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Savanah's Swan Song (Part 4A)
🕑 Added 2024-01-20 13:42:59 +0000 UTC(Nota Bene: This is the first part of part 4. I'm still fussing over the last few pages and didn't want to leave you without some weekend reading! I'll get the second half posted in a few days.)
Two months later, Savanah and Chad sat in Dr. Wagner’s office watching a live stream of Savanah’s replicant’s arrival in Euskirchen, Germany, the first date of her international tour. Weeks ago, the unit had been shipped to Munich, Dr. Wagner’s hometown, where it was reassembled and tested, but today was to be its public debut.
Footage of the event was shown in split-screen on a giant wall monitor behind Dr. Wagner’s desk. The feed on the left came from a camera held by one of Concurrent Technologies’ technicians (ostensibly working as a tour videographer), while the one on the right was through the robotic eyes of Savanah’s double. Currently, both feeds showed a parade of half-timbered dwellings that looked like gingerbread houses as the limousine they traveled in bounced over cobblestone streets towards its destination--the Hotel Rodderhof, a four-star spa resort where the ‘bot and its entourage would be staying.
5,000 miles away, the real Savanah’s right leg bounced along with the limo. It was common for her to be nervous before a concert, but this was different. This was an out-of-body experience. Though both sides of the screen showed similar scenes of the bucolic township, Savanah focused on the right. That was what she would be seeing if she were there. That was what she should be seeing.
Suddenly, the view shifted downward. A pair of delicate hands entered the screen and fiddled with a silk tie draped between her bot’s bosom.
“What’s with the butterfly neckerchief? I’ve never worn anything like that in my life.”
Dr. Wagner gestured at the screen with his pen. “Your replicant has a voice box like we do, but its intonations are produced electronically rather than via vibrations of vocal cords. Since there’s no movement in the larynx it can look a bit odd up close.”
“That’s comforting.”
“Is that why your robot on 60 Minutes was wearing a tie?” Chad queried.
Dr. Wagner nodded. “It’s an issue we’re working on.”
“So, she’ll have to wear ties and turtlenecks everywhere?” Savanah felt as if the ridiculous-looking necktie were being tightened around her own throat. “This was a mistake,” she whispered to Chad.
“It’ll be fine,” her boyfriend monotoned, his eyes focused on cleavage cam.
“I assure you it won’t be noticeable on stage,” Dr. Wagner said. “We’ll make the necessary adjustments once she’s finished the European leg of your tour.”
“By that time, I’ll be finished!”
The onscreen view shifted again, revealing the limousine was arriving at its destination. As it pulled before the hotel, dozens of fans surged to greet it. Savanah looked away. Her career was going to be ruined and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
„Hallo!“
Savanah’s eyes darted back to the monitor. The feed on the left showed her replicant waving to the crowd, while the feed on the right showed their jubilant faces.
„Ich bin so glücklich, hier zu sein!“
“I speak German?!? What did I say?”
“I’m happy to be here,” Dr. Wagner answered.
The replicant followed a stanchioned path toward the hotel’s awninged entrance, shaking hands, waving, and posing for pictures as it went. When it reached the doorway, it turned and waived to the crowd—
„Wir sehen uns auf der Bühne!“
Savanah turned to Dr. Wagner.
“See you onstage.”
As the replicant and its entourage entered the hotel and the onscreen feeds devolved into disparate and dizzying views of luggage and lobbies, Dr. Wagner turned off the monitor. “I zinc zat vent vell,” he gushed, his thick German accent released along with his enthusiasm.
“Wait!” Savanah pleaded. “I want to see more.”
“That would defeat the purpose.”
“Look, doctor. Just because your ‘bot fooled a few prepubescent schnitzel-eaters, doesn’t mean it will cut muster in concert.”
The scientist’s round face turned ruddy. “Fine,” he said, switching the monitor back on.
Chad sighed and settled into his seat. This was going to be a long night. Savanah didn’t care. This was too important.
This was her life.
Comments
Matt L.
Brilliant closing sentence, foreshadowing no doubt.
Maverick and Riptoryx
Thanks, Jacob. Taking time to raise the stakes in this one!
Jacob Stevens
I'm really liking this slow burning format
