|
|
|
|
Hedrik Spar tapped lightly on the glass of the animation ward. One of the medical androids was hovering over the prone corpse of his new military class, and gestured towards the impatient Chancellor. Just a few more moments.
The Chancellor had good reason to be excited; the new addition to his governing team had been commissioned with new animation codes from the last Imperium transmission burst. Now, only seven weeks after that last communiqué, Hedrik Spar was ready to meet his newest ally. It had taken Spar a great deal of time to fine-tune the requisite proposals in order to have the commission awarded. Indeed, he had spent most of the last century getting all of the details just right. Now, finally, he was looking at his handiwork from behind only a thin veil of medical-grade glass.
Then he saw his eyes open.
He craned his neck to look over the working medic, and began pounding on the closed security door. The excitement was unbearable—enough to make Hedrik Spar, a man who followed rules closely under all other circumstances—curse under his breath at the diligence of the on-duty medics.
Finally, one of the medics lifted his absorbed gaze from the table and turned towards the Chancellor. Smiling almost mischievously, he approached the door and keyed it open.
“I’m sorry sir, but…”
Spar gave him no chance to finish. “Is he awake?” He approached the naked form on the bench, looking carefully at the infant biomass. This was the form of a full grown man, freshly produced from the animation vats. The smell was distinct; not exactly pungent, and not displeasing—but it created flash memories of his own animation thousands of years previously. For an instant it was almost as if it were himself on the table, a being only moments removed from cold lifelessness into the pulsing warmth of life itself. Looking down at the body—at once his own body and that of the new android in front of him—he was acutely aware of the preciousness of life, and of duty to that which made life possible. He was almost humbled.
Their task fulfilled, all but one of the medics left the animation ward, headed back to other less pressing duties. Certainly, none of them had witnessed an animation overseen by the Chancellor himself. Nor was it common for an animation to be completed in relative isolation; most of the planetside animation facilities could produce thousands of androids daily if needed. Very few besides high-level administration androids were accorded private wards, and none had ever before warranted the attendance of Hedrik Spar.
The reclining android blinked slowly, and shifted his head on the padded table. His eyes scanned the room, finally settling on Spar’s smiling face.
“Don’t try to talk; your airway will be clear in a moment. I remember how unpleasant it is, but just try to relax. There will be enough time for talking soon enough.” Looking up at the Chancellor, the wet form on the table seemed to want to respond despite the admonition, but simply gurgled and coughed as he evacuated his windpipe of fluids that persisted from the animation processes. Spar grasped the man’s hand and helped him sit upright on the table.
The last remaining medic hovered nearby, muttering to the Chancellor that the infant form needed time to adjust, and that he should continue to rest. Spar ignored the medic, waited for the young android to finish clearing his windpipe before asking, “What’s your name?”
“Arak Uspa, military class.” The android offered nothing more, and continued to scan the interior of the room.
Uspa smiled proudly, and turned to the medic. “You’ve done an excellent job, Tiro. How long until he can begin work?”
“He’s already been implanted with all the background information,” Tiro responded, “and according to the predictions from the specifications and confirmed by the result logs, the animation process has produced a highly optimized cortex, so…”
“I’m ready now.”
The Chancellor and the medic both turned quickly towards Arak Uspa, who pushed himself off of the resting table onto the floor. They stared at him blankly. The android stood flexing its arms and hands, testing the newfound limits of his manual strength, while looking directly at the others. His eyes held a confidence, a sense of purpose, that seemed to negate the reality of his infancy. He did indeed seem ready.
Chancellor Hedrik Spar began laughing, harder than he had laughed in a long time. The medic even smiled. Normally infant androids took weeks, sometimes even months, to become oriented enough to grasp their designed purpose and be prepared for duty. The new specifications from Imperium were indeed impressive—the Chancellor couldn’t wait to begin working with this one.
“Well, we will need to detain you in this clinic for a few more days to finish tests—premature task initiation is out of the question,” the medic stated firmly. Spar nodded in agreement, though he felt that perhaps Arak Uspa was ready to begin his duties. It would take Spar a while to fine tune the new general’s ingrained enthusiasm to better reflect his own style of leadership, but he was certain the effort would be well rewarded. Looking at the muscular Uspa observing his surroundings with a quiet look of calculation, of measuring or weighing the worth of the world against his own inner metrics, Chancellor Spar knew he would be well rewarded indeed.
Spar turned to Tiro and whispered, “Please, give me a few moments with Uspa.”
“Sir... it is perhaps...” the medic struggled to argue with the planetary Chancellor.
“It is against recommendation to do this.”
“But it is not against regulation. Please.” It was indeed formulated as a request, not as a command. Spar respected his staff deeply; although his geas would under certain circumstances allow him to override subordinate authority, he very rarely did so.
Tiro bowed; he could have refused the Chancellor—but Hedrik Spar was well liked, charismatic and trusted. Tiro did not have the heart to deny him this request. “Quickly Chancellor,” the medic responded curtly, and left the room.
The Chancellor turned towards his new protégé and watched him momentarily before raising his hand and resting it on the infant android’s shoulder. Uspa flinched at the sensation, and shivered from the cold starkness of the room.
“Why are you here?” The Chancellor asked bluntly and with purpose.
Arak Uspa stared blankly at Chancellor Spar for a moment before composing his response: “My responsibilities include coordinating planetary military defense against both intra- and extra-planetary foreign assault, and providing protection services for the planetary Chancellery and in particular Chancellor Hedrik Spar.” Spar smiled politely, and struggled to mask his glee and astonishment. Such clarity and purpose, only moments after animation. Amazing.
Uspa continued, “Are you Chancellor Spar?”
“Yes, Arak Uspa. I am the Chancellor. I have had you personally commissioned to serve alongside me on Hadious Mi.”
“I am thankful, sir.”
The door to the room opened and Tiro re-entered. “We must continue our diagnostics, Chancellor. I will notify you as soon as we finish for the day and Private Uspa is resting.”
“General Arak Uspa,” the Chancellor corrected.
The medic looked at Spar, somewhat puzzled.
“It will be General Arak Uspa from this point onward. Please have his civistats updated, Tiro.”
Created to obey and serve, the medic nodded quickly; it understood an order when it heard one. Chancellor Spar turned and swept purposefully out of the chamber.
Copyright © 2004-2005 Jay and David Steele. All rights reserved.
Great so far! Patiently waiting for episode 23! Keep up the great work. I'm proud of you guys!
Posted by: Jill Buliziuk | July 26, 2005 at 07:32 PM