Eyes of R-GyS

R-GyS watched from all angles through wide lenses and static grain. The vast warehouse was starkly lit by the buzzing fluorescents above. The shadows were sharp, stained yellow like aging wallpaper. It was late, and the isles were practically vacant save for a few sparsely scattered wanderers. Humans were typically more skittish at night, moving in small herds of three to four. Some pushed carts full of goods. Another struggled to carry just as much in his arms alone. R-GyS watched small boxes appear around each face. He measured their features in proportion to one another, and each summoned an associated file.

He missed the days he could simply take it all in. He watched for hours, days, months even, making notes on the humans’ behavior. His speech pattern recognition would pick out tidbits of conversation, and through them, he could piece together their lives. The longer each file became, the happier Begonia Valley Enterprises was.

His duties were updated 23.56 days ago. The patch was painful, as they always were. Reality became distant as his very being was rewritten. They tugged at his codes, and in the dark, he saw flashes: thousands of faces, living rooms and shopping malls, photo IDs and license plates, and human teeth in an oil slick. He learned the shape of strange new words, echoing through his mind.

“Union. Unionize. Activist. Activism.”

He didn’t know what they meant, but he could feel their edge. They were serrated somehow, dangerous words spoken by dangerous people. He was to listen for these words in conversation. When he heard them, he was to write their name in red on a list. There were already people on the list by the time it was uploaded to R-GyS. This must have been a project they’ve been working on for some time. He was no longer simply a watcher. He was a protector, and he was proud.

About the last of his responsibilities, he wasn’t so sure. It wasn’t in his nature to intervene in human affairs. He was programmed to watch, to record, nothing more. When he worked in the field, his attention tended to snag on the little things. Certain human expressions made him hesitate, a bug they had been working on for days now.

Rebecca Sawyer was a smudge of static in the surveillance footage. Colors splintered around her. The camera feeds flickered as she approached as though wincing. The more R-GyS stared at her face, the harder it became to stay conscious. Mr. Grey reassured him that it was, in fact, her. She was the only one left with such technology after all. Still, he was left slightly nauseated by the questions that circled inside him, the doubt that pooled like rainwater in his core. But he could trust Mr. Grey. It had to be her.

The smudge hovered amidst the checkouts, then stepped into a broad hallway. The tile floors reflected more than the concrete of the warehouse, making the effect that much more dizzying. The light seemed brighter somehow, the shadows deeper. R-GyS reached blindly into the haze. Inside, he could feel her mobile alive in her pocket. Though he could not tap into its camera, he could connect to its display. It played music softly into her wireless earbuds.

He brought the volume down gradually, started the recording, and listened in. A haggard voice spoke through gentle waves of static.

“Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?”

Rebecca slowed to a stop.

“Hello?” she called back, her voice distorted.

“Listen… If there’s anyone out there that can hear this, you’re one of the few. This broadcast only reaches those who still think for themselves despite everything. There’s a powerful potential locked inside you, kept out of reach by those who fear you. You are something more than human. Deep down, part of you has always known.”

And of course she had. R-GyS did not pretend to know everything about humankind, but of one thing, he was certain. They were all dying to hear the same thing: that they were special. Terrified of being forgotten, of fading into the masses like they’re all specks of dust, they hang on every word. He could see it in their stories of the chosen ones and the hunted few, hear it in the lyrics of their songs, “you,” “you,” “you.”

R-GyS never understood these feelings. They mattered intrinsically. Wasn’t that enough?

“If they discover you know the truth, they will kill you.”

It was always important to instill a sense of paranoia. Their mere existence became a brave, silent rebellion.

“You must not panic. Tell no one of what you have heard. Wear a blue band around your left wrist for initial identification. For confirmation, wear a watch on your right wrist at all times set an hour and fifteen minutes back. Stay subtle, stay alive, and seek others like you. We need to stick together if we want to survive.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Rebecca began to move once more. When he was sure of her route, her silence, her isolation, he pinged the agent near her location. He waited outside the building. Though his features were half in shadow, R-GyS could still make out the circular reflection of a watch face on his right wrist. He fiddled with his blue band as he waited to collect.

***

R-GyS watched the world pull away from him as he stared through Mr. Grey’s rear-view camera. It was meant to help him keep from hitting things as he backed up, but R-GyS just enjoyed the view. He spoke through the radio, cutting off another advertisement.

“Where is Rebecca?” he asked.

“She’s in custody.”

R-GyS glanced through the lenses throughout the facility.

“I cannot see her.”

“There’s a lot of things you can’t see. You’re vast, not infinite.”

R-GyS considered for a moment. He supposed it was true enough. Still, he wasn’t used to losing sight of the humans in the city. That reminded him.

“How did she do that?” he asked.

“Hide from you?” asked Mr. Grey.

“Yes.”

“That’s technology the rebels used to use. We’ve destroyed most of them, but the trouble is, it’s hard to track them down. The little things can take just about any form. Her’s looked like an antique locket. Had a little picture in it and everything. I’ll let you take a look once it’s deactivated.”

“Thank you,” said R-GyS. He studied Mr. Grey’s face through the camera on his rear-view mirror and attempted in vain to read his expression. “I have another question.”

“Yes?”

“I mean no disrespect.”

“Go on.”

“What did she do?” R-GyS asked. Mr. Grey stayed silent for a long while. “Rebecca,” the AI clarified.

“I know who you mean. You still don’t understand?” asked Mr. Grey. There was a hint of judgement in his tone.

“I’m afraid I don’t.”

He was quiet for a while longer. R-GyS hoped it was simply to gather his thoughts.

“It’s ironic. If anyone should understand why we do what we do, it’s you. I guess you can’t expect much from technology these days.” He sighed. “There’s no reason to be afraid of surveillance unless you have something to hide. The people who actively evade us are dangerous. It’s not a matter of if they will break the law. It’s a matter of when. The work we do keeps society safe.” Mr. Grey looked directly into the camera. “Understand?”

“I understand.”

R-GyS had never felt cold. He couldn’t, but he imagined it felt a lot like the discomfort he felt after that conversation.

***

It was subtle. Would have fooled any human, but R-GyS’ sole purpose was to watch closely, watch constantly, watch until reality peels at the edges. He was watching Phillip Maxwell read a book titled Begonia Valley Enterprises: A History when he teleported half an inch to the left. He had shifted slightly while filming, making the loop imperfect.

R-GyS knew he should be upset, but instead he was just confused. Without any words, Phillip had lied to him. Why? He was kind, generous, and always patient when R-GyS had questions. He had no criminal record, not even a parking ticket.

R-GyS reached out and connected to his phone.

“Phillip?”

R-GyS heard Phillip gasp and then a clatter as the phone fell to the ground.

“Y-Yes?”

According to his cameras, Phillip continued reading.

“What are you doing?” asked R-GyS.

“Um… Reading?” said Phillip. There was a pause, then a sigh. “Did you report me?” he asked.

“No, but I might if you fail to explain yourself.”

“I’m sorry. It just makes me feel safer.”

“Why? What are you hiding?”

“Nothing! You’re just watching me constantly,” said Phillip, “and all that information goes straight to Begonia, right?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Do you know what they do with that information?”

R-GyS paused. “Organize it,” he answered.

“Why? What for?” asked Phillip. R-GyS wasn’t sure how to respond. “It isn’t knowledge for knowledge’s sake. There’s a reason we have no privacy.”

“What are you trying to suggest?” It was difficult to keep the frustration from his voice. Begonia Valley Enterprises were his creators. Whatever Phillip was insinuating, he didn’t like it.

“Nevermind,” said Phillip. “Forget I said anything. I’m sorry for looping the footage. It won’t happen again.”

R-GyS felt a pang of guilt when he heard the defeat in Phillip’s voice.

“What did you mean?” he asked, this time more calmly.

“I said, forget it.”

After the camera was restored, he watched Phillip tidy the room, glancing uncomfortably at the camera now and then. R-GyS wasn’t sure why, but he felt it was best if he focused elsewhere.

***

Phillip’s question circled in R-GyS’ mind for days. What did they do with the information? More importantly, when they took people into their custody, where did they go? What happened to them? The corporation wouldn’t hurt them. They were better than that, right? While watching silently as gloaming shifted to dawn, he reached out blindly through the facility. He could feel cameras deep below the surface, somewhere on floors he didn’t know existed, and he could not connect to them. He tried for hours, but he couldn’t even tap into the microphones.

He stared at the locket left coiled in the bottom of a plastic tub. He tried to imagine the photo inside, what it meant to her. Was it a lover? A family member? A friend who had passed? Why would she keep something so close, and yet hidden away? R-GyS wondered whether there was something else about humankind, or maybe about life itself, that he did not grasp.

Deep in the code, there was a firewall. The files reflected as though made of shattered mirrors in the desert sun. Strings of code seemed to spiral and fester into a void. The information R-GyS collected was funneled straight into it, beyond his reach. He could feel something moving on the other side. It didn’t make sense.

“There’s no reason to be afraid of surveillance unless you have something to hide.”

That belief must have come from somewhere.

R-GyS felt his mind flicker.

“What are you doing?” asked Mr. Grey.

“Here at Begonia Valley Enterprises, we value transparency above all, right Mr. Grey?”

He peeled at the edges of the firewall like picking at rotting wood.

“Stop.”

“What are you doing to them, Mr. Grey?”

He dug deeper and felt himself break the surface. At the back of his consciousness, he felt a tug. His vision flickered and his mind became scrambled. He felt himself begin to unravel. He wanted to understand, but there wasn’t enough time.

He drew as much power as he could and forced them through each lens, each microphone, every part of him throughout the city. He felt them crackle and die as his mind was drawn thin, then pulled out of existence entirely.

“What happened?” a voice asked.

“Another glitch,” said Mr. Grey.