“Because we weren’t designed to ever disconnect from the network,” Brenda added. “That’s what we figured out, when all three of us started messing up.”
Ava bit her lip.
“But . . . the three of you seem fine now,” she said. She tilted her head, peering at her mother. “Did you reprogram everyone?”
“Nothing that permanent,” Brenda said. “Or noticeable. I just adapted our settings so we’re equally as comfortable with a network of three. Denise, Donald, and I are all linked now. We have full access to each other’s thoughts, memories, and knowledge, if we wish.”
“It’s incredible how strong and clear the link is when it’s just the three of us, not the entire robot network,” Dad marveled, shaking his head in awe. “It’s a more powerful bond. . . . I feel so much smarter now!”
Mom and Brenda beamed at him.
“I never appreciated how much there was to know about building!” Mom said, with more enthusiasm than she’d ever shown for anything that didn’t involve five-syllable psychology words. Was this why Mom was suddenly capable of stacking rocks without complaining? Because she was channeling Dad so intensely? “And I’m amazed at what a talented computer programmer Brenda is. I never knew. I could never pick out her individual genius in the midst of all the other computer programmers.”
This is a little . . . sick, Eryn thought. My mother is not only best friends with her husband’s ex-wife now, but they kind of . . . share a brain? With my dad, her ex-husband, too?
“You’re being too kind, Denise,” Brenda said, shaking back her long, curly red hair. “Of course we’ll loop Michael in to our network too, once he’s back. And for the first time in your lives, Ava, you and Jackson will be able to take part in a robotic mental link.”
Ava’s jaw dropped, and her eyes widened.
“You mean . . . ,” she began.
“Right,” Brenda said, with a broad smile. “We can bring you in, because no one else will ever know. Come here and I’ll make the necessary changes.” She reached for her daughter. “It will only take a minute and then . . .”
But Ava backed away from Brenda. She smashed against the wall.
“No,” Ava whispered. “No, I . . .”
“Ava?” Brenda said uncertainly. “I thought you’d be thrilled.”
“You can’t do this to me!” Ava screamed. “I won’t let you!”
And then she shoved open the door and ran away, out into the shrieking wind.
FOURTEEN
Nick
“Ava!” Brenda screamed, starting to chase after her daughter.
Something made Nick step forward and stop her. Some half-formed thought in his head.
Is it possible that . . .
“Why don’t you let me go after her?” he asked. “I know how Mom and Eryn get sometimes, arguing. . . . Ava might listen better to me right now.”
“Ava isn’t like that,” Brenda mumbled. “We don’t argue. We . . .”
But she didn’t rush for the door again, so Nick took that as permission. He squeezed out the door after Ava.
Eryn came after him.
“Should I come too?” she asked doubtfully, hanging half in and half out of the shed. Eryn wasn’t the type to ever be doubtful. Maybe she wasn’t falling apart like some malfunctioning robot, but the past few days had taken a toll on her, too.
“We probably shouldn’t look like we’re ganging up on her,” Nick admitted.
He really wanted to add, So why don’t you go deal with Ava, and I’ll stay in the nice, warm shed? Where the grown-ups will make all the decisions?
“I think she likes you better than me anyhow,” Eryn said, retreating back into the shed and letting the door shut behind her.
What did I just get myself into? he wondered.
The wind screamed in his ears, and the hood of his coat blew over his face. He tugged it back into place. In just the few moments that Nick had lingered talking to Brenda and Eryn, Ava had gotten halfway down the slope toward the entrance to Mammoth Cave.
At least she’s smart enough to head for shelter, instead of running deeper into the woods, Nick thought, starting after her.
“Ava, wait!” he called.
Ava didn’t turn around. If anything, she began scrambling down the hill even faster.
Maybe she can’t even hear me with all this wind, Nick thought, fighting his way forward. He had to walk sideways to keep from being knocked over. Well, I’ll just wait to talk to her once we’re in the cave. It’s not like she’ll go too far in. She doesn’t even have a flashlight. Or a jar of . . . what did she call them? “Bioluminescent cave creatures”?
Ava reached the entrance to the cave, jumped over the chains strung across it, and disappeared into the darkness. A few moments later Nick reached the chains too. He slowed down and climbed over the chains more carefully. He peered into the darkness ahead.
“Ava?” he called, a little spooked that she was already so far ahead of him that he couldn’t see her. Not until his eyes adjusted to the darkness, anyway. “I’m not here to make you go back and do what your mom says. I just want to talk.”
Right, because I am so good at talking to girls, Nick thought.
He reminded himself that this wasn’t just any girl. Ava was his stepsister. So this was practically like talking to Eryn.
Except that Eryn, as his twin, had been around him since before they were even born.
And Eryn, like him, was human. They understood each other, because they were so much alike.
He sighed.
“Ava, please,” he called. “Wouldn’t you rather talk to me than have the adults come running after you? That’s what they’re going to do, if we don’t go back to the shed soon. Because, you know, they’re the most overprotective parents on the planet?”
Ava stepped out of the shadows.
“And I’m one of the most endangered kids on the planet,” she said bitterly. “Me and Jackson both. So we get double doses of overprotection.”
“That’s probably not the right way to look at . . . uh . . .” Nick stopped, because something hit him. Maybe Ava—and Jackson—didn’t even know what had happened to all the legal robot children who’d been twelve or under, and what would ultimately happen to all robot kids once Nick and Eryn and the other kids their age grew up. The younger ones had already all been destroyed; the older ones were going to be. Because as Nick and Eryn’s generation grew up and then eventually grew old, the goal was for there to ultimately be nothing but humans left.
And that was even if Nick and Eryn didn’t follow the instructions on the papers he had right now in his upper coat pocket. Every robot in the world was slated for destruction eventually—the paper just urged Nick and Eryn to do that immediately.
It was something Nick himself tried not to think about. And now was really not the time to dwell on it.
“I am not letting Mom link me into their little network,” Ava said fiercely. Nick was used to Eryn being fierce, but this was scary coming from Ava, with her big eyes and her innocent air. “Would you want your parents to have access to every thought you’ve ever had? To know everything you’ve ever done? To be able to see, minute by minute, everything you’re thinking and doing?”
“That’s what agreeing to that link would mean?” Nick asked. “No kid would want that! Is your Mom crazy, to think—”
“She’s a typical robot,” Ava said bitterly. “She doesn’t understand.”
Nick remembered he was supposed to talk Ava into going back to the shed. Into not hating her mother.
“But isn’t there something about how robots can keep some things private?” he asked. “Off-limits to the rest of their network? Isn’t that how your mom and dad—and everyone working with them, like my parents—managed to keep you and Jackson secret for the past twelve years?”
“Yeah, but when it’s my own parents, do you think they would respect my right to privacy?” Ava asked. It was jarring to hear her soft voice sound so resentful. “Wh
en they feel like they created Jackson and me, when they programmed us, when they see us as their little experiments, to tinker with however they want . . . ?”
In the dim light of the cave, Nick saw Ava’s eyes dart to the side, almost as if she was afraid he would be able to read her mind too.
And, suddenly, he thought he could.
“You have something you want to keep secret,” he said. “Something you really, really, really don’t want your parents to know.”
The idea that had propelled him out the shed door, to run after Ava, began to take shape in his mind. It had only been half-formed before, but now he was certain it was right. And he was so sick of secrets and suspicions and distrust.
With shaking hands, he pulled the zipper of his coat halfway down so he could reach into the pocket tucked away inside. He pulled out the thick wad of papers, folded in half and then halved again—the papers he’d been carrying around all day, the ones he and Eryn had found in the secret room the night before.
“Is this what you don’t want your parents to know about?” he asked, holding the papers out to Ava.
FIFTEEN
Ava
“No,” Ava whispered. “No. I mean . . . maybe?”
What was she supposed to say? How much did he know?
Nick jerked his hand back, and started stuffing the papers back into his coat.
“Never mind,” he said. “I don’t know what I was thinking—I thought maybe I’d trick you—I play pranks like that on Eryn all the time. . . . These are nothing. . . . They’re all blank. . . .”
Ava saw that he’d left himself an out. That he’d pulled out those terrifying papers thinking he would be able to laugh everything off and pretend he was just playing a prank, if she didn’t respond the right way.
If she really didn’t know what they were.
“Nick, stop it,” Ava said impatiently. “I did see those papers last night before you hid them away—Jackson and I both did. Pretending they don’t exist isn’t going to help anyone. I know what they say: ‘Our own robots were the ones who destroyed us. You must destroy your robots before they destroy you.’ ”
It was so hard just speaking those words. She mentally checked herself for signs that she might immediately collapse: Light-headedness? Dizziness? Racing pulse?
Oddly, she felt okay. Just a little anxious. But she’d felt that way constantly for the past several months, ever since Dad and Mom explained that she and Jackson had to be homeschooled because it was too dangerous for them be around other kids. Around normal kids. Around humans.
Nick pulled the papers back out, unfolded them, looked closely at the top sheet, and then dropped his hand.
“You . . . you memorized that?” he asked, his tone wavering between horror and awe.
“I’m a robot,” Ava said, the bitterness back in her voice. “Memorizing’s easy. It’s not like I did it on purpose.”
Nick started riffling through the pages.
“Did you memorize all of it?” he asked.
Ava wondered if there was any value in lying. She decided it would take too much effort. And . . . it seemed like he was being honest with her now. So lying to him would be wrong.
“No, so don’t start quizzing me or anything,” she said. “I only saw the top page before you hid it all. I don’t have X-ray vision. Not that X-ray vision would even work—it wouldn’t let me see through one page to see what’s on the next one down. They almost always depict that wrong in cartoons and superhero movies. . . .”
It was so much easier to babble about X-ray vision and cartoons and superheroes than the fact that the papers Nick was holding told him he was supposed to kill her.
Or just “destroy” me, she corrected herself.
The slightly nicer word didn’t help at all.
“Did . . . did any of the grown-ups see these papers?” Nick asked. “Have all you robots just been pretending since last night . . . waiting to see what Eryn and I are going to do . . . ?”
“There’s no way the grown-ups saw the papers,” Ava said, like she was comforting him. “You hid them so fast. And all our parents were behind Jackson and me, walking into that room. We’re younger and faster and our eyes . . . work a little better.”
There. That got the issue of the illegally enhanced vision out of the way without Nick even noticing. He was staring down at the papers in his hands as if they were all that mattered.
“Besides,” Ava added, “don’t you think that if any of the adults had seen those papers, they would have said something immediately?”
Nick’s face relaxed, as if he knew Ava was right.
“Why didn’t you tell your parents right away?” Nick asked, glancing back at her. “Why didn’t you narc?”
Should Ava bat her eyes and murmur, Because I knew from the very beginning that you wouldn’t actually follow those instructions? Should she lull him into a false sense of security by emphasizing how much she trusted him and Eryn—when she really didn’t? Should she make herself look stronger and more decisive than she really was?
Ava let out a sigh. She swallowed hard.
“The truth?” she said. “Until now, I couldn’t even think about those papers without feeling like I was going to fall apart and crash to the ground, just like Jackson. I’m pretty sure that’s why he blacked out too. So it was like we couldn’t tell anyone. We wouldn’t be able to get the words out without collapsing.”
“You’re not collapsing now,” Nick said. He made it sound like a brilliant observation.
Okay, maybe it is a brilliant observation, Ava thought. Why don’t I feel dizzy and queasy and out of control? Those papers are about someone wanting to kill me. About my life ending. About my own stepbrother and stepsister doing me in.
She almost giggled at her own brain offering the phrase “doing me in.”
Except for that, though, she didn’t exactly feel happy thinking those thoughts. She didn’t feel like skipping through fields of flowers and gazing at rainbows and wishing for unicorns to come out and play. But she didn’t feel like passing out, either.
“I think . . . I think it’s because I don’t believe anymore that those papers are going to lead to anyone killing me,” Ava said slowly. “Maybe it’s just because you and Eryn haven’t tried to kill me yet, so I don’t think you’re going to. Maybe I’ve realized that I could fend you off, if I had to. And I really don’t think you’re going to show those papers to any . . . hired assassins.”
She tried to flash a sarcastic grin at him. It was the kind of thing Eryn was really good at, but Ava’s face muscles didn’t work the same way. She had a feeling she just looked tentative. Pitiful.
Pitiable.
“Eryn and I agreed last night, we aren’t going to follow those instructions,” Nick said. “We don’t want to destroy anyone. Or anything. But don’t you see? If it’s true that robots destroyed humanity the last time around, we have to do something to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“I’m not the type of robot who wants to destroy anyone,” Ava said, blinking in a way that she knew made her look sweet and innocent. “I wasn’t designed or programmed for that. Can’t we work together, to make sure that everyone’s safe? Robots and humans?”
“Yes,” Nick said. “Yes. That’s what I want.”
Ava felt a pang of guilt. Should she have admitted how much she and Jackson had altered themselves from their original design, their original programming?
Should she have mentioned that she and Jackson didn’t always agree?
SIXTEEN
Jackson
Jackson slid into the driver’s seat of the van. He started to fasten his seat belt, then changed his mind. First he climbed back to the row of seats where he’d been hiding, picked up the blanket he’d hidden under, folded it into a neat square, and positioned it on the seat cushion beneath the steering wheel. Then he sat down again.
There, he told himself. Now I look taller.
Keeping his winter coat on made him
look bigger and bulkier. He couldn’t make his face look any older right now, but if everything went well, nobody would get close enough to get a good look at his face.
“Okay, Dad,” he said aloud. “I hope that HOW TO DRIVE file didn’t leave out anything important. I hope you transmitted it all before you collapsed.”
He’d carefully laid his dad’s body across the seat behind him, where Jackson could keep an eye on him but nobody outside would be able to see him without looking closely.
Dad didn’t move. He gave no sign that he’d heard, no sign that he was anything but an inanimate object.
Jackson had never seen any robot shut down so thoroughly. He’d never been to one of the “funerals” that occurred occasionally, the fake proceedings that the robots who ran the world enacted every now and then to get human children used to the notion that death was a part of life. He’d never had a pet—Dad and Mom had always said their family’s life was complicated enough already—so he’d never been eased into the notion of death by watching a beloved dog or cat fade away.
On the contrary, Mom and Dad had always acted like they expected Jackson and Ava to be able to live forever. And like Mom and Dad might live forever too.
Dad’s not dead, Jackson reminded himself. This is temporary. He trusts me to get him back to the nature preserve. And then everything will be fine.
Jackson blinked a couple of times—just to make sure he was seeing straight! Not because any excess moisture might have started pooling in his eyes! Not because he was in any danger of shorting out any circuits! He clicked his seat belt together, pressed his foot on the brake, put his finger on the start button, and shifted into gear.
“See? It’s easy,” he said out loud. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
He eased his foot off the brake and pressed the accelerator. The van lurched forward, jerked suddenly to a stop, and lurched again.
Okay, that’s why there was that bit about applying steady pressure, Jackson thought. I can do that.
In Over Their Heads Page 7
