Made with Love - by James Le Cocq

‘Are all systems ready?’

‘Yeah. Just need to close up the back and it’ll be good to go.’

‘What’d you say neuroboy? You weren’t supposed to check that area!’

‘I didn’t. I was just going to close it up.’

‘It should already have been closed. I thought Vietmorr made that explicitly clear.’

‘They did! I know the terms.’

‘Don’t get smart with me, now finish up and tick off. People will be turning up soon.’

~

At approximately nine in the morning a soft bell chimed in Capp’s crystalline skull, her violet eyes opening to the familiar view of her large, rectangular room lighting up. She ran a quick check of its contents, head slowly rotating on its plinth in the centre of the room to scan the table strewn with surgical tools: the large, flat-screen monitor built into the wall directly in front of her, and the set of chrome double-doors that now slid open to permit a woman inside. Capp watched her visitor step through carrying a small metal case and brushing away a fringe of greying hair. The woman gave the bodiless android a friendly smile as the doors closed behind her. Capp would have returned the expression in kind, but Vietmorr had not quite finalised a working jaw yet. Hers was currently set in a skull’s clenched grin, but despite the setback she could still project her polite, monotone voice to be heard clearly.

‘Good morning Eurie. Was your rest sufficient for today’s schedule?’

‘You tell me,’ Eurie asked back, putting the case down on the table before taking a stylus and tablet from her coat pocket. While she tapped the first commands in, a diagnosis algorithm activated inside Capp’s head. In less than a few seconds she had analysed the unkempt strands of hair waving from Eurie’s head and her stretched, pale skin that became discoloured beneath the eyes.

‘Despite your application of skin moisturiser, it is clear that you were unsuccessful in achieving the healthy number of hours for optimal performance today.’

Eurie let out a half-hearted laugh. ‘And what would you prescribe me?’

‘Three hours of additional sleep,’ Capp bluntly replied.

‘Oh, if only that were possible,’ Eurie muttered, stifling a yawn as she selected a program on her tablet. Behind her, the monitor sprung to life with the pentagonal symbol of the AI robotics company, Vietmorr. Next, she walked back to stand on its left side, tablet and stylus held at the ready. ‘We’re going to go through one more variation of the Bellignant test before we head off to the Papaleon.’

‘How long will this variation be?’ Capp asked.

‘Not long. Just a few image-response tests. We don’t have time for a practical surgical simulation.’ Eurie’s expression then shifted to a more professional, clinical look.

‘I am going to show you a sequence of images, each depicting a patient with a different affliction. You must diagnose each patient and formulate a strategy for treatment, care and rehabilitation. Success will be based on your response-time and the effectiveness of your strategy.’

‘Understood,’ Capp replied, and rotated to stare straight at the monitor. Eurie tapped a command in and Vietmorr’s logo faded away, replaced by the image of a young, stocky teenager sporting scratches and dark bruises all over his face. One had clutched a nose dribbling copious amounts of blood, and Capp’s response was near-instantaneous.

‘Patient has suffered physical trauma to the front of the skull. Symptoms include fractures to the nasal bone and swelling around the eyes and forehead. He needs to be escorted to a surgery to realign the bone pieces and cartilage, and to clean all other minor skin damages.’

‘Length of rehabilitation?’ Eurie asked.

‘Five days to complete a full recovery.’

Eurie nodded before moving the image on to depict a middle-aged woman in a bikini clutching her belly, mouth wide open in an agonised scream. This time Capp took slightly longer to reply.

‘Patient is experiencing the early stages of a burst appendix, indicated by her high levels of stress and excessive swelling around the abdominal region. Immediate extraction is mandatory for removal of the damaged organ. Once completed, she will require a rehabilitation period of no less than two weeks.’

‘Ok. Last image Capp. Again, please respond as quickly as possible.’

The screen shifted again, and it was clear to Capp that compared to the previous images, this one was markedly different. An adult male lay asleep in a hospital bed, head propped up by two large pillows. Both hands rested on his chest, while his right arm had an IV drip protruding from it. Ugly lines of scar tissue criss-crossed his shaved scalp while tired, pinched skin defined his eye sockets. Capp also noted the three other humans – two adolescent males and an older female – sat around the bed watching. Waiting.

Exactly seven seconds passed before Capp spoke again. ‘Patient is afflicted with the cancer type Glioblastoma Multiforme. No definitive cure is currently known for this disease.’

‘Are you certain?’ Eurie asked, her attention now focused on Capp’s facial patterns and the frown of concentration developing as the android considered her words.

‘The life expectancy of humans suffering from this disease is roughly one full year with the available medical treatment. This man has undergone all such procedures.’

‘So, nothing can be done for him?’

‘Incorrect. Further medical treatment may be redundant at this stage, but emotional support will ease his transition from life. His family is with him, and he should spend his last moments with them.’

Capp finished her analysis and moved her gaze back to Eurie. The woman’s expression displayed surprise, or perhaps even shock.

‘My apologies,’ Capp said. ‘Is my strategy incorrect?’

Eurie took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes briefly. ‘No, that was fine. I just wasn’t expecting you to take stock of that last detail. I didn’t know Vietmorr had programmed such…human awareness into you.’ She said the last point more to herself, then snapped out of her ponderings. ‘Well, I reckon that’s good enough. Ready?’

In response, Capp turned her had back to its original position. Eurie nodded and tapped in another command that made the ceiling panel immediately behind Capp’s plinth whine open. From its depths uncurled a robotic, insectile arm ending in a set of fine needles. Once fully extended it reached towards the back of Capp’s head and four holes located just beneath the dome of her skull. It stopped just short of inserting the needles in, allowing Eurie to give Capp one last smile.

‘Well. Guess I’ll see you at the Papaleon. You understand what’s happening?’

‘Indeed. I will make the company proud,’ Capp replied before Eurie tapped in the final command. The needles leapt, the arm twisted clockwise, and Capp’s eyes closed. Slowly, the arm drew back with a long, transparent cylinder secured in-between the needles. Eurie picked up the case from the table and, opening it, walked over to hold it up to the arm. It then proceeded to carefully place the cylinder inside before curling itself back into the ceiling.

Euire turned the case around to have a quick look at the cylinder. She could see impossibly thin threads and synapses inside that every now and then twinkled like miniscule stars. Everything that made up Capp was in there, safely stored and ready to be transferred to her waiting body.

‘Fascinating,’ Eurie murmured as she closed the case and checked her tablet. The demonstration would be starting in roughly forty minutes: she would have to hurry. At the doors she stopped and cast one more glance to the android head, now lifeless and inert. She shuddered at it’s rictus grin before leaving.

~

The anatomical theatre room in the Papaleon was almost completely packed. Dozens of people, guests of honour invited by Vietmorr’s executive board, lined the eight concentric tiers. Everyone had a clear view of the current speaker, Dr Hans Mólay, as he circled around the centre. He observed the audience’s faces while he spoke, pleased to see most were filled with a nervous curiosity.

‘For the past five years, Vietmorr have been developing a new artificial unit that will revolutionise the surgical field and omit the possibility of human error. A unit that can take one look at any human being and know instantly what is wrong, and the best course of action for a swift recovery.’

Hans paused, gesturing to the tall object sharing the centre with him. It was covered by a thick, pristine white shroud with a distinctly humanoid outline visible beneath. Next to it was a waist-high table bearing an assembled collection of surgical tools, all neatly arranged and ready for use. Hans walked over to stand next to the shrouded object, hands clasped behind his back.

‘With this unit, hundreds of human lives will be saved where so many have been needlessly lost before. You have all been invited here so you might witness first-hand the greatest leap forward in surgical and artificial history. On behalf of the Vietmorr Corporation, I am proud to show you the first medical android, Capp-unit!’

He clutched a fistful of cloth and pulled the shroud back, revealing the androgynous form of a fully completed android beneath. The audience gazed in wonder at the mechanisms clearly visible beneath its transparent skin, looking at the brain piece, wires and servos that made up its intricate workings. It did not move, the eyes closed, and people began to look expectantly at Hans again. His own eyes were glancing towards the set of sliding doors that led back into the prep-room.

‘At the moment, the android is completely devoid of consciousness, waiting to be filled with thoughts and personality. This is kept in a cylinder inserted into the back of skull’-

The doors suddenly yawned open to permit a young man speckled with moles. He carried the metal case and a needle gripper, laying them both on the table. Hans gave him a polite nod, though his eyes barely masked the irritation he felt for the late delivery. He waited until the young man had the cylinder secured in the gripper before speaking again.

‘Now, our neuroboy will insert the cylinder into Capp-unit here, and we’ll properly begin.’

The neuroboy went to stand behind the android and carefully slotted in the cylinder before twisting it anti-clockwise. The gripper moved away as small lights sprung up inside the android’s brain-piece. Its eyes flickered, opened, and Capp stared out.

‘I am ready,’ she announced to a select smattering of applause. The neuroboy hurried back through the doors past two men wheeling an occupied gurney in. They stopped in the middle of the circle just in front of Capp so that she loomed over it. Upon it lay the still form of a pale woman, with all save her head covered by a thin blanket. At first the audience assumed she was dead given just how pale she was, but a few noticed her chest subtly rise and fall in steady breathing. Fewer still realised what was going to happen, and one audience member stood up, face incredulous.

‘You cannot seriously be about to let a robot conduct surgery unsupervised?!’

‘I am,’ Hans replied. ‘This woman volunteered herself for the new surgery, and Capp-unit has been trained so that she cannot make a mistake.’

‘This is still madness!’

‘Vietmorr calls it progress,’ Hans shot back, casting his gazearound the assembled guests. ‘I ask that everyone remain silent for the demonstration. If you wish to leave for whatever reason, then the exits are at the back.’

Only the one outspoken member left, proceeding to stomp up the steps past Eurie, who had just walked in. She took the seat left vacant without a word, saying nothing and with her attention focused solely on the centre. Hans stepped away from Capp, hands clasped together, and spoke clearly.

‘You are to determine the patient’s affliction, a strategy for treatment, and will complete the procedure. Use what you deem necessary.’

Capp looked down at the sedated woman and pulled back the blanket, revealing a body dressed in a simple cold-green hospital gown. After a quick scan, Capp spoke aloud for everyone to hear.

‘This patient has suffered extensive physical damage to her left leg, with fractures to both the tibia and fibula bones. The limb requires an internal fixation using three nails. Two for the tibia, and one for the fibula.’

She then turned and selected a scalpel from the table, holding it delicately over the leg.

‘Heartrate and blood pressure is stable,’ she stated. ‘Beginning procedure.’

The audience held its breath as the scalpel went down and drew across the lower part of the limb. Unlike the people either side of her, Eurie didn’t look away, but watched as Capp delicately sliced through skin and muscle before pulling back both sides of the cut to reveal the glistening bone beneath. Next, she selected three nails, and with great care successfully realigned the two fractures in the tibia. The nails were fixed precisely in place before Capp stitched the cut back up. No one said a word, completely in awe of the performance.

With the upper leg completed, Capp now prepared to repeat the process on the upper part, holding the last nail. As her hand moved down however, the demonstration was interrupted by a loud, keening wail that began emanating from her skull, freezing her in place for several seconds. Eurie stared at Hans, who had remained standing in the centre circle to watch, holding his ears, paralysed by the cacophonous wailing. It then stopped abruptly, leaving the room quiet again. Hans let go of his ears and stared towards Capp, eyes staring with bewildered concern as the audience also collected themselves. For a few seconds nothing happened, then Capp spoke again, but her voice had worryingly gone cold.

‘Malfunction in rotary system. Unable to activate muscles in fingers and hands.’ Another pause followed as Hans began to cautiously approach the gurney while the audience looked on. Capp continued.

‘Completion of surgery remains primary objective. Recommencing.’

Capp then proceeded to ram the nail she was holding into the woman’s leg. Such was the force, it jolted the patient wide awake despite the administered anaesthetic, her mouth opening in a cry of pain. Hans now rushed over, the neuroboy appearing close behind as they tried to grapple with Capp’s arm. It didn’t stop her from trying again, causing another agonised scream from the patient even as she elbowed Hans in the stomach. By now the audience were leaping up and shouting as they began to dash for the exits. Meanwhile the neuroboy had drawn his needle gripper and managed to jab it into Capp’s skull, yanking out the cylinder. At once the android went slack, arms falling to either side, still gripping the surgical tools. Hans, with his face drained of all colour, grabbed the gurney and wheeled the screaming patient away. The neuroboy followed after him even as he forced himself to supress a smirk.

Still sitting amidst the churning crowd, Eurie watched Hans make his escape before calmly reaching for her tablet and selecting a contact number.

‘It’s done,’ she said. ‘The override chip I installed this morning worked perfectly. Vietmorr’s reputation is almost definitely ruined.’

‘Did you manage to recover the cylinder?’ a voice asked.

‘Our neuroboy had to make a crude job of removing it, but he has it.’

‘Perfect. We’ll see you this evening then. Enjoy the press.’

The communication went dead, and Eurie stored the tablet away again. Standing up, she walked down the stairs to the centre and towards the sliding doors. The patient’s screams could still be heard beyond. Yes, Vietmorr was most assuredly going to roll after today.

She looked at the deactivated android that was now hanging forward. It had not fallen over despite the chaos, and she walked forward to stand in front of it.

‘My gift to you Vietmorr,’ she whispered. ‘Made with love.’

 

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