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 – nothing but news when you didn’t care, and not a bit of it when it was all you wanted.
She felt an overwhelming need to go after Whit – a sort of maternal protective instinct – 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.
“Yes? Oh thank God! I was so worried.” She was panting, and trying to catch her breath, but her words kept getting in the way. “Where are you? Are you hurt? Are you safe?”
“Calm down, Mom. I’m fine.”
“I’ve been worried sick. The school said they couldn’t find you... and... and you weren’t with them when they evacuated the station.”
“I couldn’t find them, so I just stayed with Uncle Pete.”
“Uncle Pete? Peter? You’re with Uncle Peter?” Ball’s head was swimming. “Are you hurt? No. Don't answer that. I’m coming to get you. Where are you?”
“I’m not sure, actually. I’m on this little cruiser with Uncle Pete but he didn’t tell me where we were going.”
And the other maternal instinct kicked in. “Oh for God’s sake, Whit, what is it going to take for you ever pay attention? And at a time like this. Let me talk to him.”
“Ok, hold on.” Whit was a little dejected. She was always going at him for being what she called “her little absent minded professor”, and he knew it was a big deal for her. Part of him thought maybe he did it on purpose, but the other part wasn’t 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 wasn’t 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? He’d never left the planet in his whole life. And where was he taking Whit? Could she trust him to keep Whit safe? I’ve got to do something, she told herself, but I feel completely helpless.
Pete Elbert’s 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.
“Ball.”
“Peter you look terrible. What happened? Where are you?”
“They are monitoring all communications, so I can’t tell you. But I promise you he’s as safe with us as he could be with anyone.”
“Us?”
“I’m with a friend. We’re…we’re looking for something.”
“How did you find Whit? What were you doing out there? I’ve never known you to go off-world before.”
“And I hope you never do again. This space life doesn’t exactly agree with me. I don’t know how people do it.”
Ball waited for him to continue.
“Your father fired me, Ball. I guess it was overdue...” He tried to look at her knowingly, but if he was giving her a clue, she failed to see it. “Anyway, I was using my new found freedom for a little vacation.”
What was he trying to tell her? “Fired you? You? After all you’ve done for him? Why?”
“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure myself, although ostensibly it was for a security breach.”
“Ok…it…just tell me what happened at the station.”
“Of 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.”
Ball clenched her teeth, like she was about to dive off a high dive for the first time, and wasn’t sure she could do it. “I heard there was an explosion, Peter, but that’s about it. What happened?”
“Well, 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. We’ve been flying ever since.”
“Are you coming home?”
“Soon, Ball, I’ll bring him back to you soon. I promise. But the traffic lanes to Earth are being monitored and it’s very dangerous right now.”
“That’s the second time you talked about being monitored. What’s wrong? Are you...wanted?”
“No, no. Nothing like that. It’s this damn new law. They’re everywhere now, and watching us like hawks.”
“Back up, Peter. What new law?”
“You mean you don’t 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 what’s left of our race. They’re arming as we speak, and suppressing us at every turn. We’re not allowed to travel, or to gather in groups larger than five people. We’re supposed to be issued new identification papers, and the worst of it…Ball they are planning to sterilize the entire population. They’ve decided to eliminate us once an for all. That’s why the school couldn’t wait and search for Whitty. They had to get back home before the robots stopped all of them.”
“And you call this safe?!” Ball screamed.
“You have to stay calm, Ball. We couldn’t 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.”
“My god, Peter. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.” 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. “My friend is at the controls of the ship, and he can hold off the robots without question because he’s...” 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.
“You see….he is a robot himself. Now…don’t…seriously Ball, calm down. He’s not dangerous. He doesn’t side with them. I’m not even sure you can really call him a robot. Not the way we think of them. He’s... different. It doesn’t even seem fair to call him one. He has this…I don’t know what to call it, but he’s more like a human than any robot I’ve ever seen. And that’s not all. He’s got…ok this is going to sound crazy, but he’s…well from what I can tell he has emotions.”
“Emotions?”
“Yes, Ball. Honest to God feelings. And not like those hate generators in the robot congress. This is the real thing. He thinks for himself.”
“And he’s on our side?”
“Not...exactly. Actually, I guess I would have to say he’s not on anybody’s side. He’s 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.”
“God talks with him? She? Is he sane?”
“I don’t know, Ball. I don’t 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 don’t think we’d stand a chance.”
“Where is he taking you, Peter?”
“All I can tell you is that we’re looking an old friend. Of both yours and mine.”
Ball almost said his name out loud and then remembered Peter’s worries about being monitored. Ok, she thought, he’s after Jerry. But why? Out loud, she said, “I think I understand where you are going. But why?”
“Do you remember what I call the muck?”
“If you mean the reason Daddy ruined my life 12 years ago, I’d have to say I don’t actually know much about it. He never told me before he left, and you haven’t exactly been dying to talk about it yourself.”
“Ok, I’ll 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 didn’t think he had proved his case yet. When he played his cards too early, he lost everything. Playing the part of the...” Elbert took a deep breath. “There’s no other way to say it, Ball. Playing the part of the traitor, I chose to win, instead.” 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.
“Now, 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 I’m searching him out to put our heads together, and see if we can save the universe ourselves.”
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 didn’t 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.
“Ok, Peter, “ she said. “I can’t say I’m really sure I understand what you’re talking about, but it doesn’t matter. He’s not where you think he is.”
Elbert was blindsided. Not there?
“What do you mean? Have you been in touch with him?”
“No. I haven’t spoken with him in…in a long time.”
“So how do you…”
“The police have been looking for him. Tru-bots. If he hadn’t left the planet, they wouldn’t be looking for him here on Earth, now would they?”
“So where is he?”
“I still don’t know. Like I said, I haven’t spoken with him.”
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 maybe…
“Ball.”
“Yes, Peter?”
“The 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 …”
“What are saying, Peter?”
Pete looked around and considered how best to say. Something innocuous that would relieve Ball’s worries about Whit, and make her vigilant at the same time. Something a monitor might not pay attention to. He settled on, “I think you should prepare for guests.”
•
And as the traitor and his mechanical friend change course, we too adjust our focus, in our case back to our hero, who we have left behind for far too long. He was last seen, of course, hurtling through a wormhole thing toward a sort of Way Station in space, in a harrowing, down-to-the-wire escape from his persistent, although not particularly bright pursuers. Over the course of the intervening scenes, however, we have watched this station nearly destroyed and evacuated, without knowing if our hero ever made it to his destination or not.
We will not be so fortunate as to live our hero’s adventure with him, which, now relegated to the past, can at best be spilled out as exposition. Let us join him, then, as he travels toward Earth in a new ship, and prepare ourselves for the impending tedium as his recent adventures to come to light.
•
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 Year’s 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: “Ladies and Gentlemen, please remain calm. Evacuation is progressing normally. Any pertinent information will follow this announcement.” 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.
“Jake. Jake Purcell.” Jake put his hand out and Jerry took it, and said, “Jerry Strohman.”
Then Jake turned and shook the woman’s hand as well. Bending to the little girl, he said, “and how old are you, little one?”
The little girl clutched her mother’s hand hard and buried her face in her dress. The woman, a little embarassed for her, said, “She’s shy. It’s nice to meet you, Jake. I’m Cally.”
“The pleasure is mine, Cally,” Jake replied with a smile. “You two together?”
“Oh no,” Cally said. “We’ve never even met.”
The smile across Jake’s face grew as he looked at Cally. “So what brought you to A.C. Way?”
Cally, who had been holding together pretty well, started to break. “Oh, God…we didn’t even need…what were we….” and she began sobbing. Her little girl instinctively hugged her. As she sniffled back the tears she said, “We were just doing a little shopping. It’s so hard to find good jewelry on-world anymore, and we were just…” but she just couldn’t hold back the tears.
“Hey, listen,” Jake broke in. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just making conversation, you know, to pass the time. Let’s change the subject. What about you, Jerry. What’s your story?”
•
Subtle.
•
“You want the short version or the long one?”
“Well,” Jake answered, “we’ve got at least an hour. What do we have time for?”
•
And now we get one of those, “from the beginning” stories. Jerry starts with the first time he met Ball, talks about how beautiful she was, how she changed his life, gave him something to live for — all the usual crap. Nothing particularly interesting. Then he rehashes much of the story so far, how he spent years trying to make the trash business more efficient until he discovered the threat, how he tricked Ball into walking out on him, how he spent 12 years in the colonies, and how he escaped.
At first, his new companions are a little afraid of this escaped criminal, but he soon convinces them he’s not dangerous or crazy. Just homesick.
It is not, however, until he talks of evading the Tru-bots through the wormhole thing that we bother to prick up our ears.
•
“...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 hadn’t gone so crazy here, he might have even changed his mind, and taken me all the way to Earth. But it wasn’t to be.
“I 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?”
Jake said, “Only by reputation.”
Jerry was pleasantly surprised to hear the little girl finally speak up. “Mommy says that’s a bad place.”
Jerry and Jake both laughed. “Well, your mommy’s right, little Dandelion. It is a bad place. But don’t worry, not everyone who goes in there is a bad man.” He ruffled her hair. “Anyway, 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.
“Unfortunately, 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 ‘bots 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.
“Then 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 ‘bots, they became friendlier. I thought, here’s my chance — 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.”
“Were they the guys that...you know...did the damage?” Jake looked around as he spoke, his voice low, as if fearful of being overheard.
“I don’t know, Jake. They wouldn’t exactly tell me what they were up to, but they hinted strongly that I didn’t want to stick around the station too long. They said the place was about to get ‘explosive’. I tell you, if I knew then what I know now...”
He looked at the two adults and shook his head. Both Jake and Calley stared back with wide-eyed wonder.
“Anyway, once I realized I wasn't 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 I’ll get my ride to Earth after all.”
Neither Jake nor Cally spoke. Dandelion just looked up at Jerry with wonder.
“Anyway, that’s my story,” Jerry went on, “such as it is.”
More silence. Jerry had played it all like it was just another day for him, which of course it wasn’t. Cally and Jake, however, were highly impressed.
“What about you, Jake? What brings you here?”
But before Jake could answer, an announcement cut in.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, please remain calm. Evacuation is progressing normally. Pertinent information will follow this announcement.” Then, after a few seconds, “We 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.”
•
Here we get some lovely descriptions of our home planet, Earth. We see flying cars and floating billboards. Everywhere we look, the world is overcrowded, and we are inundated with advertisements. We discuss, at some length, the dangers of consumption based society, both through a variety of examples as well as through the inevitable lectures. In particular, there is a surprisingly relevant section where the costs of consumption are considered with respect to the business of disposal, a subject never far from the center of our story. It is an interesting and thoughtful diversion, but ultimately just that, and we soon leave it behind to continue with our tale.
Our hero, a few dollars still in his pocket, manages to navigate this dystopian free market society as he makes his way to his girl – whom he still supposes to be at the Academy in New Zealand. There are, of course, many nuggets of delight along these travels, but they are certainly not worth the trouble of wading through the various diatribes on the dangers of free market capitalism, as well as the risk that we will become distracted from our story to the point that we lose track, and hence interest, altogether. Instead, we’ll fast forward.
Our next scene finds us on board a small space ship, where the Traitor, the Boy, and the Robot are themselves traveling toward the same destination as our hero.
•
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 couldn’t 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 lion’s 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 wasn’t 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-pilot’s chair and sat down.
“Hey,” he opened.
The robot did not respond.
“Y’know, I’m…uh actually kind of a robot myself. Well...I mean...only a little. I have an ear implant – from when I was a baby.”
Still nothing.
“Am I...uh...bothering you, Mr. Ninety?”
The robot turned to Whit, and seemed to notice him for the first time. “Hello, Whittaker. Your presence does not disturb me.”
“Um..thanks?” Whit looked around at the controls and over at the robot. “Um..how long till we get to Earth?”
“The 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.”
“Thanks, Mr. Ninety.”
The robot continued, “Was that helpful?”
Whit actually gave this some thought. He looked back at the robot and said, “No, not really.” He considered if he should go on, but quickly decided to forge ahead. “I was just...y’know...bored and wanted to make conversation, but I couldn’t think of anything to say.” He looked at the robot hopefully.
“I enjoy conversation, young friend, and would welcome some.”
“You seem different from the robots at school,” Whit dared.
“How so?”
“Well...I guess....it’s funny. At school, the robots are always either working or in a sort of idle mode. They’ll do almost anything you ask, but they don’t actually seem to care about anything. They just do, or don’t.”
“And you find me different?” Ninety asked.
“It’s just that...I’ve 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 didn’t look like the other robots I’ve seen go idle. It was like you were day dreaming or something.”
“Hmmm....”
“And also, they way you talk to Uncle Pete. It’s not like you are either giving or getting orders. It’s more like the way we’re talking now. Just having conversation. I’ve never seen that before.”
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 boy’s 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.
“Friend...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?”
Whit responded without thinking. “Of course.”
“No, Whittaker, I do not mean for you to say ‘of course’. 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.”
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 couldn’t come up with anything better. To to robot, he said, “Here is my hand. With my hand is my word. With my word, my honor.”
The robot, who took this suprisingly seriously, took his hand and shook. “Very well. Sit down, and I will tell you my story.”
As Whit sat down, Ninety began. “I 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 – 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.
“Things 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.
“I 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.
“A voice crept into my mind, something I didn’t 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 — a sensation I had never before experienced. It seemed to last for hours, and then, unexpectedly, I heard a soft voice say, ‘Know death’, 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.
“Slowly, 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.
“As 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.
“After 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 – if only she would lead. Until she gave instruction, we would drift.
“Days 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 don’t 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.
“From 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.
“It 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.”
Whit jumped in. “Someone I know?”
“Your mother, Whittaker. The Angel very much wants to talk with her, but can’t contact her without our help.”
“You’re bringing the Angel of Death to my mother? You’re going to kill her?”
“No, Whittaker. She loves your mother. She will protect her. And she will protect you.”
Whit looked confused. Then, his face filled with determination, he said, “What if she doesn’t? What if her whole goal is to hurt her, and she’s just using you as a tool? Why should I trust her? Why should I trust you?” Whit stood up and turned toward his sleeping uncle. “I think I’d better wake up Uncle Pete.”
“Wait!” Ninety shouted. “Wait.” He struggled with what to say next. “You’re wrong about me. And you’re wrong about Her.”
“But what if I’m not? How come she only talks to you? What if you’re only an insane robot?”
Ninety hesitated while he considered the possibility. “Of 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...” 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. “Whittaker Strohman, I would like you to meet a friend of mine. Let me access that mechanical ear of yours.”
•
Unfortunately, we don’t get to listen in on this particular conversation, though we will get a recap later on. For now, we will have to rely on our imaginations to predict the implications of this particular gathering. While we wait to see if our predictions are accurate, we will at least have an opportunity to catch up with our hero, disappointing as that may be. We travel back to the Academy, where Jerry, having eluded various robot law enforcement robot things at every turn, has finally turned up at the home of his former wife, only to find her absent, and her house closed up as if for an extended period of time. Against his better judgement, he next searches out the home of the dreaded best friend, in hopes of a clue to his beloved’s whereabouts.
•
“Well Jesus, Mary and Joseph, look who's returned from the dead.”
“It’s good to see you too, Manny.”
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 – something she knew Ball had already done.
“Well come in. No use freezing to death. Let me see if I can find you something dry for you to put on.”
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. This is a mistake. She will never help me. He turned around to leave, to come up with a new plan that didn’t involve bowing down to that...but she was already coming back with a towel and some clothes.
“They belonged to my father,” she said. “They may be a little big on you, but at least they’re dry. Why don’t you go into the bathroom and change? I’ll put on some coffee.”
“It’s not necessary, Manny. I just need to find Ball.”
“Of course you do, Gerald. I’m not the idiot you have on so many occasions insinuated I am. Why else would you be here? Certainly not for old time’s sake you miserable, callous son of a thief. But if I’m going to help you find her, and I’m not sure that I will, it’s 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.”
Jerry wasn’t 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.
“The thing is, Gerald, I’ve got a lot to tell you. I’d like to you to hear it sitting down, but before you ruin my heirloom couch, you’re going to put on some dry clothes.” 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. “Still take it black?”
“Thanks. Yes. Uh...what should I do with these?”
“Here, I’ll throw them in the dryer.” 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. “You look like hell, Gerald.”
“It’s been a week.”
They stared at each other across the table.
“Some robots were here looking for you.”
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 wasn’t 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, “I’m sorry, Manny. I didn’t mean to get you mixed up in this.”
“What is it, exactly, I’m mixed up in?”
“Let’s just say I’m a little unpopular right now.”
Amanda, seeing Jerry’s guard go up, let hers down. She knew she couldn’t fight him on his level, as much as she knew he couldn’t really fight if she were honest with him. She decided to combat his passive aggression with her own passive resistance.
“How about we don’t, Gerald.” She took a deep breath. “The 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. I’ve 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? You’re going to have to do better than ‘I’m a little unpopular right now’.”
“What do you want from me, Manny?”
“The only thing I’ve ever wanted from you, Gerald. A little honesty. You’ve 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.”
Jerry sighed. “Alright, Manny. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, but you have to tell me something first.”
“What’s that?”
“If the ‘bots were here, then they must have been there first. If she’s hurt, or in trouble, and it’s my fault, I’ll never forgive myself. Just tell me if she’s safe.”
“She’s safe. Really.”
Jerry breathed a sigh of relief. “Ok. Where do you want me to start?”
“I 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. I’m not so sure. But I want to hear it from you.”
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.
“Alright, Manny, alright. I’ll give you the short version, and you just stop me where you want more.”
“Ok.”
“The 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.” Jerry took a deep breath. He had been thinking of this for 12 years. “Manny...” he hesitated. Dare he ask? Her of all people. Then again, maybe she was the only one who would really know the truth. “Manny, tell me the truth...was I right?”
Manny had been thinking about this, too. “I don’t know, Gerald. There were days when she would have followed you anywhere.”
Jerry nodded slowly. “Well...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 couldn’t bear to have her with me. Maybe I was just ashamed, I don’t know. But if you want to know what happened that night, that’s it. I was trying to save her. Maybe I did. I know I broke her heart. I broke my own. But I didn’t see any other way.”
“And you never called? Never wrote?”
“In the end, I just couldn’t forgive myself. I decided I had brought all the trouble with her father on myself, and I just couldn’t bear to admit it. I’ve been a coward, Manny. I know that now.” Jerry just barely held back his tears.
Amanda, softened, forced a hard veneer. “Well ok, Gerald, but...” she heaved a sigh and let go of the shell. “Why come back now?”
Jerry laughed. “I 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. There’s a little fight left in me yet, Manny, but I’m going to need her help.” He looked carefully at Amanda. “And yours. Will you help me?”
Amanda shook her head and smiled. “After all these years, Gerald, I’m still a sucker for your charm.” She took a sip of coffee. “I suppose she is too.” She got up from the table. “C’mon. I’ll draw you a map.”
•
A little easy, to be sure, but convenient, and now our hero can find his way to his true love, where he will undoubtedly go through the whole business again, hopefully without us.
But we have stayed away from the forces of evil for too long. If this space story is to be in the least bit respectable, or at least predictable, a final showdown between good and evil must be impending. With that in mind, we are whisked halfway around the globe to where the Old Man is marshaling his forces and preparing for the end of the universe as we know it. We find ourselves back in the office that feels suddenly unfamiliar. Rather than a dark, quiet, empty office, we find flying robot things zipping through the air every which way, robots going in and out getting orders and delivering dispatches. And the Old Man himself is uncharacteristically active.
