POSTHUMAN

Chapter Twenty-Five

Epoch woke promptly at the break of dawn, as he had every day for the last century – he was indeed a creature of habit for all of his beliefs about adaptability. "Good morning, Chambers, how does my morning schedule look?" asked Epoch of his mansion's AI as he strolled to his ensuite.

        "Three things today, sir," Chambers reported. The AI had an RP accent so clipped it could have cut glass, it reminded him of his Uncle Barnabas. Then again he could not be sure as the last time he had heard Uncle Barnabas' voice was sixty years before. "You've ordered that Legacy be brought to the manor for a talk," continued Chambers, "Then you've that round of golf with the German Chancellor. Afterwards, you have a meeting with the British Joint Intelligence Committee."

        Epoch spent the rest of his morning routine trying to properly remember his Uncle Barnabas; he had succeeded in recalling a ruddy-faced, portly, balding man with a bushy moustache and startling eyebrows by the time his tie clip was affixed. Epoch descended the two storeys between his bedroom and the small dining room adjacent to the second lounge.

        Chambers' domestic platform had already prepared a Japanese breakfast for him. He had visited Japan frequently and particularly enjoyed his breakfasts there so insisted Chambers prepared his breakfasts in the Japanese style whenever possible. It had been odd at first, having no human staff, but Chambers could occupy several platforms at once. He had become used to the quiet.

        Epoch finished and began to read that morning's edition of The Times on his tablet. He preferred this to the SuperCom but simply no one could exist nowadays without those. His eyes followed the text as he read the latest in the march of progress. India and China still vied for the post of world's greatest economy; the outcome did not really matter to him. Both countries were pledged to The Providence.

        His father and Uncle Barnabas would be so proud of him, he thought, smile drooping slightly as he sipped at his coffee. Supreme Leader – though he found that particular term distasteful, he much preferred the title 'Epoch' – of an organisation that strived to unite all of humanity under a cohesive philosophy. Nanotechnology was the best possible tool in assisting humanity to willingly joining the fold. The propaganda his people peddled helped as well.

        So perhaps this was not the purest unity, but he had achieved a world without war.

        "Sir, Dr Ronald Barnes is waiting at the gates," said Chambers.

        "Open the gates, unlock the front door and bring our guests here," Epoch never looked up from his tablet. He placed it on the breakfast table and migrated to the nearby lounge, he took up his seat in a grand, high-backed armchair upholstered in emerald silk. The armchair's back faced the wide window that stretched from ceiling to floor and the breadth of the room. A low, long, ebony coffee table was several feet in front of Epoch and an immense television on the wall before him.

        "Chambers, resume the second movement of Mozart's Piano Concerto No.21 in C Major, oh, also bring me a jug of water and two glasses," commanded Epoch. The music began and moments later a domestic platform entered the room carrying a tray burdened with a crystal jug and glasses, Barnes and Legacy trailed behind the robot.

        "Good morning gentlemen, I trust you are well?" inquired Epoch.

        "Excellent, Supreme Leader," replied Barnes, Epoch could feel the doctor's fear.

      "Please, call me Epoch, we're all friends here," Epoch smiled and the doctor's heart may very well have stopped out of protest, "Chambers, would you kindly show the doctor to the Thoreau Room. I'd like to have a private chat with Legacy." The robot placed the tray on the table then nodded to his master; he led Barnes out by the elbow.