Dialogues on Transhumanism

By Rowe Kruger

In the year 2182 stands the city of MetalWest. Where it was once the prosperous start of transhumanism, it has since regressed into a corporate dystopia that in turn was ended through violent revolutions. Fifteen years after the fight has ended, the question of whether or not transhumanism and other revolutionary technologies should be shunned or embraced dictates the thoughts and actions of those who were involved in fight. Now with the addition of a neutral party, a replicant who struggles with his own issues of identity as to what truly separates one man from another, the well held views of everyone will be put to the test. Their discussions will range from automation, economics, and the future of entertainment to the uncomfortable truths of human nature and the very concept of the self.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781728318417

Rowe Kruger

Rowe Kruger is an Arizona resident who has been following the debate on transhumanism. Inspired by the conversations he had in life, he decided to adapt it into a science fiction narrative.

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© 2019 Rowe Kruger. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse   07/03/2019

ISBN: 978-1-7283-1842-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-1841-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019909033

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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W ITHIN THE DEEP REACHES OF a biomedical facility, memories and images for the earliest stages of a man’s formation were being formed. Though he could not consciously understand them, those still blurry flashes were inherently tied to him. As his brain was being pieced together by machines precise to the electron, these images flashed through what little consciousness was starting to form. Many of them were events with meanings that could not yet be discerned at that stage. He was remembering many key events in a life. Death, love, thrill of discovery, and the tedium of illness.

Some images would be so abstract and separated from these fragments of memories, that they could only be described as raw knowledge. This knowledge, presented as images and sounds, had little relevance to the more mundane images of everyday life but some, particularly those associated with the formation of life, sparked some emotional investment in the new brain being pieced together continuously over the course of days. Such images were well connected to the parts of his forming brain associated with who he was in life.

All of his life, as best as the understanding of it through various available sources could produce, was recreated. Even vivid memories of his final moments before his ultimate demise were able to be recalled. In many ways, due to the sheer amount of sources available to the architects of that person, their creation would know more about his life than the man he’s based on by sheer fact that they are more immediate and not lost to the fog of age.

If he were able to see himself, he would gaze upon an almost constructed brain. Much of the grey matter and neurons have been constructed. Only a remaining few layers of neurons in the neocortex remained and yet that made all the difference between who he was supposed to be and who he could end up being. Connections rooted as deep as the innermost part of his brain are yet to be fully realized by the time he remembers reading varying opinions of his work and feeling a horrid sinking feeling in his gut when he had to anticipate the scathing words of a detractor. At that point in time, he also remembers hearing about his close friends and scientific associates defending him and his work against people of significant reputation who want nothing more than to utterly demolish it.

Had he been truly aware and not on a dream like daze, it would have been very clear to him just how reluctant of a man he was to actually engage in controversy despite the amount he remembers causing. Actually, the only thing he recalls where he personally engaged in politics was on vivisection. He understood well the scientific benefit that such a practice might have if it were an especially skilled and inquisitive man wielding the knife but was appalled and considered it damnable that it would be used for medical theater for nothing more than the teaching of students who would be better off learning from cadavers than the withering whimpering unwillsmg4ing animals they watched. Mercifully, for the period of development, the images were as blurry as any other.

Eventually all of the brain brain was completed and the machines began constructing the rest of the head and nervous system. After that, it was closed off by the skull while other bones were being constructed and eventually the process of recreating the rest of the body was underway. At that point, the first great diversion from the intended recreation had to happen as the machine was only capable of creating a healthy shell for mind to reside in.

Still unable to comprehend his state, he did not feel the electrodes sink into his muscles and fire in order to get him to make rudimentary movements nor did he feel a machine attach itself to his head to remotely control him in order to test out the connections between various parts of the brain and their corresponding actions. The procedures of stopping and starting someone’s heart multiple times or that every function of the body was tested at least once would be horrifying to anyone to learn about, but to a person who is still no more a man than a corpse might be, it made no difference. Such actions could only be tested by complex hulking machinery in a closed off chamber away from the prying eyes of people with hands far too clumsy and slow to perform such an operation.

Weeks later when his body was taken out of the gestating chamber and placed in a room to lay down and become accustomed to the air. For hours he reeked of the fluids that kept him alive in the birthing state and still had a millimeter thin layer of clear blue liquid coating some of his skin. The body had to rest for a few days and be assisted by machinery until it was able to withstand fully the outside environment. Medical devices that once kept coma patients alive until neuro-revitilization surgery could be performed were repurposed for that very task.

When his body was durable enough, the procedures continued. Cosmetic work was done by machines to shape him in a way that straight up genetics wouldn’t be able to handle. By the end of it all, the man left in that room monitored by machines was an older looking white male with no hair on the top of his head, a long white beard, and roundish nose. It would be a fairly familiar face to anyone on the outside savvy in history.

When he did finally open his eyes and was able to comprehend the world around him in a somewhat lucid state, he found the light utterly incomprehensible. Multiple staff members, neither fully organic or entirely mechanical were present and reading over his vitals on devices he could not begin to guess what they were. Great care was taken to ensure he remained calm, assisted greatly by the medication constantly flowing into him, but he could not help but to think he was in some sort of nightmare.

Further tests far less invasive than before were done to see how well his mind was functioning. He was able to read, write, understand object permeability, and answer basic questions that required observational skills. His mathematical ability was sub par to the average man in the future as was his understanding of scientific phenomenon, but those issues were expected. It would raise far more questions if he were not a few hundred years behind.

The amount of years that had passed since he last walked the Earth was one more excruciating shock after all the others. When he last checked the calendar, it was the year 1882. When he asked one of the doctors what the date was, he was told it was July in the year 2182. Little else was revealed afterwords.

When he passed all of the physical and psychological exams, it did not take long for him to be called up to meet a most difficult man. Even without a fraction of an idea of the full picture, there was something strangely haunting about one of the unsightly doctors stating that a man named Victor Ivanvotich was eager to see him.

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B EFORE HE WENT UP TO the highest floor in the building, he was instructed to change from simple hospital gowns to a green and black worker’s jumpsuit with the explanation that it was only temporarily apparel. In complete contrast, the man opposite of him was dressed in a black suit with bright orange trimming. He had no facial hair but did have dark metal wrapping around the sides of his face and chin as an equivalent that was embedded in the same layers as his actual skin.

That man introduced himself as Victor Ivanovitch and utilized the minimal amount of pleasantries needed to begin explaining the world to the quivering lab grown man. Holding on one arm at the chair on the opposite side of the table he sat in, he invited Darwin to rest his legs after the lengthly journey up. The following conversation was slow and rife with foggy misunderstandings. One spoke in a heavy British accent and the other was distinctly Russian.

A replicant? That’s what you’re calling me? He had an idea of what the word might mean, but found it difficult to grasp it’s relation to himself.

Yes, I’m sure you know who you are. Ivanovitch nodded.

I know who Charles Darwin is, yes. He confirmed. And apparently that’s who I was, uh, modeled after?

The first mistake was made and Ivanovitch tried to calmly correct it. Not necessarily ‘modeled after.’ His DNA was the basis for your body and we were able to recreate his memories and personality as the basis for your mind. That’s the two main components of what separates one person from another and is, wouldn’t you agree? He held his hands together during the explanation. At first, Darwin thought he was wearing a pair of black gloves but after a cursory glance, he found that much like the doctors before, Ivanovitch’s hands were mechanical. The big difference outside of color was a grey iron ring on his right index finger.

And that is what a replicant is? A recreation of a person?

It may be arguing semantics, but do not think that recreation is not equivalent. There was a level of strictness in the Russian’s words.

He had many questions he wanted to ask the doctors when the sheer shock of waking up had worn out and yet none of them would even oblige him when he asked why he wasn’t in his home or where his family was. Now he was beginning to understand a little, and yet he felt more lost then before. What is DNA?

Deoxyribonucleic acid. The most simplified explanation is that it’s the… Careful consideration of what the man would know had to be taken with any explanation about anything. The doctors struggled on that, making basic medical devices seem more like magic. instructions on how to make life. Every living being has it in every one of their cells. It determines how you look, what illnesses you’re prone to, and in many cases, can even affect how you think.

And based on what you said earlier, every individual has a different set of these instructions. You used my DNA for the basis of…making me. So it would not make anyone else.

Exactly. You’ll have the opportunity to read more about it later.

Certainly you must be joking about all of this. If what you say is true, then supposed to be dead. Yet I’m not. I can even imagine in vivid detail how exactly it happened. I still don’t quite understand what’s going on. The process for replication was still not yet a perfected science, and being the earliest lived human replicated, that made the process all the more difficult. His memories took place farther back than any of the others. It took a lot of his concentration to prevent his hands from shaking. I am…he is..this is so confusing. Am I actually dead? Or am I him in some strange afterlife?

You think you died and went into some postmortem realm, Darwin?

I don’t recall having any convictions of the afterlife by the time I died. In fact, I very much recall finding myself very much denying religiosity in private conversations. But where am I then if not Heaven or Hell?

This place? It’s the central hub of Prometheum. It’s the company I run. He held one of his arms out to present the room they were in. Despite the rigid artificial material they were made of, they were capable of every movement the natural body could do. The connections between his brain and his prosthetics even sent signals to and from his mind faster than evolution has resulted in with the natural species.

Not helping his situation was the sheer sensory overload that was the room Darwin was in. The walls were partially covered in gold tiles that were in the process of being removed to make way for machinery extending from each wall into the ceiling in an orderly web of metal. Various statues of people with many different augmentations that barely looked human stood guard at the sides of the room like knight’s armor in a stereotypical haunted house setting. Their twisted forms matched those of the doctors well and some even had the same odd implants that he had on him. In the back behind Ivanovitch’s desk was a wall covered completely be a red curtain.

Like the Greek titan, correct?

In a sense, yes.

Darwin took some time to take in more of the surroundings. There were portraits of people on the walls, some he recognized from his own understanding of history at the time and some he wouldn’t be able to guess the identity of if he had a million years. Ivanovitch’s desk however had a very utilitarian look, covered in nothing but scarce machinery that Darwin had seen a few times already but couldn’t understand the purpose of them.

On the western wall was a large brass art piece of the company’s name in a special font and below that, the company logo. It was a single double helix segment that at the top extended upwards upward in a straight 90 degree angle before bending inward at a sharp right angle two inches. At the top of that was a general shape of fire. Darwin understood that it was a torch and guessed it was related to the company name, but couldn’t think of why the lower portion was designed in such a peculiar manner.

Are you sir, a replicant?

I am not.

Another wave of silence hit the room. This time Ivanovitch decided to speak up. His words were cold and removed from the situation as if he were approaching the whole thing like talking to an experiment rather than another human being. How exactly are you feeling right now? What thoughts are running through your head?

As of so far I must admit that nothing has freed me from the harsh suspicion that I’m in the most absurd dream.

Why would you assume you’re dreaming?

Most of what I remember is from a time and place that most certainly isn’t here, wherever that may be. So much of what’s around me is like magic almost, I can’t even begin to comprehend it all. If that makes sense. It’s stuff I never even came across in these memories of mine. And in many ways, I’m not even sure if these memories could really be considered mine!

I had anticipated that this would be difficult to come to grips with. The world around you is centuries beyond when you lived and I’m sure it doesn’t even seem like you’re on Earth anymore. The fact of the matter is, you’re the first person brought back who wasn’t highly invested in the future.

The full meaning of such words fell on deaf ears as Darwin still wrestled with his own thoughts about everything. The prolonged existence in what he still thought was an impossible world made harder to justify him dreaming as no matter how much he urged himself mentally to wake up, each time he closed and opened his eyes and still saw that same frail man sitting opposite of him with his inhuman hands calmly folded together.

He could only try to sort things out internally. If he were dead and in some sort of afterlife, it most certainly wasn’t any predicted by any religion he knew of. His more faithful acquaintances, if they woke up in such a world, would have been severely disappointed to find such an ungodly figure trying to explain to them who and what they are.

What if I didn’t accept this premise of yours? I may look like Darwin and I may remember things that were a part of his life, but certainly bringing a man back from the grave is an absolute impossibility!

That’s a bit of a philosophical question if anything. What makes a person in general? Their DNA? Their memories? Their opinions and thoughts? That’s all you. Every aspect of him, you are just like I explained before.

Are you so certain that there’s nothing else? You really think there’s not some other piece of the puzzle?

What? Like a soul Ivanovitch scoffed.

Nothing quite like that, no. It just…all a bit much to take in. I suppose I will need to dwell further on it. He had reservations about whether what Ivanovitch was saying was true or not, but based solely on the man’s criteria for what separates one person from another, he couldn’t think of an argument against it. He only wanted to know more for the sake of clarity. How close am I to that man? I mean, I wasn’t born to his parents.

"The replication process is a very complicated one. It’s one of the more…forefront areas of science. We had managed to get samples of your DNA. We know enough about your life in all of the biographical accounts written about you that we can take all of the events in them and recreate them with extreme precision as memories. As far as I am concerned, Mr Darwin, the sum of a man that sets him apart from anyone else in the universe are those two factors. Bodies influence the life and life itself is a collection of memories and experiences which in turn results in the individual.

For a brief moment, Ivanovitch had some life in his voice but fell back to a cold inflection. While not pleasant to hear, it did make his words sound far more true due to the emotionally detached way to conveyed them. It was quite simply a scientific fact, not an opinion as far as he was concerned so there’s no reason to even try to employ charisma where knowledge was sufficient.

The conversation was slow, but he had too many questions to leave it there. Ivanovtich’s form was something he had never seen before and even if the man did not seem to show any signs of hostility, Darwin did not understand the hows and whys of his appearance. Mr Ivanovitch, in the brief time I’ve been alive again I have seen people wear metal inside of them like casual clothes. Forgive me if I sound inconsiderate, but I simply cannot shake the overwhelming feeling of…aversion, shall we say, over it.

Don’t feel sorry about your aversion to these facts. Like I said, it’s to be expected. In fact, the first person ever brought back who actually was invested in this technology went through a sort of future shock. He held out one of his arms in front of him, using his mind to alter the shape of the appendage to stretch out beyond his sleeve and bend in a manner similar to a snake. The sight of what once was an unreal limb that otherwise acted normally taking on the form of something completely inhuman Darwin’s heart to race and his mind to wonder what it must feel like for one’s arm to distort itself. Subtly, he took a step back.

When Prometheus gave man fire, he wanted him to be able to do things beyond his natural capabilities. Put a man in a cold environment, and he’ll die. Give him fire, and that tool would allow him to live when biology would not. That is what we are doing here. We’re extending mankind beyond his limited capabilities with the power of technology. His fingers could split vertically to give him double the digits on a single hand and even bend themselves so much, they too curved in the same manner as the rest of the arm. The term for it is transhumanism. It’s the next step in evolution.

He didn’t mention the fallacy of assuming evolution works in steps it the end result being some arbitrary superior, but that didn’t stop Darwin from talking. It’s…quite a sight. There was an faint feeling of nausea when seeing Ivanovitch utilize his arms in such impossible ways.

The Russian took no notice of it. His gaze was transfixed on his own body. It is, yes. Arms. Legs. Organs. Step by step, the failing human body can be replaced. If only it could be done faster.

Feeling he had made his point quite clear, Ivanovitch quickly changed the subject. Gesturing toward the gold tinted window underneath the company logo, he once again almost sounded human. Would you like to see what the world of tomorrow is like?

Not saying anything, Darwin got up and walked over while the Russian limbered slowly behind him. For a man with advancements beyond base humanity, Darwin couldn’t understand why he moved so sluggishly but thought it would be far too rude to bring it up. Remaining silent, he placed his head close to the window and squinted to see what’s outside but found it difficult to make anything out through the gold which immediately disappeared when Ivanovitch casually pressed a few buttons on the machine mounted into the table they formerly sat at. The replicant was taken utterly by surprised at the sights and nearly lost his balance. It really was like looking at another world.

The world of tomorrow was a fantastic looking place. It was something that wasn’t even in any of the strangest stories he remembered reading. Buildings far more massive than anything in Westminister conquered the sky and seemed to serve as land for smaller buildings built upon them. Contrary to his own time, the vehicles were not pulled by horses but instead flew swiftly among the mammoth structures. In the distance, their outer lights caused them to look like fireflies. Vivid images projected off of the surface of the buildings advertised various products. A whole army of men could stand feet to head and not reach half way up the length of some of them.

It was all so intense. Even the lights from the outside world illuminated his body and clothes in colors he had not seen projected in such a manner before.

It’s quite a cluster out there, isn’t it? Ivanovitch finally spoke up after minutes of silence. There’s still so much that needs to be fixed.

Fixed?

Not everything has been solved in the future. Some problems have even become worse but that would be better saved for later.

You sound like there’s more to that then you’re letting on, Mr Ivanovtich. Is something wrong?

For another time, Charles. Until then, why don’t we visit your domain. I’ve had a place set up that should help you ease into the future. It will not be easy to learn everything and adjust, but it can be done. Darwin could tell he was trying to hide something but didn’t press further. That man was his best guide to the world he woke up in and he didn’t want to have any strain on the limited relationship they’ve formed. If nothing else, he seemed to have had everything planned out and very well could explain his cryptic words in time.

Not quite as lavish as Ivanovitch’s office, the route to Prometheum was still a sight to behold. With no gold plating on the walls, machines and technology freely decorated the interior. Some of the machines were stationary and performed very specific tasks. Some were mobile, walking on two, four, or eight legs. Every one of them seemed to ignore the two men as well as the other employees of the company who they passed by in the screen plastered halls of the company.

Darwin could see a general trend with the populace of the building they were in. Every one of them were partially mechanical. Their skin was embedded with strange machines and indentations which made their physiology downright alien in many respects. Such machinery ranged from very sleek and refined to an almost artistic degree to dull and utilitarian. But whether they were coated in vibrant wires or smooth white plastics or even sported extra limbs, it made no difference to the naturalist who subtly stepped left or right to make further distance between himself and the augmented humans he had immediately come to fear.

Ivanovitch took notice. The man wasn’t very well versed in human interaction but his artificial eyes are able to alert him of the mood of other people based on their expressions. You’re still concerned about this technology?

I simply cannot comprehend why on Earth anyone would go through that? It looks downright painful. He shuddered to imagine what the procedure must have been like.

There’s a lot of reasons people would, Darwin. But I can at least assure you that medical science is much better than what you’re used to. They didn’t feel a thing.

Prometheum’s main building was expansive beyond what Darwin could imagine. So much that it even had a group of floors that contained individual houses within like a neighborhood. Plenty of buildings had gone that route as the years went on when individual houses with lawns and driveways were no longer viable to the majority of people. Some architects tried to recreate it in residential pockets of mega buildings but there was always something about them that seemed lacking even to men of the future.

There was hardly an element of it familiar to Darwin. A building within a building and of an architectural style unfamiliar to him, the two story slanted roofed house sat idly in the middle of an artificial lawn. Unlike his own house he remembered so well, the place was made entirely of different metals. It had a solid steel door that slid into the walls when they approached and no windows.

There’s a few neighborhood’s worth of buildings like this in Prometheum alone. Employees would sometimes opt to live inside company walls for convenience.

Not entirely unlike some of the lower class areas back home then. I don’t want to think any further about what it says about me that I’m now in this situation.

Even a man like Darwin, who found some source of awe in every odd form of the future, did not feel any sense of wonder when looking inside. Very little color was visible that wasn’t on various lights on strange machines of unknown function. He recalled that even the most run down areas of the poorest parts of London could afford color. Walls were flat and featureless and in several of the rooms were large white metal cubes with not a single feature on their surfaces. The only real distinct furniture was a bed which was just as dull and featureless as the rest of the place.

On that bed was a flat device around the size of a sheet of paper. Ivanovitch picked it up and turned it on, navigating through various menus. I’ll try to show you how this works. Pay close attention. With one press of a button, a small red beam came out from behind it and navigated its way to one of the walls. With more button presses, the walls formed a gradient from white to green until it was a solid dark green color. Programmable matter were not well loved by furniture manufacturers. You can change the texture, shape, size, and color of objects and structures. A lot of newer houses use that in place of actually furnishing things.

He continued to demonstrate its powers on some of the structures in the room, focusing more on some of the pre-designed models to save time. It was actually very mesmerizing to Darwin to see the bland cubes turn into more elaborate wooden drawers and cabinets. Similar technology is used in my own arms, but a lot more limited unfortunately.

It’s as if mankind has truly become gods! Is there anything this programmable matter can’t do?

Alas it took so much longer than anticipated for this technology to be perfected. It still can’t recreate electronic devices which is why this place isn’t completely empty. This technology will be very useful in the future. After all, a lot needs to be rebuilt after taken down.

What do you mean?

Nothing.

For the next hour he gave Darwin an overview of the various machines and how to operate them. The process was slow and agonizing to Ivanovitch as Darwin frequently did not even understand even the most basic aspects of the new technology and required the most simple concepts to be repeated. He predicted that getting a man nearly four hundred years after his death up to date would be a tedious process but wasn’t even remotely prepared for the headache it would cause to hear a grown man without any irony in his voice ask how the internet is stored on the computer terminals.

VR equipment, cooking apparatuses, and general equipment were eventually explained. After that, Ivanovitch had to leave and said he’d be able to explain some of the more complicated technology like the neuro-chair or homeostasis units at another time.

This will be a good place to stay for a while while you think about everything you saw. Do you understand how to use the technology in here?

I think so. He lied.

By the door is a set of numbers to call if you need help. Some maintenance staff better than I am at explaining things would be able to help. It would be best for you to stay here and get some rest after everything.

Do you live here?

In another area of the building, yes. He pointed at the ceiling. On the highest floor.

What happens now?

Taking one last moment to think through what he had already explained, he believed he had covered all the major bases for the day. More would have to be addressed for the replicant but he believed that if he left the man to his own devices, no major issues should crop up. I need to get back to work.

Is it conventional to leave a man from so far in the past to himself so soon? Not that I’m complaining, but what if something goes wrong?

Call the numbers by the door, just like I said. If you need medical help, call them. If you need something fetched for you, there’s a department clearly listed there. You’ll find it’s a lot easier than you would anticipate.

He felt he had learned an entire semester’s worth of facts in just a single day, and far too much to easily commit to memory. If Ivanovitch is right and by virtue of his DNA and replicated memories are what defines an individual, then that would mean that everyone he knew in life before his ended could very well still be dead. Just as quickly, he realized that machinery are no longer only building sized husks of metal but can now take on a size smaller than a speck of dust and still perform complex tasks. That thought too was overshadowed immediately by the realization that people were now merging themselves with their machinery. There was no longer a distinction between a man and the tools he used in the future but now perhaps the entire world is crawling with those near automatas.

He hadn’t read even the earliest works of what could have been called science fiction, making him completely unprepared for any of the possibilities and wild dreams that had eventually come to pass. If all of these facts had been presented to him back when he was first alive and not through various scholarly articles and websites on a machine he could barely comprehend, he would have immediately assumed that the presenter had a rather active imagination and nothing more.

In order to try to understand the world around him better, he tried using the personal computer Ivanovitch showed him. The lesson was brief and without much detail which made his attempts at using the machine that he was informed gave access to the total sum of mankind’s knowledge a difficult endeavor. The only thing more challenging than figuring out how to use it was figuring out what he’s want to learn first. After some time, he settled on getting up to date in what his own work had become.

Quickly he discovered that his work had been meshed together with a whole new field of genetics which in turn became the foundation for the entire field of biology and had in turn influenced other sciences in other fields, closely related or seemingly impossible to draw a connection to, as well. Not being a man who experiences pride often, he tried to take all of that in a humble stride but couldn’t help but to internally revel in the fact that he had done so well the first time around.

Overwhelmed and exhausting, he was finding that after a few hours of scouring the facts that he was beginning to just read them rather than commit them to any memory or updated scientific worldview, and opted to stop for the night. Additionally his eyes, unused to the portals to the sum total of human knowledge, were starting to hurt from gazing into the light for too long. However, there was one final question he had: what of his friends and family?

His legacy in science was evident and he cared not for any further indulgence in glory, but he did still have a personal life behind all of that. One he would find almost concerning that historians know so much about. Inside an empty house within a mammoth structure filled with thinking machines and perverse human forms, he could begin to tell after the high of learning wore off that it would begin to get intolerably lonely.

What he found as far as lineage goes is that the further down the line his descendants go, the more dispersed their lot in life is. Some have managed to obtain respectable scientific careers, others had found good work somewhere else and made a small name for themselves, and the majority had made no impact at all and only lived their lives as well as they could. Over time, the name Darwin fizzled out after generations of different marriages. Evidently, the close Darwin-Wedgewood connection had begun to cease shortly after his very own children grew up.

Though they are far removed from his life, he had a more enjoyable time reading about the utter strangers connected to him by genetics than he did about the people he actually remembered. A haunting realization that they were all dead and he was not had become more evident the more he read on. That burden he had passed onto his wife and children to keep continuing on after his death had been placed back onto him ten-fold.

Learning that his wife was able to live out the rest of her time in their tranquil abode gave him some peace of mind. His children had managed find proper lives for themselves. Even his dog did not suffer significantly, having died shortly after he did having been robbed of the joy of lengthy walks around his owner’s thinking path due to the unfortunate fact of nature.

But it’s not an unfortunate fact anymore. Not a permanent one anyhow. Ivanovitch had said he’s not the first to be brought back, only the earliest. He wondered if, using the same technology that revived him, that it would be possible to bring his loved ones back from the dead as well. Maybe they would be less difficult, he reasoned, since they didn’t live as extraordinary lives as he did. They wouldn’t need to make sure they were able to fill their heads with vivid memories of a trip around the world or long days of rigorous scientific study. Would that not be easier?

He knew next to nothing about how the process is actually handled, but

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"E LLEN, CALL MEDICAL AND HAVE them get prepared. I feel awful." Ivanovitch commanded. His personal assistant followed him back to the office to give him a daily briefing.

She was in a much better state than Ivanovitch with healthy synthetic skin and hair and a very fine figure matched only by the soothing nature of her voice. There were only two ways to tell whether or not she was human. The first would be to cut her open and discover her blood is mostly clear with only the slightest reddish tint and her organs are all mechanical with no similarities to the ones that power regular humans. The second would be to closely look at her eyes and see that they are the most evident mechanical part of her exterior.

The labs are getting anxious, sir. They want to know when new products are getting out. She was very polite, as were all robots. Through various specific programmings and redundancies, they were incapable of even imagining disobeying and bringing harm to humans.

They’ll be released soon. The internet is riled up about some stupid controversy related to the company and I don’t want sales impacted by It. We’re going to let it die down and then resume as normal.

She didn’t need any equipment to send messages. All she needed to do was think to access the Prometheum network and the labs would get his instructions soon enough. Also, Theresa Hendrix needs to talk to you. The protesters are back.

Oh for fuck sake. Put her on screen.

And like that, one of the screens hanging from the ceiling lowered enough for Ivanovitch to comfortably look at it and projected a view from the camera Prometheum’s head of security had installed to her riot helmet.

What’s the situation out there, Hendrix? The question was almost rhetorical. A small crowd of less than a dozen people had gathered, waving signs primitive and technological about what an awful company Prometheum is and how it needs to be shut down. A team of them were wearing matching shirts proclaiming themselves as actual humans and yelling over the rest of the crowd about how the dangers of augmentations and the unfair world they cause.

One name in particular showed up on many of the signs: Donatello Rumparte, the former CEO of Prometheum and the reason for its current reputation. An incredibly bluish black man with an outrageous hair style and a face that reeked of smug superiority. At least it would had the images on the signs not been manipulated to put him in a less than appealing light.

No more tyranny! Keep us human! No more Tyranny! Keep us human! They chanted.

They’ve been here for a half hour at this point, she confirmed, Do you want us to get them out?

His reply was quick and his tone strict. Absolutely not. Call the cops and have them to handle it.

Are you sure? We can handle it.

One protester felt bold enough to try and rush into the building but was quickly apprehended by two guards and shoved back in with the crowd.

Hendrix, I want you to understand this. Under no circumstances is this to escalate. Call in the police and have them disperse the crowd. I don’t want to hear even a single murmur about our guards treating protesters unfairly. Do you understand? His voice was rarely firm, but he made every effort to sound as serious as possible.

She took a good look at the crowds. Many of the faces she recognized even without enhancements. Her strength supplying cybernetics had been seriously underused ever since Ivanovitch made drastic changes to how the company should handle dissenters. It’s been years sir and they keep coming back. It’s smaller than it used to be but it’s still disruptive.

And they’ll be there for many more years I’m sure. But things are changing and the masses have turned well to our side again. Time is starting to heal some wounds. I don’t want all of that progress to be fucked up because you can’t handle some minor crowd control.

Her call was interrupted by another bold protester. Hey HEY! Get back. Back! She screamed at him. The sight of an overly armored guard pointing a heavy weapon at him was enough to get the man to slowly back away into the crowd.

As I was saying…this is a war of propaganda. We’re fighting with ideas now, not guns. If things weren’t able to escalate over the smallest infraction, it would be easier for the both of us. Unfortunately, even if things are going well, it will take only one mistake to set off something major.

Before she could acknowledge what he said, he told Ellen to end the transmission. The screen turned black for a brief second before reverting to its generic wallpaper of Prometheum’s logo. Protesters have been an issue for the company for a long time. Even in its earliest days there were people who objected to many of the futurist ideas it tried to bring to the market. When Donatello Rumparte became its leader and began to focus more on control and self enrichment, whatever protests were able to be held under his reign, they were as passionate as they could ever have been.

Ivanovitch remembers them quite well in his previous job when he wore lab coats rather than business suits. He was once one of the leading members of the research and development team working on neurological augmentations. Occasionally from within the company’s walls, he’d look out the window and see an endless sea of fires and lights illuminating small illegible signs that rose above the heads of hundreds of people demanding the company to cease its tyranny. There would be no leaving out the front door those nights. Eventually, protests or not, employees would leave the company from its roof and be dropped off on other less contentious buildings.

A lot of arms had to be twisted and politicians bought to start to quell the chances for protest. That only inspired people more. Ivanovitch understood that fact quite well and was at a loss as to why Hendrix didn’t even though she was a member of security back during the company’s darker days and one of the few who stayed around after Rumparte’s demise.

Some people just don’t get it. He mumbled to himself. This company will reach heights unseen before but we must tread carefully.

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B EING HONORABLY DISCHARGED FROM THE army had its benefits in a society where one’s class level was automated. No matter how much trouble Martin Loggins caused for the company, his service convinced the automatic productivity registry that he couldn’t be bumped down to a C-Class. It was an overlooked error on the company’s part when they made that promise to the country as a means of getting the people behind the whole idea. Had they waited a few years later, they wouldn’t need to convince any of the masses who were unable to put a dent in their efforts but Rumparte wasn’t known for patients. He wanted to separate the world by neat little sections where he and those he admired would be on top as soon as possible.

Still, some human elements were able to do some damage. Loggins’ resident was pushed as far to the outer edge of the B-Class section as possible, ensuring the shopping mall he owned had an entire half of the sky obstructed by one of the block residences just behind it. Those concrete and glass structures were the biggest eye sores in the the city and had been designed like commercial airlines to fit as many people as in as little space as possible. Loggins’ had his issues with the military, but he was forever thankful of the skills it gave him and that it prevented him from being forced to live in an area no larger than the average college dorm.

In the past people dreamed of social mobility where if they worked hard enough, they could crawl out of poverty into a comfy middle class lifestyle. The ones who worked the hardest would even achieve vast amounts of wealth. Such dreams grew more impossible over time. Everyone heard feel good stories of incredibly productive workers moving out from their dorms and living a comfy life in one of the solo residences in the B-Class section, but not one person could name a known friend or accomplice who achieved it.

Living life was like being a prisoner for the longest time. Some grew up in that life and didn’t know what it was like to experience actual freedom. When everyone in C-Class sections had bulky locks attached to the doors of their houses that regimented when they were and weren’t allowed to enter and exit, the daily schedules became hectic where people scrambled like drunken fools running away bulls to get to their rooms in time. When security systems were put in place to ensure that people were in their rooms according to schedules, it made the whole ordeal all the more severe.

A bulk of the fifteen years of undoing on Prometheum’s part as spurred by the Rights and Residence Restoration Act passed by the US government when the company was severely crippled. Though Prometheum was dedicated to removing the systems and providing basic utilities to C-Class residences, Loggins held that it was not enough. On that night and every night before when he stood on the roof of his long shut down business, the sight of the utilitarian structures were a clear reminder that nothing Prometheum can do could truly make up for what it subjected the city to.

Prometheum was the biggest scourge on the planet since fascism and its tactics and results were indistinguishable from what the ideology brings. MetalWest used to be a much better place before it became the city’s biggest power but one would not have been able to find solace from its influences past the city’s walls.

Though the street lamps were shut off decades ago when his shopping mall went out of business, the many electronic posters on the walls and projections from the roof provided all the lighting he needed. Don’t Be Afraid to be Human they said, featuring stock images of happy un-augmented people from a time that clearly wasn’t the one he was in. Below him within the three levels that comprised the center were many people ranging from those who were augmented and are trying to revert back to people who managed to hold out for decades against the oppressive changes wrought by the company and remain fully human. Most of them were tuned into television monitors to hear about how the latest protests were going and were sorely disappointed to find out that nothing has truly changed. A few tried to play the motivator and said that the constant vigilance against Prometheum was having an effect even if it’s not immediate but most agreed that it seemed as if the company did not truly care.

Loggins’ understood the cycle quite well at that point. Protesters would come in and cause some noise. Prometheum would then call the police to clear them away and nothing would change as a result. He opted to skip the news. The buildings in front of him were all the reasons he needed to keep the fight going.

Nothing. One of his accomplices made her way to the roof to deliver the news. Just like last week.

I know, Evie. The protests just aren’t working out as I hoped. We need to stop focusing on those pricks and start talking to the people. Loggins flicked his drug of choice off the side of the building and turned, getting only a disapproving stare in return.

What we need, Martin, is to start using force again. We tried peaceful protests for fifteen years with you saying it’s time for the population to heal and look what’s happening. They’re getting a foothold again!

Donatello Rumparte is dead. His board of directors are dead. The fuckers in government he paid off have had their skulls crushed. Look, you’re being too impatient. The more we can get the people who start resisting the regiment of still being forced to work in order to live, the more likely we can start seeing some actual changes. Putting bullets in the head of Ivanovitch and all the creeps he’s working with now isn’t going to inspire people to resist turning into machines!

They’re just going to keep building themselves up again. Who’s to say Ivanovitch isn’t going to be better at quelling opposition than Rumparte was?

I’m not just interested in crushing Prometheum, damnit! I want to see the world in general improve! That’s not going to happen if we focus all our efforts on one fucking company. Mind you, they’re not the only one selling this crap. They outsource their tech to other companies now!

All the more reason then to strike. You can’t make a better work with dictators running it.

And you can’t prevent dictators if people don’t have the means to. He pointed right at the block residences. These people could eventually free themselves. We need to help them. When they are in a position to truly call themselves human…when they realize what that means, they’ll fight to keep that. Nothing is going to change for them if we only focus on the companies.

She said nothing after that for a while. Loggins took the opportunity to sit in a lawn chair under a heating lamp he had moved to the roof for relaxation sessions like this. He even had a plastic cooler next to it that he reached inside and pulled a drink from. The man had no problem being confrontational but still found it upsetting that his closest accomplice couldn’t see the big picture.

At last she spoke up. Martin, you know I have only the highest respect for you, but it’s getting more and more difficult to just sit back while a new threat is on the rise. Being the man to kill Rumparte isn’t going to mean much when we’re back at square one.

He didn’t reply. Knowing it was effectively the end of the conversation, she went back downstairs to discuss these matters with the others. By that point they had stopped watching the news and were attending to their daily businesses.

Such criticisms were not new to him. Despite wearing the same pseudo-uniform that he bore when he was actively resisting Prometheum by less peaceful means, it was evident by the way he conducted himself and spent more time relaxing on the roof that he wasn’t as invested in resistance as he used to be. While he still commanded a tremendous amount of influence among the purely human crowd that, there had been many whispers as to if he’s ready to give up entirely.

Since his more lively days, he grew his hair out quite long, looking almost like a hippy. Some of the more cynical members of the resistance said he’ll eventually resort to hosting concerts about peace, love, and understanding to take down Prometheum. His vision started to deteriorate with age and he required glasses in order to read which spurred the same crowd to joke that he just might not be able to see Prometheum starting to build itself up and he needs a better pair.

None of the comments he heard plainly behind his back bothered him much. Despite being in his 50s, he was still very much in shape, rivaling newer generations that were genetically predisposed to fitness. His mind was as focused on ever on making changes for the better. The fact that most of these comments came from younger crowds who grew up hearing stories about him actively fighting against the company, gun in hand, only to then join the resistance and find him advocating against anything more severe than shouting explained the whole situation just fine to him. They were young and didn’t understand history like he does. They don’t know about the perpetual work to live cycle and how technology was at a point where it could truly be broken if people would let the machines handle all the labor rather than turning themselves into robots in order to do it.

Times were different. If only they understood.

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A DJUSTING TO THE NEW TIME was a difficult process for Darwin. The man had a lot to learn not only on the topics of science and history but society and culture as well. He found many moral philosophies very difficult to come to grips with and was troubled by the fact he could not even begin to argue against them as they’ve become such a cemented aspect of society for centuries. It will take some time until he no longer feels a burning sense of wrongness in his gut when confronted with the changes, but being within the controlled environment of Prometheum has helped make the process easier.

No everything was a struggle. Some joy could be found even in his earliest time alone like indulging in the new sciences that thrilled him endlessly. Every book and video on a subject he took in opened a whole new world that made the universe that much more awe inspiring. He wouldn’t claim to really understand a majority of it, especially within the realm of physics and all the logic defying discoveries that had been made, but knowing that his ideas have become the cornerstone of all biology and he’s hailed as one of the greatest minds in history gave him an unparalleled sense of pride.

Outside of the strict sciences was technology. While the prospect of merging people with machinery still made him feel ill, he had a better understanding of its history from his study sessions. Additionally, though a lot of trial and error and silent frustration on Ivanovitch’s part, he slowly became accustomed to the many machines and devices that kept modern life running smoothy from microwaves to customizing furniture with programmable matter known as fogletts.

With that new knowledge, he shaped his residence into something slightly more familiar looking. Because the nanomachines that composed most of the house were so customizable, he could make the floors appear and feel wooden, have carpeting, construct replicas of candles, and all manner of 19th century design and aesthetic. Of all the styles of interiors and furniture he had come across during his catching up, none captivated him enough to break away from what he was familiar with.

Ivanovitch was quite pleased with his progress. Considering that Darwin was the earliest human to be replicated, adjustments were going smoothly and without significant error. Two weeks had gone by and the replicant had not run into any severe difficulties.

I feel like a child discovering the world for a second time, Mr Ivanovitch! There’s just so much to learn and catch up on it’s hard to even think of where to start half the time. Do I watch the latest of these movies as they’re called or work my way up chronologically? All these new works in new genres of literature will take lifetimes to read. Oh, it’s all so overwhelming!

The CEO tried his best to sound just as excited despite not being predisposed to showing emotion. That’s fantastic, Darwin. It really is. The future can actually be a wonderful place.

Then in that case, I would like to actually see it. I’m not even talking about those virtual worlds, wonderful as they might be, but actually go out and see what the future of mankind holds.

There was a brief silence between them as Ivanovitch weighed the pros and cons. While Darwin has been exposed to a lot of the era already, to go outside would put him beyond Prometheum’s controlled setting. How he’d fare on his own even for a while and what he might be exposed to were grave concerns to the man who had plans for the replicant’s future.

The world is…fantastic but it’s…not entirely safe. There’s a lot of bad out there as well just like every other period in human history.

I figured as much, but that’s part of the reason too. If I am going to live in this century, I should know as much as I can about it even if it means learning about the seedier aspects of society. Ignorance of the state of things isn’t going to help me adjust to this time period.

That may be true, but-

But what? What could possibly be a reason not to go out, mortal danger aside?

The research that went into replicating the man was extensive. Darwin was an extremely cautious man which made the reply all too uncharacteristic of him. Are you sure you’re alright?

I don’t see any reason not to be. In fact, I must say that I’ve been feeling far better than I have…since my youth essentially. Not once have I ever fallen ill in the manner that I have throughout most of my life! It’s incredible actually and really, it-it makes me want to know more about what the future can do! Come now, you must know of some interesting places to visit.

At last an opportunity arose for him to take control again. It would be difficult to keep the man inside the building’s walls without arousing any sort of suspicion but at least now he has some control over the situation. But he had to play it smooth or as smooth as his normally emotionless state could come up with. Pretending to think on it for a moment despite his mind being made, he made his move. Perhaps we should start small and simple then. I know of a few museums in the area and a rather..a rather nice place to eat afterwords.

Well that sounds absolutely delightful. It’ll be a wonderful opportunity to stretch my legs and breath the outside air I’d imagine.

Darwin found it difficult to stand still. What an opportunity it would be to start exploring the new world. Thus it was all the more difficult to wait after Ivanovitch said he’d fetch the man something to help him with his travels.

A few minutes went by which was enough time for Darwin to start pacing through the house and imagining what sort of sights he’d come across on the surface. From incredible machines to ghastly distortions of the human form, it was all so exciting and even a bit worrying to the man. He was well aware that there might be legitimate dangers out there, but he opted to avoid even hinting at the idea lest Ivanovitch start to argue against the idea further.

Eventually the frail CEO returned holding an odd looking black leather gauntlet. "Most of the people here have this stuff wired into their brains but we do have a few of these things in stock from the old days. Just slide this on your right hand