Human Sister

How wonderful it would be, then, to know, truly know, what was inside the words, gestures, and bright feelings of another.
    “But,” Grandpa said, interrupting my growing excitement, “if you don’t want to have this capability with Michael, we can do quite well without the implant and the braincord.”

    Did Grandpa actually believe that Michael would never learn to override my will, or was that another deception? I haven’t brainjoined with Michael even once since coming here to this watery hideaway, because on the way here I discovered that he could, in fact, control me completely. And not only that—I discovered a secret that he’s been keeping from me, a secret I’m not yet ready to let him know that I know.

    “I can see you’re excited about creating Michael,” Grandpa said after more discussion, “but there is one thing we have to be clear about before we proceed. We must keep all things related to him secret. Only you and I, Grandma, your father, mother, and brothers can ever know. Even Elio must not learn anything about your operation or about Michael.”
    My excitement was instantly replaced by a hollow feeling of dread. Only a few months earlier, when Grandpa and I had visited Elio and Aunt Lynh for the third summer in a row, Elio had more or less forced me to tell him what I knew about his father’s death. I’d felt terrible about divulging the secret I’d promised Grandpa I would keep, and I’d promised myself never again to agree to keep a secret from Elio.
    “Please, Grandpa, I can’t keep secrets from Elio.”
    “If we are to do this, you must.”
    “But I’m sure he won’t tell.”
    Grandpa again looked at me silently. I knew he was probably right about keeping Michael secret and that he would probably win this little battle with me, as he nearly always did. When my gaze finally slid toward the floor, he said, “It is likely that our phones are tapped, so we can’t speak over the phone about any secret. Our use of encryption would only serve to inflame suspicion and increase surveillance. Nor can we speak about this matter among ourselves, even in the kitchen or anywhere else outside of these rooms where we have level 3 security. During the ten-month gestation period, we’ll move most of my study and library into one of the guest bedrooms. We’ll make a second bedroom for you in here. Michael will have to remain in these level 3 security rooms until the political climate improves.”
    “Michael can’t leave here?”
    “Not until it’s safe for him to go outside. But we can make a comfortable world for him here. Grandma has plans for a beautiful hydroponic garden. Michael will have at least one of the three of us with him at all times, and we can import any information he might desire. I doubt he’ll miss what he never experiences. Let me show you our plans for these rooms.”
    I wonder whether Grandpa thought much the same about me: that I wouldn’t miss the parents I saw so little of, that I wouldn’t miss the playmates I didn’t have, and that even if I did miss other children, the desire would be transformed into one for a new brother. I wonder about all this now, but you—you little girl who once was I—you never wondered about such things, did you?
    We moved to Grandpa’s desk chair. I sat on his lap, and while he showed me on a monitor what he and Grandma had planned, I leaned my head back onto his firm, warm chest, where the endearing mustiness of his long-worn clothes reminded me of autumn leaves. The back part of the house in level 3 security was twenty meters wide and fifteen meters deep. At the time of this discussion, it contained Grandpa’s study, library, and research lab; but by the time of Michael’s birth (planned for the following September), Grandpa’s things would be moved out, and two bedrooms, a play and study area, and a hydroponic garden with flowers, shrubs, and miniature trees would be installed.
    Gatekeeper 3 was to be upgraded to include a small monitoring enclosure with heavy doors on each end. To enter the security area through Gatekeeper 3 after the upgrade, I would have to undress, leaving my clothes in a small antechamber in front of Gatekeeper’s door. After an initial optical identification that would allow me to enter the monitoring enclosure through the first door, my skin and hair would be optically examined to ensure that no microdevices were attached to me. Then the second door would open to let me into another small