Machine Man - Max Barry [103]
She glanced again to the side. “Several times it was ordered that you be decommissioned. There was pressure on the hospital, from within and without. Protesters camped outside. Once they broke in, and …” She gestured. “You couldn’t remain. A compromise was brokered. You came here. At that point, you essentially became a research project. The goal was not to keep you alive, exactly. It was to …” She hesitated. “It’s probably easiest if I show you.”
She turned my head with one hand, showing no exertion. The room shifted. I saw a gray box. It looked like a piece of medical equipment. It had buttons, LEDs, about a hundred black wires. One snaked toward me, another to a monitor. I thought, What is that? Letters spilled across the screen: WHAT IS THAT
In the screen’s reflection, I saw daffodils. Beside them, sitting on the white benchtop, was a small black cylinder on a block of white plastic. The cylinder had a lens at the front and a wire coming out the back. I realized I was looking at myself.
“Whoa,” someone said. “He’s spiking.”
“Load rising.”
“We’ve got a lot of runaway processes. Core is locking.”
“Shut him down. Shut him down!”
Darkness again.
A STRANGE kind of light. Diffuse. I couldn’t focus. I felt disorientated. I had forgotten where I was.
“Holding … that’s good. Keep that there.”
“A little interplay on the message bus. Nothing serious.”
“Okay … let him have a look. But slow.”
The light lifted. Or rather, a thing draped over me was lifted. I saw a man in a striped shirt and bow tie. The thing was a lab coat. As it rose, its sleeve snagged and pulled me around in a half-circle until I was facing the steel gray box. The monitor. Words streamed across the screen: NO BOX BOX I AM IN A BOX NN N L N OLALOLALOLALOLALOLALOLA–
“Shit!” The lab coat flopped over me again. “Take him down!”
“You see that output?”
I felt myself shrinking, ceasing to exist in pieces.
“Maybe she’s right. Maybe …” Before I could hear the rest of this, I was gone.
“CHARLIE?”
I opened my eyes. No. I didn’t. I had no eyes. But I saw Lola. Her chin rested on the heel of her hand, her elbow on the benchtop. Her hair looked as if she had pulled it into a neat ponytail, then walked somewhere windy. “Hey.” She smiled. “There you are.”
Lola, I said. Can you hear me? I can’t talk.
“You’re talking, Charlie. Here …” She swiveled my camera until I could see the monitor: LOLA CAN YOU HEAR ME I CANNOT TALK. “See? You’re talking.”
AM I IN THERE IS MY BRAIN IN THERE
“No. Well … yes. But not your brain. You’re solid state now.”
HOW AM I SOLID STATE
“I can’t believe this.” She wiped her eyes. “It’s been so long.”
HOW LONG LOLA
“It’s been six years, Charlie.”
SIX YEARS HOW IS IT SIX YEARS
“It feels like six minutes.” She laughed. “Oh, God, Charlie, it’s really you.”
I AM A ROBOT, wrote the screen. I AM A BOX A DEAD BOX.
“No, Charlie. You’re not a box. The box is your body. That’s all.”
DO NOT WANT TO BE A BOX LOLA
She stroked my camera. I couldn’t feel it. But it felt comforting. “They said you were gone. But I wouldn’t let them turn you off. I had to yell at a lot of people over the last six years, because they kept wanting to give up.” She straightened and unbuttoned her shirt. There was a white scar across her chest, thin and faded. “Look. I got your heart.”
LOLA I MISS YOU
She covered her mouth and looked away. When she looked back, her eyes gleamed. “Well, you don’t have to miss me anymore, Charlie. Because let me tell you about the box. The box is special. The box has ports.”
PORTS
“Yes. You can plug things in.”
THINGS WHAT THINGS
“That’s a good question. The answer is up to you. Because it’s just an interface, Charlie. It can be configured whichever way we want. But … while I was waiting, I kind of went ahead and … it