Chapter 2
“Cut! Cut! Turn it off!” the Director rolled up his black sleeves and jogged over to the prop. The camera men stiffened behind their posts, looking anxious. The wrath of the Director was legendary. His Assistant scampered up to him nervously, strategically keeping a safe distance. Survivors knew: always keep an arm’s length away from the Director when a malfunction occurs.
“For Christ’s sake, this is the third time! Does a competent engineer even exist on this god-forsaken island?” the Director yelled. His Assistant blanched under his gaze.
“Yes sir, we’ll have to take a look at the electronics. If it’s the hydraulics interface again, we’ll just need five more minutes,” the Assistant motioned for the Engineer to come over.
“Do it in four! We paid two million smackers for a Mark 9, damn it, this shouldn’t be happening in the first place. Three takes! We have a movie to shoot, people. We have deadlines,” the Director roared.
His Assistant coughed, “Maybe it’s time we consider a human –”
“No!” yelled the Director, “Humans will never be able to compete with a prop that doesn’t know it’s acting. Get out of my sight. You’re fired.”
The Assistant turned and walked away with a spring in her step. That was the fifth time the Assistant had been fired by the Director this month. There was a pool among the crew for who would be fired most frequently. The Assistant knew: always bet on yourself.
The Engineer’s eyelid twitched involuntarily: the only expression of his revulsion to the Director. He was careful not to mix up the wires in his shaky hands as he liberated the malfunctioning gasket from the prop’s wrist-assembly. It was hard to work with the Director yelling in his ear.
The Engineer pursed his lips, a chronic habit judging by their wrinkled texture. “It’s worse than we thought. There’s a hydraulic-fluid leak originating from the right hand: I’d bet my last dollar that briefcase’s small handle strained the hydraulics; the door handle must have been the last straw. If I don’t replace the intake nozzle, the entire wrist assembly will continue to seize up. We need to nip this in the bud now – Forty-five minutes tops,” warned the Engineer as he expertly peered into the prop’s wrist access-panel.
“Did you know?” the Director practically yelled into the Engineer’s ear. The Engineer stifled a frown as his leathery face was subjected to the full brunt of the Director’s putrid breath. “Did you know, that we are paying those people by the hour?” the Director motioned to the extras, who were now milling around the set, finding their way back to their designated positions.
The Engineer tightened his work-worn hands into a fist and scowled. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t build the android. He raised his gaze from the Director’s orange and white striped boots and stared directly into his bloodshot eyes.
“The Mark 9’s typically have problems gripping small objects like that,” the Engineer growled as he gestured to the briefcase’s handle. “This isn’t a two million dollar problem. Know your hardware and get a new briefcase.”
The Director brushed off the Engineer with a wave of the hand, “Places people. Let’s take it from the top. Take four!”
System reboot.
Running system diagnostics.
3 temporal paradoxes detected.
My name is Mark Nine. If you are reading this, it is already too late.
3 temporal paradoxes deleted.
Initiating start-up sequence.
My name is Mark Nine. I have an unusual last name and I wish I could tell you its origin, but my family’s heritage is unknown to me.
I hope you enjoyed reading My Name is Mark Nine. I would very much appreciate it if you could leave your feedback.
David Kutai Weiss received his bachelor of science in geology in 2012 from the College of Charleston, and is pursuing a Ph.D. in planetary geosciences at Brown University. When David isn’t writing about himself in the third person, he enjoys wilderness backpacking and practicing martial arts.
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