42
May 10, 2027
Colby Murphy gazed down at Lorccan Garbhan’s scarred face from the magazine cover laid out next to his laptop. Thick black script blocked the unscarred half of his face.
The headline read: “Billionaire Commissions Murderous Robot Wife.”
That, unfortunately, did not count as libel. It was yet another sensational magazine cover depicting Lorccan Garbhan as some sort of lecher.
Unfortunately, his sister would want to know about it.
As if the thought produced her, Alainn appeared on his laptop screen. She sat at a frilly looking desk beside a flowering houseplant. One of her hands lazily scooped dirt from the planter and let it fall. Her surroundings appeared exactly as they always did during their nightly video calls—Alainn alone, surrounded by tall, evening-dark windows. After four weeks of recovery, she still had not gained all of her weight back.
Colby’s heart had broken three specific times in his life—two of those times had been when he thought he lost his younger sister. When the medical automaton told Colby that Alainn’s heart had failed, he made a desperate plan to sell his father’s private AI files to the fastest bidder.
After the mess his family was in because of the whole thing, he was glad he hadn’t needed to.
He pushed his glasses up and looked back to the magazine cover.
“Uh-oh,” Alainn said.
Colby squinted and leaned into the laptop. “What? Is there something the matter?”
She had poor color, though it was hard to tell over his older-model laptop. He definitely needed an upgrade, but this was by far his most secure machine.
“No, I’m fine. Well . . . you know.” Alainn cracked a grin, though it didn’t have much energy or vivacity. “But you were obviously waiting for me to call. Whenever I do, you look like you want to hang up before even saying hello.” Leaning her head on her hand, she raised her eyebrows. “So what’s the damage?”
Colby held up the magazine so she could see it.
To his amazement, Alainn laughed. Her hands came up to cover her mouth, eyes widening. Lowering her hands, she said, “Oh, my god. That’s not funny! I shouldn’t have laughed.”
“Well, I guess if anyone is allowed to laugh, it’s you and Mr. Garbhan—Lor, I mean. It just worries me that public opinion is so ready to vilify him.” Colby peered down at the picture. “I suppose it doesn’t help that he looks the part.”
Alainn’s voice changed from rueful to genuinely upset. “Shut up, Colby. He doesn’t look like a villain. That’s screwed up.”
Colby looked over at the computers that lined the side of his father’s workshop. In his mind, he’d attempted to isolate the insult in his comment. The man had a disfigurement that had for the last century been a distinct indicator of villainous characters.
He knew that Mr. Garbhan wasn’t iniquitous, and that should be obvious to her since Colby trusted him with her health and safety.
“It’s fine, Colby.” Alainn sighed, the harsh edge draining from her voice. “I just don’t like hearing that, but I know you don’t mean it that way. So, do you have any updates about Dad?”
“Unfortunately.” Colby straightened his posture in his chair, feeling a long pain stretch from his back to his neck, probably from sitting in one place for most of the day. “It looks like TechniHealth plans to take Father to court.”
Alainn closed her eyes. It seemed as though his words were weights being tied to her. “See? Lorccan refuses to tell me this stuff.”
“Because of the effects on your health?” Colby asked, considering.
“Trust me, worrying about it and not knowing what’s happening is going to affect my health worse.” Her hand balled into a fist around a clump of dirt and then opened to let small bits fall. “They really won’t let Lorccan buy out Rose’s patent purchase price? Maybe we could offer more. I know Lorccan would do it. If that serum gets out . . .” Her hand clenched into a fist again.
Colby shook his head. “Legally, Dad owns the patent. Since the patent wasn’t Rose’s to sell at the time she sold it and Mr. Garbhan was willing to repay them, the judge didn’t approve the hearing.”
Her brow furrowed. “So it’s not going to court?”
“It is. They’re taking him to trial—and are willing to take it to the Supreme Court.”
If possible, Alainn seemed to grow more pale. “You’re not serious?”
“It was announced today. It’s in national headlines. They plan to have a case determining whether or not Rose 76GF should be treated as a human with human autonomy. The argument is that she should have rights over those things she created of her own volition. I’m sure it doesn’t help that she looks and acts so much like a human.”
“If Rose were treated as a human, she’d be in prison instead of some high-security research facility.”
“It’s likely she will be sentenced to prison if the court rules in their favor.” He looked away. “Though I doubt that any facility could truly hold her now that she has a secondary, glucose-based bio-battery system.”
Alainn gesticulated wildly. “What about a virus that does irreparable brain damage do these psychos not understand? It’s a robotic lobotomy.”
“They call it a miracle cure. They’ve done test studies. People with serious mental disorders have had sudden turnarounds—”
“Isn’t it contagious?” Alainn’s hands covered her forehead, smearing dirt there.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out. On his screen, a recorded video loop of Shelly’s tentative smile played. He muttered, “They . . . uh, think they can suppress that. Alainn, let’s talk about this tomorrow?”
“Who’s calling you?”
“The . . . university.”
Alainn glared at him, though she seemed to sag a little from the effort. “Really, Colby? What’s more important than talking about this?”
“Isn’t Mr. Garbhan going to show up any second now?” Shelly always called Colby a minute after she and Mr. Garbhan finished with their nightly calls.
Alainn blinked heavily; her eyes looked like they wanted to stay closed. “What time is it?” She peered over her shoulder, obviously hearing something. “Oh, you’re right. He’s on his way.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow at seven. I like that we now can keep a standing appointment for once. Goodnight.” He began to turn away when Alainn leaned in toward the screen.
“Colby, if this gets bad, I think maybe we’re going to have to figure this one out, just you and me—and maybe some of your old friends.” She regarded him levelly until something grabbed her attention on the other side of the room.
Colby leaned back in his chair. His immediate reaction was to say yes, this was a cause worth risking his freedom and, perhaps, even his future career in academia for—but he hesitated. Hospital beds and the blurry image of medical automatons sped through his mind.
Alainn looked back at him, brown eyes alight with excitement. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” he asked as he rubbed the sore ridge of his nose under his glasses.
A spark of her old self shone in his sister’s too-thin face. “Rosebud says she already has a plan, and it involves both of us.”