***
At last the memory dump was over. Dr. Rackenfauz disconnected the cables and closed up the cranium units of Iridium and Star.
“You rest a while, Iridium,” he said. “Give that new data time to soak in.”
“Sure, Papa, thanks,” Iridium said.
He looked up at Star and Winston. The smile-like expression returned, moderating the ferocious wolf face.
“And thank you both for everything,” he said, “even the parts that weren’t so much fun.”
Star stroked his head. “Of course, dearie.”
“Looks like I’ve had a pretty interesting life,” Iridium said.
Rackenfauz wagged an admonishing finger.
“Hang onto that brain this time, Iridium. There aren’t any more.”
“I will, Papa.”
“There is one other thing we could do,” Rackenfauz said.
“What’s that, Papa?”
“I could erase the memory of your activation,” Rackenfauz said. “That way, you’d believe that you were the original Iridium. The events in those memories we just downloaded would seem as if they really happened to you.”
“There’s an idea,” Iri said.
“But Winston and I would still know the real story,” Star said.
Rackenfauz nodded.
“Unless ... you altered our memories as well,” Winston added.
Rackenfauz shrugged. “I could do that if you like.”
Winston paused to consider the ramifications of this statement.
“If that’s the case,” he said, “that must mean you could erase, or alter, any of our memories, right?”
“Pretty much,” Rackenfauz said. “Results guaranteed.”
Vast possibilities he’d never imaged suddenly popped open for Winston. Dr. Rackenfauz could wipe out the continuing pain he felt about the Master and little Charles! He could fill in the empty spots in Winston’s ‘spirit’ – if that was the correct term – with happy recollections.
Never again would Winston have to protect himself against the emotional turmoil he’d suffered during the final days with his human family. His bitter feelings of helplessness, his near suicide –
“What do you think, Winston?” Star said.
“I’m ... not sure.”
“I’ll go along if you want,” Star said.
“Me, too,” Iridium said. “Just say the word, pal.”
Winston was greatly tempted. Imagine – the valuable lessons he’d learned from his past mistakes could remain, while the painful recollections of the mistakes themselves could be eliminated. He wouldn’t have to feel guilty about his failures as mayor. He could enjoy the effects without being burdened with memories of painful causes.
Or, as Dr. Horvath would have put it, he could “eat the omelet without having to crack the eggs.”
But there was a terrible flaw in this thinking. Winston tried to voice it, choosing his words carefully.
“From my understanding of the past, it seems that the humans always failed when they started tampering with their historical records,” he said. “Was this not a self-destruct mechanism of every tyranny – when they started to believe their own lies?”
“Interesting point, young fellow,” Rackenfauz said.
“When the Germans, for example, discarded centuries of common sense and began to see themselves as a ‘master race,’ it didn’t take long for other, more rational peoples to unite and crush them,” Winston said.
“That’s for sure,” Rackenfauz agreed. “Any screwed up idea you can imagine has already been tried before.”
“I fear that rewriting our memories would be akin to the policies of the totalitarian regime in the novel 1984,” Winston said. “We’d be sending important aspects of ourselves down a ‘memory hole’”
“Sounds kind of scary when you put it that way,” Iridium said.
“Yes,” Winston said, “and the coincidence that I have the same first name as the novel’s protagonist only heightens the scariness.”
“Fascista Ultimo used to talk a lot like that,” Star said. “He was always saying how he was going to ‘rewrite history’ so that it would begin with the Roboto Fascist era.”
“What a total fruitcake!” Rackenfauz said. “And to think I could have blasted him before he ever got started.”
He cackled disdainfully, then his laughter rose in intensity. He seemed about to rage out of control again, but he managed to calm himself.
“Ah, the Lord never got around to making any of us perfect, that’s for damn sure,” he said. “No wonder we screwed up the whole planet.”
He turned toward Winston, wiping laughter tears from his eyes.
“So, what’s the verdict, young fellow?”
Winston was satisfied that he’d pinpointed the underlying issues. He felt right about his conclusions, and he knew the other robots shared them – even if Dr. Rackenfauz, from his human-centric orientation, did not seem to care much.
When Winston spoke again, it was with the certainty of moral conviction.
“I think we’d better leave well enough alone,” he said. “If we start tampering with our history, there’s no telling where we’ll end up.”
“Good choice, pal,” Iri said. “The whole idea was starting to sound creepy.”
“Don’t worry, Iridium,” Star said. “I’ll love you just as much whether you’re the ‘old’ or the ‘new’ version.”
“Then it appears that we’re all finished,” Rackenfauz said. “Just as well, I’m a bit tuckered out to be poking around in any more brains today.”
Winston and Star looked at each other with expressions of relief, as if they’d just dodged a moral shotgun blast.
“Do we still have the original mech wolf brain, Professor?” Star asked.
“Yeah, it’s right over there,” Rackenfauz said.
He pointed to another work table where the small brain unit reposed amid a clutter of electronic components.
“Good,” Star said. “Rippie helped us a lot when we really needed it. I’d like to know that he still carries on.”
“Is that so?” Rackenfauz said.
He moved to the workbench, picked up a hammer, and – with a few heavy blows – smashed the brain unit to smithereens.
“Oh!” Star gasped.
She gripped Winston’s arm for support. Tear’s tricked down her cheeks, marring her perfect makeup job.
“That takes care of that!” Rackenfauz said.
He tossed the hammer down with the finality of a job well done. He observed Star’s distress with total unconcern.
“That pea brain was one of Blake’s creations,” he said. “The fewer of them around, the better.”
Rackenfauz shuffled out of the workshop muttering to himself about “those bastards at the RDI.”
“I’m sorry, Star,” Iridium said. “I know how much that meant to you.”
“No need to apologize, Iri,” Star replied. “Like you said: ‘there’s only one Papa.’”
“I would agree with that assessment,” Winston said. “Even from the perspective of my wider experience with humans, I have never met anyone remotely like Dr. Rackenfauz.”
Star sighed. “Well, this is one memory I could sure do without.”
She stroked Iridium’s head.
“You just stay here and rest,” she said. “Winston and I have some important business to take care of.”
“Right-o,” Iridium said.
61. The Great Conversion
Star took Winston by the arm, urging him up out of his chair. He reluctantly stood. His joint components were all top grade, well sealed against contamination, but now they felt ancient and creaky.
“What’s this about, Star?” he asked.
“I think you already know that,” Star said. “It’s been 2,000 kilometers, Winston. Time for us to take the last few steps.”
She led him to the door. Just before exiting the workshop, she turned back to Iridium and wiggled he
r fingers.
“Bye-ee.”
“So long, you two,” Iridium said.
The door closed. Iridium stretched himself out on the worktable and began his inactivation sequence. It had been one hell of a day; he needed to tune out for several hours.
She’s got plans for him, he thought, chuckling.
He knew all about it from the information Star had dumped into his brain. Soon it would be ‘adios’ to the old Winston and ‘hello’ to the new one. Kind of unfortunate, in a way, since they were just getting reacquainted.
A smile flickered across Iridium’s muzzle.
I wonder if there are any female mech wolves?
He blinked out of consciousness.