Robot Awareness: Special Edition

by B. C. Kowalski

  Trzbz paused after saying the company’s name, letting his words have their intended effect. Nearly all of the aldermen, even those considered to be close to the administrator, let out a gasp, followed by an explosion of outrage, discussion and questions all turning into an unintelligible roar. The statesmen tended to be well-informed, and this was a surprise to all. The administrator turned a deeper shade of red, glaring at the alderman for a spell before grabbing his gavel and banging it repeatedly attempting the penetrate the clamor of the chamber in an attempt to restore order.

  Finally, the grumbling died down and a somber mood replaced the noisy chaos of the chambers. "Anything else, alderman?” the administrator said. It didn't go unnoticed that the alderman's remarks went without rebuttal.

  "Yeah. That anyone who wants proof can see the documents I have right here. I made copies,” Trzbz said, handing copies to the nearest alderman to pass along. “That I take pride in living in the outer ring, outside — supposedly — Company C's control, and that as long as I’m an alderman, I plan to do what I can to keep Farven Point that way.”

  The aldermen and the audience roared to life again, and the administrator banged his gavel, chipping a piece off its round percussive head. Sweat beaded in the corners of Malvers’ forehead as he contemplated the uncomfortableness the next few hours would bring.

  Chapter 27

  Joey followed Isellia through a busy district of Farven Point, as she weaved nimbly between well-dressed Farvians donned in their evening best for a night of upper-class adventures. She held his hand, likely the only thing keeping them in relative proximity through some of the more crowded sections of street.

  “You know, I kinda wanted to see how the meeting ended,” Joey pouted, hanging limply from Isellia’s grasp.

  Isellia turned to Joey with a smirk, until she realized he wasn’t kidding. “For real? Who would go to one of those unless they had to?"

  “Well, I think it’s interesting...” Joey muttered.

  Several blocks away Isellia spotted her intended target: a large dance hall lit up beyond even the strong shining lights of the stores, restaurants and night clubs that lined the entertainment district’s streets. Isellia’s eyes grew larger and her pace quickened as the ball’s site neared.

  “Nevermind that. This is much more interesting!” Isellia practically ran in her shoes with the pointy heels, something Joey hadn’t realized she’d even owned until he saw her prior to them leaving for the council meeting. Combined with her dress — white with red lines that drew the curves of her body — drew an extra gaze from everyone aboard the ship. It had made her embarrassed when she’d first come onto the bridge wearing it, Joey remembered; but he remembered a slight hint of a smile at the same time. She was more comfortable in her flights suit but even she donned a ladylike appearance sometimes, Joey decided.

  It apparently was important that he, Joey, who had been designated at Isellia’s whim to accompany her to this event, also look his best. He wore a nice pair of slacks and a white dress shirt, neither of which felt comfortable to him. Isellia had said he looked “not half bad,” and “a little less like a country bumpkin,” which he took as likely the best compliment he was to receive from Isellia.

  As they drew closer, Joey saw people dressed similar to he and Isellia (even more so since they were mostly other pilots who didn’t “dress up” very often), entered underneath the sign through a pair of brass-framed glass doors.

  A man in a black tuxedo stood guard at the door, looking up from a clipboard as the two approached. Isellia nearly dragged Joey between red velvet ropes set up as a funnel leading into the entrance. Joey could see now that the other pilots and their dates waited in a small line at the door while this tuxedoed man checked their invitations against his clipboard. He suddenly became very aware that to anyone seeing them, it appeared he was “with” Isellia. He looked at her standing in her dress and heels, and suddenly felt very much like an adult. Was this what being old felt like?

  "Can I help you?" Said a tall, mustachioed man who didn’t appear to have any interest in helping them.

  "Two for the ball!" Isellia said, unable to contain her enthusiasm.

  "Hmph, let's see if these are real..."

  "Of course they're real," Isellia said, frowning. "Why wouldn't they be?"

  The tall, thin man pulled out a small scanner, shining a rectangular blue scan light on one of the invitations. He transferred it to the other invitation, not bothering to mask the look of surprise on his face as he looked from the tickets to Isellia.

  "Very good," he said resignedly, handing them back to Isellia. She reached for them, but he held his grip on them. "Don't misbehave."

  “No promises,” she said, ripping them out of his hand. "Come on, let's find better company." She gave the host a smug look and pulled Joey inside.

  ***

  Malvers rubbed his temples as he looked around the council room in horror. He could barely watch as a small red rectangle lit up above each alderman’s platform, each a hologram signal shining like another light on a Christmas tree. The red, of course, signaled nay — the motion to deny the cultural center was getting voted down. That, confusingly to the novice, meant the cultural center would be likely be approved. There wasn’t a single green light in the room.

  It was stark contrast to most council votes. Despite having a room of many different voices, opinions, backgrounds, which usually led to many long-winded discussions, Malvers could typically count on a majority in favor of his proposals. By the time a proposal reached the council floor, he had anticipated every question, researched every possible objection and gathered every fact or figure he would need. Or, more accurately, he had ordered some department head to collect that information. By the time a council vote came out, he’d usually fed just enough information to the press, just early enough that they got a story out prior to the council; early enough to make the reporters feel like they’d gotten a scoop, but not early enough that there’d be enough time for debate or any real digging into the issue. He liked the council to play catch up.

  Rarely was he blindsided like this.

  He thought about the man with no face as he eyed the red lights. He thought about his family. He thought about the work that went into the proposal scheduled for next month. He thought about everything he’d built and how it was all falling apart.

  Malvers composed himself for a moment. No matter how his stomach churned at the thought of what was next, he couldn't let his fear, his anger, his frustration show. He took a moment to swallow it down, let it subside, then grabbed his microphone.

  "By a vote of 32-0-3, the motion fails," Malvers said in the most matter of fact voice he could muster. He glared at Trzbz, who stood with a big grin. Malvers knew the Trzbz lived to get one over on him, but he probably had no idea how much he had just done so. Trzbz’s grin grew, and Malvers just wanted to wipe it off his face. Malvers knew Trzbz was at the bottom of digging out the Company C project, and Trzbz knew that Malvers knew, and Malvers knew that Trzbz knew that Malvers knew. No alderman would have voted for a project that would have linked their name to a Company C project. Farven Point loved its independence, and that colored every politician’s choices, because no alderman who would have voted for the project would stand a chance at re-election.

  This would be all over the papers and holovision. His name would be tied to this attempt to bring Company C into Farven Point. Trzbz knew or would find out how much he was behind the proposal. Malvers was ruined. But that was the least of his worries, as his mind went back to the man with no face.

  Deep in thought, Malvers never noticed Kenpur in the gallery, watching him intently.

  ***

  The rest of votes concluded quickly, with Malvers doing little but calling role for votes. None of the remaining items were controversial, and the meeting lasted another five minutes after Malvers’s glaring defeat.

  After the council voted to adjourn, Malvers very quickly set his gavel down and ex
ited the chamber. Kenpur was still watching.

  “Go keep an eye on him,” Kenpur said, giving Rex the slightest of nudges.

  "Me too?" Celia muttered.

  "No," the old man sighed, leaning back in the fancy but uncomfortable bench. "I have other plans for you."

  ***

  Gowns that sparkled when their wearers moved, outfits that nearly covered their wearer’s entire body head to tow, and clothing that seemed little more than an elaborate network of string flooded Joey’s vision as he entered the main hall with Isellia. He gaped at the scene: Waiters and waitresses wearing mock race suits made to look like serving uniforms glided through the guests, bringing plates of delicacies from all over the galaxy. A large orchestra played music that energized the room, its energetic rhythm matched the enthusiasm of guests who chatted, laughed, danced or dined on hors d’oeuvres. A large centerpiece rested in the middle of the hall, a massive sphere on a base that would cast flashes of light throughout the hall. Winding staircases lined each side of the large ballroom, leading to a balcony guests leaned on as they chatted. Behind all of the activity was a series of tables topped with elegant wine glasses and mini centerpieces similar to the one gracing the hall.

  Joey was overwhelmed. He stopped and took it all in, only breaking his fixation when a woman in a silver cocktail dress that appeared to be constantly cascading like running water bumped his shoulder. She looked back over her shoulder and gave the briefest of smiles before disappearing into the throng of people.

  He watched her go until Isellia spoke. “Pretty neat isn't it?” Isellia said, her eyes wide with enthusiasm. Joey thought she looked drunk on the surroundings as she smiled at him with a happiness he hadn’t seen in her since they’d met.

  "I can't believe this place!" Joey exclaimed. "There's so many different kinds of people.”

  No sooner had Joey said this when something bumped his shoulder again. He looked up to see a man-shaped body with a big, blue head somewhat shaped like elephants he'd seen in history books about Old Earth.

  The creature looked at him a moment, twitched its head slightly, and made its way toward a waiter’s outstretched hors d’oeuvres tray.

  "What was that?" Joey asked.

  “Who, not what,” Isellia corrected. "You have to treat other species like people, you know. People will think your spaceship has no paint.”

  "Whaddaya mean? Our spaceship has paint,” Joey was confused.

  "It means uncultured, goofy,” Isellia said, rolling her eyes. She couldn’t long contain the smile that all this brought about, however.

  Her smile disappeared when a hand fell on her shoulder.

  "You racin' too?" asked a voice behind her.

  Isellia followed the hand up its arm to find Billy — the rockabilly boy whose dad owns an XR shop — attached to the end of it. Isellia had to stifle an outburst of laughter as she looked at his outfit — a tuxedo top with the sleeves ripped off, worn over work pants. Billy wore the outfit of someone trying, and failing miserably, to appear sophisticated.

  "What are you doing here?" Isellia asked, looking around. She wondered who might see her talking to someone so ill-dressed.

  "I'm here to win me a race, ya know," Billy snorted a laugh, roughly slapping her arm like he might one of his friends. “Fancy party ’n all, ainnit?”

  Isellia looked down at her arm, then back at Billy, who still didn’t seem to understand the difference between boys and girls. It made her chuckle a little.

  "Well, I'm here now, so you might as well go home," she said in a mock arrogant voice. “Clearly you have no chance now that I’m here.” Joey knew she wasn't entirely kidding.

  "You? Think so? Wanna wrestle? Huh-huh?” He stood in front of her pretending to be looking for an opening.

  Isellia looked at Joey, ignoring Billy’s goofy gestures. "Nevermind, you're clearly not the gear-brained one here."

  “Gear-brain?” Billy said, scratching his head. "Well, I ain't said nothing like—"

  Just then the music stopped, and everyone went silent. A spotlight shone on the staircase leading down the side of the ballroom from the second-floor balcony. At the top of the stairwell, a door opened.

  It stayed open for some time. Then out walked a woman in a silver dress, which sparkled and flowed as she moved, giving her the appearance of being in perpetual motion. She glided down the stairs, her flowing brown locks seeming to stream behind her as she moved.

  Male, female and other genders alike gasped as she made her way toward the bottom of the stairs. Her steps were like the paw prints of a tiny kitten, delicately kissing each red velvet-covered stair step as she descended the case.

  She stopped at the bottom of the steps, her head held high, as a man in a black suit and a microphone touched the back of her arm. "Presenting, last year's winner and three-time runner-up, Lady Veda"

  Everyone in the hall exploded in applause as she dipped and bowed — all except for Isellia, who grabbed the first drink available from a passing waiter and gulped it down, never taking her glare off the attention-commanding woman.

  "Veda," Isellia said under her breath, clenching the glass in her fist nearly enough to snap its stem off.

  Veda flowed among the other racers and their supporters, making small talk with some and offering her hand to others to have it kissed or hand-shook. Joey thought the smile might have been chiseled on her face, since it never seemed to change a bit.

  Until her eyes met Isellia's, after which her smile dropped into a flat-lipped grimace like a bomb.

  “Oh, it’s you,” Veda said, her voice dripping with distain.

  ***

  Malvers fumbled with his key card as he stood in front of his door, the evening’s events weighing heavily on his mind. He couldn’t bring himself to face the doorman, he was so embarrassed by his defeat; so he approached the rear door instead. He’d left the council chambers following the meeting, slipped in through his private car port attached to his office, and made his way out. He too great pains to avoid everyone he knew. He didn’t want anyone to see the embarrassment on his face.

  His card slipped from his grasp and lightly clattered on the back alley street, resting on the wet concrete. It was the only sound that echoed amongst the garbage bins lining the corridor. A few random lights provided some illumination.

  He shook his head in frustration, reaching down to pick up the wayward key card. Where has my confidence gone? he asked himself with a sigh. He’d been shaky ever since his encounter with the man with no face. The result of the night’s council vote hadn’t helped that any.

  As he peeled the card off the slick pavement, he noticed a pair of shoes in front of his. He'd had the feeling that he'd been followed, but since the man with no face, he’d had that feeling often. Perhaps he should have listened to that paranoia, he thought, as he stood up to see a tall, sinewy man who gave him shivers.

  "Can I help you?" Malvers said. He’d meant the question more as a statement than as an actual invitation to help.

  "Only one way you can help me," Rex muttered. Faster than Malvers could follow, Rex's hand chopped him on the side of the neck. He lost consciousness, noticing several other pairs of boots gathering behind Rex’s as he fell.

  ***

  "Well, well, well," Veda said, sauntering up to Isellia and circling her like a prize fighter would before a bout. All eyes watched her as her dress flowed with her movement. Even up close, the illusion held everyone's gaze; it really did appear that she was constantly in motion.

  "I haven't seen you since — well, let's just say I didn't expect to see you at another XR ball," she said, laughing as a taunt rather in reaction to anything humorous.

  "Veda," Isellia said cooly, her eyes narrowing as Veda stopped a short distance away. "How you've ... grown." Isellia made a point at glancing over Veda’s body as she said the word "grown." A storm passed quickly over Veda’s face, revealing only a moment’s glimpse of a cloudy demeanor before she regained her composure.

&nb
sp; "So what brings you here?" Veda asked. "Here to lose another race?"

  "Not on your life." Isellia stared at Veda more intensely than Joey’d ever seen from her.

  "Or, perhaps you intend to actually finish a race this time?” Veda asked with a chuckle.

  Isellia said nothing.

  Joey looked up at Isellia, almost afraid to ask. He did anyway. “Finish a race? What does she mean by that?”

  Veda seemed to notice Joey for the first time, for some reason smiling at the sight of him. Joey might have thought it a friendly gesture, if he hadn’t just witnessed the exchange between the two rivals.

  "Oh and who is this?" Veda asked in a sickly sweet voice.

  "I'm Joey," he said, missing the birthday-cake icing her question was laced with.

  "Well, are you Isellia's boyfriend? My, taking them young these days, no?"

  "He's NOT my boyfriend," Isellia said. Her face had begun turing red at the mention of completing a race, and deepening its crimson hue as Veda continued. Joey’s face flushed with embarrassment at the suggestion, and at Isellia’s quickness to deny that suggestion.

  "No?" Veda said, touching Joey's chin lightly with her fingers and thumb and winking at him. "Well, you could do worse."

  Joey blushed even more. He didn't like the way she was treating Isellia but he couldn’t help but get a charge out of being complimented by a beautiful woman. The whole experience overwhelmed him, and he could only stand mute and watch the proceedings. Isellia watch wide-eyed.

  "Anyway, since you seem to be unaware," Veda continued, "our little wonderchild, Isellia, has yet to actually finish a qualifying race."

  Joey's jaw dropped, and Isellia’s face reddened with embarrassment.