The Forever Life (The Forever Series Book 1)

by Craig Robertson

  “That's all part of my job and I volunteered for it. The future of everyone is at stake, so I'm willing to make that sacrifice. Plus, since I'll be traveling really fast, Professor Einstein says that, from my point of view, it will only take forty years.”

  Phil blinked in disbelief. “You've spoken with Albert Einstein? Robots can do that?”

  “No, what I meant to say is Einstein's Theory of Special Relativity predicts that the time I experience at high speed is slower, relative to someone not on board my ship. And, technically I won't be completely alone. I will have an AI computer along for the ride.”

  “Oh,” was Phil's confused response.

  “I've read about the artificial intelligence computers.” Jane said. “I thought they were still in the developmental stages.”

  “What with the rush to implement new technologies, they've been made operational.”

  “Have you met your traveling companion yet?” she asked.

  “No. We'll meet when I head up to my ship.”

  “Wow, a robot talking to a computer. I'd like to be a fly on that wall,” said Phil.

  Both Jane and I just stared at him. Even with all the media training I'd received, I had nothing.

  Jane made an effort to regain the helm. “When are you scheduled to leave?”

  “In about a month, if all goes well.”

  She took a moment to compose her next question. “I imagine you've thought a lot about the fact that you won't be back on Earth for almost a century. Everything will be different. Your friends and family, they'll all be gone.”

  I looked at my lap. “You're right on both counts. I've thought a great deal about it and, yes, the world of today won't be here when I get back.”

  “And you're okay with that?”

  I shrugged. “No way around it. We need to find a new home. It's going to be far away, and someone has to go there.” I had to stop talking for a second. I cleared my throat. “It's a job I'm proud to do.”

  “I'm sure you will be able to communicate with Earth for quite some time. It's not like you'll lose your loved ones completely, right?” She said gently.

  I took a deep breath, then released it as a sigh. “Not to get too maudlin, but one of the reasons I was selected for this mission was that I don't really have people I'm leaving behind.” I paused. “Makes it easier that way.” I tried to be more upbeat and smiled. “Yeah, I'll miss my buddies. But I'm sure I'll meet new ones as soon as I get back.” I threw my hands up. “I'm a people-person.”

  “I guess that's why you astronauts are such a rare breed. It sounds like a lot more than most of us could handle. I don't think I could survive that degree of isolation.” She said the words distantly, sadly.

  Having been silent a while, Phil felt he needed to join the conversation. “So, what's the first thing you'll do when you get back, Jon? Have you thought about that? Man, eighty years alone in a tin can. I bet you'll need a shower and a hot date.”

  What a moron! And he even wears a red, white, and blue bowtie. In a different setting, I do believe I'd pound the crap outta this guy. “Ah, I'm not sure, Phil. Haven't really thought that far ahead. I'll let you know when I'm back, okay?”

  Phil giggled, but stopped abruptly. “Wait, in eighty years, I'll be—”

  Jane cut in loudly. “Well, thanks again, Colonel Ryan, for helping us all understand your mission. If you have a chance, maybe you can stop by again before you depart, give us all an update?”

  “I'd love to.”

  “I have to thank you on behalf of all our viewers for your service to humanity.” She started to extend her hand to me. Instead, she leaned over. “You deserve a big hug, not a handshake.”

  Phil pointed at me when we were done. “Sorry, pal. I'll just be shaking your hand.”

  “And we're clear! Okay, everybody, two minute break till air. Weather, you're on first.”

  I stood to leave. Jane rose also. “Ah, Jon, may I walk you to the door?”

  “Sure,” I extended an elbow, “I'd love some company.”

  She slipped her hand over my arm and we started walking slowly. “I hope you'll forgive Phil. He's really a nice guy. He just says the oddest things when he's nervous, and he can be a dimwit.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I make Phil nervous? What'd I do to cause that?”

  “Well,” she dipped forward and smiled, “it really doesn't take that much, I guess.” We both chuckled. “But, you're a man in an android's body going off on an unbelievable mission. I think that would do it.”

  “Let him know I'm sorry I scared him, will you?”

  “Oh,” she batted a hand in the air, “no need. He's probably forgotten about it already.” She looked directly at me for a second. “I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable back there with the family stuff. Are you okay?”

  With more bravado than I felt I said, “Me? No, I'm fine.”

  Truth be told, leaving the only world I knew and then returning to a completely foreign land bothered me more than I wished it did. While on my mission, I'd probably be busy enough to not dwell on it. But I couldn't get it out of my mind that everyone I knew would be dead by the time I got back. Not only that, but so much would have changed by then. Earth will be in upheaval. I couldn't imagine the difference. The entire social order would likely have changed. And I'd be a relic from the past. Once my reports were made and my briefings completed, what role would I have? They might just turn me off and use my valuable parts for the evacuation efforts, to get more of the living off-world. There was no way to know, and the uncertainty ate at me like hot acid.

  “Jon! Jon, are you okay?” It was Jane. She was facing me, patting me firmly on the shoulder.

  “Ah, yeah, sure. I'm fine. Why do you ask?”

  “You sort of zoned out there for a second. Are you sure I didn't upset you?”

  “I'm fine. Please, not to worry.”

  “All right, if you say so. I was about to start poking you all over to find your reboot button.”

  I placed a hand over my chest. “Be still, my racing heart.” I smiled. “You know, I could zone out again at any time. May I show you where my ON/OFF switch is, just to be safe?”

  “I bet you tell that to all the girls.” She slapped the elbow she once again held. She went back to a more serious tone. “As a seasoned reporter, I have to tell you, I think you're putting up a pretty good front. But some of those issues seem to really bother you.”

  “Do tell?”

  “You're not just any tough guy, you're an astronaut. You have an image to uphold and are under the microscope 24/7.”

  “Am I going to receive a bill for this psychoanalysis, Jane? Or, is it just a hobby of yours?”

  “I rest my case.” As we neared the exit, she pulled me to a stop. “Look, all I'm saying is I think you're putting on a brave face, but that you have concerns. You'd be crazy if you didn't. It also sounds like you don't have anyone to talk to, at least no one you trust enough to bounce that kind of thing off of.”

  “So, what are you saying, doc?”

  She smiled and pointed at my nose. “You really are impossible. You know that, don't you?”

  Smiling back, I said, “I try my best.”

  “Well, if you need someone to talk to, I'd be happy to listen.”

  If robots could, I would have blushed. “Jane, thank you. Seriously, that's very kind of you.” I looked at the floor. “I don't actually have anyone who fits that bill.”

  She stepped over to a table and wrote something down. When she came back, she handed me a slip of paper. “This is my number. Call me if you'd like. We can…I don't know, maybe have dinner.” Her eyes popped open like they were spring-loaded. “Oh, I'm sorry. That was totally insensitive of me, wasn't it. Why would an android eat dinner?”

  I had to laugh. “Because he wants to, that's why. I don't need to eat, but as a fully functional metalman, I can if I want.”

  She looked surprised. “What happens to, you know, what goes in?”

&n
bsp; “Jane, that's a kind of personal question, isn't it?” I pointed back and forth between us. “We only just met, you realize?”

  She was crushed. “Oh, Jon, really, I'm so—”

  I set my hands on her shoulders. “Easy, Jane, I'm kidding.”

  She still looked worried. “Really? Are you sure?”

  “Hey, you can probably download my design from the Internet. All kidding aside, I have a short 'digestive tract' that leads to a tiny incinerator. Everything I eat or drink ends up as microparticles that are discreetly vented off. Best part of that is, no more diapers in space!”

  “Alright, then. So, if you want to talk over dinner, let me know.”

  I decided to put her on the spot. With a cautious look on my face I asked, “Are we talking interview here, Jane, or a date?”

  She tossed her head to one side and swept a loose strand of hair back. “I don't know. Probably a little of both, I guess.”

  “If it's an interview, that means it's business. You'd write it off on your taxes.”

  She set a hand on her hip. “'S that a problem?”

  “No, but another interview I don't need.” I tried to be as deadpan as I could.

  “But, if it's a date, what, that you do need?”

  “Need,” I raised my hands, “sounds so, needy. Let's just say I'd be a lot more receptive to a date over another boring interview.”

  “Very well, Colonel Ryan, you give me a call if you need a date. Then we'll talk.” She smiled. Man, was it ever a cute smile!

  “Can I just tell you now if I do? Skip the phone call?”

  “Did I mention impossible?”

  I tapped my chin. “Sounds familiar. Yes, I believe you did.”

  It was totally weird. I had a date, but I needed to clear it with Saunders. It was like asking permission from Dad. He hemmed and hawed at first. I actually thought he was going to forbid it. Then I reminded him I was going to be locked away for forty years alone, and that, metal or not, I was still a man. That part he empathized with, thank goodness. He insisted on providing a car and a few “escorts” for safety. That, I couldn't talk him out of. I guess he had a point. I was a valuable asset and it was a dangerous world. I agreed as long as the escorts weren't chaperones. That's when he hung up on me. Not going to miss that man.

  I picked Jane up the next night, or I should say we picked her up. I had an entourage like a rock star. She thought it was cute. Four armed guards on a first date? No pressure, right? She asked what I was in the mood for. I said sushi. Even if they sent some food along with me for my enjoyment, it wasn't going to be fresh fish. She knew just the place. This turned out to be a blessing. She was friends with the owner. We were able to get a table near a door in case of emergency, and positioned the guards strategically, but unobtrusively. Most importantly, they were out of earshot.

  We sipped sake over small talk for a while. Then she got to it. “Like I said, Jon, I know you're the John Wayne kind of tough guy. So let me just get the ball rolling here. When I asked about leaving loved ones behind, I felt you wilt ever so slightly. You can't be at peace with that, can you?”

  “Ah, kind of yes and kind of no, I guess.”

  She picked up the sake container and signaled our waiter. “I can see we're going to need another one of these.”

  “My, but the evening's course has taken a pleasant turn.”

  “Don't get your hopes up just yet, cowboy. I may still write this night off.”

  “Touché!” I raised a glass to toast her. We clinked.

  “You're right. I have significant reservations and worries I've not exactly shared with anyone.” I sighed. “A man in my position, at least the one I was in while still human, couldn't be too careful.”

  “I know. If you show a shred of emotion, you're out because you're a head case.” She tapped her glass to her lips. “Machismo. What a useless and silly notion.”

  “Men!” I said. “Don't get me started.” We were quiet a while. It was nice. “Jane, I'm scared shitless.”

  She raised her glass. “Well here's to being honest. Go ahead, Jon. You spilled the beans, so let's hear from each and every one of them little suckers.”

  I stared at the center of the table. Finally, I was ready to talk. “I don't mind dying. Never have. I'm not afraid of being alone. I've done alone a lot and I'm real good at it. What bothers me the most is, it's, it's stupid— that's what it is.”

  She slid her hands over to mine. “It's okay, Jon. Everything will be just fine. If you can tell me, that's good. If you can't, that's all right too. I'm here to listen and I'm certainly not here to judge you.” More to herself she added, “Me, of all people.”

  That provided a needed opening to change the subject and the mood. “Why, Counselor Geraty, I believe we've discovered a chink in both of our armors.”

  It was her turn to be quiet. I let her be. “Yes, Jon, but we're not here to talk about me. We're here to help you.”

  “Maybe that's your take, J, but I kinda want to hear your tale. What kind of person are you that you shouldn't judge? Those aren't supposed to be very nice people, according to my high school psychology class.”

  “No way! I'm not letting you off the hook that easily, Colonel.”

  “What,” I placed my wrists together, “you going to bind me and interrogate me? Please.”

  “Pilots!” She became serious. “Let's make a deal, shall we? Tonight, we fix you. After that, we can work on me if you still care to. Hell, that we can do by radio after you're gone. Everybody can hear about my troubles, just not yours.”

  I raised a glass. “Deal.” We clinked again.

  She filled both our glasses and rested back. “So, you gonna talk or do we play twenty questions?”

  “It kills me that everyone will be dead when I return. There's no going back, no redoes. Once I close the hatch of my ship, you all die.”

  “You said you really didn't have any people.”

  “Not my people. Any people. They'll all be new ones, ones who don't know me and who I can't relate to. Don't you see, J? It's our surroundings that define us. I'll be…I'll be totally out of context. And totally useless.”

  We were quiet again for a while. “Is it the context or the useless that bothers you most? I'm thinking it's the useless part. You seem like a man who makes his own context.”

  I pinched my lips. “Where the hell were you ten years ago?”

  She looked to the ceiling and back at me. “That would be KFOR, Channel Four, in beautiful downtown Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, Jon. It wasn't pretty. I was the weather girl who wouldn't wear a pushup bra in the middle of redneck heaven.”

  “So that's why I missed you. Never made it to OK City, OK.”

  “Consider yourself among the blessed.” That, we had to toast. “So, back to you and being useless.”

  I shrugged. “What's there to say? For all I know, by the time I get back, no one's going to need a hundred-year-old robot.”

  “Who can say anything, Jon? You start out at a meaningless job in Oklahoma City, end up under the spotlight in New York, and you met a guy you kind of like who's going to live forever, and you're not. It's all a crapshoot and it's all good, if you make it good.” She turned a shoulder to me. “And, if you make it into shit, then shit it will be.”

  I smiled. “Can I call you, if and when I'm back in New York? You're kind of growing on me.”

  “So, what? Now I'm a fungal infection?”

  “But you're one hell of a fungal infection, that's for sure.”

  “I bet you say that to all the girls, too. Don't you?”

  We had the best first date. I'll remember it for a long, long time. Us robots are like that.

  FOUR

  Heading into my fourth week as an android, things were going smoothly. I was back in Houston. There were no glitches in either my memory or my machinery. Doc practically glowed. I had learned to do program operations and complex repairs on myself. What's more, I was eating without gaining weight, working out w
ithout sweating, and learning without any effort. I noticed early on that I knew a lot more than I'd ever actually learned. Libraries of information were downloaded into me and I could access them seamlessly. I was literally Mr. KnowItAll. Life—or whatever it was I had—was good.

  One day, I was standing in the hallway, waiting for Doc. A lab tech in a white coat walked toward me, and stopped a few meters away. At first I paid him no mind, but I noted he was writing something on a clipboard. Odd, I thought, to stop in the middle of the hall and write stuff down on a clipboard. He kept stealing glances up at me, looking away whenever my eyes went in his direction. Then I smelled Serine nerve gas and C-4 explosive. And sweat—lots of sweat. In less than a second, I triangulated that those odors came from the clipboard guy. Unless there was one strange new men's cologne on the market, I was in real trouble.

  There was a suicide bomber in the building and I was the obvious target. Crap! Even small amounts of those compounds could cause mayhem in these tight quarters. If I confronted him, I assumed he'd set himself off. He was likely to have a dead man's switch which would go off even if I incapacitated him quickly. I couldn't alert security about my situation, either. I'd end up having a bunch of pimple-faced guards with assault rifles barreling down the hall. Easier to just ask the bomber nicely to set himself off and be done with it.

  I began walking away from him, but did so as nonchalantly as possible. I could hear him following, now about eight meters behind me. I turned the next corner, so I could catch a glimpse of him. He was still writing on his clipboard. Who writes while walking? It made him stand out like the rookie he had to be.

  I immediately ran into Captain Partee, the general's chief of staff. I pulled her toward me and whispered in her ear, “Play along. This is not a drill.” By then, my would-be assassin rounded the corner, saw us stopped, and jerked to turn the opposite way. Gia was as stiff as a board and eyed me with deep suspicion. Not a good sign. Luckily, she did not back off and slug me. Good. I had a plan and she was part of it.

  Quite loudly, I said, “There's my lunch date.” I pecked her on the lips, like we were longtime partners. Still, luckily, she didn't belt me. I held her hands at arm's length and said, “Let me look at my gorgeous fiancée.” I hoped my nervous bomber wasn't particularly observant. Gia didn't wear a ring. He was a man, so I was pretty confident he wouldn't notice.