by LS Hawker
Disorders like autism, Jade always thought here. Always. But it was implied, and she didn’t need to say it. Clementine’s angelic visage always left an impression.
“How can you do that?”
“The program analyzes and compares the tissue of a damaged or disordered brain to a healthy one, and identifies and analyzes the specific problem areas,” Olivia said. “Then it works backward to map how the brain reroutes the neural pathways away from or around the damage or disorder. So far we’ve input more than three thousand case studies, which has allowed the program to familiarize itself with brain physiology and various damage scenarios. It’s quite fascinating to watch it work.”
“I assume,” one of the suits asked Elias directly, “that your role on the team, as a military man, is to develop military applications for the program.”
“Actually,” Jade said, “Elias was selected for this project because of his . . . idiosyncratic coding acumen.”
“We’re not pursuing military applications at this time,” Elias said, almost primly. “We’re more interested in communication, in unlocking the secrets of the human brain. In testing the limits of computer data organization.”
The suits deflated with obvious disappointment. They always did. Jade guessed a lifetime of watching action movies in which villains used computers to rob casinos or take over the world colored their thinking.
Berko slid his hand forward on the table toward the questioner and said in his quiet, measured voice, “I know you and all the people around this table understand the benefit of diplomacy and how the tiniest nuances in language can ease international relations, can help break down the cultural barriers between one nation and another. Clementine is allowing us to study these nuances. I know you’re as interested as we are in peace. That’s why Colonel Stevenson and Ensign Palomo joined the military. To make the world, this country, a safer place. What better way than by improving communication?”
Berko didn’t say a lot—which seemed weird to Jade since language was his thing—but when he did, it was always worth listening to.
“But most important,” Martin piped up, “by mapping how the program works, which we’re right in the middle of, we’re seeing it functions like a human brain, adapting to changing conditions. The program thinks for itself and integrates all systems as a brain does, rerouting or killing off inefficient protocols. We’ve got some kinks to work out, of course, but we think Clementine has the potential to streamline computer infrastructures by eliminating software conflicts within them. Rather than developing and running different programs for different applications, it’s an all-in-one framework. This is the by-product of a program that creates its own language.”
“What you’re talking about,” one of the suits said excitedly, “is AI, correct? Artificial intelligence?”
Reluctantly, Jade said, “Yes. But unfortunately the term has negative connotations. People envision robots that take over the world. That’s the old way of looking at AI. In the past, scientists coded a program explicitly to develop its own basic language, then set up a physical environment in which mechanical robots carrying the program could ‘live’ and develop their own culture from primitive beginnings. But the problem with robots, as you all know, is that having to move through space presents all sorts of obstacles, both figurative and literal. If they fall over, break one of their own parts, they’re essentially done without outside intervention. Scientists have spent a lot of time trying to improve the design of robots so they can learn as they go, but the limitations of the physical universe make it a slow and ultimately useless process. With the Clementine Program we’ve cut out the ‘robot’ portion of the equation, and Clementine has begun to create its own culture within the theoretical environment, and with that freedom, it’s able to manipulate exponentially more elements than it could in physical space. We’re currently testing Clementine’s ability to create work-arounds spontaneously as we change variables from instant to instant.”
“That’s why our processors only have one connection,” Elias said, “and that’s to the mainframe in Mr. Felix’s office, because we’re not quite sure what would happen if this program went out over the Internet.”
Before the investor group could grab on to this information and fall down a rabbit hole of pointless questions, Jade continued. “My initial Clementine program was fairly rudimentary. Once the four of us teamed up, we began to put all these pieces together—Berko with his language development, Elias’s unconventional coding, and Olivia with her medical background. Together, we’ve been able to do extraordinary things.”
Olivia said, “We know you all can see the potential of this technology. Once our testing is complete, we’ll have a better idea of what the program can and can’t do. Investing always carries risk, but the potential of this program represents the very definition of a buzzword phrase that’s been overused to the point of cliché, and that’s paradigm shift.”
The suits asked some more technical questions, the answers to which doubtless did nothing to increase their understanding. As usual, the interest defaulted to robots. So Jade cut them off.
“Any more questions?” she asked. “About Clementine. Not robots.”
Before anyone could speak, Dan slapped his palms on the glossy table and stood. “Thank you, team. I know all these gentlemen are very grateful you took valuable time away from your project, and we’ll let you get back to it.”
After the visitors filed out of the conference room, Elias shook his head. “Why does everybody assume that all I want to do is blow shit up?”
Jade and Olivia laughed and Berko smiled.
“Think it’s the crew cut, homes,” Jade said, reaching out to fluff it, but he batted her hand away. She laughed.
Jade hoped Dan would leave, and she felt guilty for it. He didn’t, of course, because he’d want to do a postmortem on her presentation. She was appreciative, but she was also impatient. She wanted to talk to Olivia alone.
“It’s one thirty now,” he said. “I’m going back to the motel to make some phone calls, and then how about I take the team out to dinner at the Hungry Harrier about six?”
“We’ll meet you there,” Jade said. It was an unspoken rule that following a presentation, work was suspended until the following day. Which was great news for Jade, because it would give her just enough time to run home to see her mom.
Chapter Four
“Berko and I are going to play drone disc golf,” Elias said. “You guys want in?”
Jade loved playing with the drones, loved watching them soar over the Compound. She’d been ridiculously impressed by how Berko how tricked his out with a tiny but deafening Harman Infinity One speaker, but today she had other plans. “I’m going to go for a drive.”
“Olivia?” Berko said.
“I’m going with Jade,” Olivia said. “I need to get out of the Compound.”
“You just don’t want a repeat of the last time we played,” Berko said. “Coward.”
Olivia shrugged, but Jade knew how competitive Olivia was—how competitive they all were.
“See you at dinner,” Elias said.
Berko waved as they left the conference room.
Jade didn’t want to tell Olivia her plans while they were still in the office building, so she pretended she didn’t mind Olivia tagging along. Martin wouldn’t approve, but Olivia wouldn’t rat her out.
Jade led the way to the house and once inside, turned to her friend. “I’m doing more than going for a ride,” she said. “I’m running home to visit my family right quick.”
“Oooh,” Olivia said. “Scandalous. Playing hooky. Leaving campus. For shame!”
Jade rolled her eyes and mounted the stairs. Olivia followed her up. “Don’t worry, I won’t snitch. And I’m still going with you.”
Jade tensed. She didn’t want the stress of having to prepare Olivia to meet her sister—or to see her mom’s condition in person. “Oh, you don’t have to,” she said. “I’ll be back befo
re dinner.” She pulled her purse out the closet.
“No, really,” Olivia said. “I want to go.”
No, really, you don’t.
One of the shames of her life was the unconquerable anxiety she experienced when people met Clementine for the first time. It had lessened over the years but never completely went away. Clem’s odd behavior repulsed people.
“You want to come to Ephesus?” Jade said. “What for?”
They went downstairs and out to the attached garage.
“To meet your family,” Olivia said. “Especially the girl your program is named for, of course. I know Berko and Elias want to meet her too, but all four of us trooping out of here would get you busted for sure.”
“Okay,” Jade said slowly. “But you need to understand—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Clementine is strange. I get it.”
Both company cars, the Chevy Volts, were parked inside, and Jade and Olivia got in the blue one.
“Here’s the thing,” Jade said. “People always say, oh, yeah. She’s autistic. Of course she’s different. But then people meet her and they freak. Her weird grunting and hooting and hand flapping embarrasses people. It wasn’t until I was twelve and able to babysit that my parents could go out alone together.”
“I can’t even imagine what that must have been like,” Olivia said.
Jade pressed the Volt's start button, then backed out of the garage. She stopped at the gate, rolled down her window, and waved her keycard in front of the keypad. The gate retracted and Jade drove through. She turned south on the dirt road, lost in her thoughts.
“So Clementine was four when she was diagnosed?” Olivia said.
“Yeah,” Jade said. Olivia already knew this, but it was her attempt at keeping Jade engaged, an invitation to keep talking. She loved this about Olivia, this trait so unlike the other East Coasters she’d known. “I was the only one who understood her. I’d translate what she said for my parents. We were at the Sunset Zoo in Manhattan one time, and there was a peacock wandering around, and Clementine chased after it. Over her shoulder, she said to my mom, ‘Cam I soft that kind?’”
Olivia gave her a quizzical look. “What did she mean?”
“‘Can I pet him?’” Jade said. “After that, anytime Clementine spit out gibberish, Mom would ask for a translation. I was kind of the Anne Sullivan to my sister’s Helen Keller—working as an interpreter of the world to Clementine and an interpreter of Clementine to the world. Only a couple of times did I pull something like, ‘She wants you to let me go to the dime store and buy us some candy’ or ‘She thinks I should stay up past my bedtime to watch Saved by the Bell.’”
Olivia laughed. “I would have done that all the time.”
“I know you would,” Jade said. “But my superego is much more sophisticated than yours.”
“You can say that again.”
“My superego—”
Olivia swatted at Jade’s arm. “Knowing you, I’m surprised you went so far away for undergrad.”
“Yeah, well, Mom and Dad told me I needed to find my own life and not define myself in terms of my sister. They encouraged me to do all the stuff a high schooler does—4-H, football, band, dances. They never made me feel guilty for wanting to have a normal social life.”
“If I were going to have kids—which I’m not, of course,” Olivia said, “I’d want to be like that.”
They drove past tillers planting in the wheat fields, the sky a cloudless blue.
Olivia gawked out the windows. “Wow. You can see horizon to horizon. Nothing between us and the edge of the world but corn and dust.”
“This is God’s country,” Jade said.
“You mean the god of straight white Republicans,” Olivia said.
“No, I mean God with a capital G.”
Olivia grinned. “Oh, hey,” she said. “You were going to tell me about what happened in town.”
“Oh, right,” Jade said, glad for the change of topic. She recounted the afternoon’s events.
“Are you shitting me?” Olivia said, her eyes wide in disbelief. “You didn’t file a police report?”
“We had the presentation,” Jade said, defensive.
“If there’s a guy in Miranda who’s going around grabbing women’s asses, you need to report it. Other people are at risk.” Olivia looked out the window then back at Jade. “When we get back to town, we’re going straight to the police station.”
Jade didn’t say anything. Arguing was pointless. Once Olivia issued a decree, that was it. But now, hours later, the attack seemed unreal, dreamlike, as if it she’d only imagined it.
They hit Ephesus fifteen minutes later and drove up to Jade’s family home.
“Listen,” Jade said as she turned off the car. “Don’t say anything about the . . . incident in Miranda to my folks. Okay? They’ve got enough on their plate.”
“Okay,” Olivia said. She got out of the Volt and gazed up at the house, at its turrets and wraparound porch. “This is beautiful,” she said, with a complete lack of sarcasm that surprised Jade.
“It’s home,” Jade said.
“I guess I was picturing tar-paper shacks or something.”
“Of course you were. That’s Arkansas, not Kansas.”
“My bad.”
Jade parked on the street in front then stepped out into the pressure-cooker heat, breaking into a run to get to Clem, as if propelled by rocket fuel. She opened the door and called, “Clementine.” Olivia followed her inside and she closed the door behind them.
Clementine came galloping out, wearing a silky nightgown, ballet shoes, and her fox-ear headband. She stopped short when she caught sight of Olivia, mesmerized by her royal-blue hair. She stood frozen, staring, trying to make sense of what she saw.
“This is Olivia, Clementine,” Jade said. “She’s our friend. Can you say hello?”
Clementine didn’t move, just stared.
“Hi,” Olivia said.
Once they were away from campus and its cell jammers, Jade had called and warned Pauline that she was bringing a friend, hoping she’d persuade Clementine to bathe. This was always an ordeal, because Clementine couldn’t take showers. The jets of water felt like hot needles to her, so luring her into a tub of water was tricky. It had to be the perfect temperature, or she wouldn’t get in. Sometimes it was easier to let her go grimy. The family had resorted to makeup-remover cloths and baby wipes stored in a warmer to keep her somewhat clean.
Apparently there hadn’t been time for a bath, so Clementine’s hair was greasy, but Pauline had cleaned up her hands and face.
“Do you like my hair?” Olivia said to Clementine, her hand going up to it.
Clementine slowly raised her hand toward it, as if it were a magnet.
“You can touch it if you want,” Olivia said.
Clementine had not made eye contact.
“Olivia,” Jade said quietly. “Let her come to you, okay?”
“Sure,” Olivia said.
As if pulled by an invisible line, Clementine drew nearer, staring, her hand out. Olivia stayed perfectly still. It took a good forty seconds for Clementine to make it all the way to Olivia. Then she lightly smoothed her hand down the left side of Olivia’s head.
“Hi,” Clem said, eyes on the hair.
“Hi,” Olivia said. “Do you want your hair to be this color?”
Clementine gaped at Jade, her eyes alight in wonder.
“That would be cool,” Jade said, “except she probably couldn’t stand the bleach.” Jade spoke to Clementine. “Your hair’s so dark, we’d have to use chemicals on it, and the bleach can feel like burning on your scalp, so we might not be able to do it on you.” Jade needed to nip this idea in the bud before it took root in Clem’s mind. Because once an idea germinated there, it turned to bindweed and would not be uprooted no matter how hard or how many times you yanked. Jade turned again to Olivia. “Clementine feels things more intensely than we do. Right, Clem?”
“
I do,” Clementine said, the high-decibel level of her speech making Olivia jump. Clem smiled at this and said, “I also am learning to modulate the volume of my speech. I used to be a lot louder.”
“You did,” Jade said. She held her arms out. Sometimes Clementine would hug her and sometimes she wouldn’t. Today was a would day, so Clementine disengaged from Olivia’s hair and wrapped her arms around Jade’s waist and closed her eyes. “Sissy,” she said.
Jade rubbed her back and breathed in the fusty scent of her hair.
Pauline walked into the room with the aid of her cane.
“Look, Mom,” Clementine said. “Sissy’s here.”
“I know,” Pauline said, then turned her attention to Olivia. “Hello! We’ve heard so much about you, Olivia.”
“Hi, Mrs. Veverka,” Olivia said, shaking Pauline’s limp right hand. Clementine’s eyes fastened on to their shaking hands and finally traveled up to Olivia’s actual eyes before quickly looking away, and she squeezed Jade’s waist tighter. She let go and leaped to her mother’s side, draping Pauline’s arm over her shoulders. Apparently, she’d learned to help steady Pauline. Jade kissed her mother’s cheek as her dad came in the room.
“Hi,” he said to Olivia.
“This is my dad, Robert,” Jade said, hugging him. “What are you doing home in the middle of the day, slacker?”
“Mom told me you were stopping by, so I wasn’t going to miss it.” His eyes welled up. Robert had turned into a crier. Jade wasn’t sure if he’d always been this way, or if the birth of their special-needs daughter had done it, or the ALS.
Since the diagnosis, she and her dad had a hard time looking each other in the eye, because whenever they did, their shared guilt over being the only healthy members of the family was almost too painful to bear for either of them.
Olivia shook Robert’s hand. Clementine went to hang on Robert’s back, hopping as if she wanted a piggyback ride, but she’d been told countless times she was too big now. That didn’t stop her from trying. He let her jump on, but he didn’t catch her legs so she finally gave up. She turned back to Olivia and said, “Do you want to see my studio?”