Doris approached the table. The bot was stark white, with two arms, a large round head, and dark sensors for eyes.
“I think you’re being too hard on him,” Alan said.
“Good morning, Alan,” Doris said. “Would you like some breakfast?”
Alan ordered his breakfast by tapping on the tablet attached to the robot’s chest.
“The reason his life is a disaster is because we haven’t been hard enough on him,” Naomi said.
“Coming right up,” Doris said, rolling away from the breakfast nook.
Alan returned his attention to Naomi. “Blake’s life isn’t a disaster. He’ll graduate in the spring with his classmates, and he’ll have his whole life ahead of him.”
Naomi frowned. “His classmates graduated last spring.”
“So, he’s a year behind. It’s not a big deal.”
“I don’t want him here during the campaign.”
Alan looked to the stairs, then back to Naomi with his finger to his lips. “Not so loud. He’ll hear you. He’s leaving this afternoon. No need to have a confrontation. I’ll have the car take him to the house upstate.”
“He needs rules too,” Naomi replied. “I don’t want him trashing our house. No parties. No drugs. Period. If he can’t handle that, he can live off UBI for all I care.”
“I’ll talk to him about taking care of the house. Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.” Alan glanced at Naomi’s tablet, eager to change the subject. “What are you reading?”
She sighed. “The New York Times thinks Corrinne will be the next president.”
“That’s not surprising.”
“They think we need a moderate Democrat to bring the American people together.”
“What do you think?”
“I think that’s the last thing we need.”
25
Derek and from Bad to Worse
His eyes fluttered. The LED lights were low, but sunlight filtered into the room from the windows. Derek glanced to his left. A temporary wall that looked like a shower curtain. In front of him, his right leg was elevated and in a cast. An IV was attached to his arm. To his right, Rebecca and Jacob sat in chairs, dozing.
“Becca,” Derek said, his voice raspy. “Becca.”
She opened her eyes, blinking a few times. Rebecca stood from her chair and approached the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore and thirsty.”
Rebecca rolled the overbed table closer, a cup of water with a straw now within Derek’s grasp. “I don’t know how cold it is.”
Derek took a few sips. “Thank you.” He glanced at Jacob, still dozing, his glasses askew. “Why is he here?”
Rebecca frowned. “I didn’t want to come out here in the middle of the night by myself. You could show a little appreciation.”
“I appreciate that you’re here, but … why are you here?”
“You have me listed as your emergency contact.”
Derek winced. “Shit. I’m sorry. I never changed it.”
“You can do it online. I use my doctor’s portal all the time, especially with the kids.”
“I canceled my policy years ago. It was too expensive. I never go to the doctor anyway.”
She cocked her head. “Until now.”
“Right. Until now.” Derek took another sip of water. “Do you know if they recovered my phone from the truck?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Can I borrow your phone?”
Rebecca went back to her chair, opened her purse, and returned with her phone.
“Thanks,” Derek said, taking her phone. “You guys prob’ly have a lot better things to do. I’ll call April to pick me up.”
“You can’t go home yet. Your ankle is broken, and you could have internal injuries.”
“Well, you two should go home. Let me just call April and my mother to let them know where I am.” Derek dialed April’s cell phone number by memory. Straight to voice mail. After the tone, Derek said, “I’ve been in accident. I’m at the hospital. Don’t worry. I’m okay.” He removed the phone from his ear and said to Rebecca, “What hospital is this?”
“Warren Memorial in Front Royal.”
Derek nodded to Rebecca and went back to his message. “I’m at Warren Memorial in Front Royal. I might need a ride home at some point. I’m callin’ from Rebecca’s phone, so don’t call this number. Just call the hospital. I love you.” Derek disconnected the call and tapped on the phone, looking for the number to Page General Hospital in Luray, Virginia. He called the main number.
“Page General Hospital. How may I direct your call?” asked the robot receptionist.
“The hospital room for Hannah Reeves.”
“One moment please.” The bot transferred the call.
“This is Nurse Wilkes, Oncology. How may I help you?”
“I’m sorry to bother you. My name’s Derek Reeves. I was supposed to be transferred to my mother’s hospital room. Hannah Reeves.”
The nurse hesitated for a beat. “I’m very sorry, Mr. Reeves. Your mother passed away early this morning. She took a turn for the worse last night. We left you several voice mails.”
Derek’s heart pounded. He felt sick to his stomach. “What happened? She was gettin’ better.”
“Epigenetic treatments have a low success rate for late-stage cancer patients. When they first undergo the treatments, patients often feel an initial burst of good health, but that’s often not sustainable. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“What happens now? Can I come get her?”
“We can’t release the body directly to you. We can release the body to a funeral home, or, in the case of indigent families, the state offers cremation.”
“I don’t know what I can afford. Can I call you back?”
“Of course. We’ll store her body for four days. Please let us know what you plan to do before then. Otherwise, she’ll be scheduled for cremation.”
“I will.” Derek disconnected the call and handed the phone to Rebecca.
Rebecca wiped her eyes with the side of her index finger. Derek’s side of the conversation was enough for her to understand that Hannah had died. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
Derek shook his head, a lump forming in his throat. Tears slipped down his cheeks. Derek grabbed two tissues from the overbed table and wiped his face. He sat upright, grimacing, his battered body barking in pain.
“What are you doing?” Rebecca asked.
“I need to find April. I called her three times last night, and she’s still not returnin’ my messages.”
“Lay back,” Rebecca said, her hand on his chest. “You need to rest.”
Jacob stirred from his slumber. He rubbed his eyes and focused on Rebecca with her hand on Derek. “What’s going on?”
Rebecca removed her hand from Derek and turned to her husband. “Derek needs to find his girlfriend. We can help him with that, can’t we?”
A frown flashed over Jacob’s face for a microsecond. “Whatever we can do to help.”
Rebecca returned her attention to Derek. “We’ll go find her. Now lay back down.”
Derek did as he was told.
“Maybe April left you a message on your phone? Can you call your voice mail?” Rebecca held out her phone.
Derek called his voice mail and listened to the messages from Page General Hospital urging Derek to come see his mother, letting him know that her time was short. He heard a robomessage from SCS Enforcement letting him know that he’d been penalized ten points for reckless driving, and he should consider an autonomous vehicle.
And another from Nationwide Insurance, representing Alexandria BMW, the woman saying that her client would prefer to do this without going to court, but is ready and willing if necessary. Camera evidence is irrefutable. Derek’s at fault. The price for the totaled BMW: 77,800 Fed Coins.