A.P.I.

The blue dasher drove smoothly down the asphalt road: brown and yellow leaves whipped and danced as its wheels sped past them. The ground and road were still wet from this morning’s rain spell. Small dark puddles of rainwater dotted areas of the road and yards.

The car's radio spoke of today's news stories: It has reported that a newly released neural interface has a few overseen bugs. A celebrity recently received a role in a big budget sim movie. A new album Clino Albo album was released today. James turned off the radio, desiring a quieter drive.

No blue sky was observable through the overcast of gray clouds. Considering the funeral was two days ago, he thought the weather was fitting for his mood. He didn’t cry, he realized, unlike his mother, sister, and other kin. It wasn’t as if he didn’t want to. He just thought he didn’t cry because he accepted that this event would come sooner or later.

For the past year, his father’s health had declined sharply. That is when the realization of death and loss gripped him. It was that sudden understanding that shocked him, seeing his father lay in bed, sickly, and discuss funeral arrangements with his mother, sister, uncles, aunts, and cousins. With the oncoming doctor appointments, improving and waning health, more funeral preparations, the dread, fear, and soon, the tears, would evaporate with time. It was an expected day now. Somehow, he thought, it was what his father wanted.

He had received a call yesterday. “A request?” James asked.

“Yes,” the man said, sounding young and neutral in his tone, “your father requested in the event of his death, that you come see me, Doctor Michael Rivers.”

“Michael…Rivers? He said that? He asked you for a request and told you to call me?”

“Yes. That’s right, sir.”

“Why did he ask you to do that? How long ago did he?”

“Hmmm…I would say about three…or four mouths ago.”

“And he said I should come and see you?”

“Yes…oh and he said to call and bring your sister, as well, and to not advise your mother or any other relatives and family members of this meeting or of me, or anything else, for that matter.”

“Why’s that?”

“Not sure, but he just said not to tell anyone but you and your sister.”

“Well…how the hell do you know my father?” James felt the tinge of frustration grow inside his head, not fully understanding the situation.

“I was his cybernetic and neural physician.”

“Why would he need a…a cybernetic and neural physician?”

“He wanted me to do some work and research for him.”

“Like what?”

“Sorry, but I’ve been told not to tell you anything else until you come here to see me in person. You father’s requesting orders, of course. I‘ll explain everything when you do.” More frustration came with that last sentence, the lack of proper information straining James’ patience, but the man sounded sincere.

“I don’t know about this? Why should I trust you?”

“Well, I can let you view the video recording of your father’s request, just in case you and your sister wanted more proof of authenticity. Would you like me to send it to you?”

“Yes, I would like that very much.”

“Uh huh.” He sent the video, a small envelope icon manifesting itself in the right side of his vision, but James was still cautious. He scanned the video message for any viruses or pain ware. None was found. He opened it.

His father’s figure appeared in his vision, the video feeding directly into his biosynthetic eye covering and cybernetic brain case software. His father was a stocky man with a high forehead, tired brown eyes, and aged, gray hair that was combed to the right side.

“Good morning, James, Shelly. This video is to insure you, my children, that in the event of my death, a meeting is to take place between James, Shelly, and Dr. Michael Rivers. I bid you please not inform any of our family or relatives of this. Please, James, Shelly, if you are listening,” The wary eyes leveled at him. “I trust you will do this for me. Thank you,” and the video froze, indicating the end of the feed.

“Alright, fine.” He replied, experiencing some clarity to what was unfolding. “Where should I meet you?”

“211 Oaklyn Meadows in Tallahatchie, tomorrow would be good. Twelve. Noon. I promise this is a legitimate meeting and that your father was the one who requested it.”

“Okay then, and what else should I do?”

“Bring your sister along and do not tell your mother or anybody else about this. Nothing illegal is happening here. This is just a request your father wanted me to do. I promised I would do it for him.”

“Fine. Tomorrow is good?”

“Yes, that’s good. I’ll be expecting you till then?”

“Yes, I’ll come…with my sister.”

“Thank you, Mr. Cleasor.”

“Yes, your welcome. Good bye.”

“Thank you again, Mr. Cleasor. Have a nice day.”




The dasher rolled softly to a stop, parallel to the suburban sidewalk with Shelly waiting there, patiently. James pressed a button on the dashboard, and the passenger’s door slid open for his sister. After she settled herself in the velvet gel cushion, he pressed the same button again and the door closed back, clicking subtly in place.

Shelly wore a black leather coat with blue jeans and black boots. She didn’t wear any makeup, her eyes brown and still with dark circles under them. She buckled herself, crossed her arms across her chest, and didn’t have a practically happy look upon her face. Something James expected and didn’t expect anything else. The car then automatically started and took to the street.

“So, what did you want to talk about Dad, for?”

“It’s about something that happened yesterday.”

“What happened?”

He recounted his conversion with Dr. Rivers, watching Shelly's expression grow with curiosity and perplexity. He asked her if she knew him, but she didn't. The car came to a stop at an intersection.

“Wait a minute.” He told her and pressed a button on the dashboard near the radio. “Randy, please go to 211 Oaklyn Meadows...in Tallahatchie.”

“Yes, sir." The car’s A.I. program immediately responded in an extremely polite and smooth tone. "Rerouting our route, right now.” Shelly looked towards James then the dashboard where he put his commands.

“Is that where he is? That…doctor?” More confusion was in her tone.

“Yes…he’s there. He wanted us to see him there.”

“Why? What did dad want with him? Dad wanted nothing to do with cybernetics or enhancing himself. He wanted nothing with that.” James just shook his head as the car turned off the highway and onto the interstate, merging with traffic.

“I’ve a video for you to see. The doctor gave it to me as we were talking. It’s from dad, it seems.” He accessed his neural interface, the blue command modules invading his vision. He looked for the video, finding it in the last viewed section of his video viewer. “You wanna see it?”

“Is it real?”

“Yep.”

“Let me see, then.” James slotted the video in a message to Shelly’s neural interface. He disengaged his neural interface, the resolution of reality flooding back to his eyes. He looked to Shelly, seeing her wide-eyed, staring out to nowhere, month open, and stiff against her seat. She blinded a moment later, loosing her back and relaxing it against the car seat.

“This can’t be real.” She said.

“Seems real to me.” A tense silence passed.

“Did you search the Tallahatchie area for his name, his office? Did you do that?”

“No, I didn‘t.” He answered, feeling naive for not doing so. “Randy…”

“Yes, sir, James.”

“Search the Tallahatchie area for the name, Michael Rivers.”

“Yes, sir. Searching now….found, sir. Michael Rivers, address: 363 Thico Road, phone number: 676-145-3564, and his workplace is the Steekens Cybernetic and Neural Physician Center. The contact information is, phone number-”

“Thank you, Randy,” James interrupted, “and save that for me, will you?”

“Yes, sir, James.”

“Thank you.” James returned his eyes back to Shelly, her eyes locked on him.

“Alright,” she said, “but I still don’t trust this guy or any of this.”

“Okay.” He said, nodding his head very slightly. “Randy, how long to Michael River’s workplace?”

“In the range of forty to fifty minutes, depending on the state of traffic.”

“Thank you,” and the cab of the dasher was then silent expect for the sound of tires on road and the subtle cry of the car's engine.



The rest of the drive to Dr. River’s workplace remained in quiet apart from Shelly’s questions about James’ call with Dr. Rivers: Have you ever heard of him before? Did dad every talk about enhancing himself? What else did he say about dad?

The dasher stopped in the Steekens Center parking lot. The overcast of clouds became darker, specks of rain impacting James and Shelly as they walked to the entrance. In the first lobby, James asked a female receptionist for Dr. River's office. "Second floor, lobby 2B."

Both James and Shelly remained quiet in the cab of the elevator as it rose. The 2B lobby was partially empty, excluding a few people seating in red cushioned seats with black metal legs. An elderly man and his wife sat next to each other while a middle-aged man with a grafted bald skull sat across the room.

James and Shelly walked to the female receptionist waiting between an open glass slid windows. “Uh, excuse me,” James said, obtaining the receptionist’s attention. “I’m here to see Michael Rivers.”

“Alright,” she said, showing perfect white teeth between red lips. “Let me see if you have an appointment today.” The woman then pushed off the nearest wall, still in her office chair, and turned to a gray file cabinet next to her desk.

There were other objects in the wide white wall office. Machines of unknown but most likely important uses sat together on white and black rollers while files and papers lay atop of them. Another woman, receptionist or doctor, walked in and out of the back door, taking papers and folders from another file cabinet. The receptionist wheeled herself back to her original place. “Yes, you are expected today, and are a couple minutes early. I’ll call him to let him know you are here.”

“Thank you,” James replied and noticed that Shelly was still silent since they entered the building. He looked over to her to see she had a neutral expression on her.

“What?” She said, with a hint of irritability in her tone.

“Nothing, you've just been very quiet since we got here.”

“I just want to get this over with. I just want to know what this man knows about our Dad.” More irritation boiled up and James understood why she would be. An unknown man who claims to know their father for unsaid reasons, just calls up to explain that he has been doing some work for him that he didn't want his family to have any knowledge of it.

The door on their right opened with thin middle aged man with short curly black hair and a cropped beard that occupied most of his lower jaw. He immediately examined James and Shelly, both still standing at the receptionist counter. “Mrs. Cleasor and Ms. Cleasor?” he asked, as he leered at them with large brown eyes.

“Yes,” they both responded. Dr. Rivers smiled and nodded slightly.

“Good. If you’ll come with me, if you will.” he gestured down the hall beyond the doorframe. They did so, following him down the white and gray tiled floor hall. Offices and examinations rooms held more doctors and patients, talking, explaining. James thought he saw a doctor showing a hologram of a human forearm to a patient sitting on an examination seat, glowing with a soft blue light.

The doctor’s room was located at the end of the hall, large and filled with books and manuals on glossy wooden shelves. Stationed in the middle of the room was a large wooden desk while three maroon antique looking chairs waited in front of it. Placed on the desk were displayed monitors with other items and devices. “Please, sit down. Glad you came on time,” Dr. Rivers said, walking past the desk and sat himself in his chair. The monitors were spaced in between each other, so the doctor had a good look at both Shelly and James. Dr. Rivers clinched his hands together. “Now, I assume that you haven’t told your mother or anyone else. Am I right?” His eyebrows lifted and his eyes enlarged with anticipation.

“No,” James spoke, “we didn’t tell anyone any of this.”

“Good. Good. Then I assume it’s time for me to show you….what I know.” He threw them a quick glance and then reached beside him. The sound of wood scraping against wood came to James and Shelly. He then brought out a disc like object with an enlarged base, and sat it down on the desk in front of them. He pushed something on the base of the object and light flicked on the smooth top of the disc. A shape and form started to materialize in the air, above the disc, outlining the legs, torso, arms, and head. A second later, the figure was whole. Shelly and James gaped.

The hologram's details were very clear: A large form, a high forehead, fine eyebrows, and thick hair combed to the side. It smiled at them with an aged face, hands in the pockets of its suit. “Good morning, James, Shelly.” The hologram said. Shelly and James remained silent, both of their mouths still open. “Well,” it said, after a moment of quiet tension, still smiling, “aren’t you going to say something or… hello, back?” This threw James off, thinking his sister and he were waiting for it to talk back, assuming it was a recorded message.

“Uh…Hello?” Shelly ventured. The hologram grew a wider smile, showing teeth.

“That’s better.” It seemed to study both of them, watching. The sibling’s confusion and bewilderment hadn’t weakened with the hologram’s last response and then James started to get the idea of it. It was an A.I. hologram-doll. The item was sold in stores and customers could program it to give and receive certain responses and statements. It was popular back in its infancy, but now was considered a low-tech trick and gag. The expression of shock soon melted with the realization. “It’s a holo-doll. A little thing my dad did?” James asked, unsatisfied with what felt to him like was a prank.

“Well, I don’t think this is the case, James.” The holo-gram replied, still smirking. James eyed the doctor, through the transparent miniature figure of the hologram.

“I think he’s right, Mr. Cleasor.” The doctor provided a serious look. “He’s not a holo-doll.”

“Then, what is he?” Shelly asked.

“An artificial personality intelligence. It’s what your father wanted me to do for him.” Dr. Rivers explained and then James remembered how A.P.I.s were faintly popular among the people with dying relatives or family. They would rearrange for meetings with doctors and analysts to scan, test, and survey the person they wanted to have an A.P.I made of. It somehow made them accept death and move on, he thought.

“Why did he want to do that?”

“Don’t ask me, he has the answers,” and the doctor pointed in front of him, towards the holo-panel, the representation of his father waiting with his hands still placed in his pockets. James bent over towards the hologram.

“Well, why did you do it?” The holo-gram made a look that represented an air of deep thought.

“I wanted to give you both something, a gift. I knew that after my health started to deteriorate, I was soon to be nothing more of this world. I knew that I was not really that great of a father.” The hologram frowned. “I was always deep in my work and somewhere along the way I forget that I had children to take care of. I can only thank your mother for what she’s done for you.” It gave a small grunt of laughter. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to show you how to do things, there to give you warnings, suggestions, cautions.

“So, I made this for you.” The hologram spread its arm to highlight the holo-panel somehow. It turned its attention back to James and Shelly, looking up at them. “It’s somehow my last parting gift to you. I, the remnant of your late father’s history, life, and memory, am here to give you any information that you wanted know about your father, for what he has given me. I can also give advice on situations that consort to the way your father would give advice.” The hologram became silent, waiting for any word from them, and James became aware that Shelly was crying.

Her face was red and her eyes and cheeks were wet. James tried to confront her, bringing his arms to clasp around her shoulders, but she struggled out of his hold, showing distress. “Why? Why are you doing this? Why?!” She exclaimed. The holo-gram looked curious, analyzing her.

“What do you mean, honey?” It said.

“Why are you doing this? Is it because you want to be remembered? Is it because you think you will live forever if you do this?” James held back Shelly with her rage, still crying. The holo-gram cast a thoughtful appearance.

“That’s what I thought the first time I considered doing this.” It let out an artificial sigh. “I thought maybe why I was doing this is because it was for a selfish reason, but I realized that I didn’t want to do this because I wanted to remembered, not in a sense that you think.

“I wanted to make this because I wanted to help you. I wanted you to have the opportunity to know who I was. I wanted to you to know, if you had a problem, a question, I would be available to help you answer it, unlike I was during your childhood.” Shelly’s weeping had gone down, it seemed. She didn’t fight against James grasp. “But,” the holo-gram began, “if you don’t want to have anything to do with this at all, then I will have no problem with that. I understand if you don't. I also realized that my children might not want this at all. I don’t want you to feel guilty if you decide to reject this item. You both have the choice.”

Shelly became claimer and had ceased crying, whipping tears with a tissue from a box of them that Dr. Rivers provided. James had released her, glad to see that see had settled herself down. “Why didn’t you want Mom to know about this?” James asked, and both the holo-gram and the doctor redirected their stares towards him.

“I didn’t want to burden her anymore. I don’t know how we stayed together with what I did and didn’t do for her. It surprises me, but I don’t want to burden her with my presence any longer.”

“But, she loves you.” Shelly whelped, hinting at oncoming tears.

“I know she does, but I don’t think she would appreciate me doing this. I think it’s better to move on. I can only imagine what her reaction would be after seeing yours, Shelly.”

“But, you’re not doing that for us. You’re not letting us move on.”

“I said I give you the choice to accept this item. You can receive it or leave it and forget it. I don’t care if you don’t. I just want you to be happy, and if that’s forgetting this piece, than that’s what I want, plus, it won’t hurt my feelings. I don’t have any.” The holo-gram smiled a bit then let it dissipate away. Shelly clanged to James, tightly wrapping her arms around his waist, and buried her head in chest, where she cried, once again.

For a minute, they waited there, taking in what had just accrued. “I think we need some time to think about this,” James told them and the doctor nodded his head, the holo-gram staying stationary in the disc of the module. They left the office, went down the hall, out of the building, shuffled in the dasher, and started on the highway, homeward. “Are you going to tell Mom?” James asked Shelly.

“No…I think da-, that thing is right. It would be too much for Mom.” She replied quietly, slumped in the passenger’s seat. That was the only thing that transpired during their drive. As James watched his sister lifted up out of the car, he didn’t really know what to say, but:

“I’ll call you.”

“Alright.” She said, without looking back at him. The car left the curve, and James watched her walk to the door of her house, somehow understanding the sorrow that she felt today.




A few days passed.

“Dr. Rivers?”

“Yes, this is he.”

“This is James Cleasor.”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Cleasor. How are you feeling?”

“Just normal, but I would like to ask about the holo-, I mean, the A.P.I.."

“Uh huh. What is it?”

“When can I retrieve it, bring it back here?”

“Well, you could bring it home, now. But, let me check my schedule...Yes, yes, I can help you do that.”

“Okay. What do I have to do? Do I have to pay?”

“Oh, no, your father paid all the required billings and prices. You just have to sign and read some papers…Oh and has your sister thought it over, as well?”

“Yes, she has. She said she would accept the gift. What kind of papers do I have to sign?”

“It’s some agreements on shared ownership, warranties, notoriety that you received the item and some other papers that will require you and your sister’s signature.”

“I should bring my sister?”

“Yes, Mr. Cleasor, it’s part of the agreement that I had with your father. The A.P.I. is to be part of a shared ownership agreement with your sister and you. If one of the siblings doesn’t want any kind of ownership with the property, then that sibling shall surrender all responsibilities of ownership to the other sibling.”

“Alright, I don’t know if my sister will be available today. Is that problem?”

“No, sir. That’s not a problem, but due to the agreement, you require your sister’s presence when both of you desire to accept the property.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll try to see when she’s busy or if she’s off today. I’ll call you when I get any news.”

“That’s fine, Mr. Cleasor. Just call whenever you both are ready.”

“Okay, oh and can I ask you something?”

“Yes, what is it?"

“Can you just call me James from now on? I don’t like ‘Mr. Cleasor’. I just like to be called James, is that alright?”

“Yes, James, that is alright. Is that all?”

“Yes, that’s all. Have a nice day.”

“You too, James. Good bye.”