Rollback

Don suspected their neighbors couldn’t be surprised any further by the happenings at his house, but he wondered if any of them took note of the very-expensive-looking rental car pulling into the driveway. If they did, perhaps they zoomed in on Cody McGavin as he got out, and did a face-scanning search to identify him, doubtless the richest man ever to set foot on Betty Ann Drive.

Don opened the front door and watched through the screen as McGavin walked toward him, the mesh dividing him into pixels. "Hello, Don," McGavin said, in his Boston accent. "Great to see you."

"Hello," Don replied, swinging the screen door open. "Won’t you come in?" He took McGavin’s heavy winter coat and watched him remove his fancy shoes, then ushered him up the stairs to the living room.

Sarah was seated on the couch. Don saw a look flit over Mc-Gavin’s face, as if he were startled by how much she’d aged since he’d last seen her. "Hi, Sarah," he said.

"Hello, Mr. McGavin."

Gunter entered from the kitchen. "Ah," McGavin said, "I see you got the Mozo we sent over."

Sarah nodded. "We call him Gunter."

McGavin’s eyebrows went up. "After the robot on Lost in Space ?"

Don was startled. "That’s right."

"Gunter," said Sarah, her voice quavering as usual, "I’d like you to meet Cody McGavin. He runs the company that made you."

Don sat down next to Sarah and watched with interest: the creation meeting the creator. "Hello, Mr. McGavin," Gunter said, extending a blue mechanical hand. "It’s a true pleasure to meet you."

"And you," said McGavin, shaking the hand. "I hope you’ve been working hard at helping Dr. Halifax."

"He’s been a godsend," said Sarah. "Haven’t you, Gunter?"

"I’ve tried," the Mozo said to McGavin. "I was with her when she made the breakthrough. I’m very proud."

"That’s my boy!" said McGavin. He turned to the Halifaxes. "Wonderful machines, aren’t they?"

"Oh, yes," said Sarah. "Please, have a seat."

McGavin moved over to the La-Z-Boy. "Nice place you’ve got here," he said, as he settled in.

Don thought about that. McGavin was known for his philanthropy. Don had seen pictures of him visiting hovels in the third world, and it humbled him to think that this place was closer in cost to one of those than it was to McGavin’s famed mansion in Cambridge. The walls here had scuffs, the plaster was chipped, the carpet was worn and stained. The couch, with its hulking lines, had perhaps been stylish late in the last century, but looked hopelessly dated now, and its wine-colored upholstery was wearing thin in a lot of places.

"All right," Sarah said at last, echoing what McGavin had said to them all those months ago, "let’s talk turkey. As I said on the phone, I’ve succeeded in decrypting the Dracon message. Once I tell you what it says, I’m hoping you’ll agree with me that we should not make the reply public."

McGavin leaned forward, a hand on his receding chin. "I’m listening. What’s it say?"

"The aliens have sent us the Dracon genome—"

"Really?"

"Yes, and instructions on how to produce an artificial womb to bring a couple of Dracon children to term here on Earth, as well as plans for an incubator."

"Jesus," said McGavin softly.

"Wonderful, isn’t it?" said Sarah.

"It’s… amazing. Will they be able to live here?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Wow."

"But there’s a snag," said Sarah. "The aliens want me to be, essentially, the foster parent. But I’m too old."

"Well," McGavin began, "I’m sure an appropriate lab could be set up—"

"No," said Sarah, firmly. "No labs, no institutions. These are people, not specimens.

It’ll happen in a home. As I said, I can’t do it myself, but I do get to choose who does it in my place."

McGavin’s voice was gentle, and he looked sideways at Sarah as he spoke. "I’m not quite sure that’s your prerogative."

"Oh, yes it is. Because, you see, the message with the genome was addressed to me."

"You said that before. But I still don’t know what you mean."

"The decryption key. It’s… personal to me. And I’m not going to tell you what it is."

"It’s not your sequence of survey answers, or any subset of that sequence," said McGavin. "We already tried that. What else could the aliens possibly know about you?"

"With all due respect, I decline to answer."

McGavin drew his eyebrows together but said nothing.

"Now," continued Sarah, "as I say, I can’t personally do this. But I can pass on the genome to whomever I wish — by handing over the decryption key."

"I might be willing…" began McGavin.

"Actually," said Sarah, "I see you more in the rich-uncle role. Someone has to bankroll the building of the artificial womb, the synthesizing of the DNA, and so on."

McGavin shifted in the chair.

"Besides, you have a full-time job," said Don. "Hell, you’ve jot multiple full-time jobs: president of your company, running four charitable foundation, all the public speaking you do…"

The rich man nodded. "True. But if not me, then who?"

Don cleared his throat. "Me."

"You? But weren’t you a — what was it? — a DJ, or something?"