by V R Tapscott
“My, you’ve thought of everything.” I sat back down in my favorite spot. “Now all I need is some tea and I’m ... “ I broke off the words, as a shelf slid out. A mug, a teapot and a full set of cream and sugar holders were set on it cozily. “Wow. I could get used to this!”
A broad smile broke out on Olive’s face. “You really like it?”
“Oh, Olive, I love it. I’ll have to force myself back to the real world when I’m sitting here.”
She relaxed. I could see that she’d been worried about it. Some part of me was even more impressed, though, by the fact that her projection was so perfect that tiny physical mannerisms like tension or unhappiness - or happiness - showed in the simulation of Olive.
I poured tea, wondering idly if I’d dare bring mister Shun down here. I had a feeling I could, since he seemed to know more than he really should. Of course, in his line of work he might hear and see all sorts of things. Plus - I’d never asked what the “prophecy” regarding Jae’Bon was - heck, it might have been pretty explicit in its detail. I’d have to feel him out and find out what he knew. And what he could be trusted with.
Olive sat watching me. Kit had been able to read my brain waves and while he never admitted to being able to actually read my mind, it was scary how close he could come to knowing what I was thinking. It was also scary when Olive spoke up.
“I think you can trust him. Everything I can find about him sounds like he’s an honorable man.”
I stirred in cream and sugar before saying anything. She’d included several kinds of fake sugar and also some of my favorite turbinado sugar. I love that stuff - little brown crystals that I could spill into my palm and lick up.
Olive looked on with some curiosity as I did just that. I realized that she could do a perfect job of simulating a person - but could never BE a person. Something as simple as tasting sugar on her tongue was never going to be possible. And I felt a great sadness at the thought. She smiled at me, and I knew she was at it again.
“Don’t feel sorry for me, Jane. I’m able to do far more than you might think.” With that, she picked up a packet of sugar from the table in front of me, tore it open and poured the contents out in her palm. Then her pink tongue came out, and she licked it up - eyes sparkling as she looked at me. She discarded the packet and it fell to the table and lay there. Just as real as if it was real. I reached out and blanched as I touched it - moved it - it was a real sugar packet.
“How ... how did you do that?”
“Oh, it’s more sleight of hand than anything else. I picked up an illusion of a sugar packet, and then made it real as it fell to the table. It’s all just manipulation at a molecular level. Here, look at this.”
She rubbed her hands together and then flung them open, and flower petals flew out of her palms, some of them fluttering down to the table and a couple actually hitting me in the face. Rose petals. And they were perfect rose petals, even smelling like roses. I sat back, bemused.
“I hesitate to keep using trite words, Olive. But it’s hard to come up with anything that has enough impact to describe my feelings. It’s impossible and yet, obviously it’s not. Rose petals? Sugar packets? Is there anything you can’t simulate? This is already far more than just simulation, isn’t it? Is there any limit?”
She looked a little pensive. “Yes, I still can’t do more than small things, Jane. But I’m working on it. I’m expanding the power of the system, with your permission of course, and making more things possible. I’m becoming a full ship, or at least as much as I can, here. But with the ability to pack this much power into such a tiny space, much can be done. Most of the reason the main ship was so huge is the manufacturing facilities and living spaces. Which are there for habitation of non-AI beings. Even though the ship was never commissioned with that in mind, there were those that saw our ships as being more colony ships than exploration ships. Cooler heads prevailed and nothing was even done toward it. But - I do sometimes wonder what happened after our first wave of ships left. After a few hundred years, we were beyond any useful communication. There might be some of the ships floating through the galaxy - with people on them. Or planets where we’ve - they’ve - managed to get a foothold and are building a civilization. Perhaps someday, we’ll go back. Home.”
Our talk turned a bit less serious, and we chatted about her dropping off Bailey in New York. She told me about the roof garden where she’d left Bailey and Georgia heading for a table. She even brought me back a souvenir - a menu from Tavern29. I hoped Bailey and Georgia were having fun!
I finally hauled myself out of my room, bid Olive a good night, and went upstairs. There I found I was able to sit in what seemed the same place I’d just been, and enjoy the sunset. I left all the lights out and watched as it sank through yellows to oranges, roses, reds - then finally darkness. At that point, I pulled out the parchment and wrote a letter to Mister Shun, bidding him welcome and telling him I was looking forward to his visit. That I’d have apples and cider, and plan a tour of Washington’s Wine and Apple Country. Or at least this little corner of it. My penmanship and writing skills didn’t approach his, but I suspected he wasn’t coming to critique my grammatical abilities. Then I got up from my seat and grabbed a big bowl of Sugar Puffs - or whatever they’re calling them now. Horrible for my diet, but oh so good.
Chapter Nine
Back to the future.
Iwoke late the next morning and breakfasted on a bit of leftover roll from yesterday. A cup of decent coffee later and I was ready for the world. Which, thank goodness, consisted of sitting and talking with Olive’s little glowing bit of light. After having the evening last night talking with what for all intents and purposes was Olive as a person, it was a bit disappointing to have just a point of light, but we all take what we can get, I guess.
Olive left to pick up Georgia. I take it there was some kind of mix-up, but Olive seemed more amused than worried. I put it out of my mind as I puttered around, did some laundry and was considering cleaning a bathroom when, oddly enough, a large blue box appeared on my back deck, making a very peculiar noise. I giggled when I realized what it must be - Olive had apparently found Dr. Who.
The door popped open and Bailey stepped out - noted what she’d stepped out of, and broke into gales of laughter. “I could really get to love you, Olive!”
Olive replied with more of an English accent this time, “Spoilers, dear, spoilers!”
At that, we all broke up into laughter. River Song was one of our favorites, although I’ve always been partial to Rose. There was something so urchinly innocent about Rose that you just had to love her.
We all sat around the living room, enjoying the day and each other’s company. Along mid-afternoon we scrounged for snacks and drinks and sat around the table. Bailey had told us all about her trip, laughing about Georgia’s expression as she looked for the now-vanished elevator. Evidently Olive had stayed around long enough to take some video of Georgia’s pragmatic approach to being tossed out on her ear in the Seattle airport. It certainly saved Bailey having to spend time trying to explain the elevator. I asked them why they hadn’t used the Doctor’s box instead of a standard stainless-steel elevator, and Olive said that she figured it would be stretching the bounds of poor Georgia’s sanity to have an ordinary elevator, let alone a fictional one. I had to agree with her.
I’d dropped the letter to Cai in the mailbox that morning, so that die was cast anyhow. I supposed that my mother was well aware of my writing to him, and I certainly didn’t put it past her that she might intercept it, but I doubted she’d dare to do anything more than read it and send it along on its way. In his own way, Cai Shun was a diplomat from Tibet, and politics almost always trumps military might. Either way, I’d planned on following it up with an email letting him know it was on its way.
We sat a while longer - it was definitely a day for thinking rather than doing. I found I was much more effective that way. Or at least I told myself I was. We took Bailey down and showed
off her new office, which she was duly impressed by. In New York she’d picked up a number of items to feather her nest with - and it was almost as if Olive had planned on how to design Bailey’s office along the lines of exactly what Bailey bought. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it? Yes, I’m laughing as I write this. Bailey oo’d and ahh’d at my office, but I could tell that she loved hers much more than mine, and of course, vice versa. I think that Olive might be a much more effective psychologist than she gives herself credit for. On the other hand, I suppose it’s possible that Olive has gone to school (online, of course) in the past few days and gotten her master’s in psych.
A few days passed and the office equipment arrived. I was pretty impressed, all the chairs matched and there was a definite air of sophistication about the setup. Bailey had made sure to have installation included along with all the equipment, so the day everything arrived, a pair of cute nerds also appeared to make sense of all the cables and wires. They appeared to be wholly involved in their personal nerddom, and absorbed with each other. It was hard to read whether they’d met on the job or gotten the jobs to work together, but whatever it was, it was cute. She’d run off and start on something and he’d tag along to do the heavy lifting. She was a tiny thing and he was a hulk and they had each other twisted around each other’s fingers - no doubt each believing themselves in control. No matter the amount of clandestine kissing or looking at each other, they were very efficient and by the end of the second day all the stuff was installed, set up, cleaned up and looking perfect. The conference room chairs were sitting waiting for their various and sundry officers to come sit on them. The 80-inch big screen TV was well mounted on its gimbals and hardly budged when you touched it - no feeling of it being ready to leap off the wall and attack you, or at least land on you. Everything had an air of being ready, breathless and waiting. All we needed now was a victim ... er ... customer. Client? Something like that.
On the other hand, it was also an opportunity for me to run away from home for a while. Bailey had other things to do in Seattle for a couple days and I had nothing to do at all. So, Olive and I went touring. I gathered the requisite snacks and drinks and the like and decided to go visit Dale. I did have the sense to at least call him to see if he was going to be available. I’m just paranoid enough - and I’ve seen enough movies - that I didn’t want to suddenly find out that Dale was more available to other women than I’d thought. I’m usually a generous soul, but I don’t share well, no I don’t.
Olive and I spun along the skyway, looking down all creation. I had her take it slow - which means it took us a couple hours to get to Montana. After all, I had those snacks and I was dang well going to use them! She sat in the chair next to me, this time dressed in those odd holey jeans, a purple Mick Jagger Lives! tee shirt, blue and orange shoes. Today her hair was a violent violet, sticking straight up. She was so adorable that words couldn’t express. It wasn’t the first time I’d wished she was solid - just so I could hug her.
“Olive, let’s go visit the place I dug up Kit in the first place, ok?”
“Ok, boss. I kinda wanted to look at it anyway. I mean, I know what it looks like and where it is right down to the inch, but there’s nothin like seein somethin to know it.”
I agreed with her, and part of me was nostalgic, but part of me just wanted to look at the area again. It seems so strange how my life changed completely just a couple years ago. We touched down in the sandstone waterway where I’d found the bottle. We both hopped out of the ship and stood looking down at ... a hole in the ground. It wasn’t very impressive, I had to admit.
“I remember it being bigger. I dug a lot that day. I also sat over there in the shade, trying to make mental sense of impossibility. A lot more seems possible now, of course. Like you - you’re about as impossible as they come and yet - here you are.”
She smirked. “Yup, here I am. In the flesh. So to speak.”
I nodded. “How’s the body project coming? Any closer to Project Real Girl?”
“Yes and no. It seems that I make strides and then something simple proves to be wrong or I make a wrong assumption and I’m back to square one. It’s ironic, but Kit cleared out big swatches of technical data on the library subsystem to help with power savings and allow more space for the stuff he was workin on. Or maybe he did it on purpose, it’s hard to tell with Kit. Still, I’m always moving ahead. And every step makes another one ahead of me. I know that sounds pathetic and clichéd, but it IS true.
I nodded slowly. “I suppose it’s pretty much the same being a human, same old story over and over again.”
“Uh huh. I’ve spent a lot of time reading through Kit’s notes and looking at his “earth history as I know it” ramblings. It’s funny though, most of Kit’s earth history comes from the same places that all humans get their data from - the internet. But one thing Kit did, and I continue, is to analyze all of it in one place. When you get the same basic story being told in several independent areas of the world, then you have a fair amount of surety that it’s truth. Someday maybe I’ll present a paper on my work.” She grinned at me. “Think they’d take me seriously if I showed up like this? I should get some tattoos to seal the deal, ya think?”
“Aye. I’m torn as to rainbow unicorns or a “MOM” tattoo.”
“Do you have any tats, Jane?”
I laughed. “No, I’ve always been too chicken. How about you, Olive? Any tattoos?” I got the distinct feeling she’d be blushing if her skin color supported it.
“Um. Just one.”
I smiled. “Well, you gonna show me or just tease me along?”
She looked at me uncertainly. “I guess ... show you.” She pulled down the top of her shirt and just above her left breast - over her heart - there was a small heart. With “Jane” tattooed inside.
It was my turn to blush, and I did it royally. I was speechless.
She said, “I could have just lied, but I never want to lie to you, Jane. I know I’m just a robot, a machine, a ... whatever. And I know you’re not interested in girls and you have Dale to boot. But ... I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.”
I was still a moment, then I said, “You’re not a robot or a machine, Olive. You’re just as much a person as I am.” I smiled a bit. “After all, what machine could cry real tears?”
I pointed out a tiny drop of water soaking into the sandstone.
Olive was silent for a moment, then said, “‘I have no mouth and I must scream’, no eyes and I must weep.”
With that, she led the way back to the ship and with no trace of her former emotion, she said, “I’d like to meet Laura, would that be ok?”
“That sounds like a great idea, I’ve missed her. She’s a kick.”
Olive re-formed the ship into its “camo” version, a tiny smartcar. Olive drove, which was quite an experience in itself, considering she’d never driven before either. I had the feeling she was reading Kit’s notes desperately as she drove. Thank goodness we had only landed a few blocks away from The Wagon Wheel and parking was nearby. Tattoo or not, I’d have had to have whacked Olive over the head and taken the wheel. Which could be very confusing since with Olive, reality blurs quite a lot. I suppose next time I drive with her, she’ll have practiced and could win at Indy.
We entered the restaurant together, obviously with me pushing the handle. I have to admit I’d not really thought about Olive actually coming in with me, but it was unthinkable now to ask her to stay behind. We’d parked the “car” close enough so that she should not have any issue with reaching the limit of her projection capabilities, but I suspected she’d be pushing the boundary. We got lucky and Laura was on duty. She looked up as we came in and gave a little whoop and came running over - hugging me tight. We had a bit of a moment when Olive failed to return the hug or even a handshake, preferring to look at the jukebox. I could tell that Laura was a bit put out by Olive’s apparent standoffishness, but that soon cleared as they got to talking - carefully across a table, of course.
Laura’s careless accent along with Olive’s southern drawl made quite a match - and they hit it off together right away. Of course, it helped that Olive knew about anything that Laura wanted to talk about. How handy being hooked directly to the internet. I just sat back and munched fries and listened to them banter about anything from cheese heads to heads of state, Olive effortlessly keeping up with Laura no matter where she went. It was funny - and gratifying - to listen to.
Finally, we started losing steam, and besides the fries were gone. More customers started wandering in, so we took off, waving to Laura as we left, promising future visits. She smiled and nodded, distracted by a customer wanting some ridiculous request, on the side. At least that kept her from wanting to hug on us, which would be hard for Olive to handle.
We climbed into our clown car, and set off to some secluded place where we could get back into the air again without having the Air Force called out. Project Blue Book may have been disbanded, but I bet they’re still out there, looking for the truth. Or at least a really good lie. Considering I had an alien riding next to me in an alien ship to boot, it made the whole thing seem less plausible. Or maybe more plausible. But if so, then why didn’t anyone else ever rescue Kit? I suppose we’ll never know.
We flew off in the late afternoon sunlight, nearly hit that same damn flock of seagulls, I swear, and didn’t even come close to the moon. We landed in Dale’s backyard at twilight. At least he had a back yard to land in - could have been inconvenient if he’d had a small condo. I think he just needed someplace to park the big truck that habitually follows him around.
Dale was pretty fascinated to meet Olive, but we really didn’t have that much time to spend so I decided not to detail her peculiarities ... Dale’s not much of a hugger anyhow, though, so the lack of physical existence didn’t make much difference. Still, he looked at her throughout the night, and while she’s incredible to look at, I think it was fascination with what she is more than who she is. I guess that’s ok, but Olive needs the feedback that she’s human, or at least can pass as one. We did have one nearly comic moment when we found the limit of her projection capability, but since the drink faded out with her, it didn’t matter.