ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE: PROJECT LENKA

INTRODUCTION

1955, Salt Lake City, Utah, United States

As the rain increased its speed, the wind blowing by the Colorado was blowing as if it were a reaction to human existence. However, even the blowing wind did not know how humanity existed. He was assigned only to adapt to the sky.

It was as if the sound of a car rising through the narrow streets was trying to overwhelm him despite the heavy rain. Like two different dolphins in a secret race with each other ... When the car stopped, the lights illuminating the streets of the street were also extinguished, the engine sound was defeated despite the sound of rain.

Mr. Compton, disregarding the wetting of his new coat from England, moved towards the one-story building. He knocked on the door three times quickly, twice slowly, once with a fist, and then the door opened. This was a simple password that helped Mr. Compton come in and prove that he was one of them. As the door opened, an intense light made Mr. Compton's green eyes squint.

He stepped into the one-story building. The white, intense light inside made him want to sit on the floor and cry. Although he was fifty-five years old, he did not care. There was a terrible truth that he did not want to accept.

The young man, walking around in an apron resembling a doctor's apron, got on the same elevator as him and went six floors down. Mr. Compton was studying the young man. He had curly black hair and brown eyes. When the young man was fifteen, he was discovered to be a genius and started working here at the Colton Company. Now he was eighteen, and though he felt Mr. Compton's gaze on him, he did not dare to turn and look at him. He was just as nervous as Mr. Compton.

When the elevator reached the sixth floor under the ground, there were footsteps that broke the silence. The young man began to walk down the long semi-luminous corridor, with Mr. Compton in the back. The creaking sounds of the lights and the deadly silence behind the doors were chilling.

When they reached the second door from the end, the young man felt the need to look at Mr. Compton before opening the door. As Mr. Compton nodded, the young man grabbed the door handle with his fingers. As the door opened, a cold wave of air caused a brutal chill on Mr. Compton's skin.

The room was cold as a sense of revenge running through a killer's veins.

With slow and timid steps, Mr. Compton moved into the cold walls. The young man closed the door slowly. The stretcher in the middle of the room and the white sheet on it made it clear that they were hiding a dead person.

The young man crossed over to the other side of the stretcher, directly opposite Mr. Compton, his gaze drifting over the stretcher. He wanted to point out that when his gaze was directed towards Mr. Compton, he was seeking approval from him to open the sheet.

Without looking at the young man, Mr. Compton grasped the sheet with his trembling fingers. He had just noticed that he was shaking. The young man was eagerly awaiting what would happen. Before joining his hands, he straightened his black-rimmed glasses and, worried about not knowing what was going to happen, he just waited for what would happen.

Mr. Compton lifted his fingers away from the sheet, backed a few steps and covered his face with his hands. He wanted to cry, but it was as if there was nothing left of tears in his eyes. He took his hat over his head and came back to the stretcher.

The young man witnessed all this and had to be content with not reacting. He was afraid of Mr. Compton because Mr. Compton owned the company and, according to the young man, also owned himself.

"You do this, Jones." Mr. Compton's addressing the young man by last name caused a slight tightness in the young man's chest. His reserved and introverted nature contributed even more to the young man's taking the title of ''genius''.

The young man ran his fingers over the white sheet, although he was afraid to upset Mr. Compton further. Slowly he unrolled the sheet and put it down. His anxious expression was on his face again. There was nothing he could do, he just had to watch.

Mr. Compton took deep breaths and approached his daughter's lifeless body. His daughter's body was just as cold and dead as the walls. His trembling hands ran across his daughter's dark brown hair. Her skin was white and under her eyes was purple. There were scars from the accident somewhere between her chest and shoulder.

Mr. Compton lost his daughter two days ago. Together they took a long journey from the state of California to the state of Texas. But they had not even left the state yet when the accident happened. His eighteen-year-old daughter died after a major blow from the accident. Mr. Compton knew it was a conspiracy. It was a trap and Mr. Compton had let his daughter fall into this trap.

When he heard the sound of the door opening, the young man fixed his gaze on Mr. Visser, who was standing behind Mr. Compton. Mr. Visser was forty-seven years old, an extremely ambitious man, dedicated his life to his work. This man was doing terrible things, but nobody knew about it.

"Have you said goodbye to your daughter, Compton?" It was only the young man who noticed that Mr. Compton's expression changed. Mr. Compton turned his back on Mr. Visser.

"You did it, you did it!" The three men standing behind Visser acted faster than him as Mr. Compton strode forward, aiming to wrap his hands around Visser's throat. When Mr. Compton was stopped by force, the young man was just watching them, not wanting to be fired from his job.

"I didn't do anything, Harold Compton. Why don't you want to understand this? You were the one driving the car, you were the one who made the accident. Now you come here and blame me? '' The young man was staring at Mr. Compton's faded face as Visser began to wander around the room.

"That's not what matters, Compton. You signed the contract. Which means you approve of us experimenting on your daughter. You know the rules too, don't deny it. '' Although Mr. Compton tried to free himself from the three men, he failed each time.

"I won the war, Compton. Do you see this boy? Marcus Jones. '' Mr. Visser advanced to the young man. He grabbed the young man's shoulder firmly, making him grimace.

"This boy is my future. This kid will realize this project. This boy, Compton, will mark a first in the world. '' After removing his hand from the young man's shoulder, Visser ran his fingers through his blond hair and moved towards the young girl's lifeless body. He brought his face closer to her face.

"Your daughter will work in 60 years and you'll sadly be too dead to see it. "When Mr. Compton began to beat himself up with anger, the three men pushed him to the edge of the room, giving way to six men in white coats that had been waiting by the door from the beginning.

"Your mission begins, Jones. Say goodbye to sleep for a while. '' When Visser snapped his finger in front of the young man's eyes, the young man realized that he had been absent for a long time.

When the six men who came into the room opened the cupboards embedded in the walls, they brought out a tall glass bell jar filled with a transparent liquid. The bell jar was shaped like an open rectangular prism and resembled a coffin. A man in a white coat took out glass tubes with red and green liquids from the next door cupboard and mixed them in another tube and poured them into the bell jar. Although the liquid dispersed in the bowl, it did not lose anything of its color.

The men in the apron lifted the girl and placed it in the bowl and started to wait for what would happen. Mr. Compton's terrified screams were echoing in the room as the girl's skin began to flow into the bowl and dissipate within seconds.

''No!''

The three men holding Mr. Compton, on orders from Visser, turned to the door to guide him out of the room.

Before Mr. Compton left the room, all he saw was Visser watching him. As Visser gave a hateful glance at Mr. Compton, his last words were seconds before Mr. Compton died of a heart attack.

''She belongs to me now.''