M.O.M

I pressed a small red button on the left-hand side of the gate, it buzzed loudly, and swung open. I quickly retreated behind the silver travel pod, my glasses nearly falling off my face as a solid brown Labrador came bounding toward me. “Glitch!” A sweet, soft voice rang from the porch of the farmhouse. A thin woman in her late 30’s dressed in a floor length green sundress and a knitted crème shawl approached from the house. Her long silver hair fluttered around her tanned face, and I met her bright, radiant blue eyes. “You must be Mr. Sharp.” She stopped short of the gate as the dog clumsily galumphed to her side. “I am Lizette Hanson. Please,” She motioned toward the house. “I’ve made tea.” We were led through a very solid white door. To the left was a small seating area staged in front of a curved bay window, lined with soft cotton curtains. Lizette motioned to the couches and armchairs gathered around a small circular coffee table.

“Ms. Hanson, I am Oliver Sharp, this is my associate Jilian Owens.” Lizette nodded towards Jill "Please take a seat.” I took a seat on a white canvas couch, lined with plaid throw and knitted blankets. Jill sat next to me and Lizette sat across from us in a wooden rocking chair on the other side of the table. She reached for a metal tea pot and poured three glasses of what looked like black tea into small elaborate China cups. “Well, we don’t want to take up too much of your time, Ms. Hanson, so we will get right into it.” Jill spoke so smoothly and sweetly, with direction and purpose. I fumbled with my files. Lizette smiled “Alright, what is it you would like to know?” Jill leaned forward slightly “we would like to know what you recall about...” She paused “M.O.M... We understand you were raised by the android your father invented. Would you mind telling us how all of that came about?”

Lizette smiled gently into her cup of tea as if recalling a fond memory. “My Father, Dr. Joseph Hanson, was a tinkerer. He built and coded all sorts of automated robotics like his father before him. She chuckled to herself. “My grandparents became restless that he would never leave the house and make a life for himself. They were worried that my father would never find love... But he eventually met my mother.” Everyone knew that Lizette’s mother passed away during childbirth, and that her father had invented M.O.M to care for Lizette in her mother’s absence. “My grandparents were adamant about having grandchildren.” She reached to her left to a small old photo book sitting on the chair next to her and flipped it open before sliding it across the table. The page showed a small photo of a young, scraggly-looking Joe Hanson, and an absolutely stunning young woman in her early twenties with coppery skin, silver wavy hair, and bright, almost gleaming blue eyes.

“As you know,” Lizette continued. “Something went wrong during delivery. My mother sustained too much blood loss and passed away before I was even born” She closed her eyes “You see, my father was simply too busy to raise a baby. The Doctors handed me to him, he held me for a total of five minutes before getting hard to work to invent...her.” She nodded back at the book, and turned the page. The next photo was that of a small bundle of dark skin, blue eyes and pink blankets, being held by gleaming, sleek silvery hands. The photo next to it, was one I had seen a thousand times. It was M.O.M, or the Maternal Operations Monitor, the artificial intelligence android that Joseph Hanson had invented to care for his newborn daughter. It sat in a pale white room, gleaming silvery extremities folding out from a sleek, slim frame. Its face was rounded with a pointed chin, high cheekbones, and large, bright blue glowing lights for eyes. The internal machinery visible only along the neckline and through the glass at the back of the head. She sat very properly, almost smiling, with her sleek dainty hands folded in her lap.

“What was she like?” The words left my mouth before I knew I was speaking them. “M.O.M was gentle. She was kind.” Lizette looked down and nodded. “She was programmed to learn my cries and analyze what they meant to provide a solution. She could prepare a bottle, change a diaper, and lull me to sleep the same as any human woman could. My father said I spent so much time crying, even when I had been fed, changed and had slept. There was always something... missing. He said the crying is why he moved his shop to the barn.” She nodded to the left out the bay window. There, in the distance stood a reddish-brown building, dilapidated and falling apart. The doors had fallen off their hinges long ago, and the entryway loomed in front of a large dark area. There seemed to be a loft in the top half, with dirty cracked windows peering over the canal that ran next to it. A single willow loomed nearby with an old tire swing, swaying in the breeze. I picked up the old photo album. “May I?” I questioned. Lizette nodded and continued “Father spent every waking moment out there, inventing the auto-farmers you see today. M.O.M and I spent our days here in this house. She taught me how to crawl, walk, talk, eat and tie my shoes. She had access to every parenting and child development website, e-book, and video available.” I flipped through the worn pages of the old album, glancing at photos of the android, M.O.M, and Lizette. There were photos of them cooking together and playing in the yard.

“To me, she was my mother. My mentor. She recited stories to me every night on my request, nursed me when I was sick, took me shopping for my first date.” Lizette continued. “But you’re not here to hear about all that, are you Mr. Sharp?” I looked up from the album into those penetrating blue eyes. I laid the book down. “While I do find this all fascinating,” I paused nervously. “I want you to tell me about the...accident. My thesis is important research into the safety of android caretakers.” Lizette seemed unbothered by the request. "Well...” Lizette took in a sharp inhale. “I was turning 18 that month. M.O.M had suggested a big birthday with my friends. I didn’t have many, you see. Not many people in this small community were fond of my father’s work. The way they saw it, his machines would put them out of a job. My father came in the night before the party.” Lizette smiled sadly into her tea. “He sat down at the table. He had never done that before.” Lizette lowered her voice. “He told me that since I was turning 18, and no longer needed a nanny, it was time to de-activate M.O.M.”

Lizette paused; I could tell this was getting difficult for her to talk about. “It’s okay, take your time.” Jill finally interjected. Lizette smiled at her. “I became upset. I told him she was my mother and he couldn’t do that to her. He tried to explain that the longer she remained active, the higher the chance became that she would defect. And he felt like he had started to see signs of that happening. He said he had seen her sitting on the porch early in the morning before I awoke for the day, just... sitting there. I told him that she enjoys watching the sunrise over the fields in the morning and if he had paid any attention, he would have noticed she does that quite frequently.” She gritted her teeth. “I shouldn’t have said that to him. He became angry and told me that ‘androids don’t do that Lizette’. He... sort of snapped. He said “I’m shutting her down after your birthday party and that is final!” and slammed his fist down on the table. And something...snapped in M.O.M too. She suddenly stood up and stepped between us. She reached forward and grasped his wrist and twisted it, hard. Father fell to his knees and cried out.” Her eyes got teary, and she sniffed, turning away and looking out the window toward the barn. “In 18 years of living with M.O.M, I had never been afraid of her until that moment. My father screamed, but she just stood there, completely still, expressionless. I just remember sobbing and saying ‘Mom, please let him go’. She released his arm. He got up, and glared at us both. He told me that this was enough proof, that he had not programmed her with any sort of violent reactions. I knew she was just trying to keep me safe. She felt like his anger was a threat and she simply reacted.” Lizette peered into her tea. “I don’t know if she was programmed with that or not. But looking back, it was an appropriate reaction.” There was a long pause. “I think...” she cleared her throat. “I think that she was upset about the thought of us being separated. The coders they interviewed on the news said that she acted in accordance to her programming. Her objective was to take care of me. Father was threatening to stop her from completing her objective. In the mind of A.I, she needed to remove the obstacle. But if you ask me, she was scared. She didn’t want to be alone. She didn’t want me to be alone.” She clenched her teeth as a tear streamed down her cheek. “The next morning, I found my father dead on the ground in front of the barn. His head was backwards. That’s all I remember.”

“The authorities deactivated M.O.M that day, is that right?” Jill asked quietly. “Yes.” “Did you get the chance to ask her about what happened?” “No. They never gave me the chance. They hauled her away in a wooden crate like she was nothing more than a box of parts.” I fiddled with my pen. “But in the 18 years you were in her care, you don’t recall a single moment of her being aggressive or unsafe around you?” I asked. “No... M.O.M was always gentle. She never even raised her voice. I'm not sure if she was even programmed to.” I rubbed my eyes under my glasses. “The general consensus of the programmers in my course is that androids are too dangerous to be left alone to care for children due to this type of defecting. But it doesn't seem to me like she was defecting at all. More like, adapting and reacting. That type of behavior can be coded out.” I was mostly thinking out loud. “It’s a shame the authorities took her away. I would have loved to have been able to reboot her, and study these ‘defects’ if that’s what they were.” Lizette fiddled with her now empty teacup “I wouldn’t change a thing about her. I think she’s perfect the way she is.” Jill stiffened. “You mean was?” Lizette smiled at me; her bright blue eyes lit up with a sort of excitement. “I love my mom. Everything she did was to protect me. To keep me from being alone in this empty world. If you think it would help the rest of the world understand, to show them she’s not a monster...” Her voice trailed off. “Lizette... you have M.O.M here?!” Jill’s voice was low, and I leaned forward studying Lizette. “Would... would you like to meet her?” Lizette flashed a devious grin and turned toward the barn. In the pitch black of the rotting building, a flash of blue caught my eye. I stood, and squinted into the barn entrance. Peering back at us illuminating the darkness, were two bright blue glowing eyes.