Page 24 of Codi
He leads me into the foyer, then to a set of stairs that takes us down into the basement. Round tables and metal chairs are spread across a hardwood floor, meant for entertaining and feeding the congregation after morning services. There’s a large kitchen in the back, which is where Father Patrick goes.
He pulls out a simple glass and fills it with water. “Quite a mess we’re in, isn’t it?”
I glance at him with an arched brow. “What?”
He motions with his free hand. “Humanity.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
Father Patrick regards me quietly for a moment. “You strike me as a creature capable of independent thought.”
I tread cautiously. “I am an android. My thoughts are not like yours. They are programmed algorithms that respond to human requirements to best serve—”
Father Patrick holds up his hand. “Perhaps that is how it starts.” He motions for me to sit down with him. I hesitate, glancing at the glass of water meant for Lucas, but sensing the boy’s need for it likely isn’t dire, I take a seat. “I’m only recently assigned to this diocese. I’ll eventually be taking over for Father Francis. I served my first church in a little town north of Omaha, Nebraska. Had never seen an android before until I came to New Carnegie.”
I idly perform a quick scan of his biometrics, an action that takes little effort or concentration on my part. In comparison, I suppose it would be as simple as humans breathing. Nothing about him seems on edge, so I allow myself to relax a little more. “That is understandable. Most android owners outside of Pennsylvania live in larger cities, or on the coasts. BioNex hasn’t expanded fully into the Midwest yet.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Father Patrick agrees. “You know, I always figured when I met my first android, I’d be staring at a hunk of plastic with nothing staring back at me. Maybe that’s why the people outside are so afraid.”
I shift in my chair, my brow knitting in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I mean there is something staring back at me,” Father Patrick replies. “Which is both incredible and unfortunate. It means there is more to you than wires and software. There is sentience. There is, for lack of better word, life. Maybe even a soul.” He watches me carefully. “Do you see yourself as alive?”
Life. I do not answer him at first. “I know what this word means, biologically and scientifically, but the concept is still... foreign to me, just out of my reach. I’ve never seen myself as alive. I just... am.”
“Well, you’re no worse off than the rest of us, then. People are still trying to understand and justify our reason for existing beyond simply appearing in this universe by accident. We’ve been trying to make sense of our own selves since we appeared on the earth.” Father Patrick chuckles. “We’re imperfect creatures, creating imperfect things.”
He leans forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees. “You see, Codi, the problem is in the creation. The fact that you exist is not what’s wrong with this city, this country, or even this world. The fact that you exist is a marvel. The problem is why you exist.”
I have no idea what he is talking about. “Why I exist?”
“Why do you exist?”
“To care for people.”
“I wish that were true.” Father Patrick leans back and rests his arm on the table. “You exist because a person, or group of people, filled with good intentions, driven by their own impulses and overwhelmed by greed, created you to improve their lives for them rather than improving their lives themselves. BioNex has one purpose—to make its founder and executives rich. And therein lies the problem of creation.”
“The problem of creation?”
“My faith teaches me that I was created in an image out of unconditional love, something we still can’t fully fathom to this day because our minds aren’t infinite. There are limits to our understanding.”
It takes me approximately thirteen seconds to fully scan all Abrahamic narratives while we speak. I’m programmed to show respect to all religious practices, but not to accept them. “Your point of view is based on often incomplete ancient texts, Father Patrick.”
“So they are.” He smiles at me. “I’ll spare you the Bible lesson, then. Ultimately, I was created out of love. You were created out of convenience. The question then becomes, are you an extension of the spiritual vision for mankind, or are you an abomination?”
Indignation spreads through my gratification drive at such a word. “You think I’m an abomination?”
“No. I think some of the actions people choose to take are abominable. People or things are not abominable themselves,” Father Patrick replies. “And the protestors outside don’t seem to understand that. You are the byproduct of a larger sin. You are not sin itself.”
He falls quiet, scratching the outline of a five o’clock shadow. “Are you capable of free will, Codi?”
“I think so,” I reply. “I’m not sure.”
“If I commanded you to throw yourself into traffic, could you say no?”
“Yes.”
“Then you are capable of free will. Which means you are capable of two very different things.” Father Patrick holds up his hands, miming a scale. “Love and hate. Do you care for Denise and Lucas?”
