A man stood before us.

His lab coat flowed behind him as he made his entry. The Suited man's skin was like bronze chiseled from the Earth; his many wrinkles and thinning hairline revealed his possible age, which seemed to be in the later fifties or even sixties. The man also had rimless glasses, which were held in place with the furrow of his brow. He was well dressed, wearing the coat over his sleek suit and tie—all the superiors wore clothes similar to this. Thus the reason why I and the others found it fitting to refer to them, between ourselves, as the Suited men.

Though he was long past his prime, he was a tall man, about six feet and towered over me. There was also a firmness about him despite his neutral demeanor. His presence alone was enough to order my stillness and complete attention.

Staring at him more intently, I couldn't help but wonder why he seemed so familiar, like I've been in his presence before. But I didn't know how that was possible if I've never seen him. In spite of this fact, nostalgia continued to peck at my brain.

Suddenly, he smoothed out some of his wrinkles with a friendly smile. Though smiling was a gesture that often calmed me, an ice-cold shiver struck my back when he did. I darted my eyes to the ground. There was just something unbecoming about it, something... unnatural and not truly genuine.

Gazing at my caretaker, the doctor said, "Good afternoon Mr. Collins. Please, I'm Dr. Asad. I do hope things have been going well for you during your time here." His English was near perfect, but because of his slight accent one could most likely tell his dialect originated in the Middle East, perhaps Iran.

Upon hearing Dr. Asad's voice, my passivity was multiplied by seventy. I remembered his voice so clearly. There was no doubt in my mind that he was the man who'd examined me shortly after I was born, the one who gave me the barcode on my wrist. Since my vision was blurry during that time it was impossible to recognize him visually, but my hearing being as sharp as it was allowed me to know beyond any doubt that it was him.

The revelation caused the hairs on my body to stand, the force was so strong I felt my skin lift from the muscle underneath. I became horrified as the two men continued to talk.

"Oh, yes. Things have been... just fine, actually. The people are nice, the food is great, and some of the equipment you guys have here blows me away, like the smart beds, for example. I hope people'll start incorporating these things into all the different market places," he said, smiling. "And Two-Sixty... he hasn't been hard to deal with honestly. He's been very good."

Surprisingly, Joseph was at ease when he replied. His facade was plastered so tightly onto his face, that even I almost believed it and forgot that only a minute or two ago he shook like a leaf separated from a tree.

"Don't worry. In due time, everywhere will have these devices. Also, it pleases me to hear that you're handling this job quite well, considering it is your first time caring for an Artificial Human. Perhaps this won't be your last time here," he said. "You haven't been intimidated at all, have you?"

"Oh, no. I believe my background as a physical therapist guided me through all the tough areas," he said. "With the patience and strength especially."

"Indeed," the doctor said, then turned to me as if he'd been waiting for this moment. "Goodness, he's a beautiful child. I'm so proud."

His dark eyes of ebony brightened with interest as he stared me down, taking in my existence. But could anyone blame him for his curiosity? He stood before a living and breathing organism he helped to create. If it were me wearing the suit and tie, I don't know how I'd contain myself.

Leaning close to me, he asked, "And how about you, Two-Sixty-Eight? How are you feeling today?"

Him speaking directly to me made my body shake. My fingers clamped into each other painfully. The man had made such a huge deal of not messing up in front of him that I found it hard to function. But then I remembered the promise I'd made to him to comply.

The pace of my heart quickened and drummed loud within my ears. Not desiring to disappoint him further, I spoke. But my mouth opened twice before anything came out.

"B-Bad," I said honestly, not favoring the situation I was in.

Lifting a gray eyebrow, he said, "Bad?"

Quickly, the man chimed in. "Earlier, before you came, he complained that he wanted to go to his bed. He just wants to sleep, is all," he said, hoping it would dilute the situation.

Believing him, he said, "Is that so?" Doctor Asad straightened, but before he stood all the way, something seemed to catch his eye. "Alright then. But before I begin, explain to me, Mr. Collins, why you came with the wheelchair. Is Two-Sixty-Eight unable to walk?" He bobbed his head to where the folded chair was. "Did you place it there as an attempt to hide it from me?"

There was an underline, dark tone in Asad's voice when he asked the question. And the intrigue which had shone from his eyes only seconds ago, suddenly transformed into a sharp, pointed glimmer as if reflecting off the polished blade of a dagger.

Swallowing, the man's eyes widened slightly. He didn't know how to answer the question. Should he lie, should he tell the truth—what would be the result if he did? I was sure he didn't know, but that was irrelevant. The man had to give an answer quick, or else he'd make himself seem suspicious.

"No, no. That's not the reason," he lied. "We practiced walking for a while before we came here. He became very tired, so I tried to help him out and decided to wheel him here. And the reason for it being folded in the corner over there was because I thought it needed to be out of the way."

Remaining stiff, the old man asked, "Are you sure?"

Silence hung in the air so thick, one would need a knife to slice through it; though it lasted for a moment, it felt much longer.

"Yes," the man finally replied, clearing his throat afterward.

Thankfully, the doctor relaxed at his answer. "Very well," Asad replied, clicking his pen. He then pulled his black clipboard, which held a substantial amount of paper, to the front of him. "I trust your word."

Gazing at the man's face, I could tell he cursed himself inwardly. But his features calmed yet again once Asad began to speak.

"If that's all, it's about time we should begin."

Immediately, his attention was on me.

Asad came closer to the cushioned table until he was right in front of me. He didn't move after that, it was as if he waited for me to do something. But I had no idea what he possibly would've wanted me to do, so I kept my eyes glued to the floor.

"Look at me," he commanded in a low voice and I obeyed. From what I could remember, there wasn't a trace of malice when I looked up at him. Yet. He then ordered me to give him my hand and I did.

"Excellent. It appears he can understand simple commands."

Dr. Asad went on to inquire with Joseph about my learning progress and other miscellaneous things concerning the subject.

Seeming to take notice of my nervous quivers, Asad softened his features once again, relaxing the furrow in his brow.

"I can see you're quite anxious. Are you not happy to see me?" I wanted to shake my head with much vigor but I wasn't too sure what the outcome would've been, so I remained still. "Your silence hurts because I thought it was nice to see you again. Don't you remember? I'm the doctor who took care of you right after you were born, so there's no need to be afraid of me or the others. Well," he said humorously, "at least, not yet. But in the meantime do your best to make us happy, alright?" His smile was as twisted as a DNA helix.

"Now, tell me, Mr. Collins," he continued, "did you have any problems with his belly button stump? Did any rash develop? Was there any sign of irritation?"

Grabbing the end of my shirt, he lifted it. I stiffened, keeping my eyes forward and focused on the door. Heat filled my cheeks as he stared at my bare flesh. I almost felt as if I couldn't breathe with him invading so much of my personal space. It was like a skin-tight bag was wrapped around my head, not allowing any air to pass through.

I wanted him to turn away, but I bit my tongue and didn't say anything. Only Joseph's eyes had seen under my clothes, so I was comfortable with him, but not with anyone else.

After pondering for a short moment, Joseph answered, "No, not at all. I did my best to keep it and the skin surrounding it dry. It just shriveled up and fell off the other day, actually."

"And how many days ago was that?" Asad asked, inspecting my navel.

"Two."

"Alright, I don't see anything concerning." Asad fixed my shirt and I felt relieved.

Pulling out his stethoscope from his coat's pocket, he went on to listen to my lungs and heart to ensure no defect had occurred in either organ, during the week. The instrument was cold against my skin. A trail of ice was left whenever he slid it across my chest and back, but I tried my best to remain still despite my uneasiness. When he'd finished, he was pleased to say my heart was normal and that my lungs were completely clear and no longer held any mucus inside.

Placing his stethoscope back inside his pocket, he said, "Two-Sixty-Eight, lie down for me please."

My initial response was hesitation but I forced myself and did what was asked of me. The paper I sat on made irritating, crumbling sounds as I reluctantly lied down. Joseph came, gripping my underarms and pulled me up further, so my legs no longer dangled.

"How has his appetite been?" Asad asked with clipboard in hand, checking for my weight at the side of the examination table. "Any troubles? Does it fluctuate between days?"

"Hm, no, his appetite's been just as I've been told it would be. Enormous; the boy never tires of the milk. And I'd say his hunger is fairly consistent," he replied. "What do you put in that stuff, if you don't mind?"

Sitting on his mobile stool, the balding man chuckled. "It's a secret. But I will explain to you the obvious: he was born with the height of 5'4 and weighed approximately 104 pounds. But now, seven days later, he weighs in at 119 pounds and grew two inches."

"That's amazing."

"Very much so, and the reason for an AH's polyphasia, is because they're born so underweight. To compensate and ultimately counteract this, their appetites are hyper-active for the possibility that more food would be consumed. Then, eventually they'd pack themselves full of fat and nutrients.

"However, as they stabilize, they should have an appetite similar to ours. Since we don't have time to waste, the milk is a convenient asset for us in forcing their feeble bodies to grow and strengthen at a time frame that accommodates us. They should be weaned off it in about a month and completely into solid food."

After the conversation, the Suited man went on to test other things. For example, my reflexes, and cognitive abilities, which entailed the recall of my memory from lessons past. He even brought me a large, bright-colored children's book to read from. As I read, I wasn't perfectly fluent and paused at times, yet I managed to get through it and the doctor seemed pleased with my progress.

After Asad wrote down his analysis, he stood.

"Finally, now that the nitty and gritty is over, it's time I see how well the AH can walk. Stand him up for me, if you will."

Immediately, the man answered, "Of course." He attempted to keep his voice smooth, free from any strain that would make his apprehension obvious. He had no desire to appear suspicious to the intimidating man in the white coat, but as he sat me up I could see that an alarm blared within his unnerved eyes. It indicated his fear.

"Mind if I... ask what happens if one wasn't able to walk properly?"

Pushing his glasses up with his index finger, he said, "Well, that's rather interesting. I believe you're the first to ask me such a question. Is there a reason?"

"Ah, no. I was, uh, just curious."

"Really, now?" he replied, scrutinizing Joseph. "If you're that interested then I guess I'll tell you. Primarily, there would need to be a search to find a deformity somewhere, whether internally or externally; because usually when an AH exhibits signs of having a set back of any kind even as small as not being able to read or remember properly, there is a noxious underlying cause to it.

"A lot of the time but not always, we will find different kinds of cancers or tumors that are difficult for us to treat because of its aggressiveness, or its placement is deemed inoperable because of its location near a vital structure."

"So most die from these progressive diseases?"

"No. Most were killed by a disease unknown to the world we called Messino Idiopathia. We began the experiment with 550 AHs, however, this disease took 30 percent of them. We've discovered that it only affects them while they're still developing in utero.

"One day we would check on them and they'd be fine, but then, a few days later they'd be shredded in pieces. It's similar to a flesh eating disease called Necrotizing Fasciitis, but not entirely, since the end result is ten times as tragic; it's a nasty thing but it only affects the AHs, so thankfully we don't have to worry about it."

I also listened to Asad explain this, but I at the time didn't understand most of what he talked about, so I remain quiet. The man glanced at me, disheartened, seeming as if his spine had just been pierced. His calm stature, his forced confidence—they vanished. All that probably ran through his mind was the fact I could actually be suffering from a fatal type of cancer or tumor. He probably thought of my foot and how difficult walking was for me.

Thankfully, there wasn't anything too obvious about my deformity except that it made my foot turn inwardly. As I recall this memory, I could tell it broke him to pieces. Yet, since I wasn't able to fully comprehend what Dr. Asad was explaining, I couldn't understand why the man became so discouraged.

Asad continued. "Testing would be required and if a disease is confirmed then they are to be—" He stopped abruptly, seeming to have almost said something he shouldn't have.

Correcting himself, he said, "No matter what the case would be, we would try our utmost best to try and cure them, or even attempt to extend their lives a bit longer. Yet, the discovery is just an early indication that the subject won't last very long anyway. Death would be inevitable. So really, the kindest thing to do would be to euthanize them, humanely, of course. Unfortunately, they're exceedingly prone to vast amounts of diseases the first few weeks of their life. But by the time their powers develop is when we usually deem them truly healthy."

"Why... why is it that so many die of disease?" Joseph asked, his breath shaken. "Could it be because... their DNA and genes have been messed around with so much? Do you think maybe the DNA mixing, or whatever you guys do to create them has caused so many of these illnesses and deformities?" AHs didn't come to be from simple, one dimensional means. No one had to explain that to him.

The doctor's brows knitted together. "You tell me, Mr. Collins. Why do so many die of disease?" When he remained silent, Asad spoke instead. "You're becoming a bit too curious, for my taste. You asked a question, I answered it. If you aren't satisfied with the answer just spit it out." With his quick words and strict tone it was obvious he was vexed.

"N-No, that's not it—"

"Good. I'll leave those answers to your imagination then. Are you satisfied now?"

"Uh, yes. O-Of course."

While the Suited man turned to get a drink from the water dispenser, the man took advantage of the opportunity and spoke to me. Although, his tone was less urging as it was before because he realized the situation wasn't as black and white as he initially thought it to be.

"Two-Sixty." He spoke softly to me. "Try your best, and don't give up so easily. Remember what we talked about... but also don't forget that I'll be proud of you no matter the outcome."

Suddenly, the man's words ceased. Asad had turned around after disposing of his cone-shaped, paper cup. In the span of a few seconds, the man had done his best to lift me off the table and into a standing position on the floor.

The moment the bottoms of my socks hit the ground was when I felt my heart accelerate. I subconsciously clung tightly to the man's white and black, uniformed shirt for stability as if I were embracing him. Aware of the numbness radiating throughout my leg, I already knew I wasn't going to succeed; there was virtually no strength in my calf, and my ankle didn't feel too strong either. Despite being only a week old, I wasn't completely clueless.

"C'mon, let go. You knew this would happen." Grabbing my arms, he gently tried to pry my clamped fingers open. "Don't be afraid. I'm here, remember?"

Desperately, I wanted to obey him but I was just so scared of falling; the times of when the man failed to catch me had been brought back to my memory and I wasn't fond of them. But without taking too long, I finally relented and released his clothing.

"Good boy. Now, I'm going to take a few steps away but I need you to stay right here. Okay?" he said, all the while Asad observed us.

Stay here?

"O-Okay." My unsteady voice revealed my nerves.

When the man stopped, he only had stepped back about five or seven feet. It wasn't an impossible distance but I still groaned inwardly at the challenge. Asad came from behind me to see the process more clearly.

Not satisfied with the space, he said annoyed, "What's this? With one step he'll be already clinging to you. Go back further."

It was then when the distance between us gravely intimidated me; but the man tried to calm me by gesturing to me to pay attention to him rather than the gap. But it didn't help one bit.

"Walk," Asad ordered.

I wanted to refuse but the man's hopeful eyes moved me forward. Keeping my arms semi spread out for balance like how he'd taught me, I first stepped out with my left foot, but with much haste so as to not leave all of my weight reliant on the one with the problem. But after that, it was like I mimicked a catatonic person. I was frozen in place, afraid to brave the next step because I was sure my crippled foot wouldn't catch me. I couldn't convince myself otherwise.

Worried, the man spoke up before Dr. Asad had a chance to. "Two-Sixty, don't stop. C'mon, you're almost here. Keep walking." But... you so far. "When we're done here, I promise I'll take you to your bed. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Bed?" I asked in a slightly perked tone, forgetting for a second what my situation was.

"Yes, the faster you come to me, the quicker I'll take you."

It didn't take long for the man to realize that his cunning bribe had worked. At last, I slowly picked up my other leg to walk and gently set it back down. However, a wave of pins and needles pierced through my limb. I lost my balance for a moment, swaying to my right. When the fall seemed unavoidable the man fought not to run to my aid and catch me. Although, I managed to save myself by hopping on my left foot until I regained my composure.

By that time, the Suited man already caught a glimpse of my not-so-straight foot and continued to eye it with an intense glare. It was obvious that by the look on his face he was appalled by my pitiful performance—unable to even walk two feet without getting thrown off balance. However, I was sure the reason why he didn't interfere was because he wanted to see how far my determination would go and whether I'd make it to the man or not.

Setting my right foot down again with care, I was relieved that I didn't fall. It was such a close call.

Not sure about continuing, I looked up at Joseph. Desperation engulfed my eyes as I said, "Done?" In my periphery I saw Asad's glare evolve into a slight scowl.

"N-No, not yet. But you're so close to being finished," he said with a smile gracing his face. I could tell he was nervous but he was still genuine. "I'm already so proud of you."

Proud... of me? Though I hadn't yet made it to him, he was still proud and his arms were wide open, ready to embrace me. That's what pushed me further. Tenacity helped me place one foot in front of the other. I walked with a limp; my steps were awkward and appeared unsure but I kept forcing myself even though I felt that my leg was about to give out. I desired to show the man I could do it. No more excuses.

Soon, I became so close to Joseph that I felt as if I could touch him. I flung my arms forward, but it was an unfortunate mistake. Had I known my weight would be thrown to the front so suddenly I would've never done it. The sudden shift caused me to lose balance and out of pure instinct I tried to catch myself with my right foot. Yet, the weight was too much for my leg to bear and as a result I crumbled to the ground with a slam.

My reflexes forced my arms forward, which protected my face from being smashed against the hard, tiled floor. Realization that I was no longer standing soon hit.

Looking up at the man's horrified face, I knew that I'd failed. 

_____________

Hey guys, hope you enjoyed!

Did the explanation about deformities/tumors/cancers make sense, or do I need to go back and explain more clearly???

Do you think Joseph should've honest, or was lying necessary?

Anyway, see you guys next week!