The Mad Scientist's Daughter (18 page)

  "Would you like to go home?"

  Cat shook her head. She dragged her finger through her tangled hair, damp with sweat and the moisture in the air.

  "Finn, can you fall in love?" she asked.

  Finn froze. On the record, one song faded out and another began. Laughter from the kitchen.

  "What." He didn't say it like a question. His voice was strange, distorted. Then he blinked. "You're not the first person to ask me."

  "I'm not?"

  "No. The preacher came to Dr Novak's house not long ago. He asked me the same thing."

  "Oh, Finn," said Cat. "No. No… I meant." She stopped, bit her lower lip. "Please don't think–"

  "Think what? It's a reasonable question." He paused. Cat's heart pounded. Her head ached, the start of a hangover. "No, I don't believe I can. Love is far too ill-defined a concept to work within my current parameters. It's too… abstract."

  "Oh." Cat took a faltering step back. "It's too hot in here," she said, and she stumbled backward, out into the backyard. The air was damp with dew. Music throbbed out of the walls of the house. Her heart had splintered into a thousand shards of glass.

  
His kindness is a program.

  
A program.

  
A program.

  
A computer.

  Finn came outside. For a moment he stood in the doorway, haloed by the light of the party. His skin wasn't flushed red, his hair wasn't matted down with sweat. Then he glided toward her.

  "Is everything all right?" he asked. "I'm sorry if I upset you. It seems to be an upsetting issue for some–"

  "Richard asked me to marry him," Cat said.

  Cat could barely see Finn except for the silver of his eyes, reflecting the moonlight.

  "I see." He didn't say anything more for a long time. Then: "Congratulations."

  Tears welled up behind Cat's eyes. She took a deep breath. It passed.

  
He is a program.

  "I haven't said yes yet."

  Another long pause. The music changed. Cat could barely hear it now.

  "Why not?" said Finn. "Don't you want to get married?"

  "I don't know." Cat collapsed onto the wet grass. Her head no longer seemed attached to her body. "Would you marry me?"

  The words left her mouth even though she didn't mean them to. They hovered in the air between Cat and Finn, chiming like tree branches covered in ice. Cat slapped her hand over her mouth. She suddenly wanted to throw up. Rose-colored vomit.

  "I believe you understand that's not possible," Finn said. "I can't get married."

  "You don't feel anything," said Cat. "You're a machine."

  Finn didn't say anything. He knelt down in the grass beside her. Cat was going numb. She was icing over. If Finn kissed her, if Finn touched her, she would shatter.

  "I am a machine," he said.

  Cat closed her eyes.

  They rode back to Cat's apartment in a taxi cab. The lights of the city flashed over the windows and moved in long liquid lines across the contours of Finn's body. Cat watched him out of the corner of her eye. He stared straight ahead.

  There was an ache in her limbs, a twisting in her belly.

  When they came home she took off her cowboy boots and left them lying in the doorway. She combed her fingers through her hair, sticky with sweat and cigarette smoke. Finn regarded her silently from the corner of the room. She pulled the dress up over her shoulders – in the light of her apartment she saw the beer stain closely for the first time, a streak of darkness running down the front – and threw it across the living room floor. For a moment she stood, one hand on her thin cotton underwear, hair falling across her eyes, feet bare and sticking to the hardwood floors, and tried to breathe.

  "Would you like me to stay with you?" asked Finn. She heard him take one step forward. Another. With all her strength she lifted her head. She twisted her torso around, looked at him over her shoulder.

  
You can't have him.

  The way the shadows had fallen across his face, he almost looked concerned.

  
No. You can have him and not have him, at the same time.

  She nodded.

 

Two days later, Cat dug Richard's wedding ring out of the kitchen drawer and carried it into the living room. She sat down on the edge of her couch. She flipped open the lid, stared down at the ring. The curtains were drawn and so it didn't catch the light like before. She shut the lid. Picked up her comm slate from the coffee table. She pulled up the messaging program and then shook her head. No. She should call him.

  It only rang twice before he answered, his voice guarded when he said her name: "Caterina." No
Hello.

  "Richard," she said.

  "I thought you'd blown me off."

  Cat looked down at the ring. "I did," she said. "I guess. I had to… had to think about some things." She paused. "I decided on yes, if it's not too late."

  There was silence on the other end. Cat wasn't sure he would accept her acceptance, so long after the proposal; she wasn't sure she wanted him to. She felt hollow.

  "Are you still there?" Cat said.

  "Yeah, I am." Richard laughed. "I'm just… I'm stunned, Caterina. I really thought I'd never hear from you again."

  "Sorry."

  "Are you wearing it?"

  "What?"

  "The ring. Are you wearing it right now?"

  "Oh." Cat glanced down at the box, the lid shut tight, the ring hidden away. "Of course."

  Richard laughed again. "This is ridiculous," he said. "Why aren't we together right now? Get over here. Or I'll go over there. Are you at your apartment? Stay there. We need to celebrate." Then she heard him shout, away from the comm slate's speaker: "I'm fucking engaged! She finally said yes!"

  Cat sighed, stared at the curtains flattening themselves against her living room window. Richard was saying something to her: the ring. He was asking how the ring looked. She didn't have an answer. She flipped open the box, pulled out the ring, slipped it on her finger. It fit perfectly.

 
 

 
 
 

Cat knocked on Felix's door, clutching a bottle of expensive wine by its neck. Trickling through from the other side of the door was the faint murmur of voices, the occasional starburst of laughter, the hum of music. She rubbed at the place on her finger where Richard's ring should be – currently, it resided in the bottom of her purse – and felt an immeasurable gulf between herself out in the hallway and her friends in the apartment.

  The door swung open. Felix, his hair fashionably mussed, one arm slung around Miguel's shoulder.

  "Miguel," said Cat, surprised to see him. He grinned at her.

  "Nice dress."

  "You look like my fucking mom," said Felix.

  Cat glanced down: she was still wearing the dyed linen sheath dress from the engagement party at Richard's condo. Another dress she hadn't bought for herself.

  "I have a bottle of Chateau Margaux," she said. "You want it or not?"

  "Oh shit, are you serious?" Felix straightened and dropped his arm to his side. "Where the hell did you get that?"

  For a moment Cat's heart thumped inside her chest.
My engagement party
. But she only shrugged, lifted the bottle up in the air, and glided into Felix's apartment. The same worn-out beige carpet as always, the same ugly floral-patterned thrift-store couch. He'd switched out the pottery lining the bookshelves, though.

  "So what brings you around on this lovely Friday night?" Felix walked over to the dry bar, pulled out a trio of wine glasses.

  "The better question," said Cat, "is what brings Miguel?"

  Miguel slouched on the couch, kicked his feet up on the coffee table. "We're an
item
." He rolled his eyes. Over in the corner, Felix laughed.

  "Seriously?"

  "Since the rent party." Miguel took a wine glass from Felix. "We made enough to pay for two months, by the way. So fucking grateful."

  Cat smiled. Felix plucked the wine bottle out of her hand and tucked it under his arm. "I want to go out on the balcony." He walked across the room and slid open the glass door. Miguel shrugged at Cat. They both stood up, followed Felix outside. The air was warm and dry from the early summer sun. Cat sunk down on a sagging patio chair. Felix opened the wine.

  "I'm assuming," said Felix, as he filled up each of their glasses, "that you got this from the reg."

  "The one and only." Cat swirled the wine, so dark it looked like ink.

  "What's the occasion?" Miguel asked.

  For a long time Cat only stared down at the surface of her wine. When she glanced back up, Felix and Miguel both watched her.

  "Sweetie," said Miguel, "is everything OK?"

  "I'm engaged," said Cat.

  Neither Felix nor Miguel spoke. They didn't move. A wind picked up, blowing heat and car exhaust across the balcony.

  "Shut the fuck up," said Felix.

  "Where's your ring?" said Miguel.

  Cat sighed and slumped back in her chair. "In my purse." She flicked her head toward the balcony door. "If you want to see it, you can go get it." She sipped from her glass. The Margaux tasted like wine, maybe a little better than the cheap sort they served at parties in college. The alcohol burned the back of her throat.

  Felix set his glass on the balcony cement and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He slid out two, lit both of them, handed one to Cat. She accepted without question.

  "Congratulations," said Miguel.

  "Thanks."

  Silence settled around them, heavy as heat. Felix and Miguel sat down on the cement, their backs pressing against the metal grating.

  Cat finished her wine and poured another. So did Felix, so did Miguel. They drank until the bottle was nearly empty.

  "OK," said Felix, as he finished his glass. "So Cat is getting married." He lit another cigarette, and smoke curled like a halo around the crown of his head.

  "Are you going to move out to the suburbs?" Miguel asked. He and Felix looked at each other and laughed.

  "So are you going to have the three and a half kids they tell us to have?" Felix said. He dragged contemplatively on his cigarette. "Would you rather have the bottom half or the top half?"

  Cat allowed herself a smile before draining the last of the wine in her glass. "I have no idea. The top, I guess."

  "My question was serious," said Miguel. "You don't seem like the suburban type."

  "Well, she does in that dress," said Felix.

  Cat ignored him. She wanted another cigarette. She stretched her legs out in front of her, remembering the engagement party – Richard's condo made balmy and hot from the crush of too many bodies, sweat pooling at the base of her spine as he stood her up in front of all his friends and employees for a toast.
This will be a dry-run for our wedding
, he'd told her as they laid out the catered hors d'oeuvres before everyone arrived.

  "So what I want know," Miguel said suddenly, "is how your android friend is taking this. Finn."

  "Android?" Felix perked up. "Did I miss something?"

  "You're not supposed to know about him," Cat said. "You might sell him off to the government for a billion dollars."

  Felix gasped. "Don't even," he said. "Do I look like your fiancé?"

  They all laughed, although Cat's laughter sounded like an engine failing in the middle of a freeway. She looked down at her hands.

  "He wouldn't do that," she said. "He… likes robots. He treats them like people."

  Miguel frowned. "Doesn't have a problem selling them off, though."

  Cat didn't answer. Felix looked between Cat and Miguel.

  "Seriously," he said. "How come I didn't know about this?"

  "Because I didn't tell you," said Cat.

  "He was at my rent party," said Miguel. "She danced with him for like four hours."

  "Wait, that was an android?" Felix lit another cigarette. "OK, that is
not
what the androids at your meetings look like." He paused. "It looked… human. You know. Real. Not creepy."

  "
He
looked human," said Miguel gently, placing one hand on Felix's wrist.

  Cat felt uncomfortably warm.
Too much wine,
she thought.
The heat from the cigarettes.

  She knew that wasn't it.

  "Anyway," said Miguel. "You never answered my question."

  "What question?"

  "How's he taking it?"

  "What are you talking about?" She smiled like she was made of plastic, her blood rushing through her ears.

  "You know. You getting married and all."

  "He doesn't care. He doesn't feel anything."

  "That," said Miguel, "is bullshit."

  Cat fumbled for another cigarette.

  "I can tell these things," he said.

  "Yeah, you know so much about robotics," said Felix.

  "Hey, we're discussing human consciousness here. You go sit in the corner with your pottery. Let the big kids talk."

  Felix dove toward Miguel with a lit cigarette, pretending to burn him. Miguel laughed and shoved him away.

  Cat walked up to the railing. When she picked up Felix's cigarette pack, her hands shook. She looked out over the city. The freeway stretching off into the distance was a river of light. She smoked her cigarette down to the filter and then flicked it out into the darkness. Her heart raced and raced.

  Miguel and Felix shrieked behind her, their voices rising and falling and then silencing completely. When she glanced over her shoulder, Felix nuzzled Miguel's shoulder. They didn't notice her.