Philip Dick - Progeny

“But—”

“Come on.” Janet smiled nervously at Doctor Bish. “We’ll run along now, doctor. Thanks so much for everything. Don’t pay any attention to him. He’s been out there so long, you know.”

“I understand,” Doctor Bish said smoothly. He had regained his poise. “I trust we’ll hear from you later, Mrs. Doyle.”

Janet pulled Ed out into the hall. “Ed, what’s the matter with you? I’ve never been so embarrassed in all my life.” Two spots of red glowed in Janet’s cheeks. “I could have kicked you.”

“But what—”

“You know we aren’t allowed to touch him. What do you want to do, ruin his whole life?”

“But—”

“Come on.” They hurried outside the hospital, onto the terrace. Warm sunlight streamed down on them. “There’s no telling what harm you’ve done. He may already be hopelessly warped. If he grows up all warped and—and neurotic and emotional, it’ll be your fault.” Suddenly Ed remembered. He sagged, his features drooping with misery. “That’s right. I forgot. Only robots can come near the children. I’m sorry, Jan. I got carried away. I hope I didn’t do anything they can’t fix.”

“How could you forget?”

“It’s so different out at Prox.” Ed waved to a surface car, crest-fallen and abashed. The driver drew up in front of them. “Jan, I’m sorry as hell. I really am. I was all excited. Let’s go have a cup of coffee someplace and talk. I want to know what the doctor said.”

ED HAD a cup of coffee and Janet sipped at a brandy frappe. The Nymphite Room was pitch black except for a vague light oozing up from the table between them. The table diffused a pale illumination that spread over everything, a ghostly radiation seemingly without source. A robot waitress moved back and forth soundlessly with a tray of drinks. Recorded music played softly in the back of the room.

“Go on,” Ed said.

“Go on?” Janet slipped her jacket off and laid it over the back of her chair. In the pale light her breasts glowed faintly. “There’s not much to tell. Everything went all right. It didn’t take long. I chatted with Doctor Bish most of the time.”

“I’m glad I got here.”

“How was your trip?”

“Fine.”

“Is the service getting any better? Does it still take as long as it did?” “About the same.”

“I can’t see why you want to go all the way out there. It’s so—so cut off from things. What do you find out there? Are plumbing fixtures really that much in demand?” “They need them. Frontier area. Everyone wants the refinements,” Ed gestured vaguely. “What did he tell you about Peter? What’s he going to be like? Can he tell? I guess it’s too soon.”

“He was going to tell me when you started acting the way you did. I’ll call him on the vidphone when we get home. His wave pattern should be good. He comes from the best eugenic stock.”

Ed grunted. “On your side, at least.”

“How long are you going to be here?”

“I don’t know. Not long. I’ll have to go back. I’d sure like to see him again, before I go;” He glanced up hopefully at his wife. “Do you think I can?” .

“I suppose.”

“How long will he have to stay there?”

“At the hospital? Not long. A few days.”

Ed hesitated. “I didn’t mean at the hospital, exactly. I mean with them. How long before we can have him ? How long before we can bring him home?”

There was silence. Janet finished her brandy. She leaned back, lighting a cigarette. Smoke drifted across to Ed, blending with the pale light. “Ed, I don’t think you understand. You’ve been out there so long. A lot has happened since you were a child. New methods, new techniques. They’ve found out so many things they didn’t know. They’re making progress, for the first time. They know what to do. They’re developing a real methodology for dealing with children. For the growth period. Attitude development. Training.” She smiled brightly at Ed. “I’ve been reading all about it.”

“How long before we get him?” “In a few days he’ll be released from the hospital. He’ll go to a child guidance center. He’ll be tested and studied. They’ll determine his various capacities and his latent abilities. The direction his development seems to be taking.” “And then?”

“Then he’s put in the proper educational division. So he’ll get the right training. Ed, you know, I think he’s really going to be something! I could tell by the way Doctor Bish looked. He was studying the wave pattern charts when I came in. He had a look on his face. How can I describe it?” She searched for the word. “Well, almost—almost a greedy look. Real excitement. They take so much interest in what they’re doing. He—” “Don’t say he. Say it.”

“Ed, really! What’s got into you?”

“Nothing.” Ed glared sullenly down. “Go on.”

“They make sure he’s trained in the right direction. All the time he’s there ability tests are given. Then, when he’s about nine, he’ll be transferred to—”

“Nine! You mean nine years?” “Of course.”

“But when do we get him?” “Ed, I thought you knew about this. Do I have to go over the whole thing?”

“My God, Jan! We can’t wait nine years!” Ed jerked himself upright. “I never heard of such a thing. Nine years? Why, he’ll be half grown by then.”

“That’s the point.” Janet leaned toward him, resting her bare elbow against the table. “As long as he’s growing he has to be with them. Not with us. Afterwards, when he’s finished growing, when he’s no longer so plastic, then we can be with him all we want.” ,

“Afterwards? When he’s eighteen?” Ed leaped up, pushing his chair back. “I’m going down there and get him.”

“Sit down, Ed.” Janet gazed up calmly, one supple arm thrown lightly over the back of her chair. “Sit down and act like an adult, for a change.”

“Doesn’t it matter to you? Don’t you care?”

“Of course I care.” Janet shrugged. “But it’s necessary. Otherwise he won’t develop correctly. It’s for his good. Not ours. He doesn’t exist for us. Do you want him to have conflicts?”

Ed moved away from the table. “I’ll see you later.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just around. I can’t stand this kind of place. It bothers me. I’ll see you later.” Ed pushed across the room to the door. The door opened and he found himself on the shiny noon-day street. Hot sunlight beat down on him. He blinked, adjusting himself to the blinding light. People streamed around him. People and noise. He moved with them.

He was dazed. He had known, of course. It was there in the back of his mind. The new developments in child care. But it had been abstract, general. Nothing to do with him. With his child.

He calmed himself, as he walked along. He was getting all upset about nothing. Janet was right, of course. It was for Peter’s good. Peter didn’t exist for them, like a dog or cat. A pet to have around the house. He was a human being, with his own life. The training was for him, not for them. It was to develop him, his abilities, his powers. He was to be molded, realized, brought out.

Naturally, robots could do the best job. Robots could train him scientifically, according to a rational technique. Not according to emotional whim. Robots didn’t get angry. Robots didn’t nag and whine. They didn’t spank a child or yell at him. They didn't give conflicting orders. They didn’t quarrel among themselves or use the child for their own ends. And there could be no Oedipus Complex, with only robots around.

No complexes at all. It had been discovered long ago that neurosis could be traced to childhood training. To the way parents brought up the child. The inhibitions he was taught, the manners, the lessons, the punishments, the rewards. Neuroses, complexes, warped development, all stemmed from the subjective relationship existing between the child and the parent. If perhaps the parent could be eliminated as a factor . . .