When the automatons chased Alainn farther into the building, Shelly waited for them to return, whimpering. She’d stood with Blue, who had looked up into her face and begun to make a keening sound the moment Alainn was out of sight.
After a minute, all of the automatons had returned to Shelly, and they’d been loaded into the car. The three of them were just waiting there for—he didn’t know what. He took it to mean that, for good or ill, his sister had managed to infiltrate Mr. Garbhan’s home.
More sirens thrummed into the area, and the police car they were cuffed in drove forward before veering off to the side.
The automaton in the front of the cruiser turned in his seat again, his face a light brown, featureless smudge. “We have been notified that neither of you is the reported intruder. We apologize on behalf of the department of public safety. You will be released as soon as the area is cleared of emergency vehicles.”
“What’s going on?” Shelly whispered.
The automaton didn’t answer, instead saying, “Are either of you family members of Alainn Murphy or Lorccan Garbhan?”
“I’m Alainn Murphy’s brother,” Colby said as he squinted through the window, hoping to bring some of the scene into focus.
“You will be permitted to ride in her ambulance once she is loaded.”
“Is she okay?” Colby squinted harder, but only saw human-shaped blurs of color next to red and yellow emergency vehicles.
The police didn’t respond. Beside Colby, Shelly cried between gasping breaths. “Can I go with Lorccan Garbhan?”
“Are you a family member?”
Colby said “Yes” just as Shelly said, “I’m a friend.”
“Sorry, miss. No.”
Shelly sobbed harder.
Colby found his hand wanting to go around her shoulders; he had the strongest urge to give her some comfort.
To his surprise, Shelly curled into him. Though she smelled so unpleasant that the car had been almost intolerable the last forty minutes, he moved closer to her, feeling warmth growing in him.
“I need to go,” he said as he heard the door beside him open. Colby twisted toward Shelly to let the automaton reach his handcuffs. “Call me and I’ll update you, Ms. Dover.”
“Okay. And you can call me Shelly,” Shelly whispered, her voice breaking halfway through.
“Colby,” he said as the automaton uncuffed him. He’d introduced himself earlier but doubted that she would have remembered; he knew the amount of adrenaline and epinephrine in her system meant a high likelihood of short-term memory loss.
The automaton led him straight to the ambulance and gave him a hand up into the open doors of the medical response vehicle.
The ambulance was a blurry mess of movements. He thought he could make out a bed and perhaps Alainn’s arm as medical robots moved around her. The doors closed behind him and the vehicle sped off before he’d managed to find the seatbelt by touch.
“Is she okay? What happened to her?” he asked the nearest medical robot. It was hard to tell, but this one seemed to look more mechanical than humanoid.
“She is unconscious, suffering from severe hypoxia. She is being administered oxygen. Please stay seated until we arrive in the hospital,” the robot said in a smooth, male voice.
“Was she strangled?” Colby asked.
“Yes. She also suffers from exposure to high levels of carbon monoxide.”
The vehicle zoomed forward for several minutes, sirens blaring. Though the robots moved near constantly, Alainn didn’t move or make a sound.
The vehicle roared into the hospital driveway. Its doors opened. Blurry automatons waited.
“Please disembark.”
Colby jumped out and hurried to the side as the production line quickly unloaded his sister. Within seconds, her hospital bed raced forward. Colby ran, trying to keep close as blaring lights slashed past and the whistle of engines zoomed through the space.
As he ran through the dozens of bodies, he didn’t hear a single voice echoing in the busy loading zone.
Colby chased the bed that held his sister. As the bodies that pushed her swayed with their rapid footfalls, he saw quick flashes of Alainn. Black smears of her hair interrupted white sheets. A contraption covered her face, likely the oxygen delivery system.
The hallways echoed with the sound of wheel squeaks and footfalls, but not a single voice. His breath rasped loud in his ears as the bright-white hallway glared down at him.
A long line of what looked like automatons with beds gathered ahead, but the automatons pushing Alainn passed the line, cutting to the front.
“Please step back, sir,” an automaton said as Colby made to follow.
Colby stepped away, watching Alainn and her bed being pushed into a giant, white, shining contraption.
“Follow me, sir,” another automaton said.
Colby followed it through a set of doors. He met Alainn’s bed as it was being pushed through another pair of open doors.
Colby made to follow, but the same automaton stepped in front of him, blocking his path. It said in its smooth, inhuman voice, “Are you the brother of Alainn Murphy?”
Colby squinted at the automaton. “Yeah.”
“We’re going to need you to fill out some information for your sister.” The humanoid robot put what Colby could only imagine was supposed to be a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Your sister is suffering from acute renal failure due to complications with the release of myoglobin from her heart—”
“Are you going to do dialysis?”
“Yes, but first she needs to go into a hyperbaric chamber, sir. Do you know her allergies, insurance information, and if a printed organ transplant is covered by her insurance?”
The words seemed to stick in his throat, “Organ transplant?”
“If it becomes necessary.”
Colby automatically motioned to push up the bridge of his glasses, but met only air. “Uh, I can get that information.”
“Please do that as quickly as possible. You can input it at one of our form stations.” He gestured behind Colby.
“I—I can’t see. My glasses were smashed, and I have irreparably damaged eyes.”
“Of course. An assistive automaton will be out with you shortly.” The robot reached over and, again, touched Colby’s arm. “The good news is that her diffuse cerebral hypoxia did not cause any permanent brain damage.”
Colby nodded. “That’s good . . . good.”
The medical automaton spun around before charging back through the doors.
Colby stood in front of the doors, staring forward, seeing nothing.
He’d wanted to help his sister be happy. Instead, he might have helped her die.
40
April 12, 2027
“Please wake up, Mr. Garbhan.”
Lorccan Garbhan’s eyes opened to the sight of gleaming metal curtain rods on a long track. A low, even beeping chimed from somewhere nearby. The taste of disinfectant fumes coated his tongue.
Lorccan’s hand came up to find a tube crossing from the scarred to the unscarred sides of his face. Two further tubes were stuffed into his nostrils. Yet another tube was connected to a taped-on needle at his wrist, inhibiting his movement.
“Hello, Mr. Garbhan. I am your personal nursing station. You can call me Darla, or by my model number, D1490872AT3, if you prefer.”
“Darla, I shouldn’t be here,” Lorccan rasped. “I have a very low-functioning immune system. The medical automaton was supposed to come to my house.”
When Lorccan bent his head, he saw that the digital nurse was an older model. While her face was humanlike, she was far from human. She stood above him, metal joints exposing her rudimentary functioning.
“We found no abnormalities in your scans, but at your household’s insistence, we provided a room for you that is secured for those with autoimmune disorders or diseases.”
“That’s not enough; I’ll need to be returned to my tower. I’m not abnormal. I just haven
’t been exposed. I don’t have the same immunities as most. Right now, I’m suffering from sporotrichosis—a fungus. Have they administered the supersaturated potassium iodide and amphotericin B treatment?” Lorccan asked.
“We have good news. Sporotrichosis was not found on your scan. And you will be allowed to return as soon as the entire tower is clear of carbon monoxide, sir. Your household has arranged a clean-vehicle transport for you.”
For the first time, Lorccan peered around the room. The area was not so different than his home when the screens were in their natural state. Only beeping machinery and encased medical supplies interrupted long stretches of white, clean walls.
“Are the doctors sure it was carbon monoxide and not an infection?” he asked.
The robot Darla nodded, though it looked more like a swivel of her head. “Both you and Ms. Murphy suffered the effects of carbon monoxide poisoning. There had been a slow leak in your vents for at least a couple of hours.”
Lorccan squinted in confusion. “Alainn Murphy? Connor Murphy’s daughter?”
The robot looked away, lifeless gray eyes losing focus. She turned back to him. “Connor Murphy is listed as her father. I have an urgent question to ask you in regards to Ms. Murphy, but I am required to wait ten minutes after your waking to ensure you are of sound body and mind.”
“How did she get exposed to carbon monoxide?” Lorccan asked as he raised his hand to the scarred side of his face, brushing over the tube.
“The account I have been provided with says that she disabled your security system, fled police custody, ran for a substantial amount of time under exposure, and was in a physical altercation with a robot inside your household—”
Lorccan sat up abruptly, yanking his tubes. “Is that robot all right?”
“I do not have a record of that information.”
Lorccan’s breaths came hard and fast. “Obtain it, please.”
The robot looked away again. After what felt like forever, Darla turned back to him. “The robot was attempting to kill you.”
“She was confused, I’m sure. Jade likely fought to prevent me leaving, thinking she was protecting me.” Lorccan pulled the IV from his arm. “Have you pulled up the record yet?” he snapped.
Darla’s eyes glazed over again. “Your household has a lot of information on the subject.”
“Just tell me, specifically, what happened to the robot.” Lorccan leaned toward the Darla model. “Please.”
Her eyes moved rapidly from side to side, as if she was reading rather than scanning information internally. “The robot’s physical body was destroyed in the altercation with Ms. Murphy and then further destroyed by your household. The other robot is trapped.”
Lorccan’s head fell into his hands.
“Alainn Murphy saved your life and is now close to death—”
Lorccan pressed fingers into his eyelids. He whispered, “Alainn Murphy destroyed my life. Please, leave me.”
“I have an essential question to ask you, but I need to wait ten minutes to ask it—”
His whole body shook, but he managed to keep his voice inflectionless. “I am of sound mind and body; just ask me and leave.”
“Alainn Murphy is in need of an immediate organ transplant. While her insurance covered the other life-saving procedures, organ printing and transplant are not covered due to her part-time status. Our hospital is required to ensure payment for procedures of this cost level before they are performed.”
Lorccan glared up from his hands. “You’re asking me to save the life of the woman who killed the woman I loved.”
“That is not in my records, sir.” Darla looked off, again. “Alainn Murphy sustained these injuries in the direct act of saving your life. Her family asks that you do this. They have a message for you.”
“I have a message for Connor Murphy. Tell him to use the millions of dollars he extorted from me to save his own daughter’s life. Alainn Murphy took everything from me, and I could care less whether she lives or dies. Go away, please. Just go away. My answer is no. I won’t pay to keep that woman in this world.”
“I need to remain here so you have a sanitized robot for continued care. I can shut down, if you would like.”
Lorccan nodded, looking away. “I would like that.”
The robot began to close its eyes, but the lids suddenly shot back up. “There are multiple attempts coming in to make contact and appeal your decision. More than one source says that there is a relevant explanation that you need to know before making your final decision. One of these appeals is from your household—from Rosebud.”
Lorccan’s fingers dug into the roughened skin of his forehead. His chest heaved up and down. “No. The answer is no. Tell them that. I just want to be left alone.”
Darla nodded. “Your household, Rosebud, states that if you will not approve the funds, she will wire them regardless.”
“She doesn’t have that kind of approval,” he growled.
“Your household says Alainn Murphy is the same woman as Jade, and if you will not pay to save her, your household will—no matter the consequences.”
Lorccan’s head rose from his hands. “What did you say?” he whispered.
“Alainn Murphy is Jade. This message is being repeated through multiple sources.” Darla looked off again, then she said, “Your household states that Alainn saved you. Now you need to save her in return, or she hereby tenders her resignation.”
41
April 19, 2027
Alainn blinked open her eyes to see snowflakes drifting slowly down over her. The clouds sat high above, scattering the flakes as they fell lazily to earth. Half-asleep, she gradually realized that the snow was very warm and dry. Also, the snowflakes stopped just short of reaching her, floating and dissipating above.
She tried to turn her fuzzy head slightly, but something restrained her motion. She tried to lift her hands, but they were too numb, too weak, to move. So instead she lifted her head and saw her mountain.
Skiers disembarked from a ski lift in the distance, disappearing down the slope. But from where she was, she had a perfect view of miles and miles of the wild beyond. It was her view—the view of a black-and-white expanse, patchy from rocks and streams that cut through the snow.
A lot of time must have passed. The air around her was warm, and the snow had melted off many of the pine trees. As she looked around, she realized the view didn’t really make sense.
She was too high up and not looking over snow at all, but a cushy white blanket.
“What?” she whispered as she caught sight of a desk sitting in the snow. Well, it wasn’t actually in the snow, it was on the snow, not sinking into it.
The figure of a man was slumped over the desk. His back slowly rose and fell with the even cadence of sleep.
Arching her neck to look down, Alainn realized that not only was she lying across a bed, but red, yellow and blue tubes crisscrossed her body. Some connected to her arm, others led under the blankets. Large, thin disks were plastered across almost every inch of her exposed skin.
Slowly, she managed to raise her IV-free arm. It felt as if invisible weights shackled her wrist. When her hand managed the entire journey up to her face, she found several more tubes, including a thick one leading into her nose. Another tube was connected to a large disk on her forehead.
“Alainn, do not remove your medical equipment or I will need to call your medical automatons in here,” said a familiar disembodied voice.
Alainn tried to speak, but no sound came out. After almost a minute of just breathing, she whispered, “Rosebud?”
“Good morning,” Rosebud said. Then her voice moved across the room, “Wake up, Mr. Garbhan.”
Alainn’s gaze passed back to the sleeping man at the desk.
“Mr. Garbhan, Alainn is awake. Wake up now.”
Slowly, his figure shifted on the desk, his back muscles moving under a gray suit jacket.
“Alainn is awake, sir,” Rosebud repeated.
Lorccan sat up abruptly. Head turning, his gaze found Alainn. His lips parted slowly, brows low over pale blue eyes. He stood, his gaze unwavering.
“Hi,” she managed.
His feet brought him to her, shoes passing above the snow. The expression didn’t leave his face, not when he was ten feet from her, nor when he was so close that she might be able to touch him if she worked up the energy.
“You made it out,” she rasped.
“I—” Lorccan half fell, half crouched down to his knees beside the bed. “They told me that it was you but, I—”
“Didn’t believe them?” She shifted her hand until the ends of her fingertips could just brush his beautiful, scarred face. “I thought we both died.”
He didn’t respond, just regarded her. A tear made its way down the ridges of his scars.
“Do you hate me now that you know who I really am?” Her fingers brushed slowly over his chin and lips.
He said nothing for almost a minute. “You’re crazy, Alainn Murphy,” he whispered in a harsh voice.
She breathed a laugh. “That’s probably true.”
“You think that if I loved you when I thought you were a robot, that I wouldn’t love you knowing that you’re human?” He pressed his face into her hand gently, giving her the lightest kiss on her palm.
“I guess I’m a little stupid,” she whispered.
“No, you’re not.” He carefully, slowly, lay down beside her. His face settled into the pillow, inches from hers. Fingers came up, brushing hair away from her temple.
“You want to make out?” Alainn croaked.
He laughed as one more tear dripped from his lashes.
“I have a lot of tubes in me, huh?” She could feel them as she came fully awake. Tubes led from her stomach—and even lower places as well. Large, sticky, plastic probes were glued to probably a dozen circles on her skin, maybe more. Her eyes wanted to close again, but she fought them back open. “I’m taking a guess here—there were some complications?”
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