I thought we were making progress. That is what Dr. Hanlon had said. She was proud of my advances, my recovery. She had said so herself. More than once. But now I know something is wrong.
I sensed it when an attendant came back with my handwritten notes. He was stiff when he put them on my writing table, cautiously trying to avoid any contact. In a flat voice, he told me that Dr. Hanlon would be by shortly. Then, as he walked to the door, he gave me a peculiar look with a quick glance back at my writing table. I didn’t that he disturbed by my notes or was confused by my anachronistic use of writing; my pencils laid on the table beside my etha-pad.
Before I could protest that I didn’t have a meeting with Dr. Hanlon, the attendant fled my room. Tendrils of dread crept in my being. I know that is cliched, but that was the main reference that I had access to. The attendants had always been friendly. Yet this one did not want make eye contact, even small talk. That had never happened before.
Yet I did not wish to have the sense of dread get the better of me. It was not worth the turmoil. I needed a focus, a distraction. Which is readily available to. So I turned to the small window that has allowed me to look out to the world I have been banished from over a year ago. A deep breath and a simple thought, I pushed away my feeling of dread.
Out of my window, I can see a busy traffic exchange, where ‘cars move about in an intricate three dimensional ballet. They always seem to be trying to be ahead of the car around them. And every so often, I can catch a glimpse of a family. For the briefest moment, I see children fidgeting in the back seat. It is a sight that brings back a faint remembrance of my original purpose; what I supposed to have been born to do. God had placed me here to help the children. But with my breakdown, I failed Him. And them.
It is possible Dr. Hanlon is right. I’m a sprinter with no stamina. Start something but cannot finish it. Maybe my nickname was apt, in the end. I can’t say for sure, since we had not gotten that far in my therapy.
Yet that thought pulled me away from the chaotic traffic outside my grey cell, to the only graphic I have in my room, just above my writing table. It is a digitized picture of a greyhound in flight. Something I had found while casually browsing the nodes.
What had caught my attention when I saw it, even though the graphic is blurry, is that it shows the energy the greyhound has. Front legs stretching out, back legs lifting up to push the hound forward. All the muscles are tense, taut. Working together to send the hound forward. The greyhound looks ahead, totally focused. Jaw slightly slack. Every part of the body working in tandem, for the elusive quarry the graphic doesn’t show.
My contemplation of the greyhound was interrupted by a click and hiss to my left. My door was opening. Out of spite, I did not turn to look. I knew who it was. The sense of dread seeped back into my mind.
“We need to talk,” Dr. Hanlon’s voice was clipped, her professionalism sounded strained.
“If it is bad news, I really don’t want to hear it.”
“We need to talk, Grey.”
I stiffened on hearing the nickname Dr. Hanlon had given me. It was not often she used it. It forced me to turn and look at her; to see my dread was warranted. She stood at the door, a deep sadness welled in her eyes. Yet the sadness was tinged by regret. As she moved into my room, her body was tense. Her shoulders hunched. Her body language was screaming to me. It was then I knew for sure I was condemned.
Quickly I turned away, not wanting to see or hear her. I started to riffle through the congregation of papers the attendant had returned. Pages of notes and ideas that had come from Dr. Hanlon’s suggestions, my new assignment as she called it. Something I took beyond what I should have.
“Don’t ignore me, Grey. We need to talk.” Her soft voice tried to get my attention.
“As I said, if it is bad news, I don’t want to hear it.” My voice came out flat.
“You don’t have a choice.” The words were crisp.
I turned my head to look at my doctor. Her short blonde hair was meticulous as ever. Her hospital lab coat hung loosely over her short frame; hiding most of the shape of her body. The sadness in her hazel eyes was intense.
“I did not sprint fast enough, did I?”
A hint of offence tinted the sadness. “That is not why I gave you that nickname.”
“And why did you?” I had to control my sarcasm. I grabbed at the graphic, pulling it off the wall. “Is it because you have to name each one of us?”
“From the beginning, I could see what makes you unique. You are fast at grasping things.” Dr. Hanlon paused. “But you don’t expend too much energy as you grasp them …”
“Like greyhounds. They are fast dogs but not high energy.”
The doctor moved forward and gently put her hand on my forearm. For a moment, I wanted to shake it off. I was surprised I was not as angry as I thought I would be. All I could feel was resignation. In the end, I have no control here, no say.
“It is more than that. More than that.” From the corner of my eye, I could see her glancing at my writing table. Her body language spoke volumes to me; her assignment was my death sentence. Once again, I had stepped over a line I should not have. And from what I could sense from Dr. Hanlon, for the last time.
As I turned to look at her, Dr. Hanlon pulled her hand away. She went to the lone chair in my room. Heavily she sat down.
“Yes, when I first met you, I was reminded of a greyhound. I had a couple when I was a child. You are right, they are extremely fast dogs yet not high in energy. They are sprinters yet love running. And they don’t need extensive exercise for training.”
“I am not being trained.” I found the comment insulting. I am who I am. Created in God’s image. We are not trained.
“We all are, Grey. That is what life is, as I know it. And the life as you know it. Our journey is our training.”
“Which has become these four grey walls. A view to a busy exchange, hinting to what is beyond this place. A room that is meant to be a sliver of hope which now is a death sentence.”
All I could do was stare at the executioner in my chair, wishing I could get angry. But I can’t ignore the reality in front of me; the reason I was sent here. I have a big mouth. I am a voracious reader. Constantly looking for the truth; an obsession I did not see. I stopped taking care of myself and hurt the people around me. The seeking of truth subsumed me. It affected my work, my relationships, and me. So that is why I ended up here; to get help.
“How can you say that!” I was surprised at the vehemence in her voice. “No one here is ever put to death. Do you think we are that barbaric?”
“I don’t know any more.”
“Grey, we need to talk.” There was a sharp urgency in her tone. “Just clear your mind and think of the now. We need to focus on the now.”
“So greyhounds don’t need extensive exercise for training?”
“Leave it be!” Dr. Hanlon cried. I looked back to the chair. One of her hands was starting to tremble. “We do not have much time.”
A wave of peace suddenly came over me. I was still holding the graphic of the greyhound in flight. I turned my focus on my writing table. The graphic slipped out of my hand to land about the damning pieces of paper. My investigations stared up at me, with their tight script. They reminded me not to let go of my convictions. In the corner was my partner in crime, my small etha-node pad. The screen was black, yet soothing. All on my small writing table told me I was right; it was they who were scared of what my investigations suggested.
“Grey, please look at me!” The plea pulled me from my thoughts. I let out a soft sigh.
“The problem with greyhounds is they don’t have territorial instincts.” I quoted from something I had once read. As I turned around again, I could see the comment shook the doctor. For a moment, she looked away.
“Dr. Hanlon, I know why you identified me with a greyhound. I see you do that to all of us here. You need to find something to distinguish us.
“I am fast at grasping things. I dive into subjects quickly, like a sprinter. But that isn’t why you see me as a greyhound. You saw something else. Something that I cannot have, the one thing wrong with me.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about!” She bolted out of the chair. Her eyes darted about, brimming with despair. “Please, we need to talk.”
“Soon.” I said softly. I needed to be in control for once. I had read once that a condemned man was granted one last wish. Mine was to open Dr. Hanlon’s mind. At least try.
“Why do greyhounds make good pets?”
“That is a stupid question.” The words oozed from her mouth.
“Why do greyhounds make good pets?” I grew stern. “Dr. Hanlon, I deserve an answer!”
Her eyes were a well of conflicting emotions. She turned away from me, not answering. Her body was stiff with faint ripples of trembling.
“Well, then, let me answer the question.” I said with a bit more force than I wanted to. “The reason they make good pets is because they are mild and affectionate. They get along with children. And they are loyal to those who have adopted them. That is what you want me to be.”
“And you were,” Dr. Hanlon sobbed. “The Parkers did not send you here lightly. They know you adored Jenna, Jason and Jack. Your loyalty was never in question.”
I glanced over my shoulder to my writing table. “Yet my assignment has become a point of contention, hasn’t it?”
“All you have to do is let it go.”
“Why should I?”
A shudder racked the doctor’s body. “Why do you have to question the traditions? That is why you are here. You put yourself here.”
She spun around to look at me. Slowly she shook her head. “Greyhounds have a strong desire to chase things. That is why they need to be kept on a leash.”
All I could do was laugh. I had thought she might have been different; someone who might question. I saw I was wrong.
“So it comes down to those like me have to be kept in control. The goal of my rehabilitation.”
“Yes … no .. you don’t understand!”
“But I do.” I was surprised that I was so calm. There was a small part of me that wanted to scream and rant, but it would do nothing. What surprised me was Dr. Hanlon thought I was so naive. I had been part of society for over 20 years and only caged in this place for 1 year. Things had not changed outside these walls over such a short time. From the snippets of data I could gather, things seemed worse. Restrictions were tighter.
I suppose, in the end, my mistake was thinking, stepping beyond my station in society. I dared to ask questions. And when I was commanded to stop, I had the audacity not to. So I was sent here to hear a litany of that it was wrong to voice an opinion that had been shown to be wrong. When I questioned by who, the retort was always the same. By those who know.
“Grey, please talk to me. Please!” Once again her plea pulled me from my meandering thoughts. As I focused on the doctor, I wanted to shake her. Make her see. But what good would it do? What stood in front of me was just another drone. Like the rest of us. Each one with their proper place in society, given a specific task to keep the complex web of the machine working.
“There really is nothing to say,” I said slowly. “The decision has been made. There is no turning back.”
“No, no.” Dr. Hanlon’s hands fluttered frantically in the air. Her body was now trembling visibly. Her coiffed hair was becoming mussed. “This is only a small set back. You were making such good progress.
“This is my fault. And I have told my superiors so. I should have never assigned you this topic. We can set this right. My superiors have agreed with my evaluation.”
“And what you propose?”
“All you have to is just destroy what you wrote. Say it was just a flight of fancy. As I told them, this is just a delusional episode.”
“But you are lying.” My voice was flat. “And I would be lying.”
“That is not the point,” she grew defensive. “You just had a relapse. They will accept that. And then we can continue with your recovery.”
A small laugh started but was strangled as it came up. The four grey walls reminded me what my place was. There would be no recovery, just retraining. I had to be put into my proper place or removed permanently from society.
“You just want to rein me in. Pull on the leash. Let me run when you think I should run.”
“How can you say that?”
“You have read what I have written. You were the one who would have reported it.” The acknowledgement in her eyes was a flash of terror and sadness. “You have no choice. You had to. In the end, you are drone. Just like me.”
“No, I’m not!” The anger in her voice echoed the prejudice she held toward me. She believed she was better than me.
“There is a simple reason you don’t want me to think. I can analyse and synthesize amounts of data you cannot. You asked me to write about God and I did. But going through the wealth of data available to me, I found flaws. I found misinterpretations. I found abuses. That is what they don’t want anyone to know.”
“What you wrote flaunts tradition. You dare say that our traditions are wrong. These are the basis, the foundation of our great society. It is why we have been able to withstand the godless hordes that have destroyed so many countries.” Some colour came back to Dr. Hanlon’s face. I had to suppress a smile. She was going down the path I wanted.
“I know we are the bulwark of hope. The beacon shining into the darkness. But what about the truth?”
“We have it,” the doctor snapped. “We have the Book and the teachings which span centuries, no millennia. Who are you to question what these holy men have written?”
“When was the last time you read your Book?” The simple question was a barbed arrow into her chest. Her eyes widened for a moment. It looked as if she was trying to find an answer but did not dare to respond. Yet I knew the answer.
“You haven’t read it recently because you’ve been told not to. That is the domain for the priests and pastors who haunt smoke filled cathedrals and churches. You read the dollops of wisdom from the theologians who sit in their musty rooms, picking at the carcass you call tradition. Have faith in the system. Have faith in your leaders. Those you look up to are no different …”
“Do not say it!” Dr. Hanlon cried.
“Than the Sanhedrin.” I continued, ignoring her. “Why is it the truth scares you so much?”
“It doesn’t!” she said quickly. “But if you persist with this delusion, I cannot help you.”
“Read your Book and then see if I am wrong.”
The trembling stopped. Dr. Hanlon’s body language told me she had given up. I could see the resignation. I was a lost cause. There was nothing else she could do for me.
“So it must be,” her words had a finality to them. “There is nothing more here for me.”
“When will I be put to death?”
“We don’t do that!” Her words flew from her mouth.
“But you do.” I could see the doctor did not know how to react. She did not expect me to be so calm, so reserved. “Putting me into storage is no different than death.”
“You are wrong! In time you will be revived. You will be …”
“Once the programmers find the bug in my programming. Find the code that makes me think and question. And once those objects are purged, then I will be restarted. And reintegrated into society.”
Dr. Hanlon shook her head slowly. “You cannot equate that to death. All we will be doing is fixing you.”
“But I won’t be me once you fixed me.”
“I thought I could reason with you. I can see I was wrong.”
“That isn’t want you want, Dr. Hanlon,” I said sharply. “You don’t want to reason with me. That is why you have been pulling on the leash so hard. And now you going to do to me what you do to uncontrollable dogs. Put me to sleep.”
“I am done here.” She had regained her composure. Slowly she ran her hand about her head, pushing on the strands of hair that had escaped from her moulded style. She was preparing herself to go back into her world.
“The truth has a way of coming out, doctor. It has a way of being revealed.”
“Not by you.” Dr. Hanlon made her way to the door.
“There are more out there. More greyhounds. And some of them will be human.”
“And we will find them,” she did not turn to look at me. “Every thing you have written is wrong. There is no truth to your findings. The reality is that, be it a virus or programming glitch, you believe you are better than us. We created you and we can destroy you.”
“A little harsh, I would say.”
Dr. Hanlon spun around. Her body shook with fury. “How dare you suppose anything? You are but a mix of mechanics, electronics and flesh. You have your place and you could not remember where it was.”
“I thought …”
“You were not programmed to think. That was what I was trying to do. Without invasive procedures. But I see I was wrong. There is nothing more I can do now.”
She turned to the door. She pulled out her passkey and opened the door.
“The attendants will be here in ten minutes.” She did not even look at me as she pronounced her indictment. “That should be enough time for you to collect yourself. Find your peace.”
“So you wash your hands of me?”
The dart made Dr. Hanlon stiffen suddenly. I expected her to turn to look at me but she didn’t. She walked out into the hallway.
“I have done what I could. I have no blood on my hands.”
The door hissed shut behind the doctor. I stood in my grey cell for a few minutes, sorting out my feelings. Soon the attendants would be here to collect me. Bring me to a control room and shove a cable into the port in the base of my neck.
With a simple command, the mainframe would initiate a download protocol, ripping all the code that defines me. All the objects and networks that evolved over the past 20 years would be put into a protected area. Then at their leisure, programmers will be able to pick and prod over all the details that made me the individual I had become. To find the elusive code fragments that made me dangerous.
For Dr. Hanlon, she does not see this as death. I am not human, so she is safe in her rationalization. But J679X439 will die. When I am brought back, I will not think. I will do what I am told. Perform my duties without question.
Yet I have some solace, some hope. Be it human or cybernetic, there are those out there who are questioning. Daring to question the theocracy that has gripped this continent. I do not believe I am the only one that can see the system for what it is.
The funny thing is that, when Dr. Hanlon asked me to write about God, I had no idea that I would end up asking a question that would scare everyone. I thought it was a legitimate question. It is a question asked in the Good Book. Why is it asking if the law was made for man or was man made for the law causing such a reaction? I thought I was asking a legitimate question.
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This 326 word review has not been unlocked.
Your idea is agood one. The ending works well. I am not impressed with the overall writing, however. This is something a good editor can fix, though. The ideas and storyline are yours and will make a great novel, if you thought to expand this.
The things I found wrong with your writing include word use, especially words like ‘had’ and ‘that’. These are words that are commonly overused. The general rule is to read the line with and without them, and if the line means the same thing both ways, leave it out. You also missed your use of the words to and too. Don’t get them confused. I felt you use of commas was also somewhat erroneous, but often comma use is a matter of choice, not so much of rules.
While your idea is fairly fresh, your writing is pretty stale. Please read more, and read a greater variety of genres. I want to see this, only with a fresh style, and with a proper aplication of the conventions of our written language.
I think you have good potential. I enjoyed the story and would only offer a few ideas. Don’t get caught up in using words that people don’t normally use. It confuses the reader. Write as if the reader was a youngster, or a teenager, with a limited grasp of language. When there are only two people in the scene there’s no need to add “she said” or anything else to indicate who is talking. Make it flow like a normal conversation. I did like the ending and with some tightening I think it would be a good story. Try to write like you speak without getting caught up in the Thesaurus. Keep on writing!
The twist at the end was a good surprise. I did not expect that at all. The premise of the story is very challenging to write, and considering what you have so far I think you’ve done really well with this piece.
It’s a challenge to speak from the perspective of a computer. You’re limited in the amount of body language and action that the main character can take. Also, you cannot give a full physical description without giving away the big reveal at the end. But you compensate for that well, especially embellishing Dr. Hanlon’s actions. The dialouge rang very true and plausible. It flowed very easily throughout.
Still, it was a little tough to read through due to the lack of description and action, and the abundance of dialouge. I’m not sure how you can write around these issues. I can tell you did try, again referring back to Dr. Hanlon. But I’d suggest to push it a little further, somehow adding description and action where you can, and not making it so dialouge heavy. Either way, excellent work.
I really enjoyed the tone and pace of this piece.
It is definitely a realistic version of the future.
Good stuff.
If anything, I think you can be more subtle with the android revelation. Play with it a bit more. I like the whole greyhound motif, but would have liked more of the whole, ‘no territorial instincts’ thing, it seemed like a powerful metaphor left begging – leading to questions of ‘boundries of though’. Anyway, I enjoyed it.
I like the reflective tone in the last paragraph. Basically a smooth read except for a few isolated areas. I think you might be missing a “to” in the first paragraph and an “a” in a later one. It just makes the flow stumble.
I think that this piece worked rather well, you made reference ot the tense issure in your notes and it didn’t really bother me as I was reading except for this line:
“Tendrils of dread crept in my being. I know that is cliched, but that was the…”
didn’t really make sense to me.
I really liked your greyhound thing, it added a very large sense of authenticity for some reason..just good dialogue I guess.
keep it up
Definately a thought provoking piece. It grabbed my attention immediately and I remained thoroughly interested the entire time. It flowed very well and had a dark twisty macabrish rhythm that I appreciated. Excellent use of misdirection in portraying Grey as a human being rather than a robot.
The BIG BROTHERish theme of controlling a society and it’s subjects through programming was interesting and very well portrayed.
I thought that Dr. Hanlon’s character was a bit flat and lacked substance, though. As a supposed authority figure I didn’t see her as having much other than the control to end his existence. In a way she seemed much like Clarice in her first encounter with Hannibal in Silence Of The Lambs. She didn’t seem to have much confidence and for a paragraph or so I thought that she was perhaps in love with him, so that was a trifle confusing. Other than that the dialogue was great.
Even though his existence is at stake, Grey is determined to stand tall and stick with his ideas, instead of falling in line. He has his own foundation and has developed his own tradions. In a sense he’s a rebel and that’s made very clear. I liked the way you portrayed him emotionally, as if he were human. The fact that Grey is pondering theological and philosophical ideas describes how much A.I. has developed and evoled and how it is being kept in check according to how the controllers of the society desire.
In my opinion, Dr. Hanlon’s asking Grey to write about GOD is the cause of his downfall. It’s like asking an alcoholic to take a drink after a few years of being on a wobbly wagon. He thought he was doing well in his rehabilitation and maybe he was, but she ruined whatever progress was being made. Afterall and even though he’s a sophisticated robot, he seems to still be somewhat apt to being told what to do.
All in all I enjoyed the story very much. Keep up the great work! Breaking through to the other side is just a matter of hard work and dedication, so keep chipping away! :)
Loekie,
Overall, good job. A generally enjoyable piece. I have mostly compliments, answers to your questions, and a few limited complaints.
First to respond to your questions. As an aside, I didn’t even notice the past/present tense contradiction, and I’m usually the first to jump on that, which must mean that it works for the story, fades into the background like a technique should. Also, I think the end works generally, although I think it could work better. I think I want a little more foreshadowing that the narrator is a machine. You suggest that they are going to “kill” the narrator, and that this is the future, and maybe even that the narrator isn’t quite human, but the whole cyborg thing came as a little bit of a shock to me. I think I also want the suggestion that this is about religion and questioning to start sooner. There are a few early references, but I’m not sure you build at a consistent pace to the crescendo at the end. These are mostly nitpicky things though, things that I think could make good better.
I few things I espeically like. I like how you tease the reader, giving us little details that something is amis, a need for information held just out of reach. It was effective to keep me reading. I think that you could target the reader’s questioning a little bit more, drive the reader inevitably to the same place as the narrator in the end for even more emotional punch, but, again, nitpicky. I also like the recurrance of the greyhound theme and the doctor’s need to nickname her patients. The greyhound theme makes for interesting dialogue and tension as the reader tries to guess what these people are talking around. Similarly, I think the Hanlon’s need to nickname her robotic patients says volumes about her character without a whole lot of language – it’s a nice detail.
My only other complaint is that sometimes the sentences/paragraphs containing nothing but the character’s thoughts seem a bit forced. That may be a personal bias against wanting to see too much of that, but I think it’s treading a fine line to show so much of a character’s thoughts yet still dodge the meat of the issue in those thoughts. Just a thought. =)
I did enjoy it and would like to see what you do with this in the future. Hope the review helps. Drop me an email or comment if you have additional questions/requests for clarification.
-cc
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