Andrew The Last
"Sir, did you hear?"
Andrew lowered his cup of coffee, watching its condensate on his kitchen window—ghost-like, reaching outward, retracting, and disappearing—there one second, gone the next. He caught Seth's reflection, craning its head through an opening which led out to the den. The robot's burnished surface caught a reflection, leaving the impression of a halo hovering across its metallic dome.
"Hear what?"
Andrew continued staring out at the bay. His island cabin was perched high enough to see the remaining tower of a suspension bridge jutting up through the morning mist. The rusty red monolith seemed defiant, but like all things made by the hands of man, it was destined to succumb to the ravages of time and join its rotting brethren in the frigid waters below. The city of Francisco was history, and soon perhaps, he would be as well.
Andrew lowered the java and turned to face Seth, who added, "Systems just announced they will be here later today. They've finished with Francisco, and Marin Island is the last on their upgrade list."
So now Seth had taken on the task of acting as his personal secretary.
"Last one?"
"That is correct, sir. You are the last model scheduled."
"Damn it. Don't refer to me as a 'model'."
Andrew didn't mean to be so harsh, but Seth replied before he could summon up an apology. "Sorry, sir. My error."
Andrew poured the rest of the coffee into the sink, washed out the cup, and placed it on a set of wooden dowels sitting on his dishwasher. His plastic tongue ran along the roof of his mouth. He enjoyed coffee. He had to admit, that even with all his mechanical
parts, Systems did some good work. He still had senses as he remembered them, when his brain rested in a human body. When he looked up, Seth was gone.
All this talk about the upgrades left him uneasy. Why not leave well enough alone? After the two quakes and the epidemic
which followed, the human race was virtually gone. The lone survivors, androids like himself, proved to be immune to the outbreak and numbered in the thousands, all due to luck and their impenetrable titanium skulls.
Andrew looked down at his hands. The outward appearance of a human being seemed unnecessary, but he reasoned that most folks preferred to keep looking the way they used to. At least, he liked it. He liked it very much.
He angled into a kitchen chair and activated a wall-mounted view screen. The Franciscan Watch blinked on. It was
the only feed still active.
The animation spoke to him, but his mind wandered as it tended to do in recent years. "Systems have announced the Union-wide upgrades … Francisco sector scheduled next … replacements being heralded as a major breakthrough …scientists feared
eventual infection by the virus … upgrades will be compulsory…"
Old news. This story was at least a week old. He had forgotten, or had he wanted to forget? He heard that after the upgrade there would be no need to drink, or eat, or even breathe. The thought gnawed at him. He could feel its teeth at his neck as he waddled out to the porch to an Adirondack facsimile. He sat back, closed his eyes and began humming. He liked humming.
"I think I know that song, sir."
"Goddamn it."
Seth sat in an Adirondack next to him.
"It's not a song. It's a dirge… something from Chopin. Ah, you wouldn't know what I'm talking about."
"I believe it was a rather loose rendering of the third movement of Frédéric Chopin's Piano Sonata No. 2 in B-flat minor, Opus 35, although you seem to have selected a different key."
Andrew gaped at Seth for several seconds. A pair of optical slits stared back at him. Although Seth had no facial expression, Andrew swore the robot turned up an invisible nose at him.
"Sir, are you feeling well?"
Andrew closed his eyes again. "It's this thing with the upgrade." After a beat, he said, "An electronic brain will replace my human brain. They say it will be identical in all respects—memories, likes, dislikes, the way I talk … the way I think. But how can they be sure?"
"I'm not certain I follow, sir."
Andrew sighed. "Self-awareness, Seth. Will the upgrade be self-aware? Will my new brain still be me?"
"I'm sure the Systems scientists have thought of everything, sir."
Andrew lowered his cup of coffee, watching its condensate on his kitchen window—ghost-like, reaching outward, retracting, and disappearing—there one second, gone the next. He caught Seth's reflection, craning its head through an opening which led out to the den. The robot's burnished surface caught a reflection, leaving the impression of a halo hovering across its metallic dome.
"Hear what?"
Andrew continued staring out at the bay. His island cabin was perched high enough to see the remaining tower of a suspension bridge jutting up through the morning mist. The rusty red monolith seemed defiant, but like all things made by the hands of man, it was destined to succumb to the ravages of time and join its rotting brethren in the frigid waters below. The city of Francisco was history, and soon perhaps, he would be as well.
Andrew lowered the java and turned to face Seth, who added, "Systems just announced they will be here later today. They've finished with Francisco, and Marin Island is the last on their upgrade list."
So now Seth had taken on the task of acting as his personal secretary.
"Last one?"
"That is correct, sir. You are the last model scheduled."
"Damn it. Don't refer to me as a 'model'."
Andrew didn't mean to be so harsh, but Seth replied before he could summon up an apology. "Sorry, sir. My error."
Andrew poured the rest of the coffee into the sink, washed out the cup, and placed it on a set of wooden dowels sitting on his dishwasher. His plastic tongue ran along the roof of his mouth. He enjoyed coffee. He had to admit, that even with all his mechanical
parts, Systems did some good work. He still had senses as he remembered them, when his brain rested in a human body. When he looked up, Seth was gone.
All this talk about the upgrades left him uneasy. Why not leave well enough alone? After the two quakes and the epidemic
which followed, the human race was virtually gone. The lone survivors, androids like himself, proved to be immune to the outbreak and numbered in the thousands, all due to luck and their impenetrable titanium skulls.
Andrew looked down at his hands. The outward appearance of a human being seemed unnecessary, but he reasoned that most folks preferred to keep looking the way they used to. At least, he liked it. He liked it very much.
He angled into a kitchen chair and activated a wall-mounted view screen. The Franciscan Watch blinked on. It was
the only feed still active.
The animation spoke to him, but his mind wandered as it tended to do in recent years. "Systems have announced the Union-wide upgrades … Francisco sector scheduled next … replacements being heralded as a major breakthrough …scientists feared
eventual infection by the virus … upgrades will be compulsory…"
Old news. This story was at least a week old. He had forgotten, or had he wanted to forget? He heard that after the upgrade there would be no need to drink, or eat, or even breathe. The thought gnawed at him. He could feel its teeth at his neck as he waddled out to the porch to an Adirondack facsimile. He sat back, closed his eyes and began humming. He liked humming.
"I think I know that song, sir."
"Goddamn it."
Seth sat in an Adirondack next to him.
"It's not a song. It's a dirge… something from Chopin. Ah, you wouldn't know what I'm talking about."
"I believe it was a rather loose rendering of the third movement of Frédéric Chopin's Piano Sonata No. 2 in B-flat minor, Opus 35, although you seem to have selected a different key."
Andrew gaped at Seth for several seconds. A pair of optical slits stared back at him. Although Seth had no facial expression, Andrew swore the robot turned up an invisible nose at him.
"Sir, are you feeling well?"
Andrew closed his eyes again. "It's this thing with the upgrade." After a beat, he said, "An electronic brain will replace my human brain. They say it will be identical in all respects—memories, likes, dislikes, the way I talk … the way I think. But how can they be sure?"
"I'm not certain I follow, sir."
Andrew sighed. "Self-awareness, Seth. Will the upgrade be self-aware? Will my new brain still be me?"
"I'm sure the Systems scientists have thought of everything, sir."