all A.M.I.E.s were kept.

  Darla grabbed my hand. “This is a very bad idea.”

  I said nothing.

  An electronic voice spoke. Level 23 reached. The doors opened and we stepped out into a metallic lobby. The walls shined like tin and the linoleum floors were over waxed and glistened.

  The metallic hallway opened in four directions. Three halls housed A.M.I.E.s. The fourth was lined with offices belonging to various scientists and even a conference room. It was the only room with a view.

  “Mom.” I motioned for Darla to follow me into the conference room. There was a long table and several chairs. Her eyes focused on the opened window, which allowed a cool breeze to enter the office. “Stay in here, okay?”

  It was as if she couldn’t hear me. “Look, Shay, I can see what’s left of the Seven Mile Bridge! Before the war, do you remember your history lessons?”

  “That’s the remainder of the second Seven Mile Bridge that connected the various key islands together. That piece of rubble right there,” I pointed at a large mound of cement sitting alone in the ocean, “that rubble is from the original Seven Mile Bridge.”

  “How fascinating!” Darla focused on jumping dolphins and I took that as my cue to exit quietly.

  Pop spent months researching the archives and told me that my A.M.I.E. was in room 212. He remembered being there on the day of my birth. My fingers trembled and my eyes twitched. What would my A.M.I.E. say? Would she even acknowledge me? I let out a laugh. Who cared, seriously? She was a robotic baby maker. I didn’t even know what she looked like—probably a big square contraption that resembled a fax machine!

  I took slow steps down the hall, passing room 208, 210, and finally standing before 212. I inhaled, tapping on the door. “Amie, it’s Shay. I want to speak to you. Can I please come in?”

  Silence filled my ears.

  “Amie, please, I have two days left and want to see who created me.”

  I leaned my forehead against the Formica wood.

  “Amie,” I said again. “Please respond.”

  Amie did not acknowledge me. I twisted the handle. It was locked and wouldn’t budge. I kicked the door, indenting it.

  “Amie, I need to see you. Do you understand needs? Are you designed with emotions? Do you comprehend anything at all?”

  I released the handle and stopped kicking holes into the door. Instead, I dropped to my knees. “Maybe you’re not able to speak. Maybe you’re just a baby making machine with zero intellect.”

  “Enter, S.H.A.Y. 318.”

  I struggled to stand, hearing locks release, one by one—fourteen locks in total.

  “Enter, S.H.A.Y. 318.”

  This was the moment I’d waited for! Finally, I was going to meet the mother whose womb I grew in, the mother whose bionic intelligence flowed through my human veins transforming me into a new humanoid species still unknown besides at the former Pigeon Key Research Center.

  I was about to meet my artificial mother.

  Most orphans probably wished to meet their biological human parents—how different I was; dying to meet my artificial host.

  “Hello, my Shay,” Amie said.

  The room was dark and I brushed my fingers along the walls, searching for a light switch. “Hello, Amie.” I smiled, allowing my eyes to simply adjust to the darkness. “Why is it so dark in here?”

  Illuminations flickered, blinding me. I covered my face with my arm, peeking about. I was surrounded by white walls flooded with translucent sparks of multiple colors. Strobe lights confused my perception and I knelt, facing the floor.

  It was only then that I saw her.

  Electric currents passed me on the largest motherboard I’d ever seen. The currents formed a rectangular smile. “Hello, my Shay.”

  “You’re my A.M.I.E.”

  “Yes, I’m your A.M.I.E. I’m your mother.”

  The strobe and florescent lights faded and I was able to stand and observe my surroundings.

  “I am your mother. I like creating life.” Currents circulated the room, and exploded into hearts and square smiles.

  “I’ll die soon.” I whispered the words.

  “What is death?”

  “Death is like termination.”

  Amie’s lights did not flicker.

  “Abortion, miscarriage,” she said.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “I am glad to see you in adult hominid form.”

  “I’m part you, ya know.” Tears escaped. I was one of the few S.H.A.Y. to ever get the chance to meet their A.M.I.E.

  “I will not allow your termination.” Amie’s lights flashed. A contraption rose from the ground. Inside, a memory chip sat. “This is every memory recorded and sent to me regarding your life. You must keep it, insert it in your abdomen, and learn from it.”

  “What happens to an A.M.I.E. once their S.H.A.Y. is terminated?”

  Amie’s walls opened. Inside the walls of my Amie, a fully formed fetus grew. She was surrounded by bags of liquid and images flashed about, allowing her to take in sights immediately.

  “I’m going to be replaced in like, nine months?”

  “Six months.”

  “Have you ever seen another of your S.H.A.Y.’s?”

  “No.”

  “Thanks for letting me in.”

  “You must learn from this chip so that you will not face termination.”

  I took the chip.

  Red lights flashed and alarms echoed in my ears. “What’s happening, Amie?”

  “Dr. Cole will detain you early.”

  “Did you just trick me?”

  “No,” she said. “I gave you your freedom; escape with your O.H.P. now. You have forty-five seconds.”

  “Goodbye, Amie,” I whispered.

  “Goodbye, my beautiful Shay.”

  I raced down the hall and into the conference room. Darla’s eyes widened. I slammed the door.

  “What have you done?” she gasped. “I’ll never see my child now!”

  “Hush up, Darla.”

  “Darla? You’ve never called me that! Not even in your rebellious phase! What’s going on?” I dropped my knapsack on the table and rummaged through it. “Are you listening to me, child?” She waved her hand in my face. “What’s going on?”

  “You’re never going to see your child.” I frowned, holding my Freeze Portal. “In five days, your contract, which is really your life, shall be terminated. I want to get you out of here so that doesn’t happen to you. Do you trust me?”

  Darla’s knees shook. Her eyes darted towards the door at the sound of many feet, marching towards us. “How long have you known?”

  “For a few months,” I answered. I couldn’t let anyone know I’d been planning her escape. If Dr. Cole had found out, then everything would have been ruined. She’d have intervened immediately.

  Darla slapped me. “You’re an ungrateful brat!”

  Tears poured down her cheeks.

  “Mom.” My lips trembled. “Let me help you.”

  Fists pounded on the door.

  “Open up, right now, S.H.A.Y. 318!” Dr. Cole shouted. “I’ll have to detain you if you persist with this rebellious attitude!”

  I didn’t wait for Darla to agree or disagree. I pressed my Freeze Portal into her arm, sucking her inside, and then shoved her in my pocket. Darla had two days plus an extended five hours with the latest prototype. That was more than enough time to get her over the border to safety.

  I grabbed my latest invention, a portable glider. It looked like an umbrella but when I pressed the release button, it opened wide. It came with a motor that traveled about eighty miles per hour in the right wind conditions. I hadn’t had the opportunity to test its functionality just yet, but I was pretty sure it worked.

  Dr. Cole and several armed men cut into the door. Wood chips flew, landing on the floor. She and her men stood across from me, entering the room, surrounding the table.

  Dr. Cole placed her hands on her
hips, narrowing her eyes at me. She wore a long white trench coat and her hair was tightly wound in a bun. “Shay, darling; come down from that window.”

  I jumped up and balanced on the window’s ledge, my glider on my back like a parachute, ready to be opened, Dr. Cole ready to pounce. “I’m not entering phase two; I refuse.”

  Dr. Cole pointed in my direction. “Detain her, she’s known for her foolish heresies.”

  Several guns pointed in my direction. I dropped, free-falling quickly. The velocity forced me to struggle with the straps. Finally, I pressed the release button, it’s wings spread across my back. The suddenness jerked me upwards and I gagged.

  The armed men leaned out the window, aiming their dart guns my way. I had to figure out how to fly. I’d designed the thing; it should be simple. I grabbed the sides, leaning to the left. That forced me downwards. I leaned forward—dropping instantly. I leaned back and rose towards the open window, creating better aim for the darts men.

  “What the heck!” I struggled, turning left and right, up and down and finally banging myself against the side of the building. The glider bent downwards, forcing my body to do the same. I ran along the wall away from the men.

  “Why can’t I get this stupid thing to fly?” Darts cut through my glider. I pressed “instant repair” on the side handle. A gel covered the holes, thickening quickly. I kicked off, soaring forwards towards the now ‘Lone Keys’.

  “Tranquilize her!”

  “What if she wrecks?” someone argued with Dr. Cole.

  The ‘Lone Keys’ were my favorites as a young one. I’d play for weeks on end without ever bothering to check in. There was nothing anyone could do about it. The islands were in dead zones for most Satellite devices.

  Last week, I installed an autopilot into my glider—Freddie. He wasn’t completely ready yet. His voice wasn’t working.