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  HAI-21 © 2018 Zathyn Priest

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  Edited by Scarlet Tie Editing

  HAI-21

  by

  Zathyn Priest

  PROLOGUE

  Situated outside of Paris, Sortis took up an area space of approximately one hundred and twenty acres and hid behind a high wall enclave. Jon Rylor, CEO and mastermind behind Rylor Robotics – RR – named the futuristic city Sortis after a Latin word meaning ‘capitol’ and ‘fate’. In 2076, it became an independent country backed by multi-billion-dollar annual turnovers. With its own internal government system, headed by President Jon Rylor and Vice President Mitchell Rylor, Sortis locked its employee citizens inside while keeping all others outside. By 2080, it was a strict,

  stifling, totalitarian society with no way out for staff unless driven to exit by madness.

  Chapter One

  Year 2086

  PCS: Premature Contract Severance. That was how Rylor Robotics signed out staff driven to insanity. For nine years and seven months, Luke Price worked and lived within Sortis, the enclosed RR City Complex. It seemed a perfect career option after dropping out of university. Despite a passion for animatronics, Luke couldn't make the grades needed to pursue it as a livelihood. Unemployment was widespread, education costs were high, and Luke's options were limited. He chose the military, opting for the police force, setting his sights on eventually landing a position with RR.

  At the age of twenty, Luke joined RR's internal security police. A nervous stutter plagued him since childhood and crushed his confidence. No amount of speech therapy or medication helped. This didn't seem to be an issue for Jon Rylor, who employed Luke based on an impeccable military record, and the fact his job description saw him interacting with androids more than humans. He earned a coveted promotion to Police Commander at the age of twenty-seven. By the age of thirty, he struggled to keep one of those Premature Contract Severance forms ending his career.

  Luke pressed his palm to a security screen and signed into his shift. Every citizen of Sortis had a microchip implanted inside their left hand. It gave the government immediate access to information on each person via the mainframe computer system. Name, age, medical records, citizen number, merits, demerits, everything. The government recorded and filed all data. To enforce the RR rank system, uniforms were colour coded. Those who wore pale yellow were not worth a glance. Cleaners or servants to government officials, considered as insignificant as worker droids. Those in orange weren’t given much more credit and worked menial public service jobs. Brown uniforms were technicians, blue and white were medical staff. Silver grey was worn by military police. Black uniforms belonged to government officials, and a splash of red meant they were worthy of reverence. As Commander, Luke also wore black, with silver to acknowledge a military role. Colour wasn’t the only symbolism used in Sortis military uniforms. Vintage style peaked caps, and an armband emblazoned with the RR logo, made undeniable references to the style of World War Two Nazi’s. Luke hated the connection but, like all staff, obeyed Sortis rules. No one defied President Rylor.

  He removed the cap and ran his hand over his head. A buzz cut scratched across his palm. Luke spent most of his life in uniform, in oppressive conditions. Older worker androids didn't function reliably if the heat fell below twenty-eight degrees Celsius. Nice if you were outside in the sun. Not so nice when most staff rarely felt a cool breeze. Rylor Robotics embraced futuristic innovation with science fiction style offices, stark corridors, and high-tech gadgetry. If President Rylor wanted to replace older androids with newer models that weren’t temperature sensitive, he could have. The heat did not affect members of government or other members of the elite, who had cool air-conditioned offices.

  Luke kept his gaze lowered to a clean white floor as he made his way to an elevator, avoiding eye contact with those who passed by. He didn't keep human friends at RR, and meeting a partner was out of the question. There were other gay men living within Sortis, but not many. Luke didn't stand a chance at getting a look in when others could hold dinner conversation. It wasn't often a new resident of Sortis was gay and, when they were, it took two seconds before they became the centre of attention. The latest poster boy causing a stir was none other than Dr Elliot Rylor, Vice President Mitchell Rylor's son and President Jon Rylor's nephew. For the past three months, since Elliot’s arrival, he'd barely been outside of medical facilities and technical laboratories. No one knew much about him, other than at twenty-three the guy was a skilled neurologist, psychiatrist, and bionics technician.

  Luke stepped into the elevator and tried to divert his thoughts away from Elliot. Fantasising about the Vice President’s son wasn’t a good idea. But damn, he was beautiful. Tall, like his father, with the same blue eyes. Luke had watched Elliot via screens inside the security office, and he appeared as arrogant as the Rylor name suggested. He probably had a long list of suitors vying for his attention and would not look twice at anyone, male or female, who didn’t have an astronomically high IQ. Yet, there was something about the young doctor that Luke found magnetic. From his exotic beauty, to the cat-like grace he moved with, Elliot was divine.

  Luke’s thoughts drifted away from Dr Rylor and onto Freddie. He swallowed hard to loosen a tight knot in his throat. Six months he’d worked side by side with Lieutenant Commander Freddie. Despite vowing he’d never fall for the simulated friendship of an android, Luke did exactly that. Freddie chipped away at his resolve. The seven feet tall HAI-19-M offered more companionship than any fellow staff member. Now he was gone. Recalled by President Jon Rylor, taken away by RR technicians, and de-animated. No reason given for Freddie’s destruction. Luke felt like he’d lost his best friend. He had lost his best friend. During long nightshifts it had been Freddie who shared his love for vintage television shows and old movies. They quickly influenced everything Freddie did and said, from his sense of humour to his somewhat retro speech patterns. At other times they forewent the television and opted for discussion. Luke typed his conversation in a relay message and Freddie replied verbally. It made for an obvious difference between Freddie and every other HAI-19-M. His artificial intelligence far exceeded that of any android Luke had worked with. Freddie didn’t just mimic human emotion, he experienced it. From opting for a name to personalise himself, and then quickly developing a strong personality, Freddie had a uniqueness that led to his demise. Luke did not need proof to jump to this conclusion. His friend was de-animated because he was different.

  One of those PCS forms called Luke’s name louder today than ever before. He quickly stepped out of the elevator before anyone saw him this close to tears. If staff suspected another of cracking under pressure they were obligated, under Sortis law, to report it. Humans overlooked this law if possible. Android staff were not lenient. If employees saw out their contracts, they left RR with income entitlements. If they left under a PCS, all entitlements were
void. Perhaps the final few months of Luke’s contract would be his downfall. Grief, depressive mood swings, and episodes of high anxiety grew harder to control. There had been an increase in Luke's shifts and a decrease in permitted social time. Rostered to work fifteen hours a day, from six A.M. to nine P.M., Monday through to Saturday, and be on call for duty on Sunday. He’d been threatened, intimidated, and pushed to breaking point.

  Luke walked another stark corridor, which led to a large, well-appointed security office. Once inside, he sat down at the main desk and stared outside the window. To anyone who didn't know better, the beautiful snowy landscape appeared a gift of nature. In truth, like almost everything else about Sortis, the view outside wasn't real. It changed daily. Sometimes a forest, sometimes a beach, sometimes a garden, or a mountain range. Today the frozen landscape held a strong resemblance to the cold emptiness Luke felt inside himself.

  He couldn't remember exactly when everything changed from awe over RR's accomplishments to repugnance. In his first year of employ, RR launched their debut android available for commercial sale. HAI-1. Human Artificial Intelligence - Model One. A proud geek, Luke considered HAI-1 a product of sheer genius. It wasn't a glorified domestic servant. Its role in society had a deeper meaning than to clean homes. HAI-1 cost a small fortune. Several million dollars, and this put it out of the reach of ordinary people with average incomes. HAI-1's role reflected the corporation that created it. RR had then concentrated on manufacturing superior robotics and cyber-technical products for medical purposes. HAI-1 worked alongside surgeons, never tiring, never making a mistake, never taking a day off, and always reliable. HAI-1, like all working androids, wasn't aesthetically pleasing. It didn't have to be. However, it set a new challenge for RR. President Rylor wanted to create androids that interacted with humans convincingly enough to expand their usefulness.

  Over the following years, HAI models quickly came and went. Some made it to mass production, some didn't. In 2084, RR created HAI-19. Their most successful model. An android with capabilities to mimic human emotion, empathy, and an advanced positronic brain to imitate personality. HAI-19 worked in psychiatric facilities, jails, and in non-combat military positions. It could be a friend, a counsellor, a negotiator and, like all androids, it did it without tiring. President Rylor was exalted as the god of robotics. A man whose secretive city of Sortis had no limits behind those high walls. Whatever went on in there, no matter the rumours of Rylor being a tyrant leader, he ruled android technology.

  HAI-19 ended what little was left of RR's ethics. To expand its usefulness further, a military version rolled off the production line. Whereas the HAI-19-Standard had a stature of five feet four, the HAI-19-Military towered over humans at an imposing seven feet. A war machine, with all capabilities of a standard model, but with the ability to destroy an enemy if given an order to do so. It could, and would, literally tear a man’s limbs from their sockets. If its ability to rip a human to shreds wasn’t chilling enough, the HAI-19-M could shoot a firearm with pin-point accuracy to within a millimetre. So far, this war android had not gone into mass production. President Rylor kept it for Sortis and RR, relying on its imposing, frightening reputation to keep outsiders on the other side of enclave walls.

  HAI-20 never made it into production. After billions spent on its research and design, it was deemed unsuccessful and work on HAI-21 began. Luke wondered if arrogance, money, and power finally went to President Rylor's head regarding what he believed himself capable of. Technology did not exist to construct ultrarealistic humanoids. Most of society, throughout the world, shared a united opinion on lifelike androids. Global laws were passed to ban cyborg creation, but these laws did not apply to androids. Society did not want human beings replaced by machines, and certainly did not want cyborgs. This global consensus wasn’t enough for President Rylor. He wanted to create the perfect human replica, and no one else’s opinions mattered.

  Luke took a small, slim silver cylinder from his pocket, pressed a button at the top, and activated a blue hologram screen. He pressed an icon to message his mother. Lights on the screen flashed yellow and then changed to solid red. Denied. Another message scrolled across the screen. Communication access restricted. No further information at this time. It happened whenever Luke tried to contact anyone outside of Sortis.

  ***

  The security office, where Luke spent most of his life, served as a constant reminder of Freddie’s de-animation. Now, standing in Freddie’s place, was RR’s state-of-the-art android prototype. As large as a Rottweiler, with its metal alloy fangs on constant show, the K9-4 barely moved. Android police and military dogs were nothing new. Armies throughout the world used them in replacement of real dogs. This latest model, stationed inside Luke’s office, looked more terrifying than its predecessor. Its appearance wasn’t what worried Luke the most. His concern came from being in the same room with an untested prototype killing machine. One slight malfunction and the K9-4 could shred flesh from bones. The fact it didn’t move much made it creepier. It just turned its head when Luke moved, teeth glinting as light bounced off them.

  Every time Luke blinked, his eyes hurt worse than before. He was certain there must have been sandpaper lodged underneath his eyelids. He picked up an empty coffee mug and stood. The K9-4 reacted immediately, following every move Luke made with eyes backlit in red.

  Commander Price. Message.

  Luke moved his gaze from K9-4 and frowned at the robotic voice that spoke through his earpiece. He took a communicator off his belt and tapped the 'Relay' button.

  President Rylor requests an immediate meeting with you in the Medical Bay. Level two, office one.

  President Rylor rarely met with staff personally. Luke froze, unsure of how to reply.

  Commander Price, confirm message or request repeat.

  Luke confirmed the message.

  A quick ride in an elevator to level two was far enough for his mind to fly into panic overdrive. Perhaps someone, or an android, or even K9-4, reported signs of his crumbling mental state. Luke stepped out of the elevator and headed toward office one. Like dictators of the past, President Rylor strategically placed large portraits of himself in hallways and offices. A massive banner of the man's face hung above an entrance to the main technology building. These images were a constant reminder he scrutinised everything.

  A white worker android turned its head to watch Luke approach office one's door. "Place your left eye to the scanner."

  Considering how many corporations would love to infiltrate RR, it stood to reason security measures were high. And, considering how many staff members would love to put a bullet in President Jon Rylor's head, it also stood to reason there was an Iris Recognition Scanner outside every door. Nothing fooled an iris scanner.

  “Place your left hand to the security screen,” the android said when the iris scanner flashed green.

  Luke followed the order. The screen changed from blue to green.

  "Identity confirmed, Commander Price. Disarm and place weaponry into the holding capsule."

  A panel in the wall opened and a drawer slid out. Luke unclipped a holster attached to his belt, removed the gun, and placed it into the drawer. It closed immediately.

  "If you are found to be in possession of concealed weaponry, your employ with Rylor Robotics will be terminated immediately," the android continued with its pre-programmed speech. "When in President Rylor's presence, you will remain silent and stand at attention. You will speak when spoken to, and address President Rylor as Sir. You will show the same respect to guests in President Rylor's company. No exceptions. If you disobey these rules, your employ with Rylor Robotics will be terminated immediately."

  Luke wiped perspiration off his brow with his forearm. He stepped through the door and into an office foyer. Another white android requested he follow it. They walked a short distance to another closed door. The android announced their arrival, the door opened, and Luke entered. He walked halfway into the room and stood at attenti
on.

  President Jon Rylor eyed Luke silently, pacing back and forth in front of him, arms folded over his chest. "When I require a response from you, I'll say the word respond. If you don't hear that word, you say nothing. You do nothing.” He pressed an intercom button on his desk. "The subject is here, Elliot."

  The subject? What the hell was going on? Another door opened and in walked Elliot Rylor. A bad situation turned worse. Luke didn't look at him and lowered his gaze.

  "He's mute," President Rylor said. "Can't string two words together. Nothing wrong with him, aside from psychological issues. It’s not a physical problem, it’s in his mind.”

  Luke knew his face glossed with perspiration. His mouth was dry, his limbs trembled, and his heart raced.

  “I’m aware of the difference between physical and psychological,” Dr Rylor replied in an abrupt French accent.

  Luke stole a glance at Dr Rylor, who stood his ground in a glaring match with his uncle. The President’s lip twitched in annoyance. If Luke were to choose which one of them looked the most intimidating in that moment, he opted for the young doctor. Elliot folded his arms across his chest and waited. Everything about him exuded superiority. Yet, the way he challenged President Rylor, with a steely stare and unwavering conceit, was almost impressive. He stood at least six feet tall, lean and elegant, with the all the arrogance of his uncle.

  President Rylor gave up the staring match first. "State your name, rank, and serial number, Commander. Respond."

  Perspiration ran down Luke's temple, trickled over his cheek, and to his chin. He stood with his arms at his side, aware he had no option than to try and obey the order.