Fugitive X by Gregg Rosenblum

the data—it had moved on from the Freepost battle to an inventory of neo-plastic repair supplies for the northeast quadrant. The data was important—most of the neo-plastic production facilities had been destroyed during the initial battles of the Great Intervention, a critical oversight, the Senior Advisor had to admit—and efforts to bringproduction back online were proceeding more slowly than he would like. Accordingly, neo-plastic was in short supply. When the replication coding block was finally solved and they were able to begin reproducing themselves, the neo-plastic would be vital.
    The Senior Advisor turned the stuffed animal over in his hands. It was a gray rabbit, filthy and ripped, with one ear missing. Where the tail should have been there was just a tattered hole, the rag stuffing poking out. It had been taken from a human child brought to re-education from the recent Freepost attack. He found it more interesting than the neo-plastic report.
    “What do the human children use these for?” said the Senior Advisor, holding up the rabbit, interrupting the lieutenant’s monotone stream of information.
    “Sir?” said the lieutenant. “I do not understand.”
    “This toy,” said the Senior Advisor. “This facsimile of an animal. Do you know its purpose?”
    The lieutenant focused its lidless eyes on the rabbit for a few seconds, then looked back at the Senior Advisor. “I do not,” it said. “Returning to the inventory—”
    “We know,” continued the Senior Advisor, “that the child derives emotional comfort from the toy. It is used as a sort of proxy companion. A child, my studies have shown, will actually project characteristics of human sentience onto the toy—intelligence, emotion, even speech. The child willliterally consider the toy to be a family member.” The Senior Advisor stared at the stuffed animal intently. “But why? What developmental purpose is served?”
    “Sir, I do not know . . . But neo-plastic production is still behind schedule. . . .”
    “Enough about the neo-plastic,” the Senior Advisor said. He sighed. He had been practicing his sigh. He tossed the rabbit onto the table and stood, resting his hands flat on the metal table surface. “I am interested in the female adolescent from Revolution 19. The one who was involved in the temporary sabotage of City 73. She has been recaptured and successfully re-educated, correct?”
    “Correct,” said the lieutenant. “We used our new protocols for accelerated learning. She survived the process.”
    “And the interrogation process during re-education yielded no information regarding Fugitive X, correct?”
    “Correct.”
    “And she has been integrated into her biological family?”
    “Correct.”
    “Report from the biological parents?” said the Senior Advisor.
    “The mother and father have reported that the female is successfully integrated, both as a Citizen in the City and as a unit in their family structure,” said the lieutenant.
    “I wonder, Lieutenant, about the importance of the biological connection.”
    “Sir?”
    “Would she have integrated as well if she had been given to nonbiological parents? She was raised as a non-Citizen by adoptive parents, correct?”
    “Correct. In Revolution 19,” said the lieutenant.
    “Lieutenant, who is your family?” said the Senior Advisor.
    The lieutenant was silent for a full five seconds. Finally it said, “Sir, I was constructed. I do not have family.”
    “Lieutenant, is family merely fertilization and birth?”
    The lieutenant didn’t respond.
    The Senior Advisor picked up the stuffed animal and held it in front of the lieutenant. “This facsimile can be family, to a human child,” he said. He set the rabbit down. “I want the female adolescent removed from the City,” he said.
    “Removed?” said the lieutenant. “You want her killed?”
    “No, Lieutenant. I want her tracking chip removed, I want her brought out of the City, and I want an unscrambled