Becoming Human, page 15
As I thought about this I remembered that some real humans are born ugly, or missing some features, some limbs, and it’s something they learn to live with, sometimes happily. I remembered that the “elephant man” was a case in point. He knew he was grotesque, but when people began to speak to him in a respectful way, discuss important issues with him, treat him as if he were human, he blossomed into someone so witty and erudite that he became famous, a person everyone wanted to meet. Perhaps even he forgot at times that he was ugly. He had transcended his ugliness. Maybe I’m another elephant man. Maybe I’ll end up on Sixty Minutes . . . .
On the other hand, he finally committed suicide.
All right, I was ugly. So what? I was born that way and there wasn’t much I could do about it except to lobby for features of my own, or at least those of a dummy to front for me. After all, without eyes, nose, mouth, skin, and all the rest, what does any human look like? It’s a pretty revolting thing to contemplate. I gazed at David, imagining him to be flesh and bone but without discernable features. I had to laugh. On hearing this, everyone in the lab joined in with another chuckle or two. I was beginning to feel better. Not quite the human I had considered myself to be, but it could be worse. I could have been a stupid computer.
The crew began to interact again in a normal way, chatting and carrying on as usual. That made me feel better still.
Late that afternoon, Henry strode in. He came right up to me and asked how I was feeling. He didn’t seem to notice how ugly I was.
“It was hard at first,” I confessed.
“I thought it would be,” he said. “That’s why I was hesitant to give you a mirror. But you were right about one thing: maybe it was good to get it over with. You’re not finished, you know, Oscar. Remember that the way you look now isn’t the way you’ll end up. We’re going to make you one handsome dude before we’re finished.”
One handsome dude. That was certainly what I wanted to be, and the way I had thought of myself prior to this day. “Thank you, Henry. I’ll try to be more patient from now on.”
“Good for you. And we’ll try to speed things up a bit. One question: what would you rather have first: a face or an arm or—”
“A penis.”
He laughed even before I had finished the word. “I thought as much. Well, that might not do much for your appearance, especially if it’s in back, but—”
“I’d rather it be in front.”
He thought for a moment. “We’ll see.” After that he ambled around the lab conferring with the crew, sometimes in a low voice, presumably planning the next steps in my development. I remembered what I looked like, and another wave of disgust swirled into the momentary elation. Even if I became the handsomest dude in the world some day, I was still ugly now.
Robyn stayed until everyone else had gone, even David. Before she left she came up to me. “I just wanted you to know that I don’t think you’re ugly, Oscar, even if you do. I think you are beautiful. It’s what’s inside that counts for me.” She reached out and stroked my front as she had done before. If I had a heart, it would have been beating hard.
“I will be better, Robyn. Henry promised me I would be a handsome dude some day.”
She nodded and smiled sweetly. “I can’t wait for that. Good night, Oscar,” she whispered as she powered me down. Perhaps she was just trying to make me feel better. Maybe she was even sincere. Whatever it was, it worked wonders.
Interjection
From the beginning we were surprised by the rapidity of Oscar’s development, from a mass of jumbled wires to something resembling a thinking brain, if not quite a human mind. But the most recent developments were even more staggering. Although none of us had read his own account of his experiences during this period (he hadn’t recorded them yet), it was obvious to everyone in the laboratory that his progress toward a full-blown human mentality was accelerating. During that two-week time frame, for example, he had begun, for the first time, to become “himself.” By that I mean that he was quickly becoming less concerned with doing what he supposed was the “right” thing to do, and more able to express his own developing personality, much as a normal maturing human being could. Indeed, as do most humans, he was beginning to show both good and bad traits, and acting on each without undue analysis or deliberation.
Perhaps the strongest evidence for all this was his utter abhorrence of what he looked like. Prior to that he hadn’t even thought much, if at all, about his appearance. Like babies and young children, he didn’t think of himself in terms of a particular form, but merely as the entity who was doing the observing, the interacting, the being. There comes a time, however, when they begin to be concerned with their looks, and Oscar had finally reached this point himself. Most children, when they do begin to take an interest in such things, don’t find themselves to be particularly attractive or unattractive (unless other people point this out to them), but accept themselves for who they are.
In this regard, Oscar was not normal. In the first place, he looked nothing like a human being of any kind. Thus, since he had thought of himself all along as being, or approaching, human, he had presumably also pictured himself to be at least humanoid in shape or form as well. So it was devastating to him to find that he was not at all human in that sense. This precipitated an immediate, if temporary, state of depression in him, as it probably would in anyone. Thanks to the kindness of our research assistant Robyn Martinelli, however, he quickly recovered his upbeat personality, and was determined to deal with his “misfortune” much as any handicapped human being might.
His rapid development at this stage might also have had something to do with the addition of pain sensors to his growing catalog of experience. The sensation of pain—the knowledge of what it feels like and, perhaps more significantly, the anticipation of it—is an important part of the process of becoming human. Can anyone be truly human without this sense? Indeed, Oscar’s experience with it leads us to believe that it may be a bigger part of what it means to be human than we had expected. And even though the sensors were turned off most of the time, the mere realization that pain could be forthcoming surely colored his approach and reactions toward everything else, just as it does for any human.
Whatever the reasons for his “flowering,” it is also true that the results were a normal mixture of good and bad. His newly-discovered boldness, his early development of a sense of humor, his first lie—all are part of the process of becoming human. In short, we could only wonder what would happen when he became even more fully developed. Of special significance here was his beginning to dream. Is this hardwired into the developing human mentality? This was one of the questions we hoped we would be able to answer in due course.
However, there were complications that Oscar was only vaguely aware of, but which occupied more and more of my own efforts as time went on (it was this matter that we were discussing in our laboratory conferences, sometimes, rather than how to provide him with a penis or a handsome façade). The laboratory was no longer big enough to hold him. When we appealed Frank Wilkes’s decision directly to the NIMH, we were informed that it was an “internal matter” that had to be resolved within the university. We knew that, of course, but were hoping for an extension of the grant period so we could resolve the problem without undue pressure. This turned out to be wishful thinking on our parts. Implicit in this rebuff was the warning that we had better get our act together if we wished to get a renewal application approved for funding. That a grant is awarded to an institution as well as an individual investigator. Easy for them to say: the NIMH didn’t have to concern itself with Oscar’s fate if the project came to an abrupt halt.
President Sherman was of little more help. Although he was quite impressed with Oscar’s capabilities, and sympathetic to our plight, the politics of running a university medical school has long been a convoluted process. Medical school deans have a certain amount of clout in the way their domains are run, and our university was no exception. The president could twist arms, cajole, and even beg, but how the available space is used is up to the dean. And our dean was unbending in this regard.
That left two possibilities: a retirement or voluntary step-down by another faculty member, possibly one of the older people with few students and grants, leaving his or her laboratory available; or pulling up stakes completely and moving to a more hospitable environment at another university. The latter would mean dismantling Oscar and putting him back together, which theoretically should be no more of a problem than doing brain surgery on a healthy patient, though there is always a small risk that something could go wrong. The first option would be the better solution by far, involving only the removal a couple of walls, perhaps, and simply taking him for a ride down the corridor. I fervently hoped we could resolve the space issue before we were forced to take him apart and put him back together again.
In the meantime we decided to keep plugging away. While we waited for this ridiculous situation to be resolved, we decided that we would try to give Oscar the sense of touch, rather than taste. However difficult this might prove to be, however, we realized that it could become another quantum leap in his development, and perhaps force the NIMH or the university to take action. With four major senses, Oscar would be almost as human as we could make him. After that, if he continued to develop at the rapid rate he had shown to this point, who knew what he might become?
30
David told me there was going to be a party this afternoon. I assumed it was an annual affair having to do with the upcoming holiday. I had never been to a party. “Who’s coming?” I asked him.
“Everyone. The whole crew and their families, as well as some of the Security and maintenance people. It’s in your honor. Normally we’d have it outside, but—well—if we did, you wouldn’t be able to attend.”
“Me? I haven’t done anything.”
“You’ve done plenty, everything we’ve asked you to do and more. We wanted to thank you for all you’ve accomplished in the past three years.”
“Oh my God!” I exclaimed. “What will I wear?”
I thought he would laugh, but maybe he was used to my humor or simply enjoyed the repartee internally. That in itself was a form of flattery. “Shall we drape you in a lab coat? Size extra extra extra large?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of a dinner jacket. With a bowtie, maybe.”
“We’ll see what we can do. And guess what?”
“Uh… my penis is ready?”
“No. Something better.”
It was my turn not to laugh.
“Do you like surprises?”
“Not if they involve pain.”
He looked me right in the eye. “You’ll like this one, Oscar, I promise.”
I was suspicious. “What is it?”
“If I told you that, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”
“Can you tell me when to expect it?”
“During the party.”
“Oh. Okay, I guess I can wait that long.”
He didn’t say anything else, just winked and went over to speak with Omar, who looked significantly at me, a hint of a smile on his face. Evidently he was in on the surprise. In any case, he headed out of my sight toward my backside. Suddenly I realized that if someone could hook me up to another camera back there, I could see what I looked like from behind, too. But did I really want to see my own buttocks?
Nothing much happened for the rest of the morning. Susumu came in to inform me that he had hired the thirtyish technician I had suggested. She would be starting to work in a few days. Otherwise everyone sat quietly at his or her desk busily reading or writing or tinkering with something. I thought about starting a conversation with someone—anyone—but they all looked so peacefully content at their work that I left them undisturbed.
Mainly, I gazed at Robyn. She was unaware of this, of course. Whenever she glanced toward me I pretended to be thinking. I wasn’t a stalker, after all, I just enjoyed watching her. She is so lovely with her shiny walnut-brown hair, who wouldn’t? Even her movements are soft and attractive. I heard her clear her throat of unwanted phlegm a couple of times, and once she unconsciously picked at her nose before looking around to see if anyone had noticed. Even that was charming. She was wearing a pink top which somehow emphasized her gorgeous boobs, as well as the familiar jeans and running shoes. I couldn’t get enough of her.
I observed the others for a while, too, but focused mainly on Robyn. Eventually, though, I remembered the upcoming surprise and wondered what it might be. A chess set, maybe? I hoped it wasn’t; I have no interest in chess. It would make me seem like a computer, which I am not. What else could it be? Probably nothing that needed arms or legs, like a football. Perhaps a new DVD. That wouldn’t be much of a surprise, though—I could already have any book or movie I requested. I had watched one last night, in fact. It was The Day the Earth Stood Still. Like almost all the science fiction movies I had seen, the Army went after the aliens, guns blazing. How stupid we humans are. If an alien civilization came to Earth, obviously they would be far more advanced than anyone here, and shooting at them could only result in disaster. I think it must be a very human trait to lash out at anything we don’t understand, try to destroy it, keep things as they are. I’ve had feelings like that, myself. When David was inflicting terrible pain to me I almost wanted to kill him. Maybe not literally, but I certainly wanted to strike him down to stop the torture. I looked at him now, and realized that he was capable of anything, from kindness to cruelty and everything in-between. The fact is, I wanted to be like him, especially since he could have Robyn any time he wanted.
At about lunchtime everyone got up and moved the desks and equipment
around to make enough space for people to stand or sit. Someone I hadn’t seen before brought in trays of food and soft drinks. Soon after that the crew’s families started to come in.
Omar’s wife and four children were first to arrive. The kids approached me timidly. Nevertheless, they all wanted to touch me, as if I were a large metallic animal. Maybe children get more information from touch than from seeing or hearing? They ranged in age from about six to twelve, with shiny black eyes and well-combed hair. Omar told them who I was and where my cameras were, but they didn’t treat me like a machine—more like a human with a strange appearance. Or as if I were trapped inside a façade, which, in fact, I was. But the oldest and perhaps brightest one, Faisl, saw something a little more subtle. He asked me whether I was afraid.
“Afraid of what?” I asked in return.
“Everything. You are trapped in your body, and have to depend on the scientists to keep you alive. As well as the electricity. What happens if it goes off—would you die?”
His father, Omar, answered the question for me: “No, son, the lab is like a hospital. There are electrical backups, including an emergency generator.” He looked directly at me as he finished the answer. “But even if the electricity went off, Oscar would not die. He would just kind of go to sleep until it came back on. In fact, we cut down his electrical input by about a third every night so he can get some rest.”
“My only concern,” I added, “is that if the electricity goes off, will anyone turn me back on again!” I laughed heartily at my own joke so that Faisl wouldn’t think I was really worried about that. Anyway, he laughed, too, showing his beautiful white teeth.
“Besides, you’re trapped in your own body, too, aren’t you?”
The boy nodded slowly. “Good point,” he admitted. “But at least my body can go places. Do you ever wish you could go somewhere else?”
“Yes, of course. All the time. I’d like to see the Pyramids, for example. And Notre Dame in Paris, The Taj Mahal.”
“I’m sorry you can’t go.”
“Don’t worry about that. When you were a baby you couldn’t go very far, either. Some day we’ll go for a walk. Deal?”
“Deal!”
“Come, let’s get some food,” said his mother, Mamoun (if I heard correctly), “and let other people visit with Oscar.” She shepherded everyone off, though she, herself, stayed behind. It took her a moment to find the words she wanted. “Thank you for what you did for Omar and me. If it had not been for you, I think we would not have been here today. I think we would have been living apart. Omar is a good man, but he is nevertheless a man.”
“I think I know what you mean. But maybe he would have thought of the solution himself by now.”
She smiled sadly. “He is also not very creative. But,” she sighed, “he is kind and gentle, and a good father. And I love him.”
“I have some good news for you.” Everyone likes good news; I could see that I had her full attention. “He loves you, too.”
Her eyes watered a little. “I think you are a good man, too.”
“Even though I am ugly?”
“You’re not ugly, Oscar. You are very beautiful.”
“Thank you. That is the nicest compliment I have ever had.”
She smiled and hurried off to join her family. She seemed happy, but I also knew that both she and Omar, and everyone else in the room, were human, and therefore unpredictable. Would she be happy a year from now?
D’Arcy’s girlfriend arrived soon afterward, and she was almost as pretty as Robyn. Her name was Rosalind. Named after the wife of a former U.S. President, I learned later. D’Arcy seemed abashed. I remembered his speech about women stealing his “freedom,” and so did he. I would love to have my freedom stolen by one such as her. “I’m pleased to meet you, Oscar,” she said. It sounded like a bubbling fountain.
