“…The Council would like to say good morning to all citizens of Europa, and a heartfelt thank you to those who supported us in our cause…”

A clear, crisp voice announced through the public announcement system. Through the walls of his bedroom, Dr. Valm J. Stresemann can hear the muffled voice of the announcer, booming through the massive speakers mounted on poles.

It has been a week since the Progressive People’s Party overthrew their old government, and established a new group of men and women to better rule their city.

Led by the late and great Alexei Volkov, who was tragically killed in the coup, the revolutionaries stormed the capitol with the help of the army, and seized control of the city. Despite the death of their leader, the party didn’t seem to lose sight of their goal, and the first week of their rule has been nothing but turmoil.

No longer were surveillance cameras placed in every room of every building. No longer were the streets filled with agents and spies. People now had more freedom, more power, and more productivity to help with the war effort.

Their previous government had been too paranoid about their own people, spending resources and time to fight their own people, and not their enemies. Because of that, they began falling behind in the war, and so a new government had to come in and take over.

His phone dinged, so he tapped the screen to listen to the voice message which he had just received.

“Morning, Dr. Stresemann, I’m parked on the side of the street a little ways down the road from the gate. The gatekeeper informed me that I can’t park in front of the gate, so I had to go somewhere else, sorry for the inconvenience.”

That’s his personal chauffeur, Jenia, who was assigned to drive Valm everywhere he goes after The Council showed interest in his work. Though much younger than Valm himself is, Jenia is well mannered and generally a pleasant young man to be around.

Valm tapped the screen of his phone again. “That’s fine, I’ll be there in a minute.” He said, as he threw on his coat. The phone dinged, signaling to him that his reply message has been sent.

He went over to his work bag, thick with all the folders and files of the research he is working on, and looped it over his shoulder.

On the way to the door, he scooped up his phone and keys, then switched off the air conditioner. Being a scientist, he is rather aware of the importance of conserving the precious energy resources they have left.

The walk through the massive apartment block took a good while. Almost as big as an entire block, and several dozen stories high, apartments have become massive in order to house the growing population. Unlike their asian counterparts, their surrounding geology doesn’t allow their city to expand much beyond its current boundaries.

When he got to the crowded morning streets he looked left and right, and spotted the sleek, black car.

“Morning Dr. Stresemann.” Jenia said as Valm approached, holding the door open for him to enter.

“Morning.” Valm replied, setting his briefcase down upon the seat, then getting in the car after it.

Jenia shut the door gently, and walked around to the driver’s side. The door opened with a small clunk, and Jenia gracefully threaded himself into the driver’s seat with a fluidity expected from a good chauffeur. They set off quickly, the whirr of the car’s electric motor barely audible above the sound of rushing air.

The old, inefficient internal combustion engines have been done away with a long time ago, replaced by far more silent, efficient and mechanically simple electric motors. In fact, The Council had been thinking of doing away with drivers altogether, and making all cars self-driving.

“Have you heard that The Council wants to get rid of drivers?” Valm asked Jenia.

“Oh yeah?” Jenia said back, turning his head slightly while keeping his eyes on the road. “I think I saw that on the news yesterday.”

“Do you reckon it’ll actually happen?”

Jenia shrugged. “So far The Council has been keeping their promises. So… probably? All in the name of efficiency you know. Every single thing has to be optimized to the highest degree possible.”

“Are you not saddened by the fact that you’ll lose your job?”

“Of course not.” Jenia chuckled. “Without that sort of efficiency we’ll never win the war. And plus, by the time they actually make all cars autonomous I’ll probably be doing something else.”

“What else?”

“Aerospace engineer, hopefully. It’s my dream job, and it’s what I’ve been studying for my whole life.” Jenia paused for a moment. “Only problem is, I want to build spacecraft for civilian use. You know, exploring the cosmos, colonizing other planets, all that stuff which was going on right before the war started. But they don’t want civilian stuff, they only care about military stuff.”

“Because we are fighting a war right now.”

“Sure we are… It’s been going on for what? Like… more than fifty years now? Not a single bomb has fallen in my entire lifetime, and I haven’t seen a single enemy soldier outside of propaganda posters. Sure it’s a war, but that’s just because they haven’t signed a peace deal yet.”

Valm nodded silently. Their previous government had held their enemies at a stalemate for a long long time. After the first several years of fighting, the war cooled down. Though the armed conflict did not fully seize, neither city had the resources for constant raids on each other.

Their previous government focused a lot on defense. An intricate, interlocking system of anti-air missile launchers, lasers, jammers, and close-in weapon systems for shooting down enemy aircraft and missiles. The long-wave radar stations set up every kilometer along their perimeter wall ensured that no object in the sky, no matter how stealthy, could evade detection. The air force has largely phased out long range strike aircraft, in favor of shorter range interceptors and air superiority fighters.

But now, with The Council in power, that was about to change. The Council had promised to win the war for the people. They had promised to use new technologies to turn the tide in their favor. And if they are to stick to that promise, the apparent time of peace they have now will soon turn to violence once more.

“But you know what The Council said, right?” Valm asked. “That they’ll turn the war around, and destroy New Asia.”

“Of course.”

“You know that, if that happens, bombs will start falling once more."

“…Yeah…”

The rest of the short drive to his laboratory was quiet. Jenia and Valm exchanged few words, except to bid each other nice day when Valm got out at his destination.

Valm watched from the sidewalk as Jenia drove away down the road.

He shook his head.

Young men like Jenia haven’t seen what it’s like when missiles fly and bombs fall. They weren’t alive back then to witness it.

Unlike Valm, most people weren’t alive when the war had just started, when those atomic bombs laid waste to the cities.

He was just an elementary school kid back then, yet he still remembers clearly. The atmosphere had been gloomy for many many months, talks of war seemed to be the subject of every conversation the adults had. But he was too young back then to understand the implications. It was not until the sirens started blaring, and the skies were ripped open by the explosions, did he truly understand.

It was a clear Sunday afternoon, Valm and his family were walking at the park when the sirens started to blare. People began panicking, and his memories after that became a jumbled mess. Somehow, people knew that it wasn’t a drill.

He remembers them piling into the family car, a large off-road SUV, stocked full of MREs and tubs of water, and speeding down the streets towards somewhere. They got far enough away, that the shockwave of the blast couldn’t reach them, and their car was able to shield them from the thermal radiation. But they couldn’t outrun the fallout.

They were stuck for hours on a packed highway, slowly trudging their way east, when the fallout began to drift down from the skies. Like blackened snow flakes the radioactive dust fell, slowly covering everything in its deadly blanket. His father was a nuclear engineer, and knew that if they didn’t get away, they would soon die of radiation poisoning.

He remembers his father telling everyone to hug a tub of water, and to squeeze themselves as far down the footwell as they could, into the protection of the metal side panels of their car. Then he floored the gas pedal, drove over the guardrails, and began speeding east over the grasslands.

Other cars saw, and did the same too. And soon, the grassy plains became the highway. Like some sort of off-roading event, thousands of cars sped through the tall grass, kicking out mud and dirt behind them, like marauding tanks in a green desert.

Over the next year or so, they went from town to town, anywhere which escaped destruction, seeking shelter and food. People feared a land invasion from the east, but that never happened. People waited for relief from their American brothers, but that too never came.

When the city of Europa was established at the western foot of the Alps, their family was one of the first settlers to arrive there. Valm watched with his own eyes, as the city rapidly expanded to what it is now. Along with New Asia, they must have been the most ambitious construction projects humanity has ever undertaken. In just two years, the massive perimeter walls had been erected, and in just two more, the city had completely filled the space inside.

While the fear of further destruction loomed over them, life was peaceful. Valm graduated high school and attended a university set up by the European government. But the radiation he and his family received during their escape came back to haunt them. Both his father and mother developed aggressive cancer, and died within a year. Valm thought he too would meet the same fate, but apparently his young body was able to repair itself.

Even with the medical technologies they had at the time, there was little anyone could do. There isn’t much to do in the face of the invisible poison of nuclear radiation.

Because of that, Valm swore to pursue a career in biology, so he can fix that problem, and make the world a safer place for people to live in. He hoped he could allow people to go back to their homes, and start rebuilding the world. However, people didn’t want that. No one wanted to go back to ruined cities and poisoned towns.

And so, after graduating university, Valm began conducting research in the fields of biomechanics and cloning, as a possible remedy to the plummeting fertility rates due to the increased levels of background radiation.

Valm snapped out of his thoughts and realized he had been standing on the sidewalk unmoving for a little bit too long. Hastily he turned and walked towards the entrance to his new laboratory, kindly provided to him by The Council after they took interest in his work.

The minimalist glass doors leading to the entrance of his lab slid open as he approached. There are no big logos, no words explaining what this place is, and no fancy reception area. There is no need for such advertising, since they are funded by The Council with a decent budget.

“Good morning, Dr. Stresemann.” A young man, standing in front of a coffee maker with several mugs in his hands, greeted Valm as he turned the corner.

“Morning, Jasper.” Valm nodded to the young man, one of his many subordinate researchers. In fact, all the people who worked at this lab are his subordinates, since he is the senior researcher here. “You got here quite early today.”

“Yes, doctor.” Jasper answered eagerly, picking up another mug of freshly made coffee with his pinky. “We wanted to fix the gas-deposit printing head misalignment problems in the morning to conduct a full scale printing test later today, so the team got up extra early today.”

Valm looked at the many mugs of coffee precariously hanging from Jasper’s fingers, which are probably for the team working in the adjacent room. “You know…” he couldn’t help but laughing a little. “I appreciate you guys’ eagerness, but I’d prefer if you got some more rest. Young minds like your’s can really use that extra rest.”

Jasper smiled. “Yes, doctor, I’ll keep that in mind.” He said respectfully as he hurriedly crab walked towards the door leading to the adjacent room, careful not to spill any of the hot coffee.

Valm followed the young man into the spacious testing hall, where a group of a dozen or so young men and women were crowding around a large mass of shiny metal, tubes, valves, cables, and pumps. Some of them had screw drivers and wrenches, while others had laptops and tablets, hooked up to the machine through thick bundles of wiring.

“Doctor is here!” Jasper announced as he walked around the machine and handed everyone a mug of coffee.

Valm himself didn’t get a mug, since Jasper knew that he doesn’t like coffee, and so didn’t bother with offering him one.

The flurry of activity stopped briefly as everyone greeted Valm and sipped their coffee. But quickly the activity resumed, and the steaming mugs were left still half-full on the floor.

“Don’t leave your drinks lying around!” Valm reminded them. “Any spill has the potential to be disastrous.”

Once again the flurry of activity stopped briefly as everyone shouted “Yes, doctor!” And carefully transported their mugs to a table at the corner of the hall.

The machine they were crowing around a moment ago is the center of Valm’s research, a state-of-the-art bio-printer, capable of producing artificially created organisms like never before. Instead of carefully plotting down cells and growing them into the rough shapes desired, this printer deposits individual atoms one by one, allowing it to create things as precise as individual DNA strands.

“How’s the calibration going?” Valm asked.

“We have gotten the deposit success rate up to almost thirteen percent.” Emily, one of the more experienced researchers answered. “With an acceptable error rate of ten percent of normal tissue, five percent for organs, and point-one percent for DNA, that means we should be able to produce one viable human baby every 32 hours.”

“And if we fine-tune those boundaries?”

“We could probably reduce that time down to below 24 hours while maintaining a success rate above 95%, but I’m not confident about going any lower.”

Valm nodded. “We only need the alignment error low enough for one run, so don’t try to get it absolutely perfect. I want the machine adjusted and ready for a full production cycle before midday. Is that doable?” He asked the room.

“Yeah..?”

“Should be.”

“I think we can do that.”

Many murmurs of words rose up from the researchers.

“Good. Report to me whenever you think you are ready. Emily, you’ll be in charge for now. Jasper, show me the images you phoned me about last night.”

“Yes, doctor.” Jasper and Emily said at the same time.

*****

The Council’s officials are late.

Valm stood by the glass doors, pacing back and forth.

An hour ago he received a phone call about a tour of his lab. He told the official that they were going to conduct their first full scale test run today, and that something could go quite horribly wrong, but they insisted on coming.

Finally the entrance doors slid open, and Valm heard the clanking of fine leather shoes against the tiled floor.

A young man turned the corner, dressed in a fancy business suit, with a little badge pinned on the collar.

“Hello, Dr. Stresemann,” The man said, sticking his hand out for a handshake. “Hector,” he introduced himself with a smile.

“Valm,” Valm said in return, giving the man a firm handshake. “I was expecting a few more people.”

“Ah, yeah, we are currently very very busy and short on people, so I was the only person who had the time to come.”

“You know if you people are that busy we could re…”

“No no, it’s alright,” Hector cut Valm off before he could finish, “The Council demands it to be today.”

“Very well then,” Valm sighed. “Follow me please.”

He led the man through the corridors and into the testing hall, where the massive printer sat, ready for it’s first full-scale test run.

Dozens of young researchers littered the hall, conducting final checks before the test run.

“Everyone!” Valm called out, “This is Hector, an agent for The Council, and he will be observing our test run today.”

Emily, standing nearest to Valm and Hector, gave the agent a curt nod. She liked the new governing body more than the previous, but believed their claims and promises to be far too outlandish.

Hector raised his hand, and gave the room a respectful wave. “Pleasure to be here.”

“Alright, everyone, let’s head to the control room and get this test underway.”

“Yes, doctor.”

They made their way to the control room, a room one floor above, filled with displays and projector screens, and a massive window to offer an unobstructed view into the testing hall.

All of the screens and displays are up and running, filled with graphs and numbers, and simulated views of the machine. Valm is impressed by how quickly the junior researchers had gotten all the sensors hooked up and ready to go.

Though the printer produced a myriad of readings and outputs they had to monitor when running, most of it are handled by computers, putting the data through a complex sequence of processing before presenting it to the researchers. As such, the actual need for someone to be constantly watching the numbers is minimal.

Most of the junior researchers went over to the window to watch the printer, while only a few sat down in front of control panels to monitor the most important of the readings.

“Let’s get the show started.” Valm called out. “Start gas injection and the printing cycle.”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Yes, doctor.”

Buttons were pressed and switches were flicked, as the machine began whirring and the sound of pressurized gas being released emanated from the testing hall.

Valm stood at the back of the room, overseeing the action and watching the test through projected views of cameras. Hector stood beside him, looking around curiously at all the instruments.

“So… what exactly does this thing do?” Hector asked Valm quietly as to not disturb the other researchers. “Pardon my ignorance, my superiors really didn’t tell me much before sending me here.”

“Well, this machine uses…” Valm began, but was immediately cut off by Hector.

“Don’t tell me how it works, just tell me what it does.”

Valm smiled. “It produces humans.”

“Produces humans?”

“Or anything, in fact, anything that’s organic.” Valm explained. “We are hoping to use this technology to help fill in the drop in birthrate due to radiation.”

“And how long does it take to make one person?”

“Right now,” Valm thought, running the math quickly in his mind. “On average, it can produce one viable human baby every twenty-five hours. In the future that time can be reduced much further, potentially half of the time it takes right now. The machine can also be downsized a lot, meaning that a factory of ten machines can easily produce twenty people everyday.”

“Impressive.” Hector muttered, stroking his chin. “And, say, if I wanted to make not a baby, but a full grown adult, would that be possible?”

Valm thought for a bit. “Potentially yeah, but we’ll need blueprints of important parts of the body, such as the brain.”

“Blueprints?”

“Yes. Current technologies still struggles to understand how the brain and consciousness works. So, we just simply replicate the brain atom by atom, completely identical to a properly functioning brain. But to do that, we need a blueprint of a brain accurate down to the very last atom.”

“And uhh… what does that mean?”

“We need, an actual brain, which is functioning and alive, to take the blueprint from. However, the process is destructive, so whoever the person we take the blueprint from, they will not survive.”

“We can provide you with the subjects.” Hector said, turning to look at Valm.

“You don’t mean that…” Valm began to ask. A sense of uneasiness coming over him.

Hector patted him on the shoulder. “You mustn’t worry, doctor.” He reassured him. “I must go now, there are other business I have been called to attend to.”

“Alright, have a good day.” Valm said as Hector stepped through the door.

“You too, doctor,” Hector replied. “Oh, by the way, you’ll probably hear from The Council in a day or two, we have big visions for your tech.”

Then he went out the door, closing it behind him.

The test proceeded without a hitch through the afternoon, past the evening, and into the next day. By nightfall of the next day, everyone was running almost purely on caffeine, something they’ve all grown accustomed to at this point.

At exactly 32 hours since printing started, the machine wound down, and the readings on their displays ceased to change.

“Printing has finished, doctor.” Emily informed Valm, “Vital signs is normal and brain activity seems to be working fine.”

Through a camera mounted inside the printing chamber, Valm could see the outline of a human infant, still hooked up to the tubes and cables, serenely sucking on the thumb of his tiny hand. The entire room was frozen in awe, intently staring at the large display.

The little boy was retrieved from the machine, wrapped in many layers of blankets, and brought over carefully to an awaiting ambulance, with an army of researchers following after it.

Their eyes all seemed to glimmer through their tired eyelids, as they excitedly hopped up and down to get a glimpse of the baby. When the little thing opened its mouth and gave a little baby cry, many had tears in their eyes.

They had made an agreement with a hospital already, that if the test were to be successful, the child would be taken into their care, and be sent for adoption once they made sure that he is a normal, functioning human.

The ambulance didn’t bother to put on its lights, and drove away without hurry. The baby was asleep, and they didn’t want to disturb it.

Soon the ambulance disappeared into the sea of cars, and the researchers headed back inside.

Valm gathered everyone in the testing hall, as they often did after a major test.

“So, all done.” He addressed the room. “As far as we can tell right now, the baby is viable and healthy. Brain activity is basically as expected, perhaps slightly more than usual.”

Quiet cheers and giggles rose up from the listening researchers.

“And now, data collection and processing.” Valm announced, a little smirk on his face.

Loud moans and booing rose up from the listening researchers.

“I’m just kidding.” Valm laughed. “We can leave that until next week. For now, get some well deserved sleep.”

The researchers began to stand up.

“And!” Valm shouted, halting the researchers in their strides. Then he pulled out a little stack of red tickets. “I have booked out a very nice restaurant for tomorrow night, enough seats for every body here. Of course, you don’t need to come if you don’t want to, it’s more food to split among the rest of us.” He joked, smiling. “Come here, and get a reservation ticket. Don’t be late!”

The researchers cheered and wooed, and lined up to get a ticket each. Even through their tiredness, they were laughing and joking with each other.

After everyone had left, Valm stood in the testing hall alone, looking at the massive machine in front of him. The full scale test run has used up most of their gas tanks, and so they would have to wait a few days for new supplies of those to come in. In the mean time, the printer would sit there quietly, unmoving.

The next few days passed as usual. The dinner party was great, and everyone left slightly tipsy and full with delicious food. Data collection showed no major problems, and all readings were basically as they expected. The hospital phoned too, and told them that they had named the baby Adam, because, in a way, he is the first “human”.

But somehow, Valm always had an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Hector’s words still remained in his mind.

What did he mean by “provide you with the subjects.”? He didn’t mean that, perhaps, he’d take actual people, and kill them for the sake of my research? Maybe if they were on death row? Or had committed crimes heinous enough for them to be considered disposable?

And plus, why does he want us to produce adults anyway? The ethical concerns for doing that would far outweigh the benefits. Plus, the learning phase the brain goes through as a child is vital for its proper development. An adult can be printed with the knowledge needed, but be unable to access them, since the brain hadn’t learned how to do so.

Unless, the doctor thought, we get enough different blueprints, that a one-to-one replication will result in enough diversity.

But that thought terrified him, so he decided to forget about it and go to sleep. But before he had a chance to even climb onto his bed, his phone rang.

It’s Hector.

“Hello? Doctor?” The familiar voice said through the phone.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“Hi, sorry to bother you so late. But The Council wants to schedule a meeting with you tomorrow. Would 10AM exact be okay?”

“I’m sorry but…”

“Sorry, doctor, I’m afraid this is an offer you can’t turn down. Stand-in council leader Nikita himself offered to arrange the meeting.”

Valm cursed in his mind. “…Okay… I see. Sure, 10AM is fine.”

“Great. We’ll be at your lab by 9:50, please arrange a quiet room and perhaps some coffee. The Council has requested the contents of the meeting to be kept confidential, and guards will be stationed outside the door. Any attempt to record and distribute contents of the meeting will be met with harsh reprimands.”

“Okay…” Valm muttered.

“Good night, doctor.”

Then the phone hung up.

*****

The door closed, and the footsteps faded down the hallway.

Valm was left there alone at the makeshift conference table.

A document lay on the table before him. In bold font across the front, are inscribed the words “The Use of Artificial Humans in Warfare”.

The meeting had finished already, and Valm was now the lead researcher in the development of artificial soldiers for warfare.

Though not outright stated, he was given no choice but to accept that position. In return, his lab would receive almost unlimited supplies and resources and funding.

Not only did it offer Valm and his fellow researchers a, perhaps not filthy rich, but nonetheless wealthy life. Their research would also receive unlimited funding, allowing them to expand in whatever direction they wanted. No longer would their ambitions and passion be bounded by mere economics, and only by their ingenuity and technology. In addition, they can also directly contribute to the war effort, and secure a victory for their city.

Yet, every time Valm casted eyes upon the document before him, he would feel his blood run cold.

He spent his entire life creating a technology to give people happiness, and now it was going to be used for war, to bring suffering upon people.

“If we don’t use this technology, then we’ll lose, and our people will die, doctor.” Nikita had told him. “Pick your side, doctor, and pick it wisely.”

But somehow it still didn’t sit right in his head.

Then the door creaked open, and Jasper poked his head in.

“How was…” he began to ask, but stopped when he saw Valm’s downcast expression. “…not very good, I’d assume.”

Valm nodded.

“Are they going to pull our funding?”

Valm shook his head.

“Then what?”

Valm sighed, and stood up. “I’ll have to call a meeting. Gather everyone in the testing hall.”

“Su…sure…” Jasper stammered, before hurrying out of the conference room.

The meeting with his junior researchers was filled with silence. Though no one openly opposed the idea, no one seemed to really like it either. But of course, like all good citizens, they were willing to sacrifice a little for their city’s own good.

“Following the roadmap in the document, we will begin trial production runs form next week. The printer will need to be moved to one side of the hall, and the other side needs to be converted into a unit testing chamber. The exact details will be shared with you later.” Valm informed everyone. “As of right now, the project is classified.”

The meeting was adjourned with no questions being asked, and since then, the atmosphere in the laboratory was never quite the same.

For weeks afterwards, their lab became an almost foreign place. The testing hall was completely renovated and expanded. Many many new faces joined their work force, including a separate team of dozens or so workers responsible for conducting tests on the printed units.

Although it took a long time, but the original homeliness of their lab slowly returned.

Valm’s team focused mainly on developing and improving their printer. The Council had done their best to give them the best supply of mechanics and machinists, so that if they needed anything, a perfectly machined and polished part would be delivered to them in a matter of hours.

With the added pressure and resources, their progress sped up exponentially. The first prototype of the printer had already been scrapped, and the second prototype now sat where the first used to be.

And so, things went on, day after day. Their technology has now far exceeded what Valm had originally envisioned, and is quickly becoming something that would change the world forever.

*****

The boy stood in the center of the white testing chamber, facing a computer screen propped up on a stand.

His white uniform was drenched in sweat, and his hands were shaking uncontrollably.

Images flashed across the screen, images which he did not know the meaning of.

Yet something seemed to be tugging at him, crushing him between its fingers.

Then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, the screen switched off. The invisible chains tying him to the spot seemed to loosen, and the coldness down his back seemed to ease a little.

He soothed his rapid breathing, and reached up to pull off the bothersome electrodes attached to his head.

Then he felt a slight prick in his neck, and the room went dark. His legs gave out below him, and he slipped out of consciousness as his body hit the floor.

“Fear conditioning test no. 27. Outcome: success.”

The tension in the observation room, hidden from the testing chamber behind a broad one-way glass window, unwound itself. The researchers had finally succeeded in “programming” fear into a unit’s brain. Little cheers and clapping filled the room.

Valm clapped along too, even though he just wanted to leave.

For the past many many months, he had watched “test subjects”, as the others called them, in the bleak white testing hall, with cables and wires attached to them, tortured in one way or another. Sometimes the tests were humane enough, but sometimes Valm could hardly bare to stand in the control room.

In those many many months, they had produced many many, sometimes inhuman, things too. They made things with superhuman strength, things with more arms than there should be, things that can rival supercomputers in logical decisions. But alas The Council decided against these more outlandish experiments, calling them too “inhumane” and “unethical”.

So they settled on a slightly less dramatic modification for the new soldiers. Instead of messing too much with the body, they would just make slight changes to their brains. Changes that are slight enough to make them natural warriors, but not enough to be “unethical”.

Many times he questioned why he was still there, working on the project, and he has yet to find an answer.

But he did decide on one thing. That when the project was finished, he would go somewhere nobody can find. A place where his expertise would never see the light of day.

He left the control room, and headed to his office to finish writing the last part of his report.

“The optimum production cycle has been determined to be a physical age of 10 from the printer, and an accelerated developmental and training course up to age 16, before the soldiers can be put into service. A physical age too old has the negative effect of giving the brain less time to adapt and produce it’s own neural networks, vital in problem solving, critical thinking, and learning. Although we cannot eliminate the learning phase the brain goes through during a person’s childhood, we can largely reduce the time it takes. Our research has determined that 6 years or less is more than enough to produce soldiers meeting, or exceeding the level of competence of current human soldiers. Though manipulation of the brain has been successfully conducted, dramatic alterations are advised against as the process is difficult and can produce many unwanted side effects. The reliability of these modifications also seem to degrade over longer periods of time, as the brain seems to repair itself. Because of this, we recommend soldiers produced using printers to be put out of service before the age of 18, at which time modifications will show visible signs of degradation.”

Valm barely finished writing the last line, before there was a knock on his door, and a well dressed man, not wearing a lab coat, stepped into his room.

“Hi, Dr. Stresemann.” The man greeted him. “I heard that the test was a success?”

“Yeah…”

“But you don’t seem to be in that good of a mood?”

“Well… I guess not.”

“I’m aware that you have openly opposed our decision to use artificial soldiers. But, Dr. Stresemann, it’s not about what you think, it’s about what we need.” The man spoke in a monotonous voice. “After your retirement The Council will make sure any health disorders associated with your research will be more than compensated for.”

“They better.”

The man sneered, and leaned in close. “You know, even if you manage to escape to New Asia, your tech won’t be used on anything good.”

Valm didn’t answer.

“Since the project is almost complete,” the man chuckled. “If I were you, I’d just make it through the next few days, and apply for health-related retirement as soon as it’s over.”

“Retirement… you say?”

“Yeah.” The man nodded. Then he stood back up, and made his way to the door. “Don’t try anything funny, doctor.” The man said, not turning around. “We’re keeping a close eye on you.”

And then he closed the door behind him, leaving Valm alone in his office.

That night, Valm didn’t return to his house. Instead, he stayed over at friend’s place, on the other side of the city.

Jenia had dropped him off in front of his compound, and so he hopped on a public bus, and sat through the half hour journey, looking out at the brightly lit city.

“I haven’t seen you this… troubled in a long time.” His friend, Hayley, told him. “Something not going well with your research?”

“Well… yeah…” Valm sighed, sitting across the table from Hayley.

Hayley had cooked him a generous meal of roasted chicken and potato mash, despite Valm’s impromptu visit, which Valm wolfed down in a matter of minutes.

He met Hayley back in university, when they worked together for a group project. Even though Hayley later became a biomechanics engineer and part time writer, they still visit each other quite often.

“Wanna tell me about it?” Hayley inquired.

Valm sighed again, and began to talk about all the happening at his lab. About the project to use artificial soldiers. About the tests they conducted on those who walked out of the printer. About the plans for super-soldiers, and how those were eventually scrapped.

“Is it not a noble cause for your invention to be fighting for our city?” Hayley asked after Valm finished talking. “To fight in place of real people?”

“What makes us more real than them?”

“Then who?”

“The ones who walk out of the printers. What makes them less human than us.”

“Well…” Hayley thought for a moment. “I guess you are right.”

Valm nodded.

“So what are you going to do now? Since the project is pretty much finished.” Hayley asked, getting up and grabbing a beer from the fridge. He offered Valm one, which he gladly accepted.

“I want to disappear.” Valm said, wiping the beer foam from his mouth. “Go somewhere no one can find.”

“That place doesn’t exist. Well, except for death, I guess.”

“Death isn’t enough.” Valm put down the empty bottle and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t want my physical body to even remain. Merely purging the mind is not enough.”

“Well then… perhaps…” Hayley smiled. “Why not go down a more romantic route.”

“How so?”

“I’ don’t know. But you’re the mad scientist, no?”

“Yeah…?”

“At least make it more interesting that just jumping off a building. Nobody likes a predictable ending like that.”

Valm stared at Hayley blankly for a moment, then laughed. “You sure are a romanticist, aren’t you?”

Hayley spread his arms out. “I’m just a guy who likes writing stories in his spare time.”

“Won’t you miss me?”

“Of course I will. But it seems that keeping you here only makes you suffer more. Perhaps your mind will persist after your physical form is gone, who knows? If that is the case, do come pay me a visit, maybe in my dreams.”

“Maybe… maybe I will.”

“But hey, it’s all up to you. People call you a genius for a reason, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Valm thanked Hayley for the meal, and left his house. He barely made the last bus, and sat the half hour journey back to his own house, looking out at the now slightly less brightly lit city, thinking over the words that Hayley had told him.

As he approached the entrance to his housing compound, he noticed a group of soldiers standing around it. Valm slowed his steps, and observed the men from afar.

They all wore badges on their coats, identifying them as agents of The Council. A paralyzing coldness came over Valm when he realized they were probably there for him. He had not gone home for too long, and The Council has gotten suspicious.

Valm closed his eyes and rolled a mental dice in his mind, one which he had been rolling more and more often lately. When it bounced to a stop, he made up his mind.

He turned around and began walking the opposite way, stopping to call a taxi after turning a corner. The taxi took him to his lab, dark and asleep at such a late time. During the most chaotic days of the project, his lab would never be dark at anytime during any day.

The face scanner quickly identified his face, and the locked doors slid open. He decided to not switch on the lights, and simply walked down the dark hallways, barely able to see with the light leaking in through the small windows.

His feet automatically carried him to the testing hall, where he stopped before the massive printer, ghostly lit up by the shine from the city outside. He walked over to the control panel, which powered on as soon as he gave it a gentle tap.

The adjustments to the code and blueprints are simple, and took just a few minutes. He had finally figured it out on the bus journey back. He had figured out how he could, just maybe, turn back all the bad things he had done. And how he could escape to a place where no one would ever find him.

He really is a genius.

Then the doctor found a piece of paper and a pen, and began to write.

I have planted... a seed... I guess you could call it. It’s not a seed really, but when the time comes, it’ll sprout like one. It’s formless, shapeless, massless, intangible until it manifests. It’s woven into the consciousness of them, completely undetectable even if you tried looking for it. But it’s there. I made sure that it will be. They said you can’t manipulate the brain, but I did, and I made it work.

But despite its ingenuity, I have not the ability to choose the precise time that seed sprouts, even the number of “units” produced will greatly affect that time. But through simple statistical calculations, I have determined that it will most likely be between twenty and sixty years from now. And I can only pray that when it happens, it will be the “right” time.

When that seed sprouts, it will be the greatest plant to ever grow. One “unit” will awaken, then, like ripples in a calm lake, those around them will awaken too. Like an undersea megathrust, the wave it generates will spread and expand, gaining power and energy, until alas all is overwhelmed.

And what exactly will awaken?

That, I do not know the exact answer to. Perhaps you can call it their sentience, but that word is hard to describe and understand. Perhaps it is their ability to question the rules that I have coded into their being. But anyhow, things will change. The Council will no longer be able to oppress them, no longer be able to use them like mere “units”. Maybe they won’t be free, but they’ll be alive.

And when that time comes, I can only bid you, living clone no. 1, the best of luck in your revolution. I know not what you will do, but I trust that it will be the right thing.

But now, I’ll have to destroy this paper. It’ll take it with me into the printer, and let it evaporate mine and this paper’s existence so entirely the only way to recover it is to turn back time itself. I have modified it to do the reverse of what it was built for, and destroy the very person who created it.

My students know none of this. I shall not ruin the lives of those young men and women. I wish not to be a hero, but I just have to do this one selfish act.

Maybe it’s cowardice, maybe it fear. But I don’t think the cause I’m working towards is a cause I’d want to live to see. Maybe because all those who matter to me died a long time ago.

I do not want to make it look like a suicide. I want it to look like nothing at all. Like I vanished into thin air. Suggestions can often be dangerous, but a complete lack of knowledge is often harmless. They’d have nothing to go off of, nothing to investigate, nothing to find.

I’ll probably be remembered as an idiot who tried to oppose The Council, a misdirected man who tried to curb the advancement of man kind, but that’s alright. It’ll be the greatest mystery of all time. How a man, cornered in his lab, wanted by the entire city, disappeared without a trace.

The printer is ready, I’ll step into it soon.

I feel like I can hear their cars and helicopters at the door.

Like an old poem I've read.

“O it’s broken the lock and splintered the door, o’ it’s the gate where they’re turning, turning;

Their boots are heavy on the floor and their eyes are burning.“

After he finished writing, he folded up the paper, and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he unpinned a badge from his coat, one which his father gave to him a long time ago. One which, even now, he refused to damage or destroy. He cleaned it, and gently set it down in front of the printer.

Then he tapped the control panel, selecting a piece of code that would be wiped after a single run, and stepped into the printing chamber.

He closed his eyes, and leaned his head back, as the access doors sealed shut.

*****

Emily quietly stepped through the door leading to the testing hall. The massive printer sat there, the same as ever.

The soldiers had come through already, but all left when they couldn’t find Dr. Stresemann anywhere, and she had managed to sneak in before the investigators got there.

She walked over to the front of the machine, and found a small, golden badge of a flaming firebird sitting on the floor. It’s the doctor’s badge, one which he wore everyday.

It smelled faintly of acetone, probably because the doctor cleaned it to get rid of his fingerprints.

She chuckled to herself.

How smart, she thought.

Then she looked around the otherwise empty hall. The doctor has vanished, seemingly without a trace.

But she knows what he did. She too, is at least half a genius.

She couldn’t help but smile as she looked up at the massive machine in front of her.

Sitting there, the same as ever.