// NATURE NEWS — SPAZIO & SCIENZA
The pianist who never played
Ian Li (he/him) is a Chinese-Canadian economist, developer, writer and poet. Find his writing in Asimov’s, Strange Horizons, Year’s Best Canadian Fantasy & Science Fiction and elsewhere. Learn more at https://ian-li.com.
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Her deft fingers tapped silently in the air. They had been designed to play melodies, despite never having met a piano. From the storage shed’s dusty window, she watched the newer pianist on the gorgeous grand piano in the main parlour, dreaming it was her playing instead. How could they know this other pianist played better, if they’d never even heard her perform?
The shed door creaked open and the butler walked in. His warm hands opened up the battery compartment on her back to swap out her fizzling battery. He turned to walk out, but stopped short when his eyes met her forlorn gaze.
“It’s not your fault — your arrival was delayed due to a shipping disruption, and he got so impatient, he bought a newer model at the local store … Don’t be like that. There’s still hope.” His encouragement was betrayed by a pendulous sigh.
She watched the usurper dance on the keys for what felt like eternity. Androids never got sick or tired, after all. Still, she waited. What else could she do?
When the butler returned, he carried a box. “There’s more to life than piano,” he said, revealing a knowledge module, a glowing orb of circuitry that unlocked something inside her. “Why don’t you try reading?”
He unloaded an assortment of books onto the concrete floor. She cracked one open, cocking her head to glance inside. Words flowed out like musical notes, harmonizing into stories that swelled inside her. She felt characters come to life, taking bold action and seizing control of their lives. Her fingers fluttered as pages flew between them, and when the evening sun’s rays flickered away, she’d exhausted her supply of stories and resorted to reading grubby warranty manuals archived in the shed.
The butler returned regularly to replenish her books. She slowed down to an adagio pace, savouring each word as she listened to the brooding sound of Chopin floating from the house. But however captivating she found books to be, her fingers still twitched with longing for the keys of a piano.
When the entire family left on a rare outing, the butler flung open her door, haloed in the morning light. “The family is out. We’re bringing you to the piano!”