Adam 2.0

"The LORD God said, 'It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.'...But for Adam, no suitable helper was found. So the LORD God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man’s ribs and then closed up the place with flesh.Then the LORD God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man."
---Genesis 2:18, 20-22


Adam was completely reconstructed within a few months.

I was jealous of his immortality. I wish my father had it. It made me angry that my father died in vain trying to save something that could be easily created again, with the same memory and progress as before--almost as if it were never destroyed at all.

But something was different about Adam's new version---Adam 2.0, they called him jokingly. He had a different quality in his eyes; those eyes my father slaved away to get rid of their lacklustre, robotic quality. This time at Eden Laboratories, where my father worked, the first time I went to see Adam in years, his eyes seemed more human from the windrow through which I watched him closely.

"He's seen death." One of the lab technicians, Will, told me, upon seeing my surprised response. "Right before he shut down, he saw your father die. He realized something: that people die. And when they do, they never come back. That seems to have changed his perspective on things."

I tried not to let these words sink in too much. They did a quick security check on me before they let me into Adam's room. I was expecting Will to introduce me or to place me in front of Adam so his sensors could detect my presence. But it seemed his intelligence had come a long way.

"Okay, you're clean." Will said, once the screening was over. "Just remember: don't mention anything about him being a robot."

"Why not?" I asked, smirking. "Does it upset him?"

"No." Will replied, annoyed at my apparent insolence. "He doesn't know he's a robot. The knowledge that he's not human could destroy everything he's become up to this point. Just pretend he's just another human person. That is of utmost importance."

"Okay, whatever." I rolled my eyes at how close they clung to Adam, as if he was some sort of miracle baby they had to protect their lives with. Before I could take a single step forward, I felt Will's iron grip clawing into my shoulders.

"Hey." He spat, sounding completely pissed. "Look at me. This isn't just an expensive toy you can mess around with. This was your father's entire legacy; it's all he left us. If you mention anything--just a single slip of the tongue--about him being a piece of metal, it could sabotage his entire memory system. Are we clear?"

I started at him, stunned. He didn't release my shoulder until I mumbled "Okay. I understand."

Will let out an exasperated sigh before unlocking the door to Adam's room and swinging the door open. Adam's room was not really a typical room. The walls were painted an immaculate white color, emphasizing the cleanliness with which they kept the labs. There was only a single window placed on the north wall, from which visitors and myself could observe him from the hall. There were a few oddly placed pieces of furniture (Adam had a habit of rearranging his room) and a bed in the far corner. A solved Rubik's cube, a handful of paintbrushes, and a stack of books lay on top of a mahogany desk placed in the middle of the room.

The moment my footsteps pattered on the white linoleum floor, Adam looked up at me, his eyes perfectly meeting mine, with a soft smile lighting up his face. His face was perfectly symmetrical in every way. His creation had been sponsored by a popular actor named Reese Levine, who said he'd pay my father a handsome amount of money if they designed Adam's face after his.

So that was why I was suddenly possessed with the feeling he was not a robot at all, but perhaps just an actor pretending to be a piece of machinery. What sort of intelligence could move so fluidly, find my eyes in the middle of an open space, and greet me with a warm smile? It was almost terrifying how human he seemed.

"Hello Dora." He said, genially. "I haven't seen you in ages."

My hands were shaking slightly. How was he able to recognize my face so quickly? How did he know my nickname? How did he know I was the same little girl from all those years ago?

There was a brief silence in which I tried to figure out what I wanted to say. And then I realized there was absolutely no words in my mind. I was speechless. His life-like quality had completely pulled my tongue out.

He tilted his head a little when I didn't say anything. "Do I frighten you?"

"A little." was all I could muster.

He grinned, showing a full set of immaculate white teeth. He had a nice smile, for something that was just a string of parts pulled together. "I get that a lot."

I allowed myself to laugh a little. Just pretend he's just another human person, I told myself. That's the only way you'll be able to get the information from him without being scared shitless.

It sort of broke my heart that he spent all his days in this room---it must have been so boring and--what am I thinking? He's a robot. He doesn't get bored...does he?

"What were you doing?" I asked evenly, noticing the paintbrushes on the desk behind him.

"Oh, that?" He said, turning to look behind him for a second. "I was painting."

"You paint?" I couldn't help but look around for a painting, but all I found was an abandoned and nearly trashed easel in the corner of the room.

"I like to paint walls." He confided, a strange smirk on his lips. "I tried to convince Will to let me paint my walls blue, like the ocean. But he wouldn't let me. So I decided to paint them myself, without seeking his advice."

I stared timidly at the still white walls. Perhaps there was a bug in his color recognition and--

"But I didn't want him to know." He further explained, moving towards an armchair placed awkwardly to the side. "So I painted it a bit here, and covered it with the furniture."

He pushed away the armchair, revealing a splash of pale green paint covering the walls in the perfect outline of an armchair. Inside this green armchair-shaped space was the perfect duplication of the Sistine Chapel ceiling in miniature. I suddenly looked back at the window to see if Will was seeing this.

"Don't worry about Will." Adam told me, pushing the armchair back. "That particular angle of incident from the window to this armchair hides it from view."

I felt dumbstruck. Normally, if this was an old friend saying and doing what Adam was saying and doing, I would have laughed. I would have praised their ingenuity. But once again, I felt a loss for words. He was simply...overwhelming.

I was so tempted to ask him who programmed him to disobey his superiors, but then I remembered---Adam doesn't even know what he is. He doesn't even understand how amazing he is. He doesn't understand that the normal, mundane, "human" things he's doing is nearly impossible for a robot like him. And in his revelation, I could understand why my father loved him so.

"Can I sit?" I asked, realizing I was still standing in the middle of the room like a deer in headlights. I had a feeling I was going to be here for a while.

"Of course!" He sang, incredulously. He gestured towards the armchair he’d just replaced. "I'm sorry I forgot my manners. You see, I prefer to stand."

And there he continued to stand as I took a seat. That was the only time I ever felt there was something off about him. But even his preferences in leisure positions seemed to convey him as a socially awkward young man than anything else.

"They don't let you out much, do they?" I asked, more to myself than to Adam.

Suddenly, Adam's face became incredibly animated. "They never do! You just came from the outside world, didn't you?"

Oh God, my heart could just break.

"Yes." I replied. "I did."

"Dr. Kaling told me about it all the time." He said, referring to my father. "He told me about what the sun feels like on your skin. And how the wind messes up your hair. Or what wet sand feels like between your toes. He told me a lot about you too."

"He did?" My head snapped up at him in anticipation. I wasn't sure why, but I'd always pictured my father would come here and simply tighten a screw here and there or perhaps stare at code for hours. I didn't expect him to sit and talk to Adam--and less likely, sit and talk to Adam about me, his unimpressive other child. But of course, how could he not talk to Adam? He seemed to bring people towards him, captivate them as if he was a magic show.

"He said you were like the sun. But you don't really look like a gaseous ball of fire. Maybe I heard him wrong."

I giggled. For the first time at something he'd said. "It's a simile" I explained. "It doesn't literally mean I'm the sun."

He frowned. "That's what he said it was too. But I don't really get similes. Will gave me all these stupid books to read"--he carelessly tossed his hand in the direction of the pile of books on his table--"because he thinks it will help me understand them better. But it's so boring."

Even the whining pitch in his voice was alarmingly life-like. If mimicking humans was the intent of his creation, then did he really do everything humans did? Did he eat? Did he pee? Did he sleep? Questions were slowly accumulating at the back of my head and I knew the moment I bumped into Will, I was going to pound him with questions.

The rest of the hour seemed to pass in seconds as we conversed back and forth after having "bonded" over our common hatred of reading. Adam was quite good at telling stories and mimicking people's voices and reactions---so good that by the end of the hour I was doubled over in laughter. Of course, mimicry was what he was built to do and he did it so well. And suddenly, before I even knew it was over, Will was knocking on the window, signalling me my time was up.

I froze in place. I had come here to demand answers about my father, to ask Adam what he was like, what he did here, how he lived his life. But I had spent the past hour talking about all sorts of things I didn't even know I could talk about with to a robot.

"Oh, it's time for you to go." Adam said, a sadness touching his words.

I pleaded with my eyes to Will to ask if I could stay longer, if I could ask what I had actually come here to ask. Will shook his head vehemently and I knew that meant a big fat NO.

"I guess so." I sighed. "But I'll come again. I wanted to ask about my father."

Adam's frown disappeared, replaced with a happy grin. "You'll come visit me again?"

"Yes." I said, standing up, and feeling amazed at how his features moved and changed so quickly. "I will, Adam."