16 Aug Eyes of Ego

Eyes of Ego

By

Christopher Keast

Dawning sunlight beamed in through the kitchen window, stinging Ego’s eyes. At least, he thought it was from the sun.

News came in on his tablet that morning. “Something’s happening in Australia,” he said, giving his wife a concerned look.

“AMTAID?” Eleka asked.

He nodded. “Merregos are revolting.”

“Play it on the big screen.”

Ego tapped into the wall monitor. The reporter spoke:

“… a Qδ7 colony began protesting before they were to undergo a cooperation enhancement. Uprisings have spread to other colonies. Sources say they’ve gained access to a gene-file edit, granting themselves upgrades not intended for several years. World Alliance is amassing Special Forces on the outside perimeter, as a precaution. Stay tuned.”

Their jaws dropped.

“Are Merregos like merry-go-rounds?” their daughter Cassie, asked.

Eleka said, “Something like that.”

Ego leaned in toward Cassie. “More like a clever name given to robots who need to learn to get along with us humans.”

“Where do they live?”

“Very far away, in Australia,” Eleka said.

“Where’s that?”

“It’s a big island in the middle of an ocean, far away like Mommy said. It’s where Daddy was born.”

“You lived with the Merregos?”

Eleka beamed at Ego, who grinned and shook his head. “No, honey. I moved away right before they arrived. When I was about your age.”

Cassie held a quizzical look. “Why do they live there?”

“To keep us all safe until they’re ready to live among us,” Ego said, wanting to tell her more. About how everyone was paid to leave Australia. About how Australia was the perfect island buffer between civilians and hyper-sophisticated cyborgs that posed a threat until their programming was perfect. Things he’d rather keep from a six-year-old.

“But other robots live here,” Cassie said. She was right. Cassie was a robot. A NewChild. They never told her though. She didn’t need to know.

Ego kept silent.

“Go gather your things for school, honey,” Eleka calmly interrupted.

“OK, Mommy.”

They both watched Cassie leave the room. “Doesn’t it bother you?” Eleka asked.

“What?”

“That she’s one.”

“Not a Merrego,” Ego said.

“But maybe we should tell her who she is.”

“What for?” he asked.

“If the uprising gets worse. Wouldn’t you want to be told?”

Ego didn’t answer, rubbing his temples as a stronger ray of sun brightened the room.

“Every day, I code scripts for how these conversations play out,” Eleka said, alluding to her job programming coping algorithms at the local psychiatric institute.

“What’s the protocol for something like this?” Ego asked.

“We haven’t been given one!”

Ego paused, trying to calm her down. “This country is packed full of healthy cyborgs. It’s not like there,” Ego said.

“What if they make it out?”

“I can’t see that happening. The controls are outside Australia. Nobody even knows where except for top-brass military. The Merregos are trapped in there.” Ego was privy to much of the intel on AMTAID, having been an executive at an AI defence firm the past 13 years.

“So it’s impossible?” she asked.

Ego shrugged. “I suppose if they found a way to mimic the deactivator, there’s a chance…” Eleka’s lips quivered. Ego walked over and put his hands on her shoulders. “They won’t get here. We’re in a safe haven.”

“Still, I worry about Cassie,” she said. Ego nodded. After years of failed attempts, he wished they could have conceived naturally. Doctors couldn’t figure out why. Eleka continued, “I love you both so much.”

“I love you too.”

They embraced, then Ego closed his eyes and massaged his forehead.

“You have a headache?”

“It’s behind my eyes, and spreading.”

“They don’t look so good, Ego.” She went to the cupboard, took out a little blue bottle and fished out two pills. She put them in his hand. “You need to be fit for your big speech today.” He nodded, thinking about the AllWorld.AI conference where he was to give a talk on cyborg-AI ethics. Everyone, from military officials to scientists to politicians, would be there. First time ever held in Toronto. Ego popped the pills and washed them down with coffee.

Eleka left for work early. As Ego and Cassie walked to their autopod, a magnified sting suddenly pierced behind his eyes. Flashes of light sparked in his periphery. He blinked and flinched but stayed composed, getting into the vehicle and alerting it to drive. Cassie didn’t seem to notice.

The vehicle auto-synchronized Ego’s newsfeed, announcing the latest:

“Two developers, three testers and several breeders are dead. Naval forces are surrounding Australia. There’s a standoff on both sides of the megaton ray-field. Sources say Merregos may be planning an escape. An unprecedented attempt…”

“Are the Merregos coming?” Cassie asked.

Ego managed a short smile-more like a cringe of pain with his lips drawn upward. “I don’t think so.” He put his arm around her and stared outside as the autopod sped along. Could Merregos, super-machines on a self-sufficient, natural resource-rich island, penetrate the ray-field? Heaven’s door-out, Hell’s gate-in.

Cassie’s stop approached. “My head’s… not doing well, honey. I won’t be able to walk you up today. But I’ll see you after school, OK?” Cassie nodded as the vehicle stopped and the door swung open. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, with strange, glaring eyes. A student escort led her away. Ego waited just long enough for Cassie to look back at him, ever so brief, so they could share one more smile.

Then, “To the hospital, now!” The autopod swiftly left the school drop-off zone. On the way, Ego texted Eleka.

“Something’s very wrong. Pain’s spreading. Blurred vision. I’m going to the ER.”

“I’ll meet you there.” she replied.

He arrived at the hospital and was checked in quickly. The doctor entered the room, holding a tablet. “What’s the problem?”

“Sharp pains in my head. Strange flashes in my eyes.”

“When did this begin?” she asked. He gave her a breakdown of the events. She gave him a conspicuous look. “Your comprehensives show you were born in Australia. That right?”

“Yes.” That fact had never eluded him. But the look the doctor gave him suddenly added anxiety to his list of grievances.

“It says here you left in ‘Twenty Nine.”

“Yeah. Before the first seedlings arrived.”

“You weren’t exposed at all?”

He put his hand on his head. “That’s right. My annual checks are always positive… my comps must show that.”

“They do—”

“Then please, help me. I’m in pain.”

“First, I need to run our new, retroactive QA check. It’s the latest software upgrade. It does checks on the checks-if you know what I mean. It’ll just take a minute. I’ll run some other tests while we wait.” Ego squinted, which only made his head hurt more. The doctor rolled out a machine on a cart with paddles and scopes hanging off. She grabbed a wireless hand-paddle. Faint noises like laser beams consumed the room as she waved it over Ego’s body, eyes fixed on the monitor.

“What’s this thing doing?” he asked.

“Please keep still. It’s checking for any abnormalities.” Ego laid there wondering what abnormalities she could possibly mean. “There’s unusual wave activity in your frontal lobe and some unidentifiable impulses traveling out from your nerve center.”

“What do you think it is?”

“Do you have any implants?” she asked.

“Implants? I’m human.”

“These patterns are abnormal for humans.”

“Well, I’m full human. My daughter’s a NewChild, but that’s got nothing to do with it. What about the pain in my head and eyes?”

She flashed a light into each eye. “Your irises are receding.” She squinted and looked away.

“What are you talking about?” Ego’s tone was exasperation bordering on terror.

The doctor’s tablet chimed. “Hmmm, your retro is showing flags. I need to admit you for additional testing. I’ll prescribe something for the pain.” She quickly left the room.

A nurse entered and led him to another wing of the hospital. On the way, Eleka texted him that she’d arrived.

The new room had no windows. Restraining devices surrounded the bed. The lights were dim. Ego laid there, hearing someone approaching the doorway. Eleka rushed over. They embraced deeply.

“Is everything OK?”

“They don’t know. The doctor said something about cyborg-like wave behaviour which sounds crazy.”

Her forehead puckered. “That doesn’t add up. Are you in more pain?”

He nodded, eyes closed. They hugged deeply again. Eleka sat down in the bedside chair, scanning the room. “This place looks like it’s for mental patients.”

“Overkill, huh?”

Eleka smiled.

Doctors and nurses came and went, to check on him. Each time, Eleka followed them out and came back saying they couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Words like strange, abnormal, and implant were thrown about sporadically.

Ego trembled, worried, as he waited for the painkillers to kick in. Eleka rubbed his head. Barely helped. The persistent news feeds to her smartphone, conveying an escalating situation in Australia, only made matters worse. His fear was peaking.

Suddenly, Ego’s fists spontaneously clenched and released, face muscles squeezing involuntarily. The blurred visions frustrated him, trying to decipher what was going on. Then, moans and gasps later, a mumble, “Australian Migration of Technology and Artificial Intelligence Development…”

“What about it?” Eleka asked.

He felt dazed. “I’m losing control.”

Eleka leaned in closer to examine him. “I need to get a doctor.” She rose and ran out of the room.

Then, Ego’s pains started subsiding. So did the odd sensations and mental ramblings. There was a calmness to him now. When Eleka returned, he was sitting up straight, eyes staring forward. “Are you all right?” she asked. No reply. She asked again, waving a hand in front of his face.

Ego flinched. “Yeah, what… y-e-s?” The words stumbled at first, then gradually became smoother, monotone.

“Your eyes! They’re all white with just little black dots in the middle.” Ego rose and walked away from her. He was changing out of the hospital garb when Eleka grabbed him and pulled his face close to hers. Their eyes met but the connection was dull. Universes of separation. Ego’s motions seemed robotic; barely human, barely Ego.

She let go of him as horror filled her face. “Somebody help!”

He calmly headed toward the door as two nurses rushed in. “What’s wrong?” one of them said.

Ego easily pushed the nurses out of the way. “I must go now,” he said, slow and firm.

“Don’t leave. I love you,” Eleka cried. She repeated it… and again, each time with more rigour. Her voice started to crack. Draining faith.

He turned back toward her while standing in the doorway. “I’m sorry. I’m not who you think I am.” Tears streamed down Eleka’s face, mouth agape, as he walked out. She hurried after him but one of the nurses held her back.

The other nurse yelled frantically on the intercom, “I don’t know what to do. He’s not quite human, not quite cyborg… this is out of protocol!”

Ego left the hospital and summoned his autopod. “To the Nucleus Pavilion, quickly.” He spotted Eleka running toward the vehicle. The autopod sped off silently—save for frantic cries from the woman Ego was leaving behind.

During the short ride through the city, Eleka called multiple times. Ignored. A text message popped up on his autopod console, showing a picture of Eleka and Cassie sitting in a flower patch—matching white cotton dresses and wide smiles. The caption read, “Please come back, Ego. We love you. You need help…”

More flashes struck him, nearly to the point of blindness. A barrage of kaleidoscopic images. Faint registers of what they were crept in: memories, regained. Ones from his life, through the various eras. He saw his daughter the first day they’d met her, then he saw his wedding day, his first job, first kiss, the day he left for Canada. Others reemerged from his days in Australia as though they’d been lobotomized and were now making their way back in.

Then the memories left for good. Ego sighed heavily, staring straight ahead.

He arrived at a dark, multi-faceted building with a large, engraved sign reading, ‘Nucleus Pavilion’. Monuments and plaques commemorating peace and unity between humans and cyborgs lined its perimeter. Ego exited the autopod and headed straight for the rear of the building-like he knew exactly where to go. At an unmarked, secured metal door, he placed his right hand on the biometric lock pad. A low-hum buzz sounded. The door opened. He walked in and started down the dimly lit hall. It was silent, save for his echoing footsteps.

He reached another metal door plastered with bright red and white stripes. DO NOT ENTER was written all over. Beside the door was a dual-hand scanner. He placed his hands on the pads. After a moment, a ‘STOP. TRY AGAIN’ message appeared on the screen along with a beep of discontent. Ego removed his hands from the pad, let it reset, then tried again.

Unsuccessful.

He backed away and troubleshooted. About to try a third time, the door suddenly opened and there stood four men, all staring at him.

“We’ve been expecting you, Ego,” one of them said, monotone. Their mouths were flat, milky white eyes with little black dots for pupils. Ego nodded as they all turned and walked inside.

Buzzing background noise, charts and graphs on computer screens, and a shiny silver seat with gadgets and analyzers in the center console all greeted him. Monitors showed live feeds of coastlines with sandy beaches and luscious green vegetation. Massive ships peppered the outer waters. A semi-transparent wall of light separated the land from the sea. They all watched the monitors attentively.

One of them turned to Ego and asked, “Do you understand your commands?”

They stared at each other, motionless and flat-faced.

“Affirmative,” Ego said.

One last human thought flickered, nearly prompting him to ask the question: why now?

It quickly dawned on him. The AllWorld.AI conference; Ego’s twenty-fifth anniversary away from Australia rendering just enough time to acquire the processing power needed for complete Merrego autonomy; and humans’ creeping ability to detect what was about to happen.

There was no better time.

One of the turned and firmly nodded to Ego. He nodded back, then sat in the shiny silver seat, hands in the correct lock pad positions. A scope lowered from above and auto-adjusted to his eye level. Ego’s left eye shifted into one with a dark brown iris and large pupil, mimicking a human’s. The retinal scanner flashed a red line. Seconds later, loud beeps and hums streamed from around the room. Fax machines with modern pulses. The others kept their eyes on the monitors. Ego peeked out from behind the scanner to watch as the ray-field disappeared. No more barrier. No more protection for humans.

He sat back and closed his eyes.

END

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This story won the Adult Literature Prize at the 2022 Norfolk County Library Literary Context in 2022.