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The black and white film was projected from a monitor, as I stood in a long, empty room. Displayed in the room was the footage of a young man. He was tall and lean, with light brown hair. He was dressed in a suit and tie. And, he was staring at the painting of the man through the large window that dominated the room.
“This is the image-capturing system,” said Dr. Carrigal. “The system records the scene as you view it and then transfers that image to a computer. Then, we run advanced facial recognition on the footage. The end result is a life-like three-dimensional representation of the subject. It has worked very well for us, so far.”
“How accurate is the representation?” I asked.
“It is in hundreds of thousands,” he said. “But, you must remember that we are still very much in the development stages. If we put this project on the market, there will undoubtedly be a reproduction error until we can make all the bugs disappear.”
“I understand,” I said.
“So, what do you think?” asked the doctor.
“It is amazing,” I said.
We moved to the side of the room and a model of the recording apparatus sat on a table. A man, dressed as a typical 20th-century scientist, stood next to the model. He smiled and said, “You think this is impressive?”
The image that the recording device captured was projected onto the model. It was a disturbing thing to behold. The skin of the model was stretched tautly across his face, causing his mouth to move slightly. His head was mounted on a neck that had the appearance of a gargoyle. His fingers were bony and skeletal, but they were still at the ends of his arms. His eyes were large, dark and empty and didn’t blink. His entire body was stiff and motionless, as though it were a mannequin wearing clothes, in a department store.
I felt the hair on my arms stand up, as I took a long, deep breath.
“You see,” he said, with a hint of smug smugness. “If only people would understand the importance of this technology, alone, we could solve all of our ills.”
“Do you see it?” said the doctor, with a raised eyebrow.
“I believe it is the subject’s spine,” he said.
The doctor shook his head. “No,” he said. “It is his skin, stretching tautly.”
The man chuckled. “I see it,” he said. “It raises my curiosity.”
“Why don’t we go to the model,” said the doctor.
I watched as the doctor walked over and ran his hand across the model. His hand looked like a fly on a spider’s web. The doctor grabbed the model and pulled. It snapped into place like a flash of a camera. The room went dark and I could see a two-way reflection of the doctor and myself, reflected on the glass that made up the surrounding wall. Then, it went black and the mirror was gone. The two-way glass was gone too.
I felt my arms lift up off of my shoulders. I could hear what sounded like the pinging of relays on a circuit board. Then, the image of the model appeared in the room.
“Better,” said the doctor. “All is well.”
“It is good,” I said.
“Remember this,” said the model. “I, the man that you see before you, could not pay back his debts from his gambling. This set him apart from so many others. Look at him now. He is dead and actually worth more alive than he was. Why? Because he had something that, now, there will be many that will want. It is a good thing, doctor. But, you should be careful. His greatest value will always be his life.”
The model flickered and the camera began to wobble. The small machine on top of the model made some small sounds and there was a flash of light. I took a step back. Then, I walked to the model and touched it. It was warm.
“What happened?” I asked.
“You saw the light,” said the doctor. “He left an imprint of himself. We would want that in a perfect world. Although, we are not perfect and this universe can be a very harsh place.”
“What do we do with it now?” I asked.
“We are careful with it,” said the doctor. “Remember what was told. Don’t let it get wet.”
“I understand,” I said.
“I need to rest,” said the doctor. “I think I have done all I can. You should have the entire piece by morning. Let me know when you are done. I will meet you in the meeting room.”
The doctor took his seat, as the model flickered and then went out. The room was now night time and I could see the moon shining through the windows. I looked at the model, still sitting on the table.
I know that I was a man of little intelligence, at times. I also knew that I didn’t always mean what I said. But, I found myself thinking about the words of the model, for some reason. I wanted to ask the doctor about it, but I was afraid of what his response might be. I wouldn’t let the doctor get away with this. I would find out what he had done, myself. I felt the time was coming soon, when I had to face up to the man that I was and hold his feet to the fire, when it was convenient for me.
I stood and thought about it for a moment, then decided that I would make that decision for myself. I knew who I was and what I wanted. I knew what I had pledged myself to, in the oaths I had taken. I also knew that I wouldn’t find happiness in a quest for the truth, when I could find it in others. That choice I had made, long ago, when I was a child. And, I was going to hold my head high, with pride.
I took the remote control and started the model back up. The flash of light was more subtle this time. The mirror of glass that was once in the room was gone, but there was still a mirror on the wall. In the window, the moon glowed, like an eye that was watching me. It was curious to me, but I didn’t think that I would be as bad as some people. I wouldn’t set out for the truth just for the sake of a thrill. I wasn’t the type of person to behave that way, because I would have to ask myself if morality was real. That was the sort of thing that I was looking for. I didn’t want to be a question mark, with a few dots here and there to indicate where I was. I wanted to know that I was real and that I would also be something else, real, at the same time.
The moon shone bright on the model and my eyes started to burn a bit. I needed a drink. I had spent my night hours pondering the nature of God, the doctor, and myself.