The Disparate One

Ray stared at the shiny pieces on the table in silence. He darted his eyes to the blueprint then to the toolboxes and cabinets, then back to the table. He glanced at Ony whose eyes were as serious as Oxford when they first met. Ray wanted to make up an excuse, but he remembered what Oxford told him about the rules. He asked Ony regarding the task. Just to be sure he won’t be breaking any rules.

“Just build a robot. Oxford told me to make this particular task for you. Why? Ask him,” said Ony with his Canadian accent.

“O-oh…” uttered Ray, walking towards the table head down.

Ony nodded before casually heading back to his cubicle, he walked backward to keep an eye on the test subject. Passing the entrance to his space, he found Oxford propped up against the fridge with a soda can in his hand. It was covered with condensation. He sipped and asked.

“So?”

“So?”

Oxford frowned while he tilted his head in the direction of Ray who was walking around the area. Oxford expected his test subject to protest but he heard nothing from his colleague regarding it. He figured the rules must’ve scared Ray.

He stood aside when Ony walked to the fridge to grab himself a drink, the same one as Oxford’s. The can fizzled when Ony sat back to his swivel chair, placing his left leg atop the other. He looked at Ray across the busy catwalk, seeing him picking up pieces and bringing them to the board, probably matching them to the blueprints and manuals.

It reminded Ony of his first day. He did the same thing as Ray was doing. It was the most intense moment of his life. His predecessor watched him put things into pieces for hours, without a single break.

Looking down at his hands, he eyed each scar around it, each of which retained a painful memory of his days with his predecessor.

He recalled the times like when his fingers got squashed by two large neodymium magnets, thankfully the facility willingly repaired it for free. The time when he foolishly aimed the nail gun at his fingertips without turning the switch off. These moments made him smile until he got to the last scar.

The one he got from punching a guard as he got peeled away from his predecessor years ago. That day was as fresh as a newly made sushi. He could still feel the pain throbbing in his left hand. He fought hard--put his life at risk--only to see his predecessor again. But he never found his predecessor until this day.

“Earth to Ony…” Oxford’s voice ripped through the horrifying memory.

Ony shook himself out of his thoughts when he looked back at Oxford who was speaking to him. He sipped, feeling the pricks of the spirit.

“D-did you say something?” Ony asked.

Oxford calmly looked down at him, he could tell where Ony’s mind wandered again just by looking at his eyes and seeing him admire his scars earlier. He moved towards him and patted Ony’s shoulder.

“I’m fine… what were you saying?”

Oxford glanced at Ray for a moment, watching him now connect little pieces from the table. He slid out a piece of paper with something written on it, ‘Channel 57’.

Instantly, they simultaneously turned their dials to the next channel where they could speak without Ray listening.

“Do you know anything about microbots?” Oxford asked clearly, returning to his spot to finish his sweating drink.

Ony looked at him curiously. He never expected his colleague to suddenly have an interest in micro-engineering as if transferring themselves to a private channel wasn’t already a questioning one.

“I have heard about their concept… but I am not sure we are already producing those…” replied Ony, rubbing his chin.

“You haven’t read the documents, have you?”

“Hey, at least now you know what it feels like,” said Ony, shifting on his chair, leaning to the left where he opened one of the drawers under his desk where he pulled out his tablet.

Oxford gave his friend some time to catch up with the things they added in Ray’s document. At the same time, he found Ray staring at the board, shuffling some papers around. Looking at the table in the middle of the area, he could see a tiny piece standing upright facing him.

“Oh… this is interesting…” murmured Ony, taking a sip, “These are very complex…”

“So you think we made him and somehow he ended up in the middle of an inhabited island?” Oxford threw the can into the bin like a ball before grabbing another one, two, since Ony requested as well.

“I mean… to be honest… he may be. Like… come on… you really think this facility doesn’t produce these?” Ony slid his tablet on the desk before catching the new can from the air thrown by Oxford.

“Then how come he can’t remember a single thing about himself? Or… why does the management even assign something we made to us?”

“Oxford…”

Oxford looked at Ony who had a brow raised. He knew which words would fly out of his mouth: It’s the management, It’s the facility, or just deal with it.

“...ask Sion. Maybe he knows a thing or two.”

Oxford blinked at Ony. Something new for once.

On the other side of the catwalk, Ray snapped his fingers, lighting a light bulb in his mind. Quickly, he slid back and forth from the table to the board, matching individual objects in the right order. He ran around the area, opening cabinets and boxes, filling his hands with different tools.

He was building the feet according to the blueprint when he found a small flaw. A flaw which could decrease the lifespan of the pieces by a few years. He squinted at the protruding object located at the heels. Why would someone put this here? he thought.

Scrabbling around, he found an alternative to the protruding object which, with some little force, fitted perfectly into the slot. Half an hour later, he completed the feet. Now, the rest of the body.

Oxford and Ony were still talking about “microbots” when one of their phones rang. Ony checked his which was on the side of the desk, it was not moving nor flashing its screen with someone’s image. Oxford checked his, Chap was calling.

Oxford turned the screen to Ony who instantly got the idea for his reason to call. Ray.

Oxford connected his phone to the earmuffs wirelessly before answering the call. Ony stayed in the channel, quietly listening to his friends’ conversation.

Chap had himself looking through one of the microscopes in his lab when they picked up his call. He turned the dial, observing the molecular structure of one miniature robot from one of Ray’s strands of hair. Chap’s recent discoveries somehow didn’t surprise the two.

“Every sample I got from him is entirely made out of robots,” said Chap, pressing one of the buttons on the sides of the device to take a picture of what he was seeing. He was watching how this one robot would react to foreign cells, like white blood cells.

This was his second test. The first one he did was by inserting Ray’s blood into a live lab rat.

It died hours later.

The rat’s cells were dismantled like strips of papers, Ray’s on the other hand remained intact.

Chap’s discovery caught the two off guard. Oxford and Ony stared at each other in silence, hoping Chap was playing a joke on them because now wasn’t a good time for such a thing. What made the moment even more interesting was when Ray appeared in their view, his mouth was moving but no sound could be heard. Oxford realized Ray was still in the original channel, so he switched over in time when he heard him said:

“I’m done. I did change some parts of the blueprints.”

Chap volunteered to leave the call for all of them to focus on what was on their hands. Oxford and Ony were standing in the middle of the area where Ray managed to build a robot in under two hours, a new record, literally.

Ony’s record was seven and a half hours.

The two of them watched Ray enthusiastically speak about the flaws he discovered during his build and what he did to eliminate and improve them. He found a handful, enough to make this particular robot to be more robust and reliable than any average robot lifespan currently in production in this facility. Putting a curtain of shame on Ony.

Oxford eagerly listened and observed Ray’s movements around the board and circling the masterpiece he made. He rested his chin on his hand with a brow raised. Good thing he visited Ony and made Ray do this first, now he had a new question that needed to be answered.

Is Ray used to be one of us?