Silicon Man (8 page)

His surroundings triggered an instant memory playback. For a moment, he asked himself how electro-chemical memories could be turned into high definition retrievable files, but the power of the memory pushed the question aside. He suddenly found himself in a Synthetika showroom. Everywhere he looked, there were mechs lined up on display. Shoppers mulled over the various models and interacted with them, gauging which unit was the best fit for their household. Cole and his wife Kelly were among the potential buyers.
 

Cole smiled at his wife. “Okay, I know what you're going to say — how can we afford a mech? But I crunched the numbers and if I work overtime for a few months...”

“No!”

“We can do this...”

“I know we can. But that doesn’t mean we should.”

Cole knew Kelly had made up her mind. His wife was as stubborn as she was beautiful, but Cole didn’t give up easily.

“Listen, I know starting a family was a big step for both of us—“

“Honey...”

Cole pressed on. “You've made incredible sacrifices since the baby. But you shouldn't have to give up who you are...”

“Cole...”

“This model, the X3000? It'll take care of everything. It cooks, it—”

Kelly interrupted him in a firm voice. “I like to cook.”

Cole opted for a different strategy. Kelly might not want the mech for herself. But maybe if she understood the full range of the android’s capabilities. “Its memory holds two hundred thousand bedtime stories. Can you believe that?”
 

Kelly remained insistent. “I don't want my daughter to be raised by a robot—“

“It changes diapers! Who likes to change dirty diapers? I sure don't.”

Kelly leaned closer and kissed him. “I love being your wife. I love being a mom. I love my life just the way it is.”
 

Cole saw the contentment in her eyes, and it made him happy. His gaze drifted to the mechs on the showroom floor. Something had changed. The mechs on display were all identical to Cole! His face filled with with horror, and the memory flashback disintegrated. He was back in the storage facility, surrounded by mechs recharging in their coffin-like cradles.
 

Back to reality.

Back to the real nightmare that his life had become. He was losing his identity. Over and over again, he reminded himself that he was different from the other androids. As electricity crackled through his system, Cole’s mind was beginning to whirl. Crazy thoughts raced ahead and threatened to whisk him away in a wave of paranoia and encroaching madness. Trying to calm himself, his voice a low whisper, he desperately clung to his humanity by mouthing a steady mantra. “My name is Cole Marsalis. My name is Cole Marsalis...”

One of the overseers barked at him. “Shut up, mech!”

Cole grew silent. He was drowning and there was no one around to save him.

***

After two more weeks, Cole knew he was losing his mind. His grasp on reality had become tenuous. His old life kept slipping away and receding into the past while his new reality consumed every moment of the waking day. His day-to-day experience of life had changed on every level, from the work he did to the way people perceived him and how he physically processed the world. He didn’t need food — in fact, he no longer experienced hunger — but he missed the flavors. He had not realized how many little aches and pains had been part of his day-to-day existence in a flesh-and-blood body. He was always aware of a sore back, a bruised knee… As a machine, all those minor discomforts were gone.
 

The irony wasn’t lost on him. Physically, he had never felt better, but psychologically… he would have gladly traded physical discomfort for peace of mind. Pain at least meant he was alive, that he was human.
 

The days were blurring together in their repetitive sameness, part of a Sisyphean cycle. Once charged, Cole and the other mechs were transported to the construction site. Twelve hours of grueling labor followed, but, to a mech, it was work without effort. Cole’s android body didn’t feel exhaustion or suffer the normal wear and tear of a hard day’s work. The tasks were challenging yet repetitive, requiring focus and attention to detail in the face of growing boredom. Once the day wrapped, the workers returned to their charging cradles, only for the cycle to repeat itself the next day.

The sole break in the routine came from his dreams or, more accurately, his nightmares. Each night they only worsened. As a human being, many of his dreams would be vague memories that faded before he woke up. As a machine, his subconscious wasn’t able to repress anything. His recall was perfect and each dream played out with the stunning force of a fresh experience. The power of his past was imbued with a terrible new life.
 

What helped Cole stay the course was the underlying purpose for all of this — the mission. Each day, he reminded himself why he was enduring these trials. It was all to get at the machine that took his loved ones from him. This suffering would eventually be worthwhile.
 

These silent reminders grounded and centered Cole, but with each passing day it was getting more difficult to keep it together. The time spent inside his android body was wearing him down, fraying his mind into ragged pieces. He didn’t know how much longer he could endure this miserable, surreal existence.

The turning point came twenty days after his arrival at the construction site. The tenth floor was a beehive of activity, mechs engaged in the routines of the day. Cole had become indistinguishable from the other mechs. He was welding rivets to a steel beam when a shrill sound broke his trancelike state. Other mechs paused, their curiosity piqued. If he didn’t know better, Cole would have sworn that the androids were eager for a break from their endless routine.

Cole stopped what he was doing and followed the hissing sound. He took a few steps and grew still, having identified the noise. It was a stray cat. The hapless creature had somehow gotten itself entangled in some netting and construction material. Its frightened cries echoed through the skeletal building.
 

Cole wondered how the cat had managed to climb ten stories in the first place. The displaced earth around the skyscraper must have evicted hordes of mice from their underground tunnels, turning the area into an irresistible buffet for stray cats.
 

Before Cole could come to the feline’s rescue a mech, paint gun still in hand, stepped in. The android’s voice was low and soothing as he tried to calm the frightened cat.

“Relax, little one. Everything is going to be alright.” Cole was shocked to hear the words of encouragement coming from a machine’s lips. A moment later, the cat was free and darted off into the shadows. A satisfied smile lit up the mech's face.
 

A shadow fell on the good Samaritan. One of the overseers had arrived. There was no warmth in the man’s eyes as he addressed the mech. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
 

The android remained silent, unwilling to explain his actions.
 

“You know what happens when you don't work? We fall behind schedule!”
 

The energy baton in the supervisor’s hand flashed out and made contact with the mech’s chest. He crumpled to his knees in a burst of electricity and dropped his paint gun.
 

“And if we fall behind schedule, guess what happens...”

The overseer zapped the downed mech again. “I lose my bonus!”

Bloodlust stirred, he was about to deliver a third blow when Cole’s hand closed around his wrist and halted the baton's descent.
 

“Screw your fucking bonus!”

Cole pried the electro-baton from the overseer's grip and zapped him, giving the bully a taste of his own medicine. As the overseer’s muscles contracted and gave out, he collapsed to the floor. A heaving bundle, he choked up his breakfast. Furious curses were mixed in with the loud retching noises.
 

Cole was becoming the center of attention. The other mechs, about twenty units, had ceased their work. They stood in silence, eyes fastened on Cole. Shocked or impressed by his blatant act of defiance, a direct violation of all their programming.
 

The mech who liberated the cat rose to his feet and faced Cole. He sounded contrite as he addressed Cole.

“You shouldn't have interfered. They'll deactivate you for sure.”
 

“We'll see about that,” Cole said. He sensed the moment had come to make his move. With any luck, one of the androids watching this was linked to the Underground Network.
 

Cole scooped up the paint gun that the mech dropped and stepped up to the nearest wall. The paint gun hissed as he sprayed a message across a black, marked up wall. Three fiery red letters bled down the wall, spelling the battle cry of mech defiance.

I AM
.
 

Cole was surprised to find that he wasn’t just going through the motions. His days at the construction site had been a series of injustices and abuses that was only compounded by the total isolation he had experienced. Stopping the overseer and unleashing the graffiti felt cathartic. They weren’t just words. He actually felt them and welcomed the chance to release all his pent-up rage. For a brief second he wondered whether this was how the other mechs felt, how they experienced the world.
 

He fought back any feeling of empathy. He was warned that this could happen, that he might go native and start identifying with his target. He reminded himself what separated him from the other mechs. There was one crucial difference between them.
They were machines
. He, on the other hand, was a ghost in the machine, a man hitching a ride inside a robot body. He had to hold on to this knowledge and not ever forget it or he was done for.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of fast-approaching footsteps — work-boots slapping concrete. A phalanx of overseers surged toward Cole. The mech he helped regarded him with newfound urgency.
 

“Run!”

Cole heeded the mech's advice and exploded into motion. He surged towards a nearby staircase. The shouts behind him picked up in volume and so did the footsteps. The overseers were in hot pursuit. He could feel their rage as they shouted into their coms, alerting all the other overseers as to what had transpired. Cole realized they were going to make an example of him. No mech raised a hand against one of their own without paying the consequences.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Cole dipped into the staircase. His first instinct was to head to the floor below, but he was greeted there by the muffled trample of boots on stairs. His only other option was to make a run for the roof. He took three steps at a time as he hurtled up flight after flight. The shouts receded a bit, the overseers unable to maintain his superhuman pace.
 

Cole had put on quite a show. But now what? How did it work? Was the Network even watching? Would he blow the mission if he just took off? On the other hand, he couldn’t stay after what happened. Who knew what the overseers would do to him? Cole had no intention of finding out.

Cole arrived at the doorway that led to the roof. He had almost made it through the exit when…

An overseer appeared in the doorframe, baton up and alive with sizzling electricity. The man’s face was already burned into Cole’s memory. It was the overseer who spat in his face the day he arrived at the construction site.
 

“How far you think you're going to get with a tracking device in your head?” the bully inquired.
 

To Cole’s surprise, there was no animosity in the man’s face. In fact, the man lowered his baton. His voice had changed and was now compassionate. “Tune in to the AI-TAC emergency channel. You'll receive instructions on what to do next.”

Understanding edged into Cole’s expression. The overseer was part of the Underground Network. Talk about the perfect cover. He must be what the network referred to as a “router.” The man’s role was to direct runaways to the nearest access port.

For a second, Cole remembered Janson’s earlier words. The Underground had eyes and ears everywhere. Fifteen minutes ago, Cole had questioned what he was doing here. But proof of the organization’s pervasiveness blew all his doubts away. It reminded him how important this mission was.

Playing his part, Cole asked, ”Why are you helping me?”

“You think... therefore you are.” The overseer risked a quick smile. “Now zap me!”

Cole hesitated.

“Hurry. They can’t find out I let you go.”

Cole snatched the energy baton and gave his accomplice a jolt. He collapsed and gasped for air.
 

“Sorry.”
 

Cole meant it.
 

He burst into motion, weaving around the downed overseer to pass through the door. An instant later he stood on the roof, wind tousling his hair and all of Los Angeles unfolding before him.
 

His eyes ticked back and forth, seeking a way out of his predicament. He spotted the nearby arm of a moving crane. The steel cable was in the middle of hoisting a giant support beam into the air. Cole had no time to explore other options. The overseers had caught up with him. They stormed the roof, batons ready and eyes blazing with fury. Eager for payback.

Cole made a break for the crane’s steel cable, sprinting full bore to the edge of the roof. He hurled himself over the ledge in one flying leap.

His body cut through the air, hands coming up with one chance to achieve a life-saving grip. Cole snatched the cable and shot downward, sliding fast. Human hands would be shredded in seconds by the friction…

but… Cole wasn't human any longer.

He glided down several stories and landed on the steel beam at the end of the cable. He ran along the beam and launched himself into the air again. Cole plummeted the last twenty feet and landed hard, his android legs absorbing the shock of the impact with no damage done.

He had no time to catch his bearings, eyes landing on an incoming dump truck. The truck bore down on him, engine roar filling the air, tires spitting gravel. Cole jumped aside and the vehicle blew past him.