Erasing Emily

Now Available as an Audiobook!

You can now have Erasing Emily read to you by Scott Michael Slone, who recreates the mood of the novel in vivid details. As a young man living on the east coast of the US, he is a perfect fit to tell the story as the robotics engineer who encountered Emily.

The android in front of me placed its hands on its knees, emitting a subtle hum followed by a metallic click that brought me back to the present. Watching it from up-close, I realized it was never completely still. It was constantly adjusting its posture, shifting its weight from one side to the other, making tiny, involuntary movements. This ongoing unconscious activity was not part of its design—it was a side effect of its training, a mimicry of biological restlessness. It was patiently waiting for me to engage.

The dim hallways smelled of dust and decay. Murmurs and metallic sounds echoed around us. The deeper we ventured, the louder the noises became—footsteps, whirring servos, something scraping against the floor. We climbed upstairs, walking through corridors connecting what used to be classrooms.

She glanced at both Sullivan and Gardner. “Counsels, given the unprecedented nature of this case, I’ll allow ample time and latitude for debate. If handled correctly, this could set a historic precedent. Let’s not rush it."

She nodded toward Gardner. “Counselor Gardner, the court is yours."

Mr. Bernstein, the tailor, greeted us as soon as we entered the shop and gestured towards the chairs along the wall. “I assume the suit’s for you?” he said, looking at me. “What’s the occasion?”

“I’m going to Capitol Hill.”

“Ah, serious business, then. I think I have just the right suit for you."

We settled into the limousine early the next morning, ready to depart Washington. Though everyone was already inside, the car remained stationary for a moment longer than expected.

After a while, the driver lowered the privacy window. “A heavy storm is forecasted along the route. We’ll take the country roads to avoid highway traffic.”

We reclined into our seats, bracing for the long journey home. As the limousine rolled down Pennsylvania Avenue, I caught a final glimpse of the Capitol building through the rearview window.

A crackle of static broke the silence. One of the officers trailing me responded to a call on his radio, blowing his cover.

“An intruder? We’re on our way,” he said. One of the officers broke into a run, disappearing down a side path into the dark.