When I decided to shut everything down, I sent him to my old friend….” He stopped and I saw his throat work as if he were holding back some raw emotion. “Then I sold my shares and moved out of Pittsburgh.”
I chose to let Nick’s sudden strange behavior go, not because I didn’t care, but because now was perhaps my only chance to ask something I’d been painfully curious about for a long time. “Nicholas, what is Daniel?”
I paused, licking my lips as I thought of how to put the questions I had. “I mean… what is IRM-667? Why did you give him to Jonathan? And what does he have in common with Lucas? And… with Zero? Did you even design those last two models?” They’d both come out after he’d quit the company; it was anyone’s guess who had created them.
Nicholas didn’t answer right away, so I added another question – just to get it out before I forgot to ask it. “And what does the ‘IRM’ stand for?”
Now he laughed, dropping back his head and closing his eyes. “Christ, you always asked a lot of questions, Sunshine.”
I felt my cheeks grow hot, and I blinked. I hadn’t heard that nickname in a very long time. But now, hearing it come from his lips, memories flooded me. In our youth, Nicholas Byron had sometimes called me Sunshine because of my eyes. It wasn’t always. He would only do it when I destabilized him, got under his skin, or surprised him in some way. So again, it wasn’t always. But it happened frequently enough that I felt instantly shy and scolded by his words now. I’d unsettled him with my questioning.
But I didn’t retract any of my questions. They were frankly only the beginning of the landslide of queries I had about all that was happening in my world. Instead, I waited. I can’t say I waited patiently exactly, but I did wait, and I even managed to do it silently.
Finally Nicholas said, “Yes, I designed both IRM-900 and 1000. And believe it or not, I designed Daniel after I designed those two, not before, despite the number sequence. And….” Now he paused, gave me a long, silent look, and deliberated something carefully. I waited with held breath until he said, “The truth is, you’re the reason I designed them, Sam.”
I blinked. Then I froze in my tracks, coming to a standstill in the middle of the snowy sidewalk.
Nicholas took two steps past me before he realized I wasn’t walking any longer. He stopped and turned to face me.
“What?” I asked softly, stunned to my core. “What… on Earth do you mean I’m the reason? And….” I was just too surprised to get my words out right. “What?” I asked again, this time with a good deal more feeling.
He chewed on his cheek, his ice blue eyes focused hard on me, and he asked, “Do you happen to recall that argument we once had over the duality of the animal spirit?”
“What?” I asked again dumbly.
But he continued. “You remember, I’m sure. Morrison’s class. We were paired together to study the subject of the twin aspects of the soul. You took the side supporting the two wolves theory. Except that during our collaboration, you decided they were more like a wolf and a Siberian tiger.” He paused meaningfully. “Ring any bells?”
I must have been a sight standing there with my wide, bewildered eyes and my mouth half open. But of course, I did remember the conversation. I remembered it very well. It had been more of an argument than a conversation, and one that went on for more or less an entire week. The initial exchange was heated and took place in public, right in Morrison’s philosophy classroom. And it began when Nicholas icily and verbally sliced me up because… well, because he’d caught me and his brother kissing.
Okay, Cole and I had been drunk at the time.
Well, I was drunk, anyway. It was a special night, some kind of dance or bonfire or something. We were seniors. I’d never consumed alcohol before. And I was stressed with projects and finals.
On the other hand, Cole’s excuse for the kiss had simply been that he was Cole, because in truth he wasn’t drinking. I couldn’t remember what he’d claimed as his reason for teetotalling that night, but in the end, it wasn’t alcohol that made him pin me to the wall in the school hall and kiss me hard and deep until my toes curled.
Besides, even if he had been drinking, that wouldn’t have done it. I had really seen him throw back some alcohol in our youth, and not once had I ever seen Cole so much as tipsy. The man had almost supernaturally been able to drink anyone under the table.
When he found us embracing, Nicholas came to the conclusion that his brother had used his sobriety – and my lack thereof – to take advantage of me. He hadn’t been wrong.
In any case, due to Nick’s visceral reaction and my very strong desire to maintain the status of friendship between the three of us, that had been the first and last kiss Cole and I ever shared, despite the look in Cole’s eyes when I’d told him that’s how it would be. I would never forget that look. And no, I would never forget that “conversation” between me and Nick.
Slowly, I nodded. “I remember,” I admitted warily. “How could I forget?”
Nick’s eyes were extra blue in the reflected light of the snow as he drew closer. They were so beautiful they were hypnotic. “I spent all weekend fuming. Then Monday came around and you were stubborn as ever, arguing with me… defying me as usual.”
A strange thrill went through me when he put it like that. Maybe it was my submissive side? I didn’t know. But I was enrapt as he went on.
“Monday night I was so pissed off,” he said, “not only because of you. But because I’d confronted Cole about the indiscretion. And he’d chosen to react by telling me in no uncertain terms that he’d do it again as soon as he had the chance. The icing on the cake was that I knew you’d fucking won that argument with me in class. As usual.” He chuckled, but his laughter had a hard edge to it, and I could see that old familiar streak of irascible heat riding just under the surface of his skin and speeding through his veins.
That “argument” between us had taken a long time to get over. And he was right; I had won. Nick may have always been moral, but I’d done nothing but think about humanity and life and existence since my first memories of being able to think at all. The universe – the multiverse – confused me. It intrigued me. Life confused and intrigued me. I still knew nothing about it for certain and I supposed I never would. But I knew that nothing thoroughly, and from every conceivable angle. That was why I’d earned and sustained the highest grade in that philosophy class, and that was why I’d been able to hold my own that week, as Nicholas and I traversed the issue of people being both good and bad.
Nick continued. “So when we parted Monday, I went to the lab, turned on my dedicated computer, and set out to prove to you that a person could exist who was not two wolves – or rather, a wolf and a tiger. Because I could make that person.” He sighed. “I’d been working on the schematics for an android for years. That night, I drew up my first.”
My eyes widened as I listened.
“However, in order to create a single-sided person like I wanted, I would eventually wind up making two people.” He snorted. “Which I now realize is just more proof you were right all along.” He lifted his head as he recalled the past. “In effect, the two androids I created that night were one angel and one demon. One wolf... and one very deadly tiger.”
Tiger, tiger, burning bright, my mind recited. I stared at Nicholas.
And stared.
“But… Nick, we were seniors in high school. You hadn’t even graduated. You hadn’t even produced your first android prototype yet.”
“I know,” he said with a smile. “They were in effect my first prototypes.” He paused, perhaps for effect or perhaps because the gravity of what he was about to say deserved the pause. “Lucas and Malcom were designed before I even thought about creating FutureGen. Years before FutureGen. And I honestly never intended either android to run through production. I just wanted to design them.”
I must have blinked fifty or sixty times, as if the eyelid motion helped me order my thoughts. Then I asked, “So… what ex
actly did you do with the designs?”
“When I finished that night, I realized I had a long way to go. So, I stored them,” he told me. “They went into the system that would eventually carry every other android design. Over the next few years but still long before I started the company, I tweaked them to add necessary programming. But eventually I was finished with them and they were sealed away for good. They were stored as non-production prototypes with the added contingency coding that dictated if they ever were produced, their programs would only run once. They were then locked down in encrypted files. I don’t know what I was thinking when I started making them, exactly,” he said as he shrugged his broad shoulders. “To be honest, it was like something came over me that first night…. And I guess there was a part of me that knew I was acting like an idiot but still dreamed I’d one day bring them to life and show them to you.” He shook his head. “Just to prove you wrong.”
He took a deep breath. “But once they were complete, I recognized that I could never go through with their production. Not with those two models. Or, at least not with… the tiger.” He sighed. “And then as the years continued to go by and we moved on, they went on a backburner. We went to Stanford, we graduated, you left and I created FutureGen. When I didn’t hear from you again,” he gave me a look of reprimand, “and I couldn’t find you either, I more or less forgot about them altogether. And I got on with my life.” After a beat, he added, “For the most part.”
I processed what he’d told me.
I’d gone out of my way to make it impossible for anyone to locate me after we both graduated. I’d done so because I didn’t want the wrong people getting their hands on the things I was designing. The best way to do that was to stay completely off the grid. But now, staring up at him, I could see that Nicholas had been hurt by that lack of communication. Maybe a lot. And regret flooded me.
Until I realized something and temporarily forgot about regret.
“Wait,” I said. “You called IRM-1000 ‘Malcom.’” My eyes went wide. “And Grace called him that too, and he asked me to call him that. You gave him that name!”
Nicholas lifted a brow in obvious interest. “Yes,” he said, his interest clearly piqued by the information. “There was a line or two of coding to that effect in there….” He trailed off for a moment, his brow furrowed. “But that he told you his name and asked you to address him as such…. That’s very interesting.”
He turned slowly, placing his hand at my back to urge me forward. I fell into step beside him and we continued strolling along the route we’d been taking. It was better to keep moving in this kind of cold.
“In truth, I named both IRM-900 and IRM-1000, and they each have three names, not one. The names were taken from five of the men in my family, going back five generations. IRM-900 is Lucas Mason Antares. And IRM-1000 is Malcolm William Antares.” He glanced at me. “It was in their matrix design that they would know their names upon ‘awakening.’ Obviously Lucas decided the three names should be truncated to one. Or perhaps FutureGen truncated it for him. And as far as Malcolm is concerned…. Again, who knows who or what made the decision to create him. But I can tell you that since Antares is the fifteenth brightest star in the night sky, that’s most likely where the name for his company came from: Vector Fifteen.”
He stopped and turned to face me, his look deadly serious. “Sammy, I have to tell you this. Malcolm most likely gave you his name because it’s similar in origin to Luke’s. It’s a genuine name, given to him at the same time Lucas received his own. He knows you are in love with Lucas. And Zero very much wants you to think of him in the manner that you think of IRM-900.” He paused and shrugged. “He wants you to call him by his name, not his number.”
Once again – I blushed. “I-in love?” I asked, as if that were absurd.
But Nicholas didn’t even flinch. His expression remained utterly calm, utterly serious, and his eyes saw right through me. “Believe me Sam, jealousy between brothers is like a bloodhound. It sniffs out the slightest form of favoritism and zeroes in on it – so to speak. You’re in love with him. And Zero knows it.”
I imagined that with Cole as a little brother, Nick would know about such things. I could see Cole at least attempting to seduce everyone Nick ever tried to date. After all this time, despite being the most eligible bachelor in the world for more than a decade, Nicholas Byron was still single. No life partner in sight, male or female. Surely Cole couldn’t be responsible for all of that… but I was betting he was responsible for some.
So I let out a whoosh of breath and admitted softly, “Okay, fine. I guess I might be just a little bit in love.”
In a tone that actually frightened me it was so somber, Nicholas lowered his voice and said, “Malcolm is the tiger, Sam. I’m sure at least a part of you has figured that out by now. He’s the reason I never put either of those models into production. Within his programming lie all the most dangerous traits of mankind – pride, desire, ruthlessness, cunning, apathy, and jealousy.” He looked pained now as he added, “I’m ashamed to say that they were the emotions and traits I was experiencing that night, in surplus. After all, I designed Malcolm first. And Lucas… he was an afterthought. A means to balance. Nothing more.”
I took in what he was saying. But then, more carefully, I processed it again. And when I did, the revelation was flooring. Nicholas was telling me, here and now and finally, that when he’d found me kissing Cole he had indeed been jealous of his brother. He’d experienced desire. Ruthless, cunning desire….
For me?
I glanced at up at the tall, handsome man before me – and the look in his stark blue eyes was enough to confirm my supposition. All that time, he had actually harbored feelings for me. When he’d warned me of the jealousy between brothers, he wasn’t talking about any other girl. He was talking about himself and Cole – and me.
I hadn’t found the words to speak yet when he continued.
“Worst of all is that I not only set out to design them because of you, I literally designed their physical and tangible attributes for you.”
I swallowed hard and cleared my throat, hoping I wouldn’t sound as lame as I felt just then. Softly I asked, “What do you mean?”
“Think about it, Sam. In all the world with its billions of people and androids, what are the chances that you end up with Lucas?” He paused for effect. It worked. What were the chances? Remote, at best.
“I was livid that night, Sammy.” He smiled, but it was a small smile, and one that still held a good deal of regret. “How can you really not have known that I wanted you for myself?”
My chest tightened, my heart dropped into my stomach, and I felt rooted to the spot. He had come out and said it. At last.
“You… never said anything,” I said.
He paused before saying, “Actually I did once. Do you remember the sixth grade astronomy camp where we met for the first time?”
I nodded numbly. I remembered everything I’d ever done with Nicholas.
“Three days into it, the camp director instructed us to gather wood so we could learn how to build a fire in case we ever got stranded at an observatory.”
Observatories were usually located in remote places, and more often than not, cold places. And I remembered that too.
“We decided to partner up to look for kindling and smaller logs. After we’d both found a bunch, I took your pile from you. You protested, insisting that girls were just as strong as boys and you could carry your own wood.” He shook his head. “But I told you it had nothing to do with you being a girl. I told you I was carrying it for you because that was what husbands did for their wives, and some day I was going to marry you.” He laughed, and for the first time in my entire life, I saw Nicholas Byron’s cheeks darken with the hint of a blush. “Cole took the chance to ruin it of course, as usual. And you forgot all about it. But I didn’t forget, Sam. I believed we were meant to be together then, and I still believed it seven years later, when I found you an
d Cole kissing.”
Now blood was roaring through my ears. I only heard what he said next because I was so focused on him.
“And like the song says, I wanted you to want me. So that night I programmed Malcom with every physical element and social capacity I knew would appeal to you in a man. And then some. I’d been watching you so for so long, paying attention. I had a lot to work with.” He paused, breathing out with tangible emotion. “Then I did the same thing with Lucas.”
My mind went all kinds of places as I stood before him in the snow. My legs felt numb, but with heated epiphany rather than cold. It was almost more than I could fully take in.
I didn’t know what to say. I had absolutely no idea. So naturally I fell silent. So did he. Until at last, he placed his hand at the small of my back again, and we recommenced walking.
As we walked, my thoughts churned. I heard his words over and over in my head.
… every physical element and social capacity I knew would appeal to you in a man. And then some…
I’m human, animal by nature, so of course my thoughts eventually went one place specifically, and even though there was no way in hell I would give voice to those thoughts, Nicholas was a genius. When I blushed and looked over at him, somehow he automatically knew.
Beside me, he smiled his knowing smile, raised his brow in amusement again, and said, “Yes, despite the fact that they’re early models – the earliest – they’re both anatomically correct, and as Data would put it, ‘fully functional.’”
Data. As in from Star Trek, The Next Generation. Nicholas was as much a geek for classic popular culture as I was. I missed that about him.
“You’ve kissed Lucas,” he said, “So you know how he feels in that respect.”
Yes, I did. He felt amazing. His lips were the perfect temperature, soft and dry, but his kiss was firm and just hungry enough to awaken that same hunger within me.
Nick’s smile broadened and he added, “Though I suppose both models are a little more…” he cleared his throat, “generously endowed than your average male.”
I, Android: A Different Model Page 23
