“John! Time for school!” Marie called through the back door as she searched his backpack for lost teacher memos. “Angie, wipe the table and wash the dishes.” She instructed the maid droid.

 

Her son dawdled through the door with a ladybug on his finger. He had a sweet nature, and he knew what he wanted and knew how to get it by complying with most of what she asked of him. When she lifted her eyebrows, he went back out and freed the bug.

 

At twelve years old, he wasn’t talkative. As the only child of a widow, he didn’t need speech to be understood, or to understand. Their morning routine spoke for them.

Together they walked down the marble lined hallway to the elevator. Once inside and underway, John asked, “Why can’t I go to school?”

 

Marie sighed. He hadn’t asked this question in at least a year. “It’s not how things happen. No one actually goes there.”

 

“I’d like the option.”

 

They rode another floor before he asked, “Is anyone else like me?”

 

Marie made thinking noises, buying time. “Yes and no.”

 

The elevator door opened. She escorted him to the control room.

 

Huge screens covered the walls surrounding a central console. A padded chair gave access to a 360-degree dashboard full of knobs, buttons and levers.

 

Right at the entrance, they stopped in front of the upper half of a mannequin that looked like John at nine years old. Marie wheeled his chair beside his droid twin.

Using grab bars and rollers, John lifted himself. His upper body showed powerful development, maybe a little more than the average twelve year old. His emaciated, useless lower limbs slipped anonymously out of the robotic legs that allowed him to run and play. He transfered to the chair.

 

Marie initiated the joining of the upper and lower halves of the droid. “Everyone has a droid double, John. The children you see at school aren’t actually there. Disease and accidents are minimized this way.”

 

John wheeled himself into position in front of the dashboard. He pressed a button and the droid “woke up.” Marie didn’t like the term “came to life.”

“Good morning John.” The other John walked to the side of the console chair.

 

“Good morning John,” Marie’s son had a laugh in his voice. “Ready to face the world for me?”

 

“Ready as I’ll ever be!” came the liturgical response.

 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” John turned his attention to the screens.

 

Marie reversed the path to the elevator with her son’s double. They walked down more marble lined corridors to the garage, entered the volo, and drove off the property. Marie knew that the conversation she was having was with her son. She could almost forget the droid interface.

 

“Why aren’t accidents cut down by your droid driving me to school?”

 

She smiled. “Droids don’t drive. Yet. One day in the future, they will.”

 

“When I grow up, I’m going to develop the best droids. They will drive and fly and no human will ever be in danger.”

 

“That is a noble goal,” Marie agreed.

 

They passed the rehabilitation center. A man in a wheelchair entered through the automatic doors.

 

“Why don’t we see children there?”

 

Marie’s stomach clenched. This was the same question John asked in the elevator. “Because you are unique and special, beloved. And you remember not to tell anyone that your double can divide in two. Your uniqueness would not make the other children happy.”

 

“Do you really think they want to be like me? I can make my droids divide.”

 

“In the future, beloved. For now, please remember to keep our secret.”

 

The droid rolled his eyes.

 

Marie laughed. “When did you learn to do that?” She imagined her son’s hands on the droid dashboard. Her boy was growing up.

 

At the school ground the droid kissed her, grabbed his backpack, and ran to his friends in the playground.

 

On the way home she remembered John’s birth. The tests had revealed his paralysis and the doctor had ordered his elimination. Marie and her husband had disappeared with him in the night and spent the next eighteen months on the run. They managed to change their names and get high paying jobs in another state. By the time John turned three and his father had died, they had a droid for him and no one had known the difference.

 

Part of that came from the practice of doubles for children. No one suspected the modification for John’s. When he grew too old for the previous double, as he was rapidly doing now, they went on an extended holiday, part of which was spent in the Hinterlands where modified droids were available.

 

An unknown volo occupied her driveway when she returned. She hurried in. Two men drank tea that Angie had provided in the living room.

They both stood. One stepped forward with a badge.

 

“Twelve years, Mrs. Murphy. That’s a long time to hide.”

 

Marie thought of her son upstairs. They could not eliminate him now. She would bear whatever punishment they gave her, knowing her son had grown into his full humanity.