I Heart Robot (24 page)

“Let’s sit down and talk about this. Tea, Miles.” She pads from the kitchen into the lounge. I settle opposite her.

“Why are you so intent on knowing about your father now?” Mom gets straight to the point.

“Because … ” I’m not sure how to word this. Mom kept secrets from me, but I don’t want to hurt her. Half of my DNA is hers after all.

“Because I want to know who I am. Maybe my father was like me.”

“Like you?” She raises a single eyebrow.

“Into music, not great at school, you know. Maybe he played violin.”

“Oh sweetheart.” Mom chuckles softly. “A propensity for music might be genetic, but I don’t know anything about the man beyond the nature of his alleles.”

Miles enters and leaves two steaming cups of peppermint tea on the table before loping back to the kitchen.

“I looked up birth records. There’s no Tyri Matzen listed.”

“Clerical error, I’m sure.” Mom says it too quickly, her lips puckering and forehead creasing.

“Somehow I doubt that. Was my dad really an anonymous sperm donor or … was he a one night stand you don’t want me to know about?” I meant to word it more gently.

Mom takes a moment to absorb my insult and then smiles.

“No, Tyri. You’re not the progeny of random intercourse.”

If I was the outcome of a night of passion, I think I’d feel better. It would prove Mom had a heart, and that I had a father who shared more with my mom than just his genome.

“I want to know more about my dad. Don’t they have profiles or something like that available? Personality traits, favorite color, whether he liked sports or books?”

“I’ll look into it.” Mom folds her hands in her lap, which usually means the matter is settled. “No more breaking into my study, okay?”

“I didn’t. Miles has a key.”

“He most certainly does not.”

“He does. He did this swivel thing with his hand, and his index finger became a key.”

Mom’s eyes widen as she leans forward to whisper, “Are you one hundred percent sure?”

“Yeah, I saw it.” I whisper back as understanding kicks in. If Mom didn’t know Miles had a key that means he shouldn’t have one period.

“Tyri, don’t forget you’ve got that extra English lesson with Asrid this evening. You’re going to be late if you don’t get moving. Now,” Mom says and beckons me over to the bookcase out of sight of the kitchen. “Don’t waste time packing.” She whispers. “Take this. Call Asrid and get out of here.” She slips her moby into my pocket not knowing I’ve got my own.

“What’s going on?” I whisper.

“I’ll explain later. But you need to leave.”

“Why and what about you?” Chills march up and down my spine. I try giving her back the moby.

“Please, Tyri. Do as you’re told, just this once.” The look on Mom’s face silences all argument. I nod and try not to run to the door. Glitch pads up the hallway. I snatch her up and start dialing Asrid while Mom watches me from the lounge.

“Hey, Sassa, I completely forgot we had a study night.”

“What are you talking about, T?”

“Sorry I’m running late. Any chance we could meet somewhere closer?”

Asrid’s a quick study. “You in trouble?”

“Yes.”

“I’m on my way. Where are you?”

“Corner of Bondegatan and Griffelvagen.” I’m lucky it’s Monday, and Asrid isn’t in dance class.

“Be there in ten.”

“Bye Mom.” There’s a quaver in my voice. Mom nods to me and mouths ‘go’ when I hesitate at the door.

Mom will be fine, I tell myself as Glitch and I scurry down the street away from the malicious housebot. Mom works for M-Tech. She knows how to deal with a rebellious robot.

What if she’s not okay? I could call the police. I should, but something makes me hesitate before dialing 112. I scan through Mom’s contacts and dial M-Tech instead.

“Maria, have you reached a decision about our darling little prototype?” Adolf Hoeg’s voice is syrup. Prototype? The virus. Something to worry about later.

“It’s Tyri. I think Mom’s in trouble.”

“Explain.” He doesn’t sound impressed.

“Something’s up with Miles, um, our housebot. He got into Mom’s study, but he shouldn’t have a key. Mom got me out the house, but I don’t know what’s happening and … ” And I think I’m going to hyperventilate or throw up, probably both.

“We’ll handle this. You’re a good girl, Tyri.” He gives me a verbal pat on the head.

I swallow the rising bile. “Will you let me know when Mom’s safe?”

He promises he will and hangs up, leaving me alone with my heart beating
incalzando
until the drumming inside my ears is all I can hear.

My eyes peel open, dry and unfocused. A face hovers above me, featureless and unrecognizable. My ears ring, and there’s a throbbing deep within my skull.

“Welcome back,” Kit says. He hooks his hands under my armpits and hauls me into a sitting position, propping me against the wall of the container. I can’t talk yet, repair protocols taking priority over human operations. The interior of the container condenses into a single pinprick point of light as my system reboots. I blink and moisture coats my eyes. My shoulder burns as nanytes fight their way through viscous Cruor to repair the damage. Kit’s face swims into focus.

“Cruor.” My voice is a whisper. Kit hands me an open can, and I pour the contents down my throat.

“Feeling better?” He rocks back on his heels, grinning.

“Not yet.”

“See, Quinny, the Solidarity takes care of its own.” He tousles my hair as my toes twitch back into operation. Fresh Cruor lubricates my joints, and I’m able to move on my own.

“They’ll be back. Thought they could sell me.”

“Pretty boy like you, I’m not surprised.” His fingers brush hair from my face.

“You shouldn’t stay here. Next time they won’t be so gentle.” He pokes a finger through the scorched hole in my sweater.

“I won’t.” There’s nothing left in the container except dried puddles of Cruor. Where’s my violin?

“You can stay with me.”

“I owe you enough already.”

“Who’s keeping score?” He grins. “Miles mentioned you were at the Matzen house today. Said he helped you.”

“Miles the housebot?”

“A housebot with upgraded capabilities.”

Anger stirs briefly in my core, vanishing before I can latch onto it.

“What do you mean, upgraded abilities?”

“The Solidarity connects via the Botnet with any robot, droid or not. They’ve been slowly upgrading those with the processors capable of handling it.”

“They’re giving mundane robots android intelligence?” If the humans weren’t aware of the Solidarity and its activities before, they will be once their housebots start demonstrating analytical thought processes.

“They’re recruiting for the cause.” Kit grins. “It was Lex’s idea.”

“So that march turned riot, that was always part of the plan?”

“Yeah.” At least Kit has the decency to look guilty.

“And Sal’s death was what? Collateral damage in your great scheme for world domination?”

“She knew the risks.” Kit meets my gaze, his dark eyes lost in shadow.

“She was Solidarity too?”

“Used her connections in the corporate world to get us information.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were the new kid in the ghetto, all pro-human and soft. We didn’t trust you not to go blabbing about us to the apes.”

My world turns to cinders.

“Then why did she encourage me to join the BPO?”

“To keep you occupied while we made the necessary arrangements.”

“You’re starting a war.” A myriad of emotions simmers in my core.

“That’s the plan.” Kit grins. He looks like a macabre clown with glowing white teeth.

“It won’t work.”

“And why not?” Kit takes a menacing step forward.

Should I tell him about my suspicions regarding Tyri and the virus hiding in her code waiting for activation? If Sal was merely collateral damage, then Kit would have no qualms about destroying Tyri. He’d rip her circuits apart if it meant stopping the virus. Does she even have circuits? She breathes and bleeds. It’s incredible, humans playing gods. And what about me? I might already be infected. Would Kit even hesitate before destroying me for the greater robotic good?

“Thank the Solidarity for the fuel and Cruor,” I say.

“You owe me, Quinn. You owe
us
.” He grabs my shoulder. “What do you know?”

“Nothing.”

“Really? Then I guess you won’t mind me tossing your violin into the Baltic.”

I jerk away from him.

“Where’s my violin?”

“It’s safe. For now.” He folds his arms. “Consider it an insurance policy. Tell us what we want to know, and you’ll get that hunk of splinters back.”

Anger sizzles through my circuits. Is Kit so lacking in integrity that he’d blackmail a friend? Are we even friends anymore?

“I don’t know anything.”

“I’ll tell Tyri what you are,” he says. His threats hurt more than I would’ve thought possible. Do human beings do this to each other, or is this kind of betrayal unique to androids?

“Be my guest.” Tyri knowing what I am hardly matters considering what she might be. Of course, if she isn’t the prototype and discovers I’m an android—that doesn’t bear thinking about. She’s all I’ve got left.

“Interesting.” He narrows his eyes and studies my face. “What aren’t you telling me, Quinny?”

“Nothing. Give me my violin, and I’ll keep looking.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” He chuckles.

“I won’t help you start a war.” Or kill a girl I only suspect of being the prototype.

“It’s already started.”

Kit opens and closes his fists. The look in his eye says he’s thinking about punching a hole in my head.

“Have something for me before the weekend, and maybe I won’t turn your precious instrument into toothpicks.” He stomps off into the night, leaving me alone in the dark.

Hopeless as it is, I search the dock for my violin and find nothing but shadow. I check my pockets, but they’re empty. The Z-class droids took everything.

I have nowhere to go, no home. Home—the word is devoid of meaning. All I’ve got is Tyri. Just because she let me kiss her once doesn’t mean she’d welcome me bedraggled and homeless on her doorstep.

It’s freezing as I stalk away from the docks. The wind whipping foam off the waves douses me in icy brine. The droids took my coat, but at least they left my boots. I skulk through the shadows toward the warm glow of oil-drum fires. The blanket girl roasts a handful of nuts in a dented saucepan over the flames. She smiles and waves me over. Before I join the city’s rejects, I pause to message Tyri.

The cursor blinks in my iris, waiting for me to decide my fate.

Hi Tyri. We should meet. Tomorrow evening at the sushi place? 18H00?

–Message sent

How am I going to tell her I don’t think she’s human? She won’t believe me anyway.

Asrid lets me stay sequestered in her room away from her brothers and their incessant questions. Glitch didn’t appreciate their attention—or the cat’s—and keeps me company, curled up on my feet as I chase a housebot’s casserole concoction around the plate. Asrid brought me dinner on a tray. She’s eating downstairs with the family; the one household rule she doesn’t rebel against.

My moby tinkles. No word from Mom yet, only a message from Quinn. It’s short, not very sweet, but to the point. I reply with a brief ‘see you there.’ I’ve got enough problems of my own right now without worrying about Quinn’s.

The moby still in my hand, I wage war with myself over whether or not to contact Rurik. We might not be together any more, but we’re still friends, right? I text him, keeping it simple to not cause too much alarm. I’m about to hit send when I hit clear instead.

Asrid breezes in and shuts the door behind her. “Not hungry?”

“Not really.”

“It wasn’t very good anyway. Three has problems comprehending salt to spice ratios.”

“Three?”

“Housebot number three. He needs a cooking upgrade.”

I swallow hard and place the tray on the floor.

“Botspit! I shouldn’t be talking about robots at all. Any news?”

“Not yet.”

“Wonder what’s going on. Weird that your mom freaked out.”

She settles beside me and loops an arm around my shoulders.

“Must all be connected, the riot, M-Tech.” The way Miles has been behaving lately.

“Probably not a big deal.” She tries to reassure me with a hug.

“Quinn texted,” I say when we pull apart.

“And?”

“He wants to meet. Tomorrow evening at that sushi place.”

“I spoke to Dad over dinner about it. He says he’ll help if he can, but if there’s any truth to it, he’s obligated by law to report it. Quinn’s a minor right?”

“Don’t know. He might be eighteen.”

“Dad’ll take care of things. In the mean time, you should call him.”

“Quinn?”

Asrid rolls her eyes. “Rurik.”

“We broke up, remember?”

“Yeah, and I also remember you two being inseparable since forever. He’s still your best friend.”

“You’re my best friend.”

“We’ve never made out. It doesn’t count.”

“Sassa!”

“Call him.” She picks up my moby from the folds of the duvet and starts dialing Rurik’s number. “Here,” she holds it out to me. “It’s ringing. I’m going to take a shower.” Asrid sashays out of her bedroom and throws me a parting wink.

“Hey, Rik. Got a minute?” I ask when he answers.

“Didn’t expect to hear from you.”

“Can we talk?”

“Actually, now isn’t—”

“Please, Rik.”

He sighs, the sound of footsteps on wooden floors and the soft click of a door closing. “Sure, what’s up?”

“It’s … ” Where do I even start? “You were right.”

“About?”

“Everything.” My voice cracks.

“T, are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” I take a deep breath and try to focus.

“But you were right about robots. Miles—I don’t know how exactly or why even, but he had a key to my mom’s study. Mom had an apoplexy and sent me to Asrid’s. Said she’d deal with it, with Miles. Something’s going on, and all I know is that it’s big.” My words rush like a river charging over rapids.