"So you are specialised
in anthropomorphised computers?" Albert enquired of the young man standing
in front of him.
"Yep. Imagine it a little bit like
Terminator. But obviously with a little less 'hasta la vista baby'. We at
RoMan, or to be precise, Robot Humanoid Technology, have one dream - we want to
create the perfect partner robot, one which could be used by anyone and
everyone. It will revolutionise humanity just like the Internet did. Think
about all the new possibilities. Let me give you an example, mate. Let's say
your mum died. But, before she had passed away we were able to manufacture a
replica of her. Then, whilst Mother is pushing up the daisies, you could meet
with her new simulated self and have a chat about the past, a chance to ask all
those burning questions you never got to whilst she was alive. No missed
chances, never again. No regrets or remorse. Believe me, there's a whole market
for it."
"Very interesting, Dr.
Phoenix. Do you have a card for me?"
His wife had lost her fight
against cancer four months ago and yet here Albert was standing in their dining
room, waiting for Gertrude’s return. He stared at the collection of Meissen
porcelain on the cabinet in front of him. His finger tips sliding over the
mahogany, smiling when he found himself writing Gerti in the dust, drawing a
heart around her name. He stared at it for a moment, then swept it away in a
single movement, annoyed that the cabinet looked even untidier now than it had
before.
He gazed upon the small
figurine of the Dancing Harlequin he had brought back for her from one of his
myriad business trips to make up for their lost time together. His appeasement
politics often failed and Gertrude would ignore him for hours until he could
finally smell the sweetest scent of cinnamon wafting in from the back of the
house. And he would know that his Gerti was in the kitchen making his
next-to-favourite dish, Moroccan tagine, cutting the ingredients harshly. Later
they would sit opposite each other on the dining table and he would toast to
their love. And Gerti would offer him a forgiving smile.
Albert sighed, looked at the
watch, another thirty minutes to go. He strolled to the mirror, just to check
if his tie was still done up neatly. For a moment he fiddled with the double
Windsor, then reached out to tuck back a stubborn grey strand of hair. He gave
his reflection an encouraging grin but he couldn't help it, he still felt tense
just like the night before he had married Gertrude.
Thirty-seven years ago they
had met in a student bar. Small and crowded; the music always too loud for any
long or meaningful discussion. Amos, his friend, had introduced them to each
other: "Albert, you have met Gertrude before, haven't you?"
Amos and Gertrude were from
the same village. She was charming, spoke of her studies – French and
Anthropology – did he know who Gautier was? Albert shook his head; he had been
dismissive of the subject. At this point in his life, Albert's research was
based around the topic of body topography as well as the less audacious subject
of economics. But of course the next day he would go into a second hand book
shop and look for a copy of Gautier's novel. Maybe she would like to “come along
and make some other recommendations?"
Although Albert went home
alone that night, he still felt Gertrude's presence around him: Her black hair
cropped back in that pixie style, her eyes green as kelp. When she laughed
everyone would turn their head. Her skirt was short, her legs seemed endless.
How in God's name could he not fall for a girl like that?
Two months after that night
they were married. A year later Gertrude was pregnant. Suddenly baby magazines
were piling up in their apartment flat and Gerti asked Albert what he thought
in regards to breast feeding. He needed to admit that he hadn’t given it much
thought. Scrupulous, Gerti was preparing herself for her new role. Finding
cheap baby clothes and debating with her friends if home birth was an option.
There was no time for Gerti to go back to her courses at university. Meanwhile
Albert worked hard for his new life, he graduated cum laude in economics, a
very different career ahead of him.
"Why did you marry Mum,
anyway?" their son Amos had asked him once while they were sitting at a
restaurant table. Presumably Gertrude had phoned him and complained about
Albert's overtime and business trips again? By that point Amos was already a
grown man and Gerti and Albert had had the house to themselves for some time.
Albert was amazed that he seemed to know more about his secretary – Linda, 38,
a good size 8, two twin daughters and nails always polished in mint green -
than about Amos' life, a great mystery Albert had given up on solving when Amos
had become a teenager.
"Why?" Albert responded defensively
"I think it is pretty obvious that we were in love." Albert still
couldn't get used to the fact that Amos had his own opinion. It irritated him
just like an alarm that was never turned off, snoozing in the background,
perpetual torture.
"That is exactly the
thing, Dad, you are talking about it in the past. You just said 'we were in love'."
"Amos, I still love
Gerti. A relationship just changes over time. I mean, I can still remember the
first night we met in a bar. She looked stunning, like Twiggy with black hair.
It was a mutual friend, Amos, who introduced your mother and I to each other.
But you know this, don't you?"
"Yes, Dad. I know the
story. That's why I ended up with this stupid name."
"What don't you like
about your name?"
Amos didn't look as though
he wanted to talk about aesthetic differences with his father; rather, he
insisted on answers to his questions: "But Dad, really, why did you never
get a divorce?"
Albert couldn't really say
why. Of course, he had thought about it during the last year or so. Things had changed;
he had spent most of his time out of the house, attention shifting to other
subjects, other people, other women. There were moments he thought Gerti would
be better off without him.
Her 52nd birthday came to
his mind. He had arrived home late this day, his tie loosened as he had just
collected the birthday present Linda had bought for Gerti. The gift was neatly wrapped
in plain paper, just a golden bow, already slightly unravelled. When he entered
the house, he found Gerti sitting in front of the TV, two wine glasses resting
on the living room table.
"Darling, love, happy
birthday" Albert said bowing down to kiss her cheeks.
"You are late",
Gerti responded, focusing on the TV.
"I know. I know. And I
am terribly sorry I kept you waiting my love. But, I could only collect your
birthday present today, after work, I literally had no time before. And then on
my way back, of course, the road was blocked."
"The road was
blocked?" a smile leapt across her face.
"Yes, a car accident. I
couldn't see much when I passed, just two cars, but there were three ambulances
and some policemen. But please, let's not talk about it. It's your birthday, we
should celebrate. I see you already opened the red wine?"
"Yes, I did. I assumed
somehow you would come home early and we could go out for a nice meal. But now?
I think I'm not in the mood for it anymore."
"Stop it silly. We can
still go out. It's only half past eight. Here, I know what will cheer you up,
your present." Albert said passing the gift into Gerti's lap.
Gerti looked at it for a
moment, as if Albert had passed a slug over to her. Then her fingers carefully
took off the bow and peeled the tape away.
"Nice" a fixed
smile appeared on Gerti's face as she unfolded a colourful scarf.
"It took me forever to
figure out what you might like. It’s pure silk. The colours will really show
when you wear your dark magc. And it is from Gaultier, I remembered you telling
me that you liked him."
"Gautier. The author Gautier, Albert. I told you when we first met
and the next day we browsed the second hand book shops but we couldn't find anything
by him, so you picked up Sartre."
"Oh, Gerti. Really? I
am terribly sorry. I thought... I really did think..."
"It's okay
Albert." Gerti blinked. "I already have everything from Gautier
anyway and the colours are beautiful. Pure silk you said?", Gerti stood up
and gave Albert a kiss on his mouth. "Would you like something to eat? I’m
hungry."
That was his Gerti. She was
his paddle steamer; slightly outdated but doing her job quite gracefully. She
never complained when he was out the whole day and came back late at night; she
would already be tucked away under the sheets in bed, facing the wall. He would
guiltily slide in next to her, waiting for questions that never came whilst he
stared into the darkness.
She was the one he had
decided to explore life with. He admired the fact that she had given up nearly
everything to follow him and help him to become a successful investor. Albert
had the feeling he needed to pay the price for his choices and he was willing
to do so because he had gotten out of his adventure nearly everything he had
wanted. It seemed unfair to him to leave someone like Gerti behind. Gerti never
said anything to him, and in the end Albert thought there were always other
options. After a long pause he eventually said: "Amos, I really do love
her. Only in a different way now."
Over time, new arrangements
were put in place by Gerti and Albert and both of them adjusted them carefully
to their needs, which to some extent allowed them to live happily ever after.
Or at least until Gerti had been diagnosed with cancer.
The cancer contaminated
Albert as well. He saw the life shrinking away from her, saw her crying,
exposing her in a way that nakedness never could. And now, at 63 years old,
Albert knew he needed to grow once more. He stopped going to work and started
to spend his time with Gertrude.
One afternoon both sat
together in their winter garden. Gerti wrapped up in a quilt, her breathing
heavy, rattling but constant, she had run out of tears weeks ago.
In the late fall sun, withered trees were
fading and a lost squirrel clambered from branch to branch.
“Albert”, she asked “are you
afraid of dying?”
“I don’t want to think about
it” Albert answered. His eyes following the squirrel.
“When I was a kid…” Gerti prolonged, reaching
for Albert’s hand “death didn’t exist. But suddenly, when I turned thirteen
people started to disappear. First I noticed that Frank, a friend of my
parents, wasn’t coming around anymore. My parents said he died of leukaemia. I
had no idea what this meant, I was still innocent. Then a friend of mine hanged
himself. I was…” she was searching for Albert’s eyes, gasping for air, “I mean,
from that day I felt death growing inside me. I tried to find comfort in books.
I remember I read that one Greek philosopher said something along the lines of
'death wasn't anything to bother you until you are in a coffin' but he was
wrong. People still live in our memory. Albert, I am afraid of dying. I feel
like I didn’t achieve anything. That sounds stupid, doesn’t it? I mean, I
wanted to become an astronaut, well I certainly didn’t know that I was afraid
of flying at that point, but I could have become an explorer of the Tristes
Tropiques, hunting rare beetles. And now?”
“I love you, Gerti” was all
Albert could answer. He felt it. It was a different feeling than the one he had
had years before, neither adventurous nor breathtaking. No, this feeling was
deep and as old as the oceans. Staring at the floor, ashamed of his tears, Albert
felt how the thoughts were nagging at him, he too was afraid of dying. Had he
reached his full potential? And was potential measurable through success? Her
hand resting in his, Albert suddenly knew what he needed to do.
And now just a couple of
minutes were left until he would see Gerti again. Maybe he could put on some
music? All of a sudden he wasn't so sure what her favourite song had been.
"Well, I guess she liked Haydn's symphony No. 94 as much as I do" he
mumbled to himself whilst sliding the vinyl out of its sleeve. Albert had just
set the needle down on the middle of the record – unaffected if it played from
the beginning or not - when the doorbell rang, redeeming him from any guilt.
Straightening his spine and making another hasty gesture towards his tie,
Albert head towards the door.
He heard Phoenix before he saw
him.
"Hi, Mr Gage. Damn hot
outside, I’ve been sweating waterfalls in that car. Air con is broken. Have you
slept well? I didn’t catch a wink. I have her in the back of the van. Should I
get her out for you? She looks absolutely fantastic, the wig we found, just
like your lady..." Phoenix had chattered before Albert had finished
opening the door.
"Good afternoon, Dr.
Phoenix," Albert responded. The first time he had met Phoenix was at a
science fair. Albert immediately recognised the idea RoMan Technology had
presented as a brave concept for the future, though he hadn't considered
becoming a test pilot for the project when he had taken the business card from
the doctor. But with Gerti having but a few months to live, the clock had been
ticking. The only issue he had with Phoenix was his informal manner, which saw
the doctor present himself as more of a washed up Californian beach boy than
the leading bio-technician he was. He reminded Albert of a hyperactive Jack
Russell, never bored of chasing a ball and always lacking the elegance of a
Dalmatian.
"Oh... of course she
isn't here with you. Silly me, what had I thought? Should I come with you and
help her out of the car?"
"Ah, don't worry, mate,
it isn't necessary. Why don't you just take a seat in your lounge and I will
bring her in? Gertrude and I sat in there whilst I recorded her gestures and
memories. I know the way just fine. Damn, I cannot wait to show her features to
you, you really must see what this Gerti-bot can do." And with that Trevor
Phoenix was tip tapping off to the van.
As there was nothing for him
to do, Albert made his way back into the house. But there was no way on Earth
he could sit down now. This moment was the prelude to a second chance; a chance
to correct all of the disharmony married life had brought him the first time
around, and one which had led him to this, to the grand finale.
"Holy crap..."
Haydn couldn't have timed it better; Albert heard Phoenix's swearing
intermingle with the very point of Hayden's drum stroke. He winced.
"Everything okay, Dr. Phoenix?" Albert shouted, already on his feet,
hurtling towards the main entrance.
Albert stopped. On the floor
he saw a torso attached to a familiar face. A wig lay just next to it. And
there was a voice, one he could not fail to recognise; the softness of Gerti's
vowels over and over again: "I am able to converse with you but I am
having a bit of a bad software day today. I am able to converse with you
but..."
Loose wires dangled where
the rest of Gerti should have been, Dr. Phoenix was on his knees, frantically
poking and prodding at bits of the body.
"Fuck knows what happened.
I must’ve slipped. Sorry. I'm really sorry about it. But I can fix it, I mean
fix her, just a second. No worries, she will be alright." Albert heard
Phoenix's panic stricken utterances from the depth of the floor.
"She?" Albert
echoed, and for the first time he understood there was no Gerti. There was just
a robot – a mechanical simulacrum. He felt embarrassed, had he really thought
there were second chances? In front of him lay the testimony of a failed
experiment: a nest of wires, fake skin and stolen memories. He needed a drink.
Rather than embracing Gerti he kissed a bottle of scotch.
Four weeks passed. Albert was again waiting in the living
room, this time far more casually dressed. A radio hummed in the background as
Albert awaited the arrival of a new and improved Gerti; he had called Phoenix a
couple of times to ask about the process, to make sure every measure had been
taken to fulfil his satisfaction. He absorbed articles about ‘mind uploading’
and made himself familiar with h+, which apparently was short for
transhumanism. And some thoughts appeared in Albert for the very first time as
he delved into the subject. He felt how Gertrude's death had paralysed him, how
only the wish to get her back and make things right had dominated. But now,
finally, he could envision the future.
Before he would
die, he could simply upload his mind to his robotic doppelganger as Gerti had
done. He recalled how Dr. Phoenix had continuously visited their house over
many weeks, carrying not much more than a computer pad and an mp3 player, and
conducted intensive interviews with Gertrude. How they had taken the car, when
Gerti's condition allowed it, to go to some meaningful places and how they had
sat together, sifting through photo albums and how all too often Albert had
heard Gertrude crying. Albert quickly suppressed the memory. Rather, he
imagined how Gerti and he would become the celebrity human+ couple, role models
for a future generation. Eventually Dr. Phoenix would get the recognition in
his field and would be idolised by the masses for bringing immortality to their
doorstep.
Gerti and Albert wouldn't even need to stay in an old
body, they could return in a more youthful form, there would be no more crowded
waiting rooms and late appointments at the doctors, all they would need was a good
humanoid technician and some oil. And another thought shot through his
neurotransmitters; when robot life seemed so much better, wasn't now the time
to get rid of his body shell? For a short moment Albert shivered and he decided
to get a drink, just in case. He had learned his lesson.
But before he could pour himself a glass of scotch, he
was interrupted by the doorbell.
“I am on my way”, Albert yelled, sliding into his
slippers. As he opened the door, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Hello Albert, am I allowed to come in?” Gerti enquired.
“Of course”, Albert mumbled looking up and down at Gerti
as though he was seeing the birth of Venus. He soaked in every detail, waves of
excitement rippled through his body. He regretted not putting on a suit and for
a short moment he felt unworthy of her presence. Curiosity quickly replaced his
inadequacies and he tried to spot differences between the electronic replica and
the real Gerti. But not even an out of place wrinkle indicated that this was a
Gerti-bot and not his wife.
She wore a touch of make-up, a crème costume and one of
those Grace Kelly bags around her arm. A hat hid her hair and dark round sunglasses
obscured her eyes. Phoenix stood a couple of steps behind her, waving at
Albert, pointing first at Gerti and then giving him a thumbs up and a wide
grin. Albert deliberately focused on Gerti, stepping aside to let her return
home.
She entered; her head held up high and made her way to
the living room. Albert could do nothing else but marvel at her backside. Her
silhouette was an invitation to project his sexual desire and he wondered if
her flesh would feel as soft as a human’s after the upgrade?
“You alright mate? A little bit speechless, eh? Yep, my
team and I did a pretty good job on this one. Gerti has been splendid company -
she wanted me to stop for a cocktail. That’s your new lady” Phoenix slapped
Albert firmly on his back.
“Trevor, you shouldn’t speak in such a way about a lady”
Gerti said, smiling at Phoenix as if she was his mother.
“Well, uhm, would
you like a drink then, Gerti?” Albert anxiously interjected, already pacing towards
the mini bar.
“Gin and Tonic with three ice, please”, came the retort.
“I’ll take a lager” Phoenix interposed.
Before Albert could answer, the phone began to ring.
“I’ll get it!” Gertrude exclaimed, vanishing through the
door into the next room.
“Most likely it will be Amos” Albert spoke to Phoenix
while passing the beer. “Presumably he wants to make sure that I am alright. It
will be quite a surprise for him to hear Gerti. He thought I had lost my mind
when I told him about RoMan Tech.”
“Yeah, people always try to tell me that. We really outdid
ourselves this time though. I mean Gerti is the hottest Bot we’ve ever made…”
“She does look unbelievably good. She seems to have
gained her old strength back. She is irresistible, just like …” replied Albert.
The last part of the sentence covered up by a loud crashing sound and Gertrude
storming through the door.
“Alright Mrs Gage?” Phoenix asked sheepishly.
“No, I am not alright”, Gerti hissed, “Albert, do you
know who was on the phone?” her eyes piercing through Albert who was offering a
Gin and Tonic for her to take.
“I thought it might have been Amos?” Albert responded shyly.
“No, it wasn’t Amos. It was Linda. Your secretary.”
“Oh Linda. What did she want? I haven’t heard of her
since…”
“You know what? Leave it Albert, leave it before I
completely lose myself. I’ve fucking had it with you and your women. All
through our marriage I sat here, waiting for you, the TV on, ironing your
shirts, whilst you were off sleeping with your secretary!” Gerti thundered and
Venus emerged as a Valkyrie.
“But Gerti, I…”
“But Gerti what? What do you want to tell me now? That
you love me? That you ended it with her ages ago?”
“I did. Please, let me explain…”
“No, you listen to me now. I am sick of your lies. I am
sick of you. Of your taking advantage of me for all these years. I adored you,
I didn’t really see what was happening. It was so easy, wasn’t it? All that
time, someone at home, a cleaning lady and babysitter in one. All she needed
were nice little presents to pay her off, to keep her quiet. I couldn’t leave.
Not with Amos. A son needs his father. But where was this father when he was taking
his first steps? Who read good night stories to him while someone was doing ‘overtime’?
And later, when Amos left the house, I was too scared, too old to start all
over again. Where should I have gone? I had no income, no friends anymore. They
got sick of me being so blind to you and your manipulative ways. I was a fool
and I hated my life. But you simply didn’t care. And all I wished for was
someone who cared.”
“But I was there for you when you got ill….”
“Yes, and you brought me back. But don’t think I don’t
know your real motives. You are a coward. You are a lazy, selfish old man that
suddenly realised what he would lose, had already lost, too scared to live on
his own.”
Albert stayed quiet. Gerti had spat the last words out
and he felt how they had covered him in shame. What could he say?
“But I tried to be good” he said in the silence. Suddenly
he felt himself smash into smithereens. Was this him? The coward? The wretch?
“But trying is not enough. Not anymore Albert. You had
your chances. I am going.”
“But where? You don’t have any money…”
“I can make plenty writing my biography. Dr. Phoenix will
help me.“
In mentioning the doctor Albert saw a smirk growing on Phoenix’s
face.
“Naturally I will help you Gerti. Chin chin”, he said,
smiling as though nothing has happened and lifting his bottle to his puckered
lips. It suddenly occurred to Albert that Phoenix was responsible for this
mess. Maybe he had programmed her wrong?
“Then let’s go. I need a proper cocktail now, and I also want
to find out about courses in anthropology.” Gerti strode out of the room, no
smile upon her face, the cool flair of a mannequin.
“Wait, Gerti, please wait. Let me explain.
Really…Linda…I”, but she had gone.
Trevor Phoenix followed Gertrude Gage, and inquiring of
Albert “Where should I put the bottle mate? Any preferences?” followed by “I’m
sorry it didn’t turn out as expected but you know how it is. You need to take
it easy. And maybe I, I mean, if you want to become a robot….”
“No” was all Albert could respond.
He heard the door closing. Suddenly the room was terribly
quite. He couldn’t stand the silence bawling out his shame.
Albert knocked back the drink. He went to the phone, removed
it from the hook, started dialing and heard Linda’s voice “Hello”.
He cleared his throat. Words began to fall out of his
mouth, like tears.
(4, 365 words)
