Artificially Intelligent

Prologue

        Um...hi? How am I supposed to start this again? Oh yeah! It was August of this year. It had to be. School had just started. Over the summer, I had been working on a...experiment. What type of experiment? Let's just say it was self-sufficient. No test subjects were used. It was just me in my basement for two months, working. What was I working on? I'll tell you later.

         Anyway, I had almost finished my project and I was already witnessing the side effects. I was experimenting with my genes. By mixing genetics and bionics, I found a way to give myself weird abilities. The cool part was that the bionic enhancements were, and are, practically invisible, since they were specially designed to blend in with my flesh and behave like normal skin. I can't truly explain the ability yet, but I will try to later. At first I was slightly apprehensive to alter my chromosomes, (the clusters of genes we all have) due to genetic mutations and wear, but I then found a way to get around this obstacle. Instead of altering my genes to serve my intentions, I could instead alter my genes to except a mechanical gland-like structure. This "gland" served as a power generator for my bionics and as a hormone stabilizer. It was not made of any corrosive substance, as to not cause any future health problems. The powers of insomnia, allowing me to do advanced research and invent bionic enhancements in the span of two months. Consequently, the whole project cost all of my college savings. Oh well, I already had quite a few scholarships locked in.

        When I walked into school that day, I got confused glances from other students. I hadn't realized the amount of scars this process gave me.(mainly mechanical failures, but some from surgery) Until then, I had only really noticed two or three, one of which rooted itself right into my head starting at my left eye, snaking around the back of my scull, and ending at the right corner of my mouth. It had blinded me in my left eye, and had pulled the right side of my mouth into a permanent, un-trust worthy smirk. I'm starting to wonder how ethical my morals were for doing this.

        I started walking to my old first hour class (all students got their schedules this way) when I heard a message on the school's PA unit. "Arsenic Cyanide and Bindy Andemphine, please come to Mr. Tape's office. Arsenic and Bindy, please come to Mr. Tape's office." It rang in its usual inharmonious, yet audible overlap. I felt fear spike it my spine at the call summoning me to the principal's office.

        As I changed course to go to the office instead of my old first hour, I caught myself thinking. "Crippled Tape," I thought, "what an odd name. I guess you're one to talk, Arsenic Cyanide. Your name is literally made of two highly toxic elements!"

        I was knocked out of my internal conversation with myself when someone came and taped on my shoulder. I jumped, but then I saw who it was. "Bindy!" I said. I hadn't seen her since school let out last year.

        "Arsenic!" she said in a happy tone, but I could sense the pun coming, "I've been dying to see ya. You nearly killed me with your absence! Ya know being a hermit is toxic."

        "Really?" I replied returning the puns, "I guess I'm just a little out of my element, but what reaction were you expecting? We all know that I shelldom let my feelings out, why are you so crabby about it?" We laughed for a few minutes.

        "So what do you think's wrong, As?" "As" was the nickname she gave me in third grade. As is the atomic symbol for Arsenic.

        "I don't know. Whatever it is, I'd hate to be the one who keeps Mr. Tape waiting."

        We walk into Mr. Tape's office. I wasn't joking when I said I'd hate to keep him waiting. He was six feet and eight inches tall and about twice as broad as me, and I was around the average size for a neuter sixteen-year-old high school student. He sat on his spinning office chair as he signed some papers.

        He looked up at us and said, "Oh, hello. Are you two Bindy and Arsenic?"

        "Y-y-yeah." Bindy said. You could see the fear and anxiety virtually flowing off her face in a massive wave of sweat and uncertainty.

        "Good! I never got a chance to properly meet you both." His face went from that of a menacing statue to a friendly smile in a time that I couldn't even measure. "I wanted to give you your schedules in person."

        "Why so?" I inquired cautiously unintentionally raising an eyebrow. I never let anything happen, that would affect me, without my full knowledge of its purpose. I hate uncertainty and detest miscellaneous tasks without a solid purpose.

        At first, it seemed as though Mr. Tape dodged my question entirely. "You are both juniors, correct?"

        We nodded.

        "Well, you both have already gone over the maximum amount of credits and passed with flying colors. Therefore, I decided to give you a choice. Since you both show an interest in developing technology, and our basement is no longer in use. I had the idea to turn it into a lab for you guys. All proceeds go to the school, of course, but you will still get all of the credit."

        Bindy and I stared at each other in awe and disbelief. As if we communicated telepathically, we both said, "Yes!" at the same time.

        Mr. Tape looked relieved. "Good. I already spent the entire summer clearing the place for you." He smiled and handed us each a green piece of paper. "It will be ready in two weeks. Until then, you two can either stay home for that time, or you could start on blue prints for your projects in the empty science room."

        When we left the office I realized that I hadn't even looked at the paper. Bindy hadn't either. We looked over the fine, black ink on the oily green paper. It was a map. It showed us where to go and how to get to the basement. As I glanced over it, I noticed that Mr. Tape had written a note in the upper, left corner. It read "E950," the number of the unoccupied science room.

        I decided to stay. It would have been too difficult to explain to my dad why I had come home so early. Bindy left though. She told me that her brother had a game that he wanted her to go to. As I sat down at one of the desks in the room, I caught myself drifting off into thought again.

        I was thinking about my mother, or lack thereof. You see, I was a petri dish baby. I never met my mom because she didn't exist. My parents are my dad and a synthetic, genetically modified egg. I was a genetically modified organism to begin with.

        Minutes turned into hours. Hours turned into days. Days turned into weeks until the basement was clear enough for us to work. Once we moved down there, Bindy and I started working together on a mechanical bird that could hack missiles for the army. That was the thing about Bindy, she knew how to hack, and she could hack well. She wouldn't hack anyone except her brother.

        It was nice to take my mind off of my original project. I was noticing a lack of emotion, likely due to the artificial gland stabilizing my hormones. I didn't care, though. Whether that was because of the gland or not, I was unsure.

        With that, we are in the present. If you read this, congratulations. Have a cookie! A million dollars goes to the first person who read this. Just call 1 (800) 867... oh wait! I was the first to read this.