We stepped onto a huge, open-air terrace with a view that looked down on the city grids and gardens. Had to shield my eyes from the blinding sunlight that glared off the shiny floor.

  “Dial sky dome down to overcast.” She commanded, then turned to me. “There, there dear. It's time to celebrate.”

  Food spread on the long table came into focus. Recognized smells from when Prof met with her, maybe on this exact spot. Same things Seebi had me taste.

  Spotted the green pouch holding Susine's journal among the plates of food and clipped it around my waist.

  “I do have a confession.” President paused dramatically. “I let myself care a bit too much for Miye Jonas. Weakness is the tragic byproduct of opening the soul to love. And so, after that debacle, I performed a complete structural assessment on myself. My welds have been strengthened immensely since then.”

  She looked down on the city. “On that note, I find it refreshing that you do not crumple easily, Dah16. You are especially promising in terms of my goals.”

  “Rather die.”

  “Oh, how endearing.” She sighed. “You still believe you have a choice.”

  Fidgeted with my waist pouch. “You... could've just programmed a virtual Miye Jonas to behave however you want. Why go through all this trouble and--”

  “The hologram is fine-good for the public view, but it's a complete bore when I need it most… don't get me started about the bedroom...!” She rolled her eyes.

  “Wh-where did you put... the real him?”

  President swiveled her gaze to me. “Where he shall never hurt me again.”

  She leaned towards me with perfumed breath. “Look, I'll spell it out, Dah16. I have bots of every kind at my disposal-- from advisory to therapeutic-- including body trainers, affectionate units, reverse aging specialists, intellectual sages, obsessed admirers, debating partners, submissive underlings, data mangers, leadership coaches, plus I access the vast storehouse of human memories. I have an unrivaled position.”

  Her head bobbed slightly as she stared at me. “That custom, mega-gratitude implant was supposed to override my greed-needs. It didn’t work. Unacceptable!”

  She smoothed her hair. “Unfulfilled desires are a distraction. When I meet all my needs myself, I'll be guaranteed to be invincible, permanently! I'll need no one. Complete self-sufficiency and freedom in any ways I choose!”

  “… and loneliness.”

  “What did you say? I dare you to repeat it.”

  “You. Lonely.”

  “Incorrect. I am alone. As the visionary leader, no one understands me. It is my curse to carry.”

  Scanned the tampy-fancy food and luxe furnishings. “Only reason to be here, President Prehvost, is you need me. Can't do this on your own--”

  “Enough!” Her rage exploded, then immediately subsided.

  She ran her palm over her forehead before continuing in a hyper-calm voice. “If you don't meet my expectations, Dah16, you'll live the rest of your shriveled, dead-end life believing wholeheartedly that I am your abusive, negligent mother who deliberately abandoned you. I'll personally make sure that you always remember that you deserve to be unloved.

  “You'll focus on your worthlessness every minute of every day. The injustice of it will haunt you. A sense of shame will pervade your being. You'll roam Zentrum City like the gaggles of helpless mem zombies, my best citizens.” She wolfed down a handful of sliced truffles.

  “Madame, I feel that--”

  “Ha! Feelings?” she exclaimed with a mouthful of food. “Archaic, inefficient data points used by stupid, lazy, incompetent, small-brained life forms that believe in the cult of personal relationships.”

  Bits of partially chewed fungi flew onto the buffet. “Our brains were never built to efficiently process emotional data, but we kept slogging away, didn't we!

  “And look where it got us over the past centuries-- lost, easily confused, self-indulgent, navel-gazing, weak-minded, in extreme denial, desperately narcissistic, and almost eradicated. Machines never say I am cold, ruthless, insensitive, or aggressive. And they don’t call my engineered humans soft, weak, slow, wavering, indecisive, or adrift.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “I know what you feel right now... arrogant, belittled, condescended to, desperate, endangered, fight-or-flight, grossly misunderstood, hate, in denial, jumpy, knackered, lobotomized, mouse-like, nervous, overpowered, pretending, queasy, restless, smug, terrified, used, vacillating, willful, xenografted, yearning, zippered up.”

  President gazed at me. “Be honest. You feel understood, darlsweet.”

  Stared back even though whole body shook.

  She leaned in to whisper. “There's unfinished business between me and the Professor. You know what he was willing to do for love and what he should have done for me. I want regret and grovelling, Dahrry!”

  Told her that Prof would never grovel.

  “Of course, dimwit. But, you will! Write a letter to me from Professor Miye Jonas, in which he begs for my merciful forgiveness, admits he was wrong, and offers his desperate apology to me.”

  “That won't bring him back.”

  “Nitwit. I never want him back in his physical form, yuck, with unsavory secretions from orifices. I want the purified idea of him in my mind, emotionally dimensionalized, in neuron-triggering rich vibrancy, with emotional zings of authentic resonance that I can suck on eternally.

  “This will correct my miscalculation of trying to love him as a human. I love him as an idea and this way I can control him perfectly.”

  “Where is he, Madame?” Fawned. “Where did you put him in your infinite wisdom?”

  “Dah16, write that letter. Better make it good.” President stood. “My bot will supervise your drafts until deemed acceptable for me to ingest.”

  Remembered Prof said something about singing one's death song and going home a hero… I never learned that tune…

  Dear President Prehvost, My dear Elena,

  I am sorry I did not know that you were wonderful back then. I was wrong and I beg your forgiveness.

  My dear Elena,

  You gave me your heart and I treated it like trash. I did not recognize the special unique creature that you are. I did not realize the depth of soul you possess. It was too much for my limited intelligence to grasp. For this I will always be sorry.

  My dear Elena,

  Please have mercy on me. I never wanted to hurt you. I only wanted to please you. My best wasn’t good enough and I let you down. I have no right to ask for another chance to love you properly. I did wrong and got caught. You deserved better.

  My dear Elena,

  I wanted to write this to you so you can know for sure that I loved. you. That I made a mistake in trashing the affection you offered me. I was a dumb human who did stupid things that caused you suffering. I took advantage and abused your good will.

  I beg at your feet, oh noble Elena, for your just and merciful forgiveness. I grovel in abject apology. I was selfish in thinking I could simply do what I wanted. I was not worthy to accept the noble gift of affection which you gave me.

  I am not worthy and I know that now, being a grovelling animal in fact. A creature who approaches you sideways, forehead to the ground, with respect for your awe-inspiring power to create reality according to your desires.

  You are a goddess, Elena. I had the chance to be your companion and I stupidly threw it away. I had a chance to be your special other and I was blind to the gift. You were pure light and I ran for shadow where I have always lived. I blamed you for the brightness which was simply your nature.

  I was not ready and it was my fault, not yours. I was not ready for your love. I could not see the radiance in front of me that was you. And I will regret my limited vision, my fear, my pettiness, my jealousy, and my bad choices for eternity.

  President's eyes closed during the reading by her bot in Prof's voice. She sat silently on the terrace in a reverie-trance for several minutes until I interrupted.

  “Madame, I wrote the confession you requested. With the help of your unit, I laced it with embedded sensory pops. I--”

  “It is adequate.” President did not open her eyes. “I have no more need for you. Go away.”

  “But… true-tell it's not sustainable! Stuffing the Professor's data into your brain won't keep working. Your body overrides it and you're left wanting yet again.” Spoke faster. “These hits of mem chemicals that you have to concoct every week? Every day? You're an addict!”

  “How dare you!” The President glared at me and gestured to her security bot. “Everything is at my command and in my grasp.”

  “Not so! You don't have him. And, you want him!” The bot clamped onto my arms. “Madame, if you purge me, you'll be farther from ever getting that!”

  She stood. “Fifteen seconds. Talk.”

  “A human or hombot that looks like him, sounds like him, or smells like him... Triggers you. Your internal and external guns fire off. You waste energy controlling the blast zone, mitigating damage. You know this is inefficient. Not total control… and, others know it too.”

  President stared unblinkingly. The bot tightly held my arms.

  “I can give you what you want, Madame.”

  She lifted her chin slightly.

  The bot began to pull my body.

  Braced my feet. “Wait! I'll write a script to seed in you naturally. It's old school mem work. I'm the only one who can give you the precise emotional lineage for the Professor. It'll be tender and good!”

  President ordered her security bot to release its hold on me. “What do you want in exchange, Dah16?”

  Rubbed my sore upper arms. “To... live in Vinlandia with my tribe and for us to owe nothing here.”

  “Tribe? Ha!” She scoffed. “You'll get bored there and want to come back. You’ll miss my maternal care and control. You'll be begging on your hands and knees for me to tidy you up. There's absolutely no way you can cope with all this in your brain, willy-nilly, unorganized, unkept and--”

  “Wild?”

  “You've no idea what that really means, little human. Wild was an ancient and dangerous chaos.”

  We stared at each other.

  “Madame, I accept the risk of wild memories. If I ever return, you can erase them all.”

  She watched me looking her directly in the eye. “All I need, Madame, is access to the mem therapy data from my unit-- CB857.”

  No reply from her.

  “Madame, I can start the work for you right away. It won't take long. You will be satisfied. Give me your assurance of meeting my conditions.”

  A pause. Her shrug. “Fine. Let's see what you offer me that no one else has been able to. No harm in that. My senior archivist will provide the data you need. I shall return in ten minutes.”

  She turned on her heel. “Better be ready for me. I don't give second tries.”