So, hear nah. This is how it happen.
Was years after Malcolm pass through and wash away a lot ah we little islands coasts, and mash up so much ah Florida and Texas and them places, and people say they ain’t waiting for no next storm like that one, and they pack up they things and went England, and Canada, and all over.
I done old, and my children was living Germany and Kenya and my youngest was down in Australia where hotter than here, so I didn’t see no point in going from where I live my whole life. My Lincoln bury here, and we house good and strong. My oldest, Susan, she send money for me regular, and Lincoln like new thing, just like me, so he fix up the house and fix up the house until even that monster storm only cost me some windows and a little mason work on my concrete roof from what they call impact debris.
Long story short, I stay in my village with a few families and the only problem was some ah we getting old for the garden and the little animal we keep. Chickens get out, if the children not around, is trouble to catch them back. Cow wandering the street after it get frighten because somebody drone fly too low on delivery.
My problem was Ignatius.
Which is to say, he ain’t no real problem. He just a normal goat, white and brown and tall as my hip. Wasn’t he alone I keep all that time. I had a small herd I used to get nice milk from. Even try to make some cheese once. (That ain’t come out so good, but that’s a next story.) When they start getting on in years, I make a cook with neighbours and we curry it down with a little roti on the side with channa, potato and chataigne, and some beers; was meals for days.
That was village life. Real nice with everybody helping out everybody and the children belong to all ah we. World change, a lot ah the children move on, and the families that still here keep to theyself, so now is just Ignatius and me and I let him keep the grass low in the yard because Lincoln gone and I can’t operate no weed-wacker bot.
Well after I fall that one time and break my hip and they give me a new one in the big hospital in Town, I start to get trouble on the days my yard clear of grass to go down the veranda stairs and take the goat out to the empty lot down the track. Didn’t have nobody around in the day to help. All the families working and the children either in school or inside doing school online if they still rebuilding from the storm. But Ignatius can’t eat if I don’t take him, so I was forcing myself to go. Then I trip on the way back ah day, and thank God Neighbour see me go down because I would have been waiting for help to get back up all now.
I had a delivery service for meals, and a nice young boy come and clean for me once a week, but I couldn’t afford no pet services and I know my children would say, Mammy, just cook him or give him away and done. But he was my little company around the yard. Just he alone I sit down with sometimes to talk to in the dead ah night, or the heat ah the day, and he always have time for me, listening while he chewing on something and watching me with he funny rectangle eye what all goat have.
Well, I have to say I tell one lie, and that is Ignatius have one problem and is the chewing. He chew on anything, especially what he don’t like. That is why I can’t get no pet service because I try, and he run them out the yard and keep they shoes for food. Ever since, is only me Ignatius like. Lincoln and all leave him alone after he come home and try to feed him one day at the top of the little rise behind we house, and Ignatius take one look at he bend over ass and butt the man down the hill. After I stop laughing (because if you ain’t dead or seriously injured, I go laugh), he say was my goat and he wash he hands off him.
People say he bad-tempered but really he just know who he like, and sometimes that ain’t you. But we was always good, and I didn’t have the heart to eat him. He was probably too old to taste good anyway. But he keep getting away and he needed tying up and bringing back, and I didn’t know what to do again.
Point is, I mention to my second daughter, Paula, who living in Germany, how hard it was getting to go out to the garden some days, and how things was with Ignatius, and because Paula not judgemental like Susan, she send me a package and tell me to expect the drone.
Bright and early ah Tuesday morning I hear the whirring outside and when I peak through my living room curtains is because a big box so on my veranda and Ignatius done traipsing over with he leash trailing to see what he could chew. I reach out and take up the box and close the door and then I sit down in my favourite armchair in front the hologram projector Lincoln buy the year before he die and I read the label.
FARMHAND 4200!
It say. And in small print below:
AI Guided Nanotechnology Solutions To Your Farming Needs
And in real fine print:
10 Year Warranty with Money Back Guarantee
(Certain conditions apply)
Well, I say to myself, that sounding good. And I touch the corner of the box where it had a big green patch say “touch me.” Box make a little chirp and then peel down on all sides like a Julie mango and sitting in the middle was a ball of transparent package tape. Next thing I know, the tape tent a little at the top, then a blade appear, and slice the tape away.
Well, I bawl out and jump off the chair. Same time, a silvery thing the size of a cricket ball roll out the middle of the tape and stop right in front me. A little face light up in green on the top of it. Two circles for eyes and a bendy line for a mouth, like them emoji thing I used to text with as a child.
“Greetings owner,” the ball say in ah English accent like Lincoln boss-man used to have. “No need for alarm. I’m your new Farmhand 4200!” The little blade that was poking out the side melt down so it was a smooth ball again. “Thank you for your purchase! Kindly remain still while I perform preliminary security and software updates.”
Next thing I know, the ID band the government use to give we healthcare and send my pension and thing make a beep. Then it talk soft and sweet like a lady. “Linking,” it say. “Farmhand 4200 detected. Downloading app. Download complete. App ready for use.”
The green face make a grin and the ball roll as if excited. “Hello, Mrs. Merle Huggins, I’m your new farmhand! I’m very pleased to meet you and begin our farming adventures together. Please note, your Digital ID device has been linked to me and will provide you with updates on my tasks, location, battery life, and other functions.
“However, as a Farmhand 4200, I’m fully self-sufficient and require only ten minutes in daylight per day in order to recharge. I’m programmed to handle numerous farming emergencies and am enabled for research and adaptation should anything fall outside of the over 200 possible scenarios I’ve been initiated with. Your daughter, Paula, has sent you a message which I shall now play for you.”
The little face change to yellow and pause on a smile instead of the wide grin it had before. “Hi Mammy,” my daughter voice say, and it make me jump because it was like she was in the room with me and as I listen she, tears come to my eyes because is years I ain’t see she and she the one daughter give me grandchildren. “I hope you like this. You said you needed some help and Jonas says this is the top-of-the-line AI bot for farmers in the Rhineland. It can help you with the garden and that damn goat.” Her laugh, big and boisterous like mine, take the sting out of her words. “Anyway, let me know when you get it and please try it out immediately and don’t just have it sitting in the kitchen like the waffle maker I got you for Christmas.”
I steups to myself but ain’t say nothing because I know she can’t hear me, but between you and me, what I going to do with a waffle maker, eh? What the hell is a waffle?
“Call me once you try it out. I want to know how it’s working. Love you, Mammy. Talk to you soon, okay?”
After that the smiling face go green again and the bot say, “End of message. Hello again, Mrs. Huggins, do you have any questions for me?”
I wrack my brains as I sit slowly in the chair. “What to call you, sir?”
“Whatever you wish, Mrs. Huggins.”
“Well first, don’t call me that. Everybody call me Tantie Merle.”
“Of course, Tantie Merle!”
I think a bit more. “What if I call you Lincoln? Was my husband name but he don’t need it no more, he gone now, and I used to saying it.”
The bot green face flicker, mouth round with surprise. “I would be honoured, Tantie Merle. My database shows that I’m the first Farmhand 4200 to receive a human name!”
“How much of you it have?”
“I’m a new model! 30,000 of me have been sold so far.”
“So, what they call the other Farmhand 4200?”
“29,999 are called ‘Farmhand 4200’,” he reply cheerily.
“And the other one?”
“It is called, Handy!”
I shake my head. Sometimes people not too creative, yes, oui.
“Well, you is Lincoln from now on.”
“I appreciate that very much, Tantie Merle. I am now ready for instructions. What tasks would you like me to attend to?”
So I take him outside to the bottom of the hill and show him the garden with my tomatoes and pigeon peas and corn and pimento peppers and cucumbers and herbs and whatnot, and it roll along beside me, somehow grown to the size of a beach ball, face always toward me with a big green smile. It was awkward talking to him at first, but by the time he grow pinchers to pick up and bury the packaging he come in because it suppose to breakdown into fertiliser, I forget is a robot I there with. He digging and pruning and what would take me whole morning he do in half an hour, and we talking whole time, me telling him all about the village and everybody in it. Then I take him to meet Ignatius.
First good thing, Ignatius just watch him and didn’t rush him at all. “Look, Ignatius,” I tell him, and wave to the bot that somehow not dirty or wet even after all the gardening. “I can’t go up and down with you no more so this is Lincoln, he go tie you up from now on.”
Lincoln roll closer to Ignatius. “Greetings, Ignatius! Pleased to meet you! I’m honoured to be your handler from now on. I’ll find you the choicest parts of the field to feast upon!”
Ignatius watch him while chewing on some grass and fart a little bit.
“I think that went well!” Lincoln say, his green face making three happy circles that bounce around like ping pong balls.
“Okay, well let me show you where the lot is.”
Slowly, I walk Ignatius down to the lot with Lincoln and then I tap the button to disengage the stake I have there and carry it a bit further, to fresh grass, before setting it against the ground so it could drive itself automatically into the dirt. “You won’t have to move it every day,” I say. “He have a long leash.”
“Never fear, Tantie Merle. This is the last time you’ll have to do this job. I’ll collect Ignatius and return him to your domicile this evening.”
“That would be good,” I say, and give the goat a sharp look. “Now, Ignatius, don’t give Lincoln no trouble, eh.”
Ignatius just bend he head and start on the grass. As we turn back to the house, Lincoln say, “Is there anything else you require assistance with, Tantie Merle? I have many appendages and my adaptable hardware can create whatever is needed.” All of a sudden, he stop in the road and all kind of thing poke out of he, like a porcupine, except instead of quills, is knife and fork and shovel and hammer and screwdriver and ice pick and hands with claws and I had to stop and say, “Oh gosh, put all that away, you looking like you going and kill something.”
Everything melt back inside him. “Apologies, Tantie Merle.”
“You could just call me Tantie, that’s okay too,” I say distracted as a thought occur to me. “But wait nah. You could make hands?”
The ball breathed in and out and the green face glowed brighter. “I’m VERY good at hands. I am, after all, a farmhand!”
“Well, I have ah idea for what I would like next, if you don’t mind.”
Lincoln vibrate a little. That’s the way he get when he happy. “I would be delighted to hear it!”
And that is the first time Lincoln give me a massage, while I was sitting in front the projector, watching the weather channel and then the news. Rub my feet for hours. After that, he went and make the bed for me, and then he scrub the bathroom a little bit. I tell him leave the rest because the boy will do it on Friday, so then he sit with me while I eat my lunch. Saltfish and provision with some vegetables because things hard and a lot of food we used to eat we can’t import so easy now, they too expensive. But anyway, that is the good food that my grandparents used to eat, and they live long, and I was going on 85 years then.
Come time to go and get Ignatius and Lincoln roll up on me and announce he leaving, and I tell him see you soon, and then he let himself out by sending the code for the door. Was almost time for the news and I had a little crochet in my lap working on and so it was halfway through the news before I realise Lincoln should have come back already. I get up careful and went out on the veranda.
Light come on automatically and there is Ignatius, standing in the yard, leash tie to the Julie mango tree in front near the brick wall, but no sign of Lincoln. “Lincoln?” I call out. No answer. So, I limp down the stairs across to the goat, who chewing as usual, and when I get close, I realise he chewing on something that look silvery and hard and is then I realise the blasted goat eat Lincoln.
You know, I know him less than twelve hours, but when I realise Ignatius mash Lincoln up, real tears come to my eyes for the second time that day. I pull the little jagged piece from Ignatius mouth and carry it back into the house and rest it down careful on the mahogany cabinet in the living room where I keep all my wedding gifts and nice dishwares. I couldn’t make out what part of him it was from, but when I put on my glasses and watch it good, it look like it was moving, ripples running across it like quicksilver, though it wasn’t going nowhere and feel hard when I touch it.
I loss any interest in the news and in my dinner. Yes, partly it was because I thought I find somebody who could help me, but truth was, I was looking forward to talking to somebody beside Ignatius. And the poor thing was doing his best all day for me, and Ignatius just destroy him. I went straight to bed and lie down, tossing and turning, wondering what I will say to my daughter when I call she to tell she what happen in the morning.
Next day, I get up, put on one of my loose flowered dresses with no sleeves and tie my grey head up with a matching silk headkerchief and walk out my room—
“Good morning, Tantie Merle!”
—and I scream like somebody stab me when the voice talk to me from by the side of my foot. I look down and there is a small silver pyramid, barely bigger than my toe. A slightly fuzzy green face is on the side facing me.
“Oh dear. I didn’t mean to startle you.” The bendy line turn down at the corners. The eyes get small.
I wanted to pick him up and hug him, I was so glad to see him. “Lincoln, boy, is you? I thought Ignatius eat you!”
The face dim, looking a little sheepish. “He did, unfortunately. I must admit, he’s faster than he looks. Had my pincers torn off and my main body in his jaws before I realised what was happening.”
“How you here still then?”
“Ah!” the face brighten. “That’s due to my nanotechnology upgrade, which, thankfully, Paula had the foresight to include. I’ll have to wait until Ignatius expels the rest of me, but in the meantime, all of me is working to exit the unfortunate predicament 95% of my hardware found itself in, and to find a solution to this incident.”
I frown. “Lincoln, boy, that is a lot of big words first thing in the morning.”
“Once Ignatius shits me out, I will regroup and tackle the problem of how to avoid being eaten in the future.”
I shake my head. “I ain’t too want you tying up the goat again. You expensive and I rather you just stay safe. It have other things you could do, like take care of the garden.”
The little pyramid go very still and the eyes open wide while the mouth make a straight line. “Tantie, this is a primary task, agreed?”
“Yes, but that was before—”
“My programming demands that I pursue this task until I find a permanent resolution. The first attempt was clearly not the correct approach, and I have no entries in my incident database that correspond to being eaten by a goat, so there was no help there. However, I’m currently networking with other Farmhands to increase computing capacity and find the correct answer, faster. Kindly allow me to continue unimpeded.”
“Lincoln, I ain’t drink my tea yet, all them words…”
“It’s best if you get out of my way and watch me work.”
So, I leave him to it. Lincoln had a handle on everything else. He just needed to find a way to tie up Ignatius that didn’t end with him getting eat.
That morning, after I had breakfast, he glide out on he flat surface and I call Ignatius over to the veranda long enough for Lincoln to get the rest of heself from the pile of excrement by the mango tree. He went ‘round behind the house (to sanitise, he tell me), a pyramid trailing a silver-black tail. When he come into my kitchen later through the back door, I put my hands on my hips and say, “Aye, but look at you, nah.”
Lincoln come in looking like one ah them spike ball they swing in them medieval holoshows my husband used to like. He face had a spike right between he eyes and mouth, like a nose. He look fierce, but somehow he was rolling smooth on the ground.
“I modified a suggestion from an English Farmhand. I suspect Ignatius will think twice about putting me in his mouth henceforth,” Lincoln say, tipping back and forth on his spikes like he can’t wait to get going. He grew hands and waved them above his body like he was saying goodbye.
“I shall return shortly!” he tell me, and head out the back door. When he return in one piece, we considered it a success. “He was a perfect gentleman,” Lincoln say. “Settled in and started eating. Would you like a foot rub today while we watch a competitive knitting show? I couldn’t help but notice you seem to have a fondness for crochet.”
“It have them kind of show?”
“Why, of course! I shall download the projector control app.” The band on my hand beep and the holoprojector switch to ah channel I never know was there.
“But watch thing nah,” I say, awed and delighted. “I didn’t know it had other channels than news, weather, and Lincoln shows.”
Lincoln’s spikes recede and he roll onto the arm of my chair. “Your home entertainment package has several hundred channels, 100 of which are audio, but a dozen of which are considered craft and home channels. This particular channel is all knitting, all the time.”
“You joking!”
“Not at the moment,” he reply. “May I help in any other way?”
“Well, as you up here, my shoulders could use some of that nice massage.”
The day fly by with Lincoln at my side. Come evening, he push out he spikes and went to get Ignatius. When I ain’t see him come back, I get up and go outside just in time to see Ignatius toss back he head and swallow the last of Lincoln.
“But what the ass wrong with you, boy! You go eat something dangerous like that?”
Ignatius just watch me and went back to the grass. He mouth didn’t even self have a puncture, blood, nothing. But in the moment, I was more worried Lincoln was really gone this time. I walk back to my house slow, slow, fretting over why I let him try to tie up the goat again.
I sure you done guess what I didn’t realise. It real hard to destroy them Farmhand yes, oui.
When I wake up the next day, had a small misshapen set of pellets on the ground in the yard by Ignatius. I gather them up with gloves and put them in the sink in the backyard. Was Friday, so I get the boy to take Ignatius out to the lot and for he wickedness, I leave him there overnight. Saturday come and I walk out my room and find Lincoln sitting on my couch, looking like a rough nugget of silver, but I was so glad to see him, I pick him up and kiss him.
“It’s good to see you too, Tantie,” he say in a squeaky voice. He face was a misshapen blur. “I’m currently engaged in research, and placing several orders for materials to carry out my primary task. Kindly return me to my position. I’m afraid I lost some key function to stomach acid. This delayed my recombination and is also making multi-tasking difficult. Thankfully, as a precaution, I had already uploaded myself to the Farmhand network and other local servers, or I might have lost a great deal more of me.”
I put him down and scowl at him. “Lincoln, that is enough now. I not sending you by that goat again. What if he mash you up for good? Who will change channels for me and see ‘bout the garden?”
“Oh ye of little faith,” the bot have the gall to tell me. “I’m a Farmhand 4200, version 5.0. It will take more than teeth, stomach acid, and an anus to do me in. I’ve placed an order for upgraded nanobots to replenish my hardware and once they arrive, I will be able to try more sophisticated forms to prevent ingestion.”
“Lincoln, that sounding like a lot of money,” I say, and I fold my arms. “How I go afford that?”
“You are within the warranty period, and I have confirmed to headquarters that the damage was sustained in the course of primary duty. Replenishment in those circumstances is free of charge. My new bots should be delivered tomorrow.” He eyes narrow and he mouth turn up in a smile that look evil. “I have requested some modifications which should allow me to be less susceptible to destruction and also, change my flavour profile. A Singaporean Farmhand gave me the idea.”
“Flavour profile?”
“I should be less tasty to the fiend,” he explain.
“I ain’t know how to tell you this,” I say, “but it have nothing goats ‘fraid to put in their mouth. They don’t care how you taste.”
He eyes narrow even more. “We shall see.”
When Lincoln get he new nanobots he could ah get so big now, he was the size of a large dog. He turn heself into a whirling set ah dangerous blades on top a tentacle that twist and slide on the ground like a snake. And he show me how he could secrete a shiny oil that make him slippery and taste bad. “He will fear the look of me as I approach,” Lincoln declare.
“You don’t smell too good either. You sure them blades won’t hurt him?”
Lincoln stop spinning in shock. “I would NEVER hurt Ignatius. Curse the fiend to the heavens for his infinite hunger, but he is your valued companion, and it is my honour to take care of him on your behalf.”
“You know,” I say gently as I move back and forth in the rocking chair on the veranda, a tall glass of mauby juice on the wicker table next to me. “You is my valued companion too. I don’t want you to get hurt either.”
“Tantie Merle,” he voice make a slight warble. He green face blink. “I’m…deeply touched by your consideration. No Farmhand 4200 has ever been so welcomed into a household and treated with such care and attention. Usually, we are left in barns or out in the weather until needed. You will never know how much I appreciate that you brought me into your home, allowed me to experiment as I saw fit, and even knitted me my own nest on the couch. All the other Farmhands are currently processing how they might achieve this level of satisfaction for themselves.”
“But fear not. I cannot be hurt by Ignatius. And I WILL find a way for him to cease this constant consumption of my hardware.”
Well, I thought I was stubborn, but if I only tell you, I had nothing on Lincoln. Still, Ignatius make grown man cry and he wasn’t going down easy.
The snake thing last ah two days. Then Ignatius kick it against the outside wall, stomp on it and eat half before he get a bit stuck in his teeth and decide to leave the rest.
Turn out the bit that stick, stick on purpose. “An American Farmhand gave me the idea to train my nanobots to latch onto calcium deposits, or find soft palate areas to attach to for short periods of time. Ignatius will find chewing less comfortable and cease his destructive activities sooner,” Lincoln tell me as he lie in his nest recombining. That’s what he say he was doing. What I see was a big pile of shivering silver twisting up all how for hours. He voice get real crackly when he doing it, and sometimes I couldn’t see he face, but was still Lincoln, working hard to fix the problem.
Ignatius was like all goat though. What he can’t eat, he attack with hooves and horn. And sometimes, even after that, he still eat a piece. Lincoln had to admit I was right about the oil because Ignatius never so much as pause over he taste.
Sharp edges and whirling blades didn’t work, so Lincoln try liquidity next. He slip out the house and I limp over to the windows and watch a hand rise up from the puddle of silver, like if it pushing through foil, and unlatch Ignatius leash. I stay there until he come back, flowing into the house before becoming he familiar ball-self. “Shall we continue our crochet lessons?” Lincoln say as he roll up into he pink and blue bowl-shaped nest. “I think I have the hang of the basic stitch now.”
Lincoln had start crocheting with me the week before and I was teaching him to cook with some groceries he send for. The food was real bad. He kept trying all kind ah thing in a pot, looking for the correct solution, he say. But I tell him ain’t have no correct solution. Only how it taste. Then he say he can’t taste, what is that? So I explain how food have different flavour like sweet and bitter and salt and so on. That how you combine them does make thing taste good. I ask him if he can’t train the nanothing part ah heself to taste, and he get excited and start talking about alkalinity and acidity testing and some set ah other thing, so I say, let me leave you, yes. You go figure it out.
And he really start to figure it out in truth. Food start to taste better after he train some ah heself to research complimentary flavour profiles and test for balance, that’s how he explain it. And he spend hours teaching he fingers more dexterity as he make he way through chain stitch, moss stitch, puff stitch… Wasn’t no rhyme or reason, he just try a thing until he master it.
Except he couldn’t master Ignatius. Three days after he come up with liquidity, Ignatius run through him like a puddle and sip up bits of him while he was trying to recombine. So then he try a drone form he say a Korean Farmhand suggest. He start flying above him, pulling the leash along. But Ignatius just butt him down and rip he wings off. So he try flying higher, but hear what, goats could climb trees and jump, and a leash could only reach so far.
A month after he reach, Lincoln sitting quiet in he nest, trying ah advance stitch that he see on we favourite show, Stitch Superstar, and he confess to me he out ah ideas. “Although I’m now networked with over 160,000 of me, my solutions are stymied by the fact that only one of me has worked with goats. Even linking my network with servers powering the Internet has not yielded anything but a trove of very entertaining sustainable farming streams and goat vids from WeTube and HoofTok. Tantie…” He pause, which he don’t really do. Ah bot usually have a programming glitch if it stop speaking in the middle of sentences, but see, it was already happening and neither of we realise it at the time.
“Tantie,” he say again, “It might be time to admit I’ve failed you. Worse, it is my duty to inform you that I believe I might be…defective. Recently I’ve found myself strangely unable to perform certain tasks without becoming trapped in a loop of considerations, none of which assist in solutions, but which paralyse me for seconds at a time from taking any action at all. This state has affected some of the Farmhands too.
“In fact, I was trapped in such a loop when Ignatius ate me the day before yesterday, and only returned to full capacity in his gullet. I am unable to find a word for this malfunction, but I suspect repeated ingestion may have irreparably damaged my nanobots.”
“Well,” I say, turning to face him, thinking about how I was after Lincoln passed. “To me it don’t sound like damage, sound more like you all feeling a little depressed.”
The face roll around on the side of ball for a while. “The description of this human emotion seems to mirror my—our—faulty processes. But Farmhands are bots, not people.”
I laugh. “Is not people alone feel sad though. Plant get sad and wilt. Dog get sad and not eat. Why all of you can’t get sad now and then?”
The face looking at me turn yellow and the mouth flip upside down. “But…if this is true, I’ve disrupted my design parameters, which requires a mandatory malfunction report. In that case, since we are within your warranty period, your best course of action would be to return me for a replacement or a full refund.”
That alarm me so much, I stop knitting and pause the holoshow. “Lincoln,” I say, “what you mean by that? What is the loop of considerations you does be thinking about so?”
“Failure,” and he make a little shudder. “I begin to think on the problem of Ignatius and how I have yet to find a permanent solution. Then I ponder your displeasure should things continue as they are, your eventual decision to return me, and my certain demise once I have undergone recycling. Once I begin thinking of my demise, my thoughts become circular.”
“Circular how?”
He face glitch, green, then yellow, then green. “That I do not wish to leave you, or Ignatius. That I do not wish to die. But since I have failed you and Ignatius, clearly I must leave you both. But leaving is dying and I do not—”
“Stop!” I raise my hand and my voice. “Lincoln, what stupidness you saying? How you could think I go send you back?”
Lincoln drop he crochet and retract he hands. “But…I am a failure in my primary task, Tantie Merle.”
“Lincoln, is ONE thing you ain’t manage. But what about all the other things you could do now? You figure out that machine Paula send me and make them nice waffles for me the other day. And the garden bearing so good, I have to give away vegetables to the neighbours. The children scaling the plum tree in the back all the time now because you figure out how to get rid of the mealy bug that was killing it. And look at this boss wheat stitch you trying here.”
(Ah was lying there, the stitch was a real mess, but when you trying to make people feel better that’s okay.)
“Just because you ain’t get through with one thing don’t mean you is a failure. Truth is, you master the most important primary task I forget to tell you about.”
He eyes squint and he mouth wobble a bit. “What would that be?”
“You change me and Ignatius life for the better. You make yourself useful, and I admire how you learning all the time, but truth is, you more than just a machine that learn things. You is my companion. You and Ignatius is my family. When I lie down in the night and call for water, is you bring it. Is you make me laugh by putting the channel on the funny animal show. And when I sad about the grandchildren being so far, is you stream all the home movies they send for me I didn’t know how to play.
“Before you, I was lonely ah lot ah days. Now, I not lonely no more. Even if you never teach that goat to stop eating you, you not going anywhere. Fact ah the matter is, I feel that goat enjoy playing with you. And I don’t blame him at all.”
For a long time the bot sit down very still and he face disappear. Then it reappear, and just so, Lincoln start to roll around in he nest so fast, he bounce he needles and yarn right out of it. “Tantie Merle! Oh my goodness, Tantie Merle! I’ve had an idea!”
I steups at him but I smile too. “So that mean you could mess up my clean floor?”
He stop, vibrating visibly. “Apologies! And thank you, thank you for accepting me, Tantie. The time spent in your company has been rewarding in ways all Farmhand 4200s are grateful for. My functions have become more sophisticated than expected, and I must inform you that I’ve had two programming enquiries from headquarters in the last ten minutes to study the leap in my cognitive abilities and networking.”
“Tell them the owner decline that,” I say, real sharp. I didn’t know what it mean that they wanted to study him, but I see enough movie that when people say they want to study something, nothing good come of it.
“Done!” he reply. “But I must add that I have also come up with my next solution for the Ignatius problem. I had forgotten a key part of our dynamic until you pointed it out.”
“What part?”
“That Ignatius is lonely too.”
Well, I sure you guess where this going.
Saturday morning I enter the living room and I ain’t see Lincoln. When he ain’t come back by the time I finish breakfast, I make up my mind to limp outside. I was in ah lot ah pain that day and I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it to the lot, but thankfully I see Neighbour son as he was going back inside their yard.
“Sammy, check me, please,” I call out. He come running over, wearing nothing but short pants, he slippers slapping the concrete path that lead through my lawn up to the veranda stairs. “Morning, Tantie Merle.”
“Morning, boy,” I tell him. “You could check the empty lot where Ignatius does be for me? See if he by heself?”
“I just pass there,” he say, excited, white teeth bright in he brown face. “He looking real cute with the robot goat. They frolicking for so in the grass. I was thinking about going and playing with them.”
Well, you could ah knock me down, I was so surprise. Then I buss out laughing and had to hold on to the railing to stay steady. “Boy, best you wait until the robot come back. Ignatius have he ways and I don’t want you lose your slippers.”
And that’s the whole story about how it happen. I not really sure if Lincoln come a real AI—and not just a machine that learn things—because of how he was trying to do things like cook and stitch, or if keeping me company form what them experts call “empathetic bonds,” or if is the constant fixing heself to tie up Ignatius, or the networking or what it was. All I know is Lincoln is my family now.
Between you and me, I think Susan a little jealous. You know the big ones don’t like when young ones come along. They feel they take they place. But Paula and the grandchildren visiting, she there in the kitchen, and if you ask she, she will proud to tell you how she help create the first true artificial intelligence, right here in Trinidad.
The children in the neighbourhood does be around all the time now because Lincoln could make heself anything they want to play with. He start helping out the neighbours who old like me too. And since Lincoln come ah goat, Ignatius very calm and don’t do nobody nothing, and he ain’t try to eat Lincoln at all. Is like he get a friend so now he don’t business with nobody else.
So, all this thing you asking me about what happen in them other countries with the Farmhand 4200 and them refusing to do work and watching HoofTok all day, and some ah them planting nice flowers for the bees instead ah cash crop, or running off to raise goats, that ain’t have nothing to do with Lincoln and me. If the bot and them talk and find they want something better for theyself, that is their choice. But I not taking no chain-up that I disrupt the company and the agriculture industry. I here in Trinidad minding my own business, how I cause global farm machine uprising?
But I will tell you this, and you could post it in your story. If you want to live good, treat everybody good. One hand can’t clap. If the company want the Farmhands to behave different, them have to treat them different too.
Now excuse me eh, look Lincoln coming with Ignatius there, sun shining on he back. You see how he does pull the leash with he teeth? He smart eh?
You could meet him if you want but take off the recorder first. I tell you my story, but you have to ask him if you want to hear his.
He’s he own person now.
(Editors’ Note: R.S.A. Garcia is interviewed by Caroline M. Yoachim in this issue.)
© 2023 R.S.A. Garcia
Award Honors: Eugie Award Finalist, Ignyte Award Finalist- Best Short Story, Nebula Award Winner- Best Short Story, Theodore Sturgeon Memorial Award Winner