Ruth sat carefully in the chair with her hands folded in her lap. Her straight, black hair was neatly pulled into a sensible ponytail. She looked directly at Mrs. Juvland as the older woman spoke. Ruth made sure to nod occasionally, and once she even gave a little “mm-hmm” to show that she was paying close attention.
“Well,” Mrs. Juvland finally said, tapping the paper on the table, “I am very happy with this reference.”
Ruth smiled and looked at the floor, a flush of embarrassed joy rising in her cheeks.
Mrs. Juvland continued, “So, I don’t see any reason why you couldn’t start this weekend.”
Ruth looked up quickly. “Oh, please,” she said, “I would be glad to start today.”
Mrs. Juvland raised her eyebrow. She held up the reference in her hand. “Well, I was hoping to make a couple of quick calls about this first. Just formalities. But this weekend would be marvelous.”
Ruth fidgeted with the hemline on her dress. “But, you were happy with it?”
“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Juvland said. “Dr. Banker seems to think the world of you. And if everything he says is true then… Well, we would be so happy to welcome you into the family.”
—
Dr. Banker looked at his computer screen. He adjusted one of the wires that led into Ruth’s circuitry. He typed a few lines of code and hit enter. Ruth’s eyes opened.
“Ok, let’s try this,” Mr. Banker said. “Tell me how you feel about the children.”
Ruth blinked a few times as the program booted. Then she said, “I love them very much.”
Dr. Banker nodded. “Good.” He made a note on his screen. He looked at Ruth again. “What is your first memory of them?”
Ruth’s circuits whirred for a moment as she referenced the images in her mind. “I’ve always known them,” she said. She looked at Dr. Banker. “Is that right?”
He smiled.
—
After she left the Juvland’s house, Ruth walked to the bus slowly, a huge smile spreading across her face. She thought about the past months. About the many meetings with Dr. Banker. She remembered how, week after week, she had felt increasingly certain about the children. They appeared in her mind as absolutes. There never could be no children. During the few tests Dr. Banker ran when the children were temporarily taken from her, she had felt agony inside. She thought about the nurses in the care center who helped her with her programming medicine. How proud they would be of her when she told them about her conversation with Mrs. Juvland. How happy they would be to hear that she was finally being released to love the children!
She stood at the bus stop, staring at the sky, sure that there had never been a nicer day than this one.
—
Dr. Banker ran a few more scans. He adjusted a few sub-processes. He ran through a few of Ruth’s antagonistic options to make sure she had a full-range of emotions available, but then set the main-frame back to normal.
“One more time,” he said. “Tell me about the children?”
Ruth blinked as the system processed. Then she smiled. “I love them,” she said simply.
“Is that definite?” Dr. Banker said. “We can always try a few runs without them.”
Ruth involuntarily shuddered. “Please, don’t,” she said. “Please. I’m so happy when they’re with me.”
Dr. Banker typed a few lines of code. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s try some security runs.”
Suddenly awful scenarios appeared in Ruth’s mind. Her senses were on high alert. Immediately a million test cases presented themselves to her. In a split second she internally failed to protect the children and her heart was shattered. Then, just as quickly, the same cases were repeated, and this time she was successful and saved them. The joy which flooded her was unbearably rich and sweet.
“How was that?” Dr. Banker said.
Ruth felt like she was breathing quickly though she knew that wasn’t possible. “Good,” she said. “Very hard. But so good.”
—
On Saturday Mrs. Juvland helped her bring her suitcase up to the guest quarters. It was a room at the back of the house on the 2nd floor. Ruth looked around her as she walked up the stairs. The wall of the staircase was hung with photographs of the family. She saw the smiling faces of Mr. and Mrs. Juvland. She saw them in their wedding portrait. She saw them on a beach in Hawaii, long ago.
But, what truly caught Ruth’s attention were the pictures of the children. The Juvlands had a boy and a girl. Mrs. Juvland told her Emma was 9 and James was 7.
“And, where are they?” Ruth said.
“They’ll be home soon. Mr. Juvland is bringing them home from music practice now.”
She opened the guest room door for Ruth and stood back, allowing her to look in for herself. The room was small, but spotlessly clean with a bed against the wall and a desk on the other side. Best of all, there was a window which looked out onto the back yard.
“Will it do?” Mrs. Juvland said.
“Oh, it’s…it’s perfect!” Ruth said.
Mrs. Juvland smiled. She began to tell Ruth some details about the house rules. Ruth allowed the words to drift by, her background systems picked it all up…but forefront in her processes were the faces of the children she hadn’t met yet. She felt the intense imprinted desire to love. To protect intensely.
There was the sound of a door opening from downstairs and Mrs. Juvland glanced down the hall. “That’ll be the children now,” she said. “Wait here. I’ll get them.”
She disappeared down the hall. Ruth continued to look out the window. She previewed possible scenarios using the digital representation of the children in her mind. She saw herself caring for them. She saw herself protecting them. She saw a million variations of herself saving them, from a tornado, from gunfire, from poisoning. She couldn’t stop smiling.
—
Dr. Banker sat in front of Ruth. He ran her through a series of diagnostic tests. Her eyes tracked well. Her strength and speed were tempered to match her visual age, 18 years. He verified that she was artificially stunted from accidentally breaking something with her grip.
Finally, he sat back and looked at her for a long moment. He leaned forward.
“One more question,” he said. “No tests this time. Just an answer. What if they were in danger?”
Ruth blinked. Her ducts activated and two saline drops ran down her cheek. “I would save them,” she said. “Oh, it would feel so good to save them!”
—
Suddenly she heard the sound of excited feet. Ruth turned from the window and saw the girl and boy running up the hallway toward her. When they reached her door, they stopped and looked in at her expectantly.
“Hello,” Ruth said.
The girl, Emma, glanced back down the hallway, as though looking for permission. Then she turned back and said, “You’re quite young. Don’t you think so, James?”
The boy smiled at Ruth and said nothing. Ruth knelt down in front of them. “Well, it’s true, perhaps,” she said. “I am 18, but that means I haven’t yet forgotten how to play.”
Both children smiled, in spite of themselves.
—
The first week flew by. Ruth spent every moment of the day with the children. She roused them in the morning and helped them dress. They had breakfast together and spent most of the morning in the garden. After lunch they played indoors, and Ruth taught them new games. In the hour before dinner she read to them. The only time she was alone was in the evenings after Mr. Juvland came home from work. Ruth sat alone in the kitchen while the family ate in the dining room. She could hear the children vying for Mr. Juvland’s attention, chattering on about what happened that day.
In no time it was a full week already since Ruth had come to the Juvland’s house. She lay on her bed at the end of the day, Saturday, and looked out the window at the shadows slowly lengthening across the back yard. She continued to previsualize every possible case when she might need to show love toward them, care for them, protect them. Her face felt like it was glowing with joy.
Soon her inner time registered night. So, she closed her eyes. But in her programmed dreams she continued to care for the children.
—
The next day in the garden the children were fussing with each other. James wanted the shovel. Emma refused him and continued to dig in the sand box.
“But, it’s my turn!” James cried.
“Use a stick,” Emma said.
“Please, Emma,” James said, pulling on her arm. Emma was filling a pail with sand, each scoop going deeper into the hole she was making. James pulled harder on her arm, and the shovel suddenly came loose from the hole and struck him on his forehead.
James clutched his forehead in pain and began to howl. Ruth’s care circuits lit up. She jumped up and cradled his head in her hands. He continued to sob, but Ruth made soothing noises and eventually his cry settled into a whimper. Ruth stood up and slowly led him back into the house.
In the bathroom she cleaned his forehead with a warm cloth. By then James had forgotten about the hurt, and his eyes were dancing, anxious to return to Emma outside. When he was finally clean Ruth let him go.
She heard him dash down the hall. Ruth washed out the cloth in the sink. She sat on the edge of the bathtub. Her inner wiring processed through a series of digital patterns. She felt the fading inner desire now that the danger pattern had evaporated. She smiled. She had saved him. Her circuitry buzzed with joy.
She allowed herself to imagine other variations on the same theme. Instantly she saw the shovel put out his eye. Then she saw the dirt infect a scratch on his knee. Then she saw the shovel miss him but saw him suffering from mental pain due to a psychological disruption in his relationship with Emma. Every situation flew through Ruth’s mind. Finally, she quieted herself by replaying what had actually happened. She smiled as she re-experienced the joy she felt when she cared for him.
Briefly her sensors noted something new. The joy had been slightly greater in the moment when the incident happened. Ruth’s circuits logged the results.
—
The next day Mrs. Juvland asked Ruth if she would accompany the children to music class. “It’s just a few blocks over,” she said. “I would take them myself, but I have a dentist appointment.”
Ruth was overjoyed. She had not yet been outside of the house or garden with the children. She gaily helped them with their proper shoes and the three of them sang goodbyes to Mrs. Juvland as they walked out the front door.
They walked down the street together, Emma next to Ruth and James slightly farther ahead as he ran from tree to tree, banging on the bark with a stick. It was a fine day with the sun warming the tops of the trees, the dappled shadows moving gently across the yards of the neighboring houses they passed by.
Soon Emma found her own stick and was running after James, both children now tapping on trees and fences as they ran ahead. Ruth’s eyes followed them.
As they approached the busy street ahead, Ruth suddenly felt circuits buzz with the knowledge of street danger. Every car that whirred past was replayed in her mind as a scenario: bearing down on a child, nearing a child, intending to strike a child. And every option replaced it with: Ruth pulling the child to safety, Ruth deflecting the car, Ruth covering the child her with her intensified arms. Several options presented themselves to her decision banks. Her program accepted every one. It felt wonderful.
They stopped at the crosswalk. As the children waited they danced from foot to foot, eager to cross. Ruth looked down at them with her sensors alive for any sudden movement which might put them too close to the street. She also previsualized every move she would make to protect them. Then, for a nanosecond, yesterday’s new log from her scenario with James registered itself again.
Ruth looked up at the light. Her inner sequencing could tell it was about to turn red for the cars and then the pedestrian walkway would be green. A bird flew overhead. For the briefest of moments, she hesitated and then decided.
“Look, children,” Ruth said, and pointed into the air. Both children looked up into the sky with their backs to the street. Ruth registered the flight angle of the bird. She noted where Emma was standing. Then she turned, and made sure to step just slightly in front of the girl, just enough to obscure Emma’s vision of the bird. Emma took a step back to see more clearly, and then was falling into the street. Ruth turned and calculated the car’s impact time. She delayed her response for the split-second it took her sensors to register complete danger for Emma, and then activated her program and swept the girl up into her arms and back onto the sidewalk. The car swerved, and the driver pulled over.
He opened his door and ran over to them. Emma was sobbing and James was white with fear.
“Is she okay?” the driver said, wringing his hands.
“She’ll be fine,” Ruth said, “There, there, dear girl. You’re safe now.” She kissed Emma’s cheeks and stroked her hair. “It’s okay now. You’re safe.”
Ruth beckoned to James. He ran to her. She held both children in her arms. Her sensors were alive with pleasure. More than she had ever felt.
—
That evening after Ruth read to the children she helped them with their pajamas. After the incident at the street corner Ruth had taken them to get ice cream, and, as she calculated, the children had soon forgotten what happened with the car and said nothing to their parents.
As the children were brushing their teeth Ruth continued to play back to herself what happened. She watched the bird fly. She anticipated Emma’s movement. She calculated the angle she needed to slightly obscure Emma’s vision. She watched the girl fall. Again and again she watched herself leap forward and save the girl. Each time she saved her the circuits in Ruth’s mind accepted the memory and logged it. Eventually the pleasure she had felt died down into background noise as the registered memory became part of Ruth’s low-level static. She frowned slightly. She ran through the memory several million more times. It was lifeless now. It held no spark.
After everyone in the house was asleep, Ruth quietly walked into the back yard. She stood for a few moments and allowed her programs to run. Instantly she rehearsed her entire life span. From the moment she had memory she had images of Emma and James in her mind. Though she hadn’t been there, she saw herself witnessing their births. She watched them crawl for the first time. She heard their first words. It had all been supplied to the company by Mr. and Mrs. Juvland when they requested a model like Ruth. She had given uploads of every home video and every still photograph. She was augmented with hours and hours of the Juvlands talking about their children, about their hopes and dreams for them.
Then, separately, Ruth ran through the entire library of possible variations on things with had never happened but might have. She saw complications in the births. She saw accidents which didn’t happen but could have. She witnessed awful images of their imaginary deaths. She then heard Mr. and Mrs. Juvland talk about memories they had with their parents and wishes which never came true. She felt the ramifications of physical and psychic pain on Emma and James from tangible and psychological threats from any possible source.
Finally, Ruth instantly ran through every possible future scenario. Her quantum brain fulfilled the request and previsualized trillions of pathways. Ruth isolated the future moments when anything harmful might happen and again and again she allowed herself the programmed joy of round after round of successful protection.
When she was finished she stood quietly in the backyard and breathed in the night air. She evaluated her thoughts and was content with her decision.
She turned and walked to the garage. Her sensors picked up the smells of stale exhaust and turpentine. She sniffed again. Her circuitry registered the can of gasoline Mr. Juvland kept for the lawnmower.
Ruth picked up the can and walked back out into the yard. She looked up at the children’s windows and imagined them safely sleeping in their beds. Carefully she poured the gasoline along the wall of the house. Once the boards were wet, Ruth took out a match. She lit it and held it just far enough away from the fumes so there was no contact. She breathed deeply. Then she flicked the match against the soaked boards.
Ruth’s sensors lit up with the knowledge of the heat. She had waited until the match was flicked, but now she began to record her vision. She not only watched the flames blossom upward but also predicted their future paths. She previewed the flames successfully consuming the entire house. She was satisfied.
The fire quickly spread until the lower floor was completely engulfed in flames. Ruth’s danger sensors were alive and pinging. She breathed in the feeling and felt her pleasure banks overflowing with radiating desire. The lights in the bedrooms went on. Ruth could hear Mrs. Juvland screaming. Then she could hear the children crying.
She danced up and down for a moment until she couldn’t contain herself any more. Then she went in to save them.
This story previously appeared in House of Zolo.
Edited by E. S. Foster.
Zary Fekete grew up in Hungary. He has a debut novella (Words on the Page) out with DarkWinter Lit Press and a short story collection (To Accept the Things I Cannot Change: Writing My Way Out of Addition) out with Creative Texts. He enjoys books, podcasts, and many many many films. Twitter and Instagram: @ZaryFekete