Page 48 of Atticus
On the way to her flat, we stop for lunch at a ritzy restaurant called Sky Line, located at the top of one of the downtown skytowers. We can view the entire city, the bridge, and the Vanderbilt River from our vantage point.
Lucy fidgets. “I think I’m underdressed,” she says, glancing down at her simple torn jeans and a sweater when everyone else is dressed for a board meeting or a high-society gala.
“Don’t worry about it,” Amber reassures her, greeting the wait staff and leading us to a table after speaking with the hostess. “They know me here. They don’t care. So tell me how this works. He belongs to the school but lives with you?”
“Something like that,” Lucy says. “When he was first activated, he was registered under me.”
“I wish you’d told me that your school won the BioNex EAP lottery,” Amber remarks.
“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d make a story out of it,” Lucy replies, hesitant. “I’m off the grid now, Amber, you know that.”
“Believe me, I know. And I’ve no intention of pulling you back into the limelight,” Amber says. “I would like to do a little interview, though, if that’s all right. I won’t even mention your name.”
“That’s up to Atticus,” Lucy replies.
“I don’t mind, if it can help educate people and make them less afraid of me,” I reply.
“Good man. Now!” She pulls out a state-of-the-art tablet and sets it up with a miniature keyboard, looking at us expectantly. “Tell me everything. How is the program going for you?”
Amber fires off questions at me left and right without pause, and I answer each to the best of my ability. She asks after the students, if we’ve seen an improvement in grades in comparison to last year with my presence in the classroom, but she really seems most interested in social commentary—specifically, the reactions of the other teachers.
Lucy is wary. “I’m surprised you care so much about this. I thought you mostly covered new model releases, civil unrest, the new crime department.”
Amber rests her elbows on the table. She seems a strange, yet natural mix of comfortable and easygoing, with a bull-dogged and curious nature that tells me precisely why these women complement each other so well.
“I do, but I think you were onto something with your videos, Luce. People are worried about losing their jobs to androids, and I want to remind the nation that teachers are irreplaceable. So hearing about a case where a teacher and an android coexist in a classroom for the benefit of their students? That’s precisely the kind of feel-good story the world needs right now.”
A server delivers both her and Amber’s entrées. Amber ordered filet mignon, roasted vegetables, and a glass of red wine. Lucy ordered a grilled chicken raspberry salad, despite Amber’s insistence that she could have anything on the menu she want, regardless of price.
“I hope you don’t mind us eating and all, Atticus,” Amber says. “Is it strange, sitting at a table when you can’t partake?”
“Not especially,” I reply. “Human conversation interests me. It’s how I learn.”
“That’s good to know,” Amber says as she cuts into her steak delicately. “Why did you choose the name Atticus?”
I regard her quietly for a moment. “I chose it because I liked it.”
“You liked it?” Amber asks. “Why?”
“Between Athens and Sparta, I prefer Athens,” I reply. “Sparta was very violent. As I’ve explained to my students, I think it’s best to diffuse situations with words rather than swords.”
“That’s surprisingly philosophical.” Amber perks up. “And poetic. A pretty human turn of phrase, Atticus. I didn’t know androids were capable of preferring anything, let alone diplomacy to conflict. Tell me more about that.”
“I don’t understand how it is so surprising to everyone.” I rest my elbows on the table as the women eat. “I was designed like a living computer. Computers can solve equations and process information. Mine allows me to adapt and see things similarly to people, to mimic them as much as possible, to an extent.”
“What are your limitations?”
“I can’t lie or harm a human being,” I respond. “If that’s what you mean.”
Amber smiles triumphantly at Lucy. “He’s capable of independent thought. Isn’t it amazing how far technology has come? Not to mention how drop-dead gorgeous he is. You know, Atticus, I think you’re probably the prettiest android I’ve seen to date.”
Lucy nearly chokes on a drink of water.
“Thank you,” I reply. “I think.”
“Down, girl,” Lucy says after she’s recovered from her coughing.
“Oh, don’t worry. I know you saw him first,” Amber teases. “I think it’s a fine name. Atticus. It fits.” She holds out her wine glass as if she’s toasting to me. “When I was a kid, I really loved the character Atticus Finch fromTo Kill a Mockingbird. How he stood for truth, even when he knew he was destined to lose. Honesty is important to me, and I like to consider myself its chief defender. You and I will be friends, I think, Atticus. Very good friends, indeed.”
