Duplicate | A Human Code Story

T W O

"For every action, there is a reaction."

*

Androids weren't told of their existence, at least not in detail. As an android, I was aware of my make-up and build because it was required knowledge. If damage occurred to my systems and frame, a random technician could be summoned to work on my repairs. If that technician was unaware of my computers before entering the room, they would be lost and confused. Because of it, I needed to be the one to educate them before they cut me open.

But that was it. I knew no additional information about myself beyond those specifics. Everything else I was able to learn was acquired through daily context clues.

The fights, for instance. The training. There was the constant reminder that I was to be strong, fit, and ready for war. Yet, those reminders, simulations, and instructions never went further than at the base of our warehouse facility. A facility I knew the other androids were oblivious of. I was only made aware of it because of him.

Rory.

"All right, now." Rory placed a delicate yet firm hand on my chest, ensuring I was flat against the droid-bed. He smiled down at me when I looked at him, watching as he moved his chair closer. "This won't hurt a bit," he said.

"Hurt?" I blinked at him as he lowered the sheet placed over most of my body. My bare chest was exposed to the room. The prickling sensation of cold air moving in through the vents made me look down at my artificial skin. I watched his fingers trace a line along my abdomen.

"This is the same procedure conducted during each occurrence, isn't it?" I glanced at him as he reached over to retrieve his droid-kit. "I do not feel pain. Every reaction I display during simulation is-"

"Programmed, I know." Rory gave my chest a quick pat before revealing the tool he had grabbed from his bag. A long, slender blade with a light on its tip. I watched as he moved it towards my skin. "I'm an android, too, remember? But I'll be easy on your build. Don't worry about a thing."

"Worry..." The blade slid across my torso, effortlessly slicing through my skin. The light on its tip burned in a way that severed the artificial cells, making it easy for an android medic to make entry, but it wouldn't leave lasting damage. Rory would be able to fix me when he was done checking my system.

Only, I could not process what he said. "I'm not sure I understand what 'worry' means, sir," I said to him.

Rory glanced at me, pulling his bottom lip up between his teeth. "I'm sure you understand it. You just haven't felt it."

He pulled back the skin, exposing my internal wires and mechanical organs to the cold air within the room. A tiny spark went off near the opening. But I didn't look at it.

I stared at his face instead. "Feel?" I dipped my head back against the pillow beneath my head. "I'm allowed to feel?"

Rory moved his head, his gaze slowly shifting to meet mine. "Aren't we all allowed to feel?"

|||

What Rory said stayed with me and I wasn't sure why. Many conversations came and went through me, nothing was retained or saved. There were a few instances, however, when something would stick. But those situations arose when a human spoke to me, like Mary, or the droid-medics in another room.

Yet, Rory, an android like myself, said something that sparked my curiosity.

"Aren't we allowed to feel?"

I supposed I could feel, but not to the extent of a human. If they were to feel something, someone, it would have been by choice; their own action or need. Everything I have done, or will do, has been programmed into me. A simulation paired with a reaction designed for specific situations.