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FEEL (standard:science fiction, 429 words)
Author: MehulAdded: May 03 2002Views/Reads: 3282/1Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
an android....with feeling?
 



The smoke pours out of my nostrils as I run around frantically, looking
everywhere for the screwdriver. Something is wrong, very wrong. My 
right hand shakes uncontrollably, my fingers vibrate rapidly. I look 
around in desparation, though I don't know why. I don't feel pain, but 
its human to panic. I bet they feel pain, feel themselves suffering. 
But I have to stop the smoke. What would they say if they saw me like 
this? I tear my shirt open and with a jerk, push out my abdomen unit. I 
unscrew the plate covering the wiring, and then I see it. A simple 
fault, the green wire crossed over the red one. I pull them apart, and 
fix them in place. The smoke stops slowly, and my artificial 
respirators cough themselves into action. The image of my maker flashes 
into my memory. “What an idiot”, I think. I'll sue him. I'm not angry. 
But its human to sue. So I'll sue. For now, there's work to do. 

*	*	* 

The rattling stretcher rushes through the desolate corridors as the man
in the white coat pushes it frantically, constantly glancing at the 
injured victim. She's young, and hurt very badly. A car accident, thats 
what they told him. He pushes the stretcher through the door of the 
operation theater, and shouts out orders to the nurse. In a hurry, 
instruments are gathered, the e.c.g. started. It starts beeping softly, 
the green pulse following a slight pattern and then fading out 
constantly. The beeps are closely spaced, showing the girl's heart 
sruggling to live. The man skillfully thrusts the surgical scalpel into 
the girl's abdomen, finding the damaged artery. The body jerks for a 
second, then calms down as the anesthesia takes effect. Suddenly, the 
beeps become more regular, and the girl's breathing becomes more 
forced. The man's concentration is unaffected; his eye glints as he 
makes a cut in the right place. The beeping is growing louder by the 
second. He is about to make the crucial incision when the exhausted 
heart lets go and the last breath escapes from the girl's nostrils. The 
beep becomes constant and the green pulse on the e.c.g. becomes a slow 
moving line. The man glances up, and the image of her maker flashes 
into his memory. He looks at her deathly still body, and his logic 
circuits spit out a mass of confused thoughts to his speech unit. “You 
had better sue your maker”, he says nonchalantly. He removes his white 
coat, exposing his torn shirt, and walks out of the room. 


   


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