+J.M.J.+
Zenon Eyes: Eyes of Truth
By "Matrix Refugee"
Author's Note:
Remember this? At long last I got back to this one (sorry about the little snags, folks)…Remember the mysterious figure sneaking around in the shadows of the town of Shohola, PA, who seems to be following Joe (and hiding from him just as much as he's following Our Boy)? We find out just who that shadow is. I also made a few recent discoveries (mostly fake websites for different robotics corporations, etc.) on the highly useful website www.cloudmakers.org (It was part of the now concluded "Evan Chan" murder mystery Internet game which formed part of the pre-release publicity for the film, but it's well worth a look. "A.I." fanfic writers take note: bookmark it; you'll thank me for it!), which have helped add depth to the background of this story. Read on…
Disclaimer:
See Chapter I. I also don't own the CRF, or Rogue Retrieval.
Chapter VII: Salvage
After the sighting in the alleyway behind the hotel, Joe took to watching the shadows on the streets more carefully, looking for the figure that had eluded him that night. But for the time being, he had to turn his attention elsewhere.
He had every intention to start serious work promoting his idea for a Mecha sanctuary. But he had to set I aside when he got a commission to design a special order, a female Mecha meant to resemble the early 20th century stripteuse Gypsy Rose Lee, which meant he had to do a little online research on the burlesque queen.
Manoj, in the next cubicle, peered over the divider. "Hey, Joe, what's that?" His eye was on one of Joe's printouts of a slightly suggestive photo of the artiste in a lacy, low cut black dress with the skirts open over her shapely legs. "Is Rhiannon got you love-starved since you got the kid?"
"No, this is part of my research for this particular project."
"Oh, yeah, that's right. Sorry for the cheap shot."
"You did me no harm."
"Hey, speaking of shots, how's it going with the movie deal?"
"There has been a casting call over in Europe, but so far they have had a few problems finding a young actor who both looks the part for the leading role and can act it as well."
"Yeah, that would be a hard one to pull off. It's a lot easier for a Mecha to be as convincingly human as an Orga than it is for an Orga to be convincingly robotic as a Mecha—especially when that Mecha is someone like you who passes Turing's test with flying colors."
In the days that Rhiannon had to go out to work, she left David with Narsie Zipes. David and Sina got along remarkably well. Sina saw David as a kind of older brother. He helped her with her coat, almost the way Joe did with Rhiannon, and he often held doors for Narsie. Calla applauded him for these steps.
Domestic bliss, Joe called his life now. He had reached a safe harbor in which to rest, but the image of a small boy who was not a boy, whose image he saw daily in his own son, called him out onto the deeper waters.
He sometimes wondered if, by chance, he had been able to accompany the first David on his journey, would the little one's story have turned out differently? Would they have found the Blue Fairy? Would she have been able to turn David into a real boy? …Would she have rewarded him for his pains by turning him into a real man? He cast the thought aside with the closest thing to a cold shudder that he could sense.
No single organization existed to shelter Mechas. The Coalition for Robotic Freedom sought to win voting rights for Mechas now that the new Federal Regulations, the American Mecha Act of 2225, had gone into effect and made some strides toward the equitable treatment of Mechas. But what of the strays in the woods? What of that shadowy being that had dogged his very footsteps?
The figure in the shadows had become for him a symbol, an icon for the class of Mechas he most hoped to aid.
@--`--
But one night, late in March, Rhiannon awoke hearing David tapping at the bedroom door. She felt at the pillow next to hers; Joe had gotten up already. She heard the door open and saw the light from the nightlight in the hallway, David's little shadow and Joe's taller one moving against it.
"David, what is it?" Joe asked.
"Daddy, there's somebody outside my window."
"Let me see it," Joe said, following David out.
Rhiannon sat up in bed and looked at the luminous dial on the alarm clock: 2.30.
Joe came back, carrying David, a few moments later and helped him into the bed next to Rhiannon.
"It is probably just an animal, but I have to make sure," Joe said. David snuggled against her. Joe felt under the bed for his shoes, found them and put them on.
He went downstairs and put on his overcoat. Then he got his stunner from the locked metal box on the shelf of the coat closet and slipped it into his pocket before he went out.
A cold wind blew, rattling the bare bushes and blowing devils of snow across the powdery ground. Joe scanned the bushes beneath David's window.
He studied the ground, looking for fresh footprints that he knew were not his.
A set of prints showed up in the snow along the bushes, bare human feet. He walked alongside them, following their trail, keeping his hearing turned up for sounds of movement.
The tracks went into a cluster of rhododendrons in the back yard. He watched them for movement.
He fanned out his left hand and switched on the light in his left palm, turning the beam toward the bushes.
The blue light gleamed off a pair of eyes, not animal eyes, but human ones.
Not Orga eyes, either, they glittered too brilliantly.
"Who's there?" he asked.
The eyes turned away as if the stranger would flee.
"I mean you no harm," Joe said. The figure turned back to him. "Tell me who you are."
"Does it matter to you? Does it matter to anyone?" asked a young man's voice.
"I would like to know who is hiding in my rhododendron grove."
The figure shifted and stepped out into the brief circle of light.
A blond young Mecha stood before him clad in what remained of a dingy white button down shirt and gray flannel pants. He lifted his eyes from the snow and looked up—or one looked up, at least. The other had turned sidewise in its socket, given him a wall-eyed look.
"Now do you know who I am?" the Mecha asked.
"You are Alex Hilliard."
"Correction: I was Alex Hilliard. You can forget the Hilliard part."
"What happened to you?"
"Nothing you'd know about or care to know."
"I do care to know. I designed you."
"Is that all I am to you? Just an experiment for man's amusement? Well, the object of amusement has had it up to here."
Joe looked down to the snow at their feet. Alex stood barefoot, the silicon "flesh" of one foot was gashed, showing the metal "bones" underneath.
"Your foot is damaged: are you in pain?"
"Of course I'm in pain," Alex snapped.
Joe held out his right hand, dimming the light in his left. "Let me take you inside. Perhaps I can repair it."
Alex stuffed his hands into his pants pockets: one fist showed through a rent in the pocket. "What would you say if I refused?"
"I would say you are doing yourself a disservice. I might even question your sense of self-preservation."
"If you want to use me as a charity case, I'm not interested." Alex tried to push past Joe, but the older Mecha caught him by the shoulder.
"I only wish to help you," Joe said.
"Maybe I don't want help."
"I think you do, Alex. I think that's why you turned up in my back garden. You know that I can and will help you."
"I just happened to show up here." He didn't try to shake Joe's hand off. Joe led him to the back porch and brought him inside the house.
Rhiannon and David listened on the top of the stairs, Rhiannon straining her ears, David clinging to her hand.
Joe came up the stairs alone; Rhiannon went down to meet him halfway.
"What is it? Who is it?"
"It is…Alex Hilliard, "Joe replied.
"Alex? Not that piano player with the bratty attitude."
"It is he."
"What happened to him?"
"He will not tell me much. He refuses even to let me seal the cuts in the dermis on his feet."
"Is he damaged badly?"
"It is superficial, but it would take some labor on my part—if he would allow it."
"Let me talk to him," she said.
Joe spread his hands in assent. "I have warned you: he has not accepted my welcome."
She turned to David. "I have to go downstairs for a little while; can you stay here with Daddy?"
David let her go. "Yes, Mommy." Rhiannon went downstairs.
Joe sat down beside David.
"Who's downstairs, Daddy?" David asked.
"It is an friend of mine, a young fellow named Alex."
"Was he outside?"
"Yes, he was."
"He'll be safe in here, but is he safe?"
"He is, but something seems to have frightened him."
"Is that why Mommy went downstairs to talk to him?"
"Yes, perhaps she can help him."
"I'm not frightened of her any more, so maybe she can help him not be afraid. Maybe Calla can help him, too."
Joe tousled David's hair gently. "Perhaps they can help him, if he will let them."
"Why wouldn't he let them?"
"Sometimes…when someone has been hurt badly inside, they are afraid of being hurt again, and so they do not let anyone come close to them lest they be hurt yet again, even when that person means them no harm." He knew this well from the old days, from all the dozens of battered women he had consoled over the years before…before the first David saved his brain.
@`--`--
Rhiannon stepped into the living room, where a single lamp shone.
Alex sat on the couch with his arms folded tight against his chest, his long legs curled under himself. He kept his slitted eyes, or at least the one that hadn't slipped, focused on a bump in the middle of the rug, not even glancing up when she came in and sat on the edge of the coffee table opposite him.
"Hello, Alex," she said.
"Hi," Alex grumbled.
"So what were you doing sneaking around in our backyard?" she asked.
"Nothing."
'Boy, the programmers did a good job making him over in the image of the typical uncommunicative teenager,' she thought. The only difference between him and an Orga teenager was composition.
"You can tell me what's bothering you."
Alex looked up at her. "What if I said you are what's bothering me?"
"I'd say you're entitled to you opinion, but that you're also being very ungrateful. Joe could have left you out there in the cold where there's no telling what's lurking there, waiting to play tee-ball with your head."
Alex shrugged. "They're welcome to it: I'm only gonna be scrapped sooner or later. Why not sooner?"
"All right, you can have your nastiness, or you can have a place to regroup. But you can't have both. What's it gonna be: have a warm place to fix your dings, or out in the cold with the thugs?"
"You win."
She put out her hand. "Wanna shake on it?"
"Deal." Alex took her hand and shook it with the same limpness as he had at the Roboticists' Convention three years ago. They'd have to do something about that.
"Okay, I can't sit up tonight holding your hand because I have work tomorrow. Will you be all right here in the living room for now?"
"It's as good a place as any."
She got up. "Good night, Alex."
"'Night," he mumbled. He huddled in the corner of the couch, burying his head in his arms.
She went to rejoin David and Joe on the stairs.
"He doesn't sound very happy," David said.
"I heard you taking that sledgehammer of words to his attitude," Joe said.
"He's got some kind of bee in his processors," Rhiannon said. "I wonder if Calla could get through to him."
Joe smiled. "David suggested the very same course of action."
She squeezed David gently. "Good thinking, honey."
"I though the same. And if she can help Alex, perhaps she can heal other Mechas as well, as part of the grand endeavor."
David looked up at Joe. "What's the grand…endeavor?" he asked.
"Perhaps I shall tell you of it in the morning," Joe said. "It would take to long to describe."
"Okay, Daddy."
"So you're trying to rope Calla into your crazy scheme," Rhiannon asked, as they went back upstairs.
"On if she should desire to aid us," Joe said.
@--`--
Next day, Lutwyn was surprised to find Joe had a companion, a blond young Mecha he quickly recognized as Alex Hilliard.
"Where'd your friend come from?" Lutwyn asked.
"He was wandering in out back garden," Joe said. "He needs some repairs beyond my capabilities."
"Surgery versus a band aid," Lutwyn said. "Hello, Alex."
"Hi," Alex muttered.
"A neural cube scan might not be so far-fetched a procedure as well," Joe added. "He refuses to speak to us."
"So you're just going to pick at my brains instead," Alex grumbled, as Lutwyn helped him into the back of the cruiser.
Once at Companionates, Joe immediately brought Alex up to Repairs, where Galloway awaited them.
"Not another stray," Galloway groaned when Joe led the younger Mecha into the workroom. "You're a sucker for these beat to death Mechas, Joe."
Alex turned and started to walk out, but Joe caught his arm and drew him back. Alex tried to get away, but Joe had too firm a grasp on him.
"He speaks only in jest," Joe said, trying to reassure him. "He can help you: he is a good friend of mine."
"I bet he is," Alex grumbled.
"So, what seems to be the problem?" Galloway asked.
"Stuff," Alex shrugged.
"The dermis on his feet has been lacerated somehow. And I think a general diagnostic is in order," Joe said.
"Mm, a diagnostic on his head to see why he's so cranky," Galloway said. He patted the worktable. "Sit down and take off your shoes, Alex."
Alex unbuckled his shoes (an old pair Joe had loaned him) and dropped them on the floor before plonking himself down on the table.
Galloway knelt and studied the gashes. "That looks pretty nasty. At least the understructures are undamaged. I'll see what I can do to squeeze him in: I've got a serving man with a damaged voice box and a few others coming in later."
"So I get knocked to the bottom of the list?" Alex snapped.
"I'll do what I can," Galloway said.
"Figures," Alex slid off the table and headed for the door. Joe caught his shoulder. "Let me go."
"We are only trying to help you," Joe began.
"So help me already!" Alex cried. "Don't just put me on the shelf somewhere."
"We're not gonna do that; thing is I got another few Mechas with more serious problems that have to be resolved first," Galloway said.
"I should have stayed in the woods," Alex grumbled, trying to break away again.
Joe grabbed Alex's other hand and sat him down on the table. "You should be glad that I brought you here at all. Either you comply with circumstances, or we may have to let you go."
"The latter doesn't sound bad at all," Alex said, rising.
Galloway grabbed the younger Mecha by the back of the shoulders and pushed him down onto the table. Alex tried to push him away. Joe got on the table and pinned Alex to the table top with his knees and elbows. Galloway took a probe from the breast pocket of his coverall.
"Alex, open your mouth wide, now," Galloway ordered.
Alex complied. "Aaahhhh," he said with a smarmy air.
Galloway inserted the probe into Alex's mouth and pressed the deactivation switch in the back of his throat.
Alex lay still. Joe let out a sigh of relief and climbed down from the table.
"He's a beautiful piece of work," Galloway said, running a hand over Alex's tousled hair.
"I never intended him to have this personality; I was assigned only to the physical design."
"We've all got our edges; Alex just has the hard edges you don't have. You're probably good for each other."
"Perhaps I will soon see it as you do," Joe said.
@--`--
The word that Alex had returned reached design later that afternoon. As Joe collected some printouts from the large 24X36 inch printer, he overheard some of the other designers nearby.
"Funny he should turn up on Joe's doorstep like that."—"You think it's a homing instinct?"—"Nah, he probably just heard about Joe Masters and decided he'd seek shelter with him."
Later still, at quitting time, Joe went to check on Alex's progress.
He found Alex awake, lying calmly on his side while Arabella, one of the techs, finished replacing a damaged section of dermis, attaching the "skin" to the trunk neurons on the sole of his foot. Alex kept glancing at the girl almost desirously, but she ignored him. As soon as Joe entered the space, Alex stopped eying the girl and looked up at Joe.
"Come to see the rest of the torture?" Alex asked.
"I have only come to see your progress," Joe said.
"He's as uppity as he ever was," the girl said. Why did you have him programmed this way?"
"I only wish I could have had a say in the matter of that area of his construction," Joe said.
Galloway came in at that point. Joe turned from Alex and turned to the chief of repairs.
"Have you scanned his cube?" Joe asked.
"Yeah, we found a few things: he's been imprinted. You know he has two imprint sequences, one for family interaction, the other for, you know…"
"Less innocent interaction?"
"Yeah, and it looks like someone started to imprint that circuit, but they got interrupted. We might have to rewire those circuits."
"Could that explain his antisocial behavior?" Joe asked.
Galloway glanced over Joe's shoulder. "Yeah, but there's more to it than that alone. He's just uppity by his very persona."
"That I will not deny. But is it not excessively so?"
Galloway cracked a grin. "It may have intensified for whatever reason, but it's just part of who he is, just as being basically agreeable is part of who you are."
"What are you sniggering at?" Joe asked.
Galloway turned him around.
Alex had crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out at Joe, but he quickly relaxed his face as Joe turned to look at him.
"He dislikes me," Joe observed, incensed.
"Don't let him see it: you'll only encourage him."
@--`--
That afternoon, Rhiannon set about clearing out one of the spare rooms upstairs, which she'd been using as storage. She took an old cot down from the attic and set it up in one corner.
"Is Alex staying here for good?" David asked, helping carry in some pillows and blankets from the linen closet.
"I hope so: he needs a place to live like you did," she said.
"I hope he stays too. Then he won't have to be scared any more."
She reached out and ruffled David's golden brown hair. "You'd be good for him."
@--`--
Joe came home with Alex a little later. The younger Mecha wasn't walking as gingerly as he had before.
David ran to meet them with open arms. He hugged Alex almost as warmly as he hugged Joe. Alex peeled him off.
"Watch it with the hug, kid," Alex grumbled.
"I only want you to like me," David said.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Alex muttered.
"Mommy and I got a room ready for you," David said, tagging along behind Alex as the taller Mecha headed for the living room.
Rhiannon came downstairs at this point. "How's Alex?" she asked Joe.
"He is as persistently annoyed and annoying as ever," Joe declared, hanging up his coat and hat. After the New Year, he had begun wearing an old-style pearl gray fedora, which only helped to make him look more Orga-like than ever.
"Well, at least he's consistent," she said. "How'd the diagnostic go?"
"He has been imprinted, and it would appear someone tried to imprint him as a lover."
"Can he do that?"
"Yes, the contractee required it."
"Have you contacted his family?"
"Galloway is doing so."
"Remember what I said about David: don't get too attached; his imprinters might decide they want him back."
"You will have no cause for that brand of concern: he has no interest in bonding with me. I believe he despises me."
She looked into the living room and drew Joe away from the doorway. "I contacted Irmgard Casvar."
"And what had she to say?" Joe asked, with a touch of cold disdain.
"She claims we stole David. She's trying to file suit against us."
"But we have hard evidence against her."
"Maybe it's time we turned Galloway's disks over to the police."
Joe laughed humorlessly.
"What?"
"In so doing, I may be avenging myself of the false accusations leveled against me by Alfred Bevins."
@--`--
Saturday, Rhiannon brought Alex along with her and David. Joe and Galloway had to attend to another matter related to David's sufferings: reporting the crime to the police and handing over the disks with the scans from David's cube.
"So now, if she tries to file suit, she'll find her claim crashing up against the abuse charges," Galloway said, as they drove back to Calla's office.
"We can only hope it will thusly," Joe said.
@--`--
"I like Alex,' David told Calla, as they sat on opposite ends of the couch in the playroom of her office. "But he's a little scary."
"Why is he a little scary?" she asked.
"He's not very nice to Daddy. At least he listens to Mommy most of the time, and he's okay with me. But I wish he could be nice to Daddy."
"Well, it could be that Alex has to get himself used to being with your family."
"I hope he can stay and find some way to be happy."
"Why do you want that for him?"
"Mommy and Daddy gave me a home for real, and that makes me happy. So if Alex stayed with us, maybe he could be happy, too."
"That might work. But Alex may have a family of his own that's looking for him."
David's large blue eyes grew wide with dismay. "You mean he can't stay?"
"We'll have to find that out; but you don't have to worry about that. You just help Alex feel welcome, no matter how it turns out."
"Okay, Calla." David hugged her, then bounced down from the sofa and went out to join Rhiannon in the waiting room.
Calla went to her office to take off the tiny recorder she wore under her blouse, took out the cassette and put it into a box marked "David Masters".
The door opened, then shut.
"Come on in, Alex," she encouraged.
The door popped open, then Alex stepped into the room, looking about him as if looking for the quickest way out.
"Hello, Alex."
Alex pushed the door closed behind him. She offered him a chair, but he merely glanced at it. The shirt and pants he wore clearly belonged to Joe: they didn't fit him well, though they were long enough. He was about the same height and build as Joe, but he was scrawnier and far less attractive.
"Please, sit down," she offered.
"I'd rather stand," he shot back.
"Well, if that makes you feel more comfortable…so, David tells me you're having a few troubles adjusting to your new surroundings."
"That fiberhead had no right to pick me up."
"What makes you say that?"
"I was doing all right."
"You were wandering in the woods and on the streets; you were damaged beyond your ability to repair yourself. You could have been destroyed by anyone who took it into their head to heave a brick at you."
"I could have found my way around. I was on my way to Rouge City, to find work there. They're looking for things like me."
"But what I find curious was that you ended up on the doorstep of Joe Masters. He designed you, he's done a lot to fight for the freedom of your species. I think you wanted him to help you."
"Don't be ridiculous…you win."
"I wasn't trying to win."
"What else do you want to know?"
"It's not so much me who wants to know, but Joe and Rhiannon want to know it: I'm only here to help them help you. Now, what made you leave the home of your imprinter Miss Kate Hilliard?"
Alex dropped his gaze to the floor and scuffed one toe across the rug. "She got a younger model to pleas her husband. They couldn't have kids because of a health condition he has. So they bought a kid model. They started ignoring me. It was always 'Tiffy did this' and 'Oh cute, Tiffy did that'. I disappeared once to test them. They didn't know I was gone until twelve hours later. I doubt they noticed I'm missing now."
"I bet they do. I bet they're wondering where you are."
He glared at her. "Where are the missing Mecha reports that should be all over the 'Net? Why isn't Rogue Retrieval after me? I came all the way from North California to here, and I didn't see a single Rogue Retrieval agent after me."
"That's awful."
"You try being the one who's been overlooked."
"I'm really sorry that it's happening this way."
"Me too."
"It must hurt inside."
"It shouldn't: I'm just a fiberhead, remember?" his voice trembled.
"Go ahead, Alex. You can cry."
Alex wiped his thumbs across his eyes, pushing back the tears.
"I'm all right," he said.
@--`--
"He wasn't thrown out: he ran away of his own volition," Calla told Joe and Rhiannon.
"In which case, we must contact his family," Joe said.
"But this gets interesting: he pointed out to me that he hasn't heard any missing Mecha reports and Rogue Retrieval hasn't gone after him," Calla said.
"I searched the reports myself: there wasn't anything," Rhiannon said.
"That does not sound good at all," Joe said. With a touch of relief and resignation, he added, "So now, in addition to tracking down Irmgard Casvar, we must find Kate Hilliard and see why she discarded Alex."
@--`--
Joe found the records of Alex's owners and called them. He got only the answering machine, so he left a message.
"Mr. and Mrs. Hilliard-Kleph? This is Joe Masters of Companionates of Shohola, Pennsylvania. I have located Alex, your missing Mecha. You may contact me at 583-621-1229 in the evening, or you may e-mail me at jmasters at design-dot-companionates-dot-com. Thank you."
He placed the receiver back on the base and cut the transmission.
"Sounds like you didn't get through," Alex's voice said. "Sounds like I'm gonna be here a while."
Joe looked up. "I left a message with them. They have only to reply to it."
"They won't; get used to me."
"I think we must get used to each other," Joe said.
@--`--
The Casvar case moved fast. Anthony Casvar came forward and gave the police the tapes he had made from the hidden cameras, of Irmgard abusing David.
She did the thing they all expected: she tried to flee the country, but the police caught her in the airport in Philadelphia.
She plead no contest to the charges.
Joe was there at Irmgard's arraignment. She'd put on weight since the time of the memories in David's cube. The courtroom guards had to keep her carefully secured; she'd tried to break away when they were leading her into the courtroom, and they'd had to put a stun belt on her. She accepted the charges and her sentence—ten years, no parole—with sullen silence.
But as soon as the guards started to lead her out, she suddenly turned her bloodshot eyes on Joe.
"Machines can't own machines!" she shouted.
@--`--
Joe felt relieved that they wouldn't have to deal with Irmgard Casvar for a long time, but her insult still made his electrical impulses run cold.
On the way to the Zipeses' to pick up David and Alex, Rhiannon considered breaking the news to David, a fact she shared with Joe; but they both hesitated, wondering how well he could understand it.
"Perhaps it would ease his healing process, if he knew that his sick mommy can no longer harm him," Joe said.
"It might, and then again it might just open old wounds. You know how emotionally shaky he is," Rhiannon said.
"In that case, perhaps we should break the news to him when he has his next session with Calla."
"That might help; he's gotten so trusting with her. You saw him hug her the last time, didn't you?"
"Yes," Joe replied, smiling at the memory. "There could be no better sign of his progression than that gesture."
When they arrived, Narsie let them in and went to fetch David and Andy, who were playing with Sina and Terry in the family room at the back of the house.
Someone was playing Chopin's "Prelude". The sound seemed to live to be a recording.
Rhiannon looked at Joe. "Music?"
"I have nothing to do with it," Joe replied, pointing toward his left shoulder, then turning his palm to her, open.
The sound came from the sitting room, where Narsie kept her grandmother's rosewood acoustic grand piano. They both tiptoed to the doorway into the sitting room.
Alex sat at the piano, playing, his head bent slightly over the keys. Joe paused in the doorway, head cocked questioningly, yet a look of rapt attention passed over his face.
That someone so prickly could play so divinely…
The spell broke. Alex lifted his hands from the keys and looked up.
"Narsie gave me permission; she said it needed to be played.
"You play it excellently," Joe said.
"I suppose you specified music appreciation when you built me," Alex added, getting up.
"Your imprinter did. Rhiannon and I heard your first public concert at the American Roboticists convention several years ago," Joe said.
"Oh yeah, that one. You and a hundred thousand other roboticists,' Alex said.
At this point, Narsie came in with David and Andy.
"Who was playing that pretty music?" David asked.
"I was," Alex said in a clipped voice.
"How was your afternoon, David?" Rhiannon asked.
"It was fun, Mommy," David said.
"Narsie, could I offer you a small proposal?" Joe asked as Rhiannon helped David into his coat.
Narsie glanced out into the hallway, at Alex, who shuffled on his anorak. "Does it have to do with Alex and the piano?"
"It does. I wondered, if Alex can become a part of our family, would you consider selling us your piano for his use?"
"Oh, sure. I can't play it to save my life: I didn't practice enough. I was keeping it for Sina if she ever showed an interest in it, but she seems to like her books better."
"And then everyone shall be happy," Joe said.
"But first you gotta see if Alex's imprinter wants him back."
Joe eyed Alex askance, then leaned a little closer to Narsie. "Speaking to you in confidence, there are times when I wonder whether we should admit him to our family."
"Aw, he just has a few rough edges to smooth over. He's great when he's playing the piano."
"That may very well be the only time when he does behave."
"All the more reason to let you take the piano."
"After we determine his status in our family."
@--`--
The next day, Joe found a message in his inbox:
From: K_hilliardkleph @ montorone-nocalmail.com
To: jmasters @ design.companionates.com
Subject: Alex
Dear Mr. Masters,
Thank you for contacting us about Alex. We're glad to hear that you found him.
Unfortunately, because I have become so busy with my daughter Tiffany, I was unable to maintain Alex as well as I should have. I have been ill with meningitis and was unable to file a missing Mecha report.
If its possible, could you take care of Alex for me? In some ways he has too much of a problem for me. My husband and I were even considering having Alex returned to Companionates, but he disappeared before we could take the necessary steps…
He only skim read the last paragraphs of the message. The shallowness of it all made him clench his teeth.
He reached for the phone handset, opened the dialer on the desktop and hit the speed dial number for his home number. The line rang a moment and picked up.
"Hello, Masters' residence." Ree's voice.
"Ree, it is I. I just received a message from Kate Hilliard-Kleph, Alex's imprinter."
"At least you got that much, I've called and left three messages on their voice mail."
"I am about to forward it to you…now. When you read it, you will know exactly why Alex is so difficult of nature."
He heard Rhiannon rustling about on the other end. "Okay, I got it…I've opened it and…." A long pause passed. "Gad!"
"Have you found the root of the matter?"
"Yeah, I can see why Alex walked out like he did. This woman sounds like she forgets to reboot her brain every morning."
"I had similar thoughts."
"I guess this means a simple matter of transferring papers to our name."
"And applying for an identity card for him."
"Well, that's the next priority."
"In which case, he will soon be an official part of our family. I can easily obtain his imprint protocol."
"Hey, Joe, take it slow! I got a few strings to pull first."
"I referred to the next step after your pulling of strings—that figure of speech makes one think of a marionette."
"Guess it's not the most appropriate metaphor."
"You meant no harm by it."
When they had hung up, Joe looked up at his framed photo of his family. A fourth member…what would Alex say to that?
Are you up to it, old man?
@--`--
"Someone who builds a Mecha only to start ignoring it doesn't deserve to have one in the first place, much less a second one," Rhiannon said as she washed her dishes that evening.
"No wonder that Alex feels as he does and that he wants to strike out on his own," Joe remarked, leaning against the draining board of the sink.
"Should we break the news to him?" Rhiannon asked.
"You won't have to," Alex's voice said to them. Rhiannon turned; Joe looked up.
Alex stood in the kitchen doorway, his face trying to be a mask of cold indifference, but tears showed at the outer corners of his eyes.
"I saw the email from my mother," Alex said. "I guess that means I'm stuck here."
"You could not be stuck with a better family. We have all been outcast one way or other," Joe said, approaching Alex and putting his hands on the younger Mecha's shoulders.
Alex tried to push Joe away, but the older Mecha put his arms about him drawing him close.
"Don't hug me, old man, or my tears will gush out," Alex grumbled. But Rhiannon noticed he didn't resist Joe's touch any more.
@--`--
Early Saturday morning, Galloway brought Narsie's piano over. Rhiannon woke up hearing Joe and Lutwyn and Galloway's voices downstairs.
She got up and dressed quickly. She found Alex and David and Andy at the top of the stairs, peering down.
"Something up?" she asked.
"Something's going on downstairs," David said.
"Well, let's go down and find out," she said.
The three of them tiptoed down the stairs (David carried Andy), just as Joe came upstairs.
"So you would find our your surprise so soon?" Joe asked with a clearly fake sneer. He put a hand on Alex's shoulder and led him down to the living room. Rhiannon and David followed them down.
"The anniversary of your inception is but three weeks away, but perhaps you would prefer to have your present now," Joe said, leading Alex into the living room. Lutwyn was opening the lid of the piano and propping it open, while Galloway came in from outside with a box of sheet music.
Alex stepped close to the instrument and ran his hand over the rosewood sounding board. He looked up at Lutwyn.
"You didn't have to do this," Alex said.
"I know I didn't have to. So that's why I did it," Lutwyn said.
"Play something, Alex," David said.
"Okay, okay…does anyone have a request?" Alex said, sitting down on the bench.
"Do you know MacDowell's 'To a Wild Rose'?" Rhiannon asked.
Alex replied by flexing his fingers and setting his hands to the keyboard. He paused a moment, then played the tune, an ethereal melody as delicate as the flower of the title. Rhiannon realized she was holding her breath, and with no small wonder: that a creature so cantankerous and even crass could play it so exquisitely…he handled the melody as if he handled the fragile petals of a blossom.
At the last soft note, Alex held the keys down, letting the sound dissolve like a mist. He drew his hands away and looked up, clearly seeking approval.
David started clapping enthusiastically, which got everyone else applauding. Alex smiled thinly, one of the first times Rhiannon could recall seeing him smile.
Galloway took Joe aside and put a large red plastic envelope in his hand. "You might need this."
Joe turned the packet over.
WARNING: IMPRINT PROTOCOL
Joe tried to hand the envelope back to Galloway. "Perhaps it is too soon for this: Rhiannon only began the work of transferring his papers to us."
"You keep 'em, Joe; for all intents and purposes, he's your boy now."
@--`--
After David's session with Calla, Joe took Alex shopping for some clothes of his own.
"Not that I begrudge your borrowing my things," Joe explained to Alex. "Doubtlessly you would much prefer to be able to call your own the shirt on your back."
"Yeah, they probably tossed all my stuff anyway," Alex grumbled.
"Why did you not take a few things with you?"
Alex shrugged. "Why not? I was property to them. Property can't own property."
Joe turned Alex around to face him. "You are not property. This is a direct order: You are to stop thinking of yourself as property and start thinking of yourself as an individual, as a person."
Alex glanced around at the passersby in the shopping mall. "Try telling that to them."
"Telling that to the Orgas happens to be one of my principal chosen tasks."
"So is that why you took me in?" Alex slid his shoulder free of Joe's grasp. "Because I'm useful to your experiment?"
"No. Helping you took first precedent."
Alex had nothing to say to this, but his silence was not brooding.
They picked out a few dress shirts, a few flannel shirts, several pairs of pants—khaki, corduroys, denims. Alex chose a gray suit.
"You would look better wearing navy blue: it would bring out the color of your eyes," Joe suggested.
"I like the gray," Alex insisted.
Joe nearly objected, but he overrode this: it was not worth arguing with Alex over.
They passed a music store on the way out. Alex looked at Joe. "Will the budget let me buy some staff line paper?" he asked the older Mecha.
"Yes, but may I ask why you need it?"
"I had a few ideas for a composition."
"You can compose?"
"Of course I can," Alex snipped.
@--`--
Later that evening, Alex sat in the living room playing the main melody of Grieg's Piano Concerto. David and Andy sat under the piano, listening. Joe and Rhiannon both listened as well, while Rhiannon washed the dishes.
"David likes him," she said.
"The question is: does Alex like David?" Joe pointed out.
"I think Alex could like David if he'd work at it," she said. "Should we imprint him tonight?"
"So you saw Galloway hand me those papers. No, he has yet to acclimate to us. And something so final should wait until his papers have passed," Joe said.
"Right," she said, smiling. "I just want him to get used to being here. He's been through so much."
"That is why we would do well to wait."
"Mm, and you ought to think seriously about finding a backer for your grand endeavor. We can fit only one more stray in our house before we start getting crowded."
Joe kneaded her shoulder with his fingertips. "That is why you are good for me: you help me keep my grand ideas rooted in reality."
To be continued…
Afterword:
I am going to make up for my tardiness on this one and I will do everything in my power to get a chapter out each week from now on, cross my heartbeat simulator and hope to be destroyed. Next chapter will be a mixture of light and darkness: Joe has a few funny squabbles with Alex…but Irmgard Casvar is not going to take her sentence lying down.
Literary Easter Eggs:
Irmgard Casvar in court—Another detail drawn from real life. The day I drafted this chapter, I had the minor misfortune to walk into an area where the police were arresting two people on drug possession and disorderly conduct charges. One of the perps was a female, who reminded me weirdly of Irmgard Casvar, so I put a little of the female's attitude into Irmgard here.
"Don't hug me…"—I based this line on a line from a "Calvin and Hobbes" Christmas comic strip.