“Dad, I’m fine,” Jackson protested. “We’re fine. Mostly. I’m just being strategic. But . . . why didn’t you tell me? Why did you keep so many secrets when we were both in danger, when . . .”
Dad peered at the cord still connecting him and Jackson.
“You downloaded my memories?” Dad asked, jerking back. The cord popped out of its socket, breaking the link between them. “You know . . . ?”
“Dad, I had to,” Jackson said, and he didn’t even sound defensive, just matter-of-fact. “It’s a long story, but I thought I was doing the right thing. Now I know everything you know. I know more, because a lot happened in the hour you were unconscious.”
Dad started to open his mouth, but Jackson didn’t wait for him to speak.
“That doesn’t mean I understand,” Jackson said. Now he sounded bitter. “You should have told me before, how the original humans wanted to phase out all robots. And that the restarted humans are supposed to completely replace us. And that that’s the biggest reason Ava and I are illegal, that’s the reason it’s wrong that we can grow and change, and—”
“I never thought you’d need to know!” Dad protested. “I always thought you two would be the best proof that robots and humans could coexist just fine! Forever! I always thought everything would work out in time. . . .”
Dad grimaced and peered out at the blinding snow. It seemed cruel to keep accusing him, but Jackson couldn’t help himself.
“You should have told me what you found out when you first stepped out of the nature preserve,” Jackson said. “When you reconnected with the robot network.”
“You mean that I heard an all-call,” Dad said, his voice flat and emotionless. He looked back at Jackson, his face blank. “An all-call for information pertaining to you, me, Ava, your mom, Denise, and Donald. But not Nick or Eryn.”
Jackson hadn’t thought about how the all-call list had omitted the human members of his family.
“Right,” he said. He leaned closer to his father, beseechingly. “And, Dad, you always told me that no robot could resist an all-call for information. You told me that if any other robot asked for information about a particular subject, and you knew anything at all about that subject, you had to respond.”
“That,” his father said faintly, “is the exact definition of an all-call. An all-call for our information . . . that’s the very thing we’ve feared most ever since you and Ava were born.”
“But somehow you managed to resist!” Jackson said, still stunned. Awe overcame the accusing tone in his voice. “You ignored the all-call when you were standing in the ditch, and the whole time we were driving to that store. And the whole time you were in the store. Why didn’t you just jump back into the nature preserve, the first hint you got that there might be an all-call? Why did you still go on to the store? How did you possibly resist a call that no robot can resist?”
He knew the answer. But somehow he still wanted to hear Dad say it.
“Because I love you,” Dad whispered. “You needed those parts from the store. And . . . if I’d answered that all-call, the authorities would have destroyed you. I had to resist.”
Jackson started shaking his head.
“Oh, Dad,” he moaned. “The problem is, I didn’t know why you’d shut yourself down. And . . . I blacked out and the cops caught us. And I ran away, but I’m sure they’re going to come looking for us. Eventually. We’ve got to find a better place for the whole family to hide.”
“The cops caught us?” Dad repeated numbly. He whipped his head side to side, as if he expected to see a bunch of men and women in uniform appearing out of the snow. “And they IDed me, and they still let you get away?”
“Oh,” Jackson said, jerking back and hitting his head against the rock. This was an element he hadn’t thought of. “Maybe they didn’t ID you. Because when they found us, we were in the nature preserve, where they couldn’t link to the network. And then when they carried you out of the woods, to put us in their car . . . I guess they weren’t paying attention? Because of the snow?”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Dad said. “Everyone linked to the network pays attention to the network all the time.”
“Well, then, those cops . . . uh . . . They did mention keeping secrets,” Jackson said. But he was as mystified as his father.
“But . . .” Dad seemed to be thinking hard.
“Dad, I don’t think there’s time to figure all this out,” Jackson said. “I think we need to go find the others. And hide.”
Stiffly, Dad started pushing himself up.
“Are you . . . feeling shaky?” Dad asked. “Do you need me to carry you?”
“No, Dad,” Jackson said. He knew everything his father knew, and that meant he knew exactly how much danger they were in. Jackson had to reveal his newest secret, if they had any hope of surviving. “I went through some . . . changes . . . while you were shut down. I think it’s best if I carry you. Want to climb onto my back?”
Dad shot him a puzzled look but wrapped his arms around Jackson’s neck. Jackson held on to Dad’s knees. A burst of nostalgia flared in Jackson’s brain, and he realized it was from one of Dad’s memories, not his own.
This piggyback style was exactly how Dad had carried Jackson when Jackson was little.
Jackson pushed the memory and the emotion aside and took off running at top speed out into the snow.
THIRTY-TWO
Eryn
“What if these aren’t a bunch of killer robots, ready to murder us all?” Nick asked. “What if these are just a bunch of . . . innocent kids?”
Eryn slumped, letting the rock column she was holding sag to the floor.
“How can we know?” she whispered. “I don’t want to kill—or destroy—anyone. But we have to protect ourselves. And we have to protect all the rest of the people in the world, all the human kids who are younger than us, who don’t even know there are robots passing themselves off as human. . . . What if we’re the only ones who can save humanity?”
“I think we probably are,” Nick whispered back. “But . . . what if we do something that ends up causing humanity to be destroyed all over again? And this time there’s no backup plan?”
Eryn winced. Why was this so hard? She felt tears threaten at her eyes, and she wasn’t sure if it was because she’d almost destroyed an innocent baby or because she still thought she might need to. Or because she maybe still wanted to?
Eryn didn’t let herself cry.
“Tell me any other possible reason for these rows of robot babies and kids to be here,” she challenged. “Why would anyone leave robots behind in this cave except as killers?”
“Maybe they’re . . . they’re robot kids who are going to be stand-ins for human kids,” Nick said. “Remember how everything worked with the plan for humanity to start up again? Remember how all the kids who are older than us are actually robots, and we never knew it?”
“Right—it’s kids older than us who are always the placeholders,” Eryn said. “We’re in the oldest group of the new generation of humanity. Michael told us about how the year we turned one, all the one-year-old robots were taken away and destroyed. The year we turned two, all the two-year-old robots were taken away and destroyed. And so on. Once there were human babies and toddlers and elementary school kids, no one needed placeholder robots of those ages. So there aren’t supposed to be any robot kids our age or younger ever again. That’s how the plan works.”
“Except, Michael and Brenda—and Mom and Dad—broke the rules by creating Ava and Jackson,” Nick said. “They’re the same age as us. They’ve grown up the same as us, instead of staying one age their whole life.” He gazed out at the rows and rows of robots. “Maybe lots of robot adults are breaking the rules and creating new children.”
Without even thinking about it, Eryn tightened her grip on the stone column.
“Innocent, nonkiller robot children, I mean,” Nick added quickly. “Maybe these kids were created just because . . . wel
l, you know how Michael explained Jackson and Ava. He said all the grown-ups were programmed to love being parents. So they wanted to raise kids who were robots like them, not just kids who were humans. Maybe there were other parents who did that too. And maybe those parents just haven’t figured out yet how to . . . bring their kids out of the cave yet. Into normal life.”
It seemed like Nick was trying to convince her that these were innocent and harmless robots in front of them. But every word he said made her see the rows of robots more and more like an army in the making. An army that could destroy humans.
“Nobody was supposed to know about this cave!” Eryn said. “We looked up the GPS coordinates and it said there was nothing here! How could so many people—so many robots—be storing kids here without anyone finding out? How could so many robots defy their programming? Remember how upset Michael got talking about how all the kid robots younger than us have been melted down for scrap? And how the thirteen-year-old robots are next? The robots couldn’t even defy their programming to stop that!”
Nick gasped. And then he threw himself at Eryn, and wrapped his arms around her.
“Eryn—you’re a genius!” he said. “Or . . . we are together. You just helped me figure out everything!”
“I did?” Eryn asked, pulling back. She shot her gaze back and forth between Nick and the rows of robots. “What did I say?”
“You said the robot parents couldn’t stop the robot kids younger than us from being melted down for scrap,” Nick said. “But what if they actually could? What if that’s who all of these robot babies and kids are? The ones who were supposed to be destroyed?”
THIRTY-THREE
Ava
Ava could hear Nick’s and Eryn’s voices ahead of her in the dark cave long before she could see them. She heard Nick say, “What if these aren’t a bunch of killer robots, ready to murder us all?” and she dared to ease up her pace a little. They weren’t doing anything rash; they were thinking and talking. Then she heard Eryn ask, “What if we’re the only ones who can save humanity?” and “Why would anyone leave robots behind in this cave except as killers?” and she started running her fastest once again.
Even at top speed, Ava tried to step as silently as possible—wouldn’t Nick and Eryn freak out even worse if they heard footsteps thundering toward them?
Ava was just entering the narrow part of the passageway when she heard Nick spring his theory about the robot babies and children being ones rescued from destruction, and she was so happy that she shouted out, “Yes, Nick! That’s exactly what they are!”
“Ava?” Eryn called. Just from her tone, Ava could picture how Eryn would be standing: staunchly, her back straight, her face rigid, as if any of that would help hide her terror.
Ava realized she shouldn’t have shouted from so far away.
Did Nick speak loudly enough that someone with normal ears could have heard him at this distance? she wondered. Will they think I’ve been lurking behind them all along, eavesdropping?
“Ava, where are you?” Nick called.
“Almost there!” Ava yelled back, trying to throw her voice to make it sound like she wasn’t so far away.
She sped through the rest of the passageway and came out into the vast open space with the rows and rows of cribs and kids. Eryn directed her flashlight beam straight at Ava’s face, temporarily blinding her.
“Ava?” Eryn called doubtfully. “Did you lose your flashlight? Did your batteries die?”
Oh no, Ava thought. She couldn’t remember where she’d left the flashlight. She hadn’t needed it, and she’d been in such a hurry. Was it back on the floor of the FOR ROBOT ACCESS ONLY room? With her backpack, which she’d also left behind?
“Lost it,” Ava said. Automatically, she patted the pockets of her coat. There was a solid lump inside that wasn’t mittens. “Oh, here it is. I mean . . .”
Eryn lowered her flashlight a little, and now Ava could see the skeptical squint plastered across her stepsister’s face. Nick held onto Eryn’s arm. His expression wasn’t exactly trusting either.
Ava sighed and made a quick decision.
“Actually,” she said, “Jackson and I both upgraded our eyes so they can work like night-vision goggles anytime we want. We . . . we got kind of bored sometimes when Mom was homeschooling us and we weren’t allowed to hang out with other kids. So that was something fun to play around with. We just . . . kept it secret so our parents wouldn’t get mad. Please don’t tell.”
Eryn’s face went even more rigid.
Ava pulled the flashlight from her pocket and held it out toward Nick.
“Here,” Ava said. “Now you can both have your own light. I, uh, I’m glad you two figured out who these robot kids are. I thought you might be afraid of them and do something . . . crazy.”
Nick took the flashlight from Ava and glanced quickly back at Eryn. Eryn pursed her lips.
I bet Eryn almost did do something crazy, Ava thought. I bet she would have, if Nick hadn’t stopped her. And . . . she still might.
“Jackson and I never knew the rules about younger robots being destroyed,” Ava said. It felt like she was chattering away again. But this was important. She had to make Nick and Eryn understand. “Mom and Dad always glossed over that part of the original humans’ plan. I . . . I’m glad I didn’t find out until I was in the FOR ROBOT ACCESS ONLY ROOM. And about two seconds later, I found out that the rules were always disobeyed.”
Nick shone his flashlight beam over the rows and rows of babies and kids.
“So none of the kids younger than us were ever destroyed?” he said. “Just . . . shut down and hidden?”
“That’s right,” Ava said. “Lida Mae’s ancestors changed the way the caretaker robots—our parents’ generation—were programmed.”
She saw Nick and Eryn dart their eyes at each other again.
“So your dad was lying when he told us about little-kid robots being killed?” Eryn asked. Her voice came out angry and harsh. “He made up that whole story to trick us, and make us sad, and get our sympathy, and—”
“No,” Ava said. “I mean, I don’t know exactly what Dad told you, but I’m sure he thought all the baby and little-kid robots were destroyed. And it’s not like it’s great for robots to be left in storage for years. Lida Mae’s ancestors couldn’t make too many changes in the programming, so they left people thinking that the rules were being followed. And then . . .”
“I don’t understand,” Nick said flatly. “I don’t think I understand robots at all.”
“Well, I didn’t either, until now,” Ava assured him. “Do you want to hear what else I learned back in that room?”
“Only if you tell us while we’re going after Mom and Dad, to rescue them from Lida Mae,” Eryn said. Her expression was still tight and unfriendly.
“Eryn, listen, Lida Mae’s not a danger to anyone,” Ava said. “She—”
“I’ll feel better if I can see that for myself,” Eryn said, interrupting. “If I can see Mom and Dad aren’t in danger.”
“Even if it means risking your own life in a blizzard?” Ava asked.
“Yes!” Eryn insisted.
“Eryn gets like this, sometimes,” Nick said, almost as if he were apologizing. “She’s stubborn.”
Ava gave him a look that she hoped he’d read as Can’t you talk sense into your sister? Even if Lida Mae were dangerous, she’d be more of a threat to Nick and Eryn than their parents. Couldn’t they see that? It was simple logic.
But then Nick added, “And . . . I’d like to make sure they’re okay too.”
Ava shrugged. Humans. What could you do?
“Come on, then,” she said, giving up. “I’ll show you the way.”
Neither of her stepsiblings said anything, but they followed her back into the narrow passageway, back to the main route out of the cave.
“Lida Mae and her family were built by innocent robots,” Ava told them as they threaded their way between the rock walls. “The type
of robots who never hurt anyone, but were . . . collateral damage when the humans and the killer robots started fighting. The only thing those robots wanted to do was work in factories, keep people’s houses clean—things that helped people.”
“But they changed their programming, right?” Eryn asked. “They weren’t helping humans when they did that!”
“Well, kind of . . .” Ava grimaced at Eryn’s surly tone. How could Ava make Eryn understand? “They definitely weren’t hurting anyone. They hid out in Mammoth Cave because they knew the human embryos were going to be stored here. The robots I’m talking about . . . if they’d wanted to destroy humanity, they could have done it then. A long time ago. When it was just them and the embryos, here in this cave.”
“They didn’t see the embryos as humans!” Eryn interrupted. “That’s why they didn’t kill us then!”
She kicked angrily at the ground, and pebbles went flying.
“You’re confusing things,” Ava said, trying to stay patient. “It’s true that the killer robots didn’t see the embryos as human. But the robots I’m talking about, the ones related to Lida Mae—they did understand. You can’t think of all robots as being exactly alike.”
Ava paused to let that sink in. She glanced back, but Nick and Eryn were both looking down, scowling at the small circles of light their flashlight beams made on the ground.
“The robots I’m talking about, they guarded you and all the other embryos from any killer robots who might have still been around,” Ava said. “They studied the instructions for the new robots that were going to be built to be parents and teachers for all the new humans, once they were born. And they made just a few tweaks in the programming, to make everything work better.”
“See!” Eryn exploded. “You’re telling us yourself that robots can change their programming to become anything they want! Even killers!”
Ava stopped in her tracks. To her, the news of the changed programming had been the most wondrous thing she’d heard in the FOR ROBOT ACCESS ONLY room. It meant little children weren’t destroyed, of course. But it also meant she wasn’t trapped as a robot; she wasn’t stuck thinking only the thoughts she’d been programmed to think, doing only the things she’d been programmed to do.
In Over Their Heads Page 13
