Tyrell Corporation. Inner Pyramid. Designer labs. Prototype division.
Rachael Tyrell watched as the birthchamber in Prototype Lab 05 opened and almost gagged as the lab filled with the foul odor of birthing fluid. A fluid that was slimey, thick and yellowish green of color, which in itself was already more than enough to dislike it. But the smell. That was worse. Far worse.
Please open the airducts. said Rachael, to one of the assistants standing next to her.
The assistent she had spoken to, Jane Faulkner, grinned. She had gotten used to this smell years ago, and even had to admit that the smell had improved over the years. Something that Rachael Tyrell still had to do, because she had only worked in the Inner Sanctum for a short period now, and this was only her third .
They are open. said Jane.
Rachael sighed.
Fuck it. she said.
Give it time... said Jane. You'll get used to it.
I don't fuckin' plan to. said Rachael. And walked over to the birthchamber, that slowly and with digusting sounds drained of the birthing fluid. This in turn slowly revealed the shape of a man. Covered in a thick layer of the yellowish green stuff that Rachael had learned to hate so much.
But then again... This same stuff had now produced her own replicant prototype. Her first. Product name: Nexus Humanica ZZ-45 And so far he looked...
said Jane. And... Ehm... Well endowed.
Rachael looked at her and ignoring her remark she said: Take him out and clean him off.
But of course she was right. He was well endowed. But so had been the man that she had modelled him after. The man she loved. The man she couldn't have. The man who had died.
Jane walked over to a control panel and punched in a series of codes on a keyboard. Instantly a hatch above the birthchamber opened, and four mechanical arms reached down into it. With programmed care they lifted and then transported the replicant prototype into a large incubator unit, that immidiately sealed itself and started a cleaning cycle that everybody, especially the females in the lab, wanted to witness.
He's perfect. said Rachael.
And then some... said Jane, just a little bit too loud.
Have you scanned him yet? asked someone.
Both Jane and Rachael stared at the other lab assistent who cowered under their looks.
You know the buttons. said Rachael.
Yes, ma'am. said the young girl.
The scanning cycle activated. Screens sprung to life. And data flashed over them in an unreadable format. All techlingo and stats. And this seemed to last forever, until finally the readable screens appeared.
They were all in the green. Except one.
It seems his synthetic eyes are off. said Jane. When I read this right, and I believe I do, he would be blind if we wake him up like this.
You're right. said Rachael, holding her dissapointment and anger well under control. What can we do?
Replacing them would be easy. said Jane. I could do it tonight if you want.
I want. said Rachael, and while she quickly walked out of the lab, she added: Make them grey, or I'll have your head.
In the so called clean room she let go, and threw everything that wasn't nailed to the floor to bits, while she screamed, yelled and cursed to all that was dear to her.
In the lab assistant John Varren stared at the door from which all the racket came and asked: What the hell is she so upset about?
Jane shrugged and answered: I have no idea. Maybe she finds it hard to follow in the footsteps of her uncle. However... I must admit that I have never seen a first prototype turn out this good. He's close to 98 in the green and in top physical shape.
She stepped closer to the incubator and could not help but glance again at the replicant's private parts. They were, to say the least, impressive. And Jane wondered who they were molded from. If it was an employee, she just HAD to date this guy.
She grinned.
Okay guys. she said, while she took off her latex gloves. Hook this fella up to a portable LSS and get him onto the operating table. I have some eyes to pick up, and a long night ahead of me.
Need any help? asked John.
She didn't answer him, and he didn't expect her to. Jane Faulkner worked alone, and everybody knew that.
She had the magic.
She had the touch.
She was to be the next replicant surgeon of the floor.
And everybody knew that also. Even Rachael Tyrell.
Rachael had left the clean room in a state that it had never been in and angry as she was, she immediately took the elevator to the hoovercar dock on the roof. There she was treated on some heavy rain, but instead of getting into her car right away, she just stood there for a moment. Crying.
My God... she said. What have I done to myself?
Indeed...
What had she done to herself?
Why had she created a replicant that resembled HIM so much?
Why?
Wasn't the torture that he had died enough?
Did she have to bring him back?
And DID she?
Did she really bring him back?
Or would he just be a mirror image?
With nothing in him or to him that would be the man that she had loved for such a long time that it seemed a lifetime?
What would he be?
IT be?
But wouldn't it be enough to have his mirror image then?
An image that she could shape and program to her needs?
Her wants?
Her longings?
Miss Tyrell?
Rachael's heart jumped when she heard the voice behind her and turned around.
It was a guard.
Everything allright? he asked.
She nodded. Hiding her tears in rain.
Just like tears in the rain... echoed a strange voice in her head.
She couldn't remember where she had heard that and she had no time to think about it. She had to go home. Home to her loving husband.
A two hour flight in her Lexotha Arvid hoovercar took her there. But before she landed, she just HAD to call Jane. Simply to see if she had already started replacing those bad eyes.
It took a while before Jane answered the vidcall.
Have you started yet? asked Rachael, looking down on her house already. Did you get him grey eyes?
On the small screen she could see Jane smile.
came the crackling reply. According to Yoshi they are from the same batch as the ones you picked out yourself. And by the way... Would you want me to him after the procedure, or...
interupted Rachael, far too loudly. She even made Jane jump.
Again she corrected herself and said: Ehm... No, Jane... I would like to see my prototype come to life myself. Just put him in the cold room. I will be there first thing in the morning.
Okay then. said Jane, with an even worse reception. And do I store him under a name?
said Rachael, as her hoovercar touched down on the landing pad behind her house. Just his productcode.
Will do... said Jane. And her picture dissapeared, to make room for a young girl that said: Thank you for using Skynet Callcenter for your call. You will be direct debited 7,43 for your call, but you will be credited 1,12 for bad reception, to be used on your next vidcall. Have a nice day.
bitched Rachael, as she got out of her Arvid.
As she walked to the backdoor she glanced at her watch.
0:35
Her husband would still be up. She just knew it. And that meant bitching and moaning about her not being there for dinner... Her not calling... Him not being able to reach her... And everything else he could think of...
And he would be right.
Of course he would be right.
He always was.
Replacing eyes wasn't really a challenge for someone as skilled as Jane Faulkner. And soon she wouldn't have to do jobs like that anymore. Within a month or so she would be promoted to second class replicant surgeon, and everybody was sure that it wouldn't take her more than a year to become a regular replicant surgeon.
Not that she minded doing this type of work. Because she didn't at all. But there were jobs that a surgeon just didn't do no more. And like all others she would have assistants to do them for her.
This time however she would not even have an assistant do this if she had one. Because even though she had witnessed the of many a replicant male. She had seldomly gazed at them with the admiration of looking at a man.
Rachael Tyrell had talent for creation. Or design. Or both. Because this here replicant that lay on the examination table was a very impressive, well muscled, and very handsome man.
Man.
Thing.
It.
Sometimes Jane had to remind herself that these replicants were a creation of man... Artificial. But sometimes that was very difficult indeed.
A few years before...
Have you ever had sex with one? asked her mom out of nowhere, while they were enjoying a tub of Crazy Fool Double Crunch icecream.
she asked, blushing from ear to ear.
One of them things you make at Tyrell. said her mom. Did you ever have sex with one you made? I hear people do that, you know... They call them pleasure models...
I know that, mom. she replied. I make them.
So? Do you? Have you?
No, I haven't, mom... Okay? I haven't.
She had lied. Of course. Because every assistant she knew (including herself) had a go with one of the . And then some. Because they were good, those pleasure models. Damn good!
But this replicant had no pleasure code in his file. None at all. Actually, when Jane had gone through the product file, there had been no mention of any specific designation at all. And his brain codation files were all double red level classified. Ridiculously high. But Rachael Tyrell probably had her reasons.
Jane had no time to worry about stuff like that though. She had to get to work if she still wanted to get some sleep that night.
The fight between Rachael and her husband had not taken very long, because it was just going through the motions. Every fight had been the same after her affair. And the lack of trust was something that she had learned to live with in the past year. And she had no problem with it at all.
She was not to be trusted. Period. Her marriage had been a mistake. Period. And if she could divorce, she would. Period.
But no. That was just NOT DONE in her family. It would be a disgrace.
Rachael started laughing.
Josh Muldoon, sitting accross from his wife at the dinner table, looked at her and wondered if she had gone crazy.
he asked.
She shrugged and stared right at him while she stated: I... Want... Out...Eyes are the windows of the soul, sweetheart... said jane, while she moved a little bioscanner over the eyes that she had just put in place.
She read the results of the scan of of a screen near her, and smiled when they all showed 100.
She had done her usual magic, so Rachael Tyrell would be proud. And maybe she would even speed up her promotion.
Jane smiled at the prospect and started to clean up her equipment, when all of a sudden the LSS that the prototype was hooked up to started to spew out all sorts of information on it's little screen, that was accompanied by a lot of beeps and electronic whistles.
She read the screen and then looked at the prototype, who's hands and feet had started to twitch.
Fuck no! said Jane, and adjusted the controls of the LSS. You can't wake up, shithead! Mrs. Tyrell will kill me! Stay the fuck down! Stay the mutherfuckin' fuck down!
The screen went dead. But just for a second. Because then all the regular readings returned for a dormant replicant.
said Jane, staring at the now completely motionless prototype.
he said, making Jane jump back in shock.
It couldn't be. The screen showed her he was dormant. So it would be impossible for him to speak.
she asked.
Nothing.
she tried again.
In response he turned his head and opened the eyes that she had just put in him.
Again she jumped back but this time she tripped over some wires that lay accross the floor, falling hard on her butt.
she yelled.
I feel........sick. said the prototype, looking down at her.
Jane got up from the floor and while rubbing her sore butt she said: I'm not at all surprised. According to the LSS you are only functional for 25, sweetheart.
repeated the prototype. I'm sick?
lied Jane. Very... It's better if you sleep again... You will feel better in the morning.
said the prototype.
Jane punched in the code for administering a dose of sedatives and the LSS responded. Within seconds the prototype closed his eyes again.
he whispered, before returning to sleep.
Pretty my ass... said Jane. I'm screwed... Mutherfuckin' screwed...
Rachael sat in the comfortable bucketseat of her hoovercar and stared at the picture on the dashboard. Her wedding picture. Taken 4 years ago in the Precious Moments Chapel in New York.
She looked very happy on the picture. And so did her husband. And in truth thay both had been happy, for quite some time. But not forever.
She took the picture from the little holder and looked at it more closely.
she whispered. If you only knew that it was your own fuckin' fault that I fell in love with your little brother.
She tore the picture in two and dropped it on the floor.
It was over... Done... She would make the necessary arrangements tomorrow, when she hat set up in one of the corporation's apartments. And if what her friend had told her was true, she would be divorced within two weeks.
Behind her, in the back seat, her two little dogs (real ones, not replicants) started playing with eachother. She patted them both, and then activated the engines of her hoovercar.
Time to go and leave this life behind. A new one awaited her. And it was more uncertain than ever.