Monday, May 9
The Ethics of Water Rights Customs in Eastern Africa
Each letter still takes thought, but at least I don’t have to look up the motions for each one anymore. Just getting the title of my paper out takes longer than it should. I thought when Father said I would get some slack from my teachers, it meant no homework. No such luck. It just means a ten page paper is due tomorrow instead of a twenty-pager. Part of me just wants to peel the stupid rig off so I can type this out like a normal person, but I grit my teeth and make my fingers soldier on, painstakingly pushing out each sentence letter by letter.
“Hey brother, what you up to?” Evan’s voice says from behind me as the door clicks open.
I tweak the opacity on the display so I can see through my paper, then turn as he takes a seat at the foot of my bed.
“Writing about the ethics of who owns which wells in Kenya,” I answer. “It’s so fun that you probably want to write this paper for me.”
He laughs. “I actually wrote that same one last year, but I have a strict rule of not letting slacker brothers reuse papers.”
“Slacker? I’m busting my butt here. Any tips for making this stupid one-handed keyboard glove any easier?”
He shakes his head. “Just use it a lot. It’s second nature to me now. I’m writing all the time, you know? Implant live journal for the win.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“The point of the implant, brother,” he replies. “For Chad, it’s all about saving the world, using the tech to carry out Father’s big plan. For Jeff, it’s all about using the bots to control everything, bending the world to his will without ever using his body. Louise sees it as the key to understanding the human brain, and Andrea thinks it’s the ultimate means of artistic expression. Marc, well, Marc just struggles to use his at all. But me, I’m using it to know myself. Keeping track of every observation, every thought. I wasn’t born with it, but I’m one of the few people on earth with a perfect memory.”
“What, you just write down everything that happens to you as it happens?”
“Everything that happens, everything I say, everything I hear, everything I think.”
“Are you for real?” I ask. “What was the first thing I ever said to you? Word for word.”
He pauses for a second as his eyes dart around.
“‘Noah, Yeah, I’m Noah,’” he replies. “Then I told you I was glad you could talk, then you said ‘Yeah. I talk. Sorry. It’s been a lot to take in this morning. Who is that girl?’ and then I realized you didn’t know we were all siblings and you had the hots for Andrea.”
“You knew and you didn’t tell me? Dick move, brother.” I grab a pen off my desk to throw at him. He deflects it with a glance and laughs at me again.
“I just wanted to see where it would go with you and her. Too bad you figured it out so fast. Don’t worry, I would have stopped you before you embarrassed yourself too much.”
“Are you writing what I’m saying right now?”
“Now and all the time. I told you, I get everything down. I figure one day after we’ve saved the world, someone will want the inside story of what went on here.”
I shake my headgear-covered head. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that. Plus, it sounds like a crazy amount of effort.”
“Hey, you asked, I answered. Don’t worry. Just because it’s written down in my console, doesn’t mean I’m sharing it with anyone. And it’s really not any effort at this point. It’s not even like typing for me anymore, it’s just automatic.”
“And it works like this simulator rig? Floating text in front of you all the time?”
He nods. “Like that, but better. More customizable. Your brain just learns to use it like it’s a part of you. It’s kind of like when you put on sunglasses—you know, where at first you see the frames, but after a minute you only notice them if you think about them.”
“So is it worth putting in the effort now to get good with the glove? Or is it going to be all different once I get the implant?”
“Definitely worth it. The thing uses the same nerves, just on the other end of the connection. Up in the brain, instead of down in the muscles, you know?” I nod. “Anyway, I was going to put on a movie, you want in? I’ll even let you pick it.”
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“I wish I could, but I don’t think I can split my attention and still get this paper done tonight. Maybe tomorrow.”
“You work too hard, brother. You know if you don’t get stuff done, they just slow up the pace, right? There’s no failing at this school.”
“There is for me. I have a lot more to prove than you do.”
He shakes his head. “All right. I’ll leave you to it.”
I get back to writing my paper, redoubling my effort. I’ve never thought about the other uses of the implant beyond controlling the nanobots. I’m not worried about knowing myself, but I’ll take a perfect memory if I can get it. It would certainly help with all of this schoolwork, proving I’m good enough for Father’s program so I can continue to insinuate myself into his inner circle. It might even help in dealing with Father later. You never know when some detail might make a difference. If Evan can get writing everything down to feel automatic, there’s no reason I can’t do the same.
Sunday, May 15
I scan the doors of the side hallway off the foyer, looking for the salon. Wooden doors marked Massage, Orthodontics, Modiste, and Counseling go by before I find the door with SALON lettered in bold black type. I push it open and a little bell dingles, just like at the barbershop I used to go to back in Denver. I think the familiarity makes it worse. I hate this place so much.
No! I can’t think like that. I don’t hate this place. I love it. Just like I love Father. He’s great. I’ve only got three more weeks to internalize that. From what I’ve gathered from my sibs, when I come out of surgery, it’s just going to be me, him, and fading anesthetic. I’m not going to have much of a filter on what I might say. I need to train myself with happy thoughts, happy words, drill them right into my subconscious. And especially don’t think of that one person who definitely didn’t die under suspicious circumstances. I think that will work, anyway. Someone on the internet said it would. That’s foolproof, right?
“Noah?” the woman with chestnut-brown hair asks as I come in. She’s cute, curvacious, and maybe twenty.
“That’s me, here for my appointment. You’re Allison?”
“I certainly am,” she says with a stunning smile. “I think it’s just wonderful that you’re here. It’s so rare we get a new client in that’s old enough to tell us how they want their hair done. What are we doing for you today?”
She gestures to one of the three barber chairs and I take a seat. “Just a trim, I guess,” I say as she wraps me in a cape to keep the hair off of my clothes. “I like my old cut, but it’s getting long enough that it’s messing with a headset that I have to wear.”
“Ah, yes,” Allison says. “I’ve taken care of your brothers and sisters that had to wear that thing. It did quite a number on the girls’ hair. And Evan’s, though Leticia usually took care of him.”
“Yeah, I can imagine his curls didn’t love being compressed.”
“Right. So for you, we’re doing the same as you have, but cleaned up?”
“Yeah, let’s do that.”
She leans my chair back into a sink and I spend a few minutes of bliss getting my scalp massaged as she washes my hair. At some point in there the bell on the door rings again, and I hear muffled voices drowned in the sound of flowing water. When Allison lifts the chair back up, Jeff is in the seat next to me. His hair looks like he took clippers to himself without a mirror.
“Hey, Jeff,” I say. I desperately want to ask what he did to his hair, but I’m not sure how he’d take it. With as little as he talks, I still feel like I barely know him.
“Noah,” he says.
We sit quietly for a minute as Allison goes to work with her scissors. From the glimpses I get when the chair spins to face me toward the mirror, she’s doing a good job.
“I imagine you’re wondering what happened,” Jeff finally says, breaking the silence.
“I can’t deny I’m curious.”
“I had an unfortunate miscalculation in my programming,” he says. His voice is almost monotone. “I was attempting to enable my cloud to take on additional responsibilities with regard to my personal maintenance.”
“You tried to give yourself a haircut with your nanobots and you had a bug in the code?”
“Yes. I would appreciate it if you would not mention it to the others. I have something of a reputation to maintain.”
“My lips are sealed.”
I’m not even sure who I would tell. Evan and the girls, I guess. But if Jeff wants me to keep it secret, I don’t see a downside to doing him a solid.
“Your discretion is applauded, brother.” He settles back into silent waiting. I think that’s more words than I’ve ever heard from him in one sitting.
“Noah, I was going to offer you a mani and pedi along with your cut,” Allison’s cheerful voice chimes in, “but as you can see we have a little bit of an emergency. If you want to come back later for some nail care…”
I’ve never had either of those things, and I’m not entirely sure what all they involve. “Not a problem,” I assure her, “and I’m fine trimming my own nails.”
“If you say so. Now, let’s give you the full look.” She turns me to the wall mirror and holds a smaller one behind me so I can see the front and back of my new haircut.
“Looks great, Allison. Thanks.”
She peels off the cape and I get up. “Do I tip you or something? I’m afraid I don’t have any cash, but maybe I can put in a request on the purchasing system?”
She laughs. “Honey, I make more here in a month than I would anywhere else in a year with the best tips in the world.”
This place is so weird. Wait. No. Happy thoughts.
They definitely have everything I could ever need here. Life on the campus of the Butler Institute is so great and amazing. I can’t wait to get back to my room so I can put on my headset and keep training hard so I can help Father save the world.