Klara and the Sun

‘And disabling it, you say, will help Josie?’

‘Yes.’

‘So how do you propose to go about doing that?’

I stared at the Cootings Machine sitting near the center of the yard, separated from the other parked vehicles. The Sun was falling between two silhouette buildings in the mid-distance overlooking the yard. His rays weren’t for the moment blocked by either building, and the edges of the parked vehicles were shining.

‘I feel very foolish,’ I said finally.

‘No, it’s not so easy,’ the Father said. ‘On top of which, what you’re proposing would count as criminal damage.’

‘Yes. However, if the people up in those high windows over there happened to see anything, I’m sure they’d be happy to see the Cootings Machine being destroyed. They’d know just what an awful machine it is.’

‘That may be so. But how do you propose to do it?’

The Father was now leaning back in his seat, one arm quite relaxed on the wheel, and I had the impression he’d already arrived at a possible solution, but for some reason was holding back from revealing it.

‘Mr Paul is an expert engineer,’ I said, turning to face him directly. ‘I was hoping he’d be able to think of something.’

But the Father kept gazing through the windshield at the yard. ‘I couldn’t explain it to Josie earlier in the cafe,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t explain to her why I hate Capaldi so much. Why I can’t bring myself to be civil towards him. But I’d like to try and explain it to you, Klara. If you don’t mind.’

His switch of subject was highly unwelcome, but anxious not to lose his good will, I said nothing and waited.

‘I think I hate Capaldi because deep down I suspect he may be right. That what he claims is true. That science has now proved beyond doubt there’s nothing so unique about my daughter, nothing there our modern tools can’t excavate, copy, transfer. That people have been living with one another all this time, centuries, loving and hating each other, and all on a mistaken premise. A kind of superstition we kept going while we didn’t know better. That’s how Capaldi sees it, and there’s a part of me that fears he’s right. Chrissie, on the other hand, isn’t like me. She may not know it yet, but she’ll never let herself be persuaded. If the moment ever comes, never mind how well you play your part, Klara, never mind how much she wishes it to work, Chrissie just won’t be able to accept it. She’s too…old-fashioned. Even if she knows she’s going against the science and the math, she still won’t be able to do it. She just won’t stretch that far. But I’m different. I have…a kind of coldness inside me she lacks. Perhaps it’s because I’m an expert engineer, as you put it. This is why I find it so hard to be civil around people like Capaldi. When they do what they do, say what they say, it feels like they’re taking from me what I hold most precious in this life. Am I making sense?’

‘Yes. I understand Mr Paul’s feelings.’ I let a quiet few seconds go by, then continued: ‘It seems then from everything Mr Paul says that it’s even more important that what Mr Capaldi proposes is never put to the test. If we can make Josie healthy, then the portrait, my learning her, none of it will matter. So I ask you again. Please advise me how I might destroy the Cootings Machine. I have a feeling Mr Paul has an idea how we might do it.’

‘Yes, a possibility has occurred to me. But I was hoping a better idea might come along. Unfortunately it’s looking like that isn’t going to happen.’

‘Please tell me. Something may change at any moment and this opportunity will pass.’

‘Okay. Well, here it is. That machine will contain inside it a Sylvester broad generation unit. Middle-market. Fuel-efficient and robust enough, but with no real protections. It means that machine can stand any amount of dust, smoke, rain. But if anything, let’s say, with a high acrylamide content got inside its system, for example a P-E-G Nine solution, it wouldn’t be able to handle it. It would be like putting gasoline into a diesel engine, except a lot worse. If you introduced P-E-G Nine in there, it would rapidly polymerize. The damage is likely to be terminal.’

‘P-E-G Nine solution.’

‘Yes.’

‘Does Mr Paul know how we might now obtain P-E-G Nine solution at short notice?’

‘As it happens, I do.’ He went on looking at me for a second, then said: ‘You’ll be carrying a certain quantity of P-E-G Nine. There, inside your head.’

‘I see.’

‘I believe there’s usually a small cavity. Just there, at the back of the head, where it meets the neck. This isn’t my area of expertise. Capaldi would know much more. But my guess is that you could afford to lose a small amount of P-E-G Nine without it significantly affecting your well-being.’

‘If…if we were able to extract the solution from me, would there be sufficient to destroy the Cootings Machine?’