My Good Friend Delany

It took Elsie two minutes flat to fortify the patch of carpet between the end table and the wall and the chaise. A soon as Nanny had stepped out of the room—“just give me one second, dear,”—Elsie had left her place at the big glass dining room table where her and Nanny had been working at school and dropped into the crawlspace next to the couch. 

After a moment's thought, Elsie hopped back out and grabbed her blanket and a pillow from the chaise. In the crawlspace Elsie stretched the blanket above her until it formed a canopy, and then she wedged the pillow up against the end table and the crawlspace went dark. Elsie crouched against the wall, in her makeshift bivouac, and smiled in a way that was equal parts satisfied and maniacal. One thing was for certain: Nanny would never find her in here.

Just as Elsie was starting to settle in, however, she heard the telltale chime from the entryway—someone was coming in—followed by the whir and click click click as the lock unlatched and the door slid open with a soft hiss. 

“Mrs. Adams. Let me help you with that.” 

Elsie peaked past the pillow and found Nanny setting a package down on the table. 

“Thank you Jean. Where’s Elsie?”

“She was just here. I left the room for only a second. Elsie?” called Nanny. “Elsie your mother is home.”

At the mention of her name, Elsie pushed the pillow back up against the end table. They could search and search for her, she decided, but tucked away here, in her fortress of solitude, discovery was out of the picture. Elsie was trying to decide how long she could make it before she would have to chance a trip to the fridge—it was dinner time after all—when someone stripped the blanket off from above her head.

“Hi, Elsie.”

It was Mom.

“You found me,” said Elsie, shocked.

“I did, dear. Your father is bringing company home tonight so I want you to tidy up before he gets here.” Mom frowned, “did you finish your work?”

“No. I made a fort.” 

“Well wash up and then you and I will get down to business while Jean fixes dinner. Ok?”

“Ok.”

Elsie lay on the white, tight-knit carpet while she did her work and Mom sat at the glass table, scrolling through the holo-display suspended in front of her. She was wearing a delicate, silver-framed eyepiece—just like the one Daddy had—and a thin stream of pale blue light flowed from it and into the holo-display. Elsie was too young to have an eyepiece. Instead, she held a bulky, school-issued tablet that smelled sharply of cleaning agents. 

“Don’t forget to carry over, Elsie,” said Mom.

Elsie frowned and tapped at the screen, her small fingers making an empty plink sound when they hit the hard glass. 

“That’s better. But look over four and six again. I see errors with both.” 

“Why don’t you just let the auto-teacher help me, Mom” asked Elsie. 

“It is better for you to learn with another person. I don’t like the auto-teacher, ok honey?”

“Ok.”

It was past six when the door rang again. Elsie was still at work on the floor and Mom was still at work at the glass table. Nanny had been in the kitchen for the past hour and the smells and sounds of oil sizzling on the grill—“onions and steak and asparagus,” said Nanny—were slowly driving Elsie insane. So when the door rang and the lock began to whir and click, Elsie nearly died of joy.

“Daddy!” she cried. 

Elsie dropped the tablet on the floor and hopped up onto her stubby legs—she was short for six, that’s what Nanny always said—and dashed to the foyer as though her salvation depended on it. 

“Hey, Elsie kiddo,” said Dad. He ruffled her hair till it stood on end and then dropped his heavy coat over her head.”

“Hey, no fair.”

“Where’d you go, Elsie? Where’d you go.”

“No fair, Dad.”

Elsie pulled the coat off from over her head and Dad took it from her and put it on the rack between Mom’s coat and Elsie’s coat. 

The door slid open a second time and Elsie glanced over at the noise.

“Elsie, this is my good friend Delany,” said Dad, then to his friend, “this is my daughter, Elsie. You’ll get along well with her.” 

“Hi, Ms. Adams,” said Delany in a measured voice. He was a tall man, but younger than her father, Elsie decided. Delany’s hair was light, blonde like her own but where Elsie’s was curly, Delany’s was cut neatly and in such a way that it seemed to fit perfectly with his even face.

“Stop staring Elsie,” said Dad, and then once again to Delany, “we don’t have company often.”  

“You’re very clean,” said Elsie, then “I like your suit. Can I take your jacket.” 

Delany smiled, “no thank you, Ms. Adams.”

“You can call her Elsie.”

“No thank you, Elsie.” 

Elsie sat next to Delany at the glass table and Delany sat across from Dad. Mom had disappeared when the door rang, but now she came back with her hair up and wearing a loose grey dress. 

“This is my wife, Nora,” said Dad, “and this is my good friend Delany.” 

“It's nice to meet you, Delany.”

“And you as well, Mrs. Adams.”

“Please, call me Nora,” Mom laughed and Elsie thought she looked very beautiful.

Mom and Dad and Delany began to talk—well Dad mostly, Delany spent a good deal of the time nodding and smiling politely, and Mom only ever stepped in here and there to explain something Dad hadn’t explained well enough. Elsie just sat and pulled at the collar of her shirt while she watched Delany listen to her parents talk. He seemed to smile a lot and his voice never changed from that same, steady timbre, but Elsie noticed how Delany couldn’t seem to stop tapping his left hand against the side of his leg. It was a stilted, staccato beat and there was something about it that didn’t fit with Delany’s perfect composure. 

Then Nanny brought out dinner and Elsie lost all interest in Delany. 

“Make sure to cut your steak up real well,” said Mom.

Elsie nodded and reached across her plate for the steak while Nanny frowned at her from the other side of the room. Elsie didn’t care. It was food time. With her fork, Elsie skewered a big, juicy piece of steak and brought her kill back to her plate. 

“Watch your glass, dear,” said Nanny, “and have some vegetables with that. You’re an omnivore not a carnivore” she added, setting a handful of asparagus on Elsie’s plate. Elsie frowned but there was nothing to be done for it. 

“Would you like some asparagus with your steak, Delany,” asked Mom. 

Delany’s plate was empty and Nanny hovered behind him with the asparagus. 

“Delany is fine, darling,” said Dad, looking at Delany. Dad picked at his food as he watched him. His plate was full but he hadn’t touched it yet. 

“Peter, I’m sure he is hungry.”

“He really is fine.”

Mom frowned and saw Dad picking at his food, “did you stop somewhere on the way home.”

“No.”

“Well then why wouldn’t he be hungry?”

Delany shifted uncomfortably and Dad put on a smile, just as one would change into a new shirt. 

“You remember that project I’m working on?” asked Dad. 

“Yes,” said Mom, “but I don’t see—”

“Well bear with me.”

“Elsie, use your napkin, dear,” said Nanny.

“Ok.”

Elsie wiped at her mouth with the napkin and then went back to watching the Delany show.

“Delany works with me on that.”

“And what does this have to do with Delany not being hungry?”

Elsie wondered why Delany wasn’t speaking for himself. 

“Delany is the project, really.”

Mom gave Delany a long, hard look.

“Do you mean—”

“He’s an android, Darling.”

“Oh.”

Delany’s tapping grew faster. 

“We try not to mention it.”

Elsie pulled at Delany’s sleeve, “you’re an android?” she asked, “that’s so cool. Can you open your chest?”

“Elsie!” said Mom. 

After dinner Elsie rebuilt her fort in the corner of the living room while Mom and Dad talked and Delany sat there. Mom had kicked off her shoes and was lying on the chaise while Dad sat across from her on the sectional with Delany. Dad was smiling—he seemed to find Mom’s reaction amusing—and Delany was perfectly still except for his left hand which he was running over the seam of the cushion he was sitting on.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was an android,” asked Mom. Elsie couldn’t make out Mom from her fort, but her voice came to her clearly, only a few feet from her head.

Dad shrugged, “he does look very convincing, doesn’t he.”

“Yes he does,” she admitted. “I’ve never seen an android with such a perfect face.” 

“We have been working on Delany for…” Dad paused, thinking, “six years now. You’re much more handsome than all those blank-faced Model-9s, aren’t you, buddy?”

Delany looked at Dad and nodded unenthusiastically. 

“He doesn’t like it when people notice he is an android,” said Dad.

“Why?”

“We made him that way. Delany wants to blend in and he finds it…” Dad turned to Delany, “how would you put it?”

“Uncomfortable,” said Delany. 

“Yes. He finds it uncomfortable when he stands out. We want the Delany-model—Model-10—to be a companion type, and then Simcore will use it as a prototype for all future models. Say bye bye to those cold-fish androids. Delany is the future.” 

There was a pause for a few moments and Elsie played with the seam of her pillow just like Delany. 

“It’s unnerving.”

“Only a bit,” said Dad, “Delany is perfectly harmless.”

“Asimov’s three laws?”

Dad snorted, “no, more like ‘Mr. Adams’ six-thousand and eight laws.’ You were a nightmare, Delany,” finished Dad, and he slapped his friend on the back. 

Elsie watched their whole conversation from a crack between the end table and her pillow barricade. She wished Mom and Dad would stop talking about Delany. He looked awfully uncomfortable.

“Is Delany the only… Delany or—” 

“No, no,” said Dad, “we have a few back at the office. Bob from 3708 took one home as well and Marty, you know Marty, and most of the senior staff. We’ve tested the Delany-model to death by now and this is just the joy-ride. I have to head back to the office in…” Dad checked his watch, “four hours. Delany can come back with me then.” 

“He’s fascinating.”

“He really is.”

Dad seemed rather proud. 

Elsie pulled her blanket-canopy down and stuck her head through the top of her fort.

“Can I use the looking glass room, Mom?” 

“Oh, Elsie. I forgot you were there,” said Mom, “honey, I had a long day and want to lie down for a bit. Maybe your father could take you?” 

Elsie glanced at Dad hopefully through the gap. 

“Delany can take you,” said Dad.

Mom sighed, “Peter, I am really not so sure—”

“It’s fine. Delany knows how to handle the looking glass. And kids,” Dad laughed, “he knows how to do more than both of us do.”

“Delany will take you then.” 

Elsie popped out of her fort and shimmied over the edge of the couch, avoiding Mom’s head, until she could drop to the floor on the other side.

“Let’s go, Delany,” said Elsie. She ran over to him and grabbed his hand and Delany stood up and followed her as she led him out of the room. 

Elsie let go of Delany’s hand at the looking glass room. Delany tapped at the panel beside the door and it slid open to reveal the antechamber. Elsie stepped into the antechamber and Delany came in after her. The antechamber was a small, windowless room. The walls were white, but unlike the rest of the house they were paneled, and metallic to the touch. There was a circle in the middle and when Delany crossed the threshold it began to glow with the same, soft blue light as Mom’s eyepiece. After a moment the circle put up a holo-display around Delany. 

Elsie waited, bouncing on the balls of her feet as Delany sorted through the holo-display. He appeared calm as he worked and Elsie thought it hard to believe that Delany could be an android. 

“Do you have any preference for what scene the room will simulate, Elsie?” asked Delany.

“Preference?”

“Where do you want to go?” 

“You pick, Delany.”

Delany seemed surprised by her words. He looked at Elsie for a second, as though studying her, then smiled and went back to the holo-display. 

“This one looks nice.” 

Elsie watched as Delany locked in his choice. His fingers moved deftly, almost as though they had a will of their own. Delany’s steady gaze seemed odd next to his spider-leg fingers. 

“This should only take a minute,” said Delany. The room beyond the antechamber began to rumble. Elsie put her hand up against the wall and she could feel a strange, electric buzz pass through it. 

The door across from them rang and Delany stepped out of the holo-display. 

“The looking glass room is ready.”

They were in a field with tall, pale yellow grass stalks. At the end of the stalks the grass formed into a kind of loose head. Elsie plucked one of the stalks and ran her hand up and down it, then pulled at the head and watched as it crumbled in her hand. Some of it clung to Elsie’s fingers, but she wiped her hands against her pants and the fibery bits fell away. 

“What is this?” she asked Delany. 

“Wheat,” he replied, pulling a stalk for himself, “it is a cereal grain that was once quite common. The bread that you eat is made from a synthetic copy of this.” 

“You are wheat,” said Elsie, inspecting the grass stalk. 

“I would not recommend trying to eat it.” 

Elsie frowned and dropped the stalk. 

The area around them had been cleared and as Elsie soaked in the looking glass landscape, she saw that they were standing in the middle of a long, thin path that cut through the field of wheat. And that was it. As far as Elsie could see there was the path and then the sea of wheat on either side. It was a strange place and Elsie had never seen anything like it before, even in the looking glass room. 

They walked for a long while. Elsie led the way and Delany followed. Elsie tried to cut through the grass, but Delany wouldn't let her. “We stay on the path,'' he said. So they did. There were birds in the grass, Elsie soon saw—she did know what a bird was, even if she had never seen a real one—and they would chirp and sing until Elsie came close and then the birds would stop or fly away out of the grass and into the midday sky. 

“Do you like birds, Delany?” asked Elsie. 

“Yes.”

“Me too.”

  Elsie couldn’t say how long they walked for, but it seemed a very long while to her before the path finally opened up and they had reached the end of the field. Elsie skipped out of the field and onto the green grass she was familiar with. It felt good against her bare feet and she wiggled her toes through the grass and tried to pull up bits of it with her feet. There was another dirt path a little ways ahead, and across from that was a large, broad red building with a small house beside it. 

Elsie knew the houses would be empty.

“You never see anyone in the looking glass, do you?” she asked.

Delany shook his head. 

“It is peaceful, but also very lonely. Not like at home. There are always people there and lots and lots on the programs.”

Elsie plopped down onto the ground, and after a moment, Delany moved to sit beside her and the sun burned down on the two of them. Elsie knew it was only a simulation, but it felt so good, sitting there and baking—her skin was warm to the touch—until her thin shirt stuck to her back and she had to wipe at her brow clear the sweat. It wasn’t often that Elsie got to see the sun. 

Elsie glanced over at Delany and saw that he was smiling. It was a half-smile, but it seemed honest as though Delany and Delany alone was the only one responsible for it. 

“I’m sorry they were upsetting you,” said Elsie. She reached over and patted Delany on the shoulder of his suit, “If it weren’t for Daddy saying it was so I would never have known you were an android.” 

“Thank you, Elsie,” replied Delany, after a moment. 

“You’re welcome,” said Elsie, just as Mom had told her to. She kicked the grass and managed to tear up a clod of it. “You picked well. This is a good place.” 

Delany nodded.

“You like it here?” asked Elsie.

“Yes. It is a nice place.”

Elsie bobbed her head up and down, “Yes, yes. It is a very nice place.” Then she added, “I’ll miss you when you leave, Delany.”

Delany tilted his head to the side and considered her.

“You’ll miss me too, won’t you.”

He nodded, “Yes. I expect I will.” After a moment’s thought he added, “Come. We should go back now, Elsie.”

“I know. But it is a good place.”

“It is,” said Delany. 

Delany held out his hand and Elsie took it. For the first time she noticed how cold Delany’s fingers were. 

“I know the way,” said Elsie, “so be sure to follow me”