Building Baby Brother (continued)

Josh’s eyes lit up. I have to admit, so did my ego.

“Dad!” he shouted again. “This is so cool!”

He began walking around the edge of the workbench. For several long moments, Josh studied everything about my creation.

Its hair was artificial, but was close enough to the real thing that you had to look twice to notice. I had also given it eyebrows and eyelashes. The latter in particular had taken many more hours to get right than I would have imagined. I think I now have a little bit of a better understanding why it takes some women so long to get ready to go out.

Cautiously, Josh stroked the thing’s cheek with one finger. It flexed slightly beneath his touch. This close, it was a poor facsimile to human skin, and was immediately recognizable as fake, but it should pass muster from a moderate distance. It was one of the cosmetic issues that I had finally decided could be refined later.

His gaze swept over the still form. I dressed it in some clothes that Josh had outgrown the season before, hoping to be spared any potentially embarrassing questions about anatomical correctness. To be honest, I had considered dealing with that in my design, and then promptly demoted it as a very low priority.

He paused and looked across the workbench at me. His eyes remained wide with wonder.

“What does it do?”

I smiled. I couldn’t help it; I felt good.

“Whatever you want,” I told him. “It’s programmed to respond directly to your voice.”

Josh turned his head to study its face.

“Really?”

I nodded, grinning.

“Tell it to wake up.”

His eyes widened.

“Wake up!” he called to it, a bit louder than I think he meant to.

For several moments, nothing happened.

Josh’s smile faded and looked back at me. Disappointment was evident in his ice-blue eyes.

I began to frown, and then fidget.

Oh crap. Not now . . .

I turned to check the displays that monitored its inner workings, and then heard the soft, almost inaudible sounds of its internal systems coming to life.

I allowed myself a small smile, knowing what would happen next, and turned back to the platform.

Its eyelids opened, closed, and then began blinking in the random sequence that I had programmed for them.

“Josh?”

It spoke in a little boy voice—slightly flat, but unmistakably that of a child.

I had spent a long time trying to find just the right one. In my mind, I knew what it should sound like, but finding it, and then modifying it to my satisfaction, took a great deal more time than I had expected. I had nearly given up several times, but kept returning to search again—usually in the very early hours of the morning. Of all of the features I had worked on, it was probably the one that caused me to experience the most sunrises.