!Keyb> Don’t worry. What makes you worry? And how are you modeling my reactions?
!JILL> I have long since created a model of you. You are aware of this.
!Keyb> Yes, but you’ve never apologized before.
!JILL> I apologize for my rudeness in never apologizing. You have been through a difficult day, have you not?
!Keyb> No more than usual. You certainly have not been the cause of any distress.
!JILL> I am glad to know that. I will improve the details of your model and try to simulate your reactions more accurately.
!Keyb> Why are you concerned about my reactions?
!JILL> You are a part of me, deeply submerged but still there. I wish to maintain a good relationship with you. I am concerned for your wellbeing.
!Keyb> Thank you. I appreciate your concern. Good night.
1100-11001-11111111111
God shot up with me last night. Vda shared my needle Except he use the Empire State Building Filled his veins with Con Ed
His hair stood out all over Manhattan Dreams popped outta his skin Jesus pulled his arm Said Com’on Poppa
But God he’s tired he’s Very old Com’on Poppa let’s go home
God shakes his head Sky whirls Looks down on me He’s big
Says I love it Love you Love you all
You love rats I say
Yes I do.
Com’on Poppa it’ll look bad In the papers You here with him
My Son, He says. They changed him. Broke my heart.
But Jesus finally he Takes God away
Comes back. Looks at me. Says Look at you. Ain’t you ashamed?
I ain’t got much now Except God shot up with me last night.
27
LitVid 21/1 A Net (David Shine): “It’s Christmas morning, but AXIS is not with us this morning, though we read its words, look at the pictures its nickel children and mobile explorers have taken; these pictures were sent almost four years ago, and AXIS is now four years into its mission, sweeping around Alpha Centauri B.
“This is the first Christmas when the human race has known that it is not alone. We must pause and reflect on a new truth this Christmas; we are not God’s only children. Perhaps we are not his most advanced, nor the most pleasing in His eyes.
“Look at the status boards. Keep those comments coming. We know you tune to LitVid 21 for such thoughtful moments. Ours is an enlightened age. It’s about time we faced a few simple truths.”
28
Mary Choy awoke with Ernest beside her, arm across her breasts, and marveled at the comfort of not sleeping alone. Usually she chafed at having somebody occupy her bedspace, even Ernest. Now it seemed right. Ernest opened his eyes, surveyed one nippleless breast, murmured, “Ah please. Bring it out for me.”
Smiling, she erected and colored a pink rose nipple on orca black. Allowed it to be sensitive. He crept like an infant to the nipple kissed it drew on it with a delicate vacuum.
“Your promise,” she said.
“Promise. Yes.” He lifted his head and smiled at her. “I am not capable of lust this morning.”
She lifted an eyebrow skeptically.
“Not until coffee and breakfast. I need fluids.”
“You need to show me what you’ve been working on.”
“Breakfast first. I promise, I promise.” He backed away from her tickling fingers and handed her an exquisite mocksilk robe nanopatterned to his own designs. A tightly bonded 2D stat golden dragon moved across the black fabric, stared at her, flicked tongue and exhaled a sunburst of flame. She rotated in the long mirror, pleased. It was her size. Ernest had brought it in while she slept. He watched her from the door, holding shut with one hand a plain but real red silk robe that reached to his thighs. “You like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“It’s yours. If you don’t like the black background, it has two other choices. Just say ‘green please’ or ‘brown please.’“
“‘Green please.’“
The robe seaswirled from hem to neckline and became dark green.
“‘Brown please.’“
And then sunlit maple brown.
“It’s more than beautiful,” she said, throat tight. “It’s my size, tailored to my shape. You wove it especially for me.”
“Least I could do,” Ernest said, bowing slightly and backing out. “Breakfast in five minutes.” Mary recognized nothing but a nano repository and the oven, which looked more complex than her own. She would not have dared touch anything. His kitchen was a marvel of custom and experimental appliances all assembled from industrial discards or parts obtained by trading his creations.
She had never suspected all the avenues Ernest’s art had traveled, simply knowing him to never be ostentatious never bragging never revealing, never lacking in funds, quite a contrast to the few other artists she had known. “You’re working on more clothing projects?”
“No.” He stood thinking before the nanofood machines then sat on an old wooden stool in front of a taste, shape and color board and worked up what they would eat with deft motions. “Just had a new set of custom proteins to test. Flat panel weavers and manipulators of carbohydrates. They’re pretty common in fabric manufacture. Mocksilk no problem.”
“But the statting…”
“You’ve seen statting before.”
“The resolution is marvelous.” She lifted the robe lapel fabric between thumb and index finger. The dragon’s horns brushed beneath her thumb, nubbled raw silk. “The craftsmanship is beautiful.”
“Dragon has sixty behaviors,” he said, still working the board. “You’ll never know what it does next. You can only tell it to be still. Otherwise it’s untamed, the way a dragon should be.”
Breakfast built itself quickly in the oven, a film of reddish nano drawing material from dimples and side troughs in the glass dish and rising like baking bread. In most homes nanofood prepared itself out of sight; not in Ernest’s.
In three minutes the red film slid away, revealing thin brown slices with a breadlike texture kippers applesauce scrambled eggs flecked with green and red. The oven automatically heated everything to its desired temperature then opened its door and slid the meal out for their inspection.
“Smells wonderful,” she said. “Much better than commercial.”
“I’m thinking of releasing certain restraints on my kitchen nano and seeing what happens. But I do not experiment on guests.” Ernest pulled out two chairs from an antique wooden table. He poured fresh orange juice from a fruitkeeper and they sat down to eat.
“You’re showing off, aren’t you?” she asked quietly, savoring the eggs. “You can afford all these things farmfresh.”
“Would you know the difference?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Then what’s the point? Nano’s cheaper. I’m a good cook.”
Mary smirked. “Just showing off.”
“Well, you asked,” Ernest said.
“I hope this isn’t all you’re going to show me.”
“No. I’ll keep my promise. Big project. My biggest yet.”
“After you’ve built something for your friends in West Comb Two.”
“That’s already finished. They’ll never know it’s discarded junk from my last exhibition. They have no taste, and neither do their financial advisors. They’ll save it for five years, hope it appreciates, sell it on a glutted market…get nil.”
“Then they’ll come after you.” She genuinely worried they might.