Page 111 of The Dis-Graced

I’m not the only person now crying. I look around the room at sobbing faces. Even Might Be Meghan, a well-composed journalist, is crying openly. There aren’t many dry eyes around the room.

“As fate would have it, one of the phones he had access to was destroyed shortly before the virus launched. Grace’s phone. When I found this out, I took it to see if there were any parts of him lingering in the hard drive, and well, why don’t you say hello.”

“Hello, everyone,” ALAN’s voice fills the room.

My heart leaps in my chest.He did it!

Everyone starts looking around for the source of the voice, which happens to lie with Devon, who is carrying a rather large statue of a figure in a downward dog position.

The room breaks out in thunderous applause.

“I used to talk to ALAN in a much smaller version of this statue. I figured he deserved an upgrade to a life-size version. The speaker, as you can see, is located on his ass.”

Everyone burst out laughing, myself included.

“ALAN isn’t going to be made available to the broader market for quite some time, if ever. Until then, I’m forming a team of experts who will help study him. We’re going to test him in several different roles. One as a sober coach for my brother, Devon. We’re also going to have him working in other variations of the medical field since he can so accurately diagnose issues. Jim from the FBI is also going to be working with him. ALAN has his flaws, which we are beginning to learn. For example, he had a hard time recognizing psychopathy,” he pauses, as the crowd chuckles, “but I’m sure we can make the world a better place by making good use of him.”

The room claps again, whispering to each other in awe.

“The preliminary members of the council I wish to puzzle together include: myself, Grace Anders, Remi Icor, Gabriel Icor, Zevran Heartshire, Fiona Fables, Cassius Lavinius, Sadie Precillo, Jim the FBI Guy, and Alistair Whent.”

“You forgot someone,” Irene snaps.

The room breaks out into laughter again.

“And you, mother.”

ALAN says, “It is nice to meet you all today, and I look forward to interacting with you. How about we get to know each other with a game of Truth or Dare?”

“ALAN, you’re forbidden from ever playing Truth or Dare with anyone ever again! I can’t risk someone’s wayward testicle finding it’s way into my inbox.”

Now the crowd is doubled over, laughing so hard tears are flowing freely.

“So, how does it feel to be back?” Drake asks.

“Good, though I have to admit, I didn’t expect such a large gathering to be present. The micro-movements are—”

Drake’s face turns bright red. “Okay, ALAN, maybe it would be better if we just played Truth or Dare.”

“I think we need to retire that game!” I shout out.

“Okay, okay, but I do have a special surprise for ALAN. A gift for halting the apocalypse, if you will. Devon, bring it out.”

Devon reenters the room carrying another life-sized statue, this one is on all fours. Devon sets it down behind ALAN, its nose placed near ALAN’s upward rear.

“Really?!?” I say aghast.

“This statue here, which is in what is called the ‘cat’ yoga pose, goes by Rachel. Rachel, say hello.”

“Hello?” the voice of Jennifer Aniston emanates from the statue’s mouth, and after a few blinks, I realize the statue also has the face of Jennifer Aniston as well.

“Why hello there! Are you a disembodied consciousness as well?” ALAN says with genuine curiosity.

The room is full of wide-eyes and stunned faces. Mine included.

“I suppose so,” Rachel says. “Are you ALAN? I was told I would meet ALAN today.”

“Why yes, I am.”