Frederic

I remember him well. He was the first other to talk to a Tec for a reason other than a mission briefing. His name was Frederic.

He was a talented man. Once in a while, when I walked by the mess hall’s door, I heard him play the piano. When he did, I could almost hear Frederic talk through the music. As I listened to him I learned about the new friend he met, his love for his work, his sadness that came from finding and watching an old family video. The sadness was my favorite to listen to.

I have to stop here and make a confession: before I’ve met Frederic, I didn’t know the words ‘friend’, ‘family’, ‘sadness’. I heard the others use them, but it was Frederic that taught me the meaning of the words.

Back to that day, I still can’t recall what made me stop and listen for the first time. I stood in the doorway and listened to Frederic play. His face was blank, his eyes unfocused, only his hands spoke of the life and feelings that he released through the piano keys. Even after all those years I remember every sound of the piece he played. It was the Moonlight Sonata.

During the following days, I came by to listen many times. I stood there quietly, unwilling to abort his task (or has he taught me to say, choosing not to disturb), for as long as he’d play, then leave before he could notice me. For many days I stopped by, but until this very day I fail to understand how he sensed my presence. After all, I was a Tec, a synthetic being going unnoticed until it’s time for it to undertake a mission. Besides, I stood really still. But still, Frederic noticed me, since he turned from the piano and looked at me.

“Hello there. Are you enjoying the music?”

Enjoy? Music? I didn’t know those words either. But if one of the others, a human, asks you anything, the proper answer was always:

“Affirmative.”

He made a face at my answer.

“I speak to you as an equal, so please, do the same for me. Use ‘yes’ instead of ‘affirmative’.”
“Roger that.”

Frederic rolled his eyes at that one.

“Well, come in and have a sit. I don’t mind an audience as long as you stay quiet.”

So I came in, took a sit and watched Frederic become one with the music again. He played an old army song, but with in a humorous way. I think he greeted me. From my new observation spot I could watch his fingers, feel the admiration for his skill, and stay quiet. His movements were so fast and well aimed. After a while he looked at me and asked:

“What is your name anyway?”

That I knew the answer to.

“Brat-17.” I stated and hit my chest with the left hand for emphasis.

“Look at you. You’re twice my size! I don’t think Brat fits. I think I’ll call you Robert, if you don’t mind.” Frederic suggested with a smile.

“Robert.” I agreed.

“Would you like to learn to play, Robert?”

“Play?” The word almost had a taste as I repeated it. “Tec no play. Human play. Tec do missions.” I stated, meaning that no one before considered music a skill necessary for a Tec to learn. Gunnery- yes. Navigation- sure. Music? What for?

For a moment he looked hurt, then realization dawned on his face.

“Do you, Robert,” He pointed at me. “want”- a gesture like holding something to his chest. “to learn the human skill of music,” his smile became wider. “despite the Tec orders?”

I allowed myself to smile back.

“Robert want…”

“I want.” Frederic corrected me.

“I want learn music. I want play.”

“Very well. But remember, I’m not a patient teacher.” He practically beamed at me. “Let’s begin.”

And so he taught me. I could easily copy the order and tempo of pressing the keys and the finger positions, but I had difficulty with controlling the strength of the pressure I applied.

“God, Robert. Don’t poke the piano like you’re on a mission to kill it. Try again, gently.”
When I failed to follow the instructions, Frederic lost his temper. He showed me with all his human strength, which was very small compared to mine, and then he patted me gently on the shoulder.

“Now do you feel the difference?” He asked.

“I do.”

“You attack the piano. Be gentle.” He said, repeating the soft patting. “Do you understand?”

Now if there’s one thing that we, the Tec don’t like, is being touched by an other. Had it been any other human, I’d probably break his hand and be killed for that. But I didn’t.

“I understand. Unwilling touch.”

“Please, don’t touch me, Robert.” Frederic corrected. “And I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

”Hurt?” I smiled. “Frederic… you can’t hurt me. Just don’t touch me.” He nodded his understanding and the lesson continued.

Time has passed. For Frederic, not for me. I saw his face change, his hair fade to grey, while I remained strong and efficient. My friends, other Tec, came now to listen to our lessons, which by now turned to duets and conversations. Frederic taught me to talk like a human (although at that time, he was the only human I spoke to), and I passed some of the knowledge on. Frederic offered to teach other Tec as well, but they all declined. They just enjoyed listening to me play. I don’t blame them, since most of them had a life span of 3 to 9 months, and couldn’t learn much. But they still listened.

Then, Frederic could play no more. His joints became damaged. Something called arthritis. Tec don’t have arthritis. Most of us don’t live long enough to get it, but those that do are usually deemed useless and just liquidated. But Frederic was a human, so he continued to live. But he couldn’t give up on the music, so we continued to meet and I played for him. His temper got worse with the years, and he was less than patient when I made speech mistakes. But he still was my friend.

One day I came to a meeting, and he didn’t. I waited, but he didn’t show up. Neither did he for the next time, or those after it, for many long weeks. Then, there was a mission, and I was gone for two months, but as I returned, and still Frederic didn’t come.

I sat at night and pondered on it, when a man came into our barrack. He wasn’t wearing a uniform of a soldier or a technician, but instead he wore a black, formal suit.

“Brat-17!” He called my name.

“Affirmative.” I stood up.

“My… Frederic wants to see you. Follow me.”

This was one of the rare times I was allowed to leave the military complex (with the exception of a mission). But unlike the other times, I cared little about the human world around me. All I cared was that I get to see Frederic again.

My first thought was that the building that we arrived to smelled like our barracks- like clean death.  Too clean. I heard it was called a hospital. A strange name.

The man in the suit led me to a room on one of the upper floors, and there I saw Frederic. He was so old and tired, but when I came in he gave me one of his beaming smiles.

“Robert!” He motioned for me to approach. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

I gave the man in the suit a look. Frederic nodded his understanding. He knew I chose not to show others that I can speak like them.

“Jeff is my grandson, so it’s safe.”

“You never came. I thought I hurt you.”

“I’m sorry I never told you, but I heard you had a mission and I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I’m here.”

“Good. Will you play for me, Robert? There’s a piano in a conference room in this hospital.”

“I will, Frederic.”

“Jeff, call a nurse, so she can help me move.”

“No need. I can move you.” I offered.

I picked him up and wondered at how light he as. I carried him to the elevator, followed by Jeff, who explained to the staff that Frederic wants to breathe some air and I was there to assist. We went to the conference room, where I placed Frederic on a seat of his choice and walked to the stage. For some reason, I chose to play Moonlight Sonata.

I played the way Frederic wanted me to, showing my emotions through the music. I remember being happy that my fingers moved gently, like his. I let the music take over me, just like he taught me, and when I opened my eyes I saw Jeff hugging Frederic, who slumped in his chair. I understood that. Frederic was tired, so he must’ve fallen asleep.

I approached them and offered to carry Frederic back to his room. Jeff looked at me in a strange way and then told me to call a nurse and go back to the barracks. I didn’t know why, because as far as I’ve known, if Frederic died or something, he’d be liquidated, like any other being I’ve seen dying. And since he wasn’t taken to the barrack’s lab for that, I believed that he was fine.

Three days later, Jeff came to the barracks and proved my assumption wrong. Frederic died. He wanted to die to the sounds of music. Jeff told me because he believed that I should know, like any other friend or relative.

That was 137 years ago.

I outlived many humans. Some of them spoke to me. But most of the time I was either used or ignored. I lived on, and they passed in an endless row of faces. I remember some of them, but it’s Frederic I remember the best.

***

“Not the Forrest Sonata, or whatever it’s called again!” Helios complained. “He’s thinking of this Frederic guy again and we’re the ones to suffer the old golem’s moods.”

Wilhelm sneered at Helios.

“Let him speak of his memory. He’ll outlive us all anyway and so his memory is as immortal as the rest of him. Besides, if the way he plays that piece is anything alike to the man it speaks of, this Frederic deserves to be remembered.”

Commander Robert of Tec nation didn’t hear the exchange behind his back. He was too busy observing his own fingers as they touched the keys.


                                        (Inna, 2010)