Further North

Hello World

When the world came into view, droid-545 humanly opened his eyes—the dream was already fading...a false white, almost grey interior, and a small, minimalistic bed presented themselves with a window open to the dark world. He got up, robotically, and wandered to the bathroom.

His bedroom was relatively clean of dust and mold (unlike his kitchen and bathroom). Green slime grew up the walls and in the cracks, and the faded white plastic tiles had grey shadows of dust. There was little clutter from his programmed day-to-day activities such as eating and work...there was minimal clutter all besides his bedroom which was empty except for his bed...droid-545 cleaned and styled his hair, and left for work. He was greeted with an incredibly dark morning (a morning that couldn't be discerned from night), but he didn't care, he loved it when it rained.

The soothing sound of the rain echoed in the distance while the water droplets softly pattered on his coat. The buildings all towered thousands of feet above him with cold colors such as blue and purple, detaching any soul from the city and even one's own body. Most of the advertisements were loud and flashy—and some quite vulgar. He kept his head down as he passed soulless beings moaning on the wet pavement—their glossy eyes reflected greens and reds from the somber lights.

Droid-545 walked up to a moderate building. White lights lined the cracks of the pristine warehouse—a colorless, empty white void. Inside was much darker with no overhead lights, a low ceiling, and wide space. A woman at her small desk towards the back wall quietly worked behind her computer: a see-through projection, a hologram, that lit up her pale face with the natural light blue interface. Water lines reflected from the little pools in the corners danced across her face and the ceiling. There was a low color to the room that changed with the mood-setting—first yellow, then a light blue, then green, then purple, and back to white, yellow, blue...

Droid-545 touched the counter. A pause.

Without even looking, the uptight woman spoke, "he's in his office," her voice was low and quiet, but it echoed off the walls and the ceiling, amplifying her voice above her own being, "I'll notify him of your arrival." She swiveled her chair to face him. "We've been expecting you." And handed him a glass tablet. The faded green turned to a darkened red, splattering the walls with red projections of the water refractions, and then back to a soft baby blue. Droid-545 sat down on the marble bench before the receptionist got up from her seat, and walked across the stone flooring to him; her heels clattering on the floor with every step, getting louder each time as she drew close. The droid held his head down.

"Dr. Shawl will be seeing you now."

—-

Down the walkway, the pinstriped suit receptionist stiffly strutted past the disgustingly green beds that bore torn apart humans with machinery in them, androids with human skin grafted on their metal bodies, and man-made machines that looked and appeared almost human. A loud machine whirred in the far background down the hall of the ward. There, as the receptionist took the droid closer, a man with a mask worked at the base of a machine's foot; its wires hung out and metal plating bent outwards opening an empty cavern in the heel.

"Dr. Shawl, 545 is here to see you." The doctor turned off his drill and lifted his mask. He was an old, short man with dark grey eyes with faded wrinkles etched in his skin. At first, his face showed indifference, then it lit up like a thousand lightbulbs all at once...

"Hmm..." he said smiling, "I've been waiting all month for your revisit..." Dr. Shawl gave a heartfelt chuckle. 

In room 205, Droid-545 laid down on the crisp table layered with thin paper as Dr. Shawl examined him.

"You're in quite good health, hell, even better than most androids that I see." He ripped off his latex gloves as Droid-545 sat up, the crinkling of the paper softly speaking out as he moved.

Silence.

Then the doctor gushed, "God, I never believed an engineer in cybernetics would ever open a clinic."

"I've been sent here by Core Genesis to discuss a possible job opening," He spoke with no wavering, no tone, no emotion.

Dr. Shawl stood up with effort, grunted in pain, and wandered to the sink, cleansing himself, "I would love to take you in as an intern or even nurse," he finished up and escorted the droid into the bleak hall, more concrete, more water refractions, and a dark hole at the end. A dark, vivid green light filled the hall from the lightbulbs hidden beneath the pools of water by the side of the walkway, "but, I imagine Genesis has something else in mind," they continued down the hall, their footsteps echoing louder than their forgotten words.

The droid continued, "it's a line of work I was programmed for—"

"Wrong," the doctor interrupted, stopping the droid and himself. "Come into my office, there's something you need you to know."

—-

"You're special, unique, one of a kind. When you first stepped through that door, I knew you were the future." The doctor beamed with delight, nervous, but kind.

"I am a robot with human flesh," the droid stood before the white, empty desk where the doctor sat. The room was bright, too bright, voided of windows—an air circulator whirred quietly in the hollowed walls.

"There's more to it than that—" the doctor prompted.

"I'm...I'm a..." A vision of suffering resurfaced, "I'm..." He shook his head, "you don't want to know about my past..." the droid avoided eye contact, turning his head.

Slowly, the doctor began, "you're more human than the machinery I replace on a day-to-day basis. I bet you even dream..." startled, the droid stiffened, neither confirming nor denying any accusations. The doctor continued, "well, there are things about me that would get yourself dismantled and killed for knowing, so it's best you don't ask." His face grew cold and dark, and the wonder in his eyes left for anger, bloodlust...

"For your first task, I want you to deliver a package for me. Don't open it, don't ask any questions, don't even think about it, just make the delivery. Got it?" His voice became rough and hoarse. "Got it?!"

"Yessir," the droid complied. Turning back and giving a polite nod.

"Good, and in return, I can offer you your freedom." The doctor calmed himself...

*bzzt* Doctor Shawl, Amybot-400 is here to see you.

Her voice was sweet, innocent, lacking any realization of the hideous world outside her little cubical which she situated herself in.

The doctor cleared his throat, "you know," he began softly, the overhead lights dimmed while a calming dark green light seeped out from the cracks, "not only do I fix droids, but I do research, engineering, and Racheal, my little creation, is the first of her kind. Grown and raised inside her mother's body. Yet, I was able to genetically modify her with my mechanical engineering eventually rendering her as a subhuman entity such as yourself. I even ran some experiments on how much I could replace the body with metal compartments...however, one thing that hasn't been tampered with is her reproductive organs..."

Droid-545 nodded, "what shall I do?"