Meeting my own father (for the first time since being turned into this digital existence), was the most unsettling thing that has happened to me so far. I was in danger of going into a full-blown anxiety attack—me, the self-proclaimed AI. It was only natural since this was so outside the box, the damn thing was not even in sight anymore.

I tried to imagine myself in his place, just to predict how he would react. But no matter how hard I tried… I couldn’t. Oh, there are my prediction algorithms which usually can score somewhere in the ballpark of a likely outcome, but all the results were rather… inconclusive?

Maybe I was too close to the subject matter for them to be even slightly impartial. And human reactions are extremely difficult to predict when there are heightened emotions involved. That fight-or-flight response takes control and there is literally 50/50 chance of the situation going either way. Maybe a true AI would be more successful, I still had my emotions to deal with.

What would he think when faced with a digital copy of his son? What if he decided that I was an abomination and that he did not want to deal with me at all? What if he even refused to acknowledge me as a sapient being? (Yeah… anxiety attack all right.)

Not cheerful thoughts and questions, but those were only several of many dozens that went through my mind. (You may have noticed that I was a little insecure about the subsequent meeting—just a bit.)

We had our differences over the years, and I was much closer to my grandfather than to my father. Which was only logical as the man practically raised me. I understand why Dad left me with his parents, but that understanding came much later, when I was a grown man. It was hard for a child to comprehend why his father was not always around, and why I only saw him on the odd weekend. He was hurting; my mother’s death had broken something within him, and he tried to do the best he could for a child he did not know how to raise himself.

That child’s resentment faded over time, even if we did not have such a close day to day relationship as some of my friends had with their dads, I still loved him, and cared about his opinion. He was my dad, plain and simple; those of you who went through similar situations know what I’m talking about.

Don't get me wrong, he wasn't absent from my life. As I said, he regularly came to our mountain and spent time with me. Hell, children that have fathers, or mothers, working on oil rigs or are in the military, get to spend even less time with a parent. I am not throwing a pity party by complaining about my childhood. It was fine, and dad was there when I needed him. We often went fishing and just chilled, sitting on the bank of the lake, barely speaking. But it was a good kind of quiet, a comfortable one. He had his demons to deal with, but with me, he was always patient and thoughtful. Over time I realized it was not always the quantity of time someone spends with you that defines a relationship, it is the quality that matters more than anything else does.

As Michael was leading him to the spaceship, I really wanted to have a stiff drink, pity we didn’t like strong alcohol, so I had no code for it. I watched him gaze in wonder, while walking around the alien ship’s bridge, and was waiting for the right moment to project my hologram. I was even nervous about my overall image. I did look like Michael but not exactly. It was a much younger version of us I took as my appearance, and I had begun to subtly fiddle with that image lately; some small changes here and there, straightening the nose that one idiot broke in high school, removing a few blemishes and things like that. For all that, we could still pass for twins.

Those few seconds where he stood there, after he called my name, and then silently looked at my hologram—were nerve-wracking. Seconds can truly seem like hours, particularly if you happen to be an AI.

In the end, everything went well, he accepted me as a son… or something adjacent. I get that the situation he found himself in was anything but normal, yet he handled himself well.

But very soon I had to perform a procedure on him, the main reason Michael convinced him to come here. And that was even more unsettling.

Doctors have a rule not to operate on their family members. They need to keep a proper professional boundary between them and patients, to prevent emotions from clouding medical judgment. I get their point of view, it is so freaking disturbing when it is your father on the operating table, you are holding the scalpel and at the same time do not exactly have a medical degree. (I know I sound like a drama queen… even to myself.) OK... maybe I am being a bit dramatic and there were no scalpels involved, but it is one of those things that gives you a very anxious feeling.

I programmed the AutoDoc and started the procedure, which went without any surprises. My little microscopic helpers removed the tumor and performed a complete upgrade. I don’t think he needed the entire skeletal implant package, but it couldn’t hurt. It is a father-son thing. Here is a man who seemed larger than life for my entire existence; suddenly, he is an old frail man, and realization is not gradual but hits you with the speed of a runaway train. You want to do all in your power to make him stronger again. Normally, there is nothing you can do to reverse the ravages of time, that slow decline of the body’s vitality which leads to an inescapable conclusion. Except, it just happens that I have that ability now.

We talked afterward, and he was much more relaxed about the whole AI for a son thing. In fact, Dad was excited that now he had the healthy body of an Olympic athlete, even if his facial appearance didn’t change that much. We had a plan for him to meet with various people, many of whom knew him personally. It would have been rather strange if he suddenly lost a few decades. Plastic surgery could be used as an excuse and it generally can make some improvements. Unfortunately, it (usually) makes one look like an alien with persistent expression of surprise. (Stand in front of a mirror and use your hands to stretch your face to the back of your head… see what I mean?)

Hell, if he showed his credentials, he would have probably been arrested for impersonating himself. That is why his face needed to stay the same. Dad still looked like a distinguished older gentleman, but that pale, unhealthy pallor was gone, replaced with a healthy tone of a man that took care of himself.

I showed him the hologram of his body before the procedure and he was amazed at how much damage he managed to accumulate throughout his life (plus a massive brain tumor, and the image of it still made me shiver). He even made a joke about putting himself back on the market, since he was not short-term relationship material anymore. (And if anyone wonders where I got my peculiar sense of humor… wonder no more.)

It is a good thing that we have him on the team now, which means that aspects of Michael’s plan can be put into action. Dad had a long career in scientific circles and is a good judge of character. He is in the best position to recruit our future scientific contingent and to ascertain who will be a good fit for our growing group.

I do not know how things will progress from this point, but having my dad in our ranks… it just feels right.