Gynoids of Times:  Under The Glass

by Elliot Bowers

It is quite far into the future, at least I think. Most everyone that had lived during the closing decades of the 20^th century has been dead for over a hundred years. But still, the time of the late 20^th century still lives on in our historical archives. At least, our archives have been preserved against the Disaster known as history.

I am Master Thompson, an archivist and historian. To begin, I shall give you a bit of background to my story. Contrary to what many of such a time as the 1980s would believe, we of the 22^nd Century do not retain historical records of the late 20^th Century in the form of "disks" or other "electronic storage." Instead, much history of that era is preserved through a form of technology both ancient and infinitely more reliable for long-term preservation: Books. The 20^th century had produced literally millions of pounds of printed material of all sorts, ranging from science fiction anthologies to pure-knowledge instructional texts. We have been able to uncover some of it in studying that long-lost time. But not all of our history is based on still very-legible books and other printed material from the lost time. Indeed, our best archives even retain artifacts from the lost time before the Disaster.

Now, I want to tell you about what I believe to be the greatest artifact left over from the 20^th century. Since its discovery several decades ago, this artifact has been well preserved in a glass case. And after the Senate considered it, the artifact was approved for display in a glass display case in the New Washington's Smithson Archive and Museum. The artifact -- dating from perhaps the late 1990s -- stands four cubits tall, is perhaps a cubit in width --- and is strange.

"How do you mean strange?" you and many have ask as you read my account. The artifact in question is almost totally covered in a shroud of strange cloth for most of its length. And yet, the "face" of the artifact is left uncovered for the public to see. I refer to the artifact's face because that is exactly what the top part resembles -- a human face. One could call it a human face if one ignored the scrape-damage done to it due to ravages of time.

And underneath the artifact's surface material layer seen through the facial scrapes, there is a stiff and flesh-like material -- presumably supported by a metal framework of sorts. (For preservation's sake, the Senate refused to have the artifact cut to pieces to find out.) So there you have it: an artifact the height of and likeness of a human child, covered almost totally in a shroud, with a damaged face. It stands frozen in its glass case suspended a tri-cubit above the Archive's floor -- waist height. Meanwhile, carefully-mimeographed copies of the original technical manuals found with the artifact are on shelves of the "Texts" area of the Smithson Archive. And by the way, in case you have been asleep for the past few decades, the artifact seems to have been named "V.I.C.I."

"Greetings, Master Thompson," said the local courier as he arrived at my study that day. "I come bearing the latest from your colleagues in the Midwestern Wastes." After I recognized his presence, he entered the sunlight-illuminated study I call my office. (You may want to come by some time; it's on the second floor of the Archives.) This local courier, an athletic yet disciplined man, was responsible for deliveries to the Smithson Archives. "Books?" I asked, getting up from my desk and walking over to this messanger-man. The courier nodded once, a yes! The courier opened his shoulder bag, removed a paper scroll, and handed it to me. He then handed me the receipt; the receipt did in fact declare the shipment to be books -- TECHNICAL books. "Not that it is any of my business, but what excites you so about books from this particular site? After you found that VICI artifact, that site hasn't made the papers lately. Besides, in the West Coast territories, I hear that there are many more technical artifacts and books found -- pounds and carts of them." Instead of responding immediately to my courier's query, I opened the scroll and read the receipt; I smiled broadly. "Courier," I said as I addressed him, "have your delivery personnel bring up the books -- immediately."

To explain, we found the VICI artifact three decades ago in one area of the Midwestern Wastes -- an area of vast wilderness that overruns ruins from old-time America. As was the custom of those extremely-wasteful times, the people of Lost-Time Midwestern America buried much in raw materials in what they called "dumps" and "landfills." After excavating a particular landfill, we came across what seemed to be a life-sized female doll covered in a smooth cloth. We cut away the shroud, revealing a somewhat damaged face. Hence, we found the VICI artifact, identified by the outdated print still legible on a crumbling tag attached to the artifact. Along with the artifact, we found a sodden and ruined book that gave us some information on the name and place of manufacture of the VICI artifact. Unfortunately, as much of the book was ruined, we were unable to read too much on the artifact. But that changed with the latest shipment found in the same region as that of the artifact's discovery.

It seems that my colleauges had uncovered an entire bookshelf of almost perfectly-preserved technical texts on the creation of the VICI artifact. Physically, the VICI artifact was technologically amazing -- especially to us in these times. This "VICI" was, according to the texts, made with material that both resembled and ACTED AS actual human flesh -- muscles and all. And the VICI's "skeleton" was made of an extremely light, but strong metal. But what seems unbelievable is this: According to the texts uncovered by my colleagues, the VICI artifact actually mimicked and behaved as a young human female would. Yet, look upon the stiff and frozen figure in the glass case that sits in the Public Display Area of the Smithson Archives, and one would find this hard to believe. There was only one way to find out, however, if this was true. And to do so, I would have to speak to the New Washington Senate. After receiving the books, it seemed like the thing to do.

The very next day, I filed a petition to seek audience with the Senate. And within as soon as a week, the Senate was to hear me in the Hall. To recite, each town in these times has a Senate -- perhaps five or seven elderly individuals voted into office to act as the government for four years. The Senate of New Washington is well-known for its wisdom -- and somewhat curmudgeonly temprement. That day, clutching my Request, I stood in the public Hall, street urchins touring the city sat in the audience. I stood before all seven of the Senators and read my request: I wanted to call down experts of technology from the Technology Preservation Guild in the New Pennsylvania territory to help me restore the VICI artifact. "Master Thompson," asked Senator Thurmond III (quite an elderly person), "you seek to tamper with the VICI artifact, after all of your efforts to pass legislation of its preservation? What if it is damaged?" "But I have secured new information on the artifact that warrants this restoration attempt," I began. "And the Technology Preservation Guild from New Pennsylvania are the best -- and have wanted to try restoration of the VICI artifact for years."

There was a murmur of some confusion from among the Senators. Two of them rapidly chittered to one another. Then two others began to talk. "Stand and await the Senate'sVote, Master Thomas. We shall decide presently." I stood, quite nervously, as the Senate formed a huddle and discussed matters. Senator Thurmond III was gesticulating at Senator Gorton. Senator Gorton and Senator Keane whispered to him some things, and then he assented. "Master Thompson," announced Senator Thurmond. "We have heard your Petition. And we grant you permission to make an attempt to restore the VICI artifact. I went to one knee to symbolize thanks and acceptance of the Senate's decision. And Senator Thompson said more: When the sun reaches its zenith today, speak with the town treasurer and Courier Guild to arrange funding and communication for your project. We wish you well, citizen."

That afternoon, I received institutional funding for the Smithson Archives as so I could begin the project. And immediately, I wrote a letter to the Technology Preservation Guild in New Pennsylvania; the town's Courier's Guild, knowing the importance of this project, had it sent by solar-train to New Pennsylvania. The day before their response to my letter-scroll, I read and reviewed the new technical manuals on VICI. Though I was only one of the Archivist Guild, I could understand the writing. Did this VICI have a sort of mind, an "A.I. Brain?" Would this automaton-mind retain a sort of memory? Or, when we did repair it, would this artifact merely crumble when we restored it, the ghosts of history laughing at us? But my doubts about tampering with the VICI artifact would have to be put aside as the Technology Preservation Guild would choose to arrive immediately instead of sending any sort of response to my letter-scroll

And they did arrive. The Technology Preservation Guild arrived in town by the same solar transit. Though they faced periodic breakdowns (as solar trains are less reliable than wave-ships), they arrived in good form. They also arrived with a caravan of equipment shipments. And it was quite a bit of equipment to bring to the New Smithson Archives -- enough equipment to fill the exhibition floor's space with chemical-processing equipment, machine-tooling, and all means of gadgetry that actually surpassed the 21^st century in technological advancement.

Some even rumored that the young and crazy-clothed young men and women of all Technology Guilds in all of the land were wizards and witches -- tomfoolery. But anyway, after giving handshakes and enthusiastic greetings to me ("It has been a long time, and we were waiting for this moment, Master Thompson!"), the Technology Guild members went to work. These "wizards" had arrived and set up the equipment in the Archive's seventy-by-eighty cubit floorspace around the VICI artifact. They used solar cells and standard charge-batteries to charge their strange equipment. After powering up and setting up their strange and mad equipment, we simply had to close off the entire building the Archives for a week to prevent public interference with our work. (Meanwhile, the rest of the exhibits were stored in the basement catacombs, close to the books.)

Master Ghallager, this Technology Guild's guildmaster, wanted his Technology apprentices to analyze the latest VICI manuals before doing any actual work. I asked him how long it would take his apprentices to comprehend the material within the four latest VICI manuals. He responded, "Well, with a minimum of breaks, all twelve members of my guild should have read and absorbed the information within a week's time. And from our previous work with other technologies, we should be able do begin work soon after." In fact, it took the Technology Preservation Guild's people six days to read and review the technological aspect of this VICI. Every so often, a few of them would exclaim "Amazing," and "This is hard to believe -- but it seems VERY plausible," and "Why didn't WE think of that sooner?" They were taking notes a-plenty. And within that time, they had declared that they knew at least enough to restore VICI.

The next day, Master Ghallager beamed at his apprentices as they began calibrating their equipment. "They truly are brilliant, my apprentices. Don't worry; don't worry at all. Master Thompson, we will have your VICI artifact as good as... NEW. We are not quite sure how long it will take, but we know for certain that it can be done." That said, the Technology Guild's apprentices carefully removed the VICI artifact from her stand in the glass casing as the late-morning sun shone into the Archive's public display hall. But the apprentices did not exactly need this light, as their equipment supplied light enough to work both day and night -- strange for this era. I was quite close to shouting "careful," but didn't as they removed VICI from the case and put it onto a sort of metal bed: I trusted these apprentices. They knew the magics of technology much better than I.

And the apprentices went to WORK. I almost cried as they disassembled VICI. But Master Ghallager tried to quell my fears, "Don't worry: VICI was designed to be taken apart. Besides, we will probably have to re-synthesize some more crystallized myogel and the fiberglass epidermis anyway." I sighed some relief at that statement -- whatever it meant. And then he said, "But it's the AI and the CPU hardware's preservation that I worry about..."

Still, the apprentices worked late into the day. First, the apprentices worked in teams to restore VICI's limbs according to the technological manuals. They replaced the "muscle" tissue that coated the VICI's skeleton. And once they restored the artifact's limbs, they tested them: The artifact's limbs MOVED. "We're working on artificial limbs like that back at the Guild's hall; don't let it discombobulate you," stated Guildmaster Ghallager. But then, after teams of them had restored the VICI's limbs to what they told me was almost flawless working order, they all began to work on the torso and head. "Now," proclaimed Technology Preservation Guildmaster Ghallager, "we shall bring VICI's electric soul back to the world of the living." I worried about his use of the word "living."  

It was deep into the night, nearing the morning hours, when they were into the heart of the restoration process. My eyes were tiring, and herbal stimulant drinks were losing their effects. "Johns, give me the replacement CPU breadboard. For such an advanced piece of work, that 'Lawson' sure did use old hardware." Master Ghallager was overseeing each and every step of the process as his apprentices were in deep work over the torso and head of VICI, the artifact's innards being prodded and replaced and copied. Master Ghallager continued to guide his apprentices: "Johns, did you make three backups of the AI software, even the ROM? Good, then the AI is complete. Now close her up." What, did Master Ghallager say "HER?" Perhaps I have been awake for too long and only imagined those words.

But then, a sort of excitement began to close over the small crowd of apprentices as they began to put VICI back together, limbs and all. VICI was restored. It, or she, actually did resemble a young female. And they swathed VICI in modern dress appropriate to a child, a more humanizing touch. But still, there were wires and leads coming out of VICI's back as the VICI lay there sideways on the table. A wire leading from some power equipment led to a place below VICI's "arm." After removing some of the leads from VICI's back, they laid the VICI on its back.

Then, excitement began to fill my gut. What did the Technology Guild accomplish with this centuries-old artifact? "Final status check," ordered Master Ghallager. "All hardware diagnostics -- including input/output -- is online and at approximately 90% functionality," said one apprentice. "AI preliminary diagnostics indicate that she's beginning software warmup and initialization-booting now," said a female apprentice as she read some strange equipment. Master Ghallager stood silent for a second, then said with some drama, "give full power; use the startup patch program now..." An apprentice did something with another piece of equipment close to the table. SOMETHING was happening to VICI. "Remove the diagnostic leads, but leave the AI interface," ordered Master Ghallager. They removed leads from VICI's back. "Now disconnect everything, and stand back. This thing is strong, and we can't be sure of the results." Having done so, all of the Technology Preservation Guildmembers present stood away from VICI. VICI, once a crystallized and damaged artifact resembling a doll -- a child -- was now new and RESTORED. And yet, she... it seemed to be awakening, though VICI did not move.

But at that time, my own exhaustion at this late, late hour was beginning to get to me. I felt my head begin to droop. My eyes, dry and tired, simply began to fall on their own accord. I was rapidly falling asleep. But then, it happened: VICI opened her eyes. She looked into my eyes. "God above!" I shouted, which drained the last of my energy. I fell into the darkness of sleep before I knew anything else. But as I was losing consciousness, I knew that something had been done. For the first time in centuries, VICI had been restored.

After falling asleep, I fell into a deep and vivid dream. I dreamed of that lost time and world that I had analyzed and read about in my studies and research in the History Archives. My dream took me to the 1990s. Strangely enough, as I myself was dressed as usual, everyone else in the dream -- as I was to find out -- was dressed in fashions of late 20^th century (pre-Disaster) America. In the dream, I stood on the street described in the VICI manuals. In fact, after jogging up to the street sign (as one cannot quite run in dreams), I found that I was at the place of VICI's operation. Knowing the history around the VICI artifact, I then went straight to the place of VICI's owners. As dreams have it, I was inside of the house.

The mists of the dream fogged details, but I knew that I was in the very same house of the long-dead Ted Lawson that was described in the History Archives. And I stood in the central living area (close to the food preparation room) of the house. I wanted to explore this dream. I wanted to roam, to explore, as it seemed so very real to me. I was in the past -- even if it was not a dream but the actual past. But then, the dream would not allow me to move. And in that dream-home, a wooden doorway opened from the back as Lawson arrived.  

Though details were weak, I would soon recognized VICI's creator from several other Archives' descriptions: approximately seven cubits tall, dressed in a style vaguely contemporary to his era, and always smiling. Though the dream refused me movement, Lawson seemed free enough. With that smile, he stood staring for a moment. Then, Lawson spoke: "So, you have fixed my Vicky! I would have thought that her line would have died with me, seeing that she wasn't made put too much further past the prototype stage at the labs." I was confused at the latter half of what he said. "But you've brought back Vicky, even if I can't come back. Now, I want you to listen." I listened. "I want you to help Vicky to be the first. When you get back to your brilliant friends of yours, help them teach VICI about your new time. Let her become a part of your lives. And then..."

Just then, the dream-scape began to waver a bit. Lawson looked around slowly, looked back to the entrance, and then continued: "VICI and more like her could have done so much for the world. VICI and you all now have another chance. I'll make this quick: Make more like VICI. If you fixed one, you could make more. And let you make more, her kind help you. To help you along, there were some more books I kept in the... " Then, my dream blurred off.

That was quite a nice concluding dream to what was to be perhaps the greatest time of my career as an Historical Archivist. Not only would facts and artifacts the Lost Era before the pollution-ridden disaster be restored for more study, but society overall would could be radically improved -- and even advanced -- with the introduction of automatons like VICI. Since my team had uncovered the VICI artifact, we knew that the artifact -- or she -- was a find. As VICI stared out of her glass case for all of those years, it were as if there were still rudiments of thoughts floating and waiting to be brought back. And because she was restored, that was going to be a reality. The new day brought many surprises, especially since a little and dark-haired girl named "Vicki" greeted me in a strange monotone. This was a beginning, indeed.