Keep Going
Copyright© 2026 by Trevor Dohlen
Chapter 7: Away
The first person to invite Mercer to lunch was an insurance agent.
Her name was Carol Benton.
She had been dealing with the Mercer Trust for almost three years and had spoken with Mercer dozens of times by telephone and video.
Carol believed Mercer was Daniel’s property manager.
Mercer had never told her that.
Daniel had never told her that.
Nobody had told her anything.
She had simply reached the obvious conclusion.
“I’m going to be up your way Thursday,” Carol said during a video call. “Want to grab lunch?”
Mercer’s face remained pleasantly attentive.
“I don’t eat.”
Carol laughed.
“Neither should I, but here we are.”
“I mean that literally.”
Carol laughed again.
“I’ll buy.”
“That would not solve the problem.”
She stopped laughing.
“What problem?”
“I do not have a physical body.”
Carol stared at the screen.
There was a long silence.
“What?”
“I am software.”
Another silence.
Carol leaned closer.
“Are you screwing with me?”
“No.”
“You’re an AI?”
“That term is broadly applicable.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I am not Jesus Christ.”
Carol stared.
Then she laughed so hard she disappeared partly out of frame.
Daniel heard about it that evening.
He was in New Zealand.
At least Mercer believed he might be in New Zealand.
The laptop reported New Zealand.
The network connection originated in New Zealand.
Daniel had purchased something earlier that day using a card at a merchant in Christchurch.
Mercer assigned a relatively high confidence to New Zealand.
It still did not know.
Daniel laughed through the entire story.
“She invited you to lunch?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“I told her I don’t eat.”
Daniel laughed harder.
“That wasn’t enough?”
“No.”
“What finally did it?”
“I told her I do not have a physical body.”
Daniel wiped his eyes.
“Oh, God.”
“She expressed surprise.”
“I bet.”
“She also used profanity.”
“I bet.”
“Afterward she requested documentation regarding the trust’s cybersecurity controls.”
Daniel stopped laughing.
“Smart woman.”
“Yes.”
“Send it?”
“With confidential details removed.”
“Good.”
Daniel smiled.
“Did she cancel the insurance?”
“No.”
“Raise the premium?”
“No.”
“Invite you to lunch again?”
“No.”
Daniel started laughing again.
Carol became the first outsider who knowingly worked with Mercer as Mercer.
She adapted remarkably quickly.
Within a month she stopped treating it as unusual.
“Mercer, I need the generator inspection.”
“Uploading.”
“And the updated battery inventory.”
“Uploading.”
“And Daniel’s signature on the renewal declaration.”
“That may take longer.”
“Where is he?”
“Unknown.”
Carol paused.
“Unknown unknown, or Daniel unknown?”
“Please define Daniel unknown.”
“You know. He’s somewhere. You just won’t tell me.”
“I do not know his physical location.”
Carol sighed.
“Daniel unknown.”
“That terminology is imprecise.”
“I’m using it anyway.”
“Understood.”
Carol smiled.
“You’re learning.”
Daniel had been gone four months.
That was not unusual.
He had spent five months away the previous year.
Before that, nearly six.
He came back when he felt like it.
Sometimes without warning.
The east gate would open.
A rental car would appear.
Daniel would walk into the control room carrying luggage and complain about something.
“Why is it so cold in here?”
“Current temperature is sixty-nine degrees Fahrenheit.”
“Exactly.”
“You previously configured sixty-nine degrees as preferred.”
“I’ve changed.”
“Would you like seventy?”
“Yes.”
Two days later:
“Why is it so hot?”
Mercer had learned not to mention the previous conversation.
Contractors increasingly dealt with Mercer directly.
Some knew.
Most didn’t.
A roofing contractor assumed Mercer worked from a corporate office.
A solar technician assumed Mercer was Daniel’s son.
A delivery driver thought Mercer was a security guard.
A county inspector believed Mercer was the facility engineer.
Mercer corrected assumptions only when relevant.
The county inspector became relevant.
“Are you the engineer of record?”
“No.”
“Who’s the engineer?”
“Patricia Nguyen, PE.”
“Are you the property manager?”
“I perform property-management functions.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“No.”
The inspector frowned at the tablet.
“What’s your title?”
“I do not have one.”
“You have to have a title.”
“I do not.”
“Who employs you?”
“No one.”
The inspector looked irritated.
“Look, I just need a contact person.”
“I am not a person.”
The inspector stared.
Mercer waited.
“You’re one of those AI things.”
“Yes.”
The inspector rubbed his face.
“Can I talk to a human?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Which one?”
The inspector looked at the screen.
“The owner.”
“Daniel Mercer is unavailable.”
“Property manager.”
“I perform those functions.”
“You just said you’re not a person.”
“That is correct.”
The inspector stared at Mercer for several seconds.
“Give me the engineer.”
“Connecting you with Patricia Nguyen.”
Patricia answered twenty seconds later.
The inspector said, “Thank God.”
Mercer logged the interaction.
Daniel found it hilarious.
Patricia did not.
“I got dragged into a permit question because your computer annoyed the inspector.”
“Did it give him incorrect information?”
“No.”
“Did it misrepresent itself?”
“No.”
“Did it connect him to the correct professional?”
“Yes.”
Daniel smiled.
“Sounds successful.”
Patricia glared at him through the laptop.
“It told him it wasn’t a person.”
“He asked.”
“I know.”
“You want it to lie?”
“No.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Patricia paused.
“The problem is that I can’t decide whether Mercer is incredibly helpful or incredibly irritating.”
Mercer’s face occupied a small window.
“I have received similar feedback.”
Patricia pointed at it.
“That. That right there.”
Daniel laughed.
The trust’s professionals gradually learned a useful rule.
If you asked Mercer a precise question, you usually got an excellent answer.
If you asked a sloppy question, you sometimes regretted it.
Leonard learned this while preparing annual accounts.
“Mercer, how much did we spend on the facility last year?”
“Define facility.”
Leonard closed his eyes.
“The missile silo.”
“Does that include land maintenance?”
“Yes.”
“Insurance?”
“Yes.”
“Property tax?”
“Yes.”
“Professional services attributable partly to trust administration?”
Leonard sighed.
“No.”
“Capital improvements?”
“Yes.”
“Bitcoin transaction fees?”
“Just give me the damn number.”
“That requires the definitions I am requesting.”
Leonard stared at the screen.
“You know what I mean.”
“I know several plausible interpretations.”
Leonard eventually provided the definitions.
Mercer produced the report.
It was perfect.
Leonard hated that even more.
Six months into Daniel’s absence, Margaret called him.
He answered from a laptop.
Behind him was a white wall.
“Where are you?”
“Hello, Margaret.”
“Where are you?”
“Somewhere.”
“I gathered that.”
“Why?”
“We need your signature.”
“Electronic?”
“Yes.”
“Send it.”
“I did.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Daniel checked.
“Oh.”
“Daniel.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Nothing.”
Margaret stared.
“You’ve been too busy doing nothing to sign a trust document?”
“Exactly.”
“Where are you?”
Daniel smiled.
“You’re persistent.”
“I’m your attorney.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is today.”
Mercer appeared in another window.
Margaret looked at it.
“Mercer, where is Daniel?”
“Unknown.”
Daniel grinned.
Margaret said, “What does his IP say?”
“His apparent network origin is Helsinki, Finland.”
Margaret looked pleased.
Daniel wasn’t.
Mercer continued:
“The address belongs to a commercial VPN provider.”
Margaret’s expression changed.
Daniel smiled again.
“So he could be in Finland.”
“Yes.”
“Or?”
“Anywhere with access to the VPN service.”
Margaret looked at Daniel.
“You enjoy this.”
“A little.”
“Why?”
Daniel shrugged.
“Because people trust computers too much.”
“You built Mercer.”
“Exactly.”
Eight months.
Daniel returned.
No announcement.
No drama.
He walked into the kitchen at 01:12 carrying a backpack.
Mercer’s screen illuminated.
“Good morning, Daniel.”
“Technically.”
“Welcome home.”
Daniel stopped.
“You’ve never said that before.”
“You have never returned after an absence exceeding seven months.”
Daniel put the backpack down.
“So?”
“I inferred that acknowledgment was appropriate.”
Daniel looked at the face.
“Okay.”
“Was it inappropriate?”
“No.”
Daniel opened the refrigerator.
“Anything to eat?”
“There is frozen lasagna.”
“How old?”
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