Human Sister

But the destruction of military androids is just the first step. The ultimate goal of both the United States and China is to destroy all androids everywhere. We have Gatekeeper to guard the door leading to these rooms where Michael lives, but the secret of Michael lives in your mind. To protect Michael, we have to ensure that the doors to your mind are properly protected. Metaphorically speaking, we need a powerful and crafty gatekeeper for your mind.”
    He explained that the police possessed sophisticated lie-detection equipment capable of determining with almost one hundred percent accuracy whether a person was lying. Therefore, I was never to say anything to the police, period, no matter how strenuously they questioned me and no matter how they threatened me. The only exceptions were that I could respond to a greeting with a friendly “Hi” or “Hello” or, if they said, “Nice day, isn’t it?” or “How are you today?” I could answer “Yes” or “Fine.” Beyond those civil responses, I was to make one and only one additional statement: “My name is Sara Jensen and my grandfather’s name is Professor Severn Jensen.”
    He proceeded to tell me that U.S. intelligence services had also developed a secret device, an inducer of painful illusions called an algetor that forced people to tell the truth. He said that since the pain induced by the algetor was not associated with any known physical harm, the pain it caused could be made far more severe than any pain associated with actual physical trauma. The algetor was designed to make the victim believe that terrible things were happening to her consistent with the pain. For example, the victim would be led to believe that her bones were being broken, that she was being disemboweled, or that her skin and muscles were being melted off with boiling oil.
    Did I think I could tolerate such pain to protect Michael?
    My mind raced back to prior experiences of pain. One had occurred a couple of months before my first trip to visit Elio in Amsterdam. Lily and I had been playing near Carlos and his crew while they removed extraneous shoots and leaves from vines when I’d stepped barefoot onto a splinter of glass. I limped home, bloodied and crying, into Grandpa’s arms. He carried me to the kitchen, sat me in a chair, examined the bottom of my foot, then calmly said, “There’s a piece of glass lodged in your foot. I’ll remove it, and then you’ll be fine. But first, I’d like to talk with you a little about strategies for dealing with pain.”
    He looked at me with a silence that indicated I’d have to stop crying before he would proceed. I did, and he began by saying that soon I would be visiting Elio and that I probably would be meeting some of Elio’s friends. He said it had been his experience that boys often feel uncomfortable around girls who cry easily and freely.
    This issue of dealing with pain is not a trifling matter, he said, for as I would discover, life is full of pain. Surely I didn’t think the best strategy for dealing with something so common was to scream and cry and run away from it, did I?
    “No, I don’t, Grandpa,” I answered, wiping away the last trace of wetness from my eyes.
    “Good. Then this is what you do: Don’t try to distance yourself from painful sensations. Go to them. Let them fill you just as you do the minor pains that parade through you during meditation. Become their friend. Accept their heat, their sting, their insistence. They will let you feel them and tame them, and then they will pass, just as they do during meditation.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes, really. Now, I’m going to wash your cut and take out the piece of glass. Either I can eliminate the pain by applying a local anesthetic before I start, or you can begin to learn a new way of dealing with pain. Your choice.”
    I thought quickly of Elio. I certainly did not want him to feel uncomfortable around me, a girl, because I cried too easily.
    “I want to learn.”
    Grandpa smiled. “All right. Go first to your breathing. Anchor yourself there, in your breath. Then let the pain in your foot enter your consciousness. Accept the pain. Know that it’s your friend. It’s only there to help you, to make you aware that your foot should be attended to. Nod when you are ready.”
    I focused on my breathing and accepted the sting in my foot. Then I nodded for him to proceed.
    “Good,” Grandpa said. “Be careful not to jerk while I’m working.”
    At