Chapter 4: Chapter 2: The Specimen [1]

1.

Things are blurry, thrums are muffled, and there’s a smell of smoke. Let go of me….

But The Suit is no longer holding him. In fact, Andre is in a completely different location: a large room lit by faint blue glows.

Huh?

A plasma-screen TV hangs from the ceiling showing numbers and a silhouette of the human body. It has an afro, and although Andre is confused and sleepy, he can tell it’s supposed to be him. It’s confirmed by the list of medical stats stored next to it:

Andre tries to move his body but he can’t. He’s stuck behind a long glass screen. Upon examining the room further, he finds that he’s not the only one. There are three pods, one to his right and two to his left, each cast in an electric-blue screen with orange cables plugging into the sides. Behind the screens are shadows of alien bodies with oddly shaped heads and torsos. One of them has four arms, two at the front and two poking out from the back. There’s a number on the base of each pod, starting with 01 on his right and ending with 04 on his left.

Where am I?

A good question, one that he’s not sure how to answer. He assumes he’s been reincarnated, but that can’t be right; he would have forgotten all about it, and he can see that his name and bodily make-up haven't changed.

At the centre of the room is a large circular platform rimmed by a white light strip. A bulky terminal computer sits next to it, showing a number – 6 – which rises until reaching 13. The circular deck splits, almost like an airlock. Through the bottom, a pill-shaped elevator ascends, stopping at eye-level with Andre. The vantablack screen divides and three figures step out. He recognises two of them – they’re identical to The Suit, everything from the spider-web weave to the rotating hexagons to the incredible height – but the one in the middle is different. It’s a robot, one with the head of a blue lantern and the body of a diamond. A pyramid hovers and spins within its chest. 

The robot beeps, as if communicating Morse code, and approaches 01 on the right.

‘These are the smartest specimens in the Milky Way,’ says one of the Suits. ‘Our algorithms proved largely successful. We pulled them in yesterday.’

Yesterday?

But he was only just at school. The Suit chased him a couple minutes ago. How is this possible?

Andre doesn’t know, but his best guess is that time must have sped by while he was unconscious. He heard something about the perception of the universe being dependent on conscious observation; he also once read that the universe dies once you die, because relative to you all time would have passed in the blink of an eye. Time works in funny ways.

Morse code from the robot.

‘Of course.’ The other Suit presses buttons on the terminal outside 01’s pod. Eventually, the blue screen opens. Andre sees a giant buglike creature on the other side, complete with the opisthosoma of a spider and the face of a cricket. Although frozen in place, it’s still quite horrifying.

He’s never been too fond of bugs, especially since they’re so dirty, and this creature takes that to a whole other level. 

‘Each of these specimens has an intelligence level beyond anything we’ve ever seen,’ the Suit says. ‘This is a species of crowk. Our scanners had difficulty finding their civilisation because they live underground. Their atmosphere was heavily damaged due to an overproduction of monoxide and methane. Despite this, they managed to reach an interplanetary level within the first three centuries of evolution. Their intelligence outranks most in the galaxy. Except for Number 2.’

Morse code from the bot. Somehow Andre can tell it’s a question.

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‘Another descendant of the ape family.’ The Suit presses a button on the terminal. The bug’s pod closes and the Suit guides the robot over to Andre. The Suit fiddles with the terminal and soon Andre’s pod is open. But still, he can’t move, he can’t speak, and he can’t blink. ‘This is our most intelligent human to date. It has a processing speed one thousand times greater than that of other humans, even our most intelligent. However, without proper regulations, it may be dangerous.’

Dangerous?

The other Suit speaks: ‘How should we handle it?’

Morse code. The robot approaches Andre’s pod and runs a glovelike hand across his face, circling his forehead with an ice-cold finger. It looks back at the Suits and, once again, sounds as though it’s asking a question.

‘Yes. The smartest of its species. Humans tend to be between mid- to low-echelon intelligence, but this is unique. Compared to every intellectual species in the western region of the Milky Way, its problem-solving is on par with our own class, if not greater. This particular specimen solved The Missing Egg without using a calculator, and without being fully educated on the fundamentals of quantum mechanics. Our scanners told us everything.’

I was being watched?

Perhaps those stories about aliens observing Earth from invisible UFOs in the sky aren’t so foolish after all. He believed in aliens, yes, because in a potentially infinite universe there was a one-hundred-per-cent chance of other civilisations – and this is hard proof of that claim – but the idea that they were studying Earth, like Zeta Reticulans who harvested cows and farmers in those old ’80s horror movies, was something he never gave much thought to. Who could blame him? They were ridiculous.

The robot hovers away, taps a few buttons on Andre’s terminal, and shuts the pod screen. It voices a few strings of Morse code, now sounding as if it’s making a demand, and one of the Suits responds:

‘Moving the brain is a dangerous process—’

Angry beeping, quick, loud. The robot points at Andre, keeping its eye (or whatever it has) on the Suits. Yeah, that’s a demand alright.

‘We risk damaging it.’

‘And more,’ says the other Suit. ‘It’s possible that the human could lose consciousness forever. Once it’s gone, once the brain no longer works, there is no way to bring it back. We must approach this carefully, I.O.’

I.O. So that’s this bot’s name. It wants my brain, does it?

If he could feel fear, Andre’s heart would pound, sweat would pour down his skin, and the hairs over his body would stand. But he has no emotion, only a conscious need to escape. He misses his parents, he misses his books, and he misses his school. He can somehow sense that he will never see those things again, especially if these beings plan on moving his brain to prevent him from escaping.

But where would they move it?

‘One of the Prototypes could act as a safe holding facility,’ one of the Suits says, as if reading Andre’s mind. ‘The cranium provides the perfect environment for human consciousness. With some technological intervention, we may be able to control the frontal lobe. Controlling this will allow us to insert behavioural limits, such as acting inside of what is expected. Once again, I.O, the risk is high.’

I.O wheels over to Andre’s holding chamber and wipes a bit of dust off the screen. The blue flame flickering in its lantern head shines brighter. It turns around and beeps.

‘Are you sure?’ says one of the Suits.

One last beep. Andre doesn’t need to know Morse code to understand that it means “yes”.

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