A Time For Change

Chapter 2

His light grey eyes stopped scanning the documents in front of him and settled on Mari with pin prick-like attention. His gaze was unnerving. Intimidating almost, and the question he asked was almost accusatory in its manner.
"I have proof." Replied Mari, who chastised herself inwardly when hearing the slight quake in her own voice.
"Ah yes." Came a distracted reply as the professor turned the pages of her work once again. "The boy."
"My son." Corrected Mari who had gained a little more confidence that had been fueled by anger at having Micheal referred to as 'The boy'.

Professor Garnett leaned back into the sofa.
"Tell me more of the soccer game." He said. "If", he added, "That is okay."
Mari searched his face for any signs of patronising indulgence, for she was not going to set her son up as an exhibition piece to be ridiculed as she had been. Having satisfied herself that he was showing genuine interest, Mari took a deep breath and began.
"Micheal, my son, is a high performing autistic nine year old." She said.
"We still use that term?" Asked the professor.
"For want of a better word." Replied Mari. "Why?" She asked.
He shrugged and leaned forward once more in order to pick up his notepad and pen.
"It just seems to me." He said. "That with all the advancements we have made over the past two hundred years since we deemed to give a name to this condition, and being no closer as to why it occurs, at least we could do is give it a more non stigmatic description."
He smiled at Mari and held up the pad and pen. "Would you mind if I made some notes as you speak?"
Mari relaxed a little at the professors last comment. It made him a little more human, a little less - Android. The vast intelligence that was housed within thousands of ferabytes of information stored within the university's mainframe had created an anamorphic personification. A reference point for the many students that roamed its hallowed halls.

A man in his early fifties. Robust and broad shouldered. Pot bellied and graying hair, suggesting a wild youth and an intelligence ignored or misunderstood that had later found its place within the halls of the university. The building itself was hewn from rocks that had once been part of the volcanic circle, the fury of which was now held at bay and used to power what had once been the Antarctic solar batteries.
"Not at all." She replied.
He smiled once more, a smile that had been calculated to be warm and comforting at the same time. "Do go on." He said.
"Micheal does not like sport. He hates it in fact."
"Why do you think that is?"
It was an odd question, and one that had never been asked of her.
"It's the coordination factor." She replied. "He has a hard time getting the timing right when having to engage in something that requires that sort of dexterity."
The professor made a note and then turned to one of the pages of Mari's paper.
"What does the term 'Runs like Woody' mean?"
Mari smiled.
"Have you ever seen the film from the 21st century called Toy Story?"
"I know of it." Came the reply. "A child's movie is it not?"
"And a guilty indulgence by the parents of those children." Laughed Mari.
A screen opened up in the space between them.
"Show me what you mean."
Mari rolled up the sleeve of her dress and connected to the screen via the armband she wore.
The 'Psychic Web' they had called it. The next step in social interaction. Most people had their interface decoders surgically embedded onto their forearms when they were born. An oraninc affair that grew as they did, gathering relevant and age appropriate information, supported by monthly updates to the wetware chip connected to the host's cerebral cortex. The keypad was invisible until activated and a far cry from the wristband that Mari, and other offworlders wore.
She tapped out the required pathways and the image of the aforementioned character appeared on the screen. The professor watched for a while before saying.
"Disjointed. Flailing almost. An attempt to gain balance to an action that is foreign to its perpetrator."
'Runs like Woody."
The professor smiled once more.
"Runs like Woody." He conceded. "I like that analogy. Throughout your paper you seem to use a lot of references to early 21st century pop culture I see."
"I do." Agreed Mari. "I wanted people to understand what goes on in the mind of children with autism. Something they can relate to. To connect with."
The professor nooded, almost to himself.
"The angst felt by this 'Hulk' person for example.
"Yes. The fury of not being understood, of non-comprehension that boils up inside until..."
"Bang." Said the professor.
"Bang." Agreed Mari. "Autstic rage - A meltdown almost."
"Hulk smash, I believe the saying to be."
"Indeed." Agreed Mari, her appreciation for the professors understanding growing to something akin to respect.