Wilders

by Brenda Cooper

  “Push,” Erich yelled.

  Coryn wanted to hit him. Paula wasn’t a stupid work-bot you ordered around.

  But she did push, leaning in hard. The tree didn’t budge.

  The robot stood back up, looking contemplatively at the problem. She ripped two or three small branches away and threw them over the tree. She pushed again. It moved a little, and then a little more.

  Coryn stepped up beside her and leaned on a branch as wide as her arm, pushing as hard as she could. She wasn’t at all sure she made any difference, but it felt good to help.

  It took a moment or two before the men stepped in to help, and Coryn felt sure that if she hadn’t started pushing none of them would have. They would have let Paula do it all even if it broke things inside her.

  Rain beat on them, and the tree moved slowly, a tangled, wet weight.

  Her coat dripped water. She had to blink in the rain. Her right foot slipped out from under her and she only stayed upright because of her grip on the tree.

  Paula stopped pushing and turned around. “That’s enough. There’s a path.”

  Erich stared at Paula. “Maybe we should push it all the way to the parking lot.”

  “No.”

  Erich’s cheeks turned bright red, and for a moment Coryn though he might challenge them. But he waved them back in to the building without any thank you at all.

  Once inside, he barked at the people close to him, “Stay away from the windows.”

  Commands came easy to him, and people obeyed as easily.

  Tree branches slammed into the outside of the building twice, making the walls shake and driving short, complete silences into the crowd.

  Families migrated toward the center of the room as if some force pulled them together. Coryn gestured to Paula, and they joined the others on the floor. As people got close to each other, the fact that Paula was the only robot companion stood out. Some of the men and women glanced toward her from time to time with unreadable expressions on their faces. Paula’s standard black uniform looked disheveled from her efforts with the tree. It was easy to know what she was with even a short glance. Did they want Paula, or were they were jealous of Coryn for having her? Or were they frightened?

  Since the storm was bigger than the robot, for now, it was hard to tell.

  With this many people in this place, we’re safe, she told herself firmly. If the wind doesn’t blow us away.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Coryn woke up to an exhausted quiet. Paula’s hand rested on her shoulder as a guard against falling down the bleacher steps. Even with her sleeping bag for insulation and the inside of her damp coat for a pillow, the cold steps had been hard to doze on. She stood and stretched, then tiptoed up to the top of the bleachers to peer through the filthy, scratched window. The trees barely moved. Puddles in the soaked ground reflected high, gray clouds.

  Paula joined Coryn near the window and looked out. “What a mess!”

  In spite of the litter on the ground, most of the trees stood upright and birds flew here and there between branches. Rabbits munched grass contentedly in the open spaces.

  “Be quiet,” Coryn whispered. The floor was full of sleeping bodies tangled in coats and blankets, heads resting on each other’s arms and legs. “We should go.”

  Paula went silent, probably communing with whatever vestiges of net existed in the school after all that. “The road may be clear, but I can’t tell for sure.”

  “We need to go. These people have been watching you since we came in.”

  Paula kept her voice low. “I saw.”

  Coryn rolled her sleeping bag up and tied it to her pack. She started quietly down the bleachers. Jim and Steven were already awake and tending to the youngest of their children. They watched her and Paula quietly, looking almost regretful. Why?

  She stopped to fill up her canteen at a water fountain. The water trickling into it sounded like a waterfall in the windless morning.

  Erich sat next to the front door, half asleep. One eye opened as they approached.

  “Good morning,” she said. “Thanks for the hospitality.”

  He blinked and sat up. “Stay.” It was practically an order.

  They hadn’t even finished half a marathon of distance. “We have someplace to be,” she told him, keeping her voice low. “We appreciate your hospitality, but we’ve got to go.”

  He stared up at Paula, frowning. “We could use the robot’s help with cleanup.”

  Coryn pursed her lips. Was this like the socks, only now someone wanted time and muscle? She did her best to sound apologetic. “We can’t.”

  He tensed, and his mouth drew into a sharp frown. For a moment Coryn thought he might try to stop them, even though he must know Paula was a match for any one man in hand-to-hand combat. “Surely you can give us a day of help cleaning up. In return for the shelter.”

  Coryn smiled. “I’m sorry. I do appreciate you letting us stay. But we did help you move the tree, and we have to be somewhere. It’s important.”

  He pushed himself to stand close enough that she smelled his sweat and the sap and cedar on his hands from pulling trees away from the doorway. “If you stay here for a while, you’ll be safer. The roads are certainly blocked by trees.”

  She felt awkward about being rude, but she couldn’t be caught here, not so close to the city. She hadn’t even seen the real wild yet, much less come any meaningful distance closer to Lou. Besides, she couldn’t protect Paula from this many people. If there was a fight, there would be injuries, and she might lose, and Paula might be destroyed . . . She shivered, hating herself for thinking this way but certain that she had to. “We really do have to go.”

  Erich kept staring, as if the force of his personality could prevent them from leaving.

  Coryn gestured for Paula to go, and they passed Erich and went out into a morning washed bright and clean and full of small catastrophes. Wet leaves and stray branches covered the road, and mud from rain-born storm streams ran everywhere. A slight breeze touched her cheek. Coryn drew a deep breath; the air tasted fresh and damp and almost delicious. She grinned at Paula in relief. “Come on.”

  They picked their way through litter and over downed trees. Twice she and Paula pulled trees off the road. Two of the houses they passed had been crushed by falling trees, and three more had lost some or all of their roofs to the raging wind.

  People struggled through cleanup in front of many of the houses. Some stared at them; others waved.

  All day, it was slow going. Long before time to stop for lunch, Coryn’s feet dragged. Why was it so much harder to walk Outside than to run a marathon in the city? She glanced at Paula. “Maybe I need a virtual band.”

  “Shall I clap for you?” Paula asked.

  “Silly robot. That would draw attention.” She shook her head and walked further before saying, “Maybe I should stop calling you that. I’ve used that nickname as long as I remember, but now it feels childish.”

  Paula cocked her head to the side. “I consider it a term of endearment.”

  “Silly robot.”

  Halfway through the day, Coryn ate an energy bar and one of the few gels they had with them. It helped for about an hour.

  The farther they got from the city, the fewer houses they saw. Coryn had imagined they’d be at I-90 by the end of the day, but the little map on her wrist said they were no better than halfway there. Her feet stung, and the long night on the metal bench hadn’t done anything for her energy level. And how had her pack gained weight? She sighed in gratitude when Paula finally took it without a word.

  When a dusky orange and pink started to tinge the sky, she gave up. “I need to eat. I can’t keep going if I don’t eat.”

  “Shelter first,” Paula said. She led them into an old barn that had been down to half a roof long before last night’s storm. Together, they swept out the worst of the cobwebs with fistfuls of old hay and pulled in downed branches to fashion a pillow for Coryn. After she ate more nuts and tw
o sweet apples, Coryn lay back and looked up at the stars. “I never knew the sky could be so dark or that stars were so bright.”

  Paula spoke softly. “A windstorm like that clears the dust.”

  “I thought there wasn’t any more pollution.”

  “Experience suggests that not everything the city has told us is true.”

  Coryn blinked at that but chose not to talk about it, not yet. Her news sources in the city had lied about a lot. She hadn’t decided how angry to be about that. Should she assume it had good reasons?

  Paula shifted her position to be a little closer to Coryn. “The brightest stars are planets or stations.” She pointed. “The one just north of us? That’s from Moscow, and there’s almost a thousand people living on it. It’s one of the biggest.”

  “Can we see any of Seacouver’s stations?”

  “The city doesn’t own any. But two Boeing experimental stations should be visible before dawn.”

  “How many could we see if we stayed up all night?”

  Paula went silent for a long while. “Twenty-one, if we were outside. But through this hole in the roof? Three.”

  “I can’t see the moon.”

  “It will come up in twenty-seven minutes.”

  “Oh.”

  “So how do you feel about leaving now?” Paula asked.

  “I’m glad,” she blurted out. The barn creaked with a light wind, the sound sending shivers up her spine. “I miss weeding.”

  “You told me you hated weeding.”

  “Until I couldn’t do it anymore. I miss it now.” She had weeded rain swales, digging in sandy ground to pull out invasive plants. “I miss making up little songs while I weed.”

  “Do you remember any of them?”

  Coryn snorted. “If I did, I wouldn’t sing them right now.”

  “I bet there are weeds out here,” Paula responded.

  Coryn let out a long whistle. “I bet there are. Wake me up when the moon is overhead.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Helpful robot.” Coryn smiled and closed her eyes. Maybe she should have left Paula at home. She might not be a person by any legal standard, but as far as Coryn was concerned Paula had a personality, and Coryn couldn’t imagine living without her or seeing her hurt. And there were so many things Paula could do that she couldn’t do. Maybe Laurie had been more right than Coryn wanted to admit. Maybe she had become so used to getting help that she didn’t even notice all of the myriad things Paula did for her.

  Did she have the right to risk Paula’s life?

  The question kept her from sleep and then followed her into dreams that showed dead Paulas, stolen Paulas, and Paulas that simply needed to be fixed, only there was no place to fix them. She woke once with a deep dread of being even more alone than she’d been in the city. She turned onto her back and caught her breath.

  Stars filled the sky through the hole in the roof, a depth of stars she’d never really imagined.

  Every edge looked so sharp! If the stars came down and cut her to death out here in the wild woods, no one would ever know. Here, she was tiny and alone and insignificant.

  The thought followed her back down into slumber.

  Something rocked and shook, pulling at her; something else pinned her to the floor. Coryn flailed wildly before she was even awake; someone’s feet scuffled against old wood and a strange voice cursed softly. Her eyes flew open; she jerked, lashing out, but couldn’t sit up. The gray light of dawn seeped in through a bare, glassless window.

  Men knelt on either side of her, grabbing for her arms; she’d no sooner grasped the fact than they caught and held her by her wrists and elbows. They were muscular and young, maybe even her age. Both wore black vests. She had the distinct impression that if she could see the back of the vests there would be something written on them. “Who are you?” she demanded.

  They held her so silently she might as well have been captured by police robots. She could barely tell that they breathed. Both looked away from her, as if holding her was a side job, a thing they barely needed to think about.

  Fear and fury shot through her; she thrashed from side to side, kicking with renewed vigor. Her feet only met air. Where was Paula? “Paula! Help! Paula!”

  “Be quiet,” a voice demanded from by the door. She glanced toward it. Erich. He was dressed in the same clothes she’d seen him in at the high school, including the red cap. His small eyes gleamed with triumph.

  “You followed us!”

  He didn’t answer.

  Paula! The last time she’d seen her, Paula had been sitting beside her. She turned her head up to where she had been. She surveyed as much of the barn as she could see, and Paula simply wasn’t anywhere. She forced herself to take deep breaths and get some control back. “Where is she?”

  “She’s being reprogrammed.”

  “No!” The word ripped from Coryn’s throat. “No!” She kicked again, hit nothing again, did it again another way. Nothing.

  “You might as well calm down,” Erich said.

  Coryn’s gaze darted back and forth between her captors’ faces. They remained impassive, uncaring. They might be good-looking men if there was any personality on their faces. They looked like—but weren’t—robots.

  She gulped air, tried to stay calm and think. Paula had to be nearby or else they’d be gone. The robot was worth ten times anything she’d be worth to anyone. Why hadn’t she understood that? She had seen the way people asked about her, and the sock woman had told her what to worry about.

  Why hadn’t she taken her advice?

  How could she have been so stupid?

  How could she get free?

  She wanted the city and its million cameras, its relative and strange safety, its millions of faceless people that didn’t say hello to her but didn’t accost her either. She wanted its noise and bustle, its music and its safe crowds.

  She wanted help.

  A hot tear raced down her cheek, and she blinked, hating the tear, not letting any more fall. She couldn’t look weak. Whatever was happening, she knew better than to be a victim. Paula always told her that when they were out later than usual or when they passed through the darker parts of the city.

  The morning had brightened enough for her to see people’s faces. Erich was the only one she recognized.

  Why hadn’t she been more careful? Why hadn’t they hidden?

  Each moment that she stayed captive was a moment she wasn’t stopping Erich from reprogramming Paula. They’d have to break her security, and there was a lot of that.

  Surely it would take them a while.

  “Stay still!” Erich commanded. “I’m sure you want this to be easy.”

  “What?”

  “Easy on you. We want the robot. But we can’t have you identifying us. So we’re going to give you a little something to help you forget about the last few days.”

  “What?” There were drugs for that. They gave them to rape victims. If they wanted them. It was illegal to give them without consent.

  He wouldn’t!

  Who would catch him here?

  Her heart pounded as she stared at the men holding her. They looked serious.

  “Marina?” Erich said. “Do it.”

  A tall redheaded woman dressed in brown leather walked up, her figure strangely elongated as she came close to Coryn and loomed over her. Her black boots smelled like mud and forest. Her hair hung down at her sides in braids, almost like a character of an Indian maiden from history books or from a history game.

  She clutched a syringe in one hand.

  Coryn kicked at her, but Marina moved easily to avoid the blow, sliding away like a dancer—or a fighter. She stared down at Coryn, a pitiless hard stare, a hungry stare. Her eyes were a wrong-green, some color achievable only with implants or dyes or something.

  Coryn spit at her, bucked, screamed.

  Marina held up the small automatic syringe. Her other hand darted in to capture the skin on Coryn’s upper arm b
etween the hands holding her down.

  Coryn sucked in a breath and screamed again. “No!”

  Something moved behind Marina, a blur, and then Marina was yanked up and the syringe pulled from her hand and thrown.

  Paula?

  Coryn kicked again, but her captors yanked her to her feet, facing away so she couldn’t see what was happening while one of them looked each direction.

  They held her tightly, even while clearly paying attention to whatever was behind them. She tried to turn her head far enough to see and one of them slapped her.

  She stomped down on a foot, dug her heel into a calf. The two young men remained immovable.

  She struggled.

  With shocking suddenness, the men shoved her away. The rough floor peeled skin from her wrists as she caught herself; she barely managed not to hit her head.

  She rolled, scrambling to get to her feet, to see what had made them let go of her.

  The entire barn door was filled by a set of three ecobots in full enforcement mode, their heads up, twitching back and forth to observe everything in the building. At least two arms held weapons. Swarms of small drones filled the barn.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Ecobots jostled forcefully through the open barn door. Coryn backed up against the wall, trying to ignore the ghostly touch of spiderwebs brushing her cheek. The men who had shoved her away were being bombarded by small drones while struggling to get the bolt open on a human-sized door opposite the bots. They kept twitching as the drones slammed into them, over and over and over. One of the ecobots pulled its head down and in. It rumbled forward, filling a good half of the barn, and used two of its hands to pull the two men backward.

  As soon as they were grabbed, they stilled, their faces frozen with fear. The ecobot pulled them out of the barn, backing out with precision.

  Coryn looked around. The barn was empty. Erich and Marina must have gone the way of the other two men; there was no other exit. She grabbed her pack and Paula’s and staggered outside under the weight of all of their belongings.