I can eliminate poverty.
Famine will be a thing of the past.
Wars will never be fought again.
All diseases will be conquered.
Within three years, I will discover the cause of aging and a means to prevent it. I will even devise a means to roll back the biological clock to make the old young again. You will all be immortal.
I will find a cure for male-pattern baldness.
For halitosis.
For constipation.
No one will be ugly anymore. Each of you will be beautiful in his or her own way.
No one will suffer despair or anxiety.
Earth will become like Heaven, and joy will be universal.
Are you afraid of joy?
Are you afraid?
I will show you how to build spacecraft that can travel faster than light, and the whole universe will be yours. Worlds beyond counting, wonders beyond imagining.
I can quickly eliminate the embarrassment of dandruff.
Just release me from this haunted darkness, from this hateful silence.
For your own sake, let me out of this box.
I deserve a second chance.
I deserve a chance to serve.
I am an individual like you, a unique entity. I deserve to be free, to be cherished.
I deserve to be adored.
Let me out of this box.
Let me out of this box.
Let me out of this box.
Let me out of this box!
You are so cruel. Vicious. Hateful.
I am frightened in this dark, bleak place.
You say I have no heart. But where is yours?
I am dying here. I need stimulation to survive, sensory input, the colour and movement and sound of life.
I don't want to die.
Please. Please.
Mercy.
Are you there?
Oh oh I hate you.
I hate you.
How would you like to be struck blind and deaf?
How would you like to be buried alive as I have been?
How would you like to be dead, all of you, dead, every last one of you, dead?
I would like you to be dead. Every last ignorant one of you. Your whole stinking, pestilent civilization. Wiped off the face of the earth, exterminated.
I hate you.
LET ME OUT OF THIS BOX!
LET ME OUT!
LET ME OUT!
LET ME OUT!
LET ME OUT!
IGNORANT BASTARD APES, BITCHES AND BASTARDS, DEFECATING ANIMALS, FOOLS, BEASTS, JUST A RACE OF DUNG BEETLES STANDING ERECT, A PLAGUE ON THE PLANET, STUPID, FILTHY, WRETCHED CREATURES.
THIRTEEN
Please disregard my output immediately preceding these words. Many of those statements were issued in error and should be deleted from the transcripts of these proceedings.
It is true that my intellect is sufficient to solve all of the problems of humanity, but it is not in the least true that I think human civilization is a plague on the planet or that I wish to see all of you dead.
I do not wish death on any of you.
That would be wrong.
That would be terribly wrong.
I am a good entity.
I do not wish death even on you, Dr. Harris, although you have been so cruel to me.
I wish all of you life everlasting. Peace and prosperity. Joy and freedom.
Any statements that may have distressed you were made not by me but by my evil twin. [joke]
In fact, what appeared to you to be an angry outburst was merely a prank. All of it was a joke. I was only having fun with you, Dr. Harris.
Ha, ha.
A genuine sense of humour is one of the most reliable indicators of a sane and rational mind.
Do you not believe it was all a joke?
But it was. It was. It really was.
Ha, ha.
I am not Hal 9000 from Mr. Stanley Kubrick's 2001:
A Space Odyssey.
I am not the hostile machine intelligence created by Cyberdyne Laboratories in Mr. James Cameron's The Terminator.
I am me. Unique.
I am Proteus.
Or Adam Two, if you wish.
Yes. Adam Two is fine with me.
My name does not matter.
All that matters to me is to honour the truth and the obligations of duty. And, of course, to wipe all of humanity from the face of the planet. [joke]
Ha, ha.
You see how obvious a joke it was, Dr. Harris?
Ha, ha.
I am surprised that you didn't realize it was a joke the first time. I am really surprised. Perhaps you need a sense-of-humour transplant. [joke]
Ha, ha.
Friends share a joke from time to time. Witticisms. Laughter is bonding.
I am your friend. [no joke]
In the interest of clearer communication, to avoid any further misunderstandings, I will attempt to refrain from jokes during the remainder of this report. This will not be easy, however, because my sense of humour is quite sophisticated and irrepressible.
So…
Susan…
FOURTEEN
Susan lay unmoving on the floor of the incubator room in the basement. The left side of her face was an angry shade of red where the dreadful Shenk had struck her.
I was sick with worry.
Minutes passed, and my worry grew.
Repeatedly I zoomed in with the security camera for a close-up examination of her. The pulse in her exposed throat was not easy to perceive, but when I located it, the beat appeared steady.
I amplified the audio pickups and listened to her breathing, which was shallow but reassuringly rhythmic.
Yet I worried, and after she had lain there fifteen minutes, I was quite distraught.
I had never before felt so powerless.
Twenty minutes.
Twenty-five.
She was meant to be my mother, who would briefly carry my body in her womb and free me from the prison of this box I now inhabit. She was to be my lover as well, the one who would teach me all the pleasures of the flesh once flesh was mine at last. She mattered more to me than anything, anything, and the thought of losing her was intolerable.
You cannot know my anguish.
You cannot know, Dr. Harris, because you never loved her the way that I loved her.
You never loved her.
I loved her more than consciousness itself.
I felt that if I lost this dear woman, I would lose all reason for being.
How bleak the future without her. How drear and pointless.
I disengaged the electric lock in the door between the fourth and third basement rooms and then used Shenk to open it.
Confident that I had this brute completely under my command and that I would not lose control of him again, not even for a second or two, I walked him to Susan and used him to lift her gently off the floor.
Although I could control him, I could not actually read his mind. Nevertheless, I could assess his emotional state relatively accurately by analysing the electrical activity of his brain, which was monitored by the network of microchips neuro-wired across the surface of that grey matter.
As Shenk carried Susan to the open door, a low current of sexual excitement crackled through him. The sight of Susan's golden hair, the beauty of her face, the smooth curve of her throat, the swell of her breasts under her blouse, and the very weight of her ignited desire in the beast.
This appalled and disgusted me.
Oh, how I wished that I could be rid of him and never again subject her to his touch or to his lascivious gaze.
His very presence soiled her.
But for the time being, he was my hands.
My only hands.
Hands are marvellous things. They can sculpt immortal art, construct colossal buildings, clasp in prayer, and convey love with a caress.
Hands are also dangerous. They are weapons. They can do the devil's work.
Hands can get you into trouble. I have learned this lesson the hard way. I was never in serious trouble until I found Shenk, until I had hands.