Daybreak

Shady Oaks Retirement Home

Dorge reaches out toward the television remote. It is far away but he finally gets a finger on it and pulls it to his side. He clicks the button off and then sits upright.

Taking a deep breath, he swings his legs off of the bed and into a pair of slippers with smiling Captain America faces on the front. He then grabs his walker and an "old man hat" that he's been wearing since he was 25 and stands up. He is on a mission.

After shuffling his way to the door he makes his way out into the hall. It is a beautiful spring day and the shades have all been opened. Rays of sunlight fill the halls and a calming breeze rushes through the building.

Dorge walks slowly, but with purpose. "Finally." he thinks. "I can finally put this gripe to bed."

Staff and other residents greet him as he passes. He acknowledges them politely but doesn't chance to stop for conversation. First he must end something.

Door by door he shuffles down the hall. Cafeteria... rec room... lobby... visitors lounge... janitorial supply rooms... Finally he reaches the lonely door at the end of the hall. Adver's room.

He pushes open the door without bothering to knock and shuffles up to the side of the bed where Adver reclines with his head facing the windows. Adver is smiling faintly as the breeze flows through the room.

"Adver" Dorge begins, "I've done it. I finally finished Battlestar Galactica. I'm ready to discuss the ending now."

Adver says nothing.

"Adver? Turn your hearing aid up... I wanna talk about Starbuck and the..."

The wind caresses the room again.

Dorge stares a moment, then sighs.

Adver's eyes are closed and he still smiles faintly... Like someone dreaming of cheesecake and a really good cup of coffee. He says nothing. Adver is dead.

Dorge sits for a moment and then stands back up, supposing he should tell someone.

A breeze fills the room once more, and Dorge would swear that he heard a faint voice carried along with it.

"... too late, asshole."

A Thursday

Celestial Cycle 747289-24. Simulation Date: January 27th, 1982

Seemingly derelict research Station 5951483 floats in the heart of a great void. But deep within, behind miles of churning gears, pistons, and processors, a race of techno-organic researchers maintain a massive simulation. There is not a sound in any of the simulant tongues to accurately name their species, but the closest approximation would be the Zelytronomstoraelotromelafulkitusbilectarpelleribuburigarpaliformastelabilitrusafarnus. 

We'll call them the Z.

The lights are dim as Naxys 8 enters the lab. It's supervisor wants to make some last minute preparations for additions to the simulation and Naxys drew the short splixo-tube to work the late shift tonight. It waves an appendage of it's lower quadrant in front of a collection of screens and dials, and they burst to life in otherworldly colors. Information streams from the countless displays and with the 36 optical receptors of it's Exo-Suit, Naxys begins to absorb it.

Pre-occupied with it's preparations, Naxys has failed to notice it's boss, Remular 96, sitting at a desk in the corner.

(Translated from the Z language of beeps and boops.)

"Hello, Naxys 8" Remular almost whispers "Thank you for joining me this evening."

Naxys is startled for a moment but recovers. "Hello Remular" it says. "Ready to finish up for the week?" 

Remular stares blankly out of the airlock viewport for a little too long and then says "Yes. Yes. I am ready to finish." it stumbles slightly to it's support appendages and one of them sparks as the guidelights readjust. Remular always liked the older model Exo-Suits. 

"Load up subject 333, Naxys."

Naxys begins typing and adjusting keypads and dials with it's 16 robotic limbs and upon the main screen in the back of the lab, an image of what we would call a "Human" infant appears. 

The child is surrounded by data fields waiting for input. It is Remular's job to make final decisions on the values of these fields while Naxys delves into the programming functions and sets the creature's final levels.

"Okay, boss" Says Naxys. "We're ready to go. The software updated last cycle so I am required to inform that all 100% units shall be considered "Normal" while anything above or below that shall facilitate lesser or greater ability or deficiency."

"Yes, yes..." says Remular "I know how it works Naxys... I was running this system when your synthetic gyro-matrix was still on the assembly line." Remular 96 pours a cup of neutron-4 (we might call it coffee), and stands at the monitor slowly dripping it into it's synthetic taste receptors.

Naxys 8 chuckles, and it would sound like "XXRTYREW-UOUOUOUOBLAEEEEER" to our ears. 

"Alright boss... lets start with the basics." it says.

The following is a long exchange between the two coworkers because I don't feel like typing it out in story form anymore. Deal with it.

Naxys 8: Alright, first up, Social aptitude.

Remular 96: 3%.

N8: 3%. Got it. Now we have Cynicism

R96: ...500%. Wait, Will it go higher?

N8: Uh... Most simulations have shown that Cynicism levels above 242% tend to throw the data way out of the expected parameters... You sure you want it that high, boss?

R96: 500%, Naxys.

N8: You got it, boss. Now we have religious fervor.

R96: Have they updated the system with extreme negative values yet?

N8: They have but... Religious fervor below 0% tends to create physically hostile simulants toward religion and religious people in general. They're still working out the bugs.

R96: *sighing* Fine. 0%.

N8: Done.

"I know where this is going." Thinks Naxys 8. "Serial killer aaaaaall the way."

N8: Okay boss, now empathy.

R96: Lets do 200%.

N8: I knew it... Wait... 200%?

R96: Did my vocal projection stutter, Naxys 8?

N8: Well no... but.. Okay. *adjusts dials* Laziness?

R96: Lets make this Variable. I want to go from 200%-400% but mostly leaning on the high side.

Naxys XXRTYREW-UOUOUOUOBLAEEEEER's again, and says "This is gonna be one worthless dude, huh?". Remular says nothing. And an awkward silence fills the room.

N8: Boss. Uhm... Are you alright? You seem a little... Ya know... Off?.

R96: I'm fine Naxys. I'm fine. I'm fine. Or I would be fine... I would be fine if my SKURPLOX of a life-mate wasn't NEURAL LINKING WITH EVERYONE ON QUARXOT 5. I WOULD BE FINE IF NOT FOR THAT, NAXYS. DOES THAT SATISFY YOUR QUERY!?!?!?

A long silence passes. Finally Remular lift's it's cup and drips more Neutron-4.

R96: Lets... Lets just finish this Naxys.

N8: You got it, Boss. Uh... well this is awkward. Sex drive?

R96: 80% I guess. Until he learns that love is just awkward silent treatment in your own domicile, and petty arguments interspersed with a few fleeting good days.

N8: ......... Uhm.... And after that?

Out of optical receptor number 12 Naxys spies Remular opening an unidentified container and mixing it with it's Neutron-4. 

R96: *Chugging the Neutron-4 in one gulp* 1%.

N8: Do you think... Uhm... Do you think maybe we should check the guidebook?

R96: Naxys. I recharged here last night. I haven't left this lab in 2 cycles. My lifemate is neural linking with our Exo-suit tuneup specialist right now. Do you know that? I have video if you want to see. I have video.

N8: ...

R96: What's next? Creativity?

N8: Yeah, boss...

R96: 0% most days, but with the occasional burst of 500%. BUT!!!! The 500% swing can only ever be at inconvenient times of the day, or just before sleep. Far away from any outlets. You can do some if/then statements and fix that right up, right Naxys. You were top of your class you were. Top of your class.

N8: That 500% swing is really going to cause problems with the laziness matrix...

R96: I know how the laziness matrix works Naxys.

Now Remular is XXRTYREW-UOUOUOUOBLAEEEEERing.

Naxys thinks it could use some Neutron-4 itself but suddenly feels afraid to stand up from the workstation.

N8: Humor?

R96: Let's do 50% for normal humor... 250% for dark humor, and uh... what's chaos humor? This is new. What is that?

N8: Oh... that's still in testing phase but it is usable. Basically its finding humor in things that have no real comedy value. I bumped it to 50% in a closed beta last cycle and my simulant laughed for a solid hour at a picture of an aardvark. 

R96: We're gonna go 500% chaos humor, then.

N8: I dont think... I mean... The option is there but should you really...

Remular is staring out of the airlock again and Naxys suddenly feels like it should stop talking.

N8: Uhmm. Okay... Well. Respect and affection for friends and family?

R96: 500%.

N8: Oh... well that's nice. Desire for human interaction?

R96: 32%

N8: I'm sorry, was that 320%.

R96. Thirty. Two.

N8: *Naxys hesitates...* Any uhm... Specific quirks?

R96: Sneezing. Lets make it really bothersome if someone sneezes more than 3 times in a row. oh and body hair. Specifically lets make him notice immediately any time someone's nose hair has become part of a mustache or beard and be really disturbed by that. And not just you know "That's weird." but I mean like dwell on it all afternoon disturbed, you know?

N8: Uh. Will the body hair variable extend to facial hair... because this laziness matrix is going to require a vagrant beard probably... I dont know... 80% of the time?

R96: Yes. It will extend to that Naxys. Nothing will ever be done about the body hair. It will just be a weird thing that will bother him. The vagrant beard will be there and always an annoyance. I want it to look down upon hairy arms and think "Gods... What am I?" All of this will stem from an unnatural and unexplained distaste toward primates, but a keen knowledge that somewhere deep inside, it IS a primate.

Remular 96 XXRTYREW-UOUOUOUOBLAEEEEERs loudly, then XXRTYREW-UOUOUOUOBLAEEEEERs once again quietly, and trails off. Moments of silence pass as Naxys quietly types. It starts to wonder if it should contact HR. Maybe even security. But decides against it. This lab made Hitler, AND Richard Simmons after all... Who would blink an eye at this strange monstrosity he was creating.

N8: We're not um... We're not activating back-hair 2.0 for this are we?

R96: *Thinks a moment* No. that would be too much. That might just push it over the edge. No back hair. Lets touch on memory though... I want it to remember things differently than the others. He will be able to remember VERY important things, but things of moderate importance will be immediately lost. Useless information however will be retained forever. And any slights upon him by other simulants. He will remember forever in vivid detail every conversation or action that ever made him feel disrespected, and will be able to call up that information immediately when needed. He will recognize bullshit immediately, but only call it out when it directly affects him.

N8: Anything else...?

R96: Lets make him unable to take a compliment, and incredibly awkward at giving them. Any compliment should be met with sys. file "Whatever.ugr". XXRTYREW-UOUOUOUOBLAEEEEER Oh this'll be great... lets name him for greater men of his line. The holy one, and the mechanic. That'll get a laugh right Naxys? Right?

N8: Remular, I have warning lights everywhere here... The system... It's not going to let me do this. I think... Why dont we take a break, and just go somewhere and talk?. I feel like... You're having a rough time and you know... Maybe projecting a little bit?

R96: ... Maybe you're right Naxys... Maybe you're right.

Naxys sighs a bit of relief and reaches to reset the parameters for a later run. They could delay this child a day or two with no problem. But suddenly Naxys finds it's quadrant limbs non-functional, and with that, the rest of it's exo suit goes dark as Remular 96 shoves a borium rod through the motivator of it's exosuit.

R96: I'm sorry Naxys. I want you to know that I always liked you. Your audio sensors should still be active... I didnt hit your backup power. You'll be fine. You'll be back online in a cycle. I'm sorry. I know you do not see it now. But this creature will be happy. It may even be the happiest creature in the simulation. It will just be strange. And... That will be okay. They're just bits of data anyway... Hell you should see what they're working on down in section X... Trump 2016. They wont even bat an eye over it Naxys. They'll just go about their little lives like everything is normal. They'll just ignore it. That's what they do. This one will ignore it too. But this one will ignore EVERYTHING except the few things that are important to it's tiny little data processor. And maybe that's the key. Maybe that's the key. He'll gravitate toward humble simulants who are kind despite their nature, and simulants who arent so afraid to just like what they like and do what they want to do without worrying about shattering the precious little image they've crafted for themselves. He'll find very few of those. Very few indeed. Trump 2016, Naxys... Look it up sometime. Later. I would show you myself but... Well.

Remular 96 shakes it's neural cortex from side to side in sadness and then overrides all of the system warning parameters. He then uploads his creation for immediate queue. 

He downs another cup of laced Neutron 4, takes one last look out of the airlock viewport, then back at the seemingly lifeless Naxys 8. It then opens the airlock safety door and steps inside the isolation chamber. Remular 96 XXRTYREW-UOUOUOUOBLAEEEEERs loudly one more time, and then spaces itself.