Woman of Glass

by Stephen Cote

shoulder. He turned and saw Bashi’s face, calmly smiling.

  "Someone wants to see you."

  He followed Bashi through the crowd, leaving Carlos and Gloria in the alley. Bashi led him to several blocks east to an elevated park. He told Julian to wait, and then walked away.

  "Scan?" Julian asked.

  "Wait," Bashi said.

  Julian sat down on a stone bench, mag-cars buzzing overhead. Some minutes later, a hand touched his shoulder. He stood and faced the synthetic, the woman of glass. "Truth rendered."

  Light flashed through its body. "You don’t know what you have done for me. How much this freedom means."

  Julian shook his head, stepped back.

  The synthetic advanced and placed both hands on his shoulders. It said, soft and articulate, "I thought you didn’t shiver, Julian."

  "Groko," he said. The blueprint sketched on the wall in his neighbor’s house. The crippled scientist. "Lee."

  It stepped near him, the front of the luminous body touching his chest. "I need you."

  "This is kicked. I don’t … don’t chase plastic."

  The light inside the synthetic darkened and shifted to mournful purple and somber amber. "You sang the song, to me and the world. I thought you were singing to me. I thought, somehow, you loved me."

  "Lee," he said and pressed his palms against his forehead. "Lee. So out of tune. Bobble, why? "

  The synthetic touched Julian's cheek. "In those moments we talked and you sang, I fell in love with you."

  "No, no. Down vote." Julian shook his head.

  The synthetic took a step away. "Are you afraid of the person in the chair? Isn't this what you want? A beautiful synthetic and an intelligent mind?"

  Julian grimaced and said, "I can't." He turned from the synthetic and ran.

  Back at his house, Julian found he couldn't sleep. The sound of Lee’s synthetic voice and the graceful lines haunted his restless sleep. She is right. He fantasized about synthetics, and wished to talk with someone about substantial topics. Hadn’t she offered him that dream? But he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, accept it. She just dropped it on the bit. Didn’t she? She asked him. His chance arrived and departed in a fleeting moment.

  He climbed out of bed and walked to the front door. He unlocked it and looked outside into the dangerous night. Replay, he thought, seeing Bashi standing on his front walk.

  "You crushed her, Julian," Bashi said.

  Julian stared, his jaw slack. "I scratched. Effing scratch." He pointed. "You skulked and scanned me for her."

  "To Lee, that was the only way. She’s doesn’t have time."

  Julian leaned against the house, bitter cold leeching through his shirt and pants.

  "She’s dying, and she invented a method to transfer her mind into a synthetic body. She is very close to making it permanent."

  "Bobble."

  "When her body dies, I must return to India."

  Julian frowned. "Why'd she scan me?"

  "You didn't shiver? I can’t answer for her heart. It beats to its own rhythm. Maybe because you stayed and sang her a song."

  "If I grep plastic," Julian said, "That tags x-bomb. "

  Bashi shrugged. "Then say no and I’ll leave. But understand that young woman never had a chance. Until you sang to her, she had lost her desire to live at all. She needs you."

  Julian opened his mouth, but Bashi raised his hand. "Whatever you decide, at least tell her yourself." Then, he walked into the night.

  Why didn’t I listen and skulk her hive, give her a spin? He returned to bed and found only tumultuous sleep.

  Three weeks later, Lee died. That night, Julian watched the street from his doorway, replaying the scene with Bashi. I didn’t even vote, never talked. Across the street, the shadows stirred with shimmering light. He crossed the street and there found the translucent synthetic. He extended his hand and said, "Hola."

  The synthetic raised its hand and wrapped smooth fingers around his. "I am … L … Model."

  He smirked and said, "That night, I shivered."

  Lights fluttered throughout its body. "I am le … lost."

  His smirk faded. "Lee?"

  The light pattern shifted and it released his hand. "Model L, Serial Number. I am … Lee … Lost."

  Something’s trashed. Fused. "Bashi cut you like this?"

  The synthetic grappled with the question and didn’t respond. Why did Bashi leave her? Upgraded body, retconned your mind? Julian led it across the street to his house. Inside, he pointed to a chair and told it to sit. It stared into the distance, motionless.

  He picked up his guitar and sat in a chair. After scratching about for half an hour, the synthetic turned its head and asked, "Play?"