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ลำดับตอนที่ #2 : Embryo 1 Confidential Existence
Embryo I A Confidential Existence
In his
dreams, he could see a little girl.
The
little girl was about ten or twelve. She had milky white skin and pitch black
hair. It was night time, and the moon shone brightly in the sky. The girl stood
in the middle of some ruins of a collapsed white temple. Ankle-deep water
covered the ground. White lotus flowers bloomed and let out a soft glow in the
dark. The light made her skin appeared translucent.
He could
not see her face clearly, because the moon was behind her. Still, he could see
the ripples her movement made in the water as if beckoning. He kicked aside
lily pads and walked closer, hands reaching out for her white shoulders.
And the
dream would end right there. Every time. Every night.
“2420,
the Commander is calling for you.”
A young
man of 20 dropped his ‘The Complete Sherlock Holmes’ book on his face. He
yelped and rubbed his nose. The thousand-page novel rolled on the hard, tiled
floor of his quarter. The black speaker on the wall made no further noise as
the female announcer cut the connection off. What a useless piece of device in
this era, but it’s the most effective method when the ‘no alerts during game’
mode is getting more popular.
“Yessir,
be right there.” He rolled off the bed, stood up his full height of 172 cm and
checked himself in the mirror. His black hair was messy as usual, and his brown
eyes glittered in the dim light. He combed his
hair with a comb (which broke most of its teeth over the years), put on the
coat of his uniform and got ready to meet his commander.
2420 is a
name…no, it was a code everyone uses to call him. He almost forgot his own
name, and he doubts it even matters.
2420, as
he was called every day in this damned place,
stepped out into the hallway headed for the Commander’s room. The Commander was
all the way on the other side of the cylindrical building. He would have to
walk across multiple corridors to get there. He had to jog or else he would be
dragged into a conversation. If that happened, the Commander would get angry
again.
His heavy
boots made clanking noises on the grating floor as
he ran. A large water pipe ahead was a meter in diameter and served as a great
short cut to the other building. He leapt onto it, almost slipping but regained
his balance before falling off into the Abyss below. After a few careful steps,
he was only a little further away from the Commander’s office.
Even
though it was referred to as a building, the place they lived was actually an
underground city which served as one of the headquarters for the Royal Army. It
was nicknamed ‘Rust Town’ for its overall orange-brown tone. The government
built the city into a northern mountain ridge, and due to poor planning, it
always stank of rust and steam could be seen all the time. It resembled a steam
punk fictional city more than a modern army headquarter. Imagine a huge, circular
chasm, lined with pipes, air conditioner fans, satellite dishes, and paths made
of metal grates. That’s Rust Town, a modern marvel that smelled like old coins.
2420
waited in front of the office. The wooden door was polished to the point that
he could use it as a mirror. After he waited for
a few minutes, the door opened and a man in uniform gestured for him to enter.
A sharp stench attacked his nostrils. The Commander’s room always smelled like
sterilizer. It seemed the Commander seek vengeance on every single microscopic
being in the room. If anyone ran out of sterilizer, they could always sneak
some out of the Commander’s office.
The Commander
was a stout man with thick black mustache and receding hairline. His face was
hard and the wrinkles of the golden age added to his roughness. Two droopy eyes
resembling those of a pig looked up from a pile of paperwork. This man was
nicknamed ‘Piggy’ among the staff. He himself never knew. If he did know,
anyone who ever uttered the word ‘pig’ would be fired and put through Attitude
Reform.
He used
to be a hero of the southern front and his pride would not tolerate such a
name.
A hand
with bulging veins gestured 2420 to sit down.
“Umm, I
didn’t miss the deadline this time. I usually do, but…” 2420 said before his
superior could utter a word. His tone sounded almost pleading.
“You tend
to. But this is not about that.” The Commander waved the guards out of the
room. “For privacy purposes. But our conversation will be monitored by Bangkok.”
“Dang, so
I can’t call you Tooty, like when I was young? Shame~!” 2420 dropped himself on
the chair. He drew a smiley face on the Commander’s glass-covered table just to
annoy him. He could already see his superior’s blood vessel throbbing on his
forehead as he took a piece of cloth to clean the smudge off. The older man
must be thinking: this brat, when he knows I’m not going to reprimand him,
he immediately tries to get on my nerves.
“I have a
confidential mission for you.” The Commander cut the chase, before the boy he
watched grow up could distract him any further. “You need to swear on whatever
you believe in that you will keep it a secret no matter what you are threatened
with.”
“I don’t
mean to be a pain in the poop-hole, sir, but I need to know what it is first. I don’t want to walk around naked in
Chechnya or infiltrate Pentagon with a screwdriver.” 2420 sank into the chair.
He liked the mahogany chairs in this office. And he had a creepy habit of
rubbing them. “Although I’m good with going to Saudi Arabia. We’re not going to
Saudi Arabia, are we? I’ve always wanted to try camel milk.”
“Babysitting.
The mission, that is.” The Commander said curtly, before the boy could go on
with his nonsense.
“Come
again?”
“Babysitting.”
He repeated.
“Babysitting
is confidential? I didn’t know you had a hidden kid! Boy or girl? Who’s your
wife? How come you never talk about it at drinking parties?”
“I don’t
have a kid. Shut up before I boot you out.”
2420
pressed his palms together in a quick, apologetic wai, a common gesture
to show respect in Thailand.
“Sounds
easy enough. I accept the terms, unless it’s a child sent straight from hell
with terrible behavioral problems, I can take care of him. Or her.”
A
contract appeared in his Retina. 2420 scanned the document quickly before
hitting ‘accept these terms and conditions.’ The Watch at the back of his left
wrist stung. On the metallic button-like device, a red light was flashing. This
meant that he was under the highest level surveillance, and his every movement
will be watched by the government. The Commander clasped his hands together.
“So we’re
ready to talk.” The shutters rapidly went down, covering the windows and the
walls. A single surveillance camera at the corner stuck out like a sore thumb.
“What I want you to do is take care of a government-created AI and make her
appear as human as possible.”
“AI?” AI
stood for Artificial Intelligence, a manmade mind.
“Yes.
Those soldiers and staff are too stiff to raise a kid. Even those with
daughters or son would not have the time to take care of it properly. You,
however…” The Commander scanned his underling. 2420 smoothed his untidy uniform
with a cheeky smile. “You’re still young. And you know what it is to be young.
Nobody still has their…spirit intact. Not with all the chaos going
around.”
“Why is
this confidential, though? There are so many AI, if we dumped them into the ocean
we would have an island.”
“The AI
is actually the most powerful weapon our country has to-date. Know what that
means?”
“If
anyone were to find out, we’d be doomed.” 2420 nodded to himself. “First, they
will report it to the UN. International agreements against developments of
nuclear weapons and weapons of mass destruction are still in place, hello!
Next, they’d want to use it and we’d not be able to resist. If some insanely
powerful country wants to take it, especially in this war time, what do we have
against them?”
“Yes. In
fact, it is an android for mass murder that uses nanomachine and nuclear as its
weapon. Well, the nuclear part is still under development. The radiation,
though, is ready for use in real combat.”
For a
moment 2420 could not register the information being said. All he managed to
say was “You kidding. I thought we had an international agreement.”
“No.
Nanomachine. Radiation. That’s what we created.”
“I…see? I
know about this radiation stuff but what can this nanomachine thingy do,
exactly? I thought it’s only for medical purposes. How would you use it to
kill? Like Nano List? Oh gosh, I don’t feel good about this.”
The
Commander moved the stack of papers aside. (Using paper showed just how old-fashioned
he is.) His glass tabletop showed a short clip of a girl touching a Caucasian
man, and seconds later he dropped dead on the ground with blood squirting out
of his eyes. The table monitor switched to a picture of that little girl. It
was difficult to tell her descent.
“Is this
a joke? She looked like a real life Setsuko from Grave of the
Fireflies. You’ve seen that movie, have you? You cried too. Bawled your
eyes out, in fact. And what do you mean let Setsuko be the one to use the very
weapon that destroys her life? Uh, wait, it was a napalm, not a nuclear…”
“She is
no Setsuko. This is our AI. Your job will be to teach her how to be human-like:
speak like a human, act like a human, and smile like a human. Make her the
perfect poster girl for an anti-war advertisement.”
“Ah, I
see. Basically my baby.”
“Sister.
You’re too young to have a kid.”
“I’m
twenty, sir.”
“To me
you just crawled out of your mom’s womb.”
“But
don’t you find it ridiculous? A living, talking ultimate weapon that could
destroy humanity, walking to the convenience store? Have you read too much sci-fi, sir?”
“This is
not sci-fi. Imagine a weapon that can cause sympathy, a weapon that can appeal
to human emotion, something that the enemy least suspect. She is our ultimate
weapon. Our key to winning the war.”
“And? Let
her pretend to be a refugee, swim to Canada, smuggle herself into the
States and detonate? Or fall an entire army without them ever realizing what
hit? That’d get an entire generation of refugee children obliterated.”
“That is
a reckless plan. We only have her for benefits in negotiations with
superpowers. She will be put to use only in worst case scenario.”
“But…”
The kids!
“Know how
this country escaped western imperialism even though it was surrounded by
England on the west and south, and France on the east? We made friends with the
Russians and other powers in Europe for protection. And know how we managed to
survive the Second World War? The Japanese were winning so we allied ourselves
with them. When they lost, we used the Free Thai movement to appeal to the
Allies that we didn’t consent to join them. We became the only country on this
Axis’ side that technically did not lose the war. The only thing our small
country has is the power of negotiation. This girl,” he tapped his pen on the
monitor “is that power.”
“I agree,
we’re always slippery as an eel. During the First World War, we were with
France. During the second, we were with Japan. We’ve always joined the winning
side, and when they’re losing we slipped away. Heck, Burmese history books say
that we’re indecisive fickles. Still…”
“You
signed the contract.”
The
throbbing pain on his Watch reminded him that he still had his life to care
for.
“…Alright.
Do I get to see her now?”
“Of
course.”
The Commander
pressed a button, and a tiny girl in white patient gown stepped into the
office. She was at least half a meter shorter than 2420. Her face was exactly
as it appeared on the screen, although in real life she looked more delicate.
Overall she reminded 2420 of a hina doll. Or a Thai schoolgirl in the 20th
century when every student was forced to crop their hair short and wear navy
blue pleat skirts. The earlobe length hair reminded him of pictures of those
school girls who looked the same, the manifestation of desire for absolute
control in education. 2420 thought there must be some kind of symbolism behind
her choice of hair style, but he let the problem sit for now.
He sat
speechless gazing up and down at the android. She looked human no matter what.
Even the Watch embed into her wrist, the tiny flicking letters on her Retina,
or the way her eyes blink… If not for her solid poker face, he would not doubt
that this person standing nonchalantly at the corner of the room was a real
living being.
“Any…care
tips?”
“Don’t
let her eat too much, take her to repairs… everything’s sent to your Retina.
Now you might want to know her name.”
“…Embryo?”
He raised his eyebrows, looking back and forth between the wall of text in his
Retina and the girl. “By the way you have a typo in here. First line where it
said ‘you have just recieved’ blablabla…‘Receive’ has the ‘e’ before the ‘i’.
Want me to fix that for you?”
The Commander gave him the ‘are you kidding
me?’ look. 2420 felt that it was about time for him to leave. Who knew what
happens when Piggy’s patience run out.
“Last
question, why call her Embryo?”
“Even a
weapon needs a good sense of aesthetics. Remember Big Boy and Fat Man? Those
are ugly names, they shame the enemy with it. I am kind enough to let them get
killed by such a beautiful piece of art. She is a tiny Goddess who kills with
mercy.”
He almost
burst out laughing because of how much his superior sounded like a doting
father. “But why me? Those reasons you mentioned…well, they just don’t click.”
“She’s
safest with you. The enemy targets me, because I am Commander, but they will
never target a random translator who doesn’t stand out from others…aside from
the messy uniform. Plus you are the remnants of the past era; someone who has
the blood of royalty flowing in their veins. It is proper for you to set an end
to that era with your own hands.”
“Alright
then. Setting an end to an era starts by…wait, where’s she gonna stay?”
“Your
room. You do have an empty bed.”
“Alright.
A new era starts by showing her my room. Come here, little girl. Come to big
bro.” The little girl tottered toward him. He put both his arms on her
shoulders as if congratulating a toddler learning to walk. The shutters were
pulled up and the guards filed back into the office. The two of them turned
around to leave.
“One last
thing, 2420.” The Commander stopped him at the door. “Take good care of her.
Because of shrapnel from that battle long ago… I’ll never have a kid of my own.
So take good care of her.”
“Does
this make me your foster son? I’m her big bro after all.”
This time
the Commander did not give him a look. “…Son, huh?”
“Okay,
see you around, Tooty.”
“Be
careful.”
He exited
the room before the Commander could get mad at him for using an old nickname. 2420
led the girl by her hand and took her out into the acrid air of Rust Town. She
did not even look at him. He was oddly reminded of the short story The Five
Orange Pips he read before Sherlock Holmes dropped itself on his nose. Five
orange pips were sent to those who were doomed to die. He had an urge to check
in his pockets if there were any pips inside. In the end he looked at the girl
and smiled.
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