Human Sister

year before had exhausted her and that she hadn’t liked the bitter cold, but I sensed that she knew I was eager to get out and do things on my own.
    Unlike the winter before, this time when I asked to see First Brother, my parents consented. The Alberta Robotics research laboratory where he lived was housed in an underground building only four kilometers from Mom and Dad’s home. The security at the lab, along with its blank white walls and its absence of windows and carpets, made me feel at home.
    Mom and Dad took me straightaway to a room designated B9. When the door to this room opened, I saw First Brother working on what appeared to be an android foot.
    “First Brother!” I exclaimed, running to him. My running halted in front of his blank look and the hand he stuck out to shake.
    “I’m really happy to see you,” I said, though at the moment I also felt a quiver of disappointment, realizing once again that I had failed in my early desire to help him acquire more emotional depth. This sense of failure was quickly followed by an almost painful longing for home, especially for Michael, whose enthusiastic hugs, kisses, and sometimes even tears of joy greeted me whenever I was away from him for as little as a few minutes.
    “Tell me about Michael,” First Brother said, releasing my hand.
    I turned around and looked questioningly at Mom and Dad.
    “It’s okay,” Dad said. “We’re confident of the security here.”
    I looked back at First Brother. “He speaks very well. He laughs and plays and—”
    “Does the braincord work?” First Brother interrupted.
    “Yes. He says he’s conscious of my thoughts and feelings when—”
    “Has Professor Jensen given Michael access to his mathematics module yet?”
    “No. Grandpa thinks it’s better—”
    “Then I presume that Michael hasn’t been given access to his science module.”
    “No. As I was saying—”
    “You may leave now.” First Brother turned back to his work.
    Confused and disheartened, I felt Mom take hold of my arm. “Everyone here is awfully busy right now, as you can see,” she said.
    Before entering an adjacent room, Mom leaned toward me and said, “We have a little surprise for you.”
    The surprise was that I was finally introduced to Second Brother and, even more surprising, to four additional brothers, all of whom looked like First Brother and appeared to be engaged in some thing or things more interesting than I, even while they were being introduced. Mom told me that two of my new brothers were being trained by First Brother and two by Second Brother.
    “When did I get four new brothers?”
    “Each of them came to consciousness about five months ago,” Dad answered.
    “There is a lot for us to do,” Mom said, “and all of your brothers are very helpful.”
    I interpreted, perhaps wrongly, the look on her face to express that I, unlike my brothers, was very unhelpful.
    “What do they do?” I asked.
    “Whatever needs to be done,” Mom answered.
    “Oh.”
    “Come, we’ll show you our office,” Dad said.
    “But I’d like to see what my brothers do. I’d like to be with them awhile.”
    “Enough for one day,” Mom said, turning me by my shoulders back toward the door.
    “Good-bye,” I said. “I’m so happy to have met all of you.”
    None of them looked up or said good-bye.
    Once we were in Mom and Dad’s office—bare white walls, two desks, two computer monitors, and four chairs—they told me about the new Four Seasons Hotel they’d stay at while attending the Space Medical Sciences Conference (they went to this conference on the moon nearly every year), and they talked in general terms about the medical robots they and my brothers were working on. While they talked, a question began forming in my mind, then made itself heard: “Why are you creating more androids? What can they do that people can’t do with the help of machines?”
    “You mean, how dare we take a bite out of the apple?” Mom had that look that meant I’d just been naughty.
    “No,” Dad said, turning toward her and placing his hand on her arm. “Sara just wants to know”—he paused, then glanced at me—“what we’ve been doing all these years that’s so important it has largely kept us out of her life.”
    Suddenly, coming as a complete surprise to me, I began crying. They both came and hugged me, holding me quietly, as Grandpa always did, until I’d cried out my feelings.
    Mom produced a tissue. I dried my eyes and