A Boy and His Bot

by Daniel H. Wilson

  Code watched sadly as the two mowers pounced after each other like mossy puppies. He was going to miss those funny little guys. Appearances really can be deceiving, he thought. Then something flickered in the corner of his vision.

  Code shaded his eyes and scanned the desert but saw nothing. Shimmering waves of heat blasted off its surface. In the distance, the Beamstalk glimmered in the sky like an illusion. Peep swooped on top of Code’s head, gazed for a moment at the desert, then dropped into the shade of his shirt pocket and fell promptly asleep.

  “How are we going to reach the Beamstalk? It must still be a thousand miles away,” said Code.

  “Eight hundred and forty-three, actually,” replied Gary.

  “So what are we going to do?”

  “Walk,” said Gary. “And walk some more.”

  “Great,” said Code.

  Code had just taken one small step onto the sand when Gary screeched in fright. “You can’t walk there!” he exclaimed.

  “Why not?” asked Code.

  “That’s the Nanoscopic Traverse! It’s certain death to set foot inside the Traverse.”

  Code gingerly removed his foot. “But it’s just a lot of sand.”

  “It looks like sand. But it’s really the remains of cremated robots. The nanobots of the Traverse are too small to see, but there are billions of them. They can swarm over your whole body and dissolve it into sand—just like that.”

  And Gary snapped his finger cannons—ping!

  “Oh, no,” groaned Code. “What do we have to do, walk all the way around?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “At your maximum walking speed it shouldn’t take more than a year, plus or minus an hour.”

  “But that’s too long …,” said Code. He could see the Beamstalk gently wavering on the horizon. “We’ve only got a few days left before the robots are disassembled.” Code had a thought. “How are all the other robots going to make it there in time? Can’t we go with them?”

  Gary looked embarrassed.

  “What?” asked Code.

  Gary pointed to the sky with one finger cannon. Up above, Code noticed a pattern of very faint dots. The tiny gray specks were slowly moving across the sky toward the Beamstalk.

  “Are those robots?” asked Code.

  “Yep,” said Gary. “They’re using the robo-cannons. Mek mortars. Bot blasters. Those big guns can launch a bot across the continent in about five minutes. I hear it’s pretty relaxing. One big thump and then smooth sailing. Of course, if you tried it, your bones would turn to liquid and your eyeballs would shoot out of your ears.”

  Code growled in frustration. This was maddening. The robots could just step into a cannon and be launched to their destination in seconds. Meanwhile, he had to fight for every inch.

  “Don’t feel bad, Code,” said Gary. “It’s not your fault you’re just a delicate human.”

  Code looked from the skies to the forbidding sand. Nothing is ever as it seems here, he reminded himself. Maybe I should stop being surprised when things aren’t what they seem to be and start being surprised when they are. Looking hopelessly out at the flat expanse of sand, Code realized that something was out of place. Surprisingly, he wasn’t very surprised.

  “What’s that?” asked Code, pointing.

  A plate-shaped craft floated over the heat-blasted desert floor. The flat platform was covered with robots and tents and rugs. In the center, a big chair loomed over the tents. The craft rotated slowly as it hovered over the sand.

  “Look!” cried Code, rapping on Gary’s leg.

  “Gary, get their attention,” he said. “Those robots can give us a ride across the Traverse.”

  “I don’t know …”

  “Hurry up!” urged Code. “We’re losing them!”

  The ship was moving farther away.

  Reluctantly, Gary aimed a finger straight up. His fingertip hinged open and a finger cannon belched a ball of flame high into the air. The strange ship instantly changed course, zipping toward them over the sand.

  “See, Gary?” said Code. “They’re coming to help us already. It looks like they’re having a party.”

  “I don’t think so,” Gary said.

  Code squinted at the ship. As it grew closer, his hope faded. The big chair was a silver throne. And just above it was a familiar form. Immortalis hovered there, tentacles clutching the body of John Lightfall. The party guests were really robot prisoners, chained to each other. Solid-looking robot guards stood in a semicircle around the throne, holding banners that snapped in the hot wind. Suddenly, one of Immortalis’s long tentacles snaked out and snatched up a prisoner. It tossed the poor fellow overboard.

  “Oh, no!” cried Gary.

  The little bot fell from the platform and landed in the desert below. In a panic, it stood up and tried to wheel away. But before it could crawl even a few feet, it began to disintegrate as the nano-sized creatures consumed it. Within seconds, the prisoner dissolved into a puff of sand that blew away in the breeze.

  “They’re getting rid of prisoners,” said Gary. “And now they’ve seen us.”

  “C’mon, we’ve got to hide,” said Code, his heart pounding in his chest. In real life, Immortalis was frightening and huge—even from a distance.

  Gary and Code turned and fled back toward the trees, away from the desert, until Code was out of breath. With Immortalis safety behind him, Code stopped to take in his surroundings. He heard a whooshing, crashing noise coming from deeper in the woods. Cautiously, he made his way toward the sound and, peering through the trees, he saw a big, flat square of concrete in the middle of a meadow.

  Curious, Code marched over to the slab and stood on top of it.

  “What is this?” he asked Gary, who followed close behind.

  “Certain death!” boomed Gary.

  Code sighed angrily. “Why is everything always certain death with you?”

  “Code red! Relocate immediately!” shouted Gary.

  A sudden rush of wind blew past and tree limbs began to crash down around them. Code stumbled away from the square slab of concrete just as a crablike creature plummeted down through the forest canopy. With six brawny legs extended, it landed on the slab with a bone-jarring thud. Finally, the whole nimble machine settled down onto its flexible hind legs, then turned in place.

  “Where did that come from?” asked Code.

  “It’s a transped,” answered Gary. “They travel across Mekhos by hopping from one slab to another. I doubt this is its final destination.”

  It was true. With a playful wiggle, the machine suddenly unleashed all the pent-up force in its muscular robotic legs and shot into the sky over the Nanoscopic Traverse. In its wake, a flurry of leaves and branches fell to the ground. A stray tree limb smashed down with unnatural force and shattered into tiny metal flecks. Code jumped out of the way, narrowly avoiding having his brain mashed into pink goo.

  Then the shimmering flecks of metal from the shattered limb melted, forming a shallow river that flowed like syrup toward the desert sands.

  “What the heck?” said Code.

  “A nanotree,” said Gary. “Built out of a whole colony of nanobots invading from the Traverse. Pretty common here on the fringes.”

  Code looked at Gary, puzzled.

  Gary explained further. “Billions of tiny robots from the desert have gotten inside the tree and turned it into a big chunk of metal. That’s why it weighs as much as a boulder. You’re lucky you weren’t squished.”

  “Squished by nanobots too small to see?”

  “Yeah.” Gary chuckled. “How embarrassing would that be?”

  By now, the nanobots from the various broken limbs had spread out and joined together into inky black pools of liquid. The pools were creeping over the ground and forming into a larger pool—one that was encircling them both.

  “Cheese and crackers,” muttered Gary.

  Peep popped out of Code’s shirt pocket an
d scurried down the length of his arm, tickling him as she probed the pool of liquid with green beams of light. Then she skittered up Code’s arm and perched on his shoulder, glowing red and defiant.

  “Why is it surrounding us, Gary?” asked Code. “Are these things dangerous?”

  The two broad ends of the pool met and combined, creating a ring of thick black liquid that completely surrounded them. A menacing ripple went through the liquid.

  “Only if they’re hungry,” said Gary.

  “Are they hungry?”

  Gary didn’t reply.

  “Are they hungry, Gary?” Code repeated.

  The pool closed in tighter.

  “I’m afraid they’re always hungry, Code.”

  “Right,” groaned Code. He was getting very tired of running away from menacing robots, large and small.

  “Maybe we can jump—,” said Code, but was interrupted by a sharp crack!

  Just then, an entire tree crashed down and exploded into a flood of inky sludge. The circling pool of nanobots was forgotten as Code spotted the nose of the plate-shaped desert craft. It had found them and was pushing its way into the woods, breaking huge trees in half. Hovering above the silver throne, Immortalis gave commands to its stone-faced robot guards. All the prisoners were gone, presumably thrown into the desert. As the craft shoved its way into the clearing, the blue eye of Immortalis glared at them hatefully. It was then that Code noticed his grandfather hanging limply from Immortalis’s black tentacles.

  “Stop, human!” shouted his grandfather. Only it wasn’t his grandfather, Code had to remind himself. He swallowed a pang of sadness at the sight of that familiar face twisted into an angry snarl. Code wished he could hear his grandfather’s true voice just for a moment, but John Lightfall was under the control of that horrible monster.

  Peep chirped, fluttered her wings, and shot a beam of light back at the landing pad. Code backed up to the edge of the nanobot sludge. Gary stood beside the small boy defensively.

  “Let my grandfather go, Immortalis!” demanded Code.

  But the king only laughed. “You can’t stop the Disassembly,” he boomed. “This is my world, boy. You cannot run, you cannot hide, and you will not escape me!”

  Code’s hair was suddenly blown back from his face by a familiar-feeling rush of air. Another transped was going to land at any second.

  “Oh, no?” Code taunted. He tapped Gary on the leg and pointed to the concrete pad. “Let’s hitch a ride!”

  Gary snatched up Code and leaped over the river of nanobots, landing on the slab. Just then, a heavily armored transped careened through the air and touched down, sending stress fractures zigzagging through the concrete pad. The six-legged vehicle, plated with thick armor, didn’t even notice the extra weight added by Code and Gary, much less Peep. It settled down on its haunches and prepared to leap again.

  “No!” roared the king. He motioned forward and the rotating desert craft plunged ahead, crashing through the last of the trees, heading straight for them. Immortalis sent out a flurry of long, cruel tentacles.

  At the last second, Code looked directly into his powerless grandfather’s eyes. “I’ll save you, Grandpa. I promise.” Then Code glared at the blazing blue eye of Immortalis. “As soon as I’ve got the Robonomicon!” he vowed.

  Gary pulled Code closer.

  “This,” said Gary, grabbing hold of one of the transped’s hulking legs with one arm and cradling Code with the other, “may hurt just a little …”

  10

  Clockwork City

  The Great Disassembly:

  T–Minus Forty-eight Hours

  Code hung on tight as the transped soared through the air, wind rushing past. Then the ground suddenly loomed up. The transped leg that Gary and Code were clinging to extended for a smash landing onto another concrete slab. Gritting his teeth, Code tried to fight back a headache; he had lost count of how many brain-jarring leaps they had made. Each jump through the Nanoscopic Traverse brought them closer to a curious gray city perched on a cliff by the edge of the sea.

  Gary called this place Clockwork City, gateway to the Beamstalk.

  Code and Gary finally hopped off the transped just outside the city, balancing themselves on rubbery legs. Peep flitted around, dutifully shooting beams of green light at anything that moved. From a distance, the city was silent and still. Thousands of identical windowless buildings sprouted in perfect rows and columns. Wind blew down featureless avenues and whistled between buildings. It was the only sound or movement in the whole desolate, repetitive scene.

  Landing on Code’s arm, Peep shivered.

  “Code, I don’t think we should go in there,” said Gary. “There could be hostile robots. If they mess with you, we’ll have to fight. And there’ll be some slaughterin’ then, you better believe!” Gary’s eye visor blazed red and he poked his finger cannon in the air.

  Code gazed past the city and out to sea. A thin line rose up from the blue horizon and reached impossibly high into the heavens. “We don’t have a choice. Clockwork City is between us and the Beamstalk. We have to go through it and then find a way across the sea. It’s our only chance.”

  In confirmation, Peep darted away toward the dead city. Code shrugged and set off down the path. After a moment, Gary followed.

  Clockwork City was just as desolate up close as it was from far away. Sterile gray buildings loomed over empty streets. Their sheer, blank walls swallowed up the sound of Code’s footsteps. And the cubelike buildings stretched on for miles. There were no robots or cars or animals or advertisements or sounds or movements or smells—not even a piece of stray trash blew through the perfectly clean streets.

  The sound of a foghorn echoed mournfully against the tombstone buildings.

  “That’s from a ship!” exclaimed Code. “Let’s go!”

  Code and Gary pushed farther into the city, made a few turns, and circled back. They were quickly and thoroughly confused. Every building looked the same, every intersection was identical, and the maze went on as far as Code could see. Precious time was slipping away, and Code was tired and hot and grumpy.

  And lost.

  The horn sounded again, this time much fainter.

  “We’re going in circles.” Code sighed. “Mekhos makes no sense! You robots are impossible. Everything is either too small to see or too big to figure out.”

  “What?” exclaimed Gary. “This place is clockwork. It all runs according to a plan. Besides, you aren’t any different from us.”

  “Excuse me? I’m not a robot, Gary.”

  “Yes, you are. From the second that you’re born, your brain develops according to rules. Your personality is based on your experiences. There’s a pattern behind everything. Why, if I had a map of your genes and a video of your childhood, I could predict exactly what kind of boy you’d be. And exactly what you’ll do.”

  “I can do anything I want to.”

  “See? I knew you were going to say that.”

  Code was getting angry. “You’re the robot,” he said. “You’re the one who has to follow some dumb program all the time. Not me!”

  “Wrong. We robots change our minds all the time. Every time a robot learns something new, it makes new decisions. Just like you. And, of course, there are subatomic levels of uncertainty. And every once in a while, solar flares will cause us to go a little wacky. We’re not the predictable ones—you are.”

  “No, you are!” Code replied angrily. “I’m a human being and I can change.”

  “Congratulations. You’re a human being. Soft and squishy and you have to go unconscious for eight hours a day. How great. I can shoot fire out of my fingers, Code. Can you do that?”

  “Maybe not, but … but you’re just as lost as I am right now!”

  “Is that a fact?!” bellowed Gary.

  “Yes!” shouted Code.

  “Good!” exclaimed Gary.

  “Fine!” squeaked Code.

  “What?” asked Gary.

  “I
don’t know!” said Code, his face flushed with anger.

  In a huff, Code marched around the next corner, only to find himself face-to-face with a robot that was picking up a gigantic cube. Carrying the cube like a birthday present, the lifter turned and stalked loudly away down the block.

  Gary and Code looked at each other, their argument put on hold.

  “Hello? Robot?” called Code.

  But the auto-lifter ignored him completely. Code followed it at a safe distance, but stopped when he picked up the sound of another pair of crushing footsteps coming from nearby. Code trotted one block over and found an identical robot carrying an identical cube down a duplicate street. On the next block, Code and Gary discovered another copy of the same robot performing the same task, carrying blocks from one end of the street to the other. Soon the crushing sound of more footsteps came from all directions.

  Peep hit an auto-lifter with a beam of light, but it didn’t even break stride.

  Code followed the robot down the street and through an intersection. Suddenly he was overcome by the strangest feeling. Looking down the street, Code saw thousands of copies of the same robot walking across the intersection of every side street for miles and miles. It was like standing between two mirrors and looking off into infinity. Clockwork City wasn’t empty after all: it was full of robots that were all doing the exact same thing at the exact same time, and they were all ignoring Code completely.

  “Hey, robot! Look down here!” called Code. He searched around him for something to throw but found nothing. “Gary, what’s wrong with them? Why won’t they listen to me?”

  “Dunno,” said Gary, aiming his finger cannon at the oblivious, trudging auto-lifter. “But if they make one false move, kapow!”