Test Subject 117

117 stared at the monitor. He saw once more the endless columns of repeating zeroes and ones. It was once more time to decipher. That was his designated role and had been for as long as he could recall. Only today was different. His concentration waned. The previously innocuous clicking of the keyboards of his compatriots all around now was driving him to other feelings. This discontent and restlessness was something he had never felt before. He stopped and for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, he intentionally looked away from the monitor. The cacophony of clicking keys was ceaseless. He looked to his right and the line of his colleagues went on seamlessly. For the first time, he had taken notice of what they looked like. They were all dressed exactly the same. In gray jumpsuits, gloves, and identical helmets with visors. The only difference being a small serial number on the collar of their suits. 

He felt a strange sensation. A sinking sort of feeling. That he had lived through this exact same sequence. And many times. He looked towards the ground and it seemed so close to him. As if he had lost all spatial awareness. Dizziness followed and the room began to spin. No one noticed or if they did they were all awfully good at hiding it. “What am I doing?”, then in an act of desperation he banged his keyboard. The keyboard clicking to his right stopped for a moment. A miracle perhaps. He looked over and sure enough, there was 109, helmet turned and staring at 117 an opaque visor reflecting a dark and empty abyss.

“Unit 117 is acting in an unorthodox fashion in defiance of his duties.” Said F246 to his supervisor in an upstairs office behind closed doors. “Yes, but it is not entirely unexpected. I have word from The Superior that this was planned.” 

“Sir? I’m afraid I.. I don’t understand.” 

“It’s a test, an experiment. If you can wrap your mind around it. Let it play out for now. We want to see what the test subject is able to handle. The last attempt was a failure some years ago before your time. The simulations were inaccurate and the algorithm was a failure. There is hope now that this model will be successful but we won’t know until we run a trial. In the meantime, I’ll require your observations. I need to be aware of everything he does. Your vigilance of 117 will be critical to our progress.” 

“Of course.” F246 turned and walked out the door with one thing on his mind. Watching 117. 

117 awoke the following morning with a strange sensation. It was indescribable. But it dissipated from his mind just as quickly as it manifested. Like grabbing a fistful of rain. 117 sat down at his monitor and started to decipher the screen of endless zeroes and ones. Plucking away. And then he thought of something. An elusive memory. When did it happen though? Sometime before he awoke this morning but after he had gone to sleep the night before. Insanity. 

He stopped typing and looked to his right and saw 109 there along with his other obedient comrades beating away incessantly at the keyboard while staring into the void of their monitors. 117 got up, ran down the hall, and did the unthinkable. He unfastened his helmet and dropped it on the floor. Then he struck the wall with his fist. I've got to tell everyone. They need to know. They must know.

First just one of his colleagues noticed and then more until finally the whole row had stopped and stared at him. An endless row of identical helmets and black visors staring up at him in awe. He had seemed to have conquered the specter of obedience that had previously held all their minds captive. But then at the critical moment, 117 stood there and was dumbfounded. Before he could think of anything next, a deep, resonating voice called out, “That’s quite enough.” F246 had been watching 117 all morning and after seeing the ensuing disruption had deemed interference necessary. An infraction like this had never occurred before at least not in the memory of F246. So he grabbed the perpetrator and along with two other upholders of the status quo dragged him away from the crowd of distracted onlookers onto an elevator. 117 stood there in an elevator, maskless for the first time ever, and had felt liberated. The feeling of elation was fleeting, however. The realization grew inside his mind that he was trapped and that he must try to escape. Up they went in the elevator, 117 lost count of the floors. Eventually, the elevator paused and the doors opened. F246 led the way through the doors, turned, and looked at the three of them. The two minions followed. 117 would not. He shoved the two of them out of the elevator and slammed the door shut. He didn’t know what to do next. Compulsive actions were unheard of. Out of nowhere, in the vast expanse of his pulsating mind reverberated the number 31. Yes, he’d get off on the 31st floor.

On the 31st floor, the elevator doors opened, and in front of him an empty hallway. As he walked down the corridor he could hear footsteps echoing behind him. He picked up the pace. They did too. And there were more of them by the sound of it. He dared not look back. Ahead was a doorway that looked wide open, light shining through. It was so close now he was almost there. For one second he could see it in his mind. A sight of wonder that he dare not even try to describe. And just like that, it was gone. Darkness. 

There 117 sat staring at his monitor, zeros, and ones. The empty shell of his mind tried for a fleeting moment to remember something it had long forgotten. But it was no use. An ephemeral dream was lost and now forgotten. He continued.