something catch in her throat. She hadn’t been called Tickle since the age of seven. It even softened her heart for one instant, and then she turned it into stone again. “You’ve been doing some research, Arthur,” she said. “It’s not going to work with me.”
Arthur lunged from his chair, but Camus grabbed him around the chest and held him tightly.
“Stop it, Arthur! If you want to speak to me again, you’ll sit right down and be quiet. Tantrums are not excusable for a man your age. Do you want me to be ashamed?”
Arthur sat down as if struck. A tear rolled down one cheek.
Annie glared at Blanche. “You always were good at goading people, but you were a coward when it came to standing up to me, so don’t try it. Yes, I want to convince you I’m what’s left of Helen; I’m most of her, in fact, if you take away the physical form. I could spend hours reciting things only you and I would know, like the time you bit me when I wouldn’t let you play with my dolls. We didn’t even tell Mother about that. And then there was the time I caught you and your weird friend Ellen doing some interesting things with the little Waltham boy in our garage. I bet the details of that would perk things up in this hearing.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” shouted Blanche, standing, and shaking a fist.
“I would dare, but I won’t, so sit down, Blanche,” said Annie. She stood up, stepped forward and leaned over, as if peering into a camera lens. “It would be fun to watch you squirm again. Without me around, I bet you’ve been running roughshod over everyone. Want to hear something funny? I’m enjoying myself right now. I’ve missed our fights; they’re stimulating.
Blanche’s eyes filled with tears. “I haven’t missed them at all. I haven’t missed you at all.”
“Oh, that was supposed to hurt, but it didn’t. You miss me plenty, Tickle. Sisters know. It’s one of the reasons you’re so angry. Wow, the memories are still coming. I bet I could synthesize a somewhat younger version of you, and we could fight all the time right in my living room. Fred wouldn’t mind. He got used to it a long time—”
“Ladies, ladies, please!” said Judge Maxwell. “There are important questions to be answered here, and you’re not answering them.”
Maxwell wasn’t smiling this time. Blanche wondered if he saw through the sham of what Arthur was doing with his machine, the way his creature was making her look like a vicious, old fool. Her hands were shaking. It was just like her fights with Helen over all those years. So real, so real....
“Question one,” said Maxwell. “How did Helen Winslow die?”
“A blackout, like I said, only this one brought me here. I’m told there was massive bleeding in my brain,” said Annie. She sat down on her couch again, and crossed her legs.
“All right. Question two: why was Helen’s head preserved by freezing, and the rest of her body separated from it?”
Annie thought for a moment. “Well, I remember it said in the contract my body could be used in any way to help the AINI project. Only the head was important, really; there was some data downloaded right after I—I should say Helen—died. Helen’s last image of Arthur was there. Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie. I have to be Annie to answer the questions, but you know who I am.”
Arthur was crying, his face buried in a handkerchief.
“Separating Helen’s body wasn’t a cost-saving measure?”
“Well, it saved money, but the body was worthless, all used up, nothing left to revive. No matter, now. I’m here, and I have my Fred, my Arthur. We talk whenever we want to, don’t we, hon?”
Tears were running down Arthur’s cheeks. He nodded his head, smiled, and blew his nose loudly in the handkerchief.
“He keeps us right in his living room,” added Annie. “It was worth the extra cost, but there’s where I got into trouble with Blanche. I never thought she’s miss a couple of million; she always had more than Fred and I. I just got over enthused about the project, I guess. I was wrong. I was wrong because I promised Blanche the money for her foundation. But then the blackouts started, and Arthur was so upset and alone, and we—we just wanted to be together, at least until he finds that special girl.”
Arthur began blubbering again. Everyone in the room avoided eye contact with each other.
“Dear God,” said Blanche.
Annie bristled. “Oh shut up, Blanche. I don’t expect you to understand, but there is nothing stronger than the love of a mother for her only son. You never had children because you didn’t want them. I did, so try to respect that.”
Her voice had risen in pitch. Her male companion came into the room, walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently. “The ice is melting. I miss you.” He kissed the crown of her head.
Annie put her hands on his, and pointed directly at Blanche. “See anyone there you recognize?”
The man looked closely. There was no doubt in Blanche’s mind that she was looking at an image of Fred Winslow from at least thirty years before he’d died.
“Is that Blanche? How did she get to be so old?”
Again that husky laugh. “I’ll explain later, sweet. Pull the cork. I’ll be there in a minute. Kiss, kiss.”
He kissed Annie delicately on the mouth, and went away.
Annie gave Blanche a sultry look. “More upgrades coming, but he’s already quite a man. I’ve kept him waiting long enough, so let’s get to it, Blanche. I’m Helen whether you like it or not, but I’m also a damn good AI. The judge here isn’t going to help us. There are too many precedents involved: legality of AI testimony, the AI as a legal substitute for a human, dead or alive, et cetera, et cetera. I don’t think he cares to appear in the legal journals that many times. Is that an accurate statement, Your Honor?”
“That is a reasonable approximation of what I’m thinking,” said Maxwell, looking vaguely amused.
“So it’s you and me, Blanche. How much will it take for you to drop all this mess? Two million? Three? How about four? That’s tops. Otherwise you’re going to trial, and there isn’t a jury around that’s smart enough or imaginative enough to believe I am who I say I am. And you will get nothing.”
Blanche looked at Arthur. “I’ll write a check for whatever amount Mother says, and make it payable to your arts foundation in the names of my parents,” he said.
Randal shrugged his shoulders, and wiggled an eyebrow at her. The rest of the lawyers at the other table looked away. There was a long silence, horrible for everyone who waited.
“Three million,” said Blanche.
“Write the check, Arthur,” said Annie, standing up and smoothing her robed hips with her hands. “I’ll talk to you tonight. Right now I have a date with your dad. Blanche, do come over for tea sometime. We must stay in touch, and Arthur will set up the machine for you, won’t you dear?”
Arthur nodded numbly, not obviously pleased with the request.
“We should talk more often, and I’d really like to see how your foundation plays out. It’s good for me to keep up a variety of interests, now that I have so much time. Promise you’ll come soon?”
Blanche moved her lips, but could not bring herself to answer.
“Bye, then,” said Annie, and left the room. Arthur turned off the machine, and the white room with red furnishings was gone. Annie was gone—and so was Helen.
“Let the record show the parties settled this matter out of court,” said Maxwell, looking pleased and relieved. “This hearing is ended.”
Everyone filed out of the courtroom. Arthur waited for Blanche at the door. “You’ll have the check in a day or two,” he said, then, “You know, Mother was really