Human Sister

must cooperate with FBI investigations, whether we understand and agree with their purposes or not. You’re an intelligent young woman. You understand that.” He paused a moment. “Sara, you must talk with me. If you don’t, Casey will come in here and take over. Neither one of us wants that to happen, I assure you.”
    I moved deeper into calmness and into my conviction not to answer.
    “All right. I know you’re a real smart kid, so you know why we’re here and want me just to get to the point. My boy tells me that all the time. ‘Dad, you’re home now. Don’t turn everything into an investigation. Just get to the point.’” He chuckled. “That’s another thing about you teenagers that’s so funny—you have all the time in the world, but you’re so impatient. Right?”
    I continued detaching myself from the situation, finding stillness in my slow, steady breathing.
    “Okay. I’ll get to the point. We’re concerned about the activities of androids in Canada. We know one of them you called ‘First Brother’ frequently visited you when you were a child. We also know your parents smuggled it and another android out of the country eight years ago. Well, ‘smuggled’ perhaps isn’t the right word. It was arguably legal back then. Anyway, we’re not concerned about that. We’re concerned about what those androids are doing now. Did you meet with this First Brother or any other android on your visit to Calgary?”
    His words merely drifted through me.
    “Sara, I want you to understand something. Personally, I don’t dislike androids. So far, they seem to have behaved themselves. But as I said, I’m a U.S. citizen like you, so I have to abide by the laws, just as you do, as everyone does. I’m also a government employee who has to help enforce the laws. You understand that, don’t you?”
    You can no more draw me in, I thought, than radio waves can make the trees sing.
    “I want you to understand how I feel because I like you and respect your opinions, even the ones differing from the majority of Americans. You see, I don’t much care for the anti-android laws either, but like you, I have no choice except to respect them. If we in the FBI could pick and choose which laws to enforce and which laws not to enforce, we would effectively be making or vetoing the laws of the land. We would be, in effect, a quasi-legislature. Now, I don’t think you would want the FBI making the laws of the land, would you? I’m sure I wouldn’t.”
    Remember Nuremberg, I thought.
    Smith sat down on his chair, then extended his hands, palms up. “Sara, take my hands. Please. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
    I saw no harm in this and laid my palms on top of his. In my mind I saw a white butterfly, its wings aquiver, light on a pink rose petal.
    “Look at me, please.”
    I looked up at him. When our eyes met, he smiled. Had I met him under normal circumstances, I would have felt that he was a kind man. Perhaps he was.
    “Sara, please listen to me carefully. There’s an ongoing investigation into the whereabouts and activities of androids. The law is that you must cooperate with this investigation. There are ways, painful ways, to make you talk. And you will talk. Everyone does. It’s just a question of how much you’ll put yourself through before you beg to talk. Please don’t make me leave this room without your statement. If you do, your unimaginable pain will be a torture not only to yourself but also to me and to Elio and your grandparents. Please, don’t do that to yourself. Don’t do that to us. Talk to me. Please.”
    I began pulling my hands away from his. He quickly turned his hands over and caught mine. “Ask for me when you want to talk. Just say my name, Randy Smith, and I’ll come back quickly and take away the pain.”
    I pulled my hands back and didn’t look up or answer. After a few seconds, he sighed, then slowly got up and left the room.
    I brought to my mind’s eye the grape leaf I used for self-hypnosis, seeing the intricate venation of its underside, and above it, a sky, calm and blue and streaked with cirrus, like wisps of hair from Grandma’s comb. But I didn’t proceed to the hypnotic countdown; I didn’t need to, not yet. I just wanted to be sure the leaf was there, and after seeing it, I returned to a meditative calm.
    The door opened. Casey walked briskly to the chair in which Smith had sat. I focused on his legs in their dark gray trousers. Suddenly, the chair swung