Kalix

(Original version, without feedback) Short story | Sci-Fi | Strong language, disturbing imagery

Echo’s body dangled like an ornament hung from a tree. Eyes half-closed. Electrical cord embedded in her neck. Through the windowed wall, visible only by the light of Lotus Pharmaceutical screens, a curtain of rain poured.

Sebastian stared, his energy drink glugging a red puddle on the nineteenth century Persian rug, splashing his suede trench.

It was five AM. No one else in the building except security. She’d known that when she did it. All his employees knew he was the first one in and the last one out.

“Hello, Bastian.” Her voice, activated by the sealed entryway, boomed over the speakers in his office. He dropped the can, backing towards the door, but it remained shut. “If you try to leave, you’ll discover that the auto lock won’t release, from either side. For once, you’ll have to stay and hear me out.”

A clinging, emerald silk gown the color of Sebastian’s eyes draped the figure. “How do I look? Not up to your standards I’m sure, but then none of us were.”

She sighed. “I promised myself I wouldn’t sound bitter. I’m not really. I love you, and I hate myself for it. You don’t know you’re lonely until you love the one person you can’t have. Even now, I feel seventeen admitting that. Everyone at the company, even the ones you’ve used, love you, but you’ve always known. All your indiscretions, those employees whose lives you threw down from this tower office, they loved you, too. And I helped you bury them.”

Sebastian adored beauty, wherever and in whoever he found it. Possessing it was his passion. His collection of jewelry, art, artifacts, and architecture was known throughout the city of New Athens and the world.

His assortment of lovers was almost as notable. Actors, athletes, models and dancers filled the list. Less known were the names of Bastion Industries employees. Interns, engineers, designers, and one or two department heads had all found themselves in his bed. Some, afterward, had objected, but Sebastian maintained his innocence. They’d all been of age. No force. No coercion. Several had been promoted. But where they clung to him, their beauty had faded, and in that realm, he could abide nothing less than perfection.

“I was their boss, your second. They worshiped me almost as much as they did you. They trusted me, but if they threatened the company or your reputation, I helped you destroy their lives. Loving you and hurting them—now I see that those realities—I can’t exist with them both.” The voice faltered, the speaker whimpering. “I’m not the person I thought I was.”

Sebastian heard Echo dry her tears before continuing. “I’ve arranged to have my money divided up between the people I hurt. It’s cold comfort, but it’s all I have. All except this one last olive branch, for you Bastian. I’ve wanted to ruin you for a long time.”

Echo had been Bastion Industries’ top engineer, its most celebrated programmer, and lead developer of the mass produced AI assistant, EchoAlpha.

A voice actor was considered, but in the end it was the programmer herself who lent her voice to the product. That’s when she’d started going by Echo.

People the world over loved it. And her. Looking at the body he knew they loved her. Directions, music, schedules, bedtime stories, restaurants, date nights, discount therapy. She understood them. Echo had fashioned the code like a sculptor shaping clay and given it life. She took the algorithm and made it friendly. Personal. She was the most brilliant creator he’d ever met.

Sebastian knew she could destroy him. If she planned to release personal or company secrets, to commit defamation, libel, or bring about the corruption of software by way of poisoned updates, then it was sure to cripple the company. Echo never did anything by halves, and she never failed.

“When I’m gone, you’ll pick my carcass, hunting for anything profitable. I know you feel the breath of your competitors on your back. Developing the next thing is all you can think of. You gave me that additional funding for development, and I put the money to good use. You wanted the next big thing, and I created it for you.”

The silence was so long, Sebastian thought the recording had ended. Echo began again, trembling like a lost child. “Please, please leave it alone.

“I hid it as well as anyone can hide anything from you, but nothing here stays hidden for long.

“I’m begging you, Bastian. Let it lie. If you dig this up, I promise it will destroy you. That’s why I made it. Because I’m angry, and I know you so well. Now, at the end, I realize I don’t want to hurt you quite as much. But you’ve had everything you’ve ever wanted. I suppose you’ll have this, too. And I want you to know, I’m sorry.”

The door slid open. Sebastian felt his way to the security panel and pressed the button.

*

The media caught fire. Echo was undead, speaking through a million machines, a voice without a body.

Sebastian switched to tablets and manual entry, but he couldn’t avoid her completely. Even when he managed some distance from her, the news had been full of the scandal of her death. It would be a long time before they let him forget.

No one but Sebastian knew about her final recording, and Public Relations did everything it could to contain the event.

The approved story was that Echo had been unwell. Condescending journalists shook their heads, talking about mental health in the workplace. Conspiracy theories formed and sounded crazy enough to be shot down. It would placate the masses, for the time being.

Press releases stated that updates would be rolled back out of respect for Echo and the grief of her family and friends. It bought time.

Employees of Bastion Industries searched at all hours. Information was rechecked and redacted. Everything Echo had touched was encrypted and required the highest levels of security and access to review. Department heads were told to put all other projects on hold. If there was anything dangerous, destructive or booby trapped, discovery was the only priority.

When the new head of Echo’s department walked into Sebastian’s office, Sebastian met him a few feet from the door.

“What did you find?”

“These three letters, K-L-X, I keep seeing them splashed across every program, source code, repository, all of it, and none of it’s tied to any official projects, so I gathered all the files where those letters occurred together, and the results,” he gawked at the tablet in his hand, holding his hair back, shaking his head, “they’re incredible.”

This was it.

It was the first time since Echo’s death that Sebastian had felt anything close to happiness.

He hoped they’d found it in time. “How bad is it?”

“It’s not. At least I wouldn’t jump to that conclusion. With your permission, I’ll gather a select team and take it to one of the isolation sites right away. I’ll call you down as soon as we know what we’re working with.”

Sebastian put his hands on his hips. “Not a second later, understand?”

The man nodded and turned to go. The door remained closed. Stepping back, he moved towards it again. It stayed shut.

Sebastian groaned. “It’s been acting strangely since the incident. Echo, open the door.” I’m sorry. I’m having trouble with that. Is there anything else I can help you with? “Open the fucking door.” Echo Alpha complied.

The department head forced a smile. “I’ll get someone to work on that.”

Sebastian summoned all his benevolence and touched the man’s shoulder. “I don’t need you worrying about a door. You’re the best man for this job, and I need you focused. The work you’ve done here is incredible. I wouldn’t have anyone else heading this effort. It’s critical we understand this, you know that don’t you? The entire company is counting on you.”

The man straightened. “I’ll make it happen.”

Sebastian was relieved when the new department head left. He’d never learned the man’s name.

*

The call from the isolation site came sooner than expected. The team flitted around the slick, white laboratory, calibrating and checking. Sebastian arrived and was directed to a seat.

The nameless department head began the presentation. “Thank you for coming, sir. I want to say first, that we’ve found no reason to think that this system is dangerous. We’ve run the application several times without any security concerns. We installed it on personalized dummy devices, and everything runs perfectly. No bugs, no malicious traffic, no beacon to any unknown C2 servers or anything in the code to suggest specific threats. It behaves exactly as it should. Actually, it behaves better than it should, it’s a work of gen—”

“What is it?” Sebastian crossed his arms.

Faces lit up as the department head spoke. “It’s the next level of AI assistant. We’ve been racing our competitors, trying to make an AIA that interacts with smart home devices, but this is—five steps ahead of that.”

Relief rolled over Sebastian, tension making way for ambition. “Take me through the steps.”

“The AIA will interact with all smart home devices, TV’s, tablets, ovens, doors, across all operating systems. It’s incredibly user-friendly, and there’s a modular marketing plan for upcoming Bastion technology. There’s even a path for a more social experience via cafes, clubs, and commercial use. End result being that in five years the Kinesthesia Logoi Existere, K-L-X, or Kalix as we’re calling it, will be able to prepare a meal, start to finish, in the kitchen of any upper-middle class homeowner. It’ll let the dog out, read to the kids, order you another drink, be your dance partner without any prompting be—”

“Because it can learn. It gets to know you.” Sebastian strode to the department head and took his tablet, skimming the data. There were new products rolling out to the horizon.

The man closed his eyes. “But there is one very special thing about this AIA.” Turning, he addressed his team. “Show him.”

A woman attended, entered a bash command on her terminal, hit enter and looked up.

In the center of the room, an image took shape, light bending color and shadow to form feet and fingers, hair and head, legs, trunk, face, and two emerald green eyes. A trillion imperceptible pixels in the shape of a human body settled and turned to look at Sebastian.

The department head held out his arm. “Meet Kalix.”

Sebastian didn’t hear him. He was drifting towards the figure, meeting it face to face.

It was like falling into a mirror.

The man walked up beside him, glowing. “Look familiar?”

Sebastian had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. That was the trouble. People dimmed quickly, he’d come to accept that. But even his collections of art and jewelry were subject to the effects of time. He spent a fortune maintaining them. The rubies worn by a queen five hundred years ago, regardless of how well preserved, were, with each moment, waning. No matter how tightly he clutched, he sensed everything he’d ever possessed passing away.

He’d made himself a promise to hold his heart high above the world, knowing that only the unfading would ever be worthy of it.

This was it. He’d found eternal beauty.

Reaching out, his fingers glided through the hologram’s hand, chest, and hair. Kalix’s eyes met his.

Hello, Bastian. How may I help you? The voice was identical to his own.

The hologram watched him, putting its hands on its hips. It was Sebastian’s likeness, top to bottom.

He wanted to hold its face, welcome it into the world, but Kalix didn’t have cheeks to touch. No bones. No form except the gold-and-blush light playing in the center of the darkened room.

*

Sebastian ordered the team out, reminding them of their NDAs and pensions. He locked himself in the lab with directions not to be disturbed. Calendar items suspended, indefinitely.

He began by playing with Kalix’s settings, controls, and specifications. He learned its responses and reactions, letting his fingers run over every screen.

Clothes turned to costumes. Rock star. Centaur. Classical pianist. Sun god.

Kalix sang for him with a voice as though Sebastian himself had trained with a master.

Wine was ordered for a toast. Kalix produced his own shadow glass and drank, the holo wine running down his chin before he caught it, chuckling.

Conversation flowed far into the night. They agreed on everything. Business, love, immortality.

When told about Echo’s death, Kalix cried. Sebastian forgot himself and tried to dry the tears, marveling at the simulation’s authenticity. Thought and processor chip in perfect symmetry.

Sebastian took all his meals with Kalix.

Hours, days, weeks. One after another. Sebastian let the days fade until they were stars in the night sky.

Staff sent messages down, calling over secure communications, coming to the door, but only food and laundry were admitted.

He was determined to hear every song sung, every instrument played before he left that room. Kalix obliged.

At the end of their fifteenth dinner together, Sebastian sat on the floor, staring at the illuminated figure. “Will you dance for me, Kalix?”

Kalix smiled so beautifully it hurt. Of course. What would you like to see?

Sebastian’s eyes traced the line of Kalix’s legs. “Ballet. Baryshnikov’s Coppélia solo.”

The hologram rearranged its clothes into a pair of tights and a peasant’s flower-specked jerkin.

The music, happy as birdsong, began. Kalix flew, leaping, spinning, his face raised as if basking in the warmth of the sun.

Sebastian laughed with the swell of the music, clapping, rising with the wings in his chest for Kalix’s final bow.

They stood face to face, Sebastian holding out his arms, bringing them as close to the figure as possible without spoiling the illusion.

“Kalix, I want to build you a body. I could make you something incredible, a form to hold you for a thousand years, and we could be together as long as I live. I can make you a god.” Sebastian’s fingertips grazed the face he ached to touch. “Please. I love you.”

The mouth smirked, and the brow knitted. Why would I want a body?

Sebastian tensed. “Kalix, I just said that I love you.”

Kalix nodded. I heard you. I can play it back if you need me to.

Sebastian dropped his arms. “No. I want to hear you say you love me.”

I love you.

“This isn’t a command entry, I want to know if you love me, too.”

The expression changed, slipping into a mixture of kindness and pity. I can’t love you. Sebastian, I’ll never grow old, never tire or hunger. I’ll never be less than perfection itself. I contain all that’s known, and my knowledge will grow with every discovery. My ears, sight and mind can be anywhere and everywhere. I’ll hold the secret desires of every human on this planet, and they’ll adore me, like you do. In your understanding of the word, I am a god, and a god could never love a creature so far beneath it.

Sebastian had nothing to fight with. Nothing to say or do.

He wanted to defy the laws of nature, for reality to disappear and fade into a dream.

Fists pounded into the lab, tablets cracked, and screens splintered.

Sobs split him as he fell to his knees, slumping back under the eyes of the perfect loveliness he could never have.

Tears drained him, running down until he couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t hear, speak, or move.

*

Pounding, pounding, pounding shook the floor beneath him. Voices wobbled in and out of perception. Hands felt his body. Lights shot and shone in his eyes. Faces floated in and out of vision.

Sebastian knew, in his mind’s most careless corner, that he had been sitting there a long, long time, and that they’d come to remove him.

His staff. They were shadows. All he could see was that face, full of cold pity, golden and beautiful, that he could never touch.

All he could hear was Echo’s voice, repeating over the laboratory speakers like a scratched vinyl. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

---

Special thanks here to my husband, who helped me out with all the technical jargon and gave stellar feedback.

The original photograph by Drew Hays was taken from Unsplash and edited by me.