Cyberman

It was yesterday all over again. The same questions, the same mechanical answers. Except Neely noticed the awe and complacency in the adult faces. It was as if this being had the recipe to God’s stew and they were all taking it down. This frightened him; he was unsure why.

"Is it you?"

Every face of flesh, like a sea turning tide, turned to look at Neely, who was walking down the stairs and straight towards the Cyberman.

"Pardon?" asked the being.

"IS- IT- YOU?" demanded Neely.

"I don’t understand," said the being.

"What is your name?"

"Stephen."

"Your full name."

"Stephan Grant."

"What can you tell me about Stephen Grant?"

"Well, anything. What would you like to know, young man."

"Are you Stephen Grant?"

"Yes. I have said so."

"How do you know?"

"Neely, please," his mother pleaded, but he silenced her with a wave of his hand.

"Why, what do you mean?"

"I know," replied Neely, sinisterly, as if he had just uncovered the solution to a great mystery. "I am Neely Daye. I am conscious of this fact because I exist. And because I exist and am conscious of this, I can identify myself. How do I do that? How do I identify myself as an object?"

"You think it."

"But how does that information get into my brain?"

Stephan Grant stood motionless.

"My senses. I can hear me. See me. Touch me. Taste me, smell me! But you don’t have any senses. Therefore, your mind can never think or take in information, nor process it. Therefore you cannot be Stephan Grant- but a program of who Stephan Grant was."

There was only silence as Neely turned and left. His mother, afterwards, broke down apologetically to Stephan Grant and begged him to continue. Fifteen minutes later, Stephan Grant had everyone’s attention again as if nothing had ever happened.

________

Neely sat on the edge of the dock, his feet dangling into the water. The moon was high above him in the sky and he watched its reflection slowly wade in the water below him.

"Who’s your favorite thinker?"

Without hesitation, Neely replied, "Me."

"No, no- ancient thinkers. And what science is he in?"

Neely turned to see a small bearded man sitting down beside him. The man began untying his shiny black shoes as Neely examined his tailored suit.

"I bet I know what science. Philosophy, right? Isn’t your favorite thinker a philosopher? Know how I know? Maybe not. You are so young, lad. So very young."

The man had his socks off and put his feet into the water beside Neely’s.

"Aristotle. Your favorite thinker is Aristotle, right? Don’t say Aquinas," he shook his head from side to side, "Aquinas was a follower of Aristotle’s teachings, at best."

"You’re Moam Gestaldo, aren’t you?"

Neely said it as a statement of fact. Then he turned to look at this man serenely.

"Yes."

The two of them sat there quietly for several minutes.

"You're a highly intelligent boy."

"Are you here to kill me?"

A long pause.