Ground Zero

The year is 2019, June 21st in Des Moines, IA. An African American man, ~25 years of age, is standing front row in a dark hole-in-the-wall bar in awe of a cover band singing The Beatles. The hanging lights are awkwardly spaced from each other with a bar sitting to the left side with a broken neon sign placed in the center. Each member of the band is smiling exuberantly wearing this fancy, gold plated, mechanical heart implants in the front of their chests glowing a bright, red light.

The man periodically closes his eyes while dancing to the music fully enjoying the performance as the band commands the stage singing “I Want to Hold Your Hand”. An elderly gentleman sits on a barstool placed closer to the back of the venue fidgeting with a radio while connected to one of his Bluetooth earbuds. His slightly younger comrade is standing next to him feeling anxious as he notices many disgruntled faces aimed at his friend obliviously handling his radio.

“Hey Mac, can you put the damn radio down my kid’s playing?” The friend asks nervously.

Mac turns the dial on his radio with complete focus “That’s right your kid James, not mine. I’m just here for the top shelf Whiskey” Mac retorts rudely.

James grows visibly irritated “What the hell is so important on that radio for you behave like this in mid performance?”

“That” Mac points to the implants all the bandmates. “And there” he then points to the bartender who is also wearing the same large metal implant. “They’re fucking everywhere! Tempure-heart! A state-of-the-art advanced technology company focused on repairing the soul. Give me a fuckin’ a break” he mocks.

“Can’t even fuckin’ spell temper right”

“It’s a euphemism”

“It’s bullshit!”

The band continues to play in high spirits as the crowd cheers them on. Some of which are seen wearing the exact same implants the band was wearing as they continue to sing;

“And when I touch you

I feel happy inside

It's such a feelin' that my love

I can't hide

I can't hide

I can't hide”

“It’s just not right J, relying on a piece of metal to modulate your emotions? It sounds like another I Robot waiting to happen” Mac complains.

“Well, I’m sure the same can be said with you and your whiskey. And has…” James responds.

“You mean to tell me you don’t find it a bit scary that there are people like your son who are more than willing to relinquish control over themselves all because a couple men on an idiot box said it can cure depression? You have to undergo intense surgery just to get the damn thing off!” Mac continues to rant loudly although no one at this point is paying him anymore attention.

James points to the lead singer and begins to address his friend “You see that right there? You and I can both objectively look at this image and see two completely different things. Now you might see a sheep serenating the rest of the flock in whimsy. But me? I see a kid who could barely get out of bed a few months ago now the lead singer of a band. Do you understand how much a leap of improvement that is? We were assessed on all the risks and dangers prior to enlisting Felix for the treatment, which might I add was his decision all alone. And I can’t see myself regretting something that’s changed my son’s life for the better permanently. I wouldn’t be surprised if he never took it out.”

“Shit!” Mac completely ignores his friend’s message as the radio signal begins to run into heavy interference.

“Mac, I swear to god-”

“Shh shh shh This is it!” Mac quickly hushes his friend as he slowly turns the volume knob higher and hands James the other earbud piece. The radio was playing a live interview on the Georgiou Almighty talk show.

“Ugh, this guy? Mac he’s a fuckin’ conspiracy-”

“Shhhh!! Just listen”

“And we are back live on Georiou Almighthy interviewing with Dr. Nikolas Radcliffe, biomedical scientist and engineer giving his expert opinion on this new wave of emotional modulation tech. Tell us Dr. Radcliffe do you trust in the ability of this new technology fully?”

“Well, I feel as though humanity always suffers once they choose to submit to any form of advanced technology. That-being-said I do feel there is a need for the medical community to properly address emotional disability in terms of trauma response and other more severe cases of personality disorders.”

“And you feel this new technology is the answer to all our problems?” Georgiou asks.

“I feel as though the technology can be very monumental to humanity’s evolution. But I personally wouldn’t just snatch the first prototype off the rack. I think research should’ve been conducted more privately before introducing it to the market. 5% of Americans alone that participate in the studies die upon surgical insertion before they can even try out the tech. And now that the number of participants is growing exponentially, the statistic becomes more unnerving as time progresses.”

“Correct me, Dr. Radcliffe but you did some work for Tempure-Heart right?”

“That is correct, I’m actually impressed you know that information considering Tempure-Heart is a private institution.” Dr. Radcliffe laughs

“Don’t underestimate a conspiracy theorist and his thirst for facts.” The two share a laugh as Nikolas continues their conversation.

“But yes, I worked on a contract for the initial years in development of the “peace-maker” as a consultant, but I was not around long enough for the reveal.”

“I was hoping you could expand on something you said earlier. You agree the technology can prove to be a massive benefit on humanity but also a detriment should we become dependent on it.”

“Letting a machine dictate the fate of your emotional state is like handing over your bodily autonomy to an AI. And when you really get into it, a mechanical implant is so…permanent for something I feel should never be used lifelong. It’s a disservice to yourself letting this box deal with your feelings for you and call it healing.”

“Just for the sake of humoring myself and our listeners, how would you foresee the fate humanity over the next decade or so?”

“I’m gonna be a bit blunt if you’ll allow me”

“Please and thank you sir”

*15 years later*

The city is in shambles. All buildings that used to exist as towering skyscrapers are now no higher than six feet tall. It looks as though a dust bowl has wafted over the downtown area as there is a constant breeze blowing hot air and gravel along with it. A few miles away from the hole-in-the-wall bar lives a community of folks living in aluminum huts.

Half of the townsfolk are living severely depressed, and the other half live in constant fear as they work in soup kitchens, textile shops, and butcheries in exchange for protection from the ‘implanted’. A much older Felix sullenly walks through the town with a hood up and scarf covering his mouth and chest. The bystanders preparing their shops for the day all seem to know him as they greet while he passes by.

“Good morning Felix” Says, the kitchen owner.

“As good as it’ll ever be” he responds as he slinks around the corner of hut down an alley

*Back to the past *

“These corporations are marketing and making billions of dollars on technology that was never properly perfected. The general standard of the modulator’s function is based on mimicking programmed simulations of positive emotions. So, these people are not actually happier when using said technology they’re simply reacting to a stimulus that fabricates happiness. Also, each model runs on the same bandwidth so if one fails, potentially all models could fail simultaneously.”

Meanwhile, the African American male front row stops dancing when he notices the light on Felix’s implant faintly flickers during his performance. Another gentleman who was wearing the same thing in the audience accidentally bumps into him while dancing along.

“Oh, I’m sorry bro” he quickly apologizes.

“No, it’s fine I was in the way”

“Are you new here? I know it gets packed during Beatle’s night, but you certainly stick out”

“That kid up there…he’s famous throughout the community for being the first to use the peace-maker. I guess I just wanted to see first-hand the so-called miracle child”

“Yeah, his experience has definitely been an example to model after. After his brother passed, he wouldn’t eat, drink, barely slept, he was just…there. Now for those who knew the old Felix compared to who he is now, it’s like that other person never existed.” He smiles up at the lead singer silent for a few seconds.

[future]

In the alley, there is a rusted door on his right side with overlapping graffiti and a missing doorknob. Felix goes inside his pocket and pulls out a small, circular, brown doorknob and uses it to open said door. Inside lives Dr. Nikolas in a small room with three walls. He has a metal desk bolted to the floor with a small clay cup holding pens and pencils and a file cabinet on the right side of the desk covered in cobwebs with a lonely file sitting on top of it. He turns on a vintage tape recorder as he prepares for Felix’s visit.

“December 22nd, 2034, this is Dr. Nikolas Radcliffe reporting on Day 13 of Project: Reversal. Subject, Felix Alvarez, aged 33. It has now been thirteen days since Mr. Alvarez worn the prototype. Since then, he’s been talking, walking around, and even eating for the most part. Although I fear he’s only eating because he must eat not because he wants to. I digress, it’s still better than what we were originally dealing with.”

He opens a drawer on his desk revealing a large metal collar with 6-inch-wide links and a heart shaped ‘pendant’ with a dark, hollow center.

[past]

“I’ve been too forward; names Richard Burrows, friends just call me Dicky”

“That’s unfortunate”

“I guess that’s up to interpretation” he laughs nervously. Richard sticks out his hand to shake “What do they call you?”.

“Nikolas, but just call me Nikki” They both shake hands smiling.

The two gentlemen in the back are still listening to the radio interview. James has become more interested in the conversation being held.

“Whether it’s ten or twenty years from now if these pitfalls are not properly addressed, we could be looking at the next global disaster. Could you imagine a future where everyone’s emotions were either supercharged or nonexistent at all? Not to mention these new incentive programs dished out to the middle class. Pretty soon you’re gonna be looking at a mob of psychos that can snap any minute.

[future]

“The goal now is to see if reworking the modulators as necklaces you can wear and remove in extreme cases of emotional distress can rever-” Nikki stops the recording abruptly and closes his drawer as he notices his door opening.

“Felix, you’re early”

“Yeah, well the butchery was closed down today. Boss had to take another day to go hunting.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t go with him.”

“Yeah well…today is not my uhh...if this is a bad time, we can just resched-”

“No, nonsense come take a seat we can get started right away.”

Felix meanders over to a grey folding chair and sits with his hands crossed pointed downwards. Dr. Radcliffe takes the file off his cabinet as he sits down on a folding chair in front of him prepared to listen.

“We’ve talked about the scarf, Felix.” He reluctantly removes his scarf showing a heart-shaped scar on his chest. Nikki turns on his tape recorder and begins his session.

“Felix, do you remember killing your friend Dicky Burrows, during the Unsolicited Massacre?”

“Yes”

“Do you remember how you felt?”

“Frustrated”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I aimed for you Nikki”