Heart of the Machine

By Tawnya Torres

After earth was invaded by aliens, notorious billionaire scientist Adam Krim isolated his family in his luxurious lab inside Mount Ontake. He slowly lost his mind to his creation, a human-robot hybrid. Designed for war-extraterrestrials were not fathomed at the time but the machine is capable of killing anything, and everything. His son Bellamy

• Language: English
• Publisher: White Cat
• Release date: Feb 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9781958557327

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

EXSOMNIS

THE EQUIPMENT BEEPS and hums. It makes clicking noises. Rotating cylindrical pieces pump air into the artificial womb and filter it. The monitor has her vital signs up on the screen. Air bubbles escape the respirator and float to the surface of the tank. Bright white and blue lights glow from every direction. This specimen is important. She is humanity’s savior.

My father started this company to propel humanity into the future. He revolutionized the modern world. Unfortunately, we were invaded before we could enjoy our technological advances. I was only twelve when it happened. The sky turned dark, and a song of trumpets broke the sound barrier. A maelstrom formed in the clouds that were black and slate. Everyone in the world looked up at the same time.

Creatures with wings and folded forearms flew from the whirlpool. No one knows their origin. They are from somewhere far away. Their heads are triangular and fitted with enlarged red eyes. Black bodies with thick exoskeletons were difficult for our armies to kill. Most of humanity has retreated underground. I am fortunate. My father built his lab within Mount Ontake. He always wanted to be secluded. His theory was that science needed privacy and to be protected.

This is the second attempt at making the perfect machine. My father, Adam Krim, started the Ex Machina Project over forty years ago. His approach differed from any other’s. He took a human fetus and implemented it with the device. It looks like a metal flower on the side of her head. This enhances her intelligence. It gives her the mental speed and calculation of a supercomputer. The device augments what is already there.

Humans are smart, but the device is a welcomed advantage against the Mantodea. That is what we named the creatures plaguing our planet. They look like a praying mantis but are as big as a luxury SUV. They screech and tear up the cities. The Mantodea hunt us down for entertainment and consumption. The female aliens are more brutal than the males. They aren’t afraid to eat their own species or fight another female Mantodea. The males follow the females lead. They do what they’re told.

This Ex Machina is special. My father became depressed when the first one didn’t come to fruition. He didn’t plan for her needs correctly. She is grown with a human fetus but is partially inorganic. Besides the device, there are a few more additions. Along her spine are three wires. They have metal jacks at the end of them. She moves them around in her sleep the way a cat would move its tail.

The first Ex Machina was named Nyx. She died within ten days of being born. My father didn’t anticipate her need for complex emotional interaction and kept her isolated. His team of scientists found her dead. She committed suicide. The Ex Machina was safe from everything but herself. My father was distraught.

Nyx would have been fantastic because she had the intense need for human connection. This is what will persuade the Ex Machina to help us on their own accord. They have their own free will. My father had high hopes he could build a machine that was not only strong but also capable of love. Everyone in the scientific field called him crazy. Until now.

She’s ready, says my colleague Hotaka. His glasses have a glare on them from the bright lights.

Let’s do this then, I say and hit the button to drain the liquid. The Ex Machina ceases floating in the amniotic fluid and lays flat in the womb made of plastic and metal. Physically, she is twenty years old. Her hair is platinum blond and has grown to her thighs. She’s never had a haircut. Her face is serene. I pull the respirator out of her mouth and she coughs. Her eyes are closed, but she reaches out and I take her hand. Gripping my palm, she opens her eyes. They are hazel but glow gold because of the device. Welcome to the world, I say to her. She looks at me, then around the room and examines my team. They all wear white coats and anxious faces.

Who am I? she asks.

I help her sit up. The Ex Machina has a human body with robotic enhancements inserted during infancy to grow with her. On her shoulder blades are a set of metal plates extending out like small wings. They glow blue now that she’s awake. These will allow her to fly through the sky or propel herself through water. The wires on her spine swish back and forth. With these she can sense something's presence and what it is from fifteen miles away.

Your name is Gwen, I say.

To ease her, I smile, hoping it makes her trust me. She touches my face softly. It’s gentle but electrifying.

What’s your name? she asks.

My name is Bellamy.

I put my hand over hers. She is real. I made her. It worked. I look over my shoulder and see my colleagues cover their mouths with shock.

Where am I? she asks.

I help her stand up out of the tank. She stands at 5’6" and weighs one-hundred and twenty pounds. Her hair is dripping wet, and she leaves a puddle on the sterile lab floor. She holds onto me and scans the room. The wires on her back move like snakes trying to take everything in.

Mount Ontake. We are in Japan. This is my father’s laboratory, I tell her.

The device on her head glows blue in the middle. Her eyes move over everyone’s faces. They all stare at her in awe. Not only is she an amazing scientific achievement, but she is gorgeous. Her skin is fair but tough. The fluid she was grown in has given her a thin exoskeleton and fortified her bones. She is virtually indestructible. The Ex Machina is designed to withstand the pressure of the bottom of the sea and space. She can go anywhere.

What am I doing here? she asks. Her gold eyes look into mine and I see the clockwork pieces mesh together with her humanity.

You’re here to save the world, I say.

***

The day the Mantodea arrived, I was playing baseball. My team was losing, but I knew I could win the game for us. It was my favorite thing to do. I was just a kid, but I could hit that ball as far as any adult could. The sky was blue and bright. Not a cloud in sight. I was up to bat. The pitcher hated me. I knew he was going to throw me a curve ball, but I was ready for it.

I hit it with no problem. His face turned red and his eyebrows looked like they were going to touch each other. I laughed like a madman as I ran. My dad wasn’t at the game because he was working, but my mom was there. She was always there. I saw her stand up and clap. She kept chanting my name. Bellamy! Bellamy!

As I slid into home, I cheered myself. I pumped my fist in the air with triumph. The dirt covered my face with glory. It wasn’t until I opened my eyes I realized the sky had turned dark. Everyone was looking up, but I scanned the crowd. Their tense faces. Horrified expressions. Women covered their mouths and men took off their sunglasses.

My eyes turned to the dark clouds forming above. The maelstrom caused harsh winds and blew my baseball cap off my head. The kid next to me started crying. I was frozen, unable to comprehend what was happening. People looked to the sky, but I looked to them, searching for an answer.

The aliens were quiet at first. They didn’t make a sound. Then there was the loudest song of trumpets I’ve ever heard. I had to cover my ears. All the other kids and I laid on the ground with our faces to the grass and our palms on our ears, attempting to drown out the sound. Many years later, it was described as God’s Song.

Parents and siblings ran to each other. My mom picked me up off the ground, but my ears hurt. She didn’t let me whine. We ran to the lab where my dad worked. His company was prepared with an emergency shelter in the basement. My father was called a lunatic, crazy, enigmatic. Now everyone feels guilty for shaming him. He was right about so many things.

He believed we would one day, not any day we would see he believed, be invaded. Not necessarily by extraterrestrial beings, but by other countries. The armies he predicted would still be human. His complex scientific advancements, strange personality, and odd behavior made him an outcast in the field. My father was a weird genius, but a genius nonetheless.

Nyx had already died at this point. My father was in his deep depression back then. We hid in the emergency shelter for six weeks before relocating to the lab in Mount Ontake, where I am now. After the initial invasion, the Mantodea spread out and weren’t as clustered. My father’s wealth allowed us militarized travel.

Two years later, Gwen was created. I was fourteen. My father was so excited to show her to me. She was small. Only twenty-four weeks old. This fetus was donated from Norway. Nyx was from China. My father was banned from certain countries for his practices. While the world used his creations offering them luxury, they scoffed at his personal integrity, and the integrity of anyone who would allow such a thing to happen to an innocent child.

It wasn’t like that. I remember the way my dad touched the tank she was in. He loved her. Every day he read to her. He would play music for her. I often found him staring at her with his hand pressed up against the glass. My father might have been crazy, but Gwen wasn’t just a project to him. He cared about her. Sometimes I think he cared more about her than me.

My father died three years ago. I’m sad he didn’t get to see her birth. I know he would have been beyond himself. She is fantastic. In order to make her less daunting, we’ve fitted her with a strapless white dress. It hugs her waist and hits her knees. The metal plates sit above the back where the zipper is.

Gwen doesn’t need shoes, but we gave her matching white flats. The fluorescent lights glare off her platinum blond hair. It’s so pale it's almost white. Her skin is fair and has a slight sheen to it from the barely noticeable exoskeleton. The wires hang down her back and peek out from under her dress like a tail. She never stops swishing them about. The Ex Machina is always on alert. We are playing chess. She will beat me every time, but I want to offer her stimulation and company.

How are you doing today, Gwen? I ask.

I’m okay, she says and moves her knight.

Just okay?

Is that not an appropriate answer? she asks as I move my bishop.

No, it is. Gwen and I continue to play and she wins. I pick up the pieces and rearrange them back on the board. Is there something you want? I ask as we start the next game.

Yes, she says.

Her tone is flat. Gwen’s eyes flicker gold beneath the hazel. The device has grown with her all her life. It has connected the synapses in her brain with metallic thread. This gives her an intellectual advantage but dulls the emotional part of her brain. The thread has fused with her veins and lungs, enhancing their strength.

Can you tell me?

I want to go outside, she says.

I sense she is bored.

We can do that tomorrow if you’d like, I say and stand up. Sitting next to her, I admire my creation. Her face is youthful, but the eyes hold decades of information. The device appears as a decorative accessory. Gwen’s hair is hanging off the chair and touching the ground. I pick it up. Your hair is very long. I can have someone cut it for you, I say. Gwen snatches her hair out of my hands and holds it defensively.

No, she says sternly. This makes me happy. I shouldn’t, but I let out a small laugh. Why are you laughing at me? she asks.

It’s hard to explain. I’m not laughing at you. I’m just happy to see you feel so strongly about your hair.

Gwen’s reaction shows me she is developing her own personality. Her own desires. My father made Gwen to defeat the Mantodea, but I still want her to be happy. She might be partially robotic, but underneath the exoskeleton and metallic threads she has a human heart.

Do I have to cut it? she asks in a sad voice.

Gwen is cradling her hair the way a child would hold a toy. I put my hand on hers.

No, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I like your hair. I thought maybe it was bothersome to you because it’s so long.

I want to keep it, she whispers.

Can you tell me why? I am interested to hear what Gwen has to say.

Because it’s mine.

CHAPTER TWO

DEITY

MY NAME IS Bellamy Krim. I’m thirty-four years old, but I look like I’m twenty-five. No one takes me seriously. I used to wear baseball tees and cuffed jeans. Now I wear a lab coat and slacks. I’m 6’0", one-hundred and seventy pounds. My hair is sandy brown like my mom’s. I have misty gray eyes like my dad. All three of us have oval faces and chins that stick out. I don’t have any siblings.

This may be the greatest year of my life. I was able to complete my father’s dream. The Ex Machina continues to thrive. We let Gwen roam around the laboratory as she pleases. I don’t wish to make the same mistake my father did.

The entire team is frightened of her. She has done nothing harmful or aggressive, but we all know her capabilities. She could fry us all. The metal jacks at the end of the wires in her back are not just sensors. She can draw power from the atmospheric electricity and use it as a weapon. If she chose to, she could plug into our system and turn us all to dust. I have faith she would never harbor such feelings towards me. Towards us.

Gwen looks like a little goddess as she wanders the halls. Her hair sways above the back of her knees. She appears completely human until she turns her head and the floral device is visible again. The wires peek out from her dress and hover above the ground. They rattle like snakes, waiting, anticipating.

I grew up playing baseball, but my dad wanted me to be a scientist. He let me be myself. I think he was quietly glad when the Mantodea came. It gave him a reason to work harder. To build it faster. Better. I spent all my free time with my dad and the baby Ex Machina. He showed me everything he knew. I’m glad he wasn’t just a science nerd but also an excellent teacher. My mom read to me every morning and every night we would go over history and math. She died when I was nineteen. My father could take a human fetus and make a god, but there was no cure for the type of cancer she had.

My youth was an interesting time. I was a child when I first met Gwen, but in a way I feel fatherly towards her. The device took up a quarter of her head back then. She has grown into it. The metal plates in her back barely stuck out an inch. I watched her grow. We can do all sorts of things with science, but for this to work right, we had to let her mature naturally.

Twenty years I have waited to meet her. Her mind isn’t fully developed, but my father’s theory was to let her out before age twenty-five so additional synapses could grow in her brain outside the artificial womb. The new experiences from the outside world will greatly affect the way she reacts the day she comes face to face with a Mantodea.

Gwen’s room was all white, but we let her pick out certain items to personalize it. She picked the grey blanket over the dark blue one. When we offered her an assortment of books, she chose a children’s story. It’s about a toy rabbit who wants to be real. This intrigued me. I wrote it down in my notes.

My colleague Hotaka gave her a sketchbook and pen. He asked if she would like to draw something. Gwen was able to draw a portrait of me with accuracy. Hotaka asked her why she drew me. She said I was the first person she ever saw, the first voice she heard. The hand she felt when she reached out was mine.

I am touched that Gwen is already showing an emotional connection. She hasn’t smiled yet. I try to get her to, but she hasn’t developed a sense of humor or she simply doesn't find me funny. Either way, it’s great to know she thinks about me, not only analytically. The Ex Machina sees in ones and zeros, but also through the lens of an ordinary human. The heart may have metallic threads in it, but it’s still a heart. We didn’t alter that part of her.

Are you ready, Gwen? I ask. She stands beside me with a blank gaze.

Yes, she says.

I open the steel door. We can’t go out for long, but I want to make this special for her. She stands at the threshold, seeming unsure. I take her hand.

It’s okay.

We step out onto the grass. It squishes, soggy from the rain. It smells fresh and aquatic. The green and woody notes of the forest are refreshing. All I’ve been exposed to is metal, plastic, and cleaning products, making everything smell sterile. The cedars stand tall. There are daisies, dandelions, and ferns. A bird up in the elms calls to us. Gwen looks at it with curiosity.

The crater lake is navy blue with green around the edges. It’s been a while since I stepped outside. It’s shades of jade, cerulean, and gold. An agreeable change of pace from all the white and chrome I see. Gwen kneels down and cups her hands around something in one of the flowers. It’s a ladybug. What do you think? I ask her.

Gwen holds the red and black bug with care. She scans the forest and looks back at her little friend. She turns to me.

It’s beautiful, she says.

***

When I was sixteen, I found out my mom was dying. She was sick all the time. The cancer had spread into every vital organ. There was no way to remove it without killing her. Even though my father was creating something to save humanity, he couldn’t save his wife. It killed him.

I was depressed back then. A sad teenager with no siblings, no friends, only the people who worked for my dad and my dying mom. I’ve become friends with my colleagues, but I don’t know if we would have been friends outside of the circumstances. Hotaka and I bond the most. He has short black hair and brown eyes hidden by the glare of his glasses. We talk about our favorite songs and the way music makes us feel.

My team is made up mostly of men, but there are two women. Yui is our youngest scientist at age twenty-four. She has a pixie cut and dark eyes like Hotaka. Although she is the baby of the family, she is the most serious. I don’t think she has ever considered having fun. She is all about the discovery, the how, and the why.

Shira is the same age as me. Her demeanor is serious, but not as serious as Yui’s. Everyone I work with is Japanese. My family is from Boston, where my dad's headquarters was. This laboratory here in the mountain was for just in case. Good thing he planned for everything. The lab is spacious: 180,000 square feet. We have an indoor garden with limited crops. Most of our calories and vitamins are in powder form. It’s nutritious but unsatisfying.

There is the room where Gwen was born and two other rooms holding artificial wombs made of plastic, chrome, and glass. In the future, we hope to be in the process of creating several Ex Machina at once. It has fluorescent lights on the ceilings and blank walls, but it’s welcoming. Everyone is professional but casual. We’ve been in here so long it feels like home. Equipped with dozens of bedrooms with private bathrooms to accommodate our team. There are nine of us, including Gwen.

I’m watching the women have tea. Yui and Shira are making polite conversation with Gwen. She doesn’t seem interested, though. I want her to smile. She hasn’t yet. The ladybug interested her. A bird had her attention for a moment. Gwen seemed like she enjoyed her experience outside. She said it was beautiful. Yet she didn’t smile.

Shira attempts to be sisterly and braids Gwen’s hair. The Ex Machina accepts Shira touching it. She lets her play with her precious hair. This is a pleasant surprise. I thought Gwen would snatch it away from her the way she did to me. But she doesn’t. She stares into her teacup and lets Shira braid her virgin hair. It’s never been cut. Maybe this is why she is so attached to it. It’s always been with her.

Yui says something that interests Gwen because she stops looking at her green tea with a thousand-yard stare. She stares intently at the young scientist. I wonder what she said to make Gwen look at her like this. I walk towards the women casually, but I’m nervous.

Hello. How is everyone? I ask and scan their faces.

Shira stops braiding Gwen’s hair.

Doing well. Thank you, Bellamy. says Shira.

Good. I better get back to work, though, says Yui as she puts her teacup down. She stands up and hurries past me. Her lab coat is loose on her small frame. She wears high waisted skirts and silky blouses. A formal girl. I sit down and examine Shira’s face. Then Gwen’s. Shira looks embarrassed or like she wants to hide. Gwen’s flat affect keeps me locked out.

What were you talking about? I ask and lean back.

People, life, art… Shira says each word with intention.

Death, says Gwen. Shira sits up straight at the word. She pulls her lab coat tighter over her grey sweater dress like she is cold.

What did Yui say about death? I ask.

That I most likely will never die, says Gwen.

Yui is correct. Gwen isn’t immortal, but she is close. She won’t die from the pressure of space or the sea. Penetrating her skin is nearly impossible. Her physical capabilities, such as high speed and immense strength, will keep her safe. So will the exoskeleton. The device will enhance her longevity. Her telomeres won't fray.

Killing Gwen would require a massive amount of electrical energy. Essentially, something would need to galvanize her. A source of catastrophic static to interrupt Gwen's core system. I can’t think of anything on earth with that kind of power besides herself. In theory, Gwen could live forever.

If she does die, all her experiences will be uploaded onto the device. It will act as a black box. She is constantly recording and downloading information. I hope Gwen never dies, but if she does, she could continue to live on in another. Her body would be different, but Gwen could come back as an improved Ex Machina from her previous life.

That’s true. You’re quite strong. You don’t have to worry about dying, I assure her.

Gwen grips her teacup tighter.

But what about you? she asks. Shira puts her hands on Gwen’s shoulders. Gwen doesn’t respond, but I hope she feels cared about.

I won’t die for a long time, I say.

But you will one day, says Gwen.

Yes. That’s true, I admit.

I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. Gwen won’t look at me. I keep staring at her, hoping for her to reciprocate eye contact.

I should help Yui, says Shira as she gets up to leave.

She is uncomfortable. I am, too. Gwen is intelligent beyond humanity’s wildest dreams but has childlike emotions–they are difficult for her to comprehend. I sit next to Gwen. She might not want me to, but I do.

Don’t worry. We’ll have lots of time together, I say. Gwen reaches for my arm. She squeezes, but not hard.

No matter what, no matter who I love, I will always be alone. Everyone I know will die and I will remain alive. What is the point of having a heart if I am to feel things like this? she asks.

The Ex Machina’s eyes haven’t left the amber water of her teacup. I run my hand through my disheveled hair and take a deep breath.

The hurt that you feel teaches you things.

It’s corny, but it’s true.

Pain is like a teacher. There is a lesson in the suffering. Is that what you are trying to tell me, Bellamy? asks Gwen.

She looks at me with eyes flickering between hazel and luminescent gold.

Yes. That’s right, Gwen.

The Ex Machina lets me go and puts down her teacup. She gets up without saying goodbye and goes into her room. I think about keeping her company, but she closes the door and shuts me out.

CHAPTER THREE

COGNIZANT

AFTER MY MOM died, my father worked tirelessly. He barely ate or slept. Me and a few of his colleagues had to convince him to take breaks. He said he couldn’t stand leaving her alone. I made him rest and took over keeping Gwen company.