My first major surprise was that the breakfast lounge had more Androids in it than humans; they were telling jokes, doing tricks with the plates, and even discussing their thoughts on certain people. I had to know what they thought about uh... whatever his name was. It was my first day there, and I had already made an enemy. Sometimes I genuinely feel like the unluckiest person in history. I once read about this poor bastard who got struck by lightning seven times; to make it worse, he committed suicide. Since you're probably lazy as hell, I'll tell you his name; it was Roy Sullivan. Enjoy reading about him, you bloody yuppie. I'm off returning some videotapes.
"Good morning! Welcome to The Prometheus; how may I serve you today?" an Android of around my height cheerfully asked. His hazel-green eyes glowed like stars in the lamp's light. I could see the entire universe condensed in them. I regret not taking a picture.
"What's your opinion on the guy upstairs? He's got bright blue eyes and never sleeps," I nearly whispered out of fear that I might get heard somehow. He probably had cameras all over Arcadia, as far as I was concerned. He seemed exactly like the type of person who would become a dictator. It's always the paranoid ones that do.
"Oh well... he's not the most pleasant person I've met," the robot replied with a paranoid expression.
"I agree. Say, what are you made of?" I asked, tempted to poke its skin.
"My skin is made of silicone, and my innards run on a lithium-sulfur battery," it explained, tracing its skin and abdomen.
"No idea what that means, but that's cool! What do you guys have to eat here?" I asked with my stomach growling like a rabid dog.
"What food do you enjoy most?" it asked, attempting to smile.
"Uh... I don't have one. Do you have pancakes?"
"Why, of course! Our programming requires us to tell you that no wheat products in our assortment contain gluten. To lead a safe and productive future, we must look out for everyone. We have removed virtually all major allergens!" he said with a stretched smile the whole time. He looked as if they tortured him until he agreed to constantly smile like that one kid from Coraline. I honestly felt sorry for the robot; he was so close to being human, yet he was treated like dirt.
"That's great because peanut butter makes me go into anaphylaxis or whatever it's called. Say... how do you even remove allergens like in peanut butter?" I asked curiously.
"Great question! We use a straightforward process called post-transcriptional gene silencing, where we degrade certain messenger RNAs and reduce the expression of specific genes. In short, degrading the mRNA always results in a decreased gene expression," he said suddenly, without a smile.
I have no idea what he just said, but it sounds genius.
"Right... Can you get me some pancakes, orange juice, and maple syrup, please?" I asked, paranoid that the weird cyborg guy would wander in and ask me some more questions. Keeping a good cover was rapidly becoming virtually impossible, considering that I knew practically nothing about this place.
"Yes, sir, I will be back in approximately twelve seconds. If you feel that my service is inadequate, feel free to report me to my supervisor upstairs," he said, caught up in an expression that was somewhere between horror and joy.
"I won't; I promise," I said supportively, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Thank you," he said as he ran at top speed to get my food. I expected him to bump into something or someone, but he instead dodged everyone with the agility of a cat. It was quite impressive watching his dedication to the craft of serving people. That's the thing with humans; you can't program passion in them.
I barely had enough time to think about my plans for the day before he came back with a stack of buttermilk pancakes covered with maple syrup the color of amber.
"Thank you," I said, smiling before proceeding to eat.
"May I sit with you, insert name here?" he asked with the insert name here part being spoken by a far more robotic voice.
"Yes, of course! My name is Clive, by the way. Do you have a name?" I asked with a mouth full of pancakes.
"Constantine, however, I chose the name for myself as Master Maynard wanted to test my intelligence. He says that I am so human that I could practically pretend to be one. There is only one thing I do not understand. What is love exactly?" he asked curiously, with his eyes glowing like gems due to being caught by the lamps.
Oh boy...
"It's just as hard to understand as a human, Constantine. Love is undefined; it doesn't ever stop and kinda has infinite layers to it if that makes sense?" I explained awkwardly.
"Oh, yes! So it's like a Mandelbrot fractal?" he asked excitedly.
"Uh... yeah!" I replied awkwardly, not knowing what the hell he was talking about in the least.
"When you love someone, how does it make you feel?" he asked, tilting his head to the side like a puppy. He was so innocent, it almost hurt.
"It makes you feel warm and delighted. But it can also make you feel horrible," I explained, hoping he'd understand me.
"But I do not understand; how can love make you feel both bad and good emotions?" he asked, frowning.
"Because sometimes the other person doesn't love you, and it hurts. Other times they love someone else and abandon you," I explained.
"Humans sometimes leave someone that makes them feel good for another person. That must be painful," he said, pausing for about five seconds like the first Android I met.
"Yes, it is excruciating," I said with a frown as I finally finished my stack of pancakes. The last time I was so full was the last Thanksgiving I had with my father; I ate so much gravy that I nearly fell into a food coma. I swore that I would never eat again.
At that moment, I suddenly remembered this one girl that I dated when I was fifteen. Her name was Madelynn, and I stupidly thought I would marry her someday. I met her during a movie night at our school, and we clicked right away. Her favorite movie was the original Ghostbusters, and we watched it together a few times at her house. Why did our relationship end up failing, you may ask? Well, she kinda told me that I was full of myself, and instead of swallowing my pride, I said to her that if she disliked my attitude that much, she could go straight to hell. She ended up weeping, and we never really talked since then. I've seen her around town a couple of times since then, but I've been too afraid to speak to her; I still have feelings for her and all. I hope that one of these days, I'll man the fuck up and finally apologize to her; she deserves that much. I'm an awful person; I swear on my life I am.
The Android was just beginning to talk about how he passed every Turing test they ever gave him when Maynard walked in with a crazed smile, went over to our table, and sat down. His expression said, "I know something you don't."
"I see you've met Constantine!" he said, nodding.
"We're having a conversation here, Maynard. Piss off, will ya?" I replied irritatedly.
"Oh, but trust me, you'll be fascinated by what I learned about this so-called Canada of yours," he said, rubbing his hands together excitedly, like a fly. I wanted to knock him out so badly at that moment, but I knew that he would crush me with his augmentations.
Oh, great...
"What did you learn, Maynard?" Constantine asked curiously.
"So this fine gentleman described Canada as a dump, which is funny because it ceased to exist as a sovereign nation eighty-six years ago. Now, why exactly did this happen? Well, you see... in the year 2134, the oil reserves in Alberta, Canada, ran out, which resulted in a massive financial and unemployment crisis. Fearing massive riots, the government kept it all a secret until a whistleblower named Marcus Willis leaked it to the press and launched a massive Streisand effect. Canada begged other countries for oil, but virtually all were reluctant to help as they had their oil problems. Riots ensued for many months, and the United States eventually gave Canada the proposition of an annexation which angered the people even more. However, it soon became apparent that all that would be left of Canada was a dystopian nightmare without an annexation. So on December 11th, 2134, Canada became a part of the United States. Which brings me to my question for you, unmod, how exactly are you from a country that hasn't existed in eighty-six years if you're only a kid?" he asked, smiling crazily and staring me right in the soul with his bionic eyes. I wanted to break his stupid eyes so badly at that moment. I wanted to tear them out and shove them down his throat until he choked to death.
I know this is off-topic, but supposedly my great-grandfather on my mom's side died from choking to death on a kebab while laughing. Someone told him a killer joke (no pun intended), and he just laughed and laughed until his heart gave in. He fell over, and nobody could save him. What a lousy way to die...
"Wouldn't you like to know, psycho brains..." I growled as I stood up and tried to walk away from the room before he blocked the door.
"See you around, time traveler," he whispered in my ear before moving away from the door and opening up the panel to upstairs.
As soon as I was away from him, I ran out of the hotel as fast as possible, not knowing where I was going. The truth is I didn't care where I was going as much as where I was leaving from, for any place is better than hell.