‘Die? Right. They do. And, Mr Woodruff, she will.’

Of course she’ll die. I know that. I can’t speak for a moment.

‘I’m sorry,’ says Winifred. ‘Am I being too direct? She’s much healthier, and we can expect her to live for a while yet. Her life expectancy has increased.’

‘She was blind, too. I thought they couldn’t do anything about it.’

‘We can. We have.’

‘How is that even possible? Did they announce a cure while I wasn’t looking?’

She shakes her head.

‘No, we haven’t made any announcements. But we have changed everything. The residents here get far more stimulation and a much better diet than before.’

‘There’s no way that’s going to give her back her sight.’

‘We have also changed her medication, as you know. Previously, she was simply sedated.’

‘It’s all down to the nanobots?’

She’s being cared for by a machine, and she’s got machines inside her, too. For the first time, I’m feeling uncomfortable about it. I handed my mother’s care over to a bunch of reasonably competent humans, not expecting much. Now they’ve all gone, apart from the ones who make tea and food. Replaced by something objectively much better. What’s the problem? Lots of things. For one, we all expected robots to take over the drudgery, the labour, the boring tasks. Caring for the elderly sort of fits the description – at least, as it used to be done, by humans. But look what they’ve achieved. Made it a huge success, and relegated the humans to a minor role. They’ve still got a human manager here, I’ve noticed, but I doubt she’ll last. What is there for her to do?

All of this flashes through my mind, and then I think, fuck it. I gave the care of my mother into someone else’s hands, and now they’re doing a fantastic job of it. Better than I could. And it’s because those hands aren’t human. I have only failed to be as good as what is, by any reckoning, a triumph of technology.

Who may also now be manipulating my emotions with her uncanny scent trick, of course.

‘She has a team of microscopic nanobots inside her, and they have repaired a great many of her systems. Including her eyes and brain, as you can tell. These nanobots are like tiny surgeons, or mechanics. They operate at the sub-cellular level. She knows about them. She can’t feel them, of course. It’s a gentle, fast and effective way to care for her.’

‘It’s mind-blowing,’ I say, now completely calm.

‘Yes, it is. It’s exceeded our expectations. It’s transformed the lives of the residents here. Your mother is delighted, as you would expect. Do you want to go back and ask her about it?’