“I love you, too,” she replied. “I’m not comfortable with all this pssi stuff. But I am trying.”
This seemed like the right time. “Look, I’ve been thinking.”
“Uh huh,” she sniffled.
I took a deep breath. “I’m not sure if we’re ready for kids yet, but maybe we could find out. Maybe we could take a half-step and get you more into the pssi system at the same time.”
“I’m listening.” She reached up to stroke my chin with one hand.
“What would you think about proxxids?”
She crinkled her nose. “Fake kids?”
“I’ve been talking to Jimmy and Patricia. I think it could be perfect for us.”
Silence settled, then: “I’m still listening.”
“They’re not just ‘fake kids.’ They take our actual DNA code, mix it together as if it were a real fertilization, and then simulate the developmental process to generate what our real little baby would be like.”
I took a breath, watching her carefully before continuing.
“You can pick traits, of course, like eye color, or more subtle stuff if you want, but that’s sort of the point,” I explained. “It’s like trying out a trial version of how our kids will look and behave.”
“Uh huh,” she replied skeptically. “Why don’t you just get them to send a bunch of mock-ups, and we can stick them up on the wall and pick a model we like?”
A hint of the wit I remembered from when we first met. Maybe the clouds were clearing.
“It’s not just that,” I added. “These things, you have to take care of them, just like they were real babies—feed them, burp them, put them to sleep. You get the full treatment, and that’s the point. You can see how your kid might behave at different ages before you have them, to make sure you’ll be comfortable with what you’re getting.”
“And why would I want to do this?”
“I thought that if we took care of a proxxid for a few weeks or months,” I answered, looking straight into her eyes, “we could see if we liked having a screaming kid around.”
“And then?”
“And then, if it felt right, we could have a real child. What do you think?”
She cuddled into me and looked up into my face. “Okay, Mr. Rick Strong, I’m willing to give it a try.”
A weight lifted from my chest.
3
Baby shower—I never really understood the term. Why did they call it a shower? Because they showered the mother with gifts? Weren’t they supposed to have these parties before the baby arrived? Anyway, I guess it didn’t matter, and I had to admit, he sure was a cute little sucker.
Our little Ricky had bright blue eyes—his daddy’s eyes.
The baby shower turned into a coming-out party for the Strong family on Atopia. The place was packed, and everyone was milling about our apartment with drinks in hand, chatting amiably in the entertainment space I had Echo create for us. The star of the evening, of course, was Ricky, our bouncing baby proxxid, who burbled and gurgled away in his mother’s arms.
Cindy positively glowed.
From the corner of one eye, I could see the blond dreadlocks of Bobby Baxter, Jimmy’s brother, through the crowd. Even in a pssi projection, he emanated a laid-back surfer vibe that seemed to warm up the room. He was making his way toward us with an attractive brunette in tow.
“Congratulations, Commander Strong!” he blurted out, extending his hand.
Smiling, I gripped his hand and shook it. “Thanks, Bob.” I wasn’t quite sure if everyone’s well-wishes were genuine, or if they were gently poking fun at our simulated life, our imaginary baby.
“Is Jimmy coming?” I asked.
Bob shook his head. “You’d know more than me, Commander.”
There was an awkward pause.
“And, of course, congratulations to the lovely new proxxid mother,” Bob laughed as he let go of my hand and leaned over to kiss my wife on the cheek.
I glanced past him to have a look at his date, who shifted uncomfortably, waiting to be introduced. The rumor mill was constantly circulating with stories about how Bob was wasting his life away, but he sure could pick his women.
“And this lovely lady is?” I asked, smiling at his date. She smiled back.
“Oh, ah,” mumbled Bob, “this is Nicky.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I said as I reached out to shake her hand.
“A pleasure,” replied Nicky, smiling radiantly.
Bob wandered off for a drink while my wife and I exchanged some pleasantries with his girlfriend. A few more women arrived and began mobbing Cindy to have a look at the proxxid.
She lifted him to me. “Here, could you hold him for a second, honey?”
“Sure.”
The group of woman all smiled, watching me awkwardly take hold of Ricky. Such a tiny package, so warm and soft. It was disarming to look down into his little face and see part of myself staring back up at me. I couldn’t help but smile.
“I’ll be back in a sec,” said Cindy as she released him. “I just need to get some juice.”
The baby let out a loud squeal as she left and wriggled in my arms. The overhead lights reflected brightly in his wet little eyes. He smiled a toothless, gummy grin at me.
When we’d ordered the proxxid, it had come with some warnings, but I had a hard time seeing how an imaginary baby could be dangerous. It certainly seemed to be doing Cindy a world of good.
Adriana, my slingshot lead at Command, stood beside me and poked Ricky gently in the tummy, tickling him to generate more squeals and giggles. “Just so sweet,” she whispered.
I couldn’t resist. “He sure is, just like his daddy.”
Adriana was the one with the sensorgy artist boyfriend. To me, it all seemed like pornography, but to them, well, I was just old.
“Look at those bright blue eyes. I hope you’ll get those same blue eyes when you have your real kid. So beautiful. He’ll be a lady killer!” she exclaimed, tickling his ribs again for more squeals. “What a happy boy!”
I laughed and began bouncing Ricky up and down a bit, thinking that this was what one did with babies. Perhaps it really was best to have a proxxid before attempting the real thing.
Cindy returned and tapped me on the shoulder, taking a sidelong glance at Adriana. “I’ll take him back now, tiger.” She nodded toward the door, where Vince Indigo, the famous founder of the Phuture News Network, had just appeared. He’d gone out of his way to welcome us here when we first arrived.
He looked awful, as if he hadn’t slept in days, but smiled at me as I looked his way.
I gave him a small wave, then cooed at Ricky one more time before handing him back to my wife. I walked over to say hello to Vince and grab a drink. I could use one, and I knew from experience that he enjoyed a drink or two himself.
“Congrats, Rick!” he exclaimed as I neared, reaching out to shake my hand.
I took his hand firmly and motioned him over to the bar. Again, I felt slightly foolish. “Thanks, Vince. Oh, and thanks for those flowers the other day. Cindy really loved them.”
“No problem at all.”
We’d reached the bar.
“So what’ll it be?” I asked.
Vince surveyed the bottles but shook his head. “Nothing for me, thanks.”
That’s odd.
“You sure?” I dropped some ice cubes into a cut-glass tumbler and topped it off with some whiskey.
“I’m kind of busy.… ” His voice trailed off and he stared at the floor.
Definitely not the Vince I knew. What’s going on? Maybe he was trying his best not to offend me, thinking this whole thing ridiculous.
“This is just a little game,” I laughed, looking toward my wife and simulated baby. “I’m only doing it to keep her happy; you know how it is.”