Retiree 2.0

by John Douglas Powers

  “Does Bennett know?”

  “Not yet. Tomorrow, it will be official.”

  Brett reached into his pocket and removed a data chip. He offered it to Alana, “This is Gabriel Stone’s save file. It was one of my demands for joining.”

  “How—”

  Every one of Brett’s words were spoken as if he they were from a speech, as if he had memorized them beforehand, “Rhys briefed me when he came by the hospital last night to see Wen Jing. He also told me why you didn’t come. I understand.”

  “How is she?”

  “She’s—” Brett lost his verbal footing as a tear suddenly shot down his cheek. He bit his lip, straining to keep his composure, “—broken.”

  Alana could not think of anything to say. She started to reach her hand toward Brett, but he raised his hand to stop her, saying, “I understand why you used Wen Jing—I can’t forgive you for what happened. I’ll let you know when I catch the son-of-a-bitch who did it.”

  Brett turned and walked away as quickly as he could. Alana watched as he opened the door and climbed into Derringer’s car. He looked any direction except toward Alana as the car backed out of the driveway and accelerated down the road.

  Sunday, 16 July, 18:30

  Alana held the data chip Brett had given her as she waited for Bob Smith to answer his Vira. When Bob came onto the line, she asked if it was still possible, as Bob had suggested, to load the profile into a surrogate brain to ask Gabriel what his wishes were, whether he would want to be resurrected as a cybernetic retiree if his body was removed from life support. Bob said he would arrange it. An hour later, he returned the call, telling Alana that an appointment had been made for ten o’clock in the morning. All she needed to do was bring the chip with her.

  Alana found herself unable to rest, and unable to engage in any other domestic activity. There were too many things weighing on her mind. She called Rhys, and asked him if he would accompany her on a trip to Camarillo, to visit the church where Gabriel Stone had lived and worked. He acquiesced without even a hint of reticence, and half-an-hour later, he arrived at her home in his personal car. The drive around the city was relatively easy on a Sunday evening, and the car’s interior almost as quiet as the last time they had made the trip, the night that Gabriel was shot. Alana mentioned that Brett had stopped by, and that he was going to officially resign and return to his former position at Security Division, presumably so that he could personally become involved in an international manhunt for Louis Chu. She mentioned that Rhys should be promoted to Inspector to take his place, especially with Inspector MacGruder temporarily disabled, but Rhys did not reply. When Alana thanked Rhys for taking the time to accompany her, he replied that it was all right, and that while they were in the area, there was something he had wanted to show Alana for some time, making the trip desirable for him as well, even if he had difficulty understanding why Alana wanted to go. Alana did not have a good answer for making the trip either, other than not feeling like she could stay home alone in the wake of all that had transpired since the tragic failure to capture Chu on Friday. She finally admitted, aloud, “I just needed to be with you today, Ben.”

  When they pulled up to the church, a few cars were parked outside, and the doors were open. The electric sign at the edge of the sidewalk read, ‘Vigil for Pastor Stone – Ongoing.’ The car parked, and the two detectives entered the building. The electric lights were off, with sunlight shining through the stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscopic display upon the pews and the floor. They found a large, framed photograph of Gabriel Stone in his priest’s robe leaning against the cross at the top of the altar. A dozen or so lit candles lined the edge of the altar, and a group of six people sat or knelt before the display.

  Rhys sat in the aisle seat of the last pews as Alana approached the members. One of them, an older lady of probable Hispanic descent, saw her and moved to her right, making room for Alana to approach. Alana had no idea of how to behave in a Catholic church. Her grandparents had been Roman Catholic, but their religion did not pass to their children, and other than during occasional rituals involving her extended family, she had not spent much time among the faithful. She knelt down and bowed her head. The Hispanic woman whispered, “I don’t recognize you. Did you know Pastor Stone?”

  Alana said, “Apparently, I’m his mother.”

  “Oh...,” the woman said, as if confused by Alana’s thirty-something body. “I thought he was an orphan.”

  Alana said, “He was.”

  “Oh...,” this left the lady even more confused, and she dropped the conversation, going back to her private meditations.

  At nine-o’clock sharp, another group, five people this time, of various ages, arrived and relieved those standing vigil of their duty. Alana could only wonder how both Aaron and Gabriel Stone had affected their lives such that they would pay him so much respect. Alana departed with the previous shift, and she and Rhys returned to his car. He asked, “Are you all right?”

  Alana said, “I think so. I’m just... a bit overloaded by life right now.”

  When they left the church, Rhys took manual control of the car. He guided it around to Mulholland Drive, and then turned right onto Topanga Canyon Road, just west of where the Simi Quarantine Zone began, exceeding the speed limit at times as if he were rushing to beat a deadline. The road was still two-lane, and narrow, designed to wind around the side of the ridge that separated the Simi Valley from the Pacific coast. It was maintained, but never widened as there was no room to expand it. About halfway up the ridge, Rhys pulled over to the shoulder on the south side of the road. He said, opening his door and placing one foot on the ground, “We’re a few minutes early, but we’re here.”

  Alana looked around, but could see only mountains, trees, and valleys, as well as a prominent sign that read, ‘Emergency Standing Only.’ She asked, “Where is, ‘Here?’”

  Rhys said, “Get out and I’ll show you,” and he closed his door.

  Alana also left the confines of their vehicle, having to wait for a few cars to pass by before she had room to safely exit. She joined Rhys, who was standing behind the car and looking toward the west.

  Rhys said, “I found this spot by accident when I was seventeen. You can only see it in the summer, July through September, when the sun’s at the right angle. It was just after I graduated from high school, and I was just driving around Los Angeles in my old VW convertible. I was coming down from the mountain, slowly, when I saw a really nice sunset over the mountains there.” He pointed to where the sun was just about to dip below the Santa Monica Mountains. “I was going to take a picture of it, but when I looked away to shield my eyes from the sun, I saw that.” He pointed to the valley below, to the East.

  Alana followed Rhys gesture. Even though the spot they were standing on was brightly lit, the valley below was already shrouded in shadow, with a galaxy of electric lights twinkling within the sea of darkness.

  Rhys continued, “I was in-between the first stage of my life and the second. I looked at the sunset, and then at the city, and I felt like I was standing on the edge, caught between the darkness and the light. This job makes me feel the same way sometimes.”

  Another group of cars drove past, stirring up the wind, which blew both Alana’s and Rhys’ hair chaotically. Alana walked over to Rhys and embraced him, “It’s beautiful. Thanks.” They remained that way until the sun had vanished.

  Monday, 17 July, 13:35

  Alana had been in the shopital’s brain testing room before, first when she had to interview a damaged cyborg in an earlier case, second when she was rescued after being kidnapped during that same case. Today, it was stacked with brain boxes, most of which were victims of the chop-shop kidnapping case. The best efforts of multiple shifts of detectives, forensics technicians, and doctors was still unable to stay ahead of the volume of work Louis Chu and his associated mercenaries had created for them.

  Bob Smith sat beside Alana in front of a table, waiting for D
octor Phelps to activate Gabriel Stone’s surrogate brain box. There was no visible effect upon the stainless-steel box that rested on the table when the doctor pushed a button on the nearby control console. He asked, “Can you hear me?”

  The twin lenses on the binocular camera mounted at the top of the box whirred softly as they focused. A voice Alana had not heard for some time came from a speaker mounted next to the cameras, “Uh, hello? What’s going on? Where am I?”

  Phelps prompted, “Please tell me who you are.”

  “I—I’m Gabriel. Who—” the voice hesitated, “Oh! Inspector Graves. What are you—?”

  Phelps said, turning away and toward the door, “I think that’s close enough. I’ll be outside.”

  Smith did not wait for the doctor to leave before beginning, “Good afternoon, Gabriel. I’m Bob Smith, and I’m an attorney acting on your behalf on instruction from Chief Inspector Graves. She’ll be asking you a number of questions, and I want you to understand that the answers you give her will be very important, so think carefully.”

  Gabriel said, “I don’t understand. Where am I? Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

  Alana said, “Gabriel, first I want to explain to you what’s happening...”

  It took the better part of an hour to relate the situation to Gabriel: how he had risked his life to help the police, and how he had been shot down for his efforts. At the end, he said, “I understand now. Thanks for taking the time to explain it. I never would have ever thought you were my mom.”

  Alana said, “What I need to ask you is this: since you are still in a coma, and can’t answer, what would you want to happen to you if you don’t recover? If you die.”

  “Gee, what a question to ask a guy. I know what my father would have said.”

  Alana said, “What do you say, Gabriel. It’s your life.”

  “I guess... No. I know. I want to be buried with my dad. Yeah. That’s what I want.”

  Alana tried to zero in on the most important point, “Do you want to retire? To be resurrected. To become a cyborg, like me?”

  There was a long silence before Gabriel said, “No.”

  Smith weighed in, “Are you sure, Gabriel? We won’t be able to ask you again. This is a permanent, life-or-death decision for you. Think carefully.”

  “I made up my mind a long time ago, but I never really thought I’d have to—you know. I do have one question though.”

  Alana asked, “What’s that, Gabriel?”

  “Will I remember this conversation? The true story of my mom and dad?”

  Alana looked at Bob, who shook his head, even though Alana knew the answer, “I’m afraid not, Gabriel. Anything since you were saved by Security Division will be lost.”

  “It’s weird. I should feel sad. I mean, I want to. I do, kind of. But I don’t feel it. Do you know what I mean?”

  “Yes, Gabriel. It’s one of the quirks about being retired. You don’t feel things the same way you do when you were alive.”

  “Then that clinches it. I’ll stand by my decision. If my body dies, then let me pass on as well. I wouldn’t want to live like this. I don’t want to be a homunculus. This is wrong, and against God and nature. Just let me pass on to the other side.”

  Alana said, firmly, “Bob, can you please wait outside. I want to talk to my son privately, off the record.”

  Without a word, Bob departed, pulling the door closed behind him.

  Gabriel began, sheepishly, “Um, mom—”

  Alana yelled, brandishing her finger at Gabriel’s camera, “Listen up, dumb ass! I don’t know what kind of crap your father fed you for two decades, but this is important! Your body and mind are in mortal danger. If they die, and you don’t resurrect, you’ll be dead! For good! There’s no waking up in heaven the next morning. That’s all bullshit! You’ve got a chance to keep on going! To keep helping people if that’s what you want to do. With that nonexistent God you pay homage to as my witness, there’s not enough good people in this world. I don’t want to see one less, especially if it’s my—” Alana could not finish her sentence. Her mind was muddled with a mix of anger and frustration. Yes, despite their tenuous filial connection, Gabriel’s life mattered to her.

  After a long silence, Gabriel said, calmly, sympathetically, “Mom, I believe what I believe. I want my decision to stand.”

  Another silence followed. Alana paced in circles several times, fuming on the inside. She finally stopped, and turning to face Gabriel’s camera, she said, in a normal tone, “As you wish. Is there anything else I can say to you, do for you, while you’re here?”

  Gabriel said, “No ma’am—no, wait. Just one thing. There was something dad said sometimes. Every time I’d kneel to pray for people I knew, when I got to the end, I’d always add on a request for my parents—for you and Aaron, as it turns out. One night, dad caught me doing it at the altar, and he told me, ‘I’m sure your parents were good people at heart, and that when they left you on my doorstep, it was for a very good reason.’ Like he knew, and I guess he did. I appreciate your feelings. Maybe I’ll pull through and this conversation will be forever redundant.”

  Alana waved toward the small window in the door from which Phelps and Smith had been watching. The men reentered. Smith asked, “Any changes of heart?”

  Gabriel said, “No. I’m resolved that if I should die, that it’s as intended, and that I should stay that way.”

  Smith asked, “What do you want Inspector Graves to do with this recording of your memories and personality?”

  Gabriel said, “Keep it, please, mom. But never bring me back to life again. I wouldn’t want to feel like this every time you told me our story.”

  Alana said, “Goodbye, Gabriel.”

  Gabriel said, “Goodbye... Mom.”

  Everyone departed for a nearby conference room, and Alana relayed Gabriel’s wishes, making them legally binding. She instructed Phelps to erase the surrogate copy and return Gabriel’s data chip to her when it was convenient. After they had exited the building and they were on their way to their parked vehicles, Bob asked, “Will you keep Gabriel on life support?”

  “Unless and until the doctors tell me he’s got permanent brain damage, I’ll leave him on as long as I can afford to. It’s probably only about three weeks before I run out of savings, maybe longer now that he’s been moved out of the hospital and into long-term care, but I’m at least going to give Gabriel a chance to recover. I’ve made so many bad decisions in the last month that I’m not going to make another snap decision now. I might make the wrong one.”

  Bob offered his hand to shake, and Alana took it, “Call me if and when you decide to take him off of support. Try to give me at least twelve hours notice if you can.”

  Alana nodded, “I will. I don’t fully understand why you’re going so far out of your way to help me, but I can’t say I didn’t need the extra help. Thanks again.”

  Bob smiled, “Oh, it’s simple. You remind me of my mom. Calm on the outside, but willing to fight long and hard for what she thinks is right. When you came to me to help that homeless cyborg back in May, I knew you and mom were cut from the same mold. Is that where you got your desire to see justice done? From your parents?”

  “I think I get it from everyone I meet. Some people make me want to see justice served. Some people make me want to serve it. I think all honest cops are the same.”

  Bob said as he waved goodbye, “Well, wherever it comes from, stay that way. The world needs more people like us. I’m speaking humbly, of course.”

  Alana grinned, “Of course,” and she walked to her car.

  Monday, 17 July, 17:35

  Alana opened the door and stepped inside the hospital ward, closing it behind her. A battery of fresh flower arrangements and wreaths were stacked in the corner of the room. Wen Jing’s bed was elevated at about forty degrees. A sheet was pulled over her body, barely concealing a urine collection bag hanging by the side of the bed. She was wearing a white, plastic neck brace.
It failed to hide all of the bruising Alana had inflicted when Louis Chu tried to use her body to kill Wen Jing. Her face was completely devoid of any kind of expression, and the absence of a smile made her look like a different person. Her hair had been cut almost to the root, probably because in her current condition, it would have been impossible to wash. The young woman’s eyes were open, and they fixed on Alana.

  Alana heard the vital signs monitor pinging softly. The numbers displayed thereupon were good for someone of Wen Jing’s age and physical condition. She was stable, and according to the hospitalist Alana had spoken with minutes before entering her room, she had been so ever since she had been moved from intensive care.

  Alana stepped over to the windows, which were tinted solid white, blocking out the bright, midday light. She said, “Hello, Wendy. I’m sorry that I couldn’t come by sooner. From what I know about you, I’m guessing you’re the kind of person who prefers the light to the darkness.” She used her finger to reduce the tinting enough to brighten the room, but not so much as to hurt Wen Jing’s eyes.

  Turning toward the bed, Alana noticed, for the first time, that Wen Jing had what appeared to be a diamond engagement ring adorning her left ring finger. The stone was of modest size. She had no idea when that had gotten there, only that it had happened after her puppeted body had tried to murder her. She presumed that Brett had placed it there. She said, “I talked to Brett on Saturday. I’m guessing that he already told you what he told me: that he’s resigning from the police to return to duty with Security Division, long enough to track down Louis Chu, wherever in Asia he went. Another thing I see in you is that I don’t think you would condone vengeance regardless of the circumstances. If I’m right about that, then you are a much better person than I am. Neither Chu nor I deserve forgiveness for what’s happened to you.”

  Alana paced back and forth a couple of times before continuing, “When you’re in charge of things, you have to make decisions. This is what happens when you make a poor choice. I did not see this coming, but I should have. I should have requisitioned a robot double for you, a mannequin to sit pretty and wait for Chu to show. I don’t think anyone would have complained about the cost. It would have been a lot less than the price you had to pay for my mistake. Nothing’s going to change what happened. I can’t roll it back to an earlier save and forget that portion of our lives. If you get saved after you leave here, this experience will be in your memory as long as the save file exists.”