Stories

Age of Androids Short Stories

So we have this new editor here at the rag.  He's on my case about getting my articles in on time, not having too many typpos (hah, there's another one) and other stuff.  Typical editorial bs.  They have to act busy or else they get fired from one of the honchos upstairs.  He also says I need to lighten up a bit.  Ignore mode: ON

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It was the third annniversary of the Model X experiment. Our task of observing X29 continued on, with little fanfare to that day.  The local Model time was set at a ratio of 10K to 1;  for every 1 day that passed here on our macro planet, 10,000 days passed on the micro model.

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The first time the lights turned on, he remembered a surge of panic coursing through his chest, leaving him to shake with nerves and some sort of nonphysical cold…dread, probably, if he had a word for it back then.
It shone so brightly that he had to resist the urge to slap his eyes closed and bury his head under his arms, as many of his brothers had.

 

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Floyd removed his thin silver-rimmed glasses and rubbed his eyes. The single lamp that sat upon his desk cast shadows upon a chaotic work area littered with papers and random robotic parts.   It was the end of another fourteen hour day and Floyd had finally figured out why his previous prototypes had failed.

 

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The earthman gawked in horror at the spectacle that he was witnessing from the observation deck of the Taletherian spaceship. Don Larson’s feet and wrists were bound and he was spread in an ‘x’ formation; electrodes had been attached to his head. He could not believe what he was seeing.

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