“I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything,” she said.
“I know you have access to a huge amount of data from Earth. Do you happen to have any pictures or recordings of me? My name’s Caleb Smith.”
“There were many Caleb Smith’s in your history. I will need more information to narrow the search parameters. As I cannot see you, I cannot search for your likeness among the billions of your planet.”
NAID needed more information? Well this should narrow it down very easily for her. “You’re wearing my grandmother’s face.”
Her mouth fell open. NAID stared at me for several moments before she asked, “You’re Edith’s grandson who died?”
I nodded, then realized she couldn’t see me. “Yes.”
Shuttering, the image of my grandmother disappeared and was replaced by a bland silhouette of a drakcol, like the non-sentient NAID wore. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I loved being able to see and hear her, and I honestly think she'd be honored. My grandmother’s a huge advocate for people to live authentically and beautifully as themselves.”
NAID’s form didn’t change. “What can I do for you?”
“I would like you to gather every picture or recording of me you have. I can’t imagine there’s much, if anything at all.”
“That is incorrect. Your parents, siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, as well as your grandmother uploaded everything onto the internet. They never forgot you, Caleb. It was obvious in every post and video where they talked of you.”
“Can you move all of it to a database?”
“Yes, but why?”
I glanced at the closed door. “For Zoltilvoxfyn.”
“I understand.” A moment passed before she said, “Done. Everything is arranged in chronological order for Prince.”
“Can you show me the most recent picture of myself?” I asked.
“Certainly. But why?”
“I don’t remember my own face,” I replied. It had been too long, and nothing reflected me in the universe, so my appearance had faded. I hadn’t remembered what Nana looked like until NAID appeared in front of me, reminding me, but I couldn’t recall any of my other family perfectly. I remembered bits and pieces of them. Like my mom’s blue eyes, or my dad’s booming laugh, or my brother Matt’s sharp elbows as he jabbed me.
An image appeared, and my pulse picked up for a few seconds before fading. The young man in front of me had brown curls, brushing his narrow shoulders, a blindingly bright smile, blue eyes like my mother’s, and rather large ears.
Me. This was me. I sort of remembered myself, and not at the same time. The Caleb in the picture was alive and vibrant. It was like looking at a stranger.
“Thank you, NAID,” I said.
“Did you want to see a picture of your entire family?”
“No,” I said instantly. I didn’t want to miss them even more. I didn’t want them to be strangers, like I was to myself. “No,” I repeated, calmer this time.
“Alright.”
“Can you record a message for me that he will be able to hear?”
“I believe so.”
I cleared my throat as I tried to organize my thoughts, putting my family out of my mind. What did he need to hear?
The truth.
“Hey, Sunshine. I imagine if NAID is letting you hear this, I’m gone. I hope a long time has passed since I recorded this, but I can’t take that chance. I need to tell you one thing: I love you. I think I lived my entire life waiting for you. I didn’t know it, but I was waiting for you, and when I died, I went searching.
