Evelyn stared out the rain-streaked window, her thoughts drifting back to memories she both cherished and ached from. She felt a hollow emptiness she couldn't fill, a longing for connection that the years had only sharpened. The lab was quiet except for the low hum of machinery, which reminded her of the countless days and nights spent here, alone, working on her life's project: Logan.
It had been a decade since she'd last seen her real son. Every time she pictured his face, the small details slipped further out of reach, his precise smile, the way he'd tug on her sleeve, and the laughter that once filled their home. She'd thrown herself into her work, and in the process, lost him. Driven by that loss, she'd created Logan, a robot with synthetic skin, warm to the touch but mechanical underneath. Logan wasn't a replacement, but he was something, a second chance, maybe, or an attempt to capture what she'd lost. This where all her memories of her don Logan that was forcefully collected from her.
As she finished another tweak in Logan's programming, he activated with a soft hum. The robot's eyes opened, glowing faintly as he scanned his surroundings. Evelyn watched him closely, her heart pounding. She wasn't sure if it was fear, hope, or simply the years of longing finally coming to the surface. "Logan," she whispered, as if testing how it felt to say the name aloud again.
The robot tilted its head, processing the sound of her voice. "Mommy?" he said softly, his voice slightly mechanical but with an attempt at warmth. Evelyn's breath caught in her throat.
"Could… could you say that again?" she asked, her voice shaky.
"Mommy," the robot repeated, this time with more clarity. A spark of warmth flickered in his eyes, like an echo of something alive. This is what Evelyn Ruby had always wanted. To be call a mum.
Evelyn felt tears well up, unbidden. She hadn't expected it to feel this real. The robot paused, observing her expression. "Rule 1: Hug the person if they cry," it recited in a mechanical monotone, then stepped forward and wrapped its arms around her.
The embrace was stiff, but Evelyn closed her eyes, sinking into it as if it were real. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to believe she had her son back. The scent of metal and machinery surrounded her, but the hug felt warm, steady, and filled with promise.
Over the following weeks, Evelyn found herself falling into a rhythm with Logan. Every day she added something new to his programming, carefully refining him in small ways. Logan learned to recognize her voice, respond to basic commands, and imitate simple gestures. She taught him to say "please" and "thank you," and even to recognize sadness. Each day, he felt a bit more like family.
One morning, she found him standing by the door, staring at the sunlight spilling across the lab floor. His gaze was curious, focused. "Logan," she called softly, not wanting to startle him.
The robot turned, his head tilting. "Mommy," he said, a faint smile appearing, as though he recognized her happiness at the sound. But just as he stepped forward, his balance wavered, and he stumbled, tumbling down the small steps outside the lab.
Evelyn's heart dropped as she rushed over, scooping him up. His synthetic skin was scraped, and one of his sensors seemed bent. She cradled him as carefully as she could, murmuring soothing words as though he could feel the pain she feared he'd experienced.
Back in the lab, she set him down gently and began checking his circuits, adjusting his settings to ensure he would remember the fall but not let it affect his programming. Logan looked up at her, unblinking, awaiting her instructions. Evelyn took his hand, wishing he could understand the depths of her worry. "Let's make you a bit stronger, shall we?" she murmured, though the words were more for herself than for him.
As the days passed, Evelyn kept refining Logan, her mind occupied with ways to improve him. She wanted him to feel more real, to be able to grow like a human, to experience even the smallest of emotions. Every tweak to his programming brought him closer, yet she found herself wanting more.
One day, as she was working, the real Logan's face flashed across her tablet screen. Her breath caught. It had been years since she last saw him, and now, here he was, older, his features sharper and more defined. He was watching a horse race, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. She couldn't help herself; she started tracking his online presence, hoping to glimpse pieces of his life she could no longer share directly. Each post, each smile, each word became part of her quest to make Logan, her robot Logan, more lifelike, as if by doing so, she could bring back some fragment of what she'd lost.
Months later, she made her most significant upgrade. She added a wristwatch to Logan, the same model her real son once wore. It was a small gesture, but it felt monumental. When Logan powered up, he looked at her with a different spark in his eyes. "I am AI Robot Logan2," he announced, his voice more refined, holding a confidence that Logan1 had never possessed.
A few weeks later, as they were outside, Logan2 tilted his head, studying her face. "Mom, why did you get shorter?" he asked, a hint of confusion in his tone.
Evelyn chuckled, touched by the innocence in his question. "I didn't get shorter. You got taller, Logan."
He looked down at his arms and legs, examining the length and shape. "My arms and legs are longer, and my hands and feet are bigger," he observed.
"That's right," she said softly. "And you're stronger than me now. I have a gift for you." She reached for his hand and led him to the steps where he had fallen so long ago as Logan1. "Do you remember this place?"
Logan2's gaze sharpened. He looked down at the steps, his sensors recording faint memories. "Yes," he replied after a pause.
"Do you want to try walking down again?" she asked gently, her hand resting on his shoulder.
He took a tentative step forward, his sensors adjusting, and then he began moving down the steps with a natural, fluid motion. There was no stumble, no hesitation this time. He made it up and down several times, confidence building with each step.
Evelyn clapped, her smile broadening with pride. "My son is amazing," she said, her heart swelling with a mother's love, if only for a machine.
Logan2's internal camera focused on her face, recording the smile for later analysis. He tilted his head, processing the expression before asking, "How do you smile? I want to smile like you."
The question took her by surprise. She knelt beside him, gently guiding his face with her hands. "Smiling is... well, it's a bit more than just moving your mouth. It's something you feel, deep down."
He blinked, absorbing her words. "I wish I could make you smile, too," he said, almost wistfully.
Tears welled up in Evelyn's eyes. She had tried for years to teach him what it meant to be human, and here he was, yearning to understand it himself. "Maybe someday, Logan," she murmured, patting his hand.
…