The Disparate One

“Rules?” Ray asked, still cuddling his sheet.

Oxford crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, looking at the teen with a serious look. There were too many rules to even keep track of. He was confident not a single one knew all the rules. He admitted, ever since his early days he could only memorize at least 50! That was long ago, now as he tried to call them by memory, he only got to 15.

He had witnessed a lot of individuals getting executed for not following the rules. It got to the point where it had become nothing to them anymore. This was one of the ways to portray life in this artificial world. They couldn’t even call it a ‘world’, they’d rather call it a prison.

“Get yourself freshened up, I’ll tell you what I can remember on our way. I still have a few people to introduce to you,” Oxford told Ray before leaving his sight, he moved to the living room, plopping himself on the sofa.

Thank god I didn’t hire the designer of this piece of shit, he thought, shuffling on the concrete-like sofa.

Ray stretched out his arms and legs on the edge of the bed to bring back free circulation. He could hear each joint popping like popcorns. Once every joint was loosened, he waddled to the bathroom, locking the door. He was somewhat relieved to see Oxford again after that devastating moment.

He wanted to know more about the innocent girl. What they did to her and whether she was still alive or not. Thinking about her, the voices of the guards, made him shiver from the cold water running down his thin body.

After his little crisis in the shower, he snagged the towel from the rack and dried himself in front of the mirror. He was still bothered by the sight of his white irides, and he could tell it was also disturbing the others, hence Chap was so eager to get samples and details.

Putting his white general uniform back on, which he noticed didn’t have any stench or whatsoever, he reappeared to Oxford whose eyes were dozing off.

He cleared his throat as a gentle wake-up call.

Oxford snorted and groaned when he heard the noise. He smacked his lips when he stood up and headed straight to the door without saying anything. Ray followed behind him as usual.

When they were waiting for a lift, Oxford was on his phone when Ray asked, reminding him about the rules he was curious about. He didn’t want to end up with something in him not seeing another day.

Stepping into the elevator, Oxford began stating the rules. Not entirely, but what he could retrieve from his memory.

The first rule stated that all test subjects must follow orders from anyone above them, failing to do so would result in them being either in isolation for a few days to months, or receiving a bullet straight to the head.

The second rule stated that all test subjects must not enter areas where they were not authorized despite having their Guardian with them. Oxford was Ray’s Guardian. Failing to do so would result in the same punishments.

The third rule stated that all test subjects must not retaliate with any sign of violence to anyone above them, doing so would instantly kill them.

The rest of the rules were not so clear anymore due to Oxford’s losing interest. He figured Ray could get to see another day unharmed with those three rules.

Though, this reminded him of one time where Oxford nearly got himself killed by violating a rule, which was to not steal any property from the facility. Thankfully, his predecessor saved his life by proving him innocent, despite knowing he did steal something. His predecessor understood his reasoning because even he had done it before. Unfortunately, his predecessor paid the price for Oxford’s innocence.

It was one of the gruesome memories he had with this place, standing in front of his predecessor’s unresponsive body surrounded by guards.

From that moment on, Oxford promised his predecessor to avenge him, by any means.

The chime of the elevator thankfully snapped Oxford out from his flashbacks. He inhaled heavily and calmly exhaled while stepping out. He brought Ray to another new section of the facility, the Entertainment Section.

This section had the same endless, spacious design of the Manufacturing, though, instead of machines and people covered in sweat and wearing hardhats were people partying like it was the last day on Earth.

The entire section looked like Las Vegas, only chaotic and no streets for vehicles. It had flashy, glistening casinos where people could lose their lifetime savings. It had theaters which some looked like they were designed in the late 90s. There were hotels where drunk people could spend their one-night stands.

In all directions Ray looked, were people turning into wild animals, spraying champagne and other alcoholic beverages into the air, raining down on the crowds. Some were even half-naked, dancing with the banging beats of some electronic music and flashing spotlights and lasers.

Walking across the wilderness, Ray lifted his sleeve to his nose as it was overwhelmed by the scent of tobacco, cocaine, and other addictive drugs which people could temporarily forget where they were.

Ray felt like his ears were bleeding from the deafening noises. He couldn’t even hear Oxford’s voice neither his own.

“WHAT?” he said when Oxford glanced over his shoulder, his lips moving. It was like Ray was watching a movie, only deaf. If only there were subtitles.

After a few more minutes of walking, the wild crowd was now behind them, but their noise and stench were still powerful.

Glancing around, Ray saw people on the side of the path making out like no one’s watching, there were even people rubbing against each other behind the dark alleyways, emitting sounds of pleasure.

Ray stayed close to Oxford, ducking his head. Oxford was glad he didn’t have his male colleagues with him.

At last, Ray noticed they entered through a theatre’s front entrance, passing a sign that said “close”. He thought Oxford didn’t catch it, he wanted to tell him, but the moment they stepped into the building, the atmosphere was significantly peaceful and the air was breathable.

Oxford sometimes visited this section alone, only to have beers. It was his kind of entertainment.

Speaking of entertainment, Guardians, like Oxford, would appreciate it if the management decided to create a welcome video for newcomers, either test subjects or staff, to get a firm foundation of understanding life throughout the entire facility. Since the management did do a lot to improve efficiency and productivity, this idea would save them a lot of time.

The building was empty as expected. Ray rubbed his feet on the lush red carpet behind his Guardian who seemingly knew his way to the large house. Lights in the spacious place were left on, even the ones on stage. In the middle of the stage were musical instruments, resting beside each chair that shaped around the podium where a conductor would stand.

A figure walked on stage on the right side, greeting them with a wide smile that said “hello”. Her body was slim but had curves on each side. Her glistening red velvet gown slid across the wooden floor and down the stairs. Her lively, black hair bounced and flowed over her shoulders like the Niagara falls.

She reached out for Oxford’s hand who was already in the middle of the air.

Oxford introduced Ray to Tria, the owner of this magnificent theatre.

“Oh wow, I thought you guys were joking about this…” her thick French accent bedazzled Ray.

“Believe me, you’re not the only one,” replied Oxford before instructing Ray to take a seat in the middle of the front row.

This is interesting… Ray thought, trying to piece what was in front of him.

When Ray distanced himself from the two, Oxford turned his back against Ray and asked Tria about the products being manufactured in the facility, specifically microbots. Tria shook her head negatively and said,

“You shouldn’t be asking me, Oxford. You know I don’t give a damn of what they produce here. Perhaps Ony and Sion know a thing or two.”

Oxford agreed with her statement, he was asking the wrong person. He just assumed he would get something. They chatted for a few more minutes until he asked Tria about her presentation later. He only received a smile and a paper that contained a list of unknown music titles.

“Just enjoy the show as usual,” said Tria, winking and walking back onto the stage.

I’ll try not to fall asleep this time, thought Oxford. For the 45th time.

Oxford plumped on the seat next to Ray with his tablet in his grasp. Both of them watched as a group of robots appeared on stage and walked over to the seats, grabbing their instruments and tuning for a whole minute.

Another robot appeared on stage, he was the only one wearing clothing, he also had a baton in his grasp, it sparkled like a sword.

Tria returned and joined the two men in their seats while the robots prepared for their presentation. Oxford was already losing interest, but he had no choice but to endure this hours-long session.

Tria nodded at the conductor who glanced over his shoulder. He began moving his stick at the exact time the first note boomed through the auditorium.

Seconds later, Oxford’s body sunk deeper as if he got swallowed by his seat, his back slouched and lo and behold, he was already snoring.

Ray, on the other hand, was staring at the snappy movements of the conductor. He leaned forward, dumbstruck by the quality of the sounds each instrument produced. Every time they struck the drums, it rattled his mind with astonishment. Through the saturated air, he could still identify which note belonged to. He could even tell which music they were composing.

Ray now looked like he was watching a live performance for the first time, it left Tria observing him eagerly. It was her first time to see a test subject get immersed in the sounds of music. Classical ones. It reminded her of when she was a kid, she had the same look on her face the moment her ears heard the first note. The entire performance was composed by her predecessor. It left a great mark on her life.

After a few hours of classical music, Ray leaned back to his seat when the robots stood up and bowed before leaving the stage. Ray couldn’t form words. At one moment, he felt like his mind was on stage, watching each string being plucked and rubbed against.

Tria was honored to see how it impacted the test subject, finally, something new for once!

The auditorium was silent again, except for the echoing snores of Oxford.

Trai rolled her eyes when she stood up, snatched the stylus from his fingers, and dropped it directly into Oxford’s mouth.

Oxford immediately coughed and spat the object out. His eyes widened when he stared at the two. He sighed and waved the flag for the 45th time, admitting that he fell asleep again. He knew his action offended Tria, but she stated long ago that she had gotten used to his lack of dignity to the music that shaped the world.

Tria showed a cocky grin to Oxford who stood up, sniffing and straightening his suit, Ray followed, though he noticed that his uniform didn’t have any crinkles unlike Oxford’s.

After Oxford chatted with Tria, probably apologizing for his rudeness, he and Ray returned to the chaotic world, back to the nature of human beings. Ray placed his arm back to his nose while he followed Oxford who was walking opposite the direction to the elevators.

They arrived at an area where it was somewhat less chaotic. There were pillars of smoke and steam from the foundation of food stalls. Different lighting fixtures hung across above them, some were lanterns. Squeezing through the tight place, Ray could hear the number of different languages being tossed around.

His nose was being seduced by different scents from sizzling plates being served, raw ingredients being cooked, and of course, alcohol.

His skin started to produce sweat when Oxford led Ray to a particular stall, but before they got to it, Ray found one store that was wrapped with white fluorescent lights and other animated decorations which resembled burgers. It was the only place in the area where not a single soul could be seen. And its sign even said “open”. The place was called CanniBurger.

Ray kept his eyes on that bright place when Oxford pressed a paper bag on his chest that was still warm to the touch. Ray stuttered from the sudden contact when he accepted and opened it. In it was a large crumpled tin foil emitting a mouthwatering aroma.

His eyes returned to Oxford whose mouth was already occupied by a juicy, triple cheeseburger. There were little streaks of cheese and ketchup on his lips.

“Try it,” Oxford managed to speak without launching a single piece of food from his mouth.

Ray carefully grasped the tinfoil like playing a claw machine, only instead of teddy bears, his prize was a meal. With his right hand, he unwrapped the tinfoil, revealing the burger that had the identical size of his fist. He admired the trails of grease and other sauces oozing out of the layers followed by steams. He took a normal-sized bite.

Within seconds, Ray could taste all flavors of each ingredient used in this masterpiece. It brought a smile on his face, which pleased Oxford. It was one of his favorites, next to pepperoni pizza.

While eating, they cautiously head back to the elevators, hoping no one would knock their burger off, otherwise Oxford would knock them out.

The space within the elevator was silent, only the munching of the two men could be heard.

Ray was being carried away by the number of flavors that he didn’t notice where they were going until the doors slid open. They arrived at the largest section of the facility, the Manufacturing.

Like the Entertainment section, this section was not just ‘one of the’, but it was the loudest part of the entire facility. Ray and Oxford had to finish their burger fast inside the locker room before putting on the necessary equipment.

Ray replaced his general hat and black shoes with a yellow hard hat and metal boots. They both put on ear protection. He tucked his belongings into the locker which Oxford shared. Once they checked themselves, they stood in front of the large double-door which was already being opened for them to pass.

“Channel 56!” Oxford shouted at Ray, pointing at the metal ear muffs which had a built-in microphone and other features for convenience.

Ray watched Oxford turn the dial clockwise on the right side of the device, he copied him. A female voice started speaking, stating which channel Ray was on. For every turn that was accompanied by haptic feedback, Ray could hear different voices and conversations throughout the section. It made him giggle. Oxford caught that reaction.

At last, when Ray got to the specific channel, he and Oxford walked into the industrial area, walking through numerous catwalks hanging from machines and others that all hung from the ceiling. Looking straight up, he saw a glass hallway hanging above all. It amazed Ray on how much stress the ceiling can go through, he somehow now wanted to meet the engineer of this place. They passed a group of test areas that fascinated Ray; one of the areas had employees testing out some holographic camouflage that changed the original appearance of a robot to a human.

Another test area caught his attention, this time was a pair of employees shooting at each other at point-blank range. However, they weren’t getting shot. Ray stopped for a second when he witnessed one of them snagging a grenade and pulling the pin and keeping it ticking in his hand.

Ray’s front glowed yellow when the explosion occurred. Ray was surprised that no one nearby showed any concern until his eyes were left speechless because the two employees managed to survive without a scratch. Both were even laughing as if it was a joke.

They stopped at a tiny area of cubicles in the middle of the bustling maze. All cubicles were empty, except for one. Ray observed his Guardian enter the tiny space and placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. The man’s head immediately jerked up and spoke to Oxford with a mellow voice.

“Is it ready?” Oxford asked.

“What ‘it’ is ready?”

Oxford sighed, tilting his head and raising his brow. The look he usually gave when reminding someone about something. Oxford slid his hand from the man’s shoulder and gripped the backrest, turning the chair to Ray.

The man had his eyes slightly wide open when he was greeted by Ray’s white irides at the entrance of the cubicle.

“O-Oh! Yes, it is ready,” stated the man.

Oxford gestured to Ray to come closer and shake hands with the other who he introduced to be one of his colleagues, a part of his team, his name was Ony.

Ony was a few years older than Chap but taller. They had the same build and skin tone, though, his eyes were green as emerald and his coal-black hair was slightly longer than Chap’s. His jaw, however, was so sharp that Ony had gotten used to being joked by them asking to open a bottle of beer with it.

“Well, the management really isn’t joking this time around, huh?” said Ony, standing up and tossing on his hardhat.

Oxford nonchalantly chuckled.

“Believe me, they’re not,” he said.

A moment of silence came, Ony took a closer look at the new test subject before remembering his role. He shook his head and gestured to Ray to follow him.

Ray hesitated at first when he glanced at Oxford, who was leaning against Ony’s desk with arms crossed. He nodded at him, signifying the rules he stated earlier.

Across the catwalk, in front of the cubicle, was an area with numerous metal cabinets and toolboxes pushed against the glass dividers. In the middle of it was a large metal table covered with a black pad. Resting on the pad were countless parts ranging from tiny screws to large ones like metal plates. On one side of the area was a large board with blueprints and other pieces of papers pinned to it.

Ray stood before it, trying to piece everything together with just one glance, but nothing came up.

“You only have one simple task. No limited time, but we will still track how fast you are,” Ony spoke.

Ray’s eyes narrowed upon facing him.

“You’ll be building a robot.”