Appetence

Archive Log: 04

"It hurts," David stopped walking the corridor; pausing and tilting his head he listened to more awkward stuttered words before deciding to go and investigate. He ended up appearing on the threshold of a room which was filled with equipment, mechanical; manual and robotic alike, along with desks, scattered with numerous pieces of paper and books. A bed, rather clinical in appearance, where Minerva sat, straight backed and staring forwards. Her eyes would have been looking at David, but they were looking right through him. There was a distinct light missing in her eyes.

David stepped forwards, a work room, he looked around the boards with blueprints on them, white boards stuck to walls dotted in sketches, equations and jotted notes. "It...it hurts." Minerva's voice stuttered out again, David slid his eyes back to her as her mouth opened and shut slowly, as if trying to say something else, only to fail. No words were coming out, he frowned and stopped short in front of her. From where he was standing, he could see Weyland. The man was leaning forwards, doing something, a tablet was on the bed beside Minerva. Even though it was upside down to him, David could see diagnostics running, programs scanned and information flitted across the thin screen.

"What is it?" David looked up slowly, Weyland was looking over Minerva's shoulder at him. His work had come to a sudden stop when he clearly registered David being in the room. "What is it, David?" He asked again, thinking the synthetic was here for a specific reason.

"Does she feel pain?" David looked at the lifeless expression of Minerva. Her eyes still stared blankly ahead, her mouth now slightly agape.

"There's a concept." Weyland said, disappearing back around her to finish doing whatever it was he was doing.

David tilted his head and moved around to stand by his side. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of Minerva's inner workings; her brain, silver and blue, the shining silver metal which made up bone was lit with blue lighting and blinking sections which were her brain, her mind, where all of her thoughts and feelings were stored. "A concept," David's eyes narrowed. "It is make believe then?"

"I wouldn't say that. It is there, it isn't fake. The pain you feel, you both feel, and the pain a human would feel differs." Weyland explained, a small device probed at something and a small trail of smoke trailed in the air.

David frowned, "What are you doing?" What was the reason to need to crack open Minerva's head and rummage about in there? Surely her inner workings and hardware were fine now, or were fine when first installed? David's frown disappeared and he returned to being blank faced, he remembered something distinctly: the admittance to tweaking, of being a perfectionist. He shook his head, was this disgust he was feeling? There was a cruel indifference lingering, but yet also injustice; he felt bad, he felt disjointed from seeing someone like himself being opened up and tweaked and hacked internally because they were not perfect, or deemed perfect for whatever their reason to be was.

"Update."

David flinched a little at that, he made her sound like technology just simply updating when on standby mode. "As in?"

"Running on the same system as you, David. Her one is a little out of date, in comparison to you. I'm just bringing her up to the modern times." Weyland said while picking the tablet up and skimming his fingers over the screen. He was silent and looked unhappily downwards, he was concentrating hard that he paid no mind to David leaning down in front of her.

"How old is she?"

"Ten," Weyland said while taking a wire and plugging it into her and then into the tablet. She jumped a little, yet remained seated. David watched as her eyes lightened slightly.

"Is she based on someone?"

"Sorry?" Weyland looked at him with a frown.

David smiled and leaned away. "Simple question, I am curious. It is an interesting face to choose, to create; to make and last forever. Where did the inspiration come from?"