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Cid knew he didn’t need to come to the Rosfield estate for this. The papers could easily have been emailed over, a digital signature as appropriate as a real one. His assistant was right: he was a damn fool but he’d happily be a damn fool a few more times as he stepped through the threshold into the foyer of Rosalith House.
“Good morning, Mr Telomon.” The smooth voice greeted him. It had made him jump the first few times, made him look for the source of the voice but not anymore.
He was still never quite sure where to direct his response to.
“Good morning, Clive. How are you today?”
There was a long pause, just as there was every time that Cid approached anything related to emotions. He guessed it was a limit of the software.
“I am well, thank you.” The voice, Clive, said in the usual even tone. “Lord Rosfield is awaiting you in the Green Sitting room. Do you need directions?”
Cid shook his head. The AI usually managed to pick up things like that. He’d been a frequent enough visitor that he knew his way around. Of course three steps down the hallway he regretted it when he could have had Clive’s voice guided him along the way.
They’d been doing some redecorating recently and Cid’s eyes were caught on a new painting on the wall. It depicted a boat at sea in the middle of a fierce thunderstorm, white frothed waves crashing against the ship’s fragile wooden frame. Standing at the bow of the ship, by the wheel, was a single lone figure, hands gripping tight and desperately steering through the chaos.
“It’s called Salvation. Lord Rosfield spotted it at a recent art show by an unknown artist and arranged to show it within the house.” The voice sprung from nowhere and Cid felt a warm shiver down the back of his neck. “The artist stated it was a representation of their own struggles with depression. I think Lord Rosfield mostly thought it was pretty and perhaps representative of the struggles of running a business.”
Was that amusement in his voice?
“I can understand that,” Cid replied. And he did. Both aspects. His darker days were mostly behind him now but he still had the pleasure of trying to steer his business when it felt like everyone else was definitely trying to scuttle it.
He didn’t bother knocking on the door to the sitting room. Clive would’ve announced his arrival and would have told him not to enter if it wasn’t allowed.
Lord Elwin Rosfield was sat on one of the long sofas, Rosfield red despite the general green decor of the room. It clashed somewhat if you asked Cid. There was a round polished wood table in front of him, a delicate porcelain tea set on top.
“Lord Rosfield, Mr Telomon is here to see you,” Clive announced which felt a bit superfluous. Lord Rosfield’s cheek twitched at it, he always seemed a bit uncomfortable with the AI. The Lord was a hereditary peer and tended towards a somewhat old fashioned way of doing things.
Lord Rosfield stood up from the sofa in time for a hand shake before both men settled back into respective sofas, the Lord leaning forward to pour a cup of tea for them both.
“Nice to see you as always, Cid.” Lord Elwin leaned back. “How’s Mid doing?”
“Great, revolutionising the world and not visiting her old man enough.” Cid plopped a couple of lumps of sugar into his tea and stirred. “How is Joshua doing?”
“Much better, they’ve found a medication regime that seems to be really helping this time. He’s hoping to be able to go back to university next year as long as it keeps up.” Lord Elwin held out a hand in expectation. “What do you need me to sign this time?”
Cid reached the pair of brown envelopes out of his briefcase and handed them out. “Two applications for grants from the Wyvern Foundation. One for a new apprenticeship program we’re working on for our engineering department. One for subsidised use of our latest educational software in underprivileged areas.”
Lord Elwin frowned and put the envelopes to one side. “Ah, I didn’t realise this was about the foundation. There’s a few folks I need to run this past so I won’t be able to get you approval tonight.”
Cid cursed to himself. Yet again his assistant was right. He was supposed to have come over here a couple of days ago but Otto had been teasing him more than usual recently and Cid had put it off to see how long he could last. He’d been hoping to launch the programs next week, Lord Rosfield’s approval was usually a done deal.
“Well, whenever you can get back to me, that’d be great,” was all that Cid’s said.
“Say, what are you planning to do tonight?”
Wank to the memory of your AI’s voice didn’t feel like the appropriate answer.
“No big plans. Pizza and whatever least terrible thing I can find on Netflix.”
Elwin chuckled at that. That’s what Cid liked about him, he seemed more down-to-earth than some of the other people with a lot of money that Cid had to go begging to for funding. “I thought it might be something like that. Anabella is away and Joshua will be over for the evening. Why don’t you come over?”
Cid had never been that successful in hiding his dislike for the Lady of the house in the same way that she failed to hide her dislike for, well, everyone. Cid wasn’t really feeling like a fancy dinner at the end of a long week when he could just curl up on his sofa. On the other hand, he’d get to spend more time in the house.
“I would be delighted.”
Lord Elwin Rosfield clapped his hand, “Excellent. I’ll let the chef know.”
Cid knew a dismissal when he heard one, even so polite. Besides he needed to let Blackthorne know to hold fire on his plans and that wasn’t going to go well.
***
Cid told himself that he was just trying to make a good impression on a business associate. He told himself that he just wanted an excuse to dress up a little more than the jeans and a purple shirt that formed 90% of his wardrobe. Those excuses didn’t really account for the pile of shirts and trousers that had spread from the bed and across most of the floor.
Did an AI even have a taste in clothing? Did the camera sensors even see in colour?
Was Cid losing his mind? Probably.
This was just the perfect moment for Mid to come on one of her visits home.
Cid had never felt so judged as he did in that moment as Mid looked at the pile of clothes on the floor, at his hair that was stood up at crazy angles after some failed wrangling with hair gels that Mid had gifted him last visit, at her father’s general deranged demeanour.
“You got a date!”
“I do not have a date, I have a dinner with a business associate.” Cid corrected, holding up the fifteenth shirt to his chest in the mirror.
“You have a dinner date. Who’s it with?” Mid plopped herself down to sit in the middle of Cid’s bed, cross legged and utterly ignoring the chaos around her.
“I have a business dinner with Lord Elwin Rosfield.”
Mid wrinkled her nose. “Ew, I hope you don’t have a date. Isn’t he a bit old for you?”
“And that’s why it’s not a date. Now shoo so I can get dressed and if you are nice, I’m sure you can come along.”
It took another half an hour before Cid wrangled his hair into something that didn’t make him look like an electrocuted hedgehog, picked an outfit that looked suitable for a Lord while showing off the chest his gym membership had earnt and got enough courage to face his daughter’s review.
He couldn’t leave her out there too long or she might find his plans for robot bodies suitable for AI hosting.
Mid was sitting at the breakfast bar with her phone pressed to her ear as he came in. “Oh, I see. The AI, really? Have you heard the voice? You know I could probably take a copy for home if I can get a bit of access to the server.”
Cid plucked the phone out of his daughter’s hands, just about hearing Otto’s voice in the background before Cid hung up the call.
Mid looked up with the angelic look that had let her get away with so much shit in the past. Who was Cid kidding? It still fucking worked.
“There’ll be no downloading of AIs, Lord Elwin Rosfield is a valued donor to the company and I’m not stealing his proprietary system.”
Mid may not understand decorum but she had a better grasp on patents.
“Fine but I’m definitely coming now. I’ve got to meet this voice.” Mid ducked into her room, emerging with a formal enough dress Cid had bought her for one of the company galas.
“Let’s go meet your boyfriend.”
***
“Good evening, Mr Telomon.” Cid had to both suppress a shiver down his spine and dodge the elbow from his daughter as he once again entered the Rosalith house foyer.
“Holy shit, this place is mega-fancy. How rich are these guys?” Mid exclaimed, peering around the foyer with wide eyes.
“Rosalith House has been in the Rosfield family for twelve generations though it has gone through recent renovations at the request of Lady Rosfield. The Rosfield net worth is estimated at a hundred million.” Could an AI sound embarrassed? Maybe he’d been patched recently.
“Neat,” Mid exclaimed. “Do you have your own information database or are you connected up to the internet? How many terabytes do you take up?”
“Mid!” Cid growled, taking hold of her daughter’s arm and leaving her towards where he knew the main dining room is.
“Um, the family are dining in the smaller dining room this evening. You can head down that corridor but then take the second left instead.” Clive said, ignoring Mid’s question.
Cid followed the directions, not daring to ask Clive any more questions for once for free of Mid prying. The dining room they were led to was much smaller than the one Cid had been so before and decorated in a much cozier style. None of the impressive portraits of the family Rosfield glowering down at him from the walls. There was just about space for six people though only four places had been set.
Lord Elwin and Lord Joshua were already present though Cid belatedly realised that their conversation was somewhat heated and he wondered why Clive hadn’t warned him. He didn’t manage to catch any of the words and didn’t want to eavesdrop too long so he just cleared his throat.
Lord Elwin glanced around and straightened up, “Ah, Cid and Mid, thank you so much for coming.”
Lord Joshua did not look as pleased though Cid was at least pleased to see more colour in his cheeks and he’d gained some weight since they’d last seen him. Lord Joshua straightened up and put on what looks like a customer service smile. “Yes, so kind of you to come. We have so few dinners when my mother isn’t around that it’s great to have guests.”
Cid had learnt to read subtext thanks to his many business deals. This was barely subtext though. It was just text, angry red text.
Lord Elwin frowned disapprovingly at his son. “Mr Telomon here has been working on some wonderful programs with us so it’s only fair that we offer some hospitality.”
“Yeah, we must be fair to Mr Telomon,” Joshua grumbled. It was odd, Cid had met the lad a few times in the past and always thought they’d got on quite well. Joshua tended to be quiet, a bit bookish. Whatever they had been arguing about, it had well and truly set him off.
“Please, take a seat.” Lord Elwin gestured to the table. Fortunately it also had a slightly more simple service that the ridiculous array of forks, knives and spoons in the past. Cid sat and pulled Mid to the chair next to him before he could wander off.
Their bums had barely touched upholstery before a couple of maidservants came in with steaming bowls of soup that were placed at each seat. Cid glanced down at it. Like most soups, it was a kinda reddish colour that made it almost impossible to guess what would actually be in it.
“What’s the soup?” he asked, knowing already who was going to answer.
“Chef has made carrot soup,” came the melodious voice from the speaker.
Lord Joshua glanced up from the table towards where one of the cameras must be located and very blatantly stuck his middle finger up at it.
“Apologies. It appears that it is actually squash soup. Chef has used squashes harvested by local farmers with a medium chilli and rich cream from a nearby dairy. Please enjoy.”
Again Cid could swear he saw Joshua mouth along ‘please enjoy’ in a mocking way. He’d thought the lad appreciated the AI. From the stories Elwin had told, it’d been about half responsible for the raising of the boy, hardly surprising with a mother like Lady Anabella.
The moment was disturbed by Mid scraping her spoon along the bottom of the bowl and taking a big slurp of the soup. “Nice. Like the kick to it.”
Lord Elwin took a more decorous spoonful, the signal too that Joshua and Cid could begin eating. “I’ll pass my compliments onto the chef.”
It was quiet for a while apart from the delicate clink of spoons and the slurping from Mid. Once the bowls were mostly empty, Cid decided to try appeasing Joshua. “I hear you are hoping to go back to university next year?”
Joshua pursed his lips but it looked like he’d decided to stop being an asshole at least for a while. “Yeah, though I want to switch from Business to something else. I’ve had a bit of time to consider it and not so sure I want to follow the family business.”
Cid glanced to Elwin, expecting him to be distressed by that but the man looked entirely unbothered. “I see, what are you considering?”
Joshua shrugged, “Not sure yet. Maybe psychology though I might need to go back to college first for some prerequisites.”
“You should study engineering.” Mid has finally finished slurping up most of her soup and was scraping the spoon around the edge of the bowl to get all the traces.
“Mid thinks everyone should study engineering.”
“Everyone should study engineering, it’s the future.” Mid agreed. “Technology revolution. Soon enough, everything will be run by computers. Just look at your system here.” Mid gestured up to the same camera as Joshua had earlier.
“Engineering is definitely a valuable field to study,” Clive spoke into the room. “But it’s never been Lord Joshua’s forte.”
Joshua’s good mood seems to vanish just from that one comment, his spoon dropping down into the bowl with a clang. “Maybe I don’t approve of things that make people shut themselves away in their rooms to stare at screens instead of being amongst people.”
Joshua shoved his chair back with a loud screech and stood up. “Forgive me, father, it appears I’m coming down with something.” He turned and left the door, slamming the door behind him.
Elwin sighed, raking a hand back through his hair. “I… I apologise for my son. It’s not really directed at you.”
“The soup was nice.” Mid said as they lapsed into silence once more.
***
“I can see what you like.” Mid struck up the conversation almost immediately in the car home. “He’s got a really nice voice. They’ve done some good work too with personality, a lot of the language learning models are a bit bland.”
Cid just kept his eyes on the road. The rain had started to come down and the worn wipers were doing a valiant job to keep the worst off the windscreen. Every passing car or street lamp left an almost blinding smear against his vision.
“Daaaad.”
“I don’t want to talk about it with my daughter right now,” Cid gritted his teeth.
“Oh come on, it’s not like I haven’t caught you doing weirder things. The automated ‘back scratcher’ machine?”
Cid’s breath caught in his chest. He’s tried to forget that, at least block it from his mind. He missed the innocent days of Mid where he could fob her off with excuses. “Please don’t remind me of that.”
The rest of the journey passed in blissful silence and no accidents until they pulled into the car park outside the apartment block. Cid squinted. He could just about make out a figure stood under the lights out the front. Probably one of his neighbours forgotten their keys again.
Cid switched off the car and hurried through to the doorway. To his astonishment, the figure turned out to be a drenched to the bone Lord Joshua Rosfield. Cid felt his jaw drop and then noticed the shivering. Shit. This was not good weather for him to be out in. Questions could wait.
He tossed the keys over to Mid. “Go put the heaters on, fetch some blankets.”
While Mid was off, he guided the lad up into the apartment, shoving him through into the bathroom for a hot shower. He went through the remains of his wardrobe that wasn’t coating the floor, picking out some comfy sweats and a jumper that wouldn’t swamp the lad too badly.
“What the fuck?” Mid asked him as soon as he emerged.
Cid shrugged, “How the fuck do I know?” He scrubbed a hand through his own wet hair. “Look, something’s obviously going through the lad’s head. You mind giving us some space?”
Mid was a good girl. She just nodded, mimed headphones and headed into her room.
It was long enough that Cid started to worry that the lad had collapsed in his bathroom before Lord Joshua finally emerged from the bathroom, looking like a toddler swamped in his dad’s clothing. His teeth were still chattering and he was too pale. Cid guided him over to the comfy sofa, piling him under a set of blankets and waited.
“I was an arsehole tonight,” Joshua said, at least he presumed it was still Joshua. It was hard to see a person from beneath the mounds of blankets.
“Yes, you were.” Cid said, gesturing to the side table. “Drink your hot chocolate.”
“Yes, I was.” Two pale hands emerged from the blanket pile to snatch the drink and take it back into the huddle. “It’s just… We have so few dinners when mother is not around and when father said he invited guests, it just angered me.”
Cid mulled those words over. “You wanted a dinner just with your father?”
“No,” Joshua grumbled. “I wanted a dinner with Clive.”
Cid mulled those words too then re-mulled them. He turned them about in his mind like one of the little wooden puzzles that he’d bought to distract Mid from questions. Was the Rosfield son in love with the AI too? Cid was hardly in a position to judge and he really shouldn’t be feeling jealous.
“I see,” Cid said even though he really didn’t. “But Clive was at the dinner too.”
“What? No, he wasn’t.”
“He was. Remember he told us about the soup.” Maybe the Lord was feverish. Cid tried to remember if he still had a thermometer.
“That doesn’t really count.” The hands re-emerged from the blanket huddle, depositing the empty hot chocolate mug onto the table.
Cid had had a wild youth, pretty much until Mid turned up and forced him to settle down a little. He’d heard of all types of kinks and he tried not to be the judging type. He needed to handle this carefully. “You wanted Clive’s server in the room?”
The blankets shifted enough so that Joshua’s head emerged, half his hair damply plastered to his head while the rest was puffing up like an angry cat. “Why would I want his server in the room?” His expression said that Cid was the mad one which Cid felt was a bit rude given the effort Cid put into being non-judgemental.
“Sorry, I guess I’m just not getting what you mean when you say you wanted Clive in the room.”
Joshua blinked once, twice, tilted his head to the side. “I mean I wanted Clive in the room. I’m really not sure how this is complicated.”
Fortunately Cid had a wealth of experience dealing with knowledge sharing between technical and non-technical people. “Okay, so explain it like I’m five. How would you get Clive to be in the room?”
Joshua’s face was still a study in confusion. “Okay. I would go into Clive’s room. I would get his agreement. I’d wheel him into the dining room. I’d have Clive in the room.”
This wasn’t helping. “Even simpler,” Cid said. “Like I’m five, remember?”
“Are you filming this for some kind of prank show?” Joshua asked, peering distrustfully around the room as if looking for hidden cameras.
“I promise you that I’m not.”
Joshua sighed, shaking his head. “Fine. I would walk down my hallway, through the double doors into the south wing of the house. I would enter the extra security code to get into that area. I would go to Clive’s room. I would knock on his door. When he said I could come in, I would enter. I would ask him to join us for dinner. I would then probably have to persuade him to join us for dinner. I would help him into his wheelchair if he needed it. I would push his wheelchair if he needed it. I would leave the south wing and progress through the hallways to the dining room. I would push the wheelchair so that it was up against the dining table so he could eat.”
Cid had never felt his brain short circuit before. He’d probably come close during his wild youth, high on various substances a friend had suggested and trying to design inventions to save the world or at least make it more fun. It felt like a static buzz in his ears, the burble of thoughts unable to make it through the thick syrup that was the inside of his skull.
He wasn’t quite sure how long he sat like that before his brain returned to something that would serve as working. “Clive is a person.” He stated the words out loud, feeling a strange taste against his mouth.
“According to everyone except our mother, yes.” Joshua’s mouth twisted bitterly.
Our? “Clive is a person and he’s your brother and he’s not an AI.”
Joshua blinked then burst into a fit of laughter that turned into a fit of coughing and made Cid worried that the lad was about to choke to death. “Fuck me. You mean I’ve had my brother moping about the handsome visitor that never wants to visit him and meanwhile you just thought he was a computer program?”
When you put it like this… Cid felt the red flare of a blush across his cheeks and half-wished for a blanket pile to hide behind. Then his brain caught up with his ears. “He thinks I’m handsome?”
Joshua cocked his head to one side, an oddly birdlike motion, and considered Cid carefully. Cid wasn’t sure anyone had looked so intensely at him before, like he was being weighed, measured, analysed. He could see why the lad was thinking of psychology.
“Here’s the deal,” Joshua said when he finished his assessment. “I will take you to see my brother. If you need to let him down, let him down easy. If you hurt his feelings, I will not hit you over the head with the shovel. I will lock you in the basement, chain you to a wall and every day I will come downstairs and give you one more tiny cut before I pour lemon juice and honey over you and release a colony of starving ants. And everyone will let me do it because I’m old money and we’re expected to be crazy. Do you understand?”
Joshua’s creative side both horrified Cid and made him want to offer him a job in the company. “Understood.” He knocked briefly on Mid’s door to let her know he was heading out and then left to go meet Clive.
***
There was no usual greeting as Cid entered the foyer of Rosalith house and he felt slightly bereft. Joshua must have noticed his expression as he just smirked, “Clive will have stopped watching the screens by now. He only does it during the day or if he knows guests are coming.”
Of course, a man watching screens at a computer. That was more sensible than an AI system.
Joshua led him quietly through the hallways, following the path they set out before, through the extra security doors and to the very ordinary looking door.
“Remember what I said,” Joshua warned. “Ants, many starving, angry ants.” He paused. “Good luck.”
That just left Cid and the door. The simple wooden door. Should he knock? He’d never knocked before but he’d relied on Clive announcing or letting him know where to go.
He raised his hand to knock then lowered it then raised it again.
“Joshua, I can hear you fidgeting out there. Just bloody come in so we can talk already.” A voice came from the other side of the door, Clive’s voice, though it sounded a lot more real when not being broadcast through some speakers. More real in tone rather than the polite blandness that had fooled Cid into thinking it was artificial.
Cid pushed down the handle and opened the door before he could chicken out.
“It’s not Joshua,” he said, other words failing him as he caught a glimpse at the man inside.
He was sat on a plush but lower to the floor that normal bed, legs dangling over the side as his back rested against the wall and holding a book loosely in one hand. He was also absolutely fucking gorgeous in a way that Cid hadn’t thought people could be. A thought crossed his mind that maybe he had stepped into some simulation as he crossed the threshold as he wasn’t sure that a person could naturally be that beautiful.
His charcoal black hair fell partly over his face in rough waves that Cid itched to run his fingers through. His eyes were the deep blue of the ocean on a stormy day, capturing and reflecting the light. His… Cid’s brain stuttered as he failed to comprehend the wonder of the picture in front of him.
“Oh,” Clive (CLIVE!) said, his lips curled downwards into a frown as he self-consciously tugged his hair over his face. “I’m gonna kill Joshua,” he muttered.
“Uh,” Cid said intelligently. Following it up with “Muh” and “Ah.”
Clive sighed, a delicate breath between parted lips. “Look, I’m sure my brother talked you into this. It’s okay. I’m not expecting anything.” His words didn’t match up with his gaze, pointed towards the ground and sad in a way that Cid wanted to kiss away.
“Nnn.” Cid said. Right, come on brain, we can do this. Cid took some more steps into the room, drinking in the man before him. “Hi.” Good start. “Nice to meet you.”
Clive glanced curiously up, the frown curving up into a shy smile that Cid did not find adorable, he absolutely didn’t. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Cid said again. Okay, losing it here. Where had his suave charm gone? “Can I sit?” he gestured to the wheelchair by the side of the bed that was the nearest seating he could spot.
“Um, I’d rather you didn’t. It’s just, it’s kinda expensive and, well, I…” Clive gestured over to a chair. “You can use that.”
Cid dragged the chair over, gently and carefully pushing the wheelchair out of the way so he could sit close. “Your brother threatened to murder me slowly with ants.”
Clive paused and then laughed, Cid quietly cataloguing the new sounds he heard Clive make and trying not to let his mind wander to all the rest of the sounds he wanted to hear from him. “He can be a bit protective. Funny as it used to be him that was the sick one.” Clive brushed nervously at his hair and for a moment, Cid could see ropey scar tissue hiding beneath the hair.
“What happened?”
It was probably a bad question as Clive retreated back, posture turning defensive again. “Car accident. It was over a decade ago now.” His stormy eyes fixed on Cid, “I don’t need any pity.”
“Wasn’t planning any,” Cid responded. “Though I am with your brother on not locking yourself away in your room and not just because I want to see you in sunlight.”
“Don’t mock me,” Clive snapped.
“Oh love,” The words slipped out from Cid’s mouth before he could stop them. “This is the furthest from mocking I’ve ever been. You are utterly gorgeous. I mean, I fell in love with your voice and I’m not sure I’d care if you looked like an ugly stepsister but you, you are far from ugly.”
The gaze was apparently genetic as Clive’s look pierced Cid’s soul, searching for falsehoods and not finding any. “I didn’t think you were interested.” The words were so quiet Cid barely heard them.
“I thought you were an AI.” Fuck, that’s not a good way to make an impression.
“You what?”
Cid sighed and couldn’t resist reaching a hand out to intertwine his fingers with Clive’s hand, rubbing his thumb along the strong fingers. “I only ever heard you on the intercom and you seemed a bit Jarvis so I just assumed.”
“You assumed I was an AI?” Cid considered it a good sign that Clive didn’t pull his hand away.
“Look, it… I… it made sense at the time alright.”
Clive giggled and then held up his free hand to hide the gesture as if it was wrong somehow. Cid wanted to pull the hand away, kiss him and let him know how much he appreciated every noise Clive could make. But at the same time he didn’t want to startle him. Not fragile, definitely not fragile, but perhaps brittle. It made Cid hate Anabella even more, seeing the marks of damage she’d left clearer than anything the other car has done.
Clive tilted his head, his own fingers twining playfully with Cid’s now. “You really aren’t put off by all this?”
“You having a body is already a step up on what I’d been expecting.”
Clive laughed again and Cid loved the way that his eyes lit up, loved that he could do that. “So, what happens next?”
“Well, I’ve already had dinner with your family,” Cid said. “So I would like to take you out to dinner.”
“Out?” Clive said. Cid let him take a moment, let the thought go through his mind, “I think I’d like that.”
Cid let his smile spread across his face. “I think I’d like that too.”