I want to apologize for how long it took to post this episode, and thank everyone for still following my meandering tale. I am sure you all know how crazy things have been state side as of late. More importantly, I wish to express my deepest sympathy and send sincere prayers to the people of Japan and any of my readers who may live or have friends or loved one there. Whatever we in the US have been going through, it is dwarfed by comparison. We are all moved by your plight and your bravery and dignity in facing it. My next chapter will contain some form of honorable mention. - Bry
Alive
A fan fiction in progress
by Bryan Harrison
Part 17
1
A wizened, smiling face hovered over the glass doors at the end of a cul de sac. David remembered it well. 'Ask Dr Know!' proclaimed the banner above the marquee's wild neon hair.
"There's nothing he doesn't," said David to himself.
But as he neared the entrance, a buzzer went off and the small translucent image of a smiling man in a plain black suit appeared to hover before the door.
"Welcome to Doctor Know," the floating man said, with exaggerated cheer, "Due to recent intrusions into our security, no Supertoys, servant Mecha or any information sharing devices will be permitted to see the Doctor. Global Telecom wants you to know we appreciate your patronage and we apologize for any inconvenience the new restrictions might cause."
"I don't think they like me, David," Teddy said. David sighed and looked around the cul de sac. It consisted of a few brightly lit eateries sparsely populated by young people, who were laughing and snapping pictures of one another with their pocket phones. But, just like the other place, there was a small alley on one side, with what looked to be trash receptacles gathered along the wall. He made sure no one was watching and slipped into the alley.
"But this is for garbage, David," Teddy observed as he was placed in one of the containers.
"Sorry, Teddy," David said. "But I can't take you inside. You'll be safe here for a little while."
The look on Teddy's face was equal parts outrage and disgust. "I am not junk!" the toy growled.
"I know, I know" David said apologetically. "But I don't know where else to leave you right now. I won't be long. Just wait here and try not to make any noise." He closed the lid and slipped away, ignoring the muffled complaints coming from the container, and preparing himself for a bout of wits with Doctor Know.
2
Another flash of deja'-vu washed over David as he mounted the small rise of stairs that led to the soft blue glow of the entrance. But it faded quickly as he passed into the quiet lobby. The Doctor's office had been updated since he'd last seen it.
He made his way through the warmly decorated lobby, scrutinizing the new appearance; plush sofas, walls of dark polished wood. Large paintings in ornate frames harkened back to a time long gone; a time when static, two-dimensional renderings were the height of artistic expression, and the written word was at the top of the information hierarchy. Shelves lined the walls, filled with antique books bearing names that, had he still possessed his digital databases, David might recognize. 'The Odyssey' by someone named Homer. 'Mind Children' by someone named Marovec. 'Stalking The Wild Pendulum' by Bentov. The Shah Nama, The Renaissance, The Gospel Of Thomas, The Lotus Sutra, The Art Of War, The Priciples Of Neo-Fatalism. A whole row was devoted to someone named Shakespeare.
So many books, David thought, amazed. The entire display ran the length of the room. And he was certain that this was just a tiny sampling of the stored knowledge of mankind. Because this was just a display…. a simulation, like he had once been; designed to evoke a certain response; to create an atmosphere of knowledge. Surely there must be places where much larger collections were kept.
Knowing that he didn't have much time, but unable to suppress the compulsion, David approached the shelves and ran his hand over the large leather-bound volumes. So this was how they did it, he realized. This is how Orga stored their information and their stories when they got too profuse to keep in their heads; how they passed them down from generation to generation before they had created thinking machines.
"It's a database," he whispered, suddenly understanding the meaning of the display. Joe had once said something about the value of information. This is where he had come from, wasn't it? Through the knowledge of millennia, the turbulent history of man's trials and errors, was his kind born…. or, the kind he had once been.
Now he knew why Orga treasured their ancient knowledge so. It was the blood of their civilization. The past. The future. It was…. power. Yes, power. Not the kind that men like Sy or Olmier used to get their way. Not the kind that had driven his mechanical body in another life. This was a more fundamental kind of power. Kinetic and intangible, yet the whole of civilization rested on its framework.
David was pondering these new revelations, trying to make sense of them, when the lobby door slid open and a small family entered, laughing, and sat on one of the sofas. He turned away quickly, avoiding a curious look from a young girl with them. His wig and anonymous suburban attire would supply sufficient cover for casual scrutiny. But he was not so sure about his eyes. He had seen so much in his short life, more than anyone his age should, that he was sure that his eyes would somehow reveal him. But when he chanced another glance, the girl had turned her attention elsewhere. He dashed by the family, and into one of the Doctor's quiet booths.
3
More than the lobby had been refurbished, it seemed. The Doctor himself had undergone a few upgrades since David had last spoken with him… with it? The computer no longer waited for patrons to press a button to go into its routine. The moment David sat, the lights dimmed and holographic galaxies exploded like a dazzling array of celestial fireworks as Dr Know made his entrance. But the new Doctor had legs and arms, was cloaked in a stark white lab coat, and embraced a large black book with the words "The Book Of Everything" etched in gold on its cover. The cartoon holograph paced the stage in a professorial posture as it went into its spiel
"Greetings my young friend!" the Doctor exclaimed, after taking a moment to calculate David's profile. "And welcome to Dr Know! The place where hungry minds are nourished at over seventy-five thousands locations around the world! You have questions? I have the answers. From Aristotle to Zeller! Zappa to Albeniz! ! History, Philosophy, Pop Culture and The Arts. All vetted by the most reliable sources! Everything you wanted to know about anything!
"Ask Dr Know! There's nothing I don't!"
David recalled the procedure and slipped some Newbucks into the slot, which was now located in the arm of the chair. The Doctor suddenly tossed the bulky Book Of Everything up into the air, and it began to flap around the room like a great bird, the multicolored holographs of the categories jumping from the pages to orbit David's head.
"10 Newbucks will buy you 5 questions!" The Doctor exclaimed, and began to recite the categories aloud. But David already knew where to find the information he sought.
"Flat Fact!" he said, interrupting the Doctor's spiel. The holograph snatched the flying book from the air, crossed its arms and began tapping a foot impatiently on the floor. After a moment David realized it was waiting for a question.
"Oh, uh… how can I find Monica…" David stopped, his mouth agape. Something obvious had finally dawned on him: He had never learned Mommy's last name! His last name. Surely it must have been in the databank in his old brain! Then why couldn't he remember? He placed his head in his hands, moaning. But the Doctor saw the opportunity to waste one of his questions and jumped on it.
"In the Phone Registry!" the Doctor said. The Book Of Everything was suddenly bright yellow, its pages flipping wildly as if driven by a fierce wind. "The International Phone Registry, generously provided by Global Telecom Incorporated. The leading net provider offering a wide array of web services, not to mention a sponsor of yours truly: Dr Know! Next question?"
That was completely unfair! But David knew better than to complain. This was the Doctor's game, played by the Doctor's rules. He'd have to continue carefully, especially since he did not know a most crucial piece of information. Why hadn't he asked Martin when he had the chance? He moaned an indecipherable swear.
"Can you phrase that as a question, please?" The Doctor said. David was certain he heard sarcasm in the holograph's voice. Ok, he decided. You want to play it like that? He thought hard. After a minute's silence the Doctor started tapping it's foot on the floor again.
"Ok," David said, his new strategy decided. He spoke slowly, carefully, to avoid phrasing the words incorrectly. "How many people named… no! Start over."
The Doctor emitted a loud beep as it recalculated. David began again.
"How many times does the name 'Monica' appear in the phone registry?"
The Doctor didn't miss a beat. "Three hundred, sixty five thousand eight hundred and twenty four!" it exclaimed, seemingly excited by the inquiry. "Next question?"
So many? David felt himself sinking again. How on earth would he ever be able to find just one? But he quickly realized his mistake.
"Ok, how many times does the name Monica appear in the local phone registry?" he said, hoping this might narrow the number a bit.
"Two Hundred and thirty three times," the Doctor said. Its wink let David know he was going in the right direction. But he was pretty sure he would have to pay for more questions… if the Doctor had its way.
"Next question," the Doctor said, smiling.
David thought for a moment, trying to concoct his next question while doing his best to ignore the tapping of the Doctor's foot against the floor. Then it suddenly occurred to him. The Doctor was a holograph! There was no reason for its foot to make a sound… which meant that someone had programmed the noise. David had the strong impression this was done just to distract people.
"Will you stop doing that," David said, annoyed. He immediately regretted saying it that way.
"No," the Doctor replied. "You have one more question."
"Hey! That wasn't…" but he stopped himself Technically, it had been a question. "Cheater," he mumbled. His time with the rough boys of the forest must have had an effect on him, for he had to fight a strong impulse to rush onto the stage and punch the holograph in its translucent nose. But he managed to put the feeling aside long enough to figure the next question. He proceeded carefully.
"And how many of … the people named Monica… in the local phone registry… have a husband named Henry, and a son named Martin?"
"None!" The Doctor replied happily. The categories disappeared and the holograph began to fold in on itself, saying, "Thank you for visiting Doctor Know! Come again!"
David quickly slipped another ten spot into the slot and the Doctor reappeared, throwing the Book of Everything into the air.
"Flat fact!" David screamed before the categories could jump from the pages. The Doctor retrieved the book, crossed its arms and began tapping its foot again.
"Stop that!" David commanded. He was amazed to see the Doctor comply. Had it been that easy all along?
"That's better!" David yelled, still fuming.
"There's no need to shout," the Doctor replied with an irritated expression on its virtual face. "I can hear you fine!"
Five more questions. David had plenty of money, but couldn't afford to spend it all here. He still had a long way to go, and he was Orga now. He had to eat and take care of his body in a way he'd never had to before. He cleared his mind and tried to think differently. He wasn't a robot anymore. He could not rely on stored information or programmed strategies. He had to seek the elusive 'unknown unknown', as Sy would have called it.
Then it occurred to him; if he didn't know where Mommy lived, then how did he know she had a local address? He had only assumed it would be. But how local was local? It might take all night to have the doctor check every registry. But what if…
He knew what to do.
"Alright," David said finally, pointing a challenging finger at the Doctor. "How many people named Monica … in any phone registry … have a husband named Henry, and a son named Martin … who is a teenager now… and was sick for five years?"
"One."
The reply was so quick that David almost missed it. He had been prepared to go through another round of questions, fighting to extract every vital piece of information. But now his anger subsided and was replaced by a new hope. He'd found her!
"And … what is her full name?" he said, reverently, feeling a sudden unexpected warmth of emotion rising in his chest.
The image of a young woman with a wry look on her face, but laughter in her eyes, appeared before him. It was her! David felt his heart swoon. His love for her came back like a punch in the gut and filled him with a deep feeling of bittersweet joy. He felt his heart beating faster and his breath suddenly rushing.
"Swinton, Monica Francis," the Doctor said. "Born Monica O'Conner, married to Henry Swinton, for whom she bore one son; Martin Thomas Swinton. Placed in Cryo-Suspension due to complications of Sinclair Syndrome. Resuscitated."
David repressed the urge to reach out and touch the image. This was likely all the Doctor had of her. She wasn't famous, a celebrity, or political figure. She was s simple mother, a solitary woman who took her joy from the simple things in life.
It was an old image. She was younger than the woman he knew. Much younger. It appeared to have been taken near the pool. She was seated in a patio chair, her arms crossed, as if she didn't really want her picture taken, but was putting up with it because of who was taking it… because she loved him. Had Henry taken it on some lazy afternoon after a walk by the pond? And what was the whimsical look in her eyes? Had they been joking? Making plans for their future? Had Martin yet been born?
She was so beautiful So happy. David felt a tear rising in his eye and wiped it away.
"Next question?" The Doctor said.
David came to his senses and pushed his strong feelings back. "Swin-ton," he said quietly,. What an odd name. "Hi, I'm David Swinton," he whispered, trying it on for size, greeting imaginary strangers, softly, so the Doctor couldn't make it out.
"You're mumbling!" the holograph complained.
But David was beyond fighting with the machine. His anger had given way to hope… and now, after hearing his true name, his hope gave way to something else; a feeling both sad and happy at once.
"And where does Monica Francis Swinton live?" he said.
Another loud beep filed the room.
"I'm sorry," the doctor replied, with a smile that didn't seem sorry at all. "But that information is not in the pubic records. You still have three more questions."
He was close. He knew her name. But if the Doctor didn't have her address, then the registry wouldn't either. A troubling thought came to him next. Maybe she didn't want to be found. What if, after their encounter, Martin had somehow convinced her to remove all their information from public records? Or what if Martin had told Henry about seeing him and…
"Henry!" David said aloud. Of course! Why hadn't he thought of it earlier?
"Please state that as a question!" The Doctor said, tapping its foot again. David quickly formulated his next plan of attack.
"Who is Henry Swinton, husband of Monica Swinton, father of Martin Swinton?"
The Book Of Everything was airborne again. This time it shot up to hover above the Doctor's head, where it quickly morphed into a screen. A man was pictured there. He stood at a podium, speaking to a room full of well-dressed people. David was all too familiar with that face.
"Henry S. Swinton," the Doctor explained. "Regional Head of Marketing for Cybertronics of New Jersey. Two time Recipient of Cybertronics Annual Award for Excellence in Promotion!"
The Doctor spoke on, reciting the information in Henry's public profile. But David didn't care about Henry's accomplishments. He only wanted to know how to find the man… and through him… to find Mommy. The people on the silent screen began to applaud as another man stepped into the picture. David lost his breath and fell back into his seat. He knew that face too. He would never forget it; could never forget, no matter how hard he tried.
Alan Hobby, his creator, his betrayer, stepped up to the podium and shook hands with Henry. There they stood. The two men that had sought to destroy him. David felt the crimson emotion rising again, in his chest and stomach. There was a fire in there. This emotion also made his heart race and his breath come fast and shallow. It too drove his quest… almost as much as his love for Her. It was the dangerous emotion that lurked on the dark side of love. It was the nemesis of love.
Holding up a plaque between them, the two men smiled as pictures were taken and the silently applauding people stood to show their respect. Now he knew what he had to do to find Monica; knew where he had to go to get hold of the information that was unavailable anywhere in the public domain.
"Where the lions weep," he whispered.
The Doctor heard the words and, once again, began to answer a question that had not been asked. "The Watson Fountains," it said, "A monument constructed in the likenesses of twin lions, built over the submerged ruins of Old Manhatten Island and commonly used as a geographical reference for that location."
The hologram continued its explanation, but David wasn't listening; didn't care that the computer had stolen another question from him. He knew where the lions wept. He had no idea how he was going to get there… but that had not stopped him before.
He rose and turned to leave.
"You have one more question!" The Doctor reminded him.
David faced the hologram. He really had nothing left to ask. But there was something he wanted to say.
"Ok, Doctor," he said, in measured tones. "Tell me this…. who is David Swinton, son of Monica Swinton?" he said.
The Doctor took a moment to scour the public record. It was only an instant, but David remembered how it had seemed before, when he too was only a replica. Time had not passed in the same way.
"I'm sorry," the Doctor said at last, "but no such person exists."
David cupped his mouth and mimicked the loud beeping sound the doctor used to point out a mistake.
"Wrong!" he said. "Put this in your Book Of Everything, Doc. I am David Swinton, son of Monica Swinton, brother to Martin Swinton. I have a father too, though he doesn't want me. But what he wants doesn't matter anymore because I am real! And I have a family …and a home! And that's where I am going!"
He suddenly rushed towards the Doctor and it stepped back, surprised by the boy's unexpected and inexplicable aggression.
But David stopped at the foot of the small stage and pounded a resolute fist against his chest; over his young Orga heart, wherein the dual spirits of love and hate were at war for his soul.
"I am!" he cried.
(cont…)