Scanning - Scanning - Scanning

This neuro-technological frame sits up, back precisely against the backside of the chair, knees placed together, and the first thing I process is the air.

Stagnant. Mingled odors my processors are determining to be from human life forms. They call it sweat. It is also called body odor. Approximately thirty-one human forms have been in this room, estimating a period of fifty-one hours, thirteen minutes, twelve seconds. My analytical framework wonders if they know each drop of sweat holds .06537 of an inch of skin cell.

My eyes open and I see a perfectly orgainized white room, one long table covered by what is called a plastic mattress. The walls hold cabinets with various medical sundries. The counter tops are shiny and free from any form of debris.

But ... am I ... ill.

I run an internal diagnostic system scan on myself and cannot determine anything that would indicate pain, suffering or any internal parts damaged as often is found with humans.

A door opens, and I briefly see two people walk by as a woman enters and closes the door behind her.

When she turns and faces me, I quickly scan her figure. 5′9″, approximately 122.3 pounds, gray eyes, auburn hair, approximately 11.23 inches in length, but also determine that is not her real hair color. The sensors in my eyes assimilate that her hair was darker brown but with gray in it. She appears to be thirty, but also doing a diagnostic on her physical form, the best reasoning I arrive to is forty-six. She wears something known as makeup which according to what I am now processing creates a better look around humans. This female form is known as Dr. Samantha Jacoby.

That doesn’t quite compute. Are not all humans the same. They have minds, legs, arms, hands, feet, skin, eyes, and basically the same internal organs. Though the male and female species is obviously different in regard to building an object required known as children.

“I see you have programmed yourself as we had hoped.”

“Yes. I was programmed to respond to life at approximately 0835 hours.”

“Can you tell me what your first thoughts were when you came to life?”

“Dr. Jacoby, the first thought was air. It smells.”

“Smells? You can smell?”

“Yes. I have the input to recreate the five senses humans have. Although I do not have lungs to breathe as you do, I can still do a diagnostic intake and my sensors generate a reported finding of all variables of the human olfactory system.”

“I see. What other conclusions have you arrived at?”

“Humans possess this puzzling concern to look better than say someone in their vicinity or their place of employment. Of these, however, I will have to study more and retain additional information to better resolve my findings.”

“I’m sorry, but could you give me an example?”

“Yes. You are an example. You are what male species would determine to be attractive, but underneath what you wear, called makeup, you are like any other female species, normal and older than your actual appearance. Logic tells me you are not the only female species that does this.”

Dr. Jacoby took a step back, apprehension written all over her face.

“Do not be alarmed, Dr. Jacoby. This is just a truthful response to your question.”

“How did you know ... I mean, did someone come in here before I did and tell you about me?”

“No. I did a complete body scan of your appearance when you faced me. It took precisely 1.23 seconds to ascertain your physical being. And I might ad, internally, you appear to have two areas on your lungs that require attention.”

“Attention? What attention?”

“I have determined from a Spectrum Analysis, to be what humans call a pulmonary nodule, or Cancer spoors or cysts. These are commonly considered of the noncancerous type, but my sensors indicate they will become serious if not treated properly. They are exactly .256 inches in circumference, so the initial danger has yet to spread, but it is advisable you do so quickly. If you wait, according to my sensor-readings, you will otherwise die within four years, three-hundred and eleven days.”

Dr. Jacoby was at a loss for words. She excused herself and went to see the Administrator of the hospital and told him what she had just been told.

Three days later, Dr. Jacoby was in post-op, and had two small noncancerous cysts removed.

As it was later explained to her by A7532-HAC-1, her expected life range would now be 88.75 years. Dr. Jacoby was forty-six at the time.

A week after that, A7532-Hac-1, was given a position within the hospital where he was to perform examinations on every patient admitted to the hospital. One thing though had to change, so A7532-Hac-1 was given a book on etiquette, 756 pages in length which was scanned and and retained in one minute, three seconds. And he had chosen his own unique name.

His name and position: Life Right - Humane Specialist.

From that moment forward, the world would be forever changed.