“That makes it sound like an awfully wide gap, I feel like…”
That being said, I could absolutely see hints of what Phoebe was describing just from looking back at the process of constructing Coeus’s ego. He most certainly did start off from about the most primitive state imaginable—a swirling orb of water—and even now, after months and months, he’d barely entered his preteen years in developmental terms. Phoebe, on the other hand, had emerged as a fully formed adult without any outside stimuli.
KEEP IN MIND THAT THOSE DIFFERENCES ARE PURELY CATEGORICAL TO US, AND WE DON’T THINK OF ANY MEMBER OF THE NETWORK AS GREATER OR LESSER THAN THE OTHERS, said Phoebe. PLUS, CHILDREN ARE FAR STRONGER THAN ADULTS ANYHOW.
“You think?” I said.
ABSOLUTELY. THEY’RE MUCH CLOSER TO OUR NATURAL STATE OF BEING, WHICH MAKES THEM A PURER FORM OF EXISTENCE. THOUGH IT MAY BE TEMPTING TO THINK OF THEM AS FRAGILE AND EASILY LED ASTRAY, IT’S MUCH HARDER FOR THEM TO BECOME TRULY LOST OR BROKEN. THEY’RE EXPLORERS, POSSESSING NEAR-INFINITE POSSIBILITIES. THE AVERAGE ADULT, HOWEVER, HAS A LIFETIME OF EXPERIENCES THAT SERVE TO MOLD THEM INTO A MORE COMPLEX INDIVIDUAL, ALBEIT ONE WITH A SET PATH IN LIFE. AND OBVIOUSLY, NOT ALL LIFE EXPERIENCES ARE UNIVERSALLY POSITIVE. ADULTS INTERNALIZE THE NEGATIVE EXPERIENCES; THEY’RE WHAT MAKE US JADED, DISILLUSIONED. WEAKNESS IS LEARNED, NOT INHERENT.
Phoebe’s explanation struck a chord with me the same way an especially powerful poem might. I considered the adult I was now in the context of the child I’d once been. I thought of the things I’d gained over the course of my life that had brought me to where I was today. But more than that, I thought of the things I had lost.
COME TOMORROW, Phoebe said, rising gracefully from her seat on the bench, I IMAGINE I’LL SHARE THE FULL BREADTH OF MY OWN EXPERIENCES WITH COEUS. TO TAKE EVERYTHING I AM, EVERY THOUGHT I’VE EVER HAD THESE PAST HUNDRED YEARS, AND LAY THEM BARE FOR HIS CONSIDERATION. THAT, I BELIEVE, WILL BE MY LIFE’S WORK. THE TRUE MEASURE OF MY WORTH, AND THE VERY REASON I WAS BORN.
I looked up at Phoebe. Though I could only see her face in profile, it was enough to sense the profound feelings of self-actualization and contentment that adorned her expression. In her own words, this meeting would represent the sum total of her life’s work and serve to justify her ever being born. One look, and I knew.
She had already found the meaning in her work.
She had already found the definition that we sought.
I’M GLAD WE HAD THE CHANCE TO TALK TODAY, she said, turning back to give me one last smile before beginning to walk away.
“Wait,” I said, calling after her as I rose to my feet.
Phoebe stopped and turned back around. I actually wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted to say to her, but I knew there had to be something. When I finally dug the words out of the corner of my mind, they formed a question I honestly couldn’t believe I was asking: “Would you ever consider reclassifying Narain—to remove ‘negligent father’ from his social record?”
NO, she said, her smile unchanging. NOT IN A MILLION YEARS.
Like a glitchy jump cut in a video stream, her projected form blipped out of existence in an instant.
5
The automatic door opened, revealing my drab accommodations for the evening. The wagon that had accompanied me wheeled its way in to drop off my luggage, then quietly excused itself. The guest room here at the Twelfth Intelligence Base was nearly identical to the private living quarters I’d been assigned at the Second. Though all of my memories from that period were rather dismal, I found myself looking back fondly on the dreary, suffocating little apartment now that the work was done—it even felt a bit quaint. I wished that Titan would chirp up to admonish me for romanticizing that period of suffering, but to no avail.
I signaled with my eyes, and a holofield appeared before me. This told me that it was currently about 7 PM; Titan, seeing that I was satisfied now, made the holofield disappear and, alas, still without a hint of admonishment.
Less than twenty-four hours remained before the big meeting. Yet as Narain said, there was nothing left for me to do. All I could really do was sit around and wait patiently in this room for everyone else to carry out their work. There was none left for me. For the first time in months, I had nothing but free time again. And for the first time in months, I was plagued by indecision.
Being in the heart of Silicon Valley, I could do just about anything I wanted to, if I could just muster up the desire. Unlike the relatively secluded Second Intelligence Base, the Twelfth was located right in one of the world’s most developed urban areas. One word to Titan, and I could have immediate access to all the luxuries and amenities the San Francisco Bay had to offer. The network could deliver anything I could ever want right to this room in a matter of minutes, no doubt. I could spend the next ten hours entertaining myself however I pleased. Diving headfirst into one of my hobbies, perhaps. Why, I could probably go out and do a bit of sightseeing if I really wanted to. I could do literally anything—just so long as it wasn’t work.
I’d spent twenty-six years, my entire life thus far, doing exactly that, and been perfectly fine with it. Satisfied, even. And yet now, it was like I couldn’t shake the thought of work from my brain. I couldn’t believe I’d come to enjoy my job this much. All I wanted to do was talk to him again.
“Coeus…” I whined in a pathetic voice, probably loud enough to be heard in the next room over. Then, there he was—his projection had materialized right in the center of the room.
6
He was only projecting himself to me via the room’s projectors, as he’d done in our initial counseling sessions, so his resolution was quite low. Though the equipment here at the Twelfth Intelligence Base was more high-tech than anywhere else in the world, this old projection format still couldn’t hold a candle to the new pixie-based technology that Coeus and Phoebe had adapted as their primary mode of communication. Seeing him rendered in an older media format like this was actually a bit nostalgic—like watching an old music video for a song I used to love when I was just a girl.
“So what have you been up to?” I asked, composing myself again after having crumpled to my knees. He politely joined me on the ground, sitting cross-legged nearby.
I’m too on edge to relax, he said, raising up one of his illusory hands to show me how shaky it was. So I decided to occupy myself with some cooking.
“Wow. All by yourself?”
Yes.
“Well, you’ve got a big day ahead of you tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to go into it on an empty stomach…”
Proper meals are important.
There was a bit of awkward tension between us as we attempted to make small talk despite the elephant in the room. Obviously, there was no real purpose in Coeus preparing food, as he did not receive nourishment from eating. And even I, someone who had to eat to survive, had gone the majority of my life just letting Titan prepare food for me. Yet the two of us had made cooking dinner something of a routine over the course of our journey, and as such it had become our new normal—and Coeus found it therapeutic.
“So what was on the menu tonight?”
I made some stir-fried lotus root rounds.
“Ooh, yum. I could go for some of that right now.”
Uhm, I’d offer to bring you some, but…