Mich Me Michael

Part 2: Her

Michael searched for the lab key while Sophie waited anxiously to open the doors to that secret room. Together, they headed towards the back elevator, the one that was never used, which would take them to the depths of the mysterious laboratory. As they walked through endless corridors, Michael decided to explain a bit about the history of the place.

—This large lab was created by my great-grandfather; it's private property of my family. And this section was his secret area. He was obsessed with the idea of eternal life and resurrection. He was a man so devout in the gods that he played at being one of them. He conducted numerous experiments, but when it came time to pass his legacy to my grandfather, the obsession with this topic became the goal of his life too. Obedient and submissive, my grandfather continued the legacy and forced my father to continue his research. When my grandfather finally died, my father, fed up with everything, decided to close this corrupt research lab. They did dark things to achieve the results they got, more than I am aware of, and my father didn't want me involved in all that, at least not forcibly like he was. He never hid the story and personally gave me the key. He wanted me to choose my own path by will. The truth is that after seeing how they had destroyed our family and countless lives, I was never interested. Until today.

The elevator hit the bottom with a thud and creaking noises. The light flickered. Michael, holding the key tightly in his hand, took a deep breath. Perhaps the answer to saving humanity was on the other side. He opened the circular door, with a thick, heavy steel frame. He struggled to open it; since he couldn't, Sophie had to help.

He knew every corner of that room and the foundations of the research. They found themselves in front of a room with ten capsules stretching from floor to ceiling, machines constantly pumping fluids unknown to Sophie, and in the center, an old, button-filled computer console. The artificial lights took a while to turn on and flickered, waking from a long sleep. It was cold and dirty, the walls covered in green and black stains, and the air filled with a chemical smell. There were steel doors like vault doors leading to secondary rooms.

They approached the central capsule, where a man identical to Michael was suspended in a viscous amber liquid. His face held a mysterious look of peace, with closed eyes; his breathing was slow and regular. The cables and connection tubes extended from his body to the electronic interfaces of the capsule, merging the organic with the technological in perfect symbiosis.

—My grandfather created nine clones when I was born. The stem cells from my birth, along with their advancements, proved to be key and successfully created a sort of empty shell identical to me —explained Michael—. Only he remains.

Sophie looked at the capsule seriously and asked: 

—This was created to download your consciousness and continue your life in a new body. I don't think it was designed with the intent of duplicating a person. Do you think it will work? Will you be okay emotionally with this? 

—I expected a bit more surprise, but emotionally, you say? What nonsense —Michael mocked, dismissing the concern he considered childish—. Yes, it will work, but technology isn't my specialty. It could take me months to rewrite the necessary code to achieve it, and it's time I couldn't dedicate to the research... 

—I'll do it. You know I'm great with computers —Sophie interrupted and returned to the elevator to fetch her laptop from her room.

While Sophie walked away, Michael pondered for the 20 minutes it would take her to return. He always reached the same conclusion: of all the people who had passed through his life, Sophie was the most suspicious. He kept dismissing that thought from his mind; he was aware of his own paranoia. But Sophie was perfect, and perfection doesn't exist.

Sophie had naturally balanced features and an innocent appearance, but her intellect far surpassed that of a 24-year-old. She wouldn't have survived in a team where everyone else had failed if it weren't for her great intelligence. She knew when to speak and when to stay silent, how to influence decisions, and how to guide him on the path she wanted. And if she hadn't mentioned anything about it until now, it was because every action Sophie had taken had benefited him in his personal life, career, and goals. Everyone died from the spores, but she was the only one immune. Why was she born immune? Besides, she had chosen his lab, rejecting all the others. And in a city where access to technology was a luxury, Sophie programmed as if it were child's play.

He was sure that if biology had been her field of expertise, Sophie would have discovered the cure by now. Although he had come to think that she was responsible for the epidemic in cahoots with the Feras, there was no trace of guilt in her eyes, voice, or actions. Sophie appeared in Luftvergift two years ago out of nowhere, with no parents or family, with the ability to do anything, and chose to be a carefree and smiling girl. She had chosen him. That was more than suspicious, but as long as it served him, he would take full advantage until he discovered the truth.

There she was, coming down the open elevator, in a slightly revealing and striking maid costume, carrying buckets, rags, cleaning products, and a large backpack loaded with her computers and adapters on her back. Of course, she was also stronger than the average person.

But the question of "who is Sophie?" was not the priority at the moment. He would have time to investigate when the spores weren't waiting to kill him.

—Who is she? —asked Sophie, pointing to the last capsule containing a woman inside. 

—We never knew, not even my great-grandfather had records of her. Disconnecting her could mean ending her life, and without records, it's a significant risk. Sophie nodded, although the answer didn't convince her.

—Let's get to work —said Sophie, handing him a mop and a bucket of chemicals—. Michael cleans this filthy place, and Sophie saves the world.

Michael didn't object; it was a fair deal. The mysterious green stains he found were nothing compared to the abominations he had cleaned from his experiments. And he preferred to clean himself rather than endure Mrs. Brigits complaints.

Sophie, with headphones that seemed larger than her head, began to hum while turning on her computer. He started scrubbing.

—Why the cleaning outfit if you didn't plan to help me with this? —asked Michael, feeling relaxed for the first time in a long time, as he wiped the dust off the control console. 

—I'm a fashionista. Don't interrupt me. 

—Ja, meine Dame —Michael smiled.