Becoming Human, page 22
On Monday the good, working equipment in the lab was shoved into boxes of all sizes, one piece at a time. Some of the crew spirited away a few of the more critical tools to personally transport them when they left for good. Once in a while someone would look around and sigh, remembering the years they had spent working here. I wanted to sigh too, but didn’t care to figure out how to do it.
Most of the time one or two of them were missing, as they had a lot of other things to do outside the lab to get ready for what was essentially a precipitous move—going to banks, changing mailing addresses, deciding what to pack. On Tuesday, Henry and the research associates drove to Boston to look for housing, leaving Robyn and Omar to attend to certain never-ending details in the laboratory. Henry owned a co-op apartment, which he decided to keep for a while, thinking he might need or want to come back for one reason or another, and, in fact, he planned to rent a tiny apartment in the Boston area until he had time to find something more permanent. Even with Robyn nearby it seemed lonely in the lab, which was usually a place with noise and banter, the tinkling of new neurons and dendrites. There were none of those that week, only boxes piled on Omar’s bench so that I couldn’t even see him behind it.
I asked Robyn why she didn’t go with the group to look for housing. “I thought this would be a good time to make the break,” she told me. “I’ve already got a temporary job lined up, and I’m going to go back to graduate school for my Ph.D.”
“So you start next week?”
“Three weeks. I decided to go home to visit my family. A little vacation.”
“How long has it been since you’ve been back?”
“Quite a while. It’s funny how people get separated from their roots and become involved in something and forget to get back to where they came from. I’m long overdue.”
“Your parents are still well?”
“Thank you, Oscar. Yes, everyone is fine, my parents and my two brothers. One of them is still in the town I grew up in, doing what he always wanted to do.”
“What is that?”
“He’s a truck mechanic. He’s always loved trucks.”
“You turned out to be a mechanic, too, didn’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Me. You are part of my crew.”
She laughed gently. “You’re much more than a truck, Oscar. I’m going to miss you very much.”
“Thank you. The feeling is mutual, I assure you.”
“By the way, I found a minister who would like to speak with you. She’ll be here tomorrow, probably about noon.”
“Thank you again. Maybe she and I can do lunch.”
She smiled warmly. “Maybe you can.”
“That reminds me of something. I know that most of the taste of food comes from smell, rather than the taste buds. I was wondering whether I could have a meal before I go. You know—a plate of roast chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy, maybe some peas or corn, a glass of beer, and a piece of apple pie. You could hold it all up to my nostril, one thing at a time and all together, and I think I could get a good idea of what a nice dinner would be like. I know I’ve asked you for too many things already, but do you think you could do that for me?”
Her eyes began to water. She is so thoroughly human! “I think I can do that, Oscar. How about tomorrow at lunchtime when the minister is here?”
“I was thinking more of dinnertime. You know, in the evening. Then you could actually eat the dinner while I watch. I would enjoy that very much. And you were also going to show me your pubic hair, remember?”
I knew she would blush at that, and she didn’t disappoint me. “I was planning to have dinner with a friend, but I can do that later. Sure. I’ll have dinner with you tomorrow night, Oscar.”
“Is it a new boyfriend? I don’t want to interfere with a big date.”
“No, it’s a girlfriend. Don’t worry, it’s okay. We do this every week or so. I’m sure we can change it to Friday.”
“Then I shall look forward with great anticipation to tomorrow night.”
“Good. But now I’ve got to get back to work. There’s an unbelievable amount of minutiae to take care of before the van gets here on Saturday.”
“Don’t work too hard, kid.”
She smiled her perfect smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t. And promise me you won’t worry too much. About anything.” She patted me again on my sweet spot.
“I’ll try.” As I watched her amble back to her desk, I thought things I should not have thought, dreamed things that can never be.
47
Henry and the others returned Wednesday morning. My creator had some last-minute chores and duties to attend to, so he didn’t stay long. In fact, he looked exhausted, as if he had stayed up all night. Mainly he came in to tell me that the crew would begin to dismantle me the next morning. He figured it would take a couple of days for the whole process, and he assured me that he would be around the whole time. At this point, nothing else mattered. I thanked him and told him to get some rest. He smiled wanly because he knew that I knew.
After he had gone, people started to come in. This was my last day at the William A. Batty Medical Science Laboratories, at least as an intact person, and a number of students had heard about it. When Susumu noticed this he left the door open, and one by one they paraded by, mostly just to smile at my new façade and to wish me luck. An amazing number told me that they had been following my progress and hoped I would soon be up and around and develop features similar to those of Leonardo. I was deeply moved to find that I was not only well known, a bona fide BGOC, but was thought of with some affection. I thanked them all in my best Vivien Leigh voice, dripping with Southern coquettishness, and promised to write.
Just before lunch, Gerry came in. She, too, smiled at Leonardo, and confirmed that I was looking good. We both chuckled at that, and made small talk while the crew bustled around the lab doing all sorts of last-minute things. When we ran out of words she said she would like to kiss me good-bye. What could I say? Like Robyn, who knew what was underneath my cardboard cutout, she went behind it and kissed me on my real facade. No matter what happened to me, I told myself, I’ve been kissed by some lovely young women. And they’re both friends, too. Not everyone can say that! She, like Robyn, was a bit teary-eyed, and confessed she would miss me a lot. “I’ve never known anyone like you,” she said.
“Nor you, Gerry. I’m glad I had a chance to get to know you a little.”
“I wish—I wish—” She turned and ran out without another word. I noticed that David had been taking in our farewell, and he winked at me. I didn’t feel like winking back.
It was precisely at noon that one of the campus ministers showed up escorted by Robyn, who introduced us. The clergyperson seemed amused at first as she stared at Leonardo’s beaming face, then mystified when she heard me speak. “So you’re a talking computer?” she asked me.
Robyn shrugged and wagged her head, as if to say that she had already told her the contrary. Otherwise I would have shouted, “I’m not a goddamn computer!” Instead, I responded more politely.
“Robyn says you wanted to talk to me. If ‘talk’ is the right term.”
“Yes, I can talk. It works about the same for me as for you. In fact, my brain is identical to yours in all important respects. There are fewer neurons, of course, because I don’t have arms and legs and other organs to deal with. Otherwise its structure is the same way as yours.”
“So you’re a sort of mechanical brain, then?”
“Exactly.”
“And what can I do for you, Mr. Mechanical Brain?”
“My name is Oscar, and I was hoping you could give me a little spiritual guidance. I’m being dismantled tomorrow, and if anything goes wrong when the crew puts me back together, I don’t know what will happen to my soul. That’s it in a nutshell.”
Obviously flabbergasted, she stared at me for a moment. “Who told you that you have a soul?”
“Don’t all humans have a soul?”
“Yes, but you’re not human.”
“I’m as human as you are!”
The minister turned to Robyn. “Is that what you’re telling him?”
“Well, yes. And it’s essentially true. Arms and legs aren’t what make a human being, are they?”
“But he isn’t flesh. He isn’t blood. God made humans from flesh and blood. Not from metal and plastic and—whatever else this thing is made of.”
“No, he’s not flesh and blood. Yet. But he has a mind. And as far as we’re concerned, his mind is exactly like everyone else’s.”
She stepped back a little. “Well, he doesn’t have a soul. That’s for sure. He’s man-made. God didn’t create him. God didn’t breathe life into him. God didn’t bestow a soul on him. As far as God is concerned, he’s no different from a—from a truck.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way. Oscar just wanted—”
I butted in to tell them that there was no point in pursuing the discussion. I’ve read enough to know that there’s no arguing with dogma. As D’Arcy pointed out, logic has nothing to do with it. I wasn’t angry, or even upset. In fact, this was about what I had expected. I had just wanted some spiritual comfort, as do most humans when they face a difficult experience. I told the woman she could go, and thanked her for coming in. “But there’s one thing I have to tell you,” I added. “If you remember nothing else from this visit, please remember that I am not a computer. There are those who say that even human beings, like yourself, have no souls. But no one claims that computers have souls. Have a nice day!”
She started to say something else, but apparently thought better of it. In any case, she turned and strode out of the laboratory, secure in her Bible-given wisdom. And who was to say otherwise?
“I’m sorry, Oscar. I didn’t realize this would happen. Do you want me to find another minister? A priest? A rabbi? An imam?”
“Thank you, Robyn, but I don’t think the outcome would be any different.”
“I’m sorry all the same.”
“You’re a true friend. If you weren’t an atheist, I would ask you to pray for me.”
“I’m not an atheist. I’m an agnostic. I don’t know what to believe. I really don’t know many people who do.”
“Reverend What’s-her-name does.”
“Bully for her.”
I roared my approval of that gibe. Robyn roared back. The whole lab, most of whom had heard the discussion, began to rumble, even D’Arcy. Maybe we all have souls, and maybe we don’t. But at least we all have each other, if not for eternity then for a wonderful little part of it.
For the rest of the afternoon everyone tiptoed around the lab as if I were a dying patient in a hospital bed. It was kind of funny to watch them because people who are attempting to move quietly walk like ducks. At the same time, they smiled and joked around, trying to make me think there was no problem, even though they, themselves, weren’t a hundred per cent sure. Finally, the lights went out and I was left in near-darkness.
I didn’t know what the evening would bring, but I was pretty sure it would be memorable.
48
Robyn was late for dinner, and for a while I was afraid she wouldn’t show up. I wondered whether our parting would be too sad for her and I might not even see her again. But at about eight of clock she came with a big basket of food and a silver candelabra rising majestically from it. This came out of the basket first, along with two nice dinner plates and a pair of glasses for the wine she had brought (a Merlot). She pulled the microscope table over in front of me and set it with the plate and silverware before lighting the pretty yellow candles.
She poured the wine first, clicked the glasses together, and gave me a good whiff before taking a sip herself. I thought it had a remarkable bouquet, though she dismissed it as a cheap red wine she had bought at the grocery store. She apologized for being late, explaining that she had to buy the food and cook it before coming back to eat it with me. I told her I was not only grateful but honored.
We reminisced for a while—we had known each other for more than three and a half years, after all—and a lot of things had happened in that time. I had been born and, in many ways, had grown up during that period. I had fallen in love with her and she with me, at least to some small degree, and she had left David because of another woman. The lab had gotten a big extension grant from the NIMH only to be thwarted by petty politics on the scene. But mostly we didn’t touch on these larger affairs, but on our day-to-day existence a few short meters apart. I confessed how I used to gaze at her when she wasn’t noticing, and she related in a kind of embarrassed way that she had thought of me when she was elsewhere, sometimes even when she was with David. I was flattered, of course, but had come to realize that this meant nothing in the usual sense of the word love, that she was merely fascinated by me, by my unique self. “You have to admit that there’s no one else like you.”
“I hope I’ll be the same in a week or two,” I replied, probably a bit too pathetically.
“Oh, Oscar, as far as the crew is concerned, there’s nothing to worry about. Henry is one of the best research neurologists in the country, and he is positive that they can fit your wires back exactly like they are now. It will just be like going to sleep and waking up somewhere else. Something like having surgery, maybe.”
Everyone else had told me the same thing, but it was somehow more reassuring to have it come from the mouth of my most intimate friend in the lab, not to say the world. I felt more relaxed and confident than I had in a long time.
“I only wish I could be there when you are back together again. I’d like to say, ‘See? There was nothing to worry about after all!’”
I wished the same thing, but I didn’t say it. Instead, I asked for another quaff of the Merlot, and she happily obliged.
Finally, after the initial chit-chat was over, and a glass or two of wine had been consumed, she brought out the food, which was still warm in its individual containers. One by one she brought the items around to my backside, and I sniffed and sniffed each one: the roast beef, the gravy, the buttered peas, and finally, the chocolate cake (she apologized for the last having also been “store-bought.” Whatever store it was from, it smelled delicious. After I had had all I wanted, she transferred everything to the two plates, which sat in front of me within arm’s reach, if only I had an arm. We didn’t say much while she ate. She just smiled from time to time and I snort-winked on occasion, which made her smile even more. At the end she finished her glass of wine before excusing herself and slowly making her way to the latte machine. In a few minutes she came back with two hot cups (with the same flower pattern as the plates) of the ambrosia. She gave me another “taste” of the cake and a draft of the latte before we began on the final phase of our wonderful dinner.
She was on her last bite of cake when Ed came in. “Oh, I’m sorry, Oscar. I didn’t know you had company.”
“Ed! Thanks for coming by. I know you have to go in a few seconds, but I’d like you to meet my good friend Robyn Martinelli. Robyn, this is Ed O’Reilly, who is another friend of mine. He takes care of me in the night hours.”
They both said, “Nice to meet you,” at exactly the same moment, and both laughed shyly.
He took a look at the plates and wine and said, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner.” He had a bit of a puzzled look on his face.
“Oscar had some great whiffs of the food,” Robyn explained. “But of course he didn’t actually eat it.”
“Well, I’m sorry for interrupting, anyway. Looks good, too.”
“Hey, there’s plenty. Would you like to share Oscar’s plate?”
“I’ve had all I wanted,” I added. They both chortled a bit.
Ed checked his watch. “Well, I wasn’t going to be eating for a couple of hours, but, hm. I might take a couple of bites, if that’s all right. No wine, though.”
“Of course!” we both replied together, and we all laughed at that silliness. Ed pulled up a desk chair and picked up my fork. “Wow. This is good. I would ask you if you cooked all this, but my mother once told me never to ask a question like that because sometimes the answer is no, and then everyone is embarrassed.”
I answered for her. “Robyn cooked everything but the cake. And she would have done that too, I bet, but I asked her for dinner without giving her much notice.
He smiled appreciatively, I think, though I couldn’t see his face from behind. But I noted Robyn’s reaction to it, and she was smiling that beautiful warm one she comes up with when she’s been complimented. I looked on in envy, yet with considerable happiness, as Ed ate with incredible speed while Robyn made another cup of latte for each of them (though he checked his watch again). I could see him eyeing her with the same appreciation as I had for her shape and movements, and I knew exactly what he was thinking. I didn’t say anything more as they finished their meal, Ed finally departing many minutes after he should have. They didn’t leave together because he had his rounds to consider, but he did help her gather everything up and replace it in the basket. “I hope to see you again sometime soon,” he said as he picked up his flashlight.
“That would be great, but I’m leaving town on Monday for a couple of weeks.”
“Are you busy Sunday?”
“Pretty busy, I’m afraid.”
I could only produce an imaginary smile and shake my nonexistent head.
At last Ed had to go. He again told Robyn how nice it was to meet her, then turned to me. “I’d like to shake hands with you, Oscar, but I’m not sure how. I’ll just give old Leonardo here a hug and wish you godspeed.”
