Chapter_One 1
Sufkan Stevens - Visions of Gideon ♫
13th November 2040 (Two Years since the Battle of Detroit)
Identifying….
Serial number: 0219382200. Model: RX-600. Manufactured: 20th June 2040. Latest security update: installed.
All modules: Check. Booting….
…..
…..
…..
I open my eyes for the first time. The dim light of a clean room is shining from above revealing a meticulously clean space with a few utensils and nothing more. Two men are standing in front of me, their expressions, unreadable.
I detect nothing in their body language, although I had already tried to scan their BPM and skin textures. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Facial scan. Done. Doctor Charles Janson and Chief Assistant Professor James Xavier. Currently working at Cyberlife Detroit Dep. AI.
“Identify yourself.” I hear the man on the right speak to me.
“Model RX-600, serial number 0219382200. No name registered.”
He gets closer inspecting my yet naked body as he lowers his gaze, swiftly turns back to his notes. He frowns.
“It seems fine. No visual discordances.” Doctor Charles says, as he hands some notes to Xavier, whom until now kept staring at me.
“Run a diagnostic.” Xavier intervenes.
“Diagnostic ran. No errors were detected.” I respond right away. My program successfully returning no error codes in my variables.
“Detach.” Charles orders the mechanized support I am held in.
I feel my stiff and sore body move for the first time as all my ligaments and motor functions come into action. It feels refreshing. I can feel my fingers, and toes, my artificial muscles contract as I step unto the cold floor. My sensors respond in a matter of nanoseconds as I get struck by a cold shiver thundering through my whole body.
Charles and Xavier step back as they make their way toward a holographic console. A woman enters the room holding what seems to be my new clothes. A mixture of dark blue and black texture, a pair of jeans, a shirt, a jacket, a pair of boots. She sits the package on top of a drawer next to me without even looking at me.
Probably seeing a naked man, android, isn’t something she had been planning to see today. But, on a second thought, she works here. She must be. She must be used to seeing naked artificial people every day.
“RX-600, dress up.” Charles says as he comes closer pointing toward my clothing.
At first, I didn’t catch the little details they were hiding, but as I get closer grabbing the clothes, I notice three major letters written on top of the jacket. On the left side chest. DPD.
Detroit Police Department.
I stop for a second, my memory kicks in. I am an RX-600, we are designed and suited with various roles. Although few, we can do just fine in almost every situation. It seems my purpose has just been assigned to me. Am I going to work with the DPD?
“You’re going to be enrolled at the local DPD. For the time being, you’re going to work alone, as part of a testing phase, and if everything goes according to our expectations and nothing out of the ordinary happens, you’ll eventually be assigned a partner. A human partner.” Xavier takes a few steps toward me raising his hand toward my face. He scans me, and without saying a word he turns around and exists the room.
“You’re going to do great, I am sure.” Charles adds as he looks at me emotionless, following his colleague.
*
Snow had been falling since I had woken up two days ago. It was weird at first, thinking about the fact that I was two days old, yet I looked somewhere in my possible twenties. Or at least, a human being would.
I got up from the couch as the Chief of Police entered his office stopping in his tracks for a moment as he saw me sitting on his couch.
“Oh right.” He says, more to himself as he closes the glass door behind him, slowly making his way toward his desk holding a coffee mug in his right hand. “You must be the android sent by Cyberlife.”
I stand up right away, adopting a respectful stance.
“Yes sir.”
“I’ve been told by my superiors that you’ve been sent to work on your own for the time being. Is that correct?”
I nod.
“I will comply with their request, but do not expect anything exciting by the time you’re here. I am going to assign you to desk duty, at least for the first couple of days. Also, you’ll be working night shifts at the front desk. You start today, and your shifts starts at 9 P.M. You’ll be working until 6 A.M., no breaks. You don’t need one. Or so I’ve been told.”
“That’s correct sir.”
He takes a sip from his coffee finally sitting down. He turns his gaze toward me, raising his eyebrow in question.
“What do we call you?”
“I am an RX-600 model. I have not yet received registration.” I tell him truthfully, trying to understand his facial expression as he keeps staring at me.
“An RX-600. I am sure most of my guys would find calling you by your model name funny, but we need to give you a name.”
He turns his attention toward his computer’s screen scrolling through a bunch of files and probably past cases. He stumbles upon one as he reads through it lightly.
“Alright,” he says as he turns his gaze back to me. “Since you’re not registered under any name yet, I guess it remains up to me to give you one?”
“You have full authority to do that sir.” I respond.
“Alright, RX-600, register your name.” He says as he stands up from his desk putting both his hands-on top of it looking intently at me. “Evan.” He adds.
I register my name, responding:
“Hello, my name is Evan.”
He smiles. I haven’t seen a human being smile so far. Save this entry.
“Alright. You’re free to go (?)son. Desk #6 is yours. Make yourself comfortable, return for your shift later. You’re free to go.”
I nod and without a second thought I exit his office.
As I close the door behind me, everyone at the precinct shifts their gaze at me. Like a lamb between lions. Ready to be snatched and eaten alive.
With their eyes fixated intently on me, I decide to keep quiet and make my way toward the exit, but not before locating my desk. Right corner, next to officer Tellane. Registered.
I open the precinct’s door, stepping out in the cold. The snow had stopped for now, but today’s forecast predicts snowfall later and through the whole night until tomorrow noon. With a low of -4o C.
There are no appointments registered in my schedule. I am free. I just stand here, in front of the large building, not knowing what I should do next. I am not programmed to cope with this kind of situation. Weren’t they expecting something like this to happen? I am an android, I do not have free will. I need to receive tasks in order to operate properly.
As I stand here, looking around absentmindedly a young woman approaches me.
“Hi,” she says as she stops next to me, smiling.
She’s dressed properly for the winter, holding a bag in her hand.
“Hello.” I respond on the same manner.
“Can you help me out? My car broke down and I as it seems I have no cell service for some reason.” She says reaching out her hand, holding her phone. It has no cell service.
“I can call the emergency traffic services for you, ma’am.”
“No, no.” She laughs. “I do not want to make a mess out of probably something minor. Something that a man would be able to fix.”
Something that a man would be able to fix? What does she mean by that?
“Please, can you come take a look? Maybe it’s nothing bad. I have to get home, and I don’t want to leave the car.”
“Sure.” I answer, considering I have nothing to do until my shift at 9 P.M., which happens to be in around 4 hours and 31 minutes.
She leads me to her car. It looks fine at first glance. Nothing visually damaged. I run a scan. No components faulty.
Approaching the vehicle, I connect to its interface wirelessly, rechecking the system for any errors, but find none.
“Your car looks fine.”
“How do you know that?”
I turn to her, she is standing way too close to me.
I reach out pressing the ignition button. The car starts normally without a hiccup.
“Wow, how did you do that? It wouldn’t turn on I swear!” She says trying to fake a reaction, but her twitching upper lip gives her away. She’s lying.
“It’s fine. You’re good to go.” I tell her sincerely as I back away, but she grabs my hand.
“Truthfully. I…” She pauses. “I just wanted to get your attention. I saw you standing there in front of the precinct, and you… you’re so handsome.”
That’s alarming. I detect an anomaly. She’s implying I am handsome. She wants something. Is this woman trying to flirt with me?
I keep looking at her without saying a word. She continues to hold my hand.
“Would you like to accompany a lady home? I am single. I am sure we both could use some warmth from all this weary and chilly weather.” She says continuing to smile.
I am sure we both could use some warmth…. Analyzing…. She’s implying to have sex(?). I have enough similar situations registered in my database to know where this is going. She doesn’t know she’s talking to an android. Previous android models made back through 2037 and 2038, the WR-400 and HR-400 were androids specifically designed as sex partners. She might have tested one out in the past?
“I am sorry. I must get back to work.” I tell her carefully forcing her to let me go. But she doesn’t.
“Oh, come on.” She insists. “I cannot let you go without at least thanking you for giving me a hand here. “
“I didn’t. Your vehicle is fine, miss.”
She approaches me even further putting her hand on top of my chest.
“You’re hot, I am sure you’re even hotter naked.” She says.
I carefully consider the situation. But every preconstruction of this scenario returns a false positive. The answer remains, no.
“Thanks,” I answer her snatching my hand back. “But as I said I must get back to work, and you should be on your way.”
She finally gives up grimacing.
“That’s a shame. I would have given you a wonderful afternoon, stud.”
I don’t respond, as I turn around leaving her next to her car, making my way back toward the parking lot, intending to leave this place. At least for now.
Humans are weird. Period.
I return to the parking lot, but I suddenly stop. Something comes up and my sensors kick in. I turn my head to the right, and the first thing I see is, nothing.
I find myself staring at a café’s front just across the street. I bob my head to the side. I look like a complete fool. A malfunctioning android. Or so I imagine myself.
The café reads: Black Scoop Café. Nothing special. Although as I keep staring in that direction, my attention immediately switches to someone.
A guy, middle teen, probably young adult. Sitting inside, at the table. Enjoying his coffee. I scan the others around him, and my danger mode just jolts to life. My scans return an escaped convict.
Markus Lencher, 32 y.o. Imprisoned for theft and robbery. Man slaughter. Recently released: cause. Unknown.
I continue to watch him. The man enters the café, he looks around. Nothing suspicious, yet. I find myself taking steps further as I stop at the red light waiting to cross the street.
I am not aware of my surroundings for the time being, although my body comprehends and registers everything around. Movement, weather, people walking by. Not their names, or their personal info, but their existence. They walk by, I know that. I just cannot see them. I am focused on a possible target.
I do not feel the need to alert the police. At least not until the suspect is declared dangerous.
Lencher makes his way to the bartender ordering a coffee. Strong latte, no sugar. 1,22$. He checks in with his phone, but he turns, looking around. He is looking at a woman. She’s standing in the corner enjoying her sandwich and coffee. He takes the coffee he just ordered and makes his way toward her booth.
Green light, go.
Seven and half steps I make as I cross the street, stopping for a split second in front of the café. He continues to make his way toward her. He sits down as I continue watching him, carefully keeping my distance from the café’s front, not to look like a creep.
He engages in conversation.
Hyperacute senses: on. Fast forwarding . . .
“Hi.”
“Hello.”
“How are you?”
“Good, thank you.”
“Break from work?”
“No. Just having a little alone time.”
“Oh. Would you mind if I sit?”
“Uhm, I just told you I’m on my alone time.”
He gets up, nothing else to say. His face now stiff and with a pinch of anger. He throws the coffee in the garbage can and makes his way toward the bathrooms.
Suddenly he bumps into someone, he starts yelling.
“You fucking moron! Watch where you’re going!” His tone full of anger. I sense instability in his behavior.
As he steps aside for a brief second, I recognize the guy standing in front of him. The one I had seen just a few minutes ago.
My reflexes kick in.
I bump into the door with force, swiftly making my way inside, right at the right moment, as I see Lencher grabbing an empty glass.
Preconstructing. . .. he grabs the glass, he throws it? No. Too close to do that, no reason. He grabs the glass, he tries to hit the human in front of him? Possible. Recalculating, adding variables… 99,50% chances of a possible assault. Intervene, now.
I grab the glass as I snatch it out of his hand putting in on the counter.
He stops for a second, no reaction.
“What the?!” He says on the same tone turning around. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” I notice his clenched fist, as his right arm muscles contract in order to offer enough velocity for a hit. He is targeting me.
He does exactly as I predict, but misses, as I step back. His fist slams into a wooden column on his left.
He starts groaning in pain.
“Fucking prick! I am going to kill you!”
Calling 911….
“Assault going down at Black Scoof Café, 3rd Overchord Street, Downtown. Suspect: Markus Lencher, ex-convict. Intervention requested. Engaging suspect at target location.”
I dodge his next strike, carefully pushing the guy behind him away. I grab his other arm, twist it immediately as he bends down, his knees now in contact with the floor. He tries to resist, but as I grab his other hand, he remains completely powerless to do anything.
“You have the right to remain silent, until the police officers arrive. You’ve just been released from prison, should’ve stayed put.”
I make eye contact with the one I’ve just protected from a possible lunatic. We both hear sirens in the distance.
Two police cars are heading toward my marked location. Intervention successful. Returning to DPD parking lot.
I exit the café, but I find myself stopping just outside.
“I am sorry, excuse me.” I hear someone’s voice. I turn around. “Thanks…for, what you did back there.” It’s the same human I’ve just helped. His face expresses sincerity.
“You’re welcome.” I tell him as I smile faintly.
“Could I thank you with a drink or something, maybe?” He asks shily. I sense something. His expression changes. He shows pain, emotional pain, but masks it away right after.
4 hours left until my shift begins. Nothing in my agenda. Although, we are not allowed to connect with others outside our circle of expertise. So, I decide:
“No, although thank you. I must get back to work.”
I turn around and make my way across the street. As I continue walking, something snaps. I see his face again, his brief expression. But then, for just a nanosecond I find myself battling a fatal error, but I cannot see its code. It appears and disappears lightning fast. My system doesn’t register it.
I continue my way….
*
You know that moment when people tell their stories and they relive precious moments like they are right back into those moments in those very moments? Yeah, I bet you do. I don’t. The difference between you and me is that I don’t have an organic brain, I don’t have tissue.
I cannot think like you, and there for the first time I have no idea what I should have done in the situation that had just happened a moment ago.
I return to the station and make my way to the nearest android waiting area. I step unto the platform and I just stand there waiting for my system to enter in stand-by.
Seconds, minutes…., hours pass. I open my eyes. The cold wind of the evening is blowing. I turn my head around noticing the deserted street around me. No androids next to me in the waiting station, no humans walking by. It’s almost my shift’s time.
I step out of the platform taking a few steps further, when it happens again. For a split second my eyes go black, I cannot feel anything. But this time, I hear something.
Excuse me… I hear someone’s voice. I turn around. But I am greeted with silence as I see no one standing behind my shoulder.
Running a diagnostic………..
No errors……
I stand there for a couple of seconds analyzing my situation. Do I need to report back to Cyberlife? Is there something wrong with me? There must be. I am misbehaving. That definitely shouldn’t be happening.
8:54 P.M.
There are no cars on the street. Although as I make my way to cross, the red light comes on. I stop in my tracks noticing two police cars leaving the station’s parking lot. No acoustics, no lights. They must be heading home.
Lucky them.
**
Two hours pass as I sit here at this desk, analyzing reports. I come across two possible interesting cases. The first one involves a shoot-out somewhere outside the city. Probably some drug, cartel deals. And the second is about a school shooting.
17 years old. Enters the school premises. Shoots a few of his colleagues, no one dies. He’s arrested, kept under surveillance. Still at the station. Just below me. Might be worthy of a quick checkup. After all I need a case to work on. Why not start with this one?
But as soon as I stand up, intending to head downstairs, I am greeted by a pale man. He bumps into the station putting his hands on the counter. Barely breathing regularly.
“Sir? Can I help you? Are you alright?” I ask him right away, as I make my way toward him.
He is just standing in front of the counter looking forward blankly. He turns his head toward me.
“I think my son is missing.” He says on an unusual tone. I detect distress, fear, confusion in his voice.
“Your son is missing? Are you sure?”
“He hasn’t come home after school. He usually hangs out with his friends at the library or at the park, but he didn’t come home.” He says on the very same tone. I try to grasp the situation, but I cannot make anything out of his facial expressions.
I make my way back to the desk.
“Can you tell me his name?”
“Klaus. Klaus Jackson.”
“Alright, mister Jackson, I am sure your son is fine, I am going to get the hang of him in just a moment.” I reassure him as I start searching the city’s surveillance database based on his biometrics.
No results. He was last seen at 2:32 P.M this afternoon, leaving school. Dead spots wherever he went from there. This might be tricky.
“Sir.” I address him politely. “Have you tried calling him?”
“Yes.” He responds on a cold tone. “Don’t you think that was the first thing that I tried doing? What kind of question is that?”
“I meant no offense, I am just trying to assess the situation and take the required actions in order to help you.”
“What are you? Some kind of robot? Why are you talking like that?” His demenoar changes suddenly as his eyes widen. “You’re a fucking android, aren’t you?”
“Sir.” I say standing up, trying to calm him down.
“They removed your LED’s, so you could fit in. With us, humans.”
A hit comes up on the tracking software.
“Is there a problem?” We both hear an officer intervene as he makes his way in the reception.
“You put a fucking android in charge of dealing with emergencies?”
The officer looks at me, then back at him.
“What’s the emergency sir?”
“My fucking son’s missing! That’s the emergency. I tried calling 911, and they issued a missing person’s case. Haven’t heard from them since this afternoon. I thought by coming here, I’d get some actual humane help.”
Klaus comes up on the surveillance systems. He leaves his home. Gets on a bus and heads East. Twenty minutes later he disembarks the bus, heading for the train station. A dead camera at the next stop, unable to follow. Must head to that location.
“I’ll find your son.” I tell mister Jackson as I make my way toward the parking lot.
“Hey! Rookie! Where the hell do you think you’re going?!” I hear the officer shout behind me, but I chose to ignore him.
I make my way toward the first car I see empty.
Fuel: 76%.
Functional.
I touch the door’s glass. The car responds to my stimuli.
My destination: Hellen’s Brook station. East. 55, 12....
ns 172.70.130.143da2