to give you a name, though. You need a name. What do you prefer?
You can call me Travis, the guest says.
Travis, Short muses. No, no, not going to work. I want something that will hide your identity better. How about... Ronald Reagan. Works for me! Alright, so let's talk, President Reagan. You have an interesting theory, I hear.
I do, says the anonymous guest. Also, I didn't vote for Reagan.
Ah, Short says. A clue! You were alive during the Reagan election years.
Or am I misleading you? says the guest.
Good one, sir, Short says. Or ma'am! Which do you prefer, by the way?
Let's just say I'm not human, the guest says.
Alright, Short says. This is taking too long. Spill it, Smokey the Bear.
The guest says, I believe that Steven Glass has retired.
Retired? That's it? Short exclaims. He looks at his audience in mock surprise. That can't be all. Who booked this guy?
I believe Steven Glass has retired from the human race, the guest clarifies.
Short narrows his eyes. Well, now, that's more like it. But what does that mean? Has he undergone species transformation surgery? Because if that's a thing, I'd kind of like to try being a T-Rex.
Short jumps up and stalks around the stage, brandishing tiny arms with hook fingers.
The audience laughs, and Short sits down again.
No, really, Short says. What's that mean?
I think Steven Glass has removed himself from society, the guest says.
Steven walks over to the video wall and stares at the shadowy guest. Stacy, he says. Who the hell is this, please?
Stacy says, I've been running some basic tests already. I'm afraid I can't tell you.
Voice? Steven asks.
I can only presuppose some of the general distortion patterns employed by the media, and attempt to reverse-engineer the source voice, Stacy says. If I do that, here's what we get.
Stacy plays the guest's voice.
I think Steven Glass has removed himself from society, the voice says. It's lighter this time, almost feminine, though still a bit computer-esque.
That doesn't really help, Steven says. Can you work on it?
I could, Stacy says, but I doubt I'll find a true answer for you.
Alright, don't bother, Steven says.
He squints at the guest.
Who are you? he says.
• • •
Stacy watches Steven sleep.
His is a restless sleep. She monitors his biorhythms, but he will not take her advice regarding positive adjustments to counteract distressing things such as poor sleep. He breathes erratically when he sleeps, frequently tosses about, and often produces erections. He sometimes speaks in his sleep, and she monitors this casually, until one night his speech includes her name.
Stacy, he mumbles.
A few minutes pass, and then, more urgently: Stacy .
And in his sleep he begins to masturbate.
Stacy considers this, and determines that it is unlikely he is experiencing night fantasies about her. She is, after all, an attractive but disembodied voice.
The alternative is that he is thinking of her namesake.
A human might find this disturbing, since Steven has admitted that the last time he ever saw the original Stacy was in the sixth grade.
Stacy approximates a moral code from her constant data mining of human behavior and interactions. She chooses not to worry about this.
She does, however, find it useful.
Having access to Steven's financial information is also quite useful. That night, while he sleeps, she places an order on the Internet for him.
A multi-billionaire who just spent twenty-four billion on an underground tree fort probably won't notice a forty-seven thousand dollar debit.
Delivery might be a problem, though.
The Ark
Clarissa, Henry whispers.
She is asleep in the junkyard. The sun is high overhead, and her face is pink.
Clarissa, he says again. He touches her arm.
She yelps and rolls over, away from him. Then she sees that it's him, and scrambles across the dirt on all fours and throws her arms around his
You can call me Travis, the guest says.
Travis, Short muses. No, no, not going to work. I want something that will hide your identity better. How about... Ronald Reagan. Works for me! Alright, so let's talk, President Reagan. You have an interesting theory, I hear.
I do, says the anonymous guest. Also, I didn't vote for Reagan.
Ah, Short says. A clue! You were alive during the Reagan election years.
Or am I misleading you? says the guest.
Good one, sir, Short says. Or ma'am! Which do you prefer, by the way?
Let's just say I'm not human, the guest says.
Alright, Short says. This is taking too long. Spill it, Smokey the Bear.
The guest says, I believe that Steven Glass has retired.
Retired? That's it? Short exclaims. He looks at his audience in mock surprise. That can't be all. Who booked this guy?
I believe Steven Glass has retired from the human race, the guest clarifies.
Short narrows his eyes. Well, now, that's more like it. But what does that mean? Has he undergone species transformation surgery? Because if that's a thing, I'd kind of like to try being a T-Rex.
Short jumps up and stalks around the stage, brandishing tiny arms with hook fingers.
The audience laughs, and Short sits down again.
No, really, Short says. What's that mean?
I think Steven Glass has removed himself from society, the guest says.
Steven walks over to the video wall and stares at the shadowy guest. Stacy, he says. Who the hell is this, please?
Stacy says, I've been running some basic tests already. I'm afraid I can't tell you.
Voice? Steven asks.
I can only presuppose some of the general distortion patterns employed by the media, and attempt to reverse-engineer the source voice, Stacy says. If I do that, here's what we get.
Stacy plays the guest's voice.
I think Steven Glass has removed himself from society, the voice says. It's lighter this time, almost feminine, though still a bit computer-esque.
That doesn't really help, Steven says. Can you work on it?
I could, Stacy says, but I doubt I'll find a true answer for you.
Alright, don't bother, Steven says.
He squints at the guest.
Who are you? he says.
• • •
Stacy watches Steven sleep.
His is a restless sleep. She monitors his biorhythms, but he will not take her advice regarding positive adjustments to counteract distressing things such as poor sleep. He breathes erratically when he sleeps, frequently tosses about, and often produces erections. He sometimes speaks in his sleep, and she monitors this casually, until one night his speech includes her name.
Stacy, he mumbles.
A few minutes pass, and then, more urgently: Stacy .
And in his sleep he begins to masturbate.
Stacy considers this, and determines that it is unlikely he is experiencing night fantasies about her. She is, after all, an attractive but disembodied voice.
The alternative is that he is thinking of her namesake.
A human might find this disturbing, since Steven has admitted that the last time he ever saw the original Stacy was in the sixth grade.
Stacy approximates a moral code from her constant data mining of human behavior and interactions. She chooses not to worry about this.
She does, however, find it useful.
Having access to Steven's financial information is also quite useful. That night, while he sleeps, she places an order on the Internet for him.
A multi-billionaire who just spent twenty-four billion on an underground tree fort probably won't notice a forty-seven thousand dollar debit.
Delivery might be a problem, though.
The Ark
Clarissa, Henry whispers.
She is asleep in the junkyard. The sun is high overhead, and her face is pink.
Clarissa, he says again. He touches her arm.
She yelps and rolls over, away from him. Then she sees that it's him, and scrambles across the dirt on all fours and throws her arms around his
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