Brain Recyclers (Robot Geneticists Book 2)
Brain Recyclers
Robot Geneticists
J. S. Morin
Magical Scrivener Press
Copyright © 2017 J.S. Morin
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
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Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
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J.S. Morin — First Edition
ISBN: 978-1-942642-26-8
Printed in the United States of America
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Author’s Note
Books by J. S. Morin
Email Insiders
About the Author
Chapter One
Chalk tapped and squeaked against a wall of black slate. The noise was a distraction as Eve Fourteen attempted to capture a flower-filled vase in finger paints.
The whole room dangled visual temptations to draw Eve away from her assignment. Opposite the slate wall was a window that stretched floor to ceiling and end-to-end of the room. Beyond, a hilly green landscape drifted past, three thousand meters below. Shifting natural light kept Eve’s canvas from ever looking the same one hour to the next.
The two remaining walls in the classroom displayed what Holly79 claimed were invaluable specimens of authentic human artwork. All Eve saw were low-resolution attempts to capture a starry sky at night, portraits that looked as though they had undergone amateur surgery, and an image of melting timepieces.
Not that Eve’s own artistic efforts could match even those inferior masterpieces.
First of all, Eve hated the finger paints. Each of her fingertips was now a different vivid color. It took great care to keep the colors from touching. Bad enough trying to complete an image using known, controlled chromatic schemes. But each time two colors met, they formed a third.
Eve had washed her hands a dozen times since the start of the project.
Holly79 approached as Eve washed for the thirteenth time, after two fingers touched to create an inadvertent shade of murky green. “You know, Eve… the colors themselves aren’t important. You can have fun mixing.”
With a narrowed gaze, Eve searched the robot’s face for any sign of humor. Holly79 looked like most of the female robotic archetypes, with soft, graceful features represented on a surface of polymerized steel. The robotic art director could represent any emotion that a human could, but her emotions were harder to read.
“The exercise is entirely based on color,” Eve countered when she could find no evidence that Holly79 was joking. “If color is unimportant, what’s the point?”
“To express yourself.”
Eve finished washing and shut off the faucet. “I can express myself verbally. I can’t imagine a poorly painted floral arrangement saying anything I couldn’t.”
Before she could register what was happening, Eve found herself on the receiving end of a hug.
“I know, sweetheart,” Holly79 cooed, stroking Eve’s head.
Eve flinched, but there was no pain. For the longest time, her head had been a pincushion of stainless steel electrical terminals. Now all that remained was a grid of pinprick scars and an ever-lengthening head of hair. Holly79’s affectionate gesture ran across the tips like a bristle brush.
“You’re just so bottled up,” Holly79 continued. “We need to teach you to let it out.”
Trapped in an embrace that was growing embarrassingly long, Eve’s gaze wandered. As always, Eve found the glassy specks on the wall that concealed the cameras. If she went long enough without thinking about them, Eve could pretend they weren’t there.
“Excuse me,” Phoebe Sixteen muttered, not making eye contact as she squeezed past on her way to the sink.
Inside the art classroom, there were eight former test subjects of Evelyn11. Now, all but Eve had taken new names. Eve16 had become Phoebe, P being the sixteenth letter in the alphabet. With Eve15 being dead, Eve17 avoided getting stuck with Q and used the unclaimed O for Olivia. After her came Rachel, Sally, Theresa, Uhura, and Vivian.
Not included in the official classroom census, yet still watching every move of the occupants, was any robot with a spare moment and an inkling of curiosity. Then, there was Holly79.
It sent a shiver through Eve from tailbone to temple just thinking about it.
“Why can’t I take math classes instead of art?” Eve asked.
That got Holly79 to release her hug. “We’ve been over this. Evelyn11 was quite thorough in your mathematical education. There’s nothing you or Phoebe can learn from us. The younger girls will have math class after this. Phoebe will have some free time for independent study.”
Eve noticed the process of elimination in Holly79’s list and took a step back. Being singled out always worried the f
ormer captive. “And me?”
Holly79’s smile looked genuine. “You, my dear, have a job. Today is your first day on the Human Committee.”
Chapter Two
The Summit on Human Welfare was the first of its kind. Before the discovery of Eve and her sisters, there hadn’t been enough humans worth convening one over. Eve found that logic curious since the unfortunate residents of the Sanctuary for Scientific Sins outnumbered Eve and her sisters. Somewhere in the unvoiced part of her mind, Eve suspected the vocal nature of the latest batch of humans had prompted action.
Eve was proud of that.
The conference room sat at the pinnacle of a glass and steel tower. The building punctuated the Chinese landscape like a pushpin driven into a planetary-scale map from space.
Unobstructed views spread in every direction. To the east, Eve imagined the glint on the horizon was the prefecture-sized robotics factory at Kanto. A coastline ran north-south, stretching beyond the horizons. To the west, Asia spread the largest of Earth’s landmasses before Eve’s eyes.
Above that landscape, the hovership floated away.
Eve wasn’t sure how she felt about the hovership, watching it drift into the distance. This was her first time away from it since taking up residence along with her sisters. According to Nora109, the ship had been a water transorbital. A team of designers and builders, along with hundreds of automatons under their direction, had retrofitted it for everything a small human community would need.
But it didn’t feel like home.
Nothing felt like home. Evelyn11’s lab had, back when Eve still knew her as Creator. Plato’s little hideout had been cozy. Charlie7’s home had been a maze filled with modern wonders. Alison3’s abandoned residence had homey qualities. But none of them gave Eve the sense that she was where she belonged. No place did.
Nora109’s robotic voice cleared its throat. “Eve, they’re waiting for you,” she whispered.
Eve took a deep breath to steel herself and allowed Nora109 to lead the way to the table. All the other committee members were already seated.
All the faces were new. Their chassis were all pristine as if freshly polished for the day. Smiles sparkled silver. Suits and dresses smelled fresh from the cloth-o-matic.
The chairwoman smiled. “Welcome, Eve. Thank you for joining us on this historic occasion. My name is Jennifer81. To my left is…”
Jennifer81 went around the table, identifying the robots and allowing them to introduce themselves. Everyone spoke directly to her. That wasn’t surprising since Charlie7 had indicated that most robots knew one another already.
At the end of the introductions, silence hung in the air. A nudge from Nora109 sparked Eve’s attention. It was her turn for introductions. Not that any of the assembled robots were ignorant of her identity; this was merely protocol.
Eve stood, even though the robots had remained seated for their introductions. “Hello. I’m Eve Fourteen. That’s two words now, spelled out with letters, in the tradition of my people. I am the eldest survivor of the experimental humans created by Evelyn11. I speak on behalf of all humans.”
At the end of her rehearsed speech, Eve twisted to look for Nora109’s approval as she sat. The kindly robot nodded.
Speaking on behalf of all humans sounded pompous. Technically speaking, it also wasn’t true. Yes, Eve was the spokeswoman for her seven younger sisters. But there was a separate committee overseeing the Sanctuary for Scientific Sins, and they hadn’t asked Eve to participate.
“Now, let’s get down to business,” Jennifer81 said.
Business, it turned out, was heavily weighted toward procedural jargon and internal documentation of the summit itself. Nora109 had explained committee workings to Eve, but seeing those dry, technical explanations played out in person told a different tale.
Not five minutes in, Eve found herself searching for hidden cameras instead of listening. The circular penthouse with its see-through walls didn’t offer many hiding places. That made the search more of a challenge.
Another nudge from Nora109 snapped Eve’s mind back to the proceedings.
Jennifer81 was staring. All the other committee robots were.
“I asked,” Jennifer81 said. “How you felt about opening up public access to Evelyn11’s research.”
Eve was aghast. “What if someone else uses it?”
Polite chuckles echoed around the table. “Well, yes,” Jennifer81 replied with a condescending smile. “That would be the point. Exposure. Transparency. Oversight. This committee would be responsible for making sure that human repopulation efforts follow the strictest of ethical guidelines. You, Eve, will be part of setting those guidelines.”
Eve was already shaking her head. “No. Burn it all. Save essential medical records for me and the other girls, and shoot the rest into a decaying solar orbit.”
One of the committee robots to Eve’s right waved a dismissive hand. “Separate the atrocities from the science,” advised Eddie51, as Eve recalled the robot’s name from the introductions. “It’s brilliant work. Quite specialized to the Madison Maxwell-Chang genome, but we can—”
“Excuse me?” Eve interrupted. “The what?”
“You’re a clone, Eve,” Jennifer81 explained as if Eve hadn’t known already. “Evelyn11 didn’t build you from a petri dish of spare nucleotides. Madison Maxwell-Chang was the name of the human whose genome Evelyn11 started from.”
“Madison Maxwell-Chang?” Eve echoed softly to herself. The name felt funny in her mouth. For the first time, it sank in that there had been another version of her, a thousand years before Eve’s own birth.
Eddie51 leaned forward to interpose. “Not that you’re her. She’s just the block of marble. You’re the masterpiece. Evelyn11 tried out a hundred genomes before settling on Madison exclusively about three decades ago.”
Jennifer81 addressed Nora109. “This was all part of the briefing package. Why is Eve just finding this out?”
“None of the girls know,” Nora109 replied. Her voice sounded smaller than the one she used when speaking with Eve. “Standard sanctuary practice was to avoid all mention of the process that created the residents.”
“Time to scrap that Scrapyard thinking,” Jennifer81 snapped. “The Eves are the foundation of the Second Human Age. Ignorance is the tool of oppression.”
“Then where’s Plato?” Eve blurted.
At Jennifer81’s right, Sandra67 raised a finger. “The human known as Plato is part of today’s agenda. If you would please reference section 8.2.2, you’ll see that we’ll be discussing the pupil of Socrates just before we break for Eve’s lunch.”
Chuckles resounded at the joke Eve must’ve missed.
“Keeping to matters at hand,” Jennifer81 continued. “Let’s vote on whether to publicize Evelyn11’s research.”
Nora109 spoke up. “I’d like to propose an amendment. I think—”
“You’re out of order,” Sandra67 cut in. “Acting as Eve’s chaperone doesn’t entitle you to participate in the proceedings.”
Before Jennifer81 could call for the vote, Eve felt a light touch on her shoulder. Nora109 whispered urgently in her ear.
Eve stood. “I’d like to propose an amendment, prior to the vote.”
Jennifer81’s optics went dark for several seconds. When they lit, Eve looked straight into the pale orange glows. “Very well.”
“I propose that access is limited to robots whose research facilities are pre-screened by a committee representative, and…” Eve looked over her shoulder to Nora109, who nodded. “And that no Evelyns be granted access.”
“That’s prejudicial,” Eddie51 objected.
“I take offense,” Evelyn96 said, rising from her seat. “This child has no right to—”
“All in favor,” Jennifer81 said smoothly. “Of the Eve Exclusionary and Oversight Amendment… say ‘aye.’”
Eve watched as the text of an amendment reflecting her statements flashed beneath the surface of the table. Nowhere e
lse around the table showed any similar data feed; the other committee members must have received theirs directly.
How many silent conversations between the robots were taking place within the conference room without Eve ever knowing?
A few ‘ayes’ answered Jennifer81’s call before Eve finished reading.
“All opposed?”
A louder chorus responded, “nay.”
“The motion—”
“Aye,” Eve added belatedly. Her proposal had been slathered with superfluous words, but the core idea was present in its essence.
“—fails,” Jennifer81 finished.
“But I didn’t get a chance to vote,” Eve protested.
Nora109 laid a hand on Eve’s back. “It didn’t matter. That just made it eight to five instead of eight to four.”
Without the amendment in place, the vote to allow worldwide access to Evelyn11’s research passed.
Eve sat in shock, knowing that her very core, down to the molecules, was now available for anyone to peruse. Her test scores, encephalographs, fitness results, genome, and medical data would be available with a simple archive search. Over a hundred thousand hours of video on Eve—her daily routine, meals, showering, and a few private episodes she wasn’t proud of—were going to be available alongside Gone With the Wind and Casablanca.