Human Sister

consolidate power in themselves.”
    “I don’t care what you say, Grandpa—”
    “Do you understand?”
    “Yes, I understand what you’re saying. But Grandpa respects androids. He’s strongly against government policy about them. How can you imply he’s a murderer of androids and I should be proud to lie to him?”
    “You haven’t met his friends.”
    “Has Second Brother hurt anyone else?”
    “No! Of course not. I haven’t had a single complaint.”
    “What about nonhuman animals?”
    “Are you crazy? He’s not some kind of vivisectionist monster. That category is reserved for humans. What’s wrong with you?”
    “What’s wrong with me? Mom, my finger’s broken. It hurts.”
    For a moment, she looked at me, her eyes cold and fixed on my face. Then she glanced at my finger, and her expression softened. “I’m sorry about your finger, honey. We’ll get it fixed right away, but I know what I’m talking about. Your father and I have lived with Second Brother for years, from before you were born. He treats us and the staff gently and kindly. You’re the first one who’s ever had a bad experience with him. And, I dare say, you brought it on yourself with your ridiculous game of pretending you’re somehow immune to pain. I can’t help but think your grandfather has something to do with that, too. Right?”
    I shrugged noncommittally.
    “Right. I’d be worried that you’d turn out just like him, but I don’t think there’s much chance of that. You can be as submissive as you want around Elio—he’s a nice boy—but don’t let that conniving old professor take advantage of you. You’re too naïve to see the ruthless power behind the loving smile. He’s a bad influence. He has bad friends. And he’s twisted you around so much you don’t even feel guilty about refusing your brothers’ simple request. You even suspect them of being monsters! You’re sixteen. The world is a mess. You’d better wake up one of these days. And soon.”
    A part of me wanted to scream at her that she was hateful and wrong, but the only part of me that expressed itself was shipwrecked in tears.

First Brother

    T he door to the house remains open. The dog laps up the regurgitant material, then walks over to her and watches her emit human crying sounds facedown in the grass. The dog rotates its head approximately 7 1/2 degrees clockwise, then approximately 15 degrees counterclockwise, then approximately 15 degrees clockwise, then back approximately 7 1/2 degrees counterclockwise.
    The white neck drape of her hat covers 78 percent of the visible portion of the right side of her face. The dog pushes its nose under the neck drape and licks her right cheek. She continues to emit human crying sounds and is not seen to respond to the dog. The dog grips the neck drape in its teeth and pulls the hat off her head. She continues to emit human crying sounds and is not seen to respond to the loss of her hat. The dog shakes the hat in its jaws, pauses, looks at her, then runs about in the yard. It prances back to her side and lies down on its stomach. It plays with the hat approximately 1/2 meter from the left side of her face.
    It is 1 hour, 14 minutes, 21 seconds past midday.

Sara

    T he next morning, New Year’s Eve morning, the morning I would board a flight to return home, I was awakened early by Mom. She came to my cot, sat down beside me, and stroked my hair. “You miss Elio, don’t you, honey?”
    “Yes.”
    “I’m sorry about yesterday. I was inconsiderate about the pain you must have been in. After talking it over with your brothers, I believe they’re satisfied you’ll keep their secret. You still love me?”
    I answered her with a hug. I wanted a mom to love. Perhaps Second Brother had been right: I was gaudy with emotion.
    She said I should hurry and get dressed because Dad and my brothers wanted to show me something before I left. When I entered the scanner-assembly room of the lab, I was greeted by “Good morning, Sara!” in unison from all my brothers. Then Dad asked me to hold out my left arm and be steady and brave. I don’t know whether my rounded eyes and gaping mouth adequately expressed the amazement I felt when a pigeonoid flew out from behind the scanner, lighted on my arm, its wings and body a skittish tremolo, then parted the feathers in its underside and partially ejected a chip, which it grabbed with its beak and presented to me.
    “Take it,” Dad said, “and let’s see what