Page 20 of Codi
“No,” I admit, rolling one shoulder as I resume our walk, and finally we’re at the playground’s edge. Other parents are there with their children, and soon the little ones are chasing one another around and playing games, my son among them. “I didn’t want to. That would mean sharing Lucas, making things complicated, and... I’m selfish. I want him to myself.”
“You raised him alone?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” I shrug again, as though it’s no big deal. Really, I know better. “I don’t regret it. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Makes everything worth it.”
Lucas suddenly falls to the side of the dinosaur’s tail, landing on his hands and knees with a jolt. Codi tenses and steps forward. I grasp his arm and stop him. “Wait, don’t react. It’s all right. Watch.”
Lucas watches us, gauging our reaction. I call to him, “Did you fall?”
“Yeah,” he replies. “I fell off the dinosaur! Did you see me?”
“Uh-huh! Are you okay?”
Lucas gets up and brushes off his hands, beaming. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He quickly hurries off to play with the others again.
“See?” I let go of Codi’s arm. He watches Lucas as we stand together, away from the other parents. Codi is the only android in the vicinity as far as I can tell. “Kids react based on our reactions. If I freak out, so does he. So I try not to panic. He learns to pick himself up that way.”
That Codi nearly sprang into action, though, tugs at me. Most androids I’ve seen act as though they’re on autopilot-smooth, calm, not much personality to them. Oliver was the first one I ever met who had some kind of spark, a brightness to his character.
Now Codi’s here with me, and he was ready to scoop Lucas right up if he was hurt.
The implication of a protective instinct isn’t lost on me. “You care about him, don’t you?”
Codi shifts, glancing from me to my son again. “Caring is one of my primary directives. I am programmed to care for him. And you.”
“You’re probably right, but I don’t buy that for a minute.” I notice a vacant park bench and move to sit down. “There’s more to you than programming. A lot more.”
“What do you mean?” Codi sits next to me. The way he looks at me, it’s like he’s hanging on my every word.
“I’m not technically your owner, if you think about it. I never was,” I reason as much to myself as I am to him. “You got discarded by some assholes who threw you into a garbage bin, but when we got you out and... rebooted you, I guess”—it’s strange, referring to him like he’s a computer; I suppose in a way, he is one—“you couldn’t register me as your owner after your memory wipe. Which means you never belonged to me. You stayed with me.”
Codi’s quiet, staring at me as I cross one leg over the other and lean back on the bench, keeping Lucas in my sights at all times. “So, you’re more than your programming. You could’ve left my house from the get-go, gone searching for your former master, returned yourself to BioNex, whatever. But you stayed—and not only stayed, but helped me out around the house, with Lucas, everything. Then I take you in for repairs, and they fix you. They take that... brain-control chip out, whatever the hell it is.”
“It’s not brain control,” Codi scoffs, amused.
“Well, seems like it.” I grin. “My point is, everything you’ve done so far hasn’t been because I ordered you to do it. It’s because you wanted to.”
It’s almost as if I can see his brain working behind those white eyes of his. His pupils shutter slightly when he blinks, like window blinds opening and closing. For a moment, he looks somewhat lost, like he isn’t sure what to do. “This is a bad thing? I am not fulfilling my programming?”
“Not at all.” I laugh softly. “You’re just on another level.”
“Another level.”
“Yeah, like you’ve leveled up. You’ve ascended beyond an android.” I nudge his shoulder with mine. “You’re a man now, as much as you’re a machine. The creation is on equal footing with the creator.”
“You see me as your equal?”
“Of course I do,” I tell him. “In fact, I think you’re probably better than me. It’s not fair, if you think about it. Humans have to learn. It takes years. You just know everything, do everything without having to try. I’m a bit jealous.”
“I wouldn’t be too jealous of me,” Codi says, watching Lucas run and laugh with the other children. They play some kind of hide-and-seek and tag hybrid. “If it is possible for me to be envious, then I am envious of mankind.”
Intrigued, I study his face, his eyes. “Why?”
“I may be able to do all of the things you say, but I can’t make another like me. Man has not only made me, but hundreds of me. Hundreds.” He sighs, and it strikes me how he mimics human behavior.Does he even know he’s doing it?“There will only ever be one Denise like you. One Lucas like him. You are completely unique.”
“So are you.”
Codi looks to me, incredulous. “I’m not.”
