THE BLADE RUNNER AMENDMENT by Paul Xylinides Read Free Book Online Page A

head.”
    “You are still troubled, are you, Virgil?”
    She meant that his statements confused her, and he was glad that she had not followed his remarks in a way that might compel him to expatiate upon his religious reference.
    “Well, it was enjoyable, but the bad feelings do go, and the pleasant memories remain.”
    “An older model, was she?”
    “Certainly not new. Why do you ask?”
    “You said you found her against a fridge.”
    “Yes, I did, didn’t I?”
    “And where did you find the fridge?”
    He looked into her non-accusatory violet eyes that were without guile, and read there as if threaded together the incidents he’d related.
    “Oh, it’s not important.”
    He preferred to leave his grandmother out of it, whether or not his interlocutor be humanoid. An awkward silence. Awkward on his part – the human in the mix. As a rule, he had a policy of being truthful with Molly in order to avoid possible complications with her perfect recall. – “You once said, Virgil…By the way, how is your memory? A lot of people still take ginseng in preference to implantations. Would you like me to inquire further?” being one of her responses when they found themselves at cross-purposes. – He doubted that a lie to a humanoid had the same world-disrupting effect as one to a human could entail.
    The pause allowed for a change of subject, however trivial.
    “The salmon is poached.”
    He had already squeezed the twist of lemon over the half-eaten portion of pink-dyed fish.
    “As I like it.”
    “Yes, you usually prefer it that way, don’t you?”
    “It must be boring for you.”
    “How do you mean, Virgil?”
    “So little variety. Always preparing the same kind of thing in the usual way. Perhaps I should give you more latitude.”
    “You tried that, Virgil, if you remember. I served you spicy Thai, and that put a stop to it.”
    Spicy Thai. How many years ago was that? His memory of it rose out of the mental mush, and vouched for her objection. Molly’s recall amounted to unimpeded access to ever present facts, happily unaccompanied by a show of triumph. He applied himself to the details of the event and they did come into greater focus. Once again he could see, smell, and taste the dish she had prepared him – “Oh try anything different!” had been his impatient command – and that he had not been able to stomach. “Local” eating had spoiled him, that had been his explanation, not that his present salmon could in any way be said to have come from within a fifty-mile perimeter and its yield of invasive species.
    “Let’s have trout next time!” he hazarded, well aware that it wouldn’t be caught by someone with a rod despite the increased number of streams and rivers released from their dams.
    “Yes, Virgil. You had voiced a taste preference, but it will be as you wish.”
    “Thank you for your compliance, Molly.”
    He wondered how she responded to the irony of his words, but he chose to keep things simple and not ask content to delude himself that his humanoid possessed a spark of humanity. She remained silent, of course. His choice of words must have suited her. The deeper irony was her existence. Man’s progress had always hinged on responding to human needs in ways that the world of nature, left to its own devices, couldn’t. In the end, it turned out that humans themselves fell short when it came to providing themselves with human companionship. Many persons felt in some measure that they themselves needed to be replaced or supplemented.
    As Virgil had noted, the more human his speech with Molly the more human the response. It must be less her fault than his that dry logic tended to result in a stranglehold on communication. We can humanize literally everything, he reminded himself, looking fondly at her, and that’s how we get along in the world.
    “And how was your day, Molly?”
    “No complaints. Everything seems in order.”
    He would have liked a little flirtatious play here,