Prologue

“Machines will be capable, of doing anything that a man can do.”

Herbert Simon, 1965

A man sits in a darkened room lit only with a small desk lamp. He is surrounded by old run-down computers and papers tacked to the wall. In front of him is an old brown notebook with what looks like scorch marks on the cover. He slides his wrinkled hand over the cover and opens it to a blank page. The man has shaggy gray hair and glasses with stubble facial hair. He hasn’t shaved in weeks but he strokes his chin as if there is a beard there. Vertically coming down from his right hairline to his mouth is two deep scars as if he was scratched by some beast. He reaches out with his right hand to grab a nearby pen but his metallic fingers can’t grasp it properly. Damn it, I thought I fixed this problem already. He thinks. Wearing an old lab coat that has more rips and tears on it than an orphan’s clothes he reaches down with his left hand into the pocket and pulls out a pen. Just as he puts pen to paper a younger man walks into the room.

            “You must be the only scientist who still writes on paper, Mr. Icarus.” He says.

            “This damn arm is doing it again! Alex, can you come and tighten the bolt right here.” Icarus says. He points to his right shoulder and the young man sighs. Alex walks over to him and picks up a screwdriver.

            “Take off the jacket.” Alex says. Icarus slides it off his right shoulder revealing his whole right arm and shoulder is cybernetic. He tightens the bolt for him and Icarus's fingers open and close.

            “Sir are you almost ready? I know you like to take notes and journal your thoughts but we need you downstairs to authorize the procedure.” The young man says.

            “You joke about me writing on paper but if our power doesn’t come back on after this you realize paper is all we're going to have. I’ll be down shortly, just go over the checklist one more time for me.” Icarus says. The young man nods and before he leaves the room he looks back at Icarus.

            “Sir let me just say what you did going into that warzone and collecting the remains was the most courageous thing I’ve ever seen. We are so lucky you weren’t found.”

            “Heh, the battle was long over and his forces have moved out of the area. What reason was there to stay, he won… Thanks though I appreciate your words.” Icarus says. He leaves the room and Icarus looks at an old photo on his desk. The woman in the photo is smiling and is very beautiful. He turns it over to read the note on the back.

            To the smartest guy in the room, always remember... I’m smarter! Love Rebecca.

He smiles and grabs his pen then leaves the room and walks down a spiral staircase to a laboratory. A holographic display floats in the air between him and four large medical bays. He stares for a moment, unsure of if he should proceed with the procedure. the man from earlier calls out to him.

            Sir, should I begin the countdown? He says. Icarus nods and a countdown appears on the display. He focuses on the female in the tank, staring at her as if trying to communicate. The countdown reaches zero...