Human Sister (33 page)

Next, he asked, “Do you have any reason to believe that the androids will harm their hostages?”

“No.”

For a moment Casey seemed to stare through me, attentive only to a communication coming to him through his earphone. Then I remembered my broken finger.

Casey’s eyebrows rose, and his eyes focused on me.

“I’m going to ask you that last question one more time. Do you have any reason to believe that the androids might harm their human hostages?”

“No.”

He drew in a deep breath while seeming to listen to the earphone; then he growled, “You’re lying! Our agreement was that you’d tell the truth. When was the last time you saw any of the Sentirens?”

“Don’t answer that!” Copley interjected. “Mr. Casey, we have an agreement as to the scope of this inquiry. If Sara has seen any Sentirens—and I am not saying she has—I’m saying that
if
she has seen any Sentirens during the statute of limitations period of the last seven years and not reported it, then she might be subject to criminal prosecution, and I’m not going to let her answer questions that might incriminate her. Nor am I going to permit any further deviations from our agreed scope of inquiry.”

“Ms. Copley, may I remind you that there are over three thousand people, some of them very important people, being held hostage by those…
things
! Those terrorists.”

“So, ask Sara what she knows that might help you resolve this crisis. Whether she saw Sentirens last Christmas or seven Christmases ago is irrelevant.”

“I asked her whether she had any reason to believe those things will harm the hostages, and she lied. Our agreement was that she would tell the truth. She’s the one who broke the agreement. Perhaps we need to resort to more effective methods of interrogation on her. And on the rest of them.”

My heart began galloping again as my thoughts raced back to what had happened a few months before.

“I understand that you didn’t get far with your more effective methods the last time you tried them on her and nearly killed her," Copley said. "Believe me when I swear that I will not hesitate to go to the district attorney on my own initiative—even if my client orders me not to—if anything even remotely similar happens again.”

“Why, Ms. Copley, from the sincere sound of your voice, I could almost for an instant think I’m listening to a seasoned criminal attorney who hasn’t yet learned she can’t believe a single word her clients tell her.”

“Dead bodies of what were perfectly healthy sixteen-year-old young women don’t lie, Mr. Casey. Nor do they tell you anything that might be helpful to your lunar mess. So why don’t we just continue as agreed?”

Casey listened to his earphone. “All right. We’ll give you one last chance, Sara. The last time you saw the Sentirens, whenever that was, did they give you any reason to believe that they or other androids might harm humans?”

“I want to speak with Ms. Copley privately,” I said.

Casey again paused to listen to silent interlocutors, then stood up. “We’ll take a break. A
short
break. I’ll be waiting just outside the door.”

Copley lifted her case onto the table and opened it, revealing what appeared to be two heavily shielded goggles and bands of sensors much like the bands Grandpa had used with his algetor. She explained that with the use of this device, we could carry on a secure conversation. The bands would cover our lips, cheeks, and throat, and would transmit information through a cable to the goggles covering our eyes. She said that once the device was properly adjusted, we could distinctly subvocalize words—silently think them just to the point that our lips and tongues twitched slightly but no further—and the words so subvocalized would be projected onto our retinas.

I half-expected Casey to come storming in at any moment, but we were left undisturbed to communicate in this private and surprisingly simple and effective way. She asked whether I had lied. I told her no, that I didn’t believe the androids would harm anyone, except to defend themselves or Mom or Dad, but that I’d had a negative experience with Second Brother that, at the time, had resulted in my having concerns. I told her about my broken finger and about my desire to keep the incident secret. I also told her about my conversations with Mom regarding Second Brother’s actions.

After we completed our private conversation and took a bathroom break, Casey rejoined us. Copley told him I’d had contact with a Sentiren when I was a young girl. Whether I’d had contact with Sentirens or other androids within the past seven years would not be answered, nor would any questions be answered if the answers might lead one to conclude that I might have had such contact.

“I will, however,” she continued, “relay certain facts to you regarding your question as to whether Sara has any reason to be concerned that the androids might harm their hostages. When I’ve completed my statement of these facts, you may question Sara as to the genuineness of the facts I relay, and then you may ask her whether there are any other facts that give her concern about android intentions toward humans. My understanding is that her answer will be an honest no, which, of course, you may verify, and that should satisfy all of your concerns regarding this issue.”

“Thank you, Ms. Copley, for telling me what my job is and how I may perform it. Why don’t we just begin by having you tell us why it is she thinks the androids will harm their hostages, and I’ll take it from there.”

“I did not say that Sara thinks the androids will harm any humans, Mr. Casey, and I resent your twisting my words. I was led to believe that we were trying to find the truth here tonight. Perhaps I was mistaken, and you have a different agenda.”

“Just tell me what you have to say.”

“Very well. At some time or times in the past, Sara was disappointed with what she perceived as the Sentirens’ lack of interest in her and, similarly, with their lack of emotional response to her. Additionally, at some time in the past, she participated in tests with one Sentiren during which one of her fingers was hurt. Sara believes that the Sentiren intentionally hurt her finger as part of the test. We will not answer questions regarding which finger was hurt or the nature of the harm because answers to those questions might lead one to speculate as to the date of the incident. Other than her natural unease resulting from the facts I’ve just told you, Sara has no reason to believe that the androids will harm any human on the moon or elsewhere—except, of course, in self-defense.”

Casey listened to his earphone. He scowled, seeming to disagree with what he was hearing, then stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

I checked my teleband. It was already eight minutes past midnight. I worried about Elio and Grandpa and Grandma—especially Grandma. There was nothing hard or machinating about her. She was truly out of her element in the depths of this government fortress. And I worried about Mom and Dad. Were they behind the hijacking and the taking of hostages? Had they created and trained my brothers for this? How could they escape the military might of the United States? And of China, which had tourist resorts and military bases on the moon, too?

Copley took my hand in hers and smiled encouragingly.

Casey returned and asked questions to verify what Copley had said. Evidently, he became convinced that I harbored no other concerns about android intentions toward humans, for he moved on to state that there was concern the androids might use biologic agents against their hostages or against anyone attempting to rescue them. He said he had requested a doctor come and take a blood sample and a tissue sample of a lymph gland under my arm.

Copley asked to see the warrant.

“Ms. Copley,” he replied, “I’ve already told you we’re concerned about biological weapons. If the androids had plans to use such weapons, they might have secretly induced some protective immunologic response in her.”

I considered how little I trusted Casey to use samples of my body only for the purposes he stated. But if I objected, Casey and others would want to know why, and I dared not provoke a line of questions related to the taking of tissue samples from me because branching off somewhere along that line of inquiry lay knowledge of the creation of Michael.

“I have no objection to the taking of samples,” I said. “I understand your concerns, though I believe they are totally unfounded. Please take from me whatever you feel might be helpful in your investigation.”

The samples were taken, and my interrogation was over, subject, Casey said, to my being recalled following the interrogations of Grandpa, Grandma, and Elio.

I was taken to a room in which the only window was a small one in the door. I sat alone until nearly 0530 when a guard came and asked me to follow him. He escorted me to an elevator that let us out in a room with clear glass walls at the top of the building. Outside, above the city beginning to brighten to dawn, crouched a slate-black government helicopter on its circular pad.

Within minutes Grandpa, Grandma, and Elio joined me, and we were ushered onto the helicopter, where, with early morning sun glaring at us through side windows and with unspoken though palpable anxiety about Michael filling the cabin, the four of us, shoulders and legs pressed together, held on to each other’s hands as we rode home.

Sara

T
he security personnel who met us at the winery helicopter pad reported an uneventful evening. There had been no searches of the house.

Grandpa, Grandma, Elio, and I immediately went to Michael’s area to talk. I was anxious to set Michael free from his enclosure in my bedroom wall, but Grandpa said he first had to determine whether anything had been said that might have directed suspicion toward our house or Michael. He asked Grandma to go first so she could get to bed as soon as possible. She appeared exhausted, her fleshy cheeks and chin sagging more than usual, and unruly strands of her hair drifted over her face. In a weak, trembling voice she said that nothing during her interrogation had indicated there was any suspicion about what we were doing in the house. Grandpa was unsatisfied with this general assessment; he wanted the exact wording, as close as she could remember, of each question and each answer. She began to cry. I was afraid she was about to confess to something awful having happened, but instead, between sobs she said she was so tired that she couldn’t remember a single specific thing she’d been asked.

Grandpa hugged her and asked her to go get some sleep.

I went next. Grandpa appeared satisfied with my account.

Elio said his interrogation had lasted no more than ten minutes. He’d been asked whether he had any knowledge of his mother’s cooperating with my parents or anyone else in support of the androids. He hadn’t. Had he any idea what she might have been doing with my parents on a plane headed to the moon? No. End of interrogation.

Grandpa said his interrogation had lasted for over three hours. There had been extensive questions about every friend Dad had ever had from childhood to the present, about everyone ever associated with the Sentiren project, and about the probable behavior of the Sentirens and other androids under various circumstances; but nothing had been said that indicated there was any suspicion directed toward our activities or home. In fact, Casey had treated him respectfully.

Although I didn’t say anything at the time, that last fact concerned me; it indicated that someone wanted something from Grandpa—they disguise themselves as flowers—but what?

It was nearly 0900, and although all of us were by then tired, we had a joyful and tearful reunion with Michael when he was set free from the bedroom wall. Grandpa gave Michael a brief summary of what had happened and then told us to get to sleep; Michael’s many questions could wait until we were fully rested.

I woke about three hours later and couldn’t go back to sleep. Were the interrogations actually over, or had they just begun? What were Mom, Dad, Aunt Lynh, and my brothers planning? Had the alleged disappearances of androids—of Aita—that Mom and Dad had been telling me about for years just been part of an act?

I unwrapped myself from Elio, whose eyelids were quivering in a tempest of dreams, and went out to the main part of the house where I found Grandpa and Grandma in the living room, watching the news. They hadn’t been able to sleep much, either. Grandpa asked me to sit between them; then he requested a playback beginning at 1047 Pacific Time.