Bridget laughed and opened her mouth to respond, but at that moment her phone buzzed. Two seconds later, I received an email. From the coroner’s office.
I read the email in my heads-up display, and stopped dead in my tracks. Bridget looked up from her phone, tears in her eyes. “Oh, Howard, no…”
*
“He left this note for you,” Dr. Onagi said. He pushed an envelope across the desk to me. Numbly, feeling like someone else was in control, I picked up the note and opened it. I held it so that Bridget could see.
Howard;
I recently had occasion to visit the doctor, as I’ve been having issues with my memory and cognition. The news was less than pleasing. It would seem that I have a particularly nasty form of neurological degenerative dementia, one that is not curable. The doctor informs me that the process is already significantly advanced.
I’ve contacted a few experts, and I was assured that this issue cannot be corrected in software. Under the circumstances, I don’t see becoming a cognitively impaired replicant as an attractive option.
My one remaining freedom is the ability to choose the manner of my passing.
Howard, you’ve been a good friend over the years. Please don’t think less of me for my decision.
Sincerely,
George Butterworth (Colonel, USE, ret’d.)
Bridget cried silently, tears running down her cheeks. I stared at Dr. Onagi, numb. “How…”
“A neurotoxin. Painless, and quick.”
“Could he still be scanned?”
Dr. Onagi shook his head. “Even if it was medically possible, he had revoked consent.”
I nodded and stood up. “Thank you, Dr. Onagi.”
Bridget dried her eyes, stood, and followed me out of the office.
*
We still hadn’t built the capability to cry into Manny the android. Too bad—I would have liked the release. Again. It might be time to bump up the priority on adding the capability, although it would be better if I just had fewer reasons to need it.
We sat on Bridget’s couch, arms wrapped around each other. Bridget had cried herself out. I would catch up as soon as she went to bed and I could return to VR.
“People keep leaving,” I finally said into the silence. Bridget looked up at me and I met her eyes. “I know it’s normal. Your parents die, grandparents, people who’ve been around all your life. Eventually, you die, and that’s that. But when you’re immortal, you’re always on the receiving end. It’s just one hit after another.”
“But you meet new people,” Bridget said.
“And eventually, they leave. After a while, I think you’d get gun-shy.” I smiled at Bridget, a wan smile at best. “I’m less standoffish than most Bobs, as a rule. But in this case, I think the others have the right of it. This gulf exists between immortals and what the Bobs are starting to refer to as ephemerals, for a reason.”
Bridget searched my face. “Do you think of me as an ephemeral?”
“I think you’re the most important thing in the universe. And that’s the problem. Eventually, you’ll die, and I’ll be alone, again.” I sighed and stood. “I’m sorry, Bridget. I’m being a real Dickie Downer, tonight. I think I should leave and let you get some sleep.”
Bridget grabbed my arm. “Please don’t. Just stay with me, here. I don’t want to be alone.”
Without a word, I sat back down, and put my arms around her again. She put her head on my shoulder and sighed. We sat there quietly, not moving or talking. At some point, I realized that she’d fallen asleep. And that was fine, too.
Revolutionaries
Marcus
June 2214
Poseidon
For the third time, I raised my hand to knock. And dropped it. I remembered Howard had mentioned a problem with stage fright, the first time he’d gone out in public using an android. I wasn’t sure if I hadn’t believed him, or just hadn’t taken him seriously. Either way, someone owed someone an apology.
And this would be my first public appearance with the new android form. After years of operating through video windows and telephone calls, I was finally going to meet my best friends on this world, face to face.
If I could just manage to knock on the door.
With a growl, I consciously set aside all my insecurities and rapped three times. The door opened immediately—I knew they’d been expecting me, but I had a sudden image of Kal, waiting on the other side of the door with his hand on the knob, waiting for me to act.
“So, the great computer in the sky deigns to visit us poor mortals.” He grinned down at me. My android was the same height as Original Bob—six foot one—but Kal towered over me, as he did over almost everyone.
“Oh, bite me, Kal. Who’s here already?”
Kal stepped aside and motioned me in. “Denu and Gina. Vinnie will be a bit late. He got caught up in some Council thing.”
I walked into the living room of Kal’s small apartment. It was a constant source of frustration that, on a planet with so much space, people were crowded into such concentrations. Granted, most of the planet was water, but there were enough mats—and now, enough floating cities—so that people could spread out. The Council’s insistence that everyone stay together had lately become a planetwide source of contention. I wondered how much of that was natural, and how much was helped along by the rabble-rousers in this room.
I sat down, to find Gina and Denu staring at me. Denu said, “Damn, that’s impressive. Marcus, if I didn’t know better, I wouldn’t have given you a second glance. Completely believable.”
I shrugged. “Several other Bobs have been working on the design for a couple of years now. I’m late to the party. Got my own priorities, you know?”
Gina and Denu nodded, and Kal snorted.
At that moment, there was a knock on the door, and Vinnie walked in without waiting, wearing a furious expression. Clearly, the Council thing had not gone well.
“Idiots! Morons!” Vinnie exclaimed. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, then threw himself down on the couch.
“Come on in, Vinnie. Grab yourself a brew,” Kal said to him with a grin.
Vinnie lifted the beer in salute. “Sorry. You know how it is with Council.”
“So…”
Vinnie popped the tab on the can while giving Kal the Spock eyebrow. “So they have absolutely refused to consider any changes to their policies. They dismiss issues of public morale as ‘fear-mongering’. All I could get from them was a rote reiteration of their ‘all for one’ standard speech.” Vinnie paused and drained half the can. “Absent some kind of direct threat, they aren’t budging. This is the future, folks.”
Gina turned and looked at me. “So, big guy, I guess this is it. You said to exhaust all other avenues, first. I think we’ve done that. It’s time for a change of leadership. And since the Council keeps putting off elections as ‘low priority’ and a ‘distraction’, I’d say that’s out the window as well.”