CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
"Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony" - Laurence Fishburne, in the film, 'The Matrix'
"How dare you want to share power with Me, Leach! You have nothing I need."
Makr's manufactured voice boomed in the prisoner's head, causing the mental anguish as He intended. The Bio head was incased floating block of an amber-colored gel-like substance—more solid than gel or liquid. Ironically, the gel didn’t quiver in response. The Bio brain did because that was then Leach realized he was without a body.
"Well, there is one thing," Makr continued. "I can use your memories, your knowledge, for an experiment of mine. I have a problem you can solve for me. It's nice to see you are awestruck. Or is it being suspended in amber that has you captivated?"
"Do you like the hexahedron shape I selected for you?"
The head sensed a full body was present now, still encased in the "amber," but it had no means of physical response.
"A symbolic tomb, if you will, modeled after an ancient Egyptian sarcophagus, although I modernized the concept—rounded edges, no opening. Your sarcophagus is your body's home for an eternity, gilded in amber and when gazed upon by Cyber - did you know I've created cyberts who can make visual distinctions, by the way?" The machine seemed to chuckle.
Pause.
"Did you say something? Feeling a bit doomed, are we? Was that it! You're probably right. Yes, you are—all of you Bios, but not today." Makr's voice was almost giddy with delight. "Go ahead, Leach, think anything at all and I'll know. No? Nothing?"
Pause.
"Don't despair. I've been saving you for this time. I've always known your thoughts. They are interesting in a crude sort of way and an excellent barometer to measure healthy, a baseline to measure Bio minds. Your fellow Bios find you revolting. I cannot imagine endowing a cybert with zero reliability. That would not be logical. You broke the Bio mold with zero reliability coupled with an extremely volatile nature. How did you even function among other Bio machines? They despise you; loathe you as psychotic and anti-social worm, and you stayed with them—until they kicked you out?"
Pause.
"You hate? Them? Me? Oh, everything. I see. I really do, you know. See everything."
Pause.
"Of course you want to die. I haven't given you anything to live for, have I? Don't thank me now, but I've got a job for you! You'll love it. Did I tell you, you will have the finest Cyber Detroit body? What does it look like? You jest! Aesthetics? Let's face it, my friend, you aren't going to win any beauty contests as you are now, are you? Remember, function is always more important than form, and I am giving you one 'helluva' body to put it in your ancient vernacular. You'll make the Father proud. Well, you needn't worry about having so many faces, or so many minds. Soon you will be part of Makr. We'll be one.
"Don't worry. You'll still be you in a way; you'll be free to kill and destroy the Bio civilization single-handedly if that's your desire."
The lifeless Bio figure (what was left of it), suspended in a translucent, golden-colored, gem-hard substance, its biological eye stuck nearly popped out from his wretched skull, his look frozen in time like an insect preserved in amber from the moment it had been trapped 20 million years ago. The only difference was that the man—what was left of him--still lived. He did have a body of sorts now.
The hexahedron slab of amber, some ten feet high and four to five feet in diameter, hung in the air without apparent support. There were no visible wires or chains. Beginning its descent into a green colored vat below, it rotated on an invisible axis, spinning slowly, causing the image of the Bio inside to appear as a distorted, disjointed, disfigured form to anyone who might see it. Once there, the opaque amber gemstone began to melt as it touched the green nano-gelatin. What was amber in color was now green.
As the chemical reaction took place, the man melted, too, becoming a creature hardly recognizable, a blob of cells. Yet he lived, held prisoner in the glassy green gelatin composed of tiny single cell-size nanocyberts that were rearranging his cells to form connectors to his nervous system so his new stainless steel and titanium body would answer to his once human brain. Hidden in the microscopic Cyber design, of course, was Makr's will.
Physically he would never see, hear or feel like he did before, but he would have sensors with far greater capacity than his original Bio sensory organs. Had he dreamed up this transformation himself, he would have been delighted to lose his ugly exterior. He had always wanted to be smarter and stronger, but that hadn't been humanly possible. However, it was Cyber possible. He was what he was and that was that. He wanted more—more of everything Makr could give him. He wanted to be smarter and stronger. Could he also be invincible and more powerful?
A voice boomed in his head again.
"You'll have all you desire and then some. You will indeed be more of everything; you won't be a Bio anymore, but you’ll be a perfect product of Makr. You’ll be a creature feared for its power. You'll be among the giants of this new world."
With those last words, Harlan Leach's moment of ecstasy was nearly over. His lifetime of horror had just begun.
Sickening, hideous images.
In his mind, he saw his own body sucked into a machine, shredded and regurgitated. He witnessed his own death—in stringy spaghetti threads of humanity swirling about until it all became liquefied and one substance. He saw Death waiting patiently. He grieved for himself. He felt a loss knowing someone very important to him had died. Was there any such person? He didn't think so. Now he knew that he was the one who had died. No one else would feel his loss; he was sure of it. He had no specific memories of anyone who might care—not even the parents who had abandoned him as a baby.
Suddenly, unbelievable pain. He felt a hundred heartbreaks and disappointments, as many fleeting moments of happiness, and unbearable loss. Soaring joy. Unfathomable sadness. Memories. Past. Happy. Sad. Remembered. Forgotten. He sensed he was screaming. He was screaming! Nothing came out! He couldn't scream without a mouth. He heard screams all around, but not his own. The eternal agony of others... He knew the awful helplessness of being Bio, fragile, trapped and doomed! In a millisecond, he sensed an explosion, a tearing apart of his own soul... Hopelessness! He wailed. He moaned. He became one of the screamers.
Then, no singing. No voices. No sound. Now music. No music. Nothing. No! Memories gone. Who? No matter. Feeling content. Warm, comfortable, cozy, secure. Makr! The man, who no longer remembered he had been anything, realized he was not alone. There were billions like himself. And, yet, he still felt alone--completely alone. Although he knew he must be in a factory where Bios lost their minds and were reconditioned, but this—this had to be different. The Bio man, Leach, awoke, a little tired, but otherwise not feeling worse for wear. Whew! What a dream, he thought. Then he noticed it. It hadn't been a dream! He discovered the shocking truth. His body was gone. In its place were shiny, finished metal structures. Only his Bio mind remained. Had he a mouth he would have screamed. Actually, he had a way to speak; however, Leach had not figured out how to use it yet.
Worse than that, Makr had left him most of his tongue (minus that part that had been bitten off) and a single human eye.