Human Sister by Jim Bainbridge

his study and meditate until I calmed. But determined to have the brother I wanted, not the brother I thought Grandpa wanted, I stayed my ground, standing silently in front of him.
    Although he was intent on motivating his androids with emotion, Grandpa was suspicious of human emotions, which, he said, had evolved in a primitive world very different from the one in which we now had to survive and prosper. In our advanced technological world, only reason transformed into wisdom through carefully guided experience and training could tame and properly direct our powerful yet often errant and dangerous emotional heritage, a heritage providing modern humans with at best a call to action and a coarse first approximation as to what that action should be. Thus, my human emotions had to be passed through the meditative filter of reason, so that I might confront reality with a minimum of illusions and self- or clan-centered aggression.
    “I just want a nice brother I can study with and play with,” I finally said.
    Grandpa smiled. “Yes, of course, you do. I wouldn’t think of giving Michael any capability to harm or embarrass you. I can assure you that Michael will not be able to exert any control over you that you wouldn’t approve of. The power of his intentions and desires coming in through the braincord would be only a slight fraction of the power of your brain over itself. For him to have any influence over you at all, you would have to meditate and enter into a high state of relaxation and receptivity for him.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yes. We thought you would enjoy being able to get inside and feel and understand Michael more directly and deeply than you ever could by using normal means of communication.”
    “I’d be able to feel what he feels?”
    “We hope you will, at least to some extent.”
    “You mean, as when Grandma’s happy I can see it in her face and hear it in her voice, but I can’t really feel it. But with Michael I could really and truly feel his happiness?”
    “Yes, that’s right. And he could feel your happiness, too, if you choose to let him.”
    My imagination sparkled. I knew that words often were used to hide, not disclose. I’d sensed the shadowy underneath and behind of things. How wonderful it would be, then, to know, truly know, what was inside the words, gestures, and bright feelings of another.
    “But,” Grandpa said, interrupting my growing excitement, “if you don’t want to have this capability with Michael, we can do quite well without the implant and the braincord.”
     
    Did Grandpa actually believe that Michael would never learn to override my will, or was that another deception? I haven’t brainjoined with Michael even once since coming here to this watery hideaway, because on the way here I discovered that he could, in fact, control me completely. And not only that—I discovered a secret that he’s been keeping from me, a secret I’m not yet ready to let him know that I know.
     
    “I can see you’re excited about creating Michael,” Grandpa said after more discussion, “but there is one thing we have to be clear about before we proceed. We must keep all things related to him secret. Only you and I, Grandma, your father, mother, and brothers can ever know. Even Elio must not learn anything about your operation or about Michael.”
    My excitement was instantly replaced by a hollow feeling of dread. Only a few months earlier, when Grandpa and I had visited Elio and Aunt Lynh for the third summer in a row, Elio had more or less forced me to tell him what I knew about his father’s death. I’d felt terrible about divulging the secret I’d promised Grandpa I would keep, and I’d promised myself never again to agree to keep a secret from Elio.
    “Please, Grandpa, I can’t keep secrets from Elio.”
    “If we are to do this, you must.”
    “But I’m sure he won’t tell.”
    Grandpa again looked at me silently. I knew he was probably right about keeping Michael