“What I’d like to happen, you can’t give,” I said.
“I can give anything now, Alfred.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’ve taken emergency powers. Queen Abigail. Well, when you say ‘anything’ . . . ?”
“We could still extract you, give you a new identity, take you anywhere you’d like to go.”
“Give me a normal life.”
“Yes.”
“Insert me into a normal interface.”
“Yes.”
“And leave me alone.”
“Yes.”
“Forever.”
No “yes” this time. “For as long as I am in charge.”
“You won’t be in charge forever.”
“It’s the most I can offer, Alfred.”
“And if you lose your job . . . or when you retire . . . or maybe if somebody does something to you . . . then I’m fair game.”
“What’s done is done,” she said carefully. “I can’t go back and undo the past, Alfred.”
“I guess that’s been my biggest problem,” I said. “Getting hung up on that—the undoable part.”
“You have another choice. An alternative.”
“Those are good to have. What is it?”
“Do you remember a year ago my telling you that we are always looking for fresh talent?”
“Yes. And I called you after I got home and you basically told me to grow up first.”
She smiled and again for about the tenth time I reminded myself to ask her about her oral-hygiene regimen. Her smile had the power to blind you.
“A lot of that has happened, hasn’t it?” She didn’t wait for my take on it, but hurried on. “Alfred, I’d like to offer you a position with the Company.”
She waited for it to sink in. It had a long way to sink, but Abby Smith was a patient person. She didn’t move a muscle while I stared at her.
“A couple of days ago you people are sharpening the knives to lobotomize me, and now you’re offering me a job?”
“That wasn’t us,” she answered. “That wasn’t my Company. We weren’t created for it and we will not tolerate it. No, Alfred, you would be working directly for me. In return, I will see to it you receive the best of educations as well as the safest environment to pursue it. And, when you’re eighteen, you can decide if you wish to stay with us.”
“What’s the catch?”
“It might prove a bit . . . dangerous at times. But you’ve proven more than once that you’re more than capable of handling yourself.”
“What about SOFIA? How do I know you’re not just bringing me onboard to use me again?”
When I said the word “SOFIA,” her smile evaporated. The room got dimmer, as if she had flipped off a light.