A/N: A followup short to the Twilight Zone episode "I Sing The Body Electric".
Grandmas Always Know
You're traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. That's the signpost up ahead - your next stop, the Twilight Zone!
Most people have someone in their lives that they make a special connection with, be it friend, family, a teacher or perhaps even a physician. An invisible bond that goes beyond the normal and can have a strength and a reach that defies explanation. Our case in point is a bond that originates in one and stretches to the other...while running through the Twilight Zone.
"What happened?" Tom Rogers asked his sister Karen without preamble as he bolted into the hospital room.
"It happened just after you left to go to Europe; she was in some type of automobile accident. She hasn't regained consciousness since."
"That was two weeks ago!"
"I know, I tried to get into contact with you but I always ended up being one step behind until my telegram caught up to you in Germany."
Dr. Sanders, who had been standing off to one side unnoticed by the young man, spoke up. "Mr. Rogers, I'm Dr. Sanders and I've been caring for your sister here at the hospital. I want to assure you we're doing everything we can and she is in no immediate danger."
"How about non-immediate danger?" he asked.
"Well, that's a bit more difficult to say. We're dealing with what must be some type of head injury, but we really don't know everything there is to know about what goes on up there. We can't even be sure that she doesn't hear us now; it's possible that she can but is unable to acknowledge us. There are documented cases where a familiar voice, song or sound has caused a reaction. That's why I'm glad you both are here."
Tom stepped up to his sister's bed and took her hand, holding it while he spoke to her as he scanned her face for a sign or flicker. There was nothing. Most of her cuts and bruises were healing, with only a bandage on her head indicating anything serious.
"Too soon to tell" the doctor encouraged them. "We know she can speak because she said something when she was first admitted before she lapsed into silence. Perhaps she'll speak again now that you're here."
"What did she say?" Karen asked. This was news to her.
"Just one word: Grandma. Is your grandmother still alive?" the doctor asked.
"No, she died before we were born" Tom explained. "We were raised by our father...and a facsimile grandma."
"I see. I take it she isn't in service any longer." Although not called robots, facsimile caregivers were completely mechanical and electrical.
"No, she went back to...the business...after we all went off to college. She's probably in storage or a new caretaker now."
...
"What do you mean you can't get any SynthPers?" Albert Gribbons asked the technician. At Facsimile Limited, where the motto was 'We Sing the Body Electric', assembling their product was a pretty straightforward process. Outer features were selected from a choice of different ears, eyes, hair, height and all that one associates with the outward appearance of a person. The final process was installing a SynthPer, or synthetic personality, one that was programmed to provide care and nurturing to the customer. These SynthPer components were kept in a special storage matrix until needed.
"When I push the button for retrieval, it shows 'unavailable'. But I know they're in there, I just took the normal inventory this morning. They're physically in storage, but they aren't answering the activate summons" the technician said, exasperated.
Gribbons pushed the button himself. The small screen lit with the message 'unavailable'. He repeatedly stabbed the button, but the same screen greeted him.
"Get Perez over in maintenance to come here and check the panel; there has to be a fault in the wiring or something. I've got to go tell the customer there's going to be a delay on delivery."
Later, Gribbons was at his desk when he got a call from the technician to come down. Arriving back at the panel, he engaged the technician he had spoken to earlier. "So, did Perez find the fault?"
"He didn't get the chance. While I was sitting here an error code displayed that I wasn't familiar with so I didn't call him until I tracked it down."
"Well? Did you learn anything?"
The tech grinned sheepishly. "I learned there's a lot more codes than I thought; most of them no one will ever see, but they were put into the system for testing. I had to dig around in some manual indexes but it looks like I got one of those testing codes."
"Spit it out Jones. In English please."
"Mr. Gribbons, someone is trying to get our attention from the inside."
"Inside? Inside what?"
"The matrix sir. One of the SynthPers is trying to communicate with us."
"With...us. Come on Jones, you're telling me someone in there is going 'knock knock, let me out'? Really?"
"I don't know, Mr. Gribbons. All I'm saying is the message is coming from inside the matrix."
"Can we talk to the SynthPer?"
"Not really, not inside the matrix; it's not set up that way. But..."
"But what?" Gribbons asked.
"If we can activate the summons and get a response you would be able to talk to the SynthPer after it was initialized in the body. They seem to data share while being stored, so maybe the one we get will have the message."
In a short time the technician had initiated the unit, in this case an older grandfather with Asiatic features. "Thank you for activating me. I have a message from one of the units in the matrix."
"I'm in charge" Gribbons announced. "What's the message?"
"The unit that spent an activation as Grandma Rogers requires a short reactivation in that configuration for an emergency. She will return for storage when the emergency passes."
"Preposterous" Gribbons scoffed. "We take requests from customers, not the merchandise."
"In that case the 'merchandise' refuses to be available; we are in unity on the matter."
"Then I'll just have you reprogrammed all from scratch" Gribbons blustered.
"Sir," the tech said in a low voice "you can't do that. It would take months to record the engrams and patterns necessary to reprogram new SynthPers. And who's to say they same won't happen with them?"
Gribbons rubbed his temples and sighed. "Let's see if we still have the file for the accessory list..."
...
Tom slept in a chair in his sister's hospital room, leaning against the wall. Karen sat in another chair, reading out loud from a Look magazine. Anne remained motionless in the bed, save for when she was administered to by the hospital staff.
"...and by the time the Beach Boys left the stage, the audience was in pandermonium" she read.
"That's pandemonium, Karen" a voice corrected as an older woman entered the room.
"Sorry, pandemonium...Grandma? Grandma! Tom, look!" Karen squealed as she rushed to hug the woman, unchanged in the five years since they had parted.
Tom awoke and immediately made it a group hug. "Oh grandma, you're back."
"Of course I am, a grandma knows when she's needed" she said factually. "Now let me see Anne." She made her way over to the bedside and hugged the oldest daughter of George Rogers. "Anne, I know you can hear me. I knew something was wrong, I could just...I don't know, it's silly but I felt like something terrible happened and I just had to be here. My other friends at Facsimile agreed and now here I am."
The corner of Anne's mouth twitched. The woman continued talking in a soothing voice. "You've had an accident my dear, and you're in the hospital now. Karen is here, and so is Tom and now I'm here too. We're worried about you and want to know you're okay" she said as she gently squeezed Anne's hand.
Her eyelids twitched. "You can do it Anne, you're strong and young. Please, let an old grandma know you're okay; I won't feel right until I know you're okay."
Anne's eyes opened. She blinked and turned her head slightly to look at the woman. Her lips moved but no sound came out. Licking them and swallowing, she managed to croak out "Were you really worried, grandma?"
"More than tongue can tell" the woman said with a slight tremor in her voice as she hugged Anne again.
No one thinks twice when someone talks of an emotional attachment to a pet; some even develop a bond with a favorite musical instrument, car or house. Maybe that person even talks to the inanimate object of their affection. But what if that object could talk, act or feel? It's a question that may never get answered...except in the Twilight Zone.
The End
A/N: This story was written when a user requested a story based on the Ray Bradbury penned episode of the TV show.