WetWeb (21 page)

Grey followed the outline of the terrain with his gaze.  Looking up onto the ridge, across the divide
,
and then onto the top of the nearby rocky outcropping.  Up on the rocks, Grey could see wind stirred dust devils that swirled and twisted into thin columns of sand. The dust devils danced along the rocks, spiraling upwards towards the circling birds.

What is walking among us?  What cooks our meals and cleans our houses?  What cares for our children?  What strange creatures are these?  What new race is born?”

-Hans Hoobler

The door with the thick glass window swung open and a disinterested guard escorted Anand into the interview room.  Franklin was surprised by the transformation.  He had not seen Anand for two days but in that time, Anand had lost some considerable weight.  His skin looked thin and moist across his face.  His casual confidence was gone.  He looked hunted, he looked scared.

Franklin half rose uncomfortably from his seat, his thigh muscles struggling to support his weight, he thought he should help Anand on his way to the steel chair
,
but then extinguished that thought because he realized that Anand’s masculine pride would be offended.  And so, Franklin relaxed his straining thigh muscles and resettled his bulk back into the steel chair.  Anand shuffled to the table. His ankles were shackled together
,
and a chain connected his ankles to his wrists which were similarly hand-cuffed together.

Franklin watched Anand settle into the steel chair opposite
from him,
and felt hot shame and pity burning behind his eyes.  Franklin dared not speak any words of succor.  Any mention of his pitiful state or any words of encourag
ement may offend this proud man
s dignity.  Franklin attempted to swallow his reaction as he looked across the table and saw black circles under Anand’s brown eyes.  Anand’s shrunken cheeks were stubbled with white whiskers.

Franklin waited quietly, biting his tongue.  Presently
,
Anand gathered his strength and settled back into the steel chair.  He crossed his legs and assumed a reasonable imitation of the man Franklin had left two days ago.

Anand forced a smile exposing uneven teeth and said, “They have set my execution date
,
did they tell you?”

Franklin responded quietly, “I had not heard.”

“Yes,” Anand continued, “Tonight at midnight I will leave this world that I have offended and I will find my way into the next world that waits for me.”

“I am sorry,” Franklin said, “I had not heard.”

“Al McKnight and I will go at the same
time,” Anand responded,
“ We
will be together again
at
the
very end.” 

Franklin was unsure if this conversation was part of the biography.  Uncomfortably, gingerly, he picked up his pen and began making notes.

Anand continued, “
I have found a kind of peace with the idea.  Like Socrates before me, I will die by a poison administered by the state which I attempted to serve.”

Franklin felt small
.
H
is adventures of the last few days, his efforts to ‘see the real world’ now seemed insignificant in the face of this news.  Anand was a great man.  A man who had changed the world
,
and now his life would reach an ignoble end. 
Without dignity, without drama, without recognition, without friends, without family, without Sahdna Singh.
  Franklin realized that he alone was aware of this moment in history.  Franklin himself would chronicle the end of an era.

Within less than fifteen hours Anand Ramasubramanian, architect of the WetWeb, would slip away from this earth
.  They would leave
as cleanly and quietly as the poison that would slip into
their
veins; as if the poison itself was a negative life force, an antidote for life.

Franklin imagined the Executioner inserting a giant syringe at the top of Anand’s head
,
and as the executioner pushed down on the plunger sparkling life would stream from Anand’s fingers and toes.  As the Executioner continued to push, dark poison would descend down through Anand rendering him lifeless from the top down.  First his face would turn grey, then his torso, then his arms and thighs, then his legs
,
and then at last
,
he would be gone.

The quiet of the room closed around them.  The scratching of the pen as Franklin’s fanciful imaginings of the death scene of Anand filled the room until it was done.  When Franklin finished writing, it was quiet.  Uncomfortably quiet.  This was no longer an interview.  Franklin was now part of history.

“I took a walk,” Franklin offered.

Anand was listening, he looked up
.

“A walk,” Anand repeated.

“Yes,” Franklin continued, “I thought about what you said that I needed to see the world around me; that the WetWeb touches me and everyone around me.  I decided to see for myself, so I took a walk.”

Anand grimaced when he smiled.  He seemed like a boxer who had lost the fight, but despite the pain, was a good sport at the post fight interview.  He was ready to stand up for the media.

“What did you see?” Anand asked.

“I went for a walk at night, into a new neighborhood, somewhere I have never been before.” Franklin explained, “I found a bar, and met people who are interested in old style books.  The
y
never Synap in to the WetWeb,
and
they never utilize Synapse suits to realize experiential features.”

Anand seemed to brighten at this, but he did not say anything.

“They asked me to speak in front of their group.  They asked me to read from my work… I mean our work.  They wanted to hear your story. 
The history of the WetWeb.”

“Did you?” Anand asked
.

“Yes, I did,” Franklin said, “But even before that, before I had a chance to speak before that group, I had begun to see some other things around me that were odd
.  S
o
,
I spoke about these things too.

“What?” Anand pressed, “Tell me, what is odd?” 

Franklin grew more animated and then continued, “I noticed Warmbots are watching me, the Warmbots are following me
,
and this is not all
.  T
here is something not right with people too.  I first noticed it when I went into the Savant Organic Robotics Dealership on L Street.”

“What was it, what happened at Savant?” Anand
said as he
leaned forward with interest. 

The chains on his wrists rattled loudly as he brought his hands up onto the steel table, gesticulating, imploring Franklin to hand over the information.

“Tell me,” he
insisted
.

“I have trouble describing it,” Franklin said.

“It was an odd sense of Déjà vu. But not just that, because I know I had been here before.  I had been there only a few days ago and I recognized the place clearly from when Blanco
,
my old Warmbot
,
died.  No, this was not Déjà vu, it was something different.  It was something in the way the sales-lady talked with me.  It was as if there was something wrong with reality.

“She came up to me holding out her arm, straight at the elbow, and shook my hand.  She introduced herself saying
..
.”

* * * * *

“Hello, I’m Ashley Van Houghten
.
”

“Franklin Tempo,” Franklin
replied
, introducing himself.  “We met two days ago.”

Franklin was a bit annoyed that she did not remember him.  She did not seem so busy with other customers that she should not remember his name or his face.  Also, Molly was standing right behind him.  She must recognize the Warmbot that she sent over to his house.

They were standing in the same place that they had stood two days before, the mock kitchen where Franklin had first seen Molly and
had
been intrigued by the pinkness of its skin.

Molly stood quietly on the linoleum floor.  The Warmbot did not register any recognition of the showroom.  It just stood there, the grill was active, and the optical sensors were watching them.
The collar on Franklins clean white shirt felt tight.  He anticipated the end of this discussion, so he could unbutton the top button and breathe easier.

“You can get the faceplate and grill in different colors on this model.  It comes in Ivory, cream, midnight blue, olive and ebony
,
” Ashley said.

“N-N-no” Franklin stammered
,
  “
I’m not interested in a new faceplate for Molly
.
I would like to return Molly.  I’m bringing it back.”

“I understand it’s a big investment,” Ashley responded, “Go home, and think it over.”

“Right,” Franklin said, “I have been home, and I have thought it over
.
I do not want this Warmbot and now I am bringing it back.”

Ashley stared at him blankly. Franklin wondered if he was the first person who ever tried to return a Warmbot to the Savant Organic Robotics dealership.  Based on her blank stare, Franklin had the impression that this had never happened before.  

Presently Ashley said,
“It’s a beautiful model
,
we do not always get organics of this quality.  Look how pink the skin is.”

“I can see that it is a beautiful model,” Franklin said, “but
it is
not for me.  I don’t want this Warmbot, I don’t want any Warmbot.”

Again
,
Ashley looked blankly at him.  Franklin began to feel uncomfortable.  The collar around his neck felt tight and constricting.  This conversation was strange.  She had sent the Warmbot to his house, and now he was bringing it back, what was so hard to understand.  He began to wonder if Ashley Van Houghton was listening to him at all. 

Everything she said seemed to be from a line in a brochure published by the corporation.  Franklin was growing irritated by this conversation
because it
seemed to be going nowhere.  He decided to try a new approach.  He would probe the mystery of how Molly appeared at his house.

“Why did you send it to my house in the first place?
” he asked, “
I did not buy it.”

Again, Franklin was greeted with the blank stare, and then finally, Ashley said,
“My Warmbot died today.”

“What?” Franklin was confused by this response.

Ashley repeated, “My Warmbot died today,” and then added, “You are going to want to see Grif in maintenance.”

Franklin recognized these last sentences as snippets from their first conversation from two days ago.  Now Franklin was no longer irritated; he was intrigued.  How often did his conversations with people around him run on auto-pilot?  Now for the first time, he was aware of it, he wondered how often his day to day dealings with people around him and their conversations were a repeat of previous conversations.  With Dolly, with Titus, were they merely re-stating the same words over and over again?  Franklin’s interest turned to misgiving as he watched the vacant expression on the sale girl’s face.  Was she even there? He wondered, was she aware that Franklin was here in person talking to her.  All of a sudden Franklin got the impression he was having a discussion with a Warmbot, or something similar.  Ashley Van Houghten did not seem capable of original thought.

Franklin ended the encounter saying, “I am going to see Grif in maintenance.”

Ashley said, “Go past the sales desk and follow the hall back to maintenance.” 

She smiled, and when she did she exposed two neat rows of perfectly placed white teeth.

“Ivory,” Franklin thought, as he moved past her.

* * * * *

Anand was smiling as Franklin related the details of his encounter with Ashley Van Houghten at Savant Organic Robotics.  Anand’s teeth were not perfectly placed, nor were they Ivory in color
,
but the smile he received from Anand while he told this story warmed Franklin just the same.  Franklin felt a connection with Anand, and now, during his last hours, Franklin wanted to understand him.  Franklin wanted to know the end of the story that only Anand could tell.  Not for the content feature that would bring him fame
,
or for a retro-pulp feature that would pay his bills.  Franklin was beyond that now.  He had returned Molly the Warmbot back to the dealership, and he was willing to face the wrath of Dolly
.  He did these things so he could
understand more about the reality of his world from Anand
’s
perspective.

“You have done well,” Anand said.

Franklin felt warm pride in his chest and in his face.

“You are beginning to see the world around you,” Anand added.

“The people around me are stuck in repetitive cycles and Warmbots are watching me, I am not imagining these things?” Franklin asked.

“No, you are not imagining,” Anand said reassuringly
,
“But
,
you are not fully comprehending
it
either.  We have much to do today.  Today is our last day.  Today is my last day.  I must tell you the rest of the story.”