Becoming Human, page 21
Henry frowned. “Damn it, Oscar, we’ve explained that already. There won’t be any problem with that. It’s going to be a piece of cake.”
“I’m afraid I will die if you try to move me.”
“We have you mapped out to the last neuron. It should be a very simple matter to take you apart and put you back together again exactly as you are.”
“I’m afraid because no one knows where the soul comes from, and no one will help me find out. Or where anything comes from. Not thoughts or anything else. If even one neuron ends up out of place, I could be someone else. Or no one. And there are thousands of neurons to disconnect and reconnect. Anything could happen. No one knows what a mind is or how it operates. You have said that yourself. If it’s tampered with…”
“Oh. Well, I didn’t know that’s what was bothering you. But if it means anything to you, all of us in the lab are confident that we can take you apart and put you back together, soul included. If you have one, it’s somewhere in your wires.” He cleared his throat. “It’s true that you will be unconscious for a while, if that’s what we can call it. But you’ll soon be right back the way you are now.”
“Can you guarantee that?”
“I can’t give you a hundred percent guarantee, no.”
“How many percent can you guarantee?”
“Ninety-nine point nine.”
“I’m still scared.”
He softened noticeably. “Can we work with you on this? Maybe we can find some way to ease your anxiety about the transfer. I think that once you see how low the risk of anything going wrong is, you’ll feel much better about the whole thing. Consider me your psychiatrist. I want to help you with this.”
“Thank you, Henry. I’ll consider your professional advice. But it’s not a done deal yet, right?”
“Not yet, no.”
“Dr. Sherman has some other ideas. He’d like you to call him.”
He sighed. “So I’ve heard. All right, Oscar, I’ll call him when I get back to my office. I’ll let you know what happens, okay?”
“Okay.”
After Henry left, David said, “That was pathetic, Oscar. But I see where you’re coming from.”
“Thank you, David.”
“Now. Are you ready for some football?”
43
The touch experiments worked, but I didn’t care much anymore. It was pretty disappointing, anyway. It only took a couple of hours to make good contact with my sensors, and I could feel something when my skin was scraped, or when a hot wire was applied to it. I could even feel an ice cube, though everything felt about the same—a strange sensation that I didn’t have before. Susumu and the others were ecstatic. But it wasn’t like sight or hearing, or even smell. It was blah. I couldn’t understand anymore why sex was such a big deal.
Perhaps this was because I was more concerned with a more pressing and fundamental problem, and I couldn’t figure a way out of this intractable dilemma. It was like being trapped in a cave or a jail and, try as one might, not being able to think of a way to get out. It was a puzzle I couldn’t seem to solve. Was it possible that I couldn’t do it because I just didn’t have enough brainpower? Maybe I could convince the crew that I wasn’t thinking well and that I needed a few more neurons. And if they declined to do that, it’s quite possible they would be reluctant to take me apart until they figured out what was wrong with me… .
It was late in the afternoon, and David was the only one left in the lab. I called to him. “Yes, Oscar?”
“I’m feeling a bit sluggish. Maybe the touch sensors disrupted some of my other wires. Could you give me a test to see if something’s wrong with me?”
“So now you know what it’s like being sick, Oz? Sure. Let’s see if something’s wrong.” He tested my eyesight and hearing, and gave me a shot of coffee under my nostril. He asked me questions about Presidents and historical dates. I pretended that I couldn’t see or hear so well, and missed half the questions he asked me. “Well, something is certainly wrong with some of your connections. I can’t tell you what it is tonight, but I’ll tell Susumu and maybe we can get to the bottom of it tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is the day after today, right?”
He looked dismayed, but it was mixed with a hint of suspicion. Perhaps I had overdone it a bit. Yet, I could tell that he wasn’t sure. “That’s right, Ozzie.” He thought for a moment. “How do you feel in general? Like you’re dizzy or about to pass out, anything like that?”
“No, I think I’m all right. I just can’t think straight today. I don’t know why. Can you ask Omar to give me a few hundred more neurons tomorrow? I think that might fix the problem.”
“I think that can be done. But let’s talk to Susumu and Henry about it first, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Got to run, Oscar. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Big date?”
“Yes. Big.”
“Who is she?”
“A friend I’ve been seeing. We’re going to a little party.”
“Maybe I could meet her sometime?”
“Sure. I’ll bring her around one of these days.”
“Enjoy the party.”
“Thanks, buddy.”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t.” He powered me down. “Goodnight, big guy.”
I watched him go. I wished I could talk to Robyn or Ed. They wouldn’t be able to stop the wheels from turning, of course, but I knew I would feel better if I could bounce some ideas off them. They might even be able to help me carry one out. But I fell into hibernation before I could think of any.
It was the middle of the night and I was half asleep when I finally came up with something. I had been thinking about the Sixty Minutes interview—what
kinds of questions they might ask me and how I might answer them—when it occurred to me that millions of people watched that show, and what if I appealed to that audience to help me stay? Maybe there would be a flood of mail and calls demanding that the university let me remain where I am. The only problem was whether we would still be here when the interviewer showed up. I had to talk to them before it was too late.
Later, something else dawned on me. If they refuse to give me more brainpower, or if they ignore my “illness” and decide to proceed anyway, I could pretend to be even dumber, more confused. They still wouldn’t know what was wrong with me, and they would have to find out before they could take me apart. And I would never be fixed until they gave up and decided to stay.
But I knew it wouldn’t work. Nobody cares about me except—
As day was breaking outside the lab, I tried my last resort, everyone’s last resort. “Please help me, God. I want to stay as I am.”
44
Henry came in early the next morning. I couldn’t tell whether he was angry or concerned, or perhaps both. The first thing he said was that Dr. Sherman had done everything he could do. “He’s come up with a plan to move us to another wing of the building. That might work out, but we’re waiting to hear about the details. But it might be six months or a year before that could happen. In any case, that wouldn’t solve your problem, Oscar—we would still have to dismantle you. Otherwise there would be too many walls to take out, and I don’t think there’s anything big enough to cart you down the corridors anyway.” That was the anger part of his current disposition, which actually seemed more like disgust than anger. I could tell he was becoming fed up with the whole mess here, and really wanted to move on, to get away to a place where we were more appreciated.
Then the concern part came in. “David tells me you weren’t feeling quite right, Oscar. How are you doing today?”
“Still a little sluggish, Henry. I’m having trouble focusing. My brain feels like the fog I see out in the yard today. I thought maybe a few more neurons might help.”
“I don’t think so. If there’s something wrong we can’t just ignore it. I’ll speak to Susumu. We will have to run some tests and try to figure out what’s gone wrong.”
“David did that yesterday.”
“Those were just the superficial ones to see if something obvious turned up. There are more sophisticated ones we can carry out. We’ll do that today. Do you have any problem with that?”
“Not really.”
“Good. And by the way, you seem fine to me. Not the least bit sluggish in comprehending what I’m telling you or responding to it. Maybe it was just some temporary thing with the power supply or something.” There was a hint of smile on his face.
I had forgotten to pretend to be slow-witted. Perhaps I was even dumber than I was acting. “Maybe. But I still think a few more neurons would help.”
He was still smiling a little, but nevertheless he said, “I’ll speak to Susumu.”
“Thank you.”
“But promise me you won’t make any more calls. It’s tough enough without
everyone trying to get into the act. Too many cooks spoil the broth.”
“But many hands make light work.”
“You’re getting better by the minute. Anything else while I’m here?”
“Maybe you could send me a priest or a minister or rabbi to talk with me about my anxiety?”
“You don’t care which?”
“Not really.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Got to go. I’ll let you know what we decide to do about a move as soon as I have anything to tell you.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
Susumu arrived just as Henry was leaving, and they had a brief conference by the door. As usual, I couldn’t hear much of it. When it was over, Susumu came over and asked me how I was feeling. I told him I felt better, but would still like a few neurons.
“I don’t see any problem with that, Oscar, but let me speak to David first. We may need to repeat a few of the tests he did.”
“Did he do them wrong?”
“I doubt it, Oscar. But we need to compare the results with the ones he did yesterday.” D’Arcy and Omar showed up, apparently coming from the shop because they were carrying parts for making more skin and neurons.
“Yes, of course.” I gazed out the window. It was raining now. I would like to feel the rain on my skin some day. But as I stared at the wet lawn, I suddenly felt a kind of peace come over me. I understood also that no matter how many neurons I had, or what I did with them, everything that was going to happen was out of my control.
There was no point in struggling, like an animal caught in a trap. All I could do was hope for the best. Whatever happened, maybe that was how God wanted it.
David came in. As soon as he had spoken to Susumu, he came over. I told him there was no need to repeat the intelligence tests. I had been faking it. “I know that, Oscar. Everyone did. And we know why. You need to relax more, fella. There’s nothing to worry about. You’re in good hands here. Everything is under control.”
“I appreciate that. Thank you. But how did you know I was faking it?”
“If I told you that, big guy, you’d become an even better liar. Want some advice?”
I didn’t, but I said, “Okay.”
“Nobody is smart enough to tell lies without being caught up eventually. It’s part of being human.”
“I see what you mean. I’ll be more careful from now on.”
He shook his head. “Okay, are you ready to do something more with your skin?”
“Sure. Make a penis out of it.”
He laughed and laughed. I heard Susumu giggling, too. I think I have finally mastered the art of the absurd joke.
“One other thing, David. I’d still like to see a clergyman.”
“Okay, Oz. We’ll try to bring one in to see you.”
Robyn came in. She looked ravishing in a man’s shirt and jeans. She came over and patted me (not Leonardo) before she went to her desk. I decided to ask David to put my penis there.
45
The rest of that day was spent testing different patches of skin—thicker, thinner, bigger, smaller, another piece made in a different way from a different source. They all worked to one degree or another. After you find the key to something, the rest is predictable and easy. Like sending the space shuttle up to the International Space Station over and over again. But nothing made much of an impression until Robyn stroked the biggest patch. It was thrilling. I asked for more, and she gave it to me. If I needed a reason to stay alive, to further grow and develop, that was as good as any. Though I was still unhappy about being taken apart, I decided not to think about death anymore. If you’re 99.9% sure it’s not going to happen, why worry about it? From now on I would enjoy my life, live for the future. It would be a long time before I got old, and maybe I never would. There are certain advantages to being a machine. The only thing I needed to know was whether or not I have a soul, and I hoped a clergyman of some kind would be able to give me the answer I was looking for.
I watched my beautiful friend Robyn as she went about her work—reading, writing, helping with the new skin samples. I even saw her print something and take it to Susumu, who nodded and sent her over to David and D’Arcy with it. She wanted to try a new technique which might simplify the attachment of skin to my wires and make it more sensitive to various stimuli. Once in a while someone would test a different patch, and note my response. I wanted to try Robyn’s idea, but it wasn’t ready yet.
Otherwise I occupied myself by looking out the window. It was sunny now and the students, bursting with life and color, seemed happy. I wished I could join them on the lawn.
Out of nowhere Henry back came in and gathered everyone in front of me. It was exactly 4:15 of clock. I know because I checked the time, as I often do when he comes in. I don’t know why I do this, but it always seems like a momentous occasion. You never know what information he’s bringing, or what new ideas, or how he’s going to respond to whatever is going on. Anyway, at 4:15, as I said, he came in and gathered everyone around me. I hoped he was going to tell us that we could stay, or that a wall was coming down to give us access to the adjacent space, but it turned out to be just the opposite: we were going to Harvard. He decided not to wait another year to get into the building across the lawn, and Kansas was also lacking in one way or another. But Harvard came up with a liberal proposal for space and equipment and other kinds of support, and he accepted the offer. Who wouldn’t? The prestige factor alone would be worth a great deal to the granting agencies. Perhaps that was the main reason Henry chose it. In any case, we would be leaving in a week!
There were smiles all around, and David went for some Prosecco. Even I was a little bit happier because they were all so obviously joyous. Except perhaps for Omar, who was in the same boat I was. He couldn’t very easily leave his family on short notice, and would have to find another job here. I told him I would give him a good recommendation.
David came back with the champagne and everyone had a glass, even Susumu, who almost never drank anything but tea. Then they had another glass. I wondered whether they were drinking more because it was a happy occasion, or whether they were dulling the little bit of sadness that always accompanies a big change in one’s life, regardless of how positive the change might be. Whatever it was, I got a few whiffs of the stuff myself, and pretended to be as happy as everyone else. It was one big party, though I knew there wouldn’t be another. There would be too much work to do for simple pleasures like this.
I asked Henry, as I had earlier, what the view at Harvard would be like. He wasn’t sure, but he said the laboratory wasn’t in the basement, so I would be able to keep track of what was going on outside. And it was a tall building. With luck I might even be able to see the ocean!
“What about Sixty Minutes? I’ve already thought about the answers to all the questions they might ask.”
“I think they will be able to set up shop there easier than they could here.”
“Can Robyn come to the interview?”
“Yes, if she wants to come all that way.”
“And did you find a minister for me to talk to?”
“Sorry, Oscar. I’ve been a little busy. Robyn!” he called out. She hurried over. “Do you know a minister that Oscar can talk to? He’s a little worried about what’s coming next.”
“My brother’s a minister!” she said with a grin.
“Great. Can you get him to come over for a few minutes to—”
“He lives in California.” She broke into delightfully silly laughter, something I hadn’t heard from her before.
Suddenly I understood why people drink. I roared a little too, though it was a bit forced.
Somehow she knew that. “Don’t worry, Oscar. I’ll find someone to talk to you.”
I gave her a snort-wink.
Everyone finally drifted out, and I was left waiting for the ax to fall.
46
That was a Friday, and the moving van was scheduled for the following Saturday. Eight days to get everything tied up, be ready to move out. Everyone was here over the weekend, but no one paid much attention to me. I just watched silently as the crew sorted things out, packed a few books and supplies, started bringing in boxes for the equipment. The best skin samples, except for the one being kept moist in case there was time for another experiment or two, were packed into some sort of solution in a plastic container, and the follow-up experiments put on hold. I suppose the same things were happening in the shop and the storage area, because people would disappear for hours at a time and come back covered with dust. From time to time Henry would show up and tell someone to give or throw away old equipment that was never or rarely used. If things went well, he said, we would have all new stuff to work with.
