Mango Porcupine Chapter 7
He left the apartment before Sapph woke up and he felt inclined to slip into routine again. But a mounting anxiety which he did not understand rumbled throughout his bones. He could not sit still...
He left the apartment before Sapph woke up and he felt inclined to slip into routine again. But a mounting anxiety which he did not understand rumbled throughout his bones. He could not sit still. Whenever he went down one of his usual routines he felt as if he was on a train track, with one coming. He needed to jump, or be crumpled underneath the wheels.
On that note, he decided to take the speedrail downtown straight to Fred rather than message him. He could not think of a way to prompt the visit. The hour it would take to get to the other part of the city would give him time to think of an opening line.
And off he went.
ping!
He had recieved a message from Sapph: “Are you out exercising? Love you!!!”
He replied immediately: “Yes, I’ll be back tonight.”
“Okay thank you for the quick response!”
As he was leaving Westside city the train passed alongside the New World Monument. It was a post-modern four story high statue of a man and a woman, represented in blockish forms. The man represented mankind before A.I., the woman was an A.I. human, representing humankind after A.I. The man had a small piece of his head missing. He held this piece in his hand and was putting it into the woman’s head, where the battery and program would be. The woman had pulled out a rib and was placing it over his heart.
Swaying with the train, Shel remembered discussing this statue with Fred over tea. Fred always took his earl grey tea in the afternoon. He said that’s when he went through his calls, even sales calls. Whatever they were selling he just said: “Yes I want it” and sent them a message with his shipping info and hung up. He said if he did not want the thingamajig he would throw it out. According to Fred, this was quicker than telling them no, or letting them try to sell to him. Once they sent their product they usually just stopped calling.
The speed rail whooshed to a stop and he scurried out with the rush of other people off to indoor pools, or brunches, or other leisure activities. If he remembered correctly it was a short jog down the station’s underground fairway. He tried to think of what he would say as he slipped inbetween the crowds.
I was in the area and couldn’t resist stopping by! No. That was too obvious. Fred was smart and would think that was weird.
What’s up Mr. Ping! It’s Mr. Pong! Are you ready for a rematch? What? Did he really just think that? This is why I take time to think about what I am going to say.
He saw a familiar blue elevator door and took it to the surface. Once on the sidewalk he saw the late morning sun shining off the most prominent dome of Southern Weskinost University. In the days of yore people were educated and trained in ‘professions’ but now it was a sort of “daycare for adults” where one went after highschool. Under mentors’ watchful eyes you developed interests into adulthood and took classes in how to have a relationship with your newly designated iBots. He knew Freds apartment was a block to the right at ‘The Weskin,’ a black brick building with historic gas lamps on the exterior.
It’s me! Long time no see! How did he manage to rhyme something so basic into peak awkwardness? He decided he would stick with a simple Hi! How are you?
There was The Weskin. He walked through the stately wooden doors and to the concierge iBot.
“I’m here to see Fred.”
“Last name?”
“Oh, uh… I don’t have his last name but his name should have ‘The Fourteenth’ in it.”
“Oh Fred the Fourteenth, certainly sir. It is room 235.”
“Oh, thank you.”
“Yes, you enjoy sir.” The iBot smiled as if he had just served him a five star meal.
Creepy…maybe management likes having fun.
He walked down the soft red carpet of the second floor. 227, 228, 229, and he turned a corner. Down the hall all the doors were closed but one. A shaft of sunlight was hitting a dust cloud that floated out of the room. It was stirred up by a small cleanerbot, vacuuming back and forth.
230, 231, 232, 233, 234 and it looks like 235 was the one being cleaned. He leaned around the doorway, trying not to stomp on the cleanerbot. He knocked on the open door. The foyer was unusually clean, empty of the usual coat rack or umbrella holder. All of the small walls were covered with framed items and… plaques.
There was no answer. The cleanerbot bumped his shin.
“Ow!”
“Deepest condolences sir.” The cleanerbot yelped in a digital voice. It stopped moving completely. Pensively, he stepped inside, “Hello?” He listened… complete silence. He jumped as the cleanerbot started up again suctioning with a high-pitched whine.
One framed item on the wall caught his eye: five military medals. Two were purple hearts. He didn’t know what the rest were.
The plaque read: “Frederick Wilfred Brian Winshire The Fourteenth’s ancestor Frederick Wilfred Brian Winshire the Sixth was a five star general in the United States Army in 2235 during the iBot Riot War. Legislation was being introduced to allow the creation and purchase of iBots by humans and androids alike. There were movements of civil unrest all across the country in protest of this legislation. They started out as riots that began threatening locals in cities but once they grew to destroy infrastructure and government buildings Frederick VI was commanded to quell the violence. Over a period of three weeks he mobilized the armed forces and the agitators were killed or captured and sent to prisons or labor camps, most with life sentences. Frederick VI was made a five star general on the day the president declared the war over. He was instrumental in removing the cancer of hate and bigotry of the anti-iBotters and because of this is considered one of the great heros of this nation’s history. Because of his good work, the new way of life was allowed to flourish into what we have today. These are Frederick XIV’s most cherished mementos.”
Shel turned to the door leading to the livingroom. He opened it. Inside the floors were removed of everything but glass cases on pedestals against the wall, no furniture, no plants. Every inch of the walls were covered with more framed items. Once the initial shock of this wore off he took a step inside. “Hello…?”
“Hello!” a cheery voice said.
“What in the shit…!”
To his right was Fred’s iBot… Ruth? Reba? Rebecca? She had a classic black hairdo and was wearing a maids outfit. Come to think of it he always remembered her wearing a maids outfit.
“Oh my! That is foul language Shel.”
He forgot Fred had programmed her to be ‘innocent.’ “I’m sorry, you uh… scared me. Good to see you again.”
“Yes. Good to see you too. This way.”
She abruptly began walking and he followed her. Just as suddenly she stopped against the opposite wall.
In another frame was Freds ping pong paddle, inscribed with a FWBWXIV.
“This is Fred’s most prized possession, his ping pong paddle. The game of Ping Pong was innovated by him to such a degree that he has an entry in the sports section of The Book of World Records. It reads: “The sport of ping pong was dying out due to lack of physical activity in the 22nd century. Frederick Wilfred Brian Wilshire XIV has revived many of the ping pong tricks of the late twenty-first century. although he has yet to come up with any of his own. He is also an avid learner and pracitioner of the many different styles of play as well, although he has not invented any of his own. It is believed that the last ping pong master of the late twentieth century played up to 19,330 hours of ping pong alone as he was the last professional. Due to the numerous recording devices we have now, Fred has surpassed this and now holds the record for most logged hours playing ping pong alone.”
“Rebecca are you just reading off the plaque?”
“My name is Reba. I have memorized it.”
“Okaaaay, I’m just here to see Fred. Is he around?”
“Oh yes, I can take you to see Fred.”
“Thank you.” He said uneasily.
They walked into the next room and Reba put her hand on a pedestal full of silverware. Rather, rubber and plastic baby silverware. And a bib.
“These are Fred’s eating utensils from his childhood. His favorite one is the teal one in the midd-“
“Reba, I am just here to see Fred.”
“Okay he is just in the study.”
She led him to the next room. He stopped short in his tracks.
In the center of the room, on the biggest wooden pedestal of them all, was a pristine glass case. Inside lay Fred; asleep. He took a step closer; he was dead.
“Oh my God. What in the world is going on?”
“Would you like me to read you the inscription?”
“No, God no. I’ll read it.”
There was a stone set inside the wooden pedestal which read:
Frederick Wilfred Brian Winshire XIV
November 28th, 2400 - November 27th, 2437
Fred was the third last human alive in the North and South American system. He is survived by his sister.
Android friendships: 1,317
Human friendships: 0
Ping Pong Revivor
“Don’t blink, or you might miss the ping pong ball.”
“No human friendships! What an awful quote.”
“I chose it for him. He said it nearly everyday.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry Reba. You must be very sad.” Shel wrapped his arm around her in a side hug.
“No. Fred programmed me to never feel sad.”
“Ah, I… see.” He slowly let go.
“But I am very very scared. Fred let me be scared. He liked to comfort me during lightning storms. Or when the neighbor’s mastiff would bark. But now he can’t comfort me.”
“I see, I’m sorry. This time must be very… scary, with Fred gone.”
“No. I always knew Fred would die someday. I had just hoped it wouldn’t be so young. I am scared because this morning I will be decommissioned.”
“You will what?”
Shel heard a beeping sound come from another room and then a low humming sound. He rushed in and saw a… thing. It was a clear plastic sort of case taller than a human and canted back. Inside was a sort of gurney with metallic clamps. It was moving across the ground. It roved past Shel into the room with the silverware and then turned right towards the room with Reba. It almost hit the door frame but then beeped and corrected course.
He followed it into Freds room as it positioned itself in a corner facing Fred. The plastic case split cleanly down the middle and opened. Out flowed steam, low over the floor, grasping at the corners of the room.
Reba walked past him and placed herself on the gurney. The metallic clamps closed around her limbs, holding her in place.
“Good bye Shel.”
“Good bye…” this situation was so confusing he literally just forgot her name again, “…person.”
“I am not a person. I have no-“
She deactivated and the plastic coffin sealed around her.