Millie Haney, “Holloware”
The projector whirrs, mechanical ticking announcing the commencement of grandeur. As the video comes to life, I’m met with my own face, large and imposing against the wall of the room. I know very well that I recorded this video. But I don’t remember it. The version of me shown in the recording is lively– not yet withered with time and illness. This was the man worth monuments. The man the country would mourn come morning.
“Following the augmentation of poverty in the United States, and the damages caused by our contribution to World War III, poverty and homelessness reached an all time high of 46% of the United States population. I took this opportunity to reimagine our beloved country, and the definition of the American Dream. With that came the birth of Better Life, the blueprint to turn the United States of America into a true utopia and the real land of the free.”
The lights die, and soon I am again bathed in darkness. Outside, rain pours, but not a sound dances with it. The world feels still– too still for midnight–but it’s fitting for the occasion. For tonight was the night of President Robinson’s–which is to say my–assassination.
After failing to avoid the blemish that soiled my bloodline, I fell ill. But this country didn’t need a ruler with defects. I’d been methodical in my plan to keep them in the shadows. I wouldn’t die a sick man. I’d die a hero.
I’d use technology to take evolution to my own hands– become the one they could trust, even in my death. Show humanity what it means to be extraordinary. We were never supposed to stop here.
Did you know that animals are still evolving? Not humans, though. Most will admit we’re stuck here. Too smart to be wild yet too dumb for anything more than what we’re already doing. Vulture bees learnt to feed on carcasses when there were no more flowers to feed on. And I wonder what that says about us, should we be left to our devices. Maybe that’s why we’re stuck. When evolution is left in the hands of nature, we become monsters. So who’s to say we can’t leave it in the hands it changes?
Scientists believe that humans are naturally flawed. Brittle bones leave us slow, and aging skin, inept. I believe that the biggest flaw of humanity is illness. I myself, one to experience its sadism.
We blunder ‘round, grasping with meaty fingers and stuffing our faces till we’re elephantine. We never give ourselves a reason to be prideful. And yet, we are.
But it doesn’t have to be that way. With mechanical parts, we can rid ourselves of the burden of skin. Humanity can always find a way to be masterpieces! And this is my solution. We can make for a better future with brains that run on algorithms rather than emotions. Stopping to pick the flowers is what makes us weak. Instead, we should make like vultures, learn to rebuild atop the bodies of those unchosen by natural selection.
Better Life was never a reform, it was a cleanse. To rid ourselves– rid this world of weakminded infants. Those too newborn to see beyond economy and beyond war to the real issue. Empathy. I don’t mean that everyone needs to be great, in fact I don’t believe everyone can. But a lack of conscience will not be without consequence.
Carefully, I slip from my suit, feeling the last rush of that frigid air that bites at mortal skin. The cloth ripples beautifully against resin floors, and I step out from it, bare. Crossing the room, I drown the melody of rain with a song that’s more organic, the moist sound of sweaty feet on solid ground. On the other side of the room from where I’d been standing, an empty operating table awaits occupation.
Now isn’t the time to contemplate the meaning of life– nor the bugs built into human DNA. Instead, I lay on the table, watching the ceiling, waiting. I’ve seen my new face– I know what I’ll be. I know what I will symbolize. A new era of humanity.
That’s what I will be.
Superhuman.
