The October Amaryllis

Chapter 6 - May 18th, 2220 - 10:47 A.M.

My first major surprise was that the breakfast lounge had more Androids in it than humans; they were telling jokes, doing tricks with the plates, and even discussing their thoughts on certain people. I had to know what they thought about uh... whatever his name was. It was my first day there, and I had already made an enemy. Sometimes I genuinely feel like the unluckiest person in history. I once read about this poor bastard who got struck by lightning seven times; to make it worse, he committed suicide. Since you're probably lazy as hell, I'll tell you his name; it was Roy Sullivan. Enjoy reading about him, you bloody yuppie. I'm off returning some videotapes.

"Good morning! Welcome to The Prometheus; how may I serve you today?" an Android of around my height cheerfully asked. His hazel-green eyes glowed like stars in the lamp's light. I could see the entire universe condensed in them. I regret not taking a picture.

"What's your opinion on the guy upstairs? He's got bright blue eyes and never sleeps," I nearly whispered out of fear that I might get heard somehow. He probably had cameras all over Arcadia, as far as I was concerned. He seemed exactly like the type of person who would become a dictator. It's always the paranoid ones that do.

"Oh well... he's not the most pleasant person I've met," the robot replied with a paranoid expression.

"I agree. Say, what are you made of?" I asked, tempted to poke its skin.

"My skin is made of silicone, and my innards run on a lithium-sulfur battery," it explained, tracing its skin and abdomen.

"No idea what that means, but that's cool! What do you guys have to eat here?" I asked with my stomach growling like a rabid dog.

"What food do you enjoy most?" it asked, attempting to smile.

"Uh... I don't have one. Do you have pancakes?"

"Why, of course! Our programming requires us to tell you that no wheat products in our assortment contain gluten. To lead a safe and productive future, we must look out for everyone. We have removed virtually all major allergens!" he said with a stretched smile the whole time. He looked as if they tortured him until he agreed to constantly smile like that one kid from Coraline. I honestly felt sorry for the robot; he was so close to being human, yet he was treated like dirt.

"That's great because peanut butter makes me go into anaphylaxis or whatever it's called. Say... how do you even remove allergens like in peanut butter?" I asked curiously.

"Great question! We use a straightforward process called post-transcriptional gene silencing, where we degrade certain messenger RNAs and reduce the expression of specific genes. In short, degrading the mRNA always results in a decreased gene expression," he said suddenly, without a smile.

I have no idea what he just said, but it sounds genius.

"Right... Can you get me some pancakes, orange juice, and maple syrup, please?" I asked, paranoid that the weird cyborg guy would wander in and ask me some more questions. Keeping a good cover was rapidly becoming virtually impossible, considering that I knew practically nothing about this place.

"Yes, sir, I will be back in approximately twelve seconds. If you feel that my service is inadequate, feel free to report me to my supervisor upstairs," he said, caught up in an expression that was somewhere between horror and joy.

"I won't; I promise," I said supportively, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you," he said as he ran at top speed to get my food. I expected him to bump into something or someone, but he instead dodged everyone with the agility of a cat. It was quite impressive watching his dedication to the craft of serving people. That's the thing with humans; you can't program passion in them.