Thank You for Your Kindness

Who knew that this would happen when we elected an optimist?

Her kindly face covers the entire screen at the front of the conference room, as we watch her prattle on about the history of kindness. Joyous yellow paint brightens the otherwise office-like décor. An electronic bulletin board at the side of the room scrolls through images of various pictures drawn by public school children from across the nation. My family sits at the end of a long conference table. Cute metallic robots bring us food and drink, while we wait and watch the president on the screen:

“Greed and narcissism destroyed the world a hundred years ago. Out of the ashes, a wise group of world leaders determined that kindness should be the imperative. The mission. The hope for future generations.”

My eyes drift over to one of the members of my future generation, my daughter, Vivienne. Her anxious fingers toy with the heart-shaped locket around her neck, a locket that has been in our family for four generations. A symbol of strength for the women of my family. A memento from my namesake, my great-grandmother, Anya…

She was the first soldier of kindness who founded the Society of Empathy almost a hundred years ago. She a self-declared empath. She motivated and moved people to change, along with all her colleagues, of course. She would probably be upset with me if I said she was a one-woman show. She prized humility and giving everyone credit, everyone except herself…

I do not think what’s happening now is what my great-great grandmother intended.

My husband, Oliver, squeezes my hand. He knows that I am anxious. He is as well. My mind flickers back to just this morning…

Before sunrise. I awoke in a comfortable bed. The government’s luxurious resort had all the comforts of home, plus other amenities, provided during the two days that our children were taking the Empathy Test. I watched the red, orange, and yellow pour above the horizon. The music of Oliver’s snoring somehow brought me comfort...

All that comfort is gone now. I force myself to look at our president on the screen again:

“We made certain that all citizens completed community service, giving the more privileged among us more projects to participate in, so that they would learn empathy. All citizens. Young and old.”

Images of people building houses for others splash across the scene. To my surprise, I see footage of a younger Oliver and me digging up a garden together. How did they know? That was the very day that he and I met. Love at first sight for him, but I was a bit more skeptical. Feelings of nostalgia and fear tumble through my stomach. Running through my head are visions of our first date, our first kiss, the first time we told each other “I love you”. Why am I remembering this now? The president pontificates on:

“We completely reformed the police department, required equality from the justice system and reprogrammed the incarceration organization from top to bottom. We tried to rehabilitate people with deviant issues and got them the help that they needed. If they could not be helped, we kept them comfortable… and kept them away from society.”

A teenaged sigh comes from the other side of the room as our son, Xavier, declares that it was no big deal. Jails are just luxury apartments now. And that at least they aren’t like the ancient jail cells where the bathroom and bedroom were in the same room. Vivienne yells across the table that they could lose their freedom. Xavier rolls his eyes at his sister. Before we know it, the robots bring snacks to both teenagers. One declares that they must pay attention to the president:

“We eradicated homelessness. We developed technology. We cured cancer and a host of other diseases. Violent crime decreased to almost zero. And we brought Mother Earth back to life. All because we made empathy and kindness a priority…”

My knee shakes nervously. My stomach turns into knots. If one or both of my children didn’t pass the president’s new test, they could go to rehabilitation. I don’t want to lose my children. As I sit anxiously, I jump as I see two hands on my shoulders, realizing it’s an android, giving me a shoulder massage.

The android speaks to me: “I am Kat. You seem nervous. Would you like some calming medication?” I decline. “Very well. Feel free to call on me if you need anything at all.”

Kat returns to her post in the back corner of the room. I look at my family. Vivienne and Oliver both look full of worry, but not Xavier. He is the only one among us who is calm. Xavier and the president, whose eyes seem to pierce unemotionally from the screen.

“The Empathy Test began as a means of preemptively beginning the rehabilitation process for students across the country. I am quite proud of the students who are completing the nation’s first Empathy Test. Parents, if your child has not passed the Empathy Test, do not worry. As was stated in your brochures, they will go through a brief rehabilitative program in one of our confinement facilities. After their rehabilitation, they will be returned to you.”

Vivienne suddenly stands up and yells out to the screen, “Tell that to the criminals in the Intensive Supervision program. No one has seen them since.”

“Vivienne, please.” Oliver looks at his daughter with concern on his face. Out of the corner of my eyes, I can see Kat taking electronic notes. My stomach turns over and over again. I take a deep breath to calm myself, remembering our last night at home...

The smell of homemade lasagna drifted in from the kitchen. I could hear Oliver singing as he finished up cooking. He looked up at me as I slowly walked in. He stopped chopping vegetables, set down his knife and asked me what was wrong.

“I’m just worried, my love. We could lose our children. Our whole family could be torn apart.”

Oliver cradled me in his arms. I was lost in their strength.

Our meal together was a joyful one. I couldn’t believe the twins had reached the milestone of Sixteen Years. Weren’t they just learning to crawl yesterday? Now they were about to take their Empathy Test. The two of them bicker with one another until Oliver brings out their favorite desserts: brownie a la mode for Xavier, and a prim and proper lemon tart for Vivienne. I savored every moment, recording it in my mind...

Metallic movement beside me brings me back to the present. My favorite dessert, a strawberry shortcake with whipped cream, slides before me. Then a brownie with perfect 90-degree angles slips in front of Xavier. A lemon tart, with no crumb out of place, is set in front of Vivienne. It chills my spine. This time, the meal is silent. Even Xavier only stomachs half of his brownie. Vivienne just stares at her perfectly made lemon tart, twisting her heart-shaped locket through her fingers. I don’t want to eat mine either, especially with the president’s soulless glare on screen:

“Remember everyone. It is your kindness that keeps this nation safe, beautiful, and very happy. Thank you for your participation in this very important procedure.”

The image of the president fades away. We each look at one another, not knowing what to say. I tell Xavier that he has ice cream at the corner of his lips. He clumsily licks it off. Oliver begins to hum the family’s favorite tune. Ode to Joy. Everyone joins in, except for Xavier who has always hated singing. Our anxious tune is cut short as police bots stomp into the room. They say nothing to us and just stand at the back of the room.

A thin and starkly dressed woman strides in after the police bots. She introduces herself as Camilla Rogers-Brown. She tells us that she is the counselor who administered the test for Vivienne and Xavier. The twins acknowledge that they know her. She stoically marches to the front of the room. The test results are in. She turns to Vivienne.

“Vivienne Rommad, you have passed the test.”

We break out in joy! We embrace one another. But Camilla’s unemotional eyes remain unchanged. An empathetic smile crosses her lips as she asks us to settle down. She turns to Xavier.

“Xavier Rommad, you have failed the test.”

Before any of us can move, two of the police bots grasp Xavier’s arms. As I watch my son being pulled away, I cry out “Baby, I love you.” The door shuts soundly and a deafening silence fills the room. I run over to Vivienne and hold her close. I look at the stoic Camilla.

“What’s going to happen to him?” Oliver asks.

“He will be safe. That is all you need know,” comes her robotic reply.

A realization splits over my mind. Her voice is not human. Her eyes are not human. “You’re—you’re an android…” I stammer.

“Yes, Anya Rommad. I am what humans call an android.” And then an odd smile crosses her lips. “Aren’t we all in some ways?”

I slump into my chair.

Camilla looks at the three of us. “Please check out of your resort room and return to your normal lives. We will inform you when Xavier Rommad has completed rehabilitation. Thank you for your kindness.”

Camilla glides out of the room. Overcome, Vivienne and I burst into tears. Oliver comforts us. Kat cautiously approaches us. “I can lead you back to your room now.” Still in shock, I nod. Vivienne slowly rises out of her chair. Kat looks at her curiously. She approaches my daughter.

“Hello, human Vivienne Rommad. I am Kat.” Vivienne only nods. Kat continues. “Please inform me how you received this locket.”

Vivienne is terrified of the android towering over her, so I speak up. “It was my great, great grandmother’s. She passed it down to all of us.”

“Interesting,” says Kat. Suddenly her robotic voice disappears. It is replaced by a sweet voice, a mix between robot and human. “You are special, Vivienne Rommad. Very special.”

Oliver demands an explanation. Kat shakes herself. Her robotic voice returns:

“Please return to your room and pack up your things. Check out of your resort room and return to your normal lives. We will inform you when Xavier Rommad has completed rehabilitation. Thank you for your kindness.”

Immediately, her sweet voice returns. “Do you enjoy tea?”

The three of us nod in agreement at Kat.

“We shall have tea tomorrow,” said Kat, surreptitiously slipping me a card with a communication code on it. Something about the card makes me feel relief. I turn to Kat and say:

“Thank you for your kindness.”

Kat nods and steps in front of us, leading us to our room at the resort. Oliver, Vivienne and I hold hands together, walking through the ominous corridors of the building. The president’s face adorns the halls unapologetically, and more so than ever, I cannot help but notice the depth of her truly unemotional eyes.