The Weapon - Resurrection - part 17
By Diana the Valkyrie
Duncan returns
Update: 09/06/2003 to valkyrie05



I woke up the next morning feeling good about something, and I tried to
remember what it was. The mists of sleep gradually cleared, and I felt Wendy's
powerful arms round me. It's not that she was holding me tightly, it's just
that I kind of knew they were strong. And she had me wrapped up in her cape,
which felt good. And then I remembered what I felt good about, we'd spent most
of the evening talking about Duncan, and she hadn't cried once, or even misted
up.

"You're awake," she said, softly. I blinked a couple of times, to demonstrate
the truth of that statement. Then I blinked a couple more times, and just lay
there, enjoying the feel of her body pressed against mine. "So, don't you want
to know what I've worked out?" she asked. I didn't actually want anything,
just to lie there. But she clearly had something to tell me. "OK, what
conclusion have you come to?"

"I know where Duncan is now." "Yes. He's dead." "Yes, but. We were very close,
you know. Very close. We were together for twenty seven years. And with my
digital memory, I can remember every precious second of that. And it isn't
just what he said and what he did, I could practically tell you what he was
thinking. No, I actually could tell you what he was thinking, at least some of
the time." "So you have a lot of great memories." "Yes. I do. And I've been
taking them out and looking at them. And I was thinking about what you said;
the dead live on in the memory of those who cherish them." "Yes," I said,
carefully. "So I've spun up a handler, I've got a Duncan emulator now."

"Um. In English, please?"

"Oh, I forgot, you didn't know about this stuff." No she didn't, she never
forgot anything, this was a rhetorical device. "You know how you can think of
several things at once?" "No, I don't, actually. I can only think of one thing
at a time." "No, David, that's not right. You're walking along, thinking about
something that just happened, right?" "Right." "You're doing at least four
different things at once. You're breathing, that's an autonomous handler which
you can override, or let run by itself." "OK" "You're walking, that's another
autonomous handler that runs by itself, the whole complex business of
balancing upright on two legs while making forward progress, it's immensely
difficult, and you have a handler for doing it. And you're directing the
walking; avoiding obstacles, stopping at the roadside to cross the road, not
stepping in yucky things. And the fourth thing you're doing at the same time,
is thinking about the thing that just happened. Humans can think about several
things at once, each thing is dealt with by a handler, and when you want to
start doing another thing, you just spin up another handler. Well, I work
exactly the same way, except spinning up a handler is more of a conscious
thing, and I can spin up more than you can, because I've got more computing
capacity in my processor than you do in yours, and a digital memory."

"I see."

"So, I spun up a handler to run autonomously, I let it share all the ordinary
inputs like sound and video, and I used my memories of Duncan to make it
behave like he would. It's my Duncan handler, my Duncan emulator. I know he's
dead, but he's also living on inside me. Well, not exactly living, but he's
emulating living, I mean, I can ask him things and he'll answer me. And I can
pipe his output through my voice handler, if I want to." "In English." "Um. I
don't have a tongue and vocal chords like you do." "Yes you do, I've seen your
tongue." She stuck it out at me. "Yes, but that's not what I use to make
sounds." "What do you use?" "I just move the air, pretty much the same thing
that the loudspeaker on your hi-fi does. Anyhow, I can pipe the output from
Duncan through to my voice-handler." "In English, please?"

"She means I can talk to you."

The voice was male. Deeper than a female voice, and with a different quality.
I don't know how I can tell a male voice from a female, but we can all do it,
pretty reliably. "Duncan?" I said. "Hello, David," he said.

I have to say, it felt weird. Uncanny. I was talking to a dead man, Wendy was
almost acting like a medium. Except this wasn't something from "beyond the
veil", this was a straightforward matter-of-fact emulation of a man, with
output through a loudspeaker. I realised that you could do the same job with a
PDA recorder; it was as if I was listening to a recording of Duncan. That made
it feel a lot less weird. "Er. Are you alright in there, Duncan?" "Just fine,"
he said, "you know, she always did try to wrap herself around me, now she
has?" and he chuckled. "Amazing," I said, and I looked up at Wendy's face.

She was smiling.

I hadn't seen her smile before. It was like the sun breaking out from behind a
thick bank of cloud, it was like moving from a bitterly cold place into the
warmth. It was like a transition from hell to heaven.

She was really gorgeous when she smiled. Up till now, all I'd seen was a range
of emotion from utter misery all the way up to somewhat sad. But now, now she
was showing me the other end of that.

"Wendy?" I said. "Yes?" she said, in her Wendy-voice. "I am so happy for you."
She smiled down at me and replied, "Me too, baby. Me too. I can look after him
now. And make him happy. And talk with him, ask his advice about things. Yes,
I know he's dead, David, but he lives on in my memory. I know you didn't mean
it literally, but you gave me the idea."

And you know, this isn't so far from what we humans do? Oh, we don't spin up a
full-featured emulator, but at difficult times, we'll ask ourselves "What
would my father have done", or "What would mother have said about this?".

And then she kissed me. Not the affectionate peck-on-the-cheek, not the warm
brush of lips on lips, but the sort of kiss that curls your toes, blows your
brain and makes your heart leap through your throat. Not to mention assorted
other effects on other parts of the anatomy. When she let me go, it was just
in time to avoid unconsciousness from oxygen starvation. "Mmm." I commented.
"Thank you," she said, "now I'll get breakfast, you get dressed."

By the time I got downstairs, she had eggs, toast, Marmite and cereal all laid
out and ready, and while I ate, she was planning the day. "It's a lovely day
outside, I want to go to the Zoo, and to Kew and then Hyde Park, and down to
the beach, and ..."

I let her talk, just basking in the warmth of her smile and the difference in
her attitude. When she paused for a moment, I asked "What will you wear?" She
stopped, and gave me a hard look. "You're still trying to get me to be The
Weapon again, aren't you?" "Yes." "I can't fly. Can you see me roaring into
action on a bicycle?" Hmm. Definitely the wrong image. "Seriously, David, I
want to hear your thoughts on this. I can do some stuff without flying, but to
be able to see off the Mazdas and Ahrimans, I've got to be able to get into
space, I need to meet them outside the orbit of Pluto, at least, preferably
beyond the Oort Cloud. Otherwise, if they're allowed to get too close, the
collateral damage could be nasty." "Collateral damage?" "Well, you know, you
miss a few shots and bang goes Mars?"

"So what will you wear?" "Until I can fly, I'm not going to wear my Weapon
costume, or my Flamingo." "Then what?" "Just civvies, babe. Jeans and a
t-shirt. Or a skirt. Like everyone else wears. Come one, let's go out!" "Wait
a moment, Wendy, I have to get some shoes on, I have to get my wallet, credit
cards. Glasses, tissues, PDA, spare batteries. A couple of bottles of water.
We're going to be out all day, maybe you can get by without logistics, but us
humans have to get ready for this sort of expedition."