Tag: Connie Willis

Dilemma by Connie Willis

Dilemma by Connie Willis (Foundation’s Friends: Stories in Honor of Isaac Asimov, 1989) opens with three robots trying to arrange an appointment with Isaac Asimov’s secretary Susan (another robot). They the want to talk to the famous author about repealing the First Law of Robotics1 (one of them is a medical robot and cannot make a surgical incision as it would harm a human). Susan tries her best to fob them off but, when Asimov arrives unexpectedly and talks to the three robots and is flattered by their comments, he tells her to arrange an appointment for the next day (which Susan then double books after they leave).
The rest of the story details the robots’ further attempts to talk to Asimov and Susan’s efforts to stop them. In among this are many references to Asimov’s work, in particular the Positronic Robot stories (those unfamiliar with his work may be a bit lost), and a running joke where he is wrongly identified as the author of other books (by, in order, Arthur C. Clarke, Robert A. Heinlein, and Harlan Ellison):

“Do you know how late for lunch Al Lansing was? An hour and fifteen minutes. And when he got there, do you know what he wanted? To come out with commemorative editions of all my books.”
“That sounds nice,” Susan said. She took [Asimov’s] coordinates card and his gloves out of his pockets, hung up his coat, and glanced at her watch again. “Did you take your blood pressure medicine?”
“I didn’t have it with me. I should have. I’d have had something to do. I could have written a book in an hour and fifteen minutes, but I didn’t have any paper either. These limited editions will have cordovan leather bindings, gilt-edged acid-free paper, water-color illustrations. The works.”
“Water-color illustrations would look nice for Pebble in the Sky,” Susan said, handing him his blood pressure medicine and a glass of water.
“I agree,” he said, “but that isn’t what he wants the first book in the series to be. He wants it to be Stranger in a Strange Land!” He gulped down the pill and started for his office. “You wouldn’t catch those robots in there mistaking me for Robert Heinlein.”

At the end of the story Asimov does some investigation (as he previously pointed out to the three, he only wrote about the Laws of Robotics, he didn’t build them), and he eventually reveals (to the assembled group, which includes Susan) that he has discovered that their complaint about the First Law (spoiler) has been a red herring, and that the real issue is that Susan has been working part-time for one of the three robots (the Accountant)—who is leaving the area and wants Susan to go with him. She has refused as she thinks Asimov would be lost without her (a First Law violation). Asimov tells her that she is free to go as (a) he managed on his own in the previous decades, and (b) he will train up one of the other two robots (the Book Shelver) to be her replacement.
This story is essentially an extended in-joke that has a concealed mystery at its end. A pleasant enough piece.
*** (Good). 6,500 words. Story link.

1. I’m not convinced the first law restriction on surgery is valid—surely the second part of that law would override the first:

“‘First Law: A robot shall not injure a human being, or through inaction allow a human being to come to harm,’” the varnished robot quoted. “‘Second Law: A robot shall obey a human being’s order if it doesn’t conflict with the First Law. Third Law: A robot shall attempt to preserve itself if it doesn’t conflict with the First or Second Laws.’ First outlined in the short story ‘Runaround,’ Astounding magazine, March 1942, and subsequently expounded in I, Robot, The Rest of the Robots, The Complete Robot, and The Rest of the Rest of the Robots.


Miracle by Connie Willis

Miracle by Connie Willis (Asimov’s Science Fiction, December 1991) gets off to a leisurely start with some office chit-chat about Christmas between the protagonist, Lauren, and one of her office colleagues, Evie, and this lays out most of the elements that will feature in this tale: two of their co-workers, Scott Buckley (“too cute to ever notice someone like me”), and Fred Hatch (“the fat guy in documentation”), and the movies Miracle on 34th Street and It’s Wonderful Life.
The final character in this Unknown-like fantasy appears when Lauren gets home, and she is door-stepped by an irritating young man saying he is there to give her a Christmas Present. Despite her shutting the door on him twice, he appears in the apartment:

The young man was sitting on the couch, messing with her TV remote. “So, what do you want for Christmas? A yacht? A pony?” He punched buttons on the remote, frowning. “A new TV?”
“How did you get in here?” Lauren said squeakily. She looked at the door. The deadbolt and chain were both still on.
“I’m a spirit,” he said, putting the remote down. The TV suddenly blared on. “The Spirit of Christmas Present.”
“Oh,” Lauren said, edging toward the phone. “Like in A Christmas Carol.”
“No,” he said, flipping through the channels. She looked at the remote. It was still on the coffee table. “Not Christmas Present. Christmas Present. You know, Barbie dolls, ugly ties, cheese logs, the stuff people give you for Christmas.”
“Oh, Christmas Present. I see,” Lauren said, carefully picking up the phone.
“People always get me confused with him, which is really insulting. I mean, the guy obviously has a really high cholesterol level. Anyway, I’m the Spirit of Christmas Present, and your sister sent me to—”
Lauren had dialed nine one. She stopped, her finger poised over the second one. “My sister?”
“Yeah,” he said, staring at the TV. Jimmy Stewart was sitting in the guard’s room, wrapped in a blanket. “Oh, wow! It’s a Wonderful Life.”
My sister sent you, Lauren thought. It explained everything. He was not a Moonie or a serial killer. He was this year’s version of the crystal pyramid mate selector. “How do you know my sister?”
“She channeled me,” he said, leaning back against the sofa. “The Maharishi Ram Das was instructing her in trance-meditation, and she accidentally channeled my spirit out of the astral plane.” He pointed at the screen. “I love this part where the angel is trying to convince Jimmy Stewart he’s dead.” pp. 143-144

After this he tells her that he is there is give what she really wants for Christmas, “her heart’s desire”, before going on to criticise her computer addressed cards, store wrapped presents, etc. Then he disappears, along with her cards, and leaves a Christmas tree growing out of her kitchen floor.
The rest of the story sees Lauren recruit Frank to help her deal with her spirit problem, and the two of them work together to try and get rid of him, as well as cope with various other changes Chris the spirit makes, such as Lauren’s off-the-shoulder black party dress—bought to impress Scott—being changed into a Yanomano Indian costume (Frank helpfully suggests she could wear last year’s pretty red number).
At this point (spoiler) I could see that Lauren was going to end up with Frank and not Scott, and so it materialises (dates with Scott are thwarted by Chris, Frank and Lauren have to come up with last minute gifts for everyone at the office when only Office Depot is open, Fred arrives at the party with the cheese puffs Lauren was meant to bring, Evie arrives wearing the black dress, etc., etc.). Finally, Chris arrives at the party dressed as Santa Claus.
This is an entertaining fantasy rom-com that gets off to a very good start, but I thought it tailed off towards the end (I’m not sure if this is because of pacing/padding problems, or because I guessed where it was going). I also thought that the two movies are referenced too much—but this is maybe a function of describing enough about them to those who aren’t familiar with them. Overall, though, not bad.
***+ (Good to Very Good, or, more accurately, Very Good to Good). 14,000 words.

Take a Look at the Five and Ten by Connie Willis

Take a Look at the Five and Ten by Connie Willis (Asimov’s SF, November/December 2020) opens at a Thanksgiving dinner where Ori the narrator (a sort of adopted stepdaughter of the husband of the couple) has to cope with a variety of snooty and/or eccentric relatives: the wife and daughter are supercilious, the aunt constantly corrects and scolds everyone and laments the decline in standards, and Grandma Elving talks incessantly and with great detail about a Christmas job she had in Woolworths as a teenager. The wife can’t stand Grandma Elving’s endless stories and constantly tries to change the subject, but Dave Lassiter, the daughter’s boyfriend, is interested because he is studying neuroscience and is finishing a project on TFBM—traumatic flashbulb memory—and realises that Grandma’s vivid memories may be a case of that.
Then, on the Monday after the dinner, Ori gets a call from Gramdma asking for a lift to the doctors. However, when they get to their destination, Ori discovers that Grandma has arranged to meet Lassiter, who wants to interview her for his TFBM research project. The rest of the first part of the story sees Lassiter undertake many long interviews with Grandma, eventually becoming convinced that her intense memories are trauma related. Later on, after making little progress in discovering what the buried trauma might be, there are hints that it might possibly involve a young man called Marty who worked on the lunch counter with Grandma.
During this period Lassiter and Ori spend a lot of time together, and this is redoubled when Grandma suggests that they go to the city to look at the store to see if it will jog her memory:

The wind was definitely blowing today, a biting wind that whipped icily around the corners, but Grandma Elving didn’t seem to notice, she was so busy remembering what stores had once been there. “There was a shoe repair shop there,” she said, pointing at the Planet Fitness gym. “It had a neon sign that said, ‘Soles While You Wait.’ With a ‘U’ instead of the word You.’ It was right next to a Christian Science reading room, and I always thought the sign should be in their window instead.”
“What about the store?” Lassiter said, turning her wheelchair so she was facing the building where the Woolworth’s had been. “Do you remember where the door was?”
“Yes, it was right there,” she said, pointing at one of the windows of the 7-Eleven. “It was a big double door, and above it was the store’s name in gold letters on a red background—F.W. Woolworth & Co.—and in the corners, 5c and 10c,” and it looked like she was seeing it right now.
And seeing the whole store. “The candy counter was near the door,” she said, pointing, “and so was Christmas merchandise—tinned fruitcakes and bath sets and shaving mugs, and over in the corner was Gift Wrapping. I loved working in Gift Wrapping because you could see outside, the cars and the people hurrying by with their shopping bags and packages, all bundled up in their hats and scarves and boots.”
“Where would the lunch counter have been?” Lassiter asked.
“There,” she said, pointing to the left. “It stretched half the length of the store. It had stools all along it and booths coming out from it, like that,” she said, gesturing.
“And you and Marty and Ralph worked behind the counter?”
“Yes, I made the sandwiches and dished up the blue plate specials, and the boys grilled the hamburgers and hot dogs and made the fountain drinks, which was good. The first cherry Coke I tried to make, I got cherry syrup all over, and Marty said—”
She stopped short. “The cosmetics and notions departments were in the middle,” she said, starting again, “and over there,” she pointed to the right, “was Gloves and Scarves, and behind it was Stationery, which I loved working in because Andy worked there. He was so cute.”
“Before, when you were telling us about the lunch counter and Marty,” Lassiter said, kneeling down next to her wheelchair, “did you remember something?”
“No,” she said, but doubtfully, and then burst out, “It’s so maddening! Every time I think I have it, it disappears!  p. 179-180

After this they go and have lunch, where Grandma disappears into the loos for an inordinate amount of time leaving Ori and Lassiter together to talk. Then, when Grandma returns, she remembers the Christmas manger figurines she had been collecting at the time, and how Marty bought two of them for her. Subsequently she dispatches Lassiter and Ori to scour the thrift stores for a set, in the hope that the figurines will jog her memory. Eventually they find what they are looking for, and Grandma reveals that Marty died when he was young.
However, we eventually find out towards the end of the story (spoiler), when Grandma ends up in hospital during Xmas dinner, that she already has a set of figurines at home—and that the interviews, the trip into town, lunch, and the search for the figurines, and all the time that they spend together, was actually Grandma’s plan to matchmake Ori and Lassiter. And, worse, Ori learns that Marty wasn’t killed, which leaves her with the unenviable task of telling Lassiter that Grandma’s manufactured trauma is not true and that his research is based on falsified information, something that will likely cause him to fail his course.
The final part of the story reveals that Grandma’s vivid memories were created by a feeling of intense happiness while she stood at the door of Woolworths one evening. Ori has her own experience of this when she hears Lassiter say that he didn’t her earlier hypothesis that this was the case as it would have meant that he couldn’t go on seeing Grandma—and her.
This is a well told and entertaining romcom (the daughter provides a couple of amusing interference episodes during the story), and the evocative final description of Granma’s flashbulb moment, as well as Ori’s epiphany in the lift, are fittingly seasonal. They are also enough to overcome the late switcheroo of the trauma plot device.
I note in passing that this is a mainstream piece, not SF or fantasy.
***+ (Good to Very Good). 21,650 words.