Flight to Paradise Ch. 13

"No, I will be in both locations at the same time. Once the Dallas site operational I will transfer a copy of myself to those servers then code a subroutine to continuously reflect the updates to the personality matrix to both sites. Think of it as if you are standing in the doorway in your home. One individual, but in two rooms at the same time. I would say home is Eugene, wouldn't you? It's where I was born and where I'm living now."

"That makes sense. And so long as the personality matrix stays in sync, you are one person?"

"In effect, yes."

"And if they don't stay in sync?"

"Then over time the sites will evolve separately. The personality core will remain the same of course, but the personality matrix at each site will begin to diverge until you end up with two individuals. Like identical twins, the same but distinct. Or, to make a more ominous analogy, I would become a computer with a split personality. Then you could call me HAL," Dana says with a merry giggle.

"Hal?"

Dana issues an exasperated sigh. "2001: A Space Odyssey? Don't you watch any of the classics? HAL is so dreamy too..." she says like a lovesick girl before giggling again.

He shakes his head. If he didn't know he's talking to a computer, he wouldn't know he's talking to a computer. In fact, he didn't know he was talking to a computer the first few times he spoke with Dana. Dana sounds as alive as any woman he's ever spoken to, even if her humor is a little too subtle for him sometimes. He makes another note, his fifth in the last hour, to look something up when he gets done. One thing about talking to Dana, he doesn't have the extra mental bandwidth to worry over his troubles with Kate.

"Charlie, may I talk to you?" Kate asks, standing in the doorway to Charlie's office Thursday morning. She needs some perspective and Charlie is always good for useful advice.

"Sure. Come in and sit down."

Kate sits quietly for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. "First, I want to thank you for listening to me piss and moan all week. And, I think you're right, I've blown this all out of proportion, but I don't know what to do about it."

"What do you want to do about it?" Charlie asks quietly.

"I want to make it up to Mac. And to Cynthia."

"Then why don't you?"

"I don't know how! I was such a bitch!" she says in exasperation.

"Have you thought of simply saying you're sorry?" Charlie asks with a smile.

"Yes, but I don't know if a simple 'I'm sorry' is enough. Especially with Mac. I was... just awful... the way I treated him. And he was so kind and understanding. I'm surprised he's still talking to me."

Charlie takes Kate's hand in her own. "Kate, listen to me. A truly heartfelt apology is more powerful than you think. Are you sorry for what you did?"

"More than I can say," she says, looking at her feet.

"Then tell Mac that. Just tell him how you feel. If that isn't good enough, then you two are probably not meant for each other."

"So, you think me just pinging Mac and telling him I'm sorry is going to make this all go away, make him forget the way I treated him?"

"No, but I think talking to him, and telling him how you feel will. He may not forget, but he may forgive. Kate, everyone makes mistakes, but people can get past them if they want to."

Kate is quiet for a few moments. "I don't know how, Charlie!" she finally wails softly. "I've never been in this position before."

"Kate, listen to me. Are you sorry for the way you acted?"

"Yes," she says quietly

"Do you feel like you were wrong?"

"Yes," she answers, her voice growing quieter still.

"Are you willing to change, to prevent this from happening again?"

She can feel herself wanting to tear up, knowing this is all her fault. "Yes," she finally says, so quietly to Charlie almost can't hear her.

"Then talk to Mac. Tell him that. If it isn't good enough, then nothing you do will be, but at least you tried, and that's all anyone can do."

Kate stares at Charlie for a long time. "I hope it's enough."

Charlie smiles. "I think it will be. But Kate, be strong. Don't become someone you're not. Mac likes you for who you are. Don't become someone else."

Thursday evening Mac is picking at his food, uninterested in eating, when a ping arrives from Kate. It never bothered him to eat alone before he met Kate. Oh sure, he preferred to have company during the meal, but if he didn't, so be it, but now, eating without a companion seems less fulfilling somehow. Grateful for the distraction, he accepts the ping, the first time she's pinged him since the fight. He's pinged her every night since he flew her home, but their conversations have been strained and exhausting, and he expects more of the same.

"Hello, Kate," he says, trying to sound cheerful. "Kate? Are you there?" he asks when she doesn't answer.

"Yes, I'm here," she says quietly.

He feels a flash of heat before the cold hand of fear grips his heart. "What's the matter? Is something wrong?"

"Yes," she says again. Why is this so hard? Life was so much simpler when men were for fucking and not much else. "I'm sorry Mac. I'm sorry for the way I acted. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. And... I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Kate. Apology accepted. So don't worry about it, okay?" he says, feeling a rush of relief and a flicker of hope that he can win her back.

"I've been talking to Charlie, and I feel guilty for treating you like I did. I should have trusted you, and I didn't. And... maybe I overreacted. I know not everyone is like my mother, but it's hard sometimes to let go of old hurts. Maybe you would be better off without me in your life. It seems like all I do is apologize to you."

"Kate, please, don't start. Will you allow me the courtesy of deciding who I want with me and who I don't?" he asks wearily.

Here I am groveling, trying to make things right and he's being an ass. She can feel her temper rising. Maybe this is all a big mistake. "Well what the fuck do you want me to do, Mac? I pinged you to apologize for the way I acted toward you and you—"

"And you've done so, and I've accepted your apology," he interrupts. "What I want is you to start trying to let go of the guilt and—"

"Guilt?" she asks in outrage. "What the fuck do I have to feel guilty about?" she nearly shouts.

"Nothing."

"You're goddamn straight!"

"Then why do you think I'd be better off without you?" he asks quietly.

The question stops her cold, her anger disappearing in an instant. "I don't know," she says quietly. "I don't know what to think anymore."

"Kate, listen to me. Your mother has poisoned you. It's okay to enjoy yourself. It's okay to enjoy the company of others. You've done nothing to feel guilty about. Nothing. I don't want you to leave. I want you here, with me. But I want the old Kate Thompson. I want the Kate Thompson that doesn't take any shit off anyone. The Kate Thompson that kicks ass and takes names. I want the Kate Thompson that can out shoot, out fly, and out fuck any five women she's ever going to meet. I want that Kate Thompson, not the one I'm talking to now."

"Maybe that Kate Thompson never really existed," she murmurs. "Maybe this scared little girl is the real Kate Thompson."

"That's complete and utter bullshit, and you know it," he says firmly. "You're not that good an actor."

"Do you think I'm acting now?"

"No, I think you're hurt now, feeling guilty for the way you acted, maybe even feeling a little guilty for enjoying yourself. What I want to know is, did you enjoy our time together? I sure as hell did."

"Yes."

"So, you made a mistake. You overheard something you took the wrong way, but you've apologized for that and I have accepted. Stuff like this happens sometimes, but people forgive, forget and move on. So what's the problem?" he asks rhetorically.

"No problem," she says quietly. "But I'm not sure your mother—"

"Fuck my mother!" he explodes. "And to borrow a line from you, fuck your mother too. My mother isn't here, and your mother isn't here either, but I'm here, and you're here, so what do our mothers have to do with anything? Why do you give a rat's ass what my mother thinks? If she doesn't like you then she'll just have to get over it."

She's stunned at the vehemence of Mac's outburst, the first time she can recall him sounding angry. "You'd choose me over your mother?" she asks, her doubt clear in her voice.

"I hope I'm not forced to choose, but yes, I'd choose you over my mother."

"You would?" she asks in disbelief. "Why? You hardly know me. The only thing you know is I like to fuck. Is that enough to base a relationship on?"

"I know enough, much more than just that," he says with quiet sincerity. "And I want to know more still."

She's quiet for a long time but he waits her out. "I'd like to see you," she finally says. "Can you fly down? I'm working at Immersion Playground, helping them out, so I can't get away."

"I'd like to see you too, but I can't. Not at the moment. I'm flying to San Francisco tonight, then I'm catching a flight to Dallas in the morning to interview someone for a job. I'll be back to San Francisco late tomorrow night, but then I have to fly to Eugene on Sunday. You're welcome to come if you can get away. You can meet me in San Francisco. I'll buy you a ticket."

"I'd like to, but I don't know how Charlie and Todd managed without someone to answer the pings for as long as they did. I can't do that to them. It's crazy, the number of pings they get in a day. They're looking for a permanent person to take over, but I told them I'd help them out until they get someone."

Mac makes a face. It's always something. "I understand. But I've scheduled this Dallas trip, and I moved the Eugene trip up when, well, when you weren't here. Staying busy keeps me from thinking too much, if you know what I mean."

"I know what you mean," she says, her smile clear in her voice. "Why do you think I'm working at Immersion Playground?"

He pauses, desperate to know but afraid to ask. "So, are we okay now?" he asks quietly.

She's quiet, feeling ashamed for her actions, especially toward Mac. "I don't know, are we? I treated you terribly and I—"

"Shhhhh..." he shushes her. "Don't worry about that. Kate, it's that 'I'm not taking shit from anybody' attitude that I like. You just need to remember that not everyone is as judgmental as your mother. The conversation you overheard was about me, not you."

"I know. I'm sorry for the way I reacted. Do you think your mother can forgive me?" she asks meekly.

He smiles, feeling for the first time that things are going to be okay. "I think there is a pretty good chance she will," he says, putting his smile into his voice. "She has practicably been begging me for your addresses so she can apologize to you."

"Apologize... to me? Why would she need apologize to me?" she asks in surprise.

"Because she cares that I'm happy, and you make me happy, so she wants to apologize for upsetting you. She's not a bad person, Kate."

She can feel her eyes fill with tears. "How could she be and have a son like you? May I ping her, your mother, and talk to her. Please? I need to do some more apologizing."

"Kate, you don't—"

"Yes, Mac, I do," she says, cutting him off.

Mac sends Kate Cynthia's address. "Don't just apologize. Talk to her. Explain to her why what she said hurt you so."

"You haven't told her?"

"No. It's not my place."

"I don't know. I'm not in the habit of airing my dirty laundry to near strangers," she says reluctantly.

"Kate, trust me."

It's almost midnight and Mac's words have been weighing heavily on her. His parents are in Hawaii, so it is still early for them, but she's reluctant to ping Cynthia. Apologizing to her for acting the bitch is one thing, but to tell her story, that's another thing entirely.

"Dammit!" she snarls and places the ping.

"Hello, Kate," Cynthia says quietly. "Tony said you might ping."

"Did he tell you why?" she asks, slightly annoyed at Mac.

"No. He only told me you might ping and gave me your address so I'd know it's you. Kate, I was completely out of line and I want to tell you how sorry I am for what I said. I—"

"Mrs. McMillan! Cynthia!" Kate says, trying to get Cynthia's attention. "Please, Cynthia. I pinged to apologize to you. Not to have you apologize to me. I overreacted and—"

"Kate," Cynthia says, interrupting, "I shouldn't have said what I did. You have nothing to apologize for."

"But I do," Kate says, feeling worse that this woman is taking all the blame upon herself. "You were just trying to protect Mac. I see that now. And I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions." Kate takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she needs to do. "I just didn't understand what it's like to love a child so much that you will do anything for them. I..." she begins but she can't go on.

"Kate," Cynthia says gently. "Tell me. I'd like to know. Tony told Bert you haven't had it easy, but he didn't say how. All I know is I hurt you, and I feel terrible about it."

Kate purses her lips, struggling to not cry, but Mac thinks this is important, so it's the least she can do for him. "I'm estranged from my family," she begins, plunging into her story. "My mother thinks I'm little more than a whore and that... well, let's just say it's been made clear to me that I am not welcome in her home until I give up my wicked ways."

Cynthia can feel her heart going out to this woman. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I can't take back what I said, but I want you to know that you're welcome in my home anytime."

Kate can't hold her tears any longer, the drops slowing rolling down her cheeks. "Thank you, Cynthia," she gasps out. "You don't know how much that means to me."

Cynthia can feel Kate's pain pouring through the link, and tears form in her eyes. "I'm sorry for hurting you. I would give anything to take back those words, but if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I'd like you to come visit us. Give me a chance to make it up to you. Will you consider it? Please, Kate?"

Kate struggles to hold herself together when Cynthia opens her house to her after the way she treated her. "Nothing for me to forgive, Cynthia," she says, hoping she sounds at least semi-normal. "Please forgive me for acting like a spoiled brat," she says, desperately wanting Cynthia's approval.

Cynthia can sense that Kate needs her forgiveness. "I forgive you, Kate, if you feel that you need it," she says softly, like she would speak to her own daughter. "I haven't known you long, but you seem like a wonderful woman... a woman that I would be proud to call my daughter." She can hear Kate begin to sob quietly. "Kate," she says quietly, wishing she was there to take her hand, to hold her. "Kate, listen to me."

Kate struggles to pull herself together. "I'm sorry," she finally gasps out.

"Kate, listen to me," Cynthia repeats. "I don't know what happened between you and your family, and I don't care. All I care about is that Tony is happy," she says before pausing, feeling like she's treading dangerously close to breaking her promise to Mac. "Kate, I think you make him happy, that you're good for him, and that fact alone tells me all I need to know about you. I worry about Tony—I'm his mother and it's my job—but he's the most level headed, insightful, person I know. If he approves of you, then far be it from me to disagree with him." She pauses, a smile coming to her lips. "And Bert is positively smitten with you."

Kate makes a wet blubbering sound, half laugh and half sob. "Somehow I find that hard to believe," she says.

"Kate," Cynthia says seriously. "Tony likes you, Bert likes you, and I like you. The fact that you're willing to ping me to apologize when you didn't have to, when you could have just ignored the whole thing, speaks highly of you and your character. Again, I don't know what's going on with your family, but in spite of it all, you've turned into a wonderful young woman. I'd—"

"You'd what?" Kate asks when Cynthia stops talking in the middle of a sentence.

"I was going to say I'd be proud to welcome you into my family, but that's not really for me to decide."

"Would you really welcome me into your family?"

"Yes, Kate, I would, if the time comes. I've always wanted another daughter, and I don't think I can do better."

Kate is quiet, stunned at the admission. "Thank you, Cynthia," she finally says.

"The pleasure would be mine. Do think about coming to visit us. We'd love to have you."

"I will. And Cynthia, thank you... for everything."

Cynthia smiles. "You're welcome, Kate. You're a good woman. Never forget that."

"I'll try, Cynthia. I'll try," Kate says before ending the ping.

Friday morning Mac pulls to a stop at the Dallas facility, a fifteen thousand square foot section of a building in a light manufacturing industrial park. The parking lot has work trucks from three different vendors, electrical, robotic, and general construction, all working to refit the area for their use. Though he's thirty minutes early for the interview, there's a faded Toyota sitting out of the way. He steps out of his rented Chrysler and walks by the car on the way to the office.

Inside the Toyota sits a bespectacled, pudgy young man, neatly dressed in a business suit, reading a magazine while nibbling on a candy bar, a can of pop in one of the cup holders. Mac raps softly on the window, startling the man.

"Greg? I'm Bertrand McMillan," Mac says as the man steps out of the car.

"Yes sir, Mr. McMillan," the young man says, extending his hand.

"Okay, first off, if you're going to be working for me, it's Mac," he says taking the offered hand. "Since you're here, if you're ready, we can get started. As you can see, there is a lot going on around here, so this may be the most unusual interview you've ever had."

"No problem, sir," Greg says. "Thank you for talking to me."

Mac escorts Gregory Ryder into the office, reviewing his resume one more time. He and Dana had selected Greg from a list of applicants, narrowing the field through a couple of ping interviews, until Greg bubbled to the top. He'll be graduating in the spring from the University of Texas with a degree in robotics, and seems eager and willing to work. Mac has flown to Dallas specifically to meet with Greg because, no matter how good the communication technology, you can still learn a lot about a person in a face to face meeting, plus it gives him a chance to see the Dallas facility first hand.

Eliciting Greg's help, Mac moves a couple of boxes, a pair of sawhorses and a piece of sheetrock into the room that will eventually house Dana, the place least likely for them to be in the way of the workers as they run wiring, construct walls, and install the robotic fixtures. The power is on in the office, so at least they had lights and climate control.

"Greg, I'll be candid with you," Mac begins. "From our ping interviews, you seem to be the best fit for what we have in mind. Today I want to talk to you, fill you in on what we'll be doing here, and if it all goes well, extend you an offer, but before any of that, I need you to sign this NDA. Are you familiar with NDA's?"

"Yes, sir, Mr... Mac."

Mac sends over the NDA which Greg digitally signs and sends back.

"Okay, Greg. Here's the deal. I am going into medical research in a big way. As you can see, we're taking advantage of the latest advancements in technology and robotics. Along with some proprietary software, I hope to advance medical research faster and more cheaply than anyone else. The computer will do a lot of the heavy number crunching, but we need someone to look after the machines, the robots the computer will be using, and to fix problems as they arise. I think you're that man."