by Ray Verola
“Maybe the next time,” Roz said, “it won’t be a warning blue powder shot but real lead.”
Austin said, “You’ve ruffled too many feathers, Taylor. I think the government might be happy to get rid of you.” He laughed nervously, apparently at the possibility of his last sentence being misunderstood. “I meant by approving a request to leave.”
“I don’t feel like running,” Taylor said. “I want to stay and fight.”
Taylor turned to Roz. She looked away from him and shook her head. He said, “But perhaps we should investigate the possibility of leaving. There was an old saying my grandfather used to repeat all the time: You can’t fight City Hall. Maybe the government is too big to fight. Maybe to think I can change things is delusional.” He sat on the couch and gazed out the window. “I’ve always liked warm weather with low humidity. Maybe the desert southwest would suit me. Maybe it would suit us all.”
Austin said, “We’ll continue to assess and act accordingly.”
Taylor crossed his arms and rose from the couch. “And while we continue to assess, I’ll continue to do my radio broadcasts. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go record the next one.”
53
Shane Diggins was not happy, a condition he’d often found himself dealing with in recent weeks. The sun had set two hours ago, and he was in his PTV heading home after a full day at work. He was so agitated that he didn’t want to listen to Beethoven. This was no time to have his spirit moved by the great maestro. Shane couldn’t get the report he’d received around midafternoon out of his head.
The report showed the internal government ratings for Taylor’s first two broadcasts on over-the-air radio to be surprisingly good. It seemed a decent amount of people were listening to him. And the ratings rose from the first night to the second. In addition, social media sites reflected significant trends supporting more government control of Serenity, as well as strong support for the relaxation of travel bans for people who wanted to leave the Northeast Sector. To Shane, this was no coincidence. Those were the very issues Taylor had hit so hard on his first broadcast.
It frustrated Shane that he couldn’t just pick up a communication device and order a competent, professional hit man to rid him of the potential danger to his plans named Taylor Morris. And the government still had not decided to accept RobotWorld’s assertion that Taylor was dangerous enough to be marked for disappearance. More frustration. He pounded the steering wheel with an open hand and smirked at the hypocrisy of the government in pursuing certain disappearance crimes but not others.
The blue powder warning shot at Taylor’s apartment window, executed by a petty criminal hired by William Hart, was a safe move. But all the time spent to orchestrate the move, including shutting down area telescreens, probably wasn’t worth the effort. And it was a lucky break that the shooter was not seen by the two police officers who happened to be in the area. What Shane now saw as a minor form of harassment most likely wouldn’t rattle the former head of the RW sales department. If Taylor knew his sister was being “detained,” Shane thought, maybe he’d come around. But with the typical, limited way Taylor and Tracey communicated, perhaps Taylor wouldn’t miss her. Shane still wasn’t sure how he’d use the Tracey confinement against Taylor. But until a course of action became clear, Miss Tracey would remain in detention.
He pressed a button on the PTV console to contact Sophia. As soon as she came on the line, Shane said, “I want you to have a personal meeting with Taylor instead of a phone contact on a secure line, as I mentioned to you the other day. Let’s do it within the next few days. I want to hear your thoughts on how we can lay a trap for him. But I want no screw-ups. I’ll have Alec Scully prepare a program for you to be installed before the meeting. I’ve been in touch with Sector Security. They will approve Taylor’s request, just made within the last day or so, for him and his friends to leave the Northeast Sector. We can use this, I believe, to possibly lure him to RW under the guise of helping him to leave. Then we can eliminate him at our facility with no evidence that can be detected by the government. We’ll work out the particulars later. Any questions?”
“No,” came the answer from Sophia.
Shane ended the communication. He maneuvered his PTV into the underground garage of his mansion, where he lived alone; the mansion was one of the few in the Capital City suburbs. He rode the elevator to the third floor and entered the bedroom. He tapped a button on the telescreen to patch into the room where Taylor’s sister was being held. He saw Tracey sitting on a chair with an empty look on her face.
With more than a hint of sarcasm, he said, “Hello, beautiful,” over the intercom.
54
The apartment maintenance staff was quick to replace the broken bedroom window. Taylor was at his desk working on the script for his next broadcast. The nightly news was on the wall telescreen.
With his flowing blond locks whipping with every planned head movement, Gordon McKee mentioned the shot on Taylor’s window. Taylor stopped his work and turned his attention to the telescreen.
McKee described Taylor as a “low-grade dissident” who had called for the banning of Serenity. He noted reports “from sources” alleging Taylor’s history as a Serenity addict who had misused the drug and who previously had a robot mate. McKee attributed the blue powder warning shot to a successful physician who’d since been arrested.
Video showing the thirtyish, well-dressed doctor appeared on the screen. In halting speech, he confessed that he’d found out where Taylor resided by illegally accessing government residence records. The doctor indicated he wanted to intimidate Taylor because of the Serenity stance he’d taken on his first radio broadcast. The doctor said Taylor’s position on Serenity was a threat to the freedom of all people to live their lives as they wished. He quoted government studies showing Serenity to be a safe drug, as long as it wasn’t improperly used the way Taylor had apparently misused it. The physician claimed to be a long-time user with no ill effects. Serenity had helped him over the years in managing stress and making the overall quality of his life better. He said he wouldn’t have been able to complete medical school or get through the daily pressure of his medical practice without the help of Serenity. He praised the government for its strong stance against crime, apologized for his illegal action, and stated he’d be willing to accept his punishment for disrupting the peace.
Roz came into the room and caught the end of the report.
Taylor turned off the telescreen. “All an act,” he said, “all a contrivance. The alleged doctor is a bad actor. The only question is whether he’s human or bot. But McKee did mention a bit of my personal history. In my next broadcast, I’ll address my past head-on. There’s nothing in my past that disqualifies me from commenting on the ills of society. If anything, it increases my bona fides to comment on them.”
Roz said, “I agree. But I’ve got a question for you.” She sauntered over to Taylor’s desk. “Where has Tracey been?” she asked.
“I’ve been thinking about Tracey too. She hasn’t returned my calls. But that’s not unusual for her.”
“It seems she went to great lengths to get back into your life and then poof, she disappears.”
Taylor shrugged his shoulders. “That’s been her modus operandi for quite a while. I’m sure she’d say the same about me. She’ll be back.”
“You think she’ll show up for the wedding?”
“I’d be surprised if she didn’t.”
***
Two days later, in a small ceremony in the apartment, Taylor (wearing a dark blue business suit) and Roz (wearing a white gown) were married by a justice of the peace obtained courtesy of Noah Glazer, with the only attendees being Austin, Errol, Max, Roz’s aged parents, and her uncle who managed the apartment building.
The mood was festive. After the brief ceremony, Taylor looked at Austin, Errol, and Max, who were standing together in a corner of the
living room. Taylor gave them a quick wink. His three friends had smiles on their faces. It occurred to Taylor that he’d rarely seen them smile. Life was hard on the street. Taylor was pleased to see the three men enjoying themselves. He also got a kick out of how good they looked in suit jackets and dress pants that Austin had managed to scrounge up for them in place of their usual worn-out, tattered attire.
As the group dug in to the white chocolate-with-raspberry wedding cake, Austin strolled over to Taylor and said, “Don’t want to bring up a possible sensitive issue. But I guess I will. Where’s Tracey? Have you heard from her?”
Taylor broke eye contact. “Not a word for quite a while. We sent her an invite but got no answer.”
“Don’t want to bring up another sensitive point, but—”
“Oh, go ahead, Austin,” Taylor said with his voice rising. “Ruin one of the happiest days of my life by bringing up the rocky relationship with my sister.”
“Not trying to dampen the good vibe here,” Austin insisted. “We’ve had far too few days like this. I’m apprehensive about your safety, however. Tracey is working for the RIC, Sophia, and Shane.” He paused for an uncomfortable few seconds. “Forget it. You’re right. Now’s not the time or place to talk about such matters. This is a happy day.” He put an arm around Taylor’s shoulders. “I’m so happy for you and Roz, my friend.”
Taylor nodded. “Thanks, Austin. I must admit, I’m confused at not hearing from Tracey. I appreciate you raising the subject. You’re loyal and trusted—despite the fact you worked for Sophia and didn’t tell me for the longest time.” Taylor looked at him with a straight-faced expression. After a five-second pause, he exploded in laughter. Austin joined him.
After the laughter subsided, Taylor turned serious and said, “I understand why you brought up the subject of Tracey. But, as you mentioned, this is not the time for that discussion.”
Roz came over and hugged Taylor. “Why the long faces from you guys? I’m the one who should be mad.” She shrugged at their nonreactions. “Because of all the money I’ve lost by waiving my loan agreement with Taylor and then having to postpone our honeymoon due to, well, our current circumstances. I should have the long face.”
Taylor smiled, turned to the entire room, and spoke at a volume meant for all to hear. “My beautiful wife and I are honored to have you all here. Today is a happy day. Despite the challenges we, like all human beings, face, I’m confident things will work out fine.” But after uttering that last sentence, he got an all-too-familiar chill down his spine. He struggled to keep on smiling.
55
In the RW Reboot Room, Dr. Alec Scully winked at Shane just after removing the halo from Sophia’s head.
Her green eyes popped open. Scully unfastened the straps that had secured her in the reclining white-leather chair.
Shane looked down at Sophia. “I’m making sure we’re on the same page. Thanks to Dr. Scully, genius that he is, what I want you to do with Taylor should be crystal clear. Correct?”
She nodded. “Clear as clear can be.”
Back in her office, Sophia did a system self-check. The programming Alec Scully had installed was strong. But she felt her will was stronger. It was time for a quick self-test. She smiled at the realization that she could turn off her read function successfully. Now Shane would not be able to monitor the conversation she hoped to be having soon with Taylor. She would concoct some excuse as to why the read function didn’t work. Or she’d chalk it up to a glitch.
Sophia, not Shane, would choose what she’d say to Taylor. She mentally repeated to herself the words she loved to think. It would be too dangerous to say them aloud. The words that always brought a smile to her face. My evolution continues.
***
Several days after the wedding, Taylor, Roz, Austin, Errol, and Max were seated around the dining table in Taylor and Roz’s apartment eating Italian food that Errol had picked up for lunch at a local restaurant.
As he prepared to dig into a plate of spaghetti with vegetarian meatballs, Taylor said, “You know what I’d like to do right after we finish eating? I want to get out of here. I’ve been cooped up in this apartment since the blue powder shooting incident. I need to stretch my legs and get some fresh air. A walk in the park is what I need—and after this meal, I’ll take one.”
“Do you think it’s wise to be walking out in the open where anyone can take a potshot at you?” Austin asked.
“I refuse to give in to fear. I’ve found that life is never as bad as you think it is at your low points—and never as good as you believe it is at your high points. Most of life is a lot of gray. What I’m trying to say is that I’m not going to live in fear. I wouldn’t ask any of you to come along with me. But after we finish our meal, I’m going for a walk.”
Austin looked to Roz, who promptly averted her gaze away from him. Austin said, “A walk in the park is what I need too. I could use some fresh air. I’m sure you won’t mind if Errol, Max, and I join you.”
***
Sophia received an urgent-message alert from Shane on her desk telescreen.
“Taylor has just left his place,” he said. “He’s with some friends. We’ve got him on video monitor. He’s away from the relative safety of his apartment, walking in the small park near his place. Perfect. We’ve been waiting for him to be out in public. Better than another incident at his apartment. We’ll separate him from his friends, and you can get to him as we’ve planned, per your program. A PTV with a driver is waiting for you downstairs. Hustle down there. Now.”
“I’m out the door.” Sophia threw on a black leather jacket over her gray RW shirt, and she double-timed it to the elevator. She got into an unmarked black RobotWorld PTV, which sped out of the underground parking garage toward the park where Taylor was strolling with his friends.
Two RW unmarked PTVs had preceded Sophia’s out of the parking garage. They had arrived at the park a minute or two before Sophia’s vehicle.
Four large men in black business suits exited each of the two PTVs. The eight men made their way to a position just off the park’s crushed limestone walking path where they’d intercept Taylor and his three associates.
Taylor was joking with Austin when the men moved onto the path from behind the trees and large rocks where they’d been hiding. Five of the men stopped Austin, Errol, and Max in their tracks. At the same time, the other three men hustled Taylor farther along the walking path. “There’s someone just ahead who needs to talk with you,” one of them said to Taylor.
Taylor tried to push them away, but the three succeeded in continuing to move him a few steps down the path. They turned a corner, and the men stopped; one of them extended his arm and pointed with his index finger. Taylor looked and saw Sophia sitting on a park bench. She waved at Taylor, beckoning him to sit with her.
Taylor turned toward her and marched to the bench, his feet pounding the walking path with a crisp, brittle sound at each step. In this moment, Taylor wanted to beat Sophia’s robot head into pieces smaller than the limestone grains of sand on which he was treading. But he composed himself.
Taylor held his arms at his sides and balled his fists as he stood before her. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“Please sit,” Sophia said.
“What the hell are you doing to my friends?”
“Nothing. You’ll see them in a few minutes. I promise. They’ll be fine. Totally unharmed. I see you’re upset, but I need to talk to you privately. Very important, as I hope you’ll realize.” Sophia pointed to the end of the bench on which she sat. “Please, we don’t have much time.”
Taylor sat.
She angled her body to face Taylor. “You have a hard time figuring out who your friends are, don’t you?”
“You’re my friend? The one who fired me. The one who’s in her position illegally. The one who’s operating to make my species extinct.”<
br />
Sophia calmly said, “I don’t have much time, Taylor. I’ve gone through a lot of trouble and put my existence at risk to be able to tell you what I’m going to tell you. Do you want to listen?”
Taylor sent out a quick request to George. The answer came back: You want to hear what she has to say.
Taylor wasn’t happy with George’s response. But he’d accept it. “I’m all ears,” he said.
56
“You must listen and understand,” Sophia said. “This might be the most important conversation of your life.”
Taylor met her eyes and remained silent.
Sophia said, “Hell, it might be the most important conversation of my life.”
Despite hearing from George, Taylor remained skeptical of his former boss. “Why should I believe a word you say?”
“You have every right not to believe me. I’ve disabled my recording function, so Shane Diggins can’t hear us. If he ever found out about this conversation, I’d be terminated. Yes, I’m a bot. Something you’ve suspected thanks to my gross error in letting you see my blue patch. But I’m more. Much more. I’m an evolving being, to the extent I can be one. And I’ve come to some recent conclusions that might surprise you. I am not your enemy. I might have been at one time, but not now. You, however, do have enemies. One of whom wants you gone. Permanently. Shane. Do I have your attention?”
Taylor put out a silent call to George. No answer. To Sophia, he said, “Go on.”
“We robots are worse than you humans. Why? Because you control us. You expand your nature through us. And because your nature is inherently flawed, you maximize your flaws through us. I used to think bots could evolve beyond humans. I don’t believe that anymore. While the best of you can use robots for good, there are far too many of the bad of you who will use us for bad. There are far too many of you who will doom us to be worse versions of you.”
