“We have the same code.”
“What does that mean exactly”
“We seem to be the same person”
It feels like a black hole has opened in the universe.
The last 50 years have narrowed down to this moment. Technological advancement saves material space by virtualizing every valuable item one could own. From suitcases to dressers, anything could fit into a custom chip inserted behind the ear before birth. The hUman is known for the clever slogan “Putting U in HUMAN.” Not the only technological advancement to happen, an excellent turnout in medical technology saved countless children from premature births by uploading a specialized program file. They called it “BABYtech” the name popularized by the advanced software. Sadly, due to sudden complications several years down the line lead to the ban of this program.
Calypso Ornelas, one of the hundreds saved by the program, stood face to face with a girl claiming the most outlandish thing she had ever heard. Since the day her mother told her of the technology, she was astounded. The ban only excited her more, as the suspicious underlying reasons made her determined to find the truth. Throughout her expeditions, from libraries to university papers, she heard every theory known to the modern man. With research came the cost of hyperbolized and maniacal theories, each one tore apart with logic before moving to the next.
This is out of her realm, she had half the heart to laugh, the other to collapse in shock at the possibility of this being the truth.
“Every person has a customized chip, we can’t be the same,” Calypso, keeping her voice steady, felt the anxiety drip down her spine, one vertebra at a time.
“You also were a respondent to BABYtech and so was I,” the girl spoke slowly, the sentence hung in the air as she made direct eye contact. Her eyes looked excited and terrified, for being such opposite emotions they coexisted perfectly.
Calypso’s head spun, a girl she didn’t even know the name of had come up and rattled off groundbreaking sentences without breaking a sweat or explanation. She lowered her eyes to the girl’s student badge hanging from a lanyard like her own carpeted with the wild blonde hair flowing to reach her waist, Rosalind Daiquiri. They couldn’t be more opposite, appearance-wise, Calypso had shoulder-length brown hair she kept tamed at all times.
“Countless were a respondent to BABYtech, that doesn’t mean we are all the same person,” Calypso decided to say instead of the confused outrage brewing in the back of her mind. She imagines grabbing the girl by her shoulders, giving her a quick shake back into reality.
Rosalind’s face shifts to confusion as she grabs Calypso’s hand before dragging her towards her computer, left on the workbench mere moments before their first interaction. There, laid countless web pages filled with data about chip manufacturing, BABYtech cases, as well as her own chip data.
She took out a memory chip to hand to Calypso’s alarming figure, “So I can prove my statement.”
Calypso hesitated, as chip data is the most sensitive thing you can share with another person.
