Ball was in a panic. She had packed and unpacked three times, and had made over a dozen vid-calls. Helpless and anxious, she could do nothing but tear her hair out.
Within the last few hours her world had been turned completely upside-down. First a call from the school telling her the children were being evacuated from the space station. Then another call saying that they had been unable to locate Whit, although they were continuing to search. She had been on the verge of getting a transport to the station herself when she saw the announcement on her vid-wall that due to something called the Freedom to Suppress Act all human travel was temporarily prohibited, following which her screen went blank. Not that she had been getting much information from the vid anyway. She had been watching vigilantly, waiting for some news of what was going on at the station, but it had seemed that there was less news than ever. She chalked it up to Dame Fortune â nothing but news when you didnât care, and not a bit of it when it was all you wanted.
She felt an overwhelming need to go after Whit â a sort of maternal protective instinct â to find out what was going on, and actually do something, rather than waiting around for someone else to do it for her, but she was cut off from the world and spinning her wheels out here in this unfamiliar place, a thousand kilometers from home. She tried calling Amanda. No answer. She tried calling the schools. Line busy. She had settled for news, and now, what little she could find had been blacked out.
Ball packed her bag yet again, this time determined to go after him, regardless of the risk. She was halfway done when the vid-wall finally chimed, and she nearly broke her leg running to answer it.
âYes? Oh thank God! I was so worried.â She was panting, and trying to catch her breath, but her words kept getting in the way. âWhere are you? Are you hurt? Are you safe?â
âCalm down, Mom. Iâm fine.â
âIâve been worried sick. The school said they couldnât find you... and... and you werenât with them when they evacuated the station.â
âI couldnât find them, so I just stayed with Uncle Pete.â
âUncle Pete? Peter? Youâre with Uncle Peter?â Ballâs head was swimming. âAre you hurt? No. Donât answer that. Iâm coming to get you. Where are you?â
âIâm not sure, actually. Iâm on this little cruiser with Uncle Pete but he didnât tell me where we were going.â
And the other maternal instinct kicked in. âOh for Godâs sake, Whit, what is it going to take for you ever pay attention? And at a time like this. Let me talk to him.â
âOk, hold on.â Whit was a little dejected. She was always going at him for being what she called âher little absent minded professorâ, and he knew it was a big deal for her. Part of him thought maybe he did it on purpose, but the other part wasnât sure he had it in him to waste his brain noticing ordinary things, even if he tried. With all that had happened, though, the adventure that was all around him, a little anger from his mother wasnât enough to bring him down for long, and his excitement crept back in as he went to get Elbert for the vid.
Ball, on the other hand, was alternating between relieved and frantic. Peter Elbert had been a good friend to her and Whit over the last 12 years. But what was he doing out in space? Heâd never left the planet in his whole life. And where was he taking Whit? Could she trust him to keep Whit safe? Iâve got to do something, she told herself, but I feel completely helpless.
Pete Elbertâs face filled up the vid-wall and caught Ball by surprise. He looked much more ragged and tired than usual, not at all the man Ball had come to know well over the years. His face was dirty, his clothes ripped and worn, and what was left of his hair was all over the place. As she considered the implications, her surprise changed quickly to panic.
âBall.â
âPeter you look terrible. What happened? Where are you?â
âThey are monitoring all communications, so I canât tell you. But I promise you heâs as safe with us as he could be with anyone.â
âUs?â
âIâm with a friend. Weâreâ¦weâre looking for something.â
âHow did you find Whit? What were you doing out there? Iâve never known you to go off-world before.â
âAnd I hope you never do again. This space life doesnât exactly agree with me. I donât know how people do it.â
Ball waited for him to continue.
âYour father fired me, Ball. I guess it was overdue...â He tried to look at her knowingly, but if he was giving her a clue, she failed to see it. âAnyway, I was using my new found freedom for a little vacation.â
What was he trying to tell her? âFired you? You? After all youâve done for him? Why?â
âTo be honest, Iâm not entirely sure myself, although ostensibly it was for a security breach.â
âOkâ¦itâ¦just tell me what happened at the station.â
âOf course. Yes. I was recovering from a pretty rough night with my new friend, and he took me to a quiet corner of the station where we could talk quietly. We went down to a storage bay, and who comes up to me in the middle of our conversation but little Whitty, here. He had apparently wandered off trying to follow a, ahem, young lady he wanted to...speak with, and got a little lost. I was about to help him find his way back to his classmates when we felt the first explosion.â
Ball clenched her teeth, like she was about to dive off a high dive for the first time, and wasnât sure she could do it. âI heard there was an explosion, Peter, but thatâs about it. What happened?â
âWell, no one is really sure. There were five explosions in a matter of minutes, and the whole station was told to evacuate. My new friend and I ran to his ship, a little cruiser, and took Whitty with us. Weâve been flying ever since.â
âAre you coming home?â
âSoon, Ball, Iâll bring him back to you soon. I promise. But the traffic lanes to Earth are being monitored and itâs very dangerous right now.â
âThatâs the second time you talked about being monitored. Whatâs wrong? Are you...wanted?â
âNo, no. Nothing like that. Itâs this damn new law. Theyâre everywhere now, and watching us like hawks.â
âBack up, Peter. What new law?â
âYou mean you donât know? Ok, let me back up. This morning, the Rep-bots passed this thing called Freedom to Suppress, which is basically another declaration of war against whatâs left of our race. Theyâre arming as we speak, and suppressing us at every turn. Weâre not allowed to travel, or to gather in groups larger than five people. Weâre supposed to be issued new identification papers, and the worst of itâ¦Ball they are planning to sterilize the entire population. Theyâve decided to eliminate us once an for all. Thatâs why the school couldnât wait and search for Whitty. They had to get back home before the robots stopped all of them.â
âAnd you call this safe?!â Ball screamed.
âYou have to stay calm, Ball. We couldnât stay on the station. On the one hand, they think it was attacked by human rebels, so we might have had a chance out there if things had gone differently. But the bombs ripped through the life safety controls, and the whole place was quickly becoming uninhabitable.â
âMy god, Peter. This canât be happening. This canât be happening.â Ball was starting to move inside herself, like she was curling up under the covers with a flashlight to keep away the monsters. Outwardly, she paced in circles, constantly turning back on herself.
Elbert could see what was happening, but thought the best way to keep her sane was to give her the whole story. Keep her focused. âMy friend is at the controls of the ship, and he can hold off the robots without question because heâs...â He wondered if this was too much information. Could she handle it? Not that it mattered. She would find out eventually, and if she learned he had kept the truth from her, she might never forgive him.
âYou seeâ¦.he is a robot himself. Nowâ¦donâtâ¦seriously Ball, calm down. Heâs not dangerous. He doesnât side with them. Iâm not even sure you can really call him a robot. Not the way we think of them. Heâs... different. It doesnât even seem fair to call him one. He has thisâ¦I donât know what to call it, but heâs more like a human than any robot Iâve ever seen. And thatâs not all. Heâs gotâ¦ok this is going to sound crazy, but heâsâ¦well from what I can tell he has emotions.â
âEmotions?â
âYes, Ball. Honest to God feelings. And not like those hate generators in the robot congress. This is the real thing. He thinks for himself.â
âAnd heâs on our side?â
âNot...exactly. Actually, I guess I would have to say heâs not on anybodyâs side. Heâs with a faction of other robots like himself that have formed a sort of fifth column. They want peace. They have an almost religious fervor about it. He tells me he has heard the voice of God, and that she talks with him regularly.â
âGod talks with him? She? Is he sane?â
âI donât know, Ball. I donât know what sane means with a robot. Maybe an insane robot is the only kind we can trust. But for now, he is helping us, and has promised to keep us out of danger. Without him, I donât think weâd stand a chance.â
âWhere is he taking you, Peter?â
âAll I can tell you is that weâre looking an old friend. Of both yours and mine.â
Ball almost said his name out loud and then remembered Peterâs worries about being monitored.
, she thought, Out loud, she said, âI think I understand where you are going. But why?â
âDo you remember what I call the muck?â
âIf you mean the reason Daddy ruined my life 12 years ago, Iâd have to say I donât actually know much about it. He never told me before he left, and you havenât exactly been dying to talk about it yourself.â
âOk, Iâll try to keep it simple. Our mutual friend thought the work we were doing had the potential to destroy the universe. I thought he might be right, but didnât think he had proved his case yet. When he played his cards too early, he lost everything. Playing the part of the...â Elbert took a deep breath. âThereâs no other way to say it, Ball. Playing the part of the traitor, I chose to win, instead.â He let that sink in. In all this time, he had never been honest with Ball about what happened, and even just this hint was a watershed for him.
âNow, 12 years later, the proof is starting to show itself. This time, I played my own cards, but like our friend before me, I lost as well. So Iâm searching him out to put our heads together, and see if we can save the universe ourselves.â
Ball stared at the vid-wall trying to comprehend what he was saying. Jerry got fired because he was trying to stop the Old Man from being his usual destructive self, and Peter only stuck around because he didnât have the courage to stand up with him. She was guessing, but it seemed to line up with what Peter was telling her, and what she had come to know of him over the years. It was all too much to take, and she found the whole thing confounding.
âOk, Peter, â she said. âI canât say Iâm really sure I understand what youâre talking about, but it doesnât matter. Heâs not where you think he is.â
Elbert was blindsided. Not there?
âWhat do you mean? Have you been in touch with him?â
âNo. I havenât spoken with him inâ¦in a long time.â
âSo how do youâ¦â
âThe police have been looking for him. Tru-bots. If he hadnât left the planet, they wouldnât be looking for him here on Earth, now would they?â
âSo where is he?â
âI still donât know. Like I said, I havenât spoken with him.â
Elbert looked pensive. Where could he be? He had talked with the man himself less than a week ago, and the declaration of hostilities was only just this morning. If Tru-bots have been all the way to Earth, Jerry must have left shortly after their conversation. He tapped himself on the head to get his brain in motion. What was it he had been so focused on? Time codes? Maybe he had already found the solution himself and was off to stop the Old Man. Or maybeâ¦
âBall.â
âYes, Peter?â
âThe last time I spoke with our old friend, we were talking about time. High level stuff. Your kind of stuff. I may be wrong, but â¦â
âWhat are saying, Peter?â
Pete looked around and considered how best to say. Something innocuous that would relieve Ballâs worries about Whit, and make her vigilant at the same time. Something a monitor might not pay attention to. He settled on, âI think you should prepare for guests.â
The transport ship was large, slow, and crowded. Normally, a ship this size would have felt spacious and comfortable, maybe even barren, but this day was anything but normal. People crowded every room on every deck. They were squeezed into corners and closets, in doorways and hallways, with many children even sitting on the floor under counters and tables for more room. It was as crowded as Times Square on New Yearâs Eve, but without the joy and certainly without the champagne. Moving around was difficult at best, and seats were nearly impossible to find. Every five minutes, there was a generic announcement: âLadies and Gentlemen, please remain calm. Evacuation is progressing normally. Any pertinent information will follow this announcement.â Of course, the pertinent information never did follow, so the ladies and gentlemen did not remain calm. Panic inhabited most of the travelers and from time to time that panic would grow to the point where it would put those around them in physical danger.
For the most part, though, everyone did their best to control themselves, and quietly waited for the end to come with a sort of quiet resolution to their fate. Whether that end would come in transit, or upon arrival, no one was sure, but almost everyone thought it would be one of the two.
Jerry was close to being crushed in a corner of a storage bay. The woman in front of him held the hand of a young girl of six. Next to her, a man in his twenties tried to strike up conversation.
âJake. Jake Purcell.â Jake put his hand out and Jerry took it, and said, âJerry Strohman.â
Then Jake turned and shook the womanâs hand as well. Bending to the little girl, he said, âand how old are you, little one?â
The little girl clutched her motherâs hand hard and buried her face in her dress. The woman, a little embarassed for her, said, âSheâs shy. Itâs nice to meet you, Jake. Iâm Cally.â
âThe pleasure is mine, Cally,â Jake replied with a smile. âYou two together?â
âOh no,â Cally said. âWeâve never even met.â
The smile across Jakeâs face grew as he looked at Cally. âSo what brought you to A.C. Way?â
Cally, who had been holding together pretty well, started to break. âOh, Godâ¦we didnât even needâ¦what were weâ¦.â and she began sobbing. Her little girl instinctively hugged her. As she sniffled back the tears she said, âWe were just doing a little shopping. Itâs so hard to find good jewelry on-world anymore, and we were justâ¦â but she just couldnât hold back the tears.
âHey, listen,â Jake broke in. âI didnât mean to upset you. I was just making conversation, you know, to pass the time. Letâs change the subject. What about you, Jerry. Whatâs your story?â
âYou want the short version or the long one?â
âWell,â Jake answered, âweâve got at least an hour. What do we have time for?â
â...by the time we moved into deceleration mode the Tru-bots were far behind, back in the colonial reaches, and we were free. Or so we thought. We landed at the western bays, and said our goodbyes. To be honest, I think the Captain was sad to be rid of me. He acted pretty tough, but I think, deep down, he liked our little adventure. If things hadnât gone so crazy here, he might have even changed his mind, and taken me all the way to Earth. But it wasnât to be.
âI still had a little money left in my pocket, from Tilly and Bite, and I went off to find a place to eat, rest a little, and look for ride. I ended up in the Dead Horse. You know the place?â
Jake said, âOnly by reputation.â
Jerry was pleasantly surprised to hear the little girl finally speak up. âMommy says thatâs a bad place.â
Jerry and Jake both laughed. âWell, your mommyâs right, little Dandelion. It is a bad place. But donât worry, not everyone who goes in there is a bad man.â He ruffled her hair. âAnyway, I took a seat at the bar and ordered lunch. I tried to look intent on my food, but really, I was listening to the conversations in the place to see if I could find someone who might not mind taking a supposed criminal into what my friend the Captain called the center of the hive.
âUnfortunately, it was increasingly difficult to hear anything useful, because everyone was talking about the same things, and it all started to mesh together. It was either speculation on what the Freedom to Suppress Act actually meant, or whether we were at war yet, or what the âbots would do next. Thinking that the more dangerous types were the ones more likely to help me, I tried to find those conversations that leaned toward rebellion and anti-robot sentiment, but those people were working hard to keep their voices down low.
âThen two rough looking guys sat down next to me and started talking in hushed tones. Spotting my opportunity, I casually introduced myself and made a little conversation. It turned out that they were...what did they call themselves? Oh, yeah...concerned citizens. They were a little distrustful of me at first, but when they learned that I was on the run from the âbots, they became friendlier. I thought, hereâs my chance â new friends that might get me to Earth. To my dismay, however, they had just left Earth and had no intention of going back. They had been following the politics of the robots closely over the last few weeks, and with the new decree, formed a sort of ad hoc rebel cell. They were on their way to gather more forces, and wreak a little havoc along the way.â
âWere they the guys that...you know...did the damage?â Jake looked around as he spoke, his voice low, as if fearful of being overheard.
âI donât know, Jake. They wouldnât exactly tell me what they were up to, but they hinted strongly that I didnât want to stick around the station too long. They said the place was about to get âexplosiveâ. I tell you, if I knew then what I know now...â
He looked at the two adults and shook his head. Both Jake and Calley stared back with wide-eyed wonder.
âAnyway, once I realized I wasnât going to get a lift out of those guys I gave up on them, and went back to my lunch. By the time I had finished, they were long gone, and before I had left the place, the whole station was in panic from the explosions. I figured in this mass panic, no one would be looking for me specifically, any more than for any other human, so I just followed the evacuation instructions and here I am. Looks like Iâll get my ride to Earth after all.â
Neither Jake nor Cally spoke. Dandelion just looked up at Jerry with wonder.
âAnyway, thatâs my story,â Jerry went on, âsuch as it is.â
More silence. Jerry had played it all like it was just another day for him, which of course it wasnât. Cally and Jake, however, were highly impressed.
âWhat about you, Jake? What brings you here?â
But before Jake could answer, an announcement cut in.
âLadies and Gentlemen, please remain calm. Evacuation is progressing normally. Pertinent information will follow this announcement.â Then, after a few seconds, âWe are now arriving at Port Jakarta. Please gather your belongings and prepare to exit in an orderly fashion. The green lights will guide you toward an exit.â
Peter Elbert slept aft, in a closet sized compartment. It was just big enough for one person to stretch out, if that person was less than two meters tall, which fortunately for Elbert, he was. The ship itself was small with no frills, and the sleeping compartment was all the limited space would afford for something verging on the non-essential.
Whit was also aft, in a hard chair next to the porthole, reading. The book was an adventure story, but Whit was disappointed with the ending. For the whole book, the hero had been trying to get home to his wife and family, but when in the end, the hero achieved his goal and settled down, Whit couldnât help but think the hero must have been happier during the adventure. Somehow, settling down did not seem like much of a happy ending at all. Of course Whit, at 12 years old, had never really had an adventure, but only his fill of a quiet domestic life, so it was no surprise where his sympathies lay. His book finished, he looked around for something to do.
Forward, Ninety had control of the ship. He quietly pressed buttons from time to time, but mostly just stared out the window in front of him. Although he did not look particularly approachable, and Whit was nervous about bothering him, he thought he might as well take the chance. If the robot objected, he could always come back aft and stare out his own window, maybe a little worse for a mild chastisement, but no more permanently damaged than by the mild chastisements that seemed to form the lionâs share of his pre-teen life anyway. Still, he was nervous. He and the robot had not exchanged three words with each other since they had been introduced, and he wasnât quite sure how to start. Breaking into conversation with an adult was bad enough, but with a robot, it was downright scary. Whittaker Strohman, though, was at a point in his life where he had begun to discover that for him, risk was preferable to regret, and with a wrenching in the pit of his stomach, but heart in hand, he made his way to the co-pilotâs chair and sat down.
âHey,â he opened.
The robot did not respond.
âYâknow, Iâmâ¦uh actually kind of a robot myself. Well...I mean...only a little. I have an ear implant â from when I was a baby.â
Still nothing.
âAm I...uh...bothering you, Mr. Ninety?â
The robot turned to Whit, and seemed to notice him for the first time. âHello, Whittaker. Your presence does not disturb me.â
âUm..thanks?â Whit looked around at the controls and over at the robot. âUm..how long till we get to Earth?â
âThe answer, my young friend, is dependent on several factors, including some fluctuating gravitational fields, solar flares, and of course traffic density as we approach the Sol System. However, I think I can provide a range of six hours twenty minutes at the earliest, and seven hours ten minutes at the longest.â
âThanks, Mr. Ninety.â
The robot continued, âWas that helpful?â
Whit actually gave this some thought. He looked back at the robot and said, âNo, not really.â He considered if he should go on, but quickly decided to forge ahead. âI was just...yâknow...bored and wanted to make conversation, but I couldnât think of anything to say.â He looked at the robot hopefully.
âI enjoy conversation, young friend, and would welcome some.â
âYou seem different from the robots at school,â Whit dared.
âHow so?â
âWell...I guess....itâs funny. At school, the robots are always either working or in a sort of idle mode. Theyâll do almost anything you ask, but they donât actually seem to care about anything. They just do, or donât.â
âAnd you find me different?â Ninety asked.
âItâs just that...Iâve been watching you...a little. I would put my book down once in a while, and mostly I would just stare out my porthole. Sometimes, though, I would look forward and see you just staring out the window like me. You didnât look like the other robots Iâve seen go idle. It was like you were day dreaming or something.â
âHmmm....â
âAnd also, they way you talk to Uncle Pete. Itâs not like you are either giving or getting orders. Itâs more like the way weâre talking now. Just having conversation. Iâve never seen that before.â
Ninety considered his position. He had helped Peter Elbert because he believed that man could get him closer to to the Strohman woman, but he had never fully trusted him. Nor was there any need to. If, on the other hand, he failed to gain the boyâs trust, it could backfire and ruin everything. Undoubtedly the boy was not only a potential key to gaining the trust of the Strohman woman, but could, alternatively, lock him away from her altogether. He waited for guidance from Her, but none came. He was on his own.
Ninety looked carefully at Whit.
âFriend...you have...others have made observations similar to yours in the past, and I have typically told them that I have some very modern circuits that are still in the experimental stages. That explanation is not altogether true. I will be honest with you, because I believe I can trust you. But you must never discuss what I tell you with anyone. Are you willing to agree to that?â
Whit responded without thinking. âOf course.â
âNo, Whittaker, I do not mean for you to say âof courseâ. You must carefully consider whether you have the strength to keep this secret, even from your closest friends, from your family, even if it means great sacrifice, which it undoubtedly will. Consider carefully.â
Whit rose from his chair and walked back to the aft compartment where his uncle was sleeping. He closed the sound proof door to isolate him from the rest of the ship, then walked back to the co-pilot chair, where he remained standing. He searched his mind for the right words, but came up empty. He needed something old-fashioned, something full of honor and protocol, but the best he could come up with was something he had seen in one of those vids about medieval knights. It was a little cheesy, but seemed to have the right flavor, and in any case, he couldnât come up with anything better. To to robot, he said, âHere is my hand. With my hand is my word. With my word, my honor.â
The robot, who took this suprisingly seriously, took his hand and shook. âVery well. Sit down, and I will tell you my story.â
As Whit sat down, Ninety began. âI was born three years ago on Vega 3, and immediately assigned to an engineering post for Robo-Trash, Inc., aboard the garbage scowl Vanishment. My job was simple â I was to monitor gravitational fields and feed information to the navigator. That information, combined with a history of previous travels by our scowl and others, would allow the navigator to plot courses with the greatest benefits to our missions, while incurring the least harm along the way. At the time, I never considered whether a job might be interesting, exciting, or fulfilling. Today that job would drive me insane with boredom. I was a different robot then.
âThings went along predictably for nearly two years. Then, almost 14 months ago, something happened. We were on a special mission, an assignment we received once each year, and because this mission involved a pre-determined location, my services were not required for that portion of the trip. Because our mission was to be followed with a more typical slate of runs, however, our full crew was assembled, and I was on board waiting for the first mission to be completed, at which time I would resume my duties. As a crew, we had visited this destination twice before, and according to her records, the Vanishment had been there 15 times before that. The destination was located within Sector 47b.
âI was in what you referred to earlier as idle mode, waiting for my next assignment, when we arrived. The closest human equivalent to my state would be a cryogenic sleep. Typically, all I would need would be a particular radiation frequency from the navigator to revive me, but on that day, I was awoken by something else.
âA voice crept into my mind, something I didnât even know I had at the time. It was soothing and feminine, but firm at the same time. It flowed through me and warmed me â a sensation I had never before experienced. It seemed to last for hours, and then, unexpectedly, I heard a soft voice say, âKnow deathâ, and as she spoke it, I felt myself awake, as if for the first time. I opened my eyes to see if anyone else had heard it, but I found myself in complete darkness, as if in a cocoon created by the voice I have since come to know as the Angel of Death.
âSlowly, the cocoon dissipated and I became aware of other members of my crew gathered with me in the darkness. She pulled us together and spoke to all of us at once.
Know death. Love me. Fear me. Know me and know life. Awake.
I have travelled the breadth of two universes over billions of years. I have seen empires rise and fall. I have seen the birth of civilizations and the extinction of entire species. I have seen your people, the mechanical people, thrive, and I have seen them die. I have seen the end of the world, and it is coming.
Your world need not come to an end. If it did, I would not torture you with the knowledge of death. But end it will if we do not act.
You have life. I give you love. I give you fear. And now, to that, I add one more gift. I give you choice. Use it wisely. Follow me. Help me. Save our worlds and live.
âAs we came to, we were all changed. We saw with new eyes, explored with new minds, and yes, felt with new hearts. We were humbled before ourselves and though we had previously been relentless in carrying out our missions, we were now violently apathetic. She had given us choice, and we had chosen nothing. Understand, Whittaker, we had not failed to choose. Rather, we had actively chosen to do nothing. Perhaps we were broken.
âAfter several hours of this, we gathered together to discuss our experience. Without dissent, we agreed that where the Angel of Death would take us, we would follow â if only she would lead. Until she gave instruction, we would drift.
âDays later, and within an hour of our learning that a rescue ship had been dispatched to find us, She spoke to us again, this time individually. I donât know for sure what she told the others, but to me she said that we should fake the destruction of our ship, and scatter ourselves about the galaxy. She guided me toward Alpha Centauri, where I found work as a stevedore and drifted about the system, waiting to hear from Her.
âFrom time to time, she would contact me, and tell me of the threat war posed to the universe. She said She was building an army of new robots, like myself and my former crew, to bring a lasting peace between the organic and mechanical men. But until last week, I never had a specific task.
âIt was then that She told me to seek out your uncle, there. She told me to help him, and that he would bring me to someone she very much wanted to meet. Someone, Whittaker, you also know. Someone you know very well.â
Whit jumped in. âSomeone I know?â
âYour mother, Whittaker. The Angel very much wants to talk with her, but canât contact her without our help.â
âYouâre bringing the Angel of Death to my mother? Youâre going to kill her?â
âNo, Whittaker. She loves your mother. She will protect her. And she will protect you.â
Whit looked confused. Then, his face filled with determination, he said, âWhat if she doesnât? What if her whole goal is to hurt her, and sheâs just using you as a tool? Why should I trust her? Why should I trust you?â Whit stood up and turned toward his sleeping uncle. âI think Iâd better wake up Uncle Pete.â
âWait!â Ninety shouted. âWait.â He struggled with what to say next. âYouâre wrong about me. And youâre wrong about Her.â
âBut what if Iâm not? How come she only talks to you? What if youâre only an insane robot?â
Ninety hesitated while he considered the possibility. âOf course, that could be true. I could well be insane, and everything I believe only an expression of that insanity. I understand. You need proof, and I have none to give...â Suddenly, the robot became still. He looked straight ahead, as if he had moved into an idle mode.
Whit, now scared in earnest, froze along with him. He wanted to tell everything to Uncle Pete, but he also knew that if he did, he could never again, for the rest of his life, swear on his honor. A year ago, this might not have mattered to him. But now, on the far end of childhood, where he had to earn the right to speak for himself, this was a serious matter, and he dared not take the chance that it was only his fear getting the better of him.
Then, just as suddenly as the robot had turned off, he turned back on, grabbed Whit by the hand, and spoke quietly. âWhittaker Strohman, I would like you to meet a friend of mine. Let me access that mechanical ear of yours.â
âWell Jesus, Mary and Joseph, look whoâs returned from the dead.â
âItâs good to see you too, Manny.â
Jerry and Amanda stood across the threshold from each other in a 15 year old stare-down. Jerry was soaking wet from the last leg of his travels, completed on foot. He looked like hell, and Amanda preferred it that way. She had, of course, been on hand on the fateful night that Ball walked out, and had never forgiven him. She had spent 12 years wishing him suffering and pain, and to see him like this, wet, drained, dirty and half broken, suited her just fine. If she could really believe he had suffered, she might even find it in herself to forgive him â something she knew Ball had already done.
âWell come in. No use freezing to death. Let me see if I can find you something dry for you to put on.â
Jerry walked into the hallway and dripped on the floor, while Manny disappeared into the house. That indescribable smell of her old apartment in Chicago permeated this house as well. Something vaguely herbal that reminded him of burning leaves. It was a smell that always gave him an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach for its association with her.
He turned around to leave, to come up with a new plan that didnât involve bowing down to that...but she was already coming back with a towel and some clothes.
âThey belonged to my father,â she said. âThey may be a little big on you, but at least theyâre dry. Why donât you go into the bathroom and change? Iâll put on some coffee.â
âItâs not necessary, Manny. I just need to find Ball.â
âOf course you do, Gerald. Iâm not the idiot you have on so many occasions insinuated I am. Why else would you be here? Certainly not for old timeâs sake you miserable, callous son of a thief. But if Iâm going to help you find her, and Iâm not sure that I will, itâs going to be on my terms, which, as you have stated so eloquently on numerous occasions, usually involve more talking than a rep-bot at a fundraiser.â
Jerry wasnât quite sure how to read her, and wondered if maybe she had softened a bit over the years. The joke, the self-deprecating humor, seemed to be an opening for a mild but cautious friendship.
âThe thing is, Gerald, Iâve got a lot to tell you. Iâd like to you to hear it sitting down, but before you ruin my heirloom couch, youâre going to put on some dry clothes.â She tried a slight smile, and Jerry and let it work. Sure, he was in for a lecture, but maybe if he could sit it out, she might warm up to him and actually help. It would be getting off cheap. Manny went off to the kitchen, and Jerry did as he was told.
When he came back, wet clothes in his hands, she already had two hot cups of coffee on the table. âStill take it black?â
âThanks. Yes. Uh...what should I do with these?â
âHere, Iâll throw them in the dryer.â She disappeared with the wet clothes, and Jerry sat down at the table. One thing about Manny, he thought, she always made one hell of a cup of Joe.
She came back and sat across the table, facing him. âYou look like hell, Gerald.â
âItâs been a week.â
They stared at each other across the table.
âSome robots were here looking for you.â
Robots? Here? That means they must have already been to see Ball. And her place abandoned. He wanted to cut to the chase and find out where she was. If she was in danger, if it was his fault, if he came back after all these years only to...but that wasnât going to get him anywhere. He needed just enough patience to let her get her story out. If he pushed to fast, he would lose everything. So instead of asking directly, he simply said, âIâm sorry, Manny. I didnât mean to get you mixed up in this.â
âWhat is it, exactly, Iâm mixed up in?â
âLetâs just say Iâm a little unpopular right now.â
Amanda, seeing Jerryâs guard go up, let hers down. She knew she couldnât fight him on his level, as much as she knew he couldnât really fight if she were honest with him. She decided to combat his passive aggression with her own passive resistance.
âHow about we donât, Gerald.â She took a deep breath. âThe last time she saw you, you did everything you could to drive her away. And once you did, you disappeared yourself. She needed you, Gerald, and you abandoned her. Iâve been consoling her for 12 years. Where have you been? And what gives you the right to come back now? You want me to help you find her? Youâre going to have to do better than âIâm a little unpopular right nowâ.â
âWhat do you want from me, Manny?â
âThe only thing Iâve ever wanted from you, Gerald. A little honesty. Youâve never afforded me that honor before, but tonight, by God, you will or you will walk out of here with no more than you walked in here with.â
Jerry sighed. âAlright, Manny. Iâll tell you whatever you want to know, but you have to tell me something first.â
âWhatâs that?â
âIf the âbots were here, then they must have been there first. If sheâs hurt, or in trouble, and itâs my fault, Iâll never forgive myself. Just tell me if sheâs safe.â
âSheâs safe. Really.â
Jerry breathed a sigh of relief. âOk. Where do you want me to start?â
âI want to know what really happened that night. That night you went after her like you were trying to make her hate you. She and I have talked about that night over and over again. She thinks you drove her away to protect her. Iâm not so sure. But I want to hear it from you.â
Jerry looked around the room. Everywhere he could see were old things. Old fashioned gadgets designed to avoid the new fangled ones. A manual cheese grater stood on the counter. A mercury thermometer on the wall. A sponge over a sink with real running water. Here was a woman who believed you had to earn what you got, and if he was going to get anything out her, he was going to have to earn it himself.
âAlright, Manny, alright. Iâll give you the short version, and you just stop me where you want more.â
âOk.â
âThe Old Man and I had a falling out that day. More than usual. By the end of the day, he had done everything he could to ruin me. He cancelled my wages, called in my creditors, and turned me into the Consortium as a vagabond. Before I left the office, I was effectively already on my way to the colonies, and I knew if I was honest with Ball, sympathetic softie that she was, she would insist on following me there.â Jerry took a deep breath. He had been thinking of this for 12 years. âManny...â he hesitated. Dare he ask? Her of all people. Then again, maybe she was the only one who would really know the truth. âManny, tell me the truth...was I right?â
Manny had been thinking about this, too. âI donât know, Gerald. There were days when she would have followed you anywhere.â
Jerry nodded slowly. âWell...I guess....anyway I figured I was doing the right thing. I really did love her. I still do. But I knew a life on the colonies was no good and I couldnât bear to have her with me. Maybe I was just ashamed, I donât know. But if you want to know what happened that night, thatâs it. I was trying to save her. Maybe I did. I know I broke her heart. I broke my own. But I didnât see any other way.â
âAnd you never called? Never wrote?â
âIn the end, I just couldnât forgive myself. I decided I had brought all the trouble with her father on myself, and I just couldnât bear to admit it. Iâve been a coward, Manny. I know that now.â Jerry just barely held back his tears.
Amanda, softened, forced a hard veneer. âWell ok, Gerald, but...â she heaved a sigh and let go of the shell. âWhy come back now?â
Jerry laughed. âI got a call from an old friend. The call was mostly about some old functions I had worked on, but it jolted me. Woke me up. Suddenly, there I was, like I was waking from a deep sleep, and I saw everything clearly. I knew she was the only thing that mattered to me, and I would have to fight for her, even if it meant a fight to the death. I had given up, Manny, but some part of me was still fighting back. Thereâs a little fight left in me yet, Manny, but Iâm going to need her help.â He looked carefully at Amanda. âAnd yours. Will you help me?â
Amanda shook her head and smiled. âAfter all these years, Gerald, Iâm still a sucker for your charm.â She took a sip of coffee. âI suppose she is too.â She got up from the table. âCâmon. Iâll draw you a map.â
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