Shen and Quon

The robot father took a moment to ease himself into the next part of the story. He drank his whiskey and looked out into the dark wet night.

“Quon,” he said finally. “Quon was the one who realised he could steal people’s memories. Not only that, but he could claim those memories for himself. He could use someone’s own memory against him. The first time he tried this was on a guard who came into his holding cell. Quon took the guard’s thoughts, memories—his entire identity, really—and walked right out while the man stood there in a zombified stupor. Quon did this to everyone he saw—anyone who attempted to approach him. He sucked their minds dry. Then he went to the rest of the astronauts, unlocked their doors, and set them free. Shen left the cell with Quon and the rest of the crew and escaped the compound. A clean and simple getaway. Not a single soul was able to stop them. Quon manipulated a man into driving them away from the site, and they got as far they could.”

The robot sat forward in his seat. Gideon and I leaned forward too, entranced by the tale we were being told. As he spoke, all my unanswered questions played through my mind. The glowing ball in the sky—the one in our dreams—had that been that second earth, trying to make contact with us?

“They tried to find their way to their homes,” Father continued, “but they had no homes. Their families had either died or moved on. Earth was a relic, forty years out of time, the museum of a place they used to know. Upsetting, as you can well imagine. Some of them handled it better than others, but Quon was entirely indifferent to the news of his dead wife. He felt nothing, Shen said. Quon no longer entertained what he called ‘infantile emotions’. Instead, he became obsessed with taking memories, saying that they empowered him. He acquired an incredible wealth of new knowledge because of his ability. New ideas. Feelings. Dreams. Secrets. The complex identities of total strangers became his to do with what he wished. Though the rest of the crew could do the same thing, they knew how inherently dangerous it was to indulge in such parasitism. They tried to talk him out of taking any more memories, but Quon wouldn’t listen. He didn’t see it that way. To him, this was no longer the world he’d once cared about. Everyone had moved on without him, so why should he care?”

There was a rap on the conservatory door. Mother was standing there, smiling, holding a tray.

“Sorry to disturb you gentlemen,” she said. “I’m shutting down for the day, and I thought I’d bring some tea to flush out all that awful whiskey before bed.”

Father smiled warmly at Mother as she put the tray on the table between us.

“Tea’s the horrible stuff,” Father said. “It’ll rust your insides.”

Mother kissed him on the cheek, wished him goodnight, and turned to us.

“There are clothes on the beds in the spare room. They used to belong to Shen. I don’t know if they’ll fit, but see what you can do. Good night, Gideon. Goodnight, Kayle.”

We thanked her, wished her goodnight, and she left the room. Father sighed as he watched her go, then settled back in his chair.

“Shen went back to his old apartment but there were other people living there,” he continued. They knew nothing of his wife, Hua. He tried to find her telepathically, but came up with nothing. She was dead. Buried somewhere, probably. He was alone. So he left that city and travelled a great distance before coming here. He found this house abandoned and fixed it up. After that, he made us. He made me first. He used his engineering skills to build me, and his new knowledge of the mechanics of the mind to infuse my molecules and matter with … well, consciousness. He gave me a wife and then my children. I suppose we became the family he always wished he could have had. I’ve been under no illusions. I’ve known that since the beginning.”

I finally understood why it was these robots behaved like humans. The fact that they wore clothes and ate regular food was all part of Shen’s plan. A plan to live as normal a life as he could with as normal a family as he could create. These robots were designed to love and be loved. We’d only been there a night and I was already forgetting they were machines at all.

“Shen and I were brothers, I’ve always believed,” Father said. “He was a human, I’m a machine, but those are trivial details. We were family.” He gestured at the table. “Please, help yourself to tea.”

I poured a cup and handed it to Gideon, and then poured one for myself.

“My wife and I were designed to exist as is. We can’t grow old, or change … or evolve, but Shen was kind enough to give my children those capabilities. They’re self-replicants, you see. The first two of a kind, I believe. They’ll learn and grow and one day, they’ll become adults. They’ll have to choose their own paths. Many parents believe their children are unique, but I’m proud to be able to say mine truly are. One day they’ll make their way into the world on their own. They’ll have to fight to be accepted and respected, I suppose. Just like everyone else. In the meantime, we’re doing our best to prepare them for that day. You can understand,” he said.

“I can,” I replied.

“For a time,” Father said, “we were happy. Shen was happy. We lived here together and we did our best. But this didn’t last. Things changed. Shen began to wake from terrible nightmares, screaming, increasingly disturbed by something he was seeing. My wife and I tried our best to find out what was wrong. And for a while he wouldn’t tell us.”

The rain had stopped but there was low, faraway thunder. My tea was growing cold and I took a sip before putting the cup back on the table.

“One night he told us. He was shaking. My wife wrapped him in a blanket and seated him in that very chair. After he had calmed down, he told us that he had seen Quon in his dreams, what he was doing. Quon was plotting something terrible, he said. Quon had realised that the nine astronauts had each been given a portion of this ability to read and steal thoughts. They had come back to earth connected. And, this is the truly frightening part, Quon had learned that by taking their lives, he could assimilate that part of them. Quon was hunting down the astronauts, murdering them and acquiring their portion of the power. Shen said that he’d seen Quon do it, go from one astronaut’s home to the next, kill them each off. Shen could see it all, from Quon’s perspective and the victim’s.

“With every death Quon was becoming more powerful. So powerful, so impatient, so hungry for more knowledge, more memories, more feelings and secrets and identities, that he could no longer contain himself. In one dreadful sweep Quon took it all. Every memory of every human soul on this planet. It happened in a single wave, stretching across every corner of the globe. Instead of sharing the one viral thought that would have bound men, women and children to each other, he did the exact opposite—he stole it all for himself. The accumulated wealth of knowledge and skills and memories and abilities of the human race. In the end, it was Quon who caused the event you have come to know as Day Zero.”

I sat back in my seat. Father said nothing, waiting for us to digest his words. I could barely comprehend what I was hearing.

Billions of memories. Billions of lives.

One man. One man had them all.

“But there’s something else,” Father said. “Something I don’t want to tell you. It wouldn’t be right. I could tell you, but I think it would be better if you simply saw it for yourselves.”

“What?”

Father looked anxiously towards the door and sat forward. “I can show one of you,” he said, “if you wish to see it. It will not be easy, I must tell you outright, but I think it would be better.” He looked at me directly. “You have a mission, yes? A mission to find your son. But after I show you this, you will realise there is more to your mission than you know. Are you prepared to see it?”

I looked at Gideon, and he nodded.

“All right,” I said. “Show me.”

“Lean forward.”

The robot lifted his arm in the air above the table. His palm opened and his fingers became rigid claws.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Ready for what?”

“I must apologise in advance if my perceptions and opinions of the events were … rudimentary. I wasn’t quite as, well, mentally developed at the time. I assure you, however, the record of events is entirely accurate.”

“I don’t follow,” I said. Father didn’t explain himself. His hand came down over the top of my head and clamped on my temples and forehead. A charge rippled through my brain and a bright white light emptied the world.