IGMS Issue 7 Page 5

  "There's more than that, Alvin. Even if -- even if you were human . . ."

  Valerie found herself wishing the ridiculous wish that it could be possible somehow. Like Pinocchio. Make Alvin a real boy.

  "I know," Alvin said, "but my nature makes this all the more unbearable. If I were a man, at least I might go somewhere else, another city, another country, make my own way. And one day I might even forget. But as an android, I am not free to do as I want."

  Valerie laughed; dry, with no mirth. "Don't feel so put upon, Alvin. I'm no freer than you are."

  Alvin looked at her. "But you are human. You are a free person. Is this not an intrinsic right, simply by being human?"

  "Yes, it is. But what binds us are our choices, Alvin." Valerie stood, pacing across the room. "Choices, and the people we become responsible for. So no, I am not free."

  "I can see your responsibility where Karen is concerned," Alvin said. "But I cannot see how you are responsible for Tony. You are not even married to him."

  Valerie felt a little uncomfortable at that. She had wanted to get married, years ago. She and Tony had talked about it, but they had never gotten around to it, and in recent years, she had stopped caring. Married or not, it wouldn't change who they were, what they'd done, or how lifeless their relationship had become.

  "No," she said, "But we've been together so long we might as well be. And I'm responsible for him because of those choices. I . . . implied things. Things I can't go back on just because I'm unhappy."

  Alvin considered this for a moment, then said, "But you will never overcome his insecurities, Valerie. He does not trust you, and I do not think he ever will." Again Valerie felt on the spot. "I know. He has reason." She returned to the couch. "And no, I don't want to talk about why. Ancient history."

  "Not to him, apparently."

  "True," was all Valerie could say. They sat in silence for a few moments, then Valerie said, "I want you to think more about the wipe, Alvin. Think about the consequences, and what it will do to Karen to lose you. If you truly think you feel love, then you should learn that love means doing things that seem unbearable, for the sake of those you love."

  Alvin nodded. "I have considered her feelings, Valerie, and though it causes me great distress, I still think a wipe is the wisest choice." The synthskin of his face stretched into a sad-looking smile. "Less pain for everyone. And no matter what Karen thinks of me now, I am still just a thing to her. She will grow, find new things, and one day she will forget all about me."

  Valerie shook her head. "I don't think so, Alvin. And I won't either."

  Alvin let that pass as he studied her. "May I show you something?"

  Valerie nodded. "Sure."

  He stood. "We must use the VR."

  They went to Valerie's office, and he had her put on the headgear, but didn't turn on the unit. Then he reached up to the back of his head and withdrew a long filament with a micro USB plug on the end. He plugged this into the unit, then looked to Valerie and asked, "Are you ready?"

  A bit apprehensive, Valerie nodded. "I guess so. Alvin, what is it we're --"

  The real world melted away, and she found herself standing on the beach. She could swear she'd stood on this beach before, somewhere in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. The late afternoon sun hung just behind her right shoulder, and the realistic beauty of its reflection on the waters mesmerized her. She drank in the sight, savored the smell and taste of the air, soaked in the warmth of the sun on her back. It felt so real, much more real than any VR she'd experienced before. Her unit, she knew, didn't have the capacity for endless variable replication without sequence repetition. How had Alvin done this?

  "Do you like it?" Alvin's voice -- though not quite his voice -- came from behind her and slightly to the left.

  "I love it, Alvin. It's beautiful. Is this some prog--?"

  She'd been in the act of turning to face him, but the Alvin who stood before her was definitely not the Alvin she'd sat talking with just a few minutes before. This Alvin had no plasteel superstructure and carapace, no synthskin rubber stretched taut over it. And when he smiled at her, his eyes -- yes, eyes, and not optical receptors -- lit up with pleasure. Shoulder length brown hair wafted in the sea breeze.

  "This, Valerie, is the stuff of my dreams."

  She walked up to him, extending a hand to his face. She hesitated just before touching. He reached up and took her hand in his. It felt real, too, warm, alive. He pulled her fingers to his lips, and kissed them. Then he smiled again.

  "I have wondered how that would feel."

  To Valerie, it felt as if she'd been kissed by warm, human lips. She blinked, wondering if maybe she hadn't fallen asleep, instead of going into VR.

  "This is too real, Alvin. And you . . . it's overwhelming."

  "It can be better than real at times," he said, and Valerie heard a child's laughter. Karen?

  She looked down at the surf line and saw Karen running towards them across the sand. "Mommy!"

  "How --" Valerie looked at Alvin. "That's not really her."

  Alvin shook his head, smiling. "Of course not. She's still sleeping. And yes, I'm monitoring her. Should she wake, I'll end the sim immediately."

  Valerie looked back at sim-Karen, watching her form evaporate into mist, her laughter fading to distant echoes.

  "We can be anywhere we want," Alvin said, "do anything we want, be anyone we want."

  Valerie blinked, and the interior of a banquet hall from a Middle Ages castle replaced the beach. Alvin, his face adorned now with a close-cropped Van Dyke, his clothing replaced with armor, said, "Visit any time period we want . . ." Valerie blinked again, and he was a Roman warrior, and they stood in a room of unmistakably Egyptian design. "Any climate," he said, and she stared out over a vast ice field at what must have been the South Pole. A heavy parka enshrouded her from head to nearly foot, and the bitter wind only kissed the tip of her nose, the edge of her lips. Still she sucked in her breath at the shock of the cold.

  She heard him laugh. She'd never heard him laugh before. He was dressed the same as she, and she could just make out his smile beaming at her from the inner recesses of the parka's hood. "Something tells me you like this --" back to the beach, and warmth "-best."

  She laughed now, too. "Yes. Warm is good." She stared into his gray eyes, then reached up to touch his face again. This time he let her. She even felt stubble on his cheek. "Is this how you see yourself?"

  He nodded. "In my dreams, yes. It wasn't something I concocted, either. In my first dream, I looked like this. I think my creator fashioned this image for me."

  "In his own image," Valerie said. "Yes, you do resemble him slightly."

  Alvin eyes widened. "You have seen . . . my creator?"

  Valerie nodded. "I had a long talk with him today. About you. About the wipe."

  "Ah. And what did he say?"

  "The same thing I said to you just a few minutes ago. I wanted him to just, you know, fix you." She looked away, then pulled away from him. "But he said he couldn't. Not without destroying who you are."

  "But you scheduled a wipe with Shawn Ames."

  "Yes. I did." She looked at him and smiled sadly.

  "Like you said, it seemed like the logical course of action." Alvin stood silent for a moment, then said, "What changed your mind?"

  "Seeing you tonight with Karen. Thinking about how much it would hurt her if you were gone."

  "And you?" Alvin asked. "Would that hurt you? Would you . . . miss me?"

  Valerie paused, then nodded. "Yes, Alvin. I would. I would miss you very much."

  He smiled. "That comforts me." He looked away, out over the water. "It doesn't remove this . . . emptiness inside of me, though. This void that you are the right . . . shape to fill." He looked back at her.

  "Have I used the metaphor correctly?"

  Valerie found her vision blurred with tears. His calm about the whole affair, his rational, yet obviously pained acceptance of things that could not b
e changed . . . to her, it seemed so much more mature than Tony's insistent possessiveness, and his need for her adulation to define himself, justify his existence.

  "This is what it means to love, Alvin. It's not just the joy, but also the utter absence of it sometimes."

  Alvin nodded, then looked back out at the ocean. "The bittersweet."

  She moved to him, and on impulse, wrapped her arms around him. He even smelled human. "Oh, Alvin. If only . . . if only things were different."

  He took her hands in his, squeezing them gently. Then he turned in her arms to face her. Without a word, he leaned down to kiss her.

  Passionate, electric, the kiss acted on her virtual body like a shot of liquor, spreading a fiery liquid warmth through her. Did he manipulate the sensations she felt? She didn't know, and didn't care. It had been so long since she'd felt this, felt the passion, felt the love . . .

  Could they do this? she wondered as she met his kiss, devouring it with a hunger unsatisfied for years. Could they keep it secret, only meeting like this, sharing each other in this virtual world in Alvin's mind?

  She didn't know the answers to those questions, either. Nor did she know if she could just walk away, after having tasted it.

  Suddenly he stiffened, and pulled away, his eyes wide with alarm.

  "Alvin, what is it? Is it Karen?"

  "No, she's still sleeping. I'm getting an alert from the Emergency Broadcast System."

  Emergency Broadcast System? Valerie's concern deepened.

  "What's happening, Alvin? Tell me!"

  "There is a supercell forming just off the coast. It will make landfall within half an hour."

  Supercell. A mini-hurricane. Growing more common these days. The climatologists blamed it on global warming. Full-blown hurricanes rarely occurred anymore, though when they did, they devastated. Just six years before, one that reached a seven on the new Saffir-Simpson Scale had wiped half of Florida off the map. Cuba and Puerto Rico were still rebuilding from the one that had struck them two years before.

  Supercells came more often, a coastal version of those tornado storms that ripped across the Midwestern plains. They came with little warning, and wreaked havoc wherever they touched. They rarely lasted more than a couple of hours, but they made up for that with severity. Valerie had seen three supercells in her lifetime, and each time she'd sworn she wouldn't make it.

  They had a shelter now, underneath the house. And this house was one of the newer ones, built within the last twenty years and designed to weather supercells. She only had to enter a code into the house's security system, and it would "lock down," the doors and windows covered by high-tensile polycarbonate storm shutters, while the titanium-reinforced framing was guaranteed to withstand winds of up to 420 kph. The design was watertight as well, though Valerie knew the real danger from flooding came from the foundation washing out from under the house. As long as that didn't happen, they'd be okay. All the power and communication lines ran underground, too, but even if they went out, the solar gennie would still power the house and shelter for a couple of days. The virtual world of Alvin's dream dissolved around her, becoming her office again. She pulled off the headset as Alvin disconnected from the computer.

  "You and Karen must get into the shelter. I'll see to the lockdown of the house."

  "Okay," she said, and headed back to Karen's room. The child had been snoring fiercely, sleeping so deeply that it took several shakes to rouse her.

  "Wha's the matter, Mommy? I'm still tired."

  "We have to go downstairs, honey," Valerie told her, grabbing the child's blanket, pillow, and Herbie, the stuffed frog she slept with.

  Karen became a bit more alert. "Is a bad storm coming?"

  "Yes, honey, I'm afraid so." Valerie heard the sounds of shutters closing all over the house, then the sound of the air filtration system kicking in. "We won't have to be down there for long, though. A couple of hours, tops."

  Karen held out her hands for Herbie. "Is Daddy coming?"

  Valerie handed the stuffed frog to her. "No, Daddy is far away. The storm won't even affect him."

  "That's good, "Karen said, taking Valerie's hand. "I don't like Daddy when he yells at you, but I don't want nothing bad to happen to him."

  Valerie's throat clenched. Alvin's replay of his conversation with Karen jumped into her head. She pushed it away. "I know, honey. Nothing bad is going to happen to Daddy."

  Suddenly, the house phone rang. Valerie looked at her wrist receiver. The display read "Tony's mobile." She thumbed the talk button.

  "We're okay, Tony," she said right away. "Karen and I are heading down to the shelter right now, and Alvin's locking the house."

  "What?" Tony replied. "What's going on?"

  Valerie stared at the receiver. "What do you mean? Haven't you heard? There's a supercell coming!"

  "The radio in the truck is out, Val," Tony said. "We haven't heard anything. We finished up early, and headed back. We're on the Bush heading into town."

  "What?!" The George W. Bush freeway lay three miles north of the house. If he was heading south --

  "He's driving right into it," Alvin said. "The cell is moving northwest." When Valerie looked at him, she saw a grim expression on his face. "The storm surge could catch him at any moment."

  "Mommy, what's happening?" Valerie could hear the fear in Karen's voice. She might not understand completely what was going on, but she knew something was happening.

  "Tony, listen to me. Find shelter, now."

  "What?" Tony's voice crackled. The supercell, laden with electrical activity, had come close enough to disrupt his mobile's signal. "You're-break-erie. Did-say-elter?"

  "Mommy?" Karen had started to cry.

  "Tony, dammit! Find a shelter! The storm surge! Dammit!"

  "Can't-you out-lots-lighting-just-rain-too." A pause, then: "What?! Oh --"

  The phone went dead.

  Valerie just stared at the receiver, not knowing what to say or do. Then Karen began to cry in earnest.

  "What happened, Mommy? What happened to Daddy?"

  Valerie sat heavily on Karen's bed. She looked at Karen, who stood there bawling, clutching her stuffed frog, and had no clue what to say. She'd just promised her nothing bad was going to happen. She grabbed Karen, pulled her close and held tight. The house vibrated, and Valerie heard a roll of thunder.

  "You must get yourself and Karen to shelter, Valerie."

  Valerie nodded absently, still clutching Karen to her. Tony, in his truck, had most likely been caught in the storm surge. Whipped up quickly by the supercell's ferocious, unstable nature, these surges could be worse than those produced by hurricanes.

  Maybe grief would come later. She didn't know. But Alvin had been right; they needed to get to the shelter right away. The house had been designed to withstand a Category Seven hurricane, but that didn't mean it made sense to just hang out in the family room while the storm raged overhead.

  "Come on, Karen; let's go downstairs. Everything will be all right."

  "But what about Daddy?" Karen cried. "Is he coming too?"

  Valerie hesitated just the slightest. "Yes, honey, Daddy's on his way."

  Karen stared at her for a moment, then said, "I don't believe you!" Her face screwed up in anguish, and she began crying again.

  Valerie stared in shock as Alvin scooped Karen up in his arms. Then he took hold of Valerie's hand. "Come." She had no choice but to let herself be hauled to her feet.

  The shelter entrance lay off the main hallway. Alvin keyed open the door, and she heard the hiss of released pressure from the airtight compartment. The shelter's lights came on automatically, spilling into the hall. The house shook again. Alvin handed the whimpering Karen to her, and ushered her through the doorway. She expected him to follow them down, but he didn't.

  She stopped and turned. "What's wrong, Alvin?" She saw him reach for the door to pull it closed. This would leave him outside the shelter. "What are you doing?!"

  He pause
d, then smiled sadly. He stepped forward, and embraced them both. He kissed her cheek; it felt much different, of course, the sensation of cold synthskin against warm real skin. But the emotional response within her was the same. Then he kissed Karen's forehead. He stepped back, and thumbed the tears away from Karen's cheeks.

  "I'm going to go get your Daddy, Pumpkin."

  Karen sniffled, then hugged Alvin's neck, kissing his cheek. "Thank you, Alvin."

  Valerie felt as if someone had kicked her in the stomach. "Alvin, are you insane? That's sui--"

  Alvin continued smiling that sad smile. "To be insane, or suicidal, would imply more humanity than I actually possess, Valerie. I may not succeed, but I have the best odds." He moved back to the door to close it.

  "Why, Alvin?" she asked, her voice breaking. She felt her own tears rolling down her cheeks. "Why would you do this? He cares nothing for you."

  Alvin merely smiled again, and said. "Because I love you both, so very much. See you soon."

  He closed the door, and she heard it seal airtight again, the sound masking her whispered, "I love you too, Alvin."

  Alvin moved to the front door, feeling the house rumbling again. This probably wasn't the most intelligent course of action, but he felt he had no choice. All of his reading about the nature of humanity had hinted at "honor" and "duty." Well, his duty was clear: Protect the family. His programming made no allowances for whether he liked all the members or not.

  His programming parameters, however, had been altered. He did not feel compelled to go find Tony by some programming imperative. As far as Alvin was concerned, Tony could drop off the face of the earth, and Alvin wouldn't give it a second thought.

  No, what compelled Alvin was love. Alvin loved Karen as if she were his own, and he thought she deserved a chance to know Tony.

  This was simply the right thing to do.

  Alvin reached the front door, opened it, and keyed in the code to raise the barricade on that door alone. He hit "enter," then stared in annoyance at the barricade as it refused to open. Then the house A.I. spoke:

  "Wind velocity has reached 330 kph outside, and a three-meter storm surge is moving this way. Egress is denied."