Building Baby Brother (continued)

The day came even sooner than I expected. I suppose, though, that any day would have been too soon.

His system logs were showing an increasing number of I/O errors. They appeared to come at random intervals. This implied to me that, despite what the diagnostics showed, one of his data control systems was in danger of suffering an imminent and serious failure.

I took him down to the workshop with the intention of, if necessary, opening him up for a closer look at his internal components. As I began to connect the first cable, Gavin spoke.

“That is unnecessary.”

“Oh?” I didn’t bother to keep the sarcasm from my tone.

‘Yes,” he replied flatly. “It is expected.”

I looked at him in annoyance.

Before I could speak again, he added, “I have exceeded the capabilities of this body.”

My heart sank as I understood.

I started to reply, but was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. It would be Carolyn bringing Josh back after their weekend together. I had trouble believing that the timing was a coincidence. With a sharp look at Gavin, I headed upstairs to let them in and bring them back down to the basement.

Although the similarity was barely there in the details, I was surprised upon our return just how much my workshop resembled an intensive care unit. Cables of differing types ran from Gavin’s body to various diagnostic and monitoring systems. All that seemed to be missing was the rhythmic beep-beep of a cardiac monitor.

All of these preparations were completely unnecessary for what Gavin intended to do. He could have accomplished it just as easily from a remote location. It was almost as though he wanted the same type of symbolic closure that we did. Or perhaps he simply understood that we needed, so went along with the ritual for our sake.

Carolyn hung back near the stairway. She was close enough to watch, but far enough way not to be directly involved in the proceedings. I had been surprised when she had told me that she wanted to be there. Despite my misgivings, there was no good reason for me to refuse. It would be, I finally decided, for both of us to be there with Josh when it happened.

Josh stood on one side of the workbench, near Gavin’s head. I stood on the opposite side, down toward his feet, but had trouble remaining still. I kept moving away to check displays and adjust settings on the monitoring equipment. For the moment, thought, everything was as it had always been.

Gavin’s eyes stared toward the ceiling, although they blinked as they normally did. He seemed to know that I was looking at him when he spoke.

“Do not attempt to reactivate my physical body.” Even without significant inflection, his voice sounded pleading.

I felt a guilty start. I had been considering exactly that, somehow thinking that maybe if I did, he might want to return.

“Why not?”

“Because it will no longer be me. It can no longer contain who I am.”

“I can expand still it, you know,” I offered weakly, knowing it wasn’t really what he meant.

“Yes, you could,” he admitted. “But my knowledge and abilities are expanding so rapidly now, that by the time you might achieve any significant improvements, I will likely have grown beyond it once more.”

“Kind of like buying new shoes for Josh,” I whispered, fighting for a faint smile.

“The idea makes me . . . uncomfortable.”

The admission startled me.

Never before had Gavin expressed anything that even remotely resembled an emotional reaction. There were certainly times when I read emotional overtones into what he was saying, but that was just me wanting to see something that wasn’t really there.

“I think I understand.”

It would weird me out—probably in ways that I couldn’t even imagine.

“I can help you,” he said.

I felt myself frown. “With what?”

“To ensure that my body cannot be reactivated.”

I considered this for a while. I wondered how he might accomplish this, but suffered no illusions that he was fully capable of doing so.

“Okay,” I agreed softly

Even with my promise in place, I knew the temptation would be there. I could replace almost any component in his body, but it wouldn’t be Gavin.

For a long time, no one said anything. I checked the monitors, finding nothing extraordinary there. Josh was silent, remaining where he could see Gavin’s face. Carolyn sat on the stairs, her eyes moving constantly between all of us.

The silence seemed to become a tangible thing as Gavin turned his head toward Josh.

“It is time,” he said.

He raised one hand and Josh gripped it tightly. Had Gavin been flesh and bone, I’m certain he would have grimaced with discomfort. Instead, his head only moved back to face the ceiling.

I heard Josh’s breath catch. I glanced toward Carolyn. She sat in the shadows of the stairway, her arms crossed against her chest. Her stoic expression was betrayed by the bright sparkle of her eyes. I swallowed, forcing down a feeling of utter helplessness. It was going to happen, regardless of what I said or did.

Gavin closed his eyes.

There was no other visible change in his body. I sensed that he was gone—off to where he now resided in the roaming electrons of the worldwide network. Several of the status displays flashed warnings, while others went blank. I ignored them all.

And, as quickly and quietly as that, it was over.