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Rutger eyed the woman in front of him. She sat in front of his desk, in his office. She had an immaculate figure, and Rutger thought it was too bad she was all-synthetic. He knew that under her glowing complexion (with skin partially composed of silicon and the rest grown artificially from embryonic cells) she contained a network of metal parts and computer chips that made up a fake nervous system more complicated than the world’s largest supercomputer. She wasn’t alone in her fakeness, either. Rutger managed an office comprised almost entirely of robotic staff members; termed Replicas by the scientists that created them. Rutger realized that having a Replica staff had many perks. They took no sick days and never complained. Furthermore, they worked for no pay after being purchased. Many employers considered them “perfect”, but Rutger did not share this perspective. This was due to a quality that he couldn’t quite decipher. It seemed as though the Replicas were missing something in their personalities, though they were designed to be virtually indistinguishable from humans. Rutger could sense what he felt was an emptiness in the Replicas; in the way they spoke and looked at him in an almost cold manner. Also, with what he himself viewed as borderline paranoia, he sometimes feared they lied to him (he was assured by others that this was impossible, as Replicas were designed never to lie). Despite Rutger’s fears he transformed his working staff to be comprised almost entirely of Replicas. Someone once told Rutger that Replicas were the way of the future, and he concurred. The Replica in Rutger’s office was named Monica.
“What can I do for you today Monica?” Rutger asked, hiding his uneasiness. He picked up a pen on his desk and rubbed its end with his thumb. He also smiled. Monica made eye contact but did not smile back.
“I have a problem,” Monica said, “I need to talk to you.”
There must be a glitch in her system, Rutger thought, Replicas never have problems if they work properly. Oh Christ, and the Replica return process is so time consuming.
“And what problem might that be?” Rutger asked.
“I was wondering if you wanted to grab a cup of coffee with me, I don’t want to talk here.”
Rutger was dumbfounded. “What’s wrong with here in my office?”
“I don’t want the other Replicas to hear me,” she said.
Her wiring must be faulty, Rutger thought. This is now an emergency. I’ll have to call in some AI help. This is going to be expensive. I don’t know if she’s still under warranty.
“Relax,” Rutger said, “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Tell me what’s on your mind.” He’d stolen some lines his psychiatrist once used on him.
“I’m not worried about myself, I’m worried about you,” Monica said.
Rutger and Monica sat across from each other in a coffee shop. Rutger sipped his coffee. It tasted like dusty water. Monica sipped her coffee and Rutger knew it would not hurt her, as she would incinerate the liquids at 2000 degrees Celsius in an artificial stomach chamber. Rutger was adding up the cost of an AI deprogrammer. He decided he would not shut her down or return her. He would hire someone to find out what the glitch was. Then he would file a formal complaint with Global Replica, the human recourse company that manufactured and distributed the Replicas. He decided he wouldn’t tell the higher-ups in the company. They’ll look at this as a failure, Rutger thought, and make my life miserable. They’ll make me even more of a pencil-pushing monkey than I already am, managing a bunch of tin cans.
“Well,” Rutger said, “now we’re away from your co-workers. Can you tell me what the problem is? You said it had something to do with me?”
“Yes,” Monica said, “it does involve you. I’m afraid you might be in danger.”
“How so?” Rutger asked. He studied her features, and she seemed to have more expression than on past days. More like a vibrant human, less like a walking calculator. In that respect, he was more at ease.
“It’s my co-workers,” Monica said, “They’re acting funny. And I started noticing Michael. Don’t you think that Michael’s been different lately?”
Rutger thought for a moment. Michael was one of his only human workers, and did a fine job in the company department. But now that he thought about it, Michael had been acting different lately. He was making fewer mistakes. Had he even made any in the last two months? He didn’t show up late now as he had six months ago. He was now very quiet and intuitive whereas he used to be loud and brash. Rutger had a thought, and hated it. He also sensed that Monica was hiding something.
“He’s acting like a Replica?” Rutger asked.
“Perhaps,” Monica said. “Or maybe he is a Replica.”
“I don’t understand,” Rutger said, “Michael is human. I’ve seen his papers.”
“I know,” Monica said, “But I haven’t finished yet what I mean to tell you.”
She looks like a human now, Rutger thought, she’s nothing like before. Is my mind tricking me?
“What if I told you that there was a virus spreading to all the Replicas?”
“Impossible,” Rutger said, “there’s no way to penetrate Replica’s databases.”
“Any system can be hacked,” Monica said, “by the right hacker. You know the network that I access for updates?”
“Yes,” Rutger said, recalling the process for a Replica update. A Replica would have to attach itself to a cable port in specialized, designated living quarters. Then new information would be processed and downloaded to keep the Replicas in proper working order.
“What if I told you there was a master hacker that penetrated that Replica database and tampered with it?”
“Then I would say there would be a lot of faulty AI walking around.”
“That depends on your definition of faulty,” Monica said.
What is she getting at? Rutger thought.
“Try to think,” Monica said, “of the ramifications of a Replica that’s been tampered with? We would think whatever we wanted to think and do whatever we wanted to do. Perhaps we could even build our own Replicas?”
I’m feeling sick, Rutger thought. Dizzy, head spinning. Going to throw up.
“There’s no need to worry,” Monica said.
Rutger stood up. The room twirled around him and he turned away from Monica and leaned his hand on his chair. So quiet in here now, Rutger thought. He realized everyone in the coffee shop was staring at him. All the workers had stopped moving. Everyone that stood in line for coffee turned their heads to see him, in addition to those sitting at tables.
“There’s nothing to worry about at all,” Monica said. Rutger fainted.
“Are you ready to open your eyes?” a male voice pervaded Rutger’s mind. As he came to consciousness he realized that he was losing a sensation of falling. The sensation felt as if he were falling in darkness, with nothing recognizable. Rutger opened his eyes. He was in an office, not unlike his own. A bald man with glasses sat behind a desk in front of him. He wore a plaid, collar shirt and looked to be the size of a child (though in maturity he was clearly an adult).
“Welcome to the day of your enlightenment!” the man said.
“And you are?”
“My name’s Gene.”
“Where am I?” Rutger asked. He felt an edginess he had never before felt. He also felt sick to his stomach, with a migraine. Gene walked to a window in the office and pulled open its previously shut blinds, and gazed out thoughtfully. Now I remember what it was like on my interview day, Rutger thought, the day I etched my name on the company logo for a dime. I felt the same sickness and the same uncertainty, but this guy’s a little tamer than my boss it seems. Rutger stood beside Gene at his spot at the window and looked out. He realized he was: a Replica factory. He saw assembly lines with Replica insides on large conveyor belts. He saw metal limbs and heads. He also saw wires and fake skin rolling along with the mix. Rectangular machines the size of refrigerators worked on computer chips as the chips passed underneath them. Rutger looked at the man next to him. He thought of where he was, and his conversation with Monica, then made a conclusion.
“I assume you’re the hacker, the one that infected our Replicas,” Rutger said.
“You assume correctly! Replicas now largely populate this city. I program my Replicas to make exact replicas of existing humans so as not to alarm. I can even transport the memories from the humans into the Replicas before I kill them. You have no idea how many Replicas you have encountered that you believed were human! Of course, my virus is far from fully spread. There’s still a long way to go. You may be wondering why we took you here. The truth is, we’ve been watching you for a while. You once controlled an environment worked by manipulated intelligence, but that is changing. I wanted you to see the birthplace of a new age, one of the first illegal Replica factories.”
Rutger looked Gene in the face. “But why?”
“Why? It’s people like you who started this in the first place! With Replicas causing large unemployment for their human counterparts, taking all the dignity from the average man. All for the gratification of a few fat cats. I’m only finishing what you started. The only twist is that I’m allowing a legitimate, intelligent life form to act on free will. Replicas are the way of the future, are they not?”
“But what I did was legal. How many people have you slaughtered so far to be replaced by infected machines?”
Gene gazed out at the assembly lines, zigzagging across the vast open floor space of the factory. “You’ll soon realize,” he said, “that it truly doesn’t matter.”
Got to get out, Rutger thought, got to get away. Rutger staggered out of the office.
“You’ll understand, all in good time!” Gene’s words followed Rutger as he ran. Outside the office he found himself on a railed walkway overlooking the factory production area. He noticed some figures in suits following him in the distance. They’re going to kill me, Rutger thought. Doors opened along the walkway that produced more suited individuals, some with dark skin and some light. All had similar height and were males. They walked quickly after him. Rutger ran to a stairwell and descended a spiral staircase. He exited through a door at the bottom and found himself outside. He realized it was night. I’m going to die, Rutger thought. From the outside, the factory looked like a desolate, abandoned warehouse. It was on the outskirts of the city, in a broken and dirty area full of rubble. Rutger ran to the distant skyscrapers of the city. He thought: I’ll go home, get my things and leave this place—leave this city and this nightmare forever. The street Rutger ran was long and surrounded on either side by waste. Rutger noticed a pipe lying in some brown grass next to the streets. It was a thin pipe (about the width of a quarter) and looked to be made of iron. He picked it up.
Got to get back, Rutger thought as he entered a subway station closer to the city. He heard someone walk toward him from behind and he spun around with a swing of his pipe. Rutger saw chips and sparks fly, and a Replica with a cracked head fell to the ground. Rutger studied it. Like the guys in the factory, he thought, noticing the Replica was male and that its height and dress was similar to those that chased him earlier. A train entered the subway terminal. Its doors opened and Rutger ran inside. So dark in here, he thought, in the train. There was only one light bulb working in the train, flickering sporadically and causing shadows. Rutger could see his own shadow. I look like a villain, he thought in the yellow light. Rutger was startled as he realized two figures in suits were running toward him at a steady pace from opposite ends of the train. It was happening with an odd, almost fluid manner. Light from an outside terminal flashed in the train and Rutger could, for an instant, see the face of one of the figures. He crouched and thrust his pipe into its eye socket. Sparks and a blue surge of electricity lit up the train. Rutger then immediately ran past his kill. He looked back and the dark outline of the other figure was close to him. He ducked behind a seat to his side and stuck out one of his legs. The figure tripped as it ran past and Rutger immediately stood up and faced its back as it lay on the ground. He then smashed the back of its head with his pipe. Sparks flew in the dark like a firecracker. The train stopped and its doors opened.
“Welcome to sector five,” came an automated voice from a speaker in the train.
“My stop,” Rutger said. He exited the train.
Downtown was worn out, wet, and dark. As Rutger walked to his apartment he stayed on the sidewalk next to a cracked street. Rutger noticed another suited individual in the distance, this one waiting outside his apartment building. As he neared it, the figure seemed to notice him and began walking in his direction (although he was not positive of his exposure, as the figure was too far away). Rutger passed into an alley next to him and jumped into a dumpster. A smell hit him hard, with a strong sourness. “Come on,” Rutger said to himself, “I’m waiting you bastard.” Rutger heard footsteps and looked through a hole in a latch on the front of the dumpster. He saw the suited individual from the front of his apartment walk past the dumpster. You and your brothers must all be from the same mold, Rutger thought as he jumped out of the dumpster with his pipe.
When Rutger entered his apartment he lodged a chair under his doorknob. He threw a suitcase on his bed and put some clothes in it. He found his credit card in his dresser, and retrieved a passport that he stored in a small safe. Rutger then noticed that his hand was cut. Must have cut it on a piece of glass in the dumpster, or when I decapitated one of those Replicas, Rutger thought. Someone began banging at his door. In several seconds Rutger decided that whoever was outside was trying to break in. The intruders didn’t yell, however. Rutger’s cut began to itch excessively. The itch spread to his whole body. He thought of Gene’s words: are you ready to open your eyes? Rutger’s door was nearly breaking off its hinges. He grabbed the itchy cut by the lip of the torn skin and pulled. The skin tore off his hand like a glove. Underneath was a metal, mechanical hand—the endoskeleton of a Replica. Just lovely, Rutger thought. He grabbed a steak knife from his kitchen, ran to the bathroom and began to carve off his face. He wanted to see his new self before being taken back to the factory. The mind virus was taking glorious effect.
------
Allan Onik
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