The Life of George. Story of a Synthetic Human

By Sergi Castillo Lapeira

"George's Life" is set temporally in the Catalonia of the year 2121, and in an era in which science and technology have evolved at an accelerated pace, to the point that trips to the Moon and Mars have become commonplace, as well as the artificial manufacture of living beings, including synthetic humans.

George is one of these synthetic humans, who emerged three years ago from the Human Biofactory. Despite his young age, his appearance is that of a young man of about 25 years old. With George we will learn to see human reality from another perspective, that of a living being that looks very much like us, but is not, strictly speaking, a human.

George is, then, a mirror in which to look at ourselves, to reflect our greatness and miseries, what makes us valuable and at the same time evil, what we are and what we can become, sometimes exposed with a sense of humor, sometimes with the rawness that life forces us to accept.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Edicions Etma
• Release date: Apr 16, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224058983

Book preview

Prologue

Hello , my name is George.

I am a living synthetic organism.

We are in the year 2121.

It has been 35 years since humans were able to create synthetic life for the first time.

Initially, synthetic life was directed to the creation of viruses and bacteria destined to clean the oceans, polluted by the uncontrolled action of the human being.

But, as always happens wherever humans act, ambition and curiosity lead them to create increasingly complex forms of synthetic life. Thus, first appeared synthetic fish, suitable for consumption in poor countries, synthetic pets, synthetic cows and pigs, and finally synthetic humans.

The first synthetic humans dedicated themselves to supplying the armies, and to work in the industrial bases of the Moon, Mars and Titan. Then the industry expanded its business by creating synthetic assistants for home, for sex, and for a lot of menial jobs that natural humans did not want to perform: garbage collectors, policemen, doctors, lawyers , teachers, etc.

I am one of those synthetic humans.

I measure 1.80 cm and weigh 75 kg.

My organism is like a synthetic copy of a natural human being. This means I can eat solid food and drink liquids. In case I do, I have a waste disposal system identical to that of human beings. If I choose not to, I can feed myself with the solar energy captured by my skin.

Since my creators are against programmed obsolescence, I can live as long as my masters wish. I am also endowed with genitalia, which in my case are male. However, I am not designed to have sex. I still don't know if this is good or bad.

1. The Fernández

Two years ago today I started working at the Fernández home.

Who are the Fernández? A middle-class family that lives on the outskirts of Mataró. Jordi and Manel are married, and have two children they created through hybrid genetic engineering, Víctor and Clara.

Jordi is a computer engineer, and has specialized in AI. Manel is a cook and works in his own restaurant, Pantagruel , located in the center of the city. It was at this restaurant that they met and quickly connected.

What is hybrid genetic engineering?

It's a bit boring to explain, but to summarize it very much, it's about creating genetically perfect human beings (that is, without any genetic abnormality that could predispose them to suffer from any disease in the future), which are mixed genes from other biological species that strengthen them in a multitude of areas, such as physical strength, resistance to exhaustion, intelligence to survive in adverse situations, extra-sensory perception, and a long et cetera.

That's why I wasn't surprised when I saw Victor, who is 8, reading a copy of Joyce's Ulysses, or Clara, who is 10, parachuting from the top of Mount Everest.

And what am I doing at the Fernández house? Well, I think it can be easily deduced: I am the boy for everything in the family. I cook, clean, do home automation maintenance, take the children to school , go shopping, tidy the house, help with the rascal's homework, tell them a bedtime story... and, lately, more and more to act as a psychologist, because all members of the family suffer from mental disorders. Jordi suffers from stress and anxiety. Manel has obsessive compulsive disorder. Clara has a certain level of Asperger's , and Víctor is hyperactive with attention deficit.

The problem is, I wasn't designed to be a psychologist, and I have to learn as I go. Eventually I might have to go to the psychologist too, although there are no psychologists for synthetic humans at the moment.

This is the great irony of today's genetically enhanced human beings: they all have to go to the psychologist. It seems that no genetic modification has yet been found to prevent this. And it's not because it hasn't been tried.

The few free hours I have left I spend reading all the scientific articles I can. This is how I found out about this fact. Thousands of specialists from all over the world are trying to find the genetic solution that would prevent the human species from having to go to psychological therapy. After all, they thought, everything we are is determined by our genetic inheritance. Therefore, sooner or later it had to be possible to find the anomaly that caused the diverse variety of mental disorders that invariably afflict the human species.

But it was in vain. In the end, they gave up, and opted for the most pragmatic solution: to institute the figure of the psychologist as a general practitioner, since physiological illnesses have long since disappeared.

It is worth saying that we synthetic humans are not affected by any mental disorders. But we don't know why. I don't know if that's good or bad either. Does the fact that we do not (for now) have mental disorders work in our favor, or against us? Does it make us more human, or less?

The fact is that I have become an essential element for the Fernández family, one more member of the family, although I don't quite know what that means. A sense of belonging is not part of my genetic programming. My builders must have thought that this feeling, like all others, would arise spontaneously. But at the moment I haven't noticed it. Actually, I'm not sure what feelings are. All I can say is that I feel a very strong inclination to fulfill my obligations. I don't feel happy in fulfilling them, because I don't know what it is to feel happy, but I do feel impelled by a mysterious force to fulfill them.

2. The breakfast

-C lara, don't stick your finger in your nose, especially when we're having breakfast!

- Why can't I do it? Am I hurting someone?

-You hurt yourself! Except it's disgusting!!

- Why do I hurt myself? I don't notice that it does me any harm. And this about disgust is very relative. Besides, you're synthetic, George, you don't know what feelings are, let alone disgust.

-Okay, I don't know what a person feels when they experience disgust. But you forget my programming. I can't help but tell you. I am not free, in that sense.

-In this sense? And in none!

This last taxing statement from Clara left me perplexed and meditative, to the point where I forgot about the discussion I was having. What was freedom? Why did humans value it so much? Wasn't it so much better to have every hour and second of every day fully scheduled? So you didn't have to worry about anything! All planned and planned!

- George, George!! Wake up!!!

- yes, yes... Who am I? Oh yes, I'm George and I'm scolding you, Clara.

- I know you are scolding me, but you are out !

- What does out mean ? I haven't left here!

- You don't understand! Out is to be breaded, blank, in limbo, disconnected - added Víctor.

- Okay, but lately I've started asking myself a lot of things, without finding satisfactory solutions. Then I feel as if I leave the situation I was in, to enter a new reality made only of ideas, conceptual relationships and words.

- For instance,  if you are free?

- Exactly! I wouldn't have even considered this question before. But since I have started living with you, I am reaching new perspectives that fill my mind with doubts.

- Really? I thought synthetic humans were manufactured without question.

- I thought so too! But the reality does not agree with what was predicted. This is another of the ideas I was referring to. How can this happen? I feel upset.

-This happens to you because you are a synthetic human. If you were natural, like us, you wouldn't find it so unsettling and disturbing. Let time pass and you will find it completely normal.

- And you will realize that you are more and more like us, natural humans - answered Victor.

-Víctor, don't put so much jam on the toast! Maybe you're right, Clara. But, in any case, I think I need time to process so many new developments.

While Victor was warning, the jam was falling on the table. It was raspberry, honeyed and intensely red. Suddenly, I felt a new internal impulse, which I could not control, and which compelled me to reach out, open my index finger, and plunge it into the pile of jam that had accumulated. Then, I put it in my mouth, to start enjoying the intense flavor and aroma of that exquisite food. Immediately, a cluster of sensations awoke in my perceptive consciousness, causing a fairly obvious change in expression.

The children looked at me dumbfounded. I think they didn't expect it. They couldn't believe what was happening.

George, you have just broken a basic and elementary rule of civilized table captaincy!! How could it happen? - Clara suddenly burst out.

- I don't know, I don't know how it could have happened. I have had unplanned behavior. I feel a little confused, but at the same time I experience a sense of undeniable pleasure, which prompts me to believe that this scene may be repeated in the future, despite the fact that I am aware that it is not right.

- I think you will repeat - said Víctor. The taste of this jam is incredible. At least for me.

- Well, I don't think it’s that good - said Clara. I would say that it is, simply, a jam like any other.

- As it is the first time I taste this food, it seemed sublime to me - I affirmed. By the way, have you ever wondered why all three of us have different opinions on the same jam?

- Well, I don't know for sure, said Clara. It all depends on the qualias.

-And what are qualia? - Victor asked.

-From what I have read, they are the sensory experiences we experience when we receive any stimulus, external or internal, that affects us, such as the soft touch of a feather, colors, a stomach ache, a pleasant melody, etc. Because they are personal and subjective, we have no way of knowing if we experience them in the same way. However, the example of the jam allows us to deduce that, most likely, it is not.

Clara remained very calm after having done this dissertation, soaking another piece of toast with butter, while Víctor and I watched her without disguising our astonishment.

3. A bumpy excursion

The next day Víctor went on a trip to Olot, to see the volcanoes, with the school. The science teacher had been telling them about volcanoes for days, and Víctor was most excited. In addition, there was a girl in the class that he liked, and he had already made his calculations in order to take advantage of the coincidence: he would try to sit next to her during the bus ride, so that he could hook up with his companion, who by the way is called Ariadna.

But things didn't go as he wanted. Just getting on the bus, Victor saw that Ariadne was already sitting next to Marius, the most popular boy in the class. To top it off, the lunchbox fell out of his backpack and opened in the middle of the corridor, causing all the food I had prepared for him to be scattered everywhere, causing a riot from all his classmates . Needless to say, Victor was ridiculed for his clumsiness, so he didn't dare to open his mouth during the entire excursion.

What pained him the most was to see the faces of Ariadne and Marius, because they were those of someone who thinks he is superior and enjoys making fun of the misfortunes of others. Or at least that was his perception of the wretched scene.

When he returned home in the evening, he locked himself in his room with a loud knock on the door. His parents looked at me, with a face of circumstances, but wordlessly telling me to go see what was happening to Víctor.

- Knock knock , Victor, I'm George, can I come in? Please open the door...

- I don't want to talk to anyone, go away!!

- Come on Victor, let me in. We'll chat a little. You know you can trust me...

After a few minutes the door to the room slowly opened. Inside was an 8-year-old boy who had experienced his first serious emotional trauma. And now my job was to make him see that he would get over it. Although I wasn't convinced I was going to get away with it.

-Okay, you've been humiliated by your own colleagues. This hurts. For sure. You have the right to cry a little. Everyone has the right to cry a little!! Even me, even if I'm not designed to do that.

- You are very lucky, then. Crying makes me feel weak and sad.

- It's normal that you feel it. But you're wrong when you say I'm lucky. I've never had that experience, and I don't know if I ever will. I don't think that's being lucky.

-But you save yourself the pain and suffering. I had a really bad time!!

-Certainly. I don't know this negative feeling either. However, don't you think it might have some meaning? Maybe the fact of having suffered makes you stronger to face difficult situations in the future.

-Maybe you're right, but now I feel helpless, and at the same time angry.

-Why do you feel angry?

-For not having been able to prevent it.

- So you are angry with yourself?

-I suppose

-And you're not against your colleagues?

-Also, they have shown me that they are not my friends. A friend would not have acted like that!!

-So what do you plan to do?

- I don't know what I can do.

-Why don't you talk to them? Also, Ariadna is the girl you like.

- I find myself unable to do it. They will laugh at me again!!

-You just made an assumption.

-True, but don't you think it's quite likely that it will be fulfilled?

-You know what I think about assumptions...

-That should not be done?

-Exactly. Learn to distinguish between facts and assumptions. That they laughed at you, is a fact. That they will do the same tomorrow is an assumption. It may or may not be fulfilled.

- But I don't know how I should act from now on.

-I think you should continue as usual, as if nothing had happened. If they see that it does not affect you, or even that you laugh at yourself, they will stop giving importance to it.

And while I kept giving advice that I made up as I went along, Víctor fell asleep. It had been a very long day. Surely tomorrow, he would see everything with different eyes.

4. Synthetic love

The next day it was time to go to the supermarket to do the shopping for the week. The kids always wanted to come, hoping that way I would buy them some treats. Both Jordi and Manel warned me, however, not to pay attention to them. You had to be strict with healthy eating habits. Despite the genetic improvements that Víctor and Clara had been born with, there are exogenous factors that can always alter the body's biochemistry, they said. Both were very demanding regarding this aspect, and for me this caused great internal tension, because the father's instructions always ran again the synthetic impression that characterizes me, which always leads me to express tolerant, even condescending attitudes . And since parents knew this impression, they were even more inflexible towards me.

Be that as it may, the truth is that they always had a gift, I couldn't resist! It could be some candies filled with chocolate, or some chewing gum with the taste of mango and lemon, or a macadamia ice cream with truffle... Just seeing their faces of satisfaction with which they ate it was enough to deal with the scoldings that would surely fall upon us.

Suddenly, I saw Victor's face turn red like a spring currant.

- What's wrong with you, Victor? Have you got any allergies?

- No, no , nothing is wrong with me!

- I think so, said Clara. It matched an image I saw down the hall.

Victor's face reddened even more.

I looked to the bottom, and there I saw a blonde girl of about 8 years old, dressed in fuchsia shorts, Adidas sports shoes, a short white blouse that showed her navel, and a stylish cap baseball with the New York emblem embroidered right on the front. The girl in question was none other than Ariadne. Next to her was a young girl, apparently about 25 years old, tall and well-proportioned, with a tender and sweet look at the same time, and an