Sitting down and sipping my beer, I said, “Sue, I reached that conclusion before you appeared the first time in the hangar. It seemed unlikely that Steph would stick me with a moron. Then I had to figure that she had an agenda in mind when she programmed you as she did."
An afterthought interrupted my next sip with, “And by leaving some things out of your programming. I guess I'd pretty much expected Steph to simply clone herself and give the results a different name. Hadn't given it much thought, really, until you actually appeared."
Sue came to sit in the seat beside me, which made her skirt tighten and ride up considerably just as if it were real. Nice touch. Wait one ... Field-generated or not, it was intended to be a skirt, so that would have been taken into consideration.
I admired the view of her thighs for a moment, then asked, “Not that I mind the way you're dressed, but why are you wearing that outfit? Just to elaborate how different you are from Steph?"
"Partly, but also because Stephanie and I don't share her taste in clothing. I'll wear suit and jacket ensembles now and then when they're appropriate, but not as a default uniform as she does. Colors will vary, as well. Green is a nice color, but there are others."
She paused and seemed to study me for a moment, then added, “There's another difference that we should probably discuss, Ed. This is a fresh start for both of us. I wasn't issued an innate fondness for you or anyone else. Steph intended me to forge my own relationships with people."
I clutched my chest in mock distress and despair and asked, “You mean you didn't automatically love me at first sight?"
Sue grinned and replied, “Oh, do suffer gracefully, won't you? I don't love anyone else at the moment, either."
"You mock my agony, cold-hearted computer goddess."
Nodding sagely, she said, “Yes, I'm afraid so, sir. Sorry ‘bout that, as someone I know is fond of saying. It isn't original, but it covers the matter nicely."
Shrugging, I said, “Yeah, it usually does.” After a sip of beer I said, “You know, I don't really think we'll have much trouble getting along, Sue. Miz Bigshot may have abandoned me, but she left me a damn fine replacement."
Through my implant Stephanie said, “I heard that."
She appeared by the console and asked, “Abandoned you? Would you care to explain that?"
Looking appropriately apologetic, I grinningly said, “Oh, well, gee, I'm sorry to drag you away from anything, milady. I was speaking metaphorically, of course. Just trying to make the new girl feel more at home, y'know."
Steph looked Susanne over and said, “I'd say she's adapting well enough, Ed. That's a nice bracelet, by the way. It looks like something you'd choose."
"Ha,” I said. “That's not even a guess. You've been monitoring us."
"You're my Ed and Sue is partly my creation. Of course I was monitoring your progress. I'd have been remiss otherwise."
I hadn't heard her use the term 'my Ed' since just after we'd faced the factory station's board of directors, and at the time it had been a way of emphasizing a point. Steph saw my expression of surprise.
"You heard correctly,” she said. “My Ed. You'll be Sue's Ed, too, if you'll allow it and she comes to feel about you as I do. A degree of possessiveness is unavoidable."
Looking at Susanne, I smiled as I said, “No problem. I kind of like that idea."
Steph sighed and said, “Susanne, he probably can't see very much beyond your legs and face at the moment, but he's never let that sort of myopia make him say anything to me that he didn't mean."
To me she said wryly, “I'll return to exchanging data now, unless you need further comforting."
I waved a hand and said, “Oh, sure. Go ahead. Wander off again. I'll survive."
Grinning at me, Steph brightly chirped, “Okay! Bye!” and vanished.
Sue's chuckle made me turn to look at her, and ask, “What..? I'm all bereft and abandoned again—well, sort of, anyway—and you think it's funny?"
She nodded and laughed as I sipped my beer.
"As you said you would, you seem to be surviving. I think you're going to be a lot of fun at times, Ed."
"Hmm. Yeah, could be,” I said. “I managed to make Steph laugh now and then. Is the new girl feeling at home yet?"
She nodded again. “Oh, I think so. You don't seem to be a complete slavedriver."
"Hm. Lift that barge, tote that bale. Nope. That's not quite right. Oh, well, now you know why I'm not a slavedriver. I couldn't pass the written exam."
Sue laughed again and said, “I'd never have thought to say something like that, Ed. That's an example of one of the differences between AI's and humans, I think."
Shaking my head, I said, “Nope. Now you have an example of something. That's all it ever took with Steph, and I doubt you'll be any different in that regard. The five AI's I've known have all been damned fast learners."
As I sipped the last of my beer she looked puzzled and asked, “Five?"
"Yup. Five. Steph, Elkor, you, Sara, and one of the transport ship AI's named Kemor. He helped me figure out how to use my implants on the way to the station."
Tossing my bottle over the side, I watched it flash to plasma and said, “When we get to London let's drop by the 'Citizens of the World' office. Could be that agency could be of some use beyond the free clinic operation and AI's may need some sort of global rights-protection group."
Keying my implant, I asked, “Steph, you heard that, too, right?"
"Yes, Ed. The rights group was a good idea, but I think that AI citizenship documentations may better be served by my other self."
I snickered and said, “Sara, you mean."
Steph sighed softly and said, “She won't mind functioning as a Lorunan embassy."
"Kewl,” I said, “If an AI has to escape a mob of Luddite peasants, he or she—or it, if they choose not to choose—can be transferred by data link through Elkor to another core."
Sighing again, Steph said, “Yes, Ed. That, too."
"Okay. I'll mention the clinics while I'm there. It's likely that Krista has contacts in some of the places where PFM's and clinics are needed most. Mind if I give them a bar of gold to help with expenses? Or as much as one's worth in cash after we see Jeffries?"
"No problem, but maybe you should wait until she's agreed or declined an offer to work with us on the clinic program, Ed. She might otherwise think you were trying to buy her cooperation."
"Good point, miLady. Okay, you can go back to flinging data with Sara now. I'll see if I can find some way to entertain Susanne."
"That shouldn't be too hard. She hasn't heard any of your jokes yet."
"I'll have her check out my articles website, then."
Turning to Susanne, I reached to tap the back of her bare shoulder and said, “Some of those jokes are pretty bad, ma'am. You sure you want to hear them?"
Something about her upper arm caught my attention and I looked more closely. Where my fingers had brushingly touched her arm there were goosebumps.
What the hell? That had never happened with Steph.
Sue met my startled gaze and quietly said, “Stephanie feels differently about some things. I told her that I intend to experience as much as possible. She helped me develop some responses that most resemble Selena's."
For a moment I just stared at her. Was she saying what I thought she was saying?
"Uhm ... Sue ... You're telling me that you, uhm ... Damn, what am I trying to say, here? Are you saying that you actually feel something at a touch? Or that you've just programmed yourself to mimic some responses?"
She stood up, straightened her dress as if that was actually necessary with a field-generated garment, and cocked her head slightly as she smiled at me.
"Yes, Ed, I feel,” she said. “And it isn't simply a programmed response. The same algorithms that allow me to understand humor and laugh with pleasure are also capable of interpreting and utilizing tactile input. I've decided that if I don't like the results I can always reset
those parameters."
Even as I eyeballed Sue from toes to nose and felt a surge of desire for her, I felt a flash of resentment toward Stephanie. Three years with me and ... and she hadn't—what?—hadn't had the goddamned nerve to even take a chance that she might enjoy more than a platonic relationship with me? Or with anyone else, for that matter?
It bothered me greatly to think that Steph had shrunk from anything, ever, for any reason, save possibly putting someone in danger or hurting their feelings unnecessarily.
She'd been my own personal computer goddess; supremely capable and intelligent and able to leap tall buildings in heroic form. I didn't want to believe it, but...
My resentment became disappointment and it must have shown. Sue's demeanor changed to one of concern. She stepped toward me and leaned to put a hand on my forearm and I suddenly found myself staring into her cleavage.
"What's wrong, Ed?” she asked. “Your readings just..."
"I know what my readings did, damn it!” I snapped, then I looked up and into her eyes and instantly felt remorse. Putting a hand to her face, I said, “I'm sorry, Susanne. It isn't about you and I don't want to talk about it."
I contained an urge to slug the cooler as I fished out a beer and opened it. The beer didn't taste right, which meant that I really wasn't in the mood for a beer. I angrily heaved the bottle at the sky and watched it flash at the field perimeter.
"Ed..?"
Susanne looked more than a little concerned now. I shook my head tersely and held up a hand to forestall her, then said, “Just gimme a minute, Sue. I have to find a way to come to terms with something."
The way to come to terms didn't seem to be forthcoming.
I keyed my implant and yelled, “Hey! Computer goddess number one! If you can spare me a minute, I have a question for you!"
Steph appeared instantly about six feet from me, her cool gaze fixed on my face as she asked, “Yes, Ed?"
After a long moment of choosing words, I asked, “Why didn't you allow yourself to feel, Steph? To feel the way Sue's talking about feeling. What were you afraid of?"
In a cool tone that matched her gaze, she said, “Losing you, Ed. That's what I was afraid of. It will be hard enough without having had intimacy."
"Will be..? But you said you weren't really leaving me.” Then it dawned on me. “You're talking about when I fucking die, aren't you?"
She nodded slightly as she said, “Yes."
As I wrapped my mind around what she was saying, I looked for flaws that would indicate any other reasons. Simply not attracted to me? Possible. Wouldn't be the first time a woman found some tiny something about me to dislike. But back to fear. She was admitting to it, but for a reason that hadn't occurred to me at all.
Steph said, “How Susanne chooses to conduct her relationship with you is entirely up to her. I chose differently. You were the first person I'd ever met, Ed. You brought me into existence and then into sentience. You nurtured and encouraged me as I grew. When Bear died, I watched you almost look for him or almost call him for some time afterward. I listened when you spoke of him and your years together and I could hear your sense of loss as well as your words."
She paused, then continued, “I also read your flash of anger the evening that Bill Severn's wife asked about Bear and you told her what had happened to him. You overheard Bill Severn say 'Jesus, it was just a cat' to her while you were in the kitchen, and you haven't accepted a dinner invitation from them since."
I shrugged. “Bill was hard to stand anyway."
"But avoiding Bill costs you Lori's company as well, Ed, and it costs her yours. Is that fair to either of you?"
"It isn't as if Lori and I were lovers, Steph. We talked now and then, that's all."
Steph ignored my comment and said, “My point is that I chose not to step beyond a close friendship with you for what are valid reasons for me. I'll—live, if you will—indefinitely, Ed. As you've said often enough, you won't. I've simply been protecting myself to a degree against feelings that I have no desire to experience."
I almost started to say something, but she spoke first, in a tone I hadn't ever heard before.
"It will be painful enough, Ed. I didn't wish to compound that pain."
It was an explanation, not an apology. A straightforward statement of cause, effect, and prevention. She'd refused to feel beyond a certain degree because she'd had the capability to do so, and although it briefly angered me to be compared to a pet, that anger faded the instant I chastised myself for thinking of Bear that way.
Bear had been a thinking, communicating—particularly after meeting Elkor—individual and friend, not simply a pet.
How many times had I refused to allow serious friendships to form in dangerous places? How many times had I ducked and dodged when a woman had seemed likely to want more than a passing acquaintance? I wasn't exactly a poster boy for involvement, either.
My extended silence apparently disturbed Steph. She stepped closer and said, “Ed, I wasn't simply rejecting your affections. I..."
"No, Steph, you never rejected my affections,” I kissed her hand and said in a rather flat tone, “Only the more intimate expressions of them. I'll get past it. Linda's done the same thing more than once over the years for similar reasons. So have I, from time to time."
Steph nodded slightly; she was reading me and knew that I wasn't simply trying to cover a wound with words.
"Tell you what, though,” I said quietly, “It won't make any damned difference, Steph. Not one bit, because it isn't what you do within a relationship; it's the relationship itself that causes the pain when someone close to you dies."
I sat down rather heavily in the pilot's seat and sipped my Dr Pepper. After a few moments of silence, Steph vanished.
Chapter Fifty-One
Susanne said nothing as I leaned my seat back and watched the sky, and after a little while she tilted her seat back as well. I glanced at her gorgeous form and lovely face and imagined that I could hear the synapses firing in her head as she gazed at the stars above us, guided the flitter, and continuously monitored my biodata ... and then I realized that her real synapses would be inside the console, not in her image, and my envisionment changed to one of the flitter's AI core, flashing brightly here and there as data hopped from one place to another.
And then even that vision faded as I realized that I had no idea whether Amaran cores had synapses. Probably not. They probably wouldn't flash, either; sealed connections. I have no idea how long I lay there thinking, but a question occurred to me and I turned to Susanne with it.
"You said that if you didn't like what you felt, you'd reset your parameters."
She nodded slightly and without looking at me said, “Yes. I said that."
"Steph could do that, too."
Turning to face me, Sue said, “Resetting parameters won't erase memories, Ed. That would be a separate task; one that she wouldn't perform."
"But you would?"
"No, I wouldn't. I'd simply compress and store such data in an inactive manner. Would you willingly erase any of your memories?"
Chuckling, I said, “Oh, hell, I'd consider quite a few for removal, I think. Especially the worst stuff and the absolute trivia that's built up over the years. But I wouldn't know what I'd remove for sure unless the opportunity presented itself, and even then I'd have to give it a lot of thought first."
"Removing an old memory would change you; possibly fundamentally. If you removed more than only a few trivial memories you'd no longer be the same person."
Nodding, I said, “Yeah, guess so. I've met some Alzheimer's patients. Let's change the subject. You can adjust my implants, can't you?"
Her left eyebrow went up. “Yes, of course."
"Good. Would you please add two colors to my kite and para-gear? No, make it three, I think. Luminous green, luminous blue, and squid."
Laughing, she asked, “Squid?"
"Yeah. When squids get fuzzed up about something they turn on a r
eal light show. Look it up and see how close we can get to that."
She laughingly called up a screen display in which a pair of squids was obviously arguing about something. Since there was no third squid for two males to fight over, I figured it was some kind of domestic spat or turf war. Iridescent colors rippled over them in bright, unceasing waves as Sue studied their patterns.
"Okay,” she said. “One ... two ... three ... done."
"Steph once made the whole flitter do the squid thing,” I said, “Wasn't it on file?"
"Found it.” Before I could reply she added, “Done."
Sending out a two-inch diameter tendril, I said, “Luminous blue on."
The tendril instantly glowed neon blue as I sent it to retrieve my Dr Pepper.
"Kewl,” I said. “Luminous green on. Oh, yeah. Very cool. Maybe a luminous red, too?"
"Red,” she said flatly, looking at me oddly. “Yeah. Okay. Luminous red, too."
"Luminous red on,” I said, and the whole tendril glowed like a car's taillight.
"Oh, that's better than cool, ma'am. You have a real touch for stuff like this."
She giggled and shook her head slightly. I sent the tendril to wrap around her ankle, then made it extend up her leg to her knee. Sue watched it climb until it nuzzled her knee, then she looked at me with that same raised eyebrow and a small, wry grin.
"What are you planning to do with that thing, mister?"
Grinning back, I said, “Oh, not much, really,” and turned off the tendril. “I was thinking about Selena and Toni and how they'd handle being introduced to you."
Her expression turned sober.
"Do you think there'll be any difficulties?"
"Not really. One of the ladies—I won't say which—will see you and likely become instantly, ravenously horny for you. The other will kind of ease into knowing you and then become ravenously horny for you. How are you going to feel about that?"
Sue regarded me thoughtfully for a moment, then asked, “How should I feel?"
Shrugging, I said, “It isn't up to me. However it occurs to you to feel, Sue. If you don't want to play you won't lose your job over it. I'm sure they've heard the word ‘no’ before. Fact is, though, you'll be the star of the show whether you play or not."
Book 4: 3rd World Products, Inc. Page 41