Love and Robotics (78 page)

Gwyn stalked up the garden path, kicking a stick. Even Nanny was taking sides. The beebo in her pocket buzzed. She flipped it open. “Hello?”

“Hey, stranger.” Pip. She flushed to the roots of her hair.

“Hey. You’ve got to get me out of this madhouse. There’s bots everywhere.”

“Thought there might be. Wanna go on a fact findin’ mission?”

Gwyn arrived in Lux that afternoon, tethering in a lockup as Pip had instructed. She waited on a bench in Regency Park. An attractive woman pushing a pram gave her the once over.

              The evening was drawing in. What if people thought she was soliciting? Or somebody flashed at her? Nanny always said you should keep calm and say, “Sorry, not interested,” but it’d be different meeting one in the flesh.

A small woman sat beside her. Gwyn tried not to groan. Why, with a whole park of benches to choose from, did she pick this one? She was about to get up when she heard a familiar chuckle.

“Nice to see you too.”

She gaped stupidly. It was Pip as she had never seen her. She was wearing a smart black coat, twills, pumps. Most shockingly, her hair was light brown and her face fresh of makeup.

“I didn’t recognise you.”

“That’s the point. When people think ‘Pip’, they think cockatoo hair and a face full o’ slap.”

“I don’t think that," Gwyn said hastily. “So, what are we doing?”

“Helpin’ the unc. They haven’ imprisoned anyone in years, why now? Reck’n CER are up to somethin’.”

Gwyn couldn’t hold back a sigh. “Not more bots. They’re coming out of our ears at home.”

“Y’ did say. What’s goin’ on?”

As they navigated the poorly lit streets, Gwyn told her. How Josh and twenty odd arties had started a society for robot rights, the Artificial Emancipation Association. One had a human fiancée; she acted as their ambassador.

“They’re always bickering. That Hector thinks he’s in charge, while Josh - well, you know how stubborn he is. Cora Keel’s okay, but she’s such a diva! I’m surprised Nanny hasn’t told her to get stuffed.”

“Good for them. Hope they succeed.”

Gwyn was so startled she narrowly escaped being mown down. Pip pulled her to safety.

“You think they should?”

“Why not? If they think like us an’ love like us, they’re people. People are entitled to rights, last time I noticed.”

“But - do they, though?”

Pip’s voice was unusually sharp. “I’ve more proof of Josh’s feelin’s than many humans. Button it, we’re nearly there.”

The sight of CER always silenced them. For Pip it stood for the best job she was likely to have, snatched from her. For Gwyn it represented the day it was finished: Alfred, young and whole, carrying her on his shoulders; Gussy and Uncle Ken preening in the limelight; her father skulking like a panto villain. Even in the dark Pip saw her wipe her eyes.

“C’mon,” she said softly. “We’ve a buildin’ to raid.”

They went round the back and swiped Pip’s old pass. Gwyn expected an army of Daves to descend but everything seemed to be in order. She followed Pip down miles of mint carpet, the lights switching on as they went.

“What about the visicams?” she asked.

“Turned off. They’ve all got the same code. Aidy’s birthday, talk about crap.”

It was hard to reconcile her scatty, chatty Pip with the serious, assured woman who spoke so knowledgably about hacking and breaking into buildings. “You’re like a criminal mastermind!”

“Hardly.”

Their first stop was Josh’s control room. Gwyn had imagined an intricate cave of cogs and wires and felt let down when it was an ordinary room. Pip waved a hand over the control panel but nothing happened. “He destroyed the link, then. It was worth a try.”

They went up a flight of stairs and down a corridor lined with offices. Pip stopped before the biggest and tapped the keypad.

“Fisk’s more original but still easy.” Gwyn made out ‘vector’ over her shoulder. She knew it had something to do with maths, but unless it helped her fix engines she didn’t want to know.

Inside it was difficult not to cough. It hadn’t been aired out for a while. Pip drew in the dust with a gloved finger. “I don’ get it. She can’t’ve been sacked.”

“Alfred said something about her being signed off.”

“She loves her job. She’d live here if she could.”

Whatever the doctor’s intentions, her workspace and cupboards had been cleared out. Pip struggled not to swear.

“If anyone’s doin’ anythin’ dodgy, it’s her. Suggy’s too straight an’ Malik couldna care less.”

“What about Adrian?”

“Him? He’s jus’ a figurehead. No, Fisk’s our woman.”

Gwyn was starting to fret. She’d never done anything illegal, and the longer they stayed, the higher the chance of discovery. She didn’t believe there was a conspiracy. “If there’s nothing in Josh’s control room or here, shouldn’t we go?”

Pip’s face hardened. “There’s one more place.”

They ploughed down numerous flights of stairs, past the Pond. They had avoided lifts till now but Pip whispered, “Here goes,” and dragged Gwyn into what looked like a funnel. The door sealed shut and they dropped several fathoms. Gwyn clapped a hand over her mouth. Even Pip looked green.

“Shuggy’s stomach must be iron!” she said as they climbed out. She took a few deep breaths, waited for Gwyn to catch up, and addressed herself to the eye in the wall. She used a high, breathy Lux voice. “Mandy Cowan, taking a Dave for restoration.”

“Thank you, Ms Cowan. Allow me to perform the retina scan.”

Gwyn thought they were done for. While you can mimic someone’s voice, you can’t steal their face. She was astonished when it scanned Pip and said, “Thank you, Ms Cowan. Proceed.”

“How did you do that? And why did it let me in?”

“I copied Mandy’s retinas an’ made them into contact lenses,” Pip said calmly. “I wear ‘em anyway, so it dinna compute.”

“And me?”

“It thinks y’re a Dave.”

Gwyn continued to splutter. Yes, she was six foot two and hard faced, but it didn’t mean she could pass for a monstrosity with guns for arms. At last she registered the shelves of dormant functionals.

“What is this place?”

“-5. It’s where they keep the bots after hours. If y’ want somethin’ to back up y’ arguments, this is it.”

It  was like a cathedral where the dead were on display, held in suspended animation. Gwyn imagined the arties she had met - Josh, Cora - in a similar condition. It was horrifying. “Let’s get out of here,” she bleated.

Pip hadn’t heard. The ceiling plunged; they found themselves in a tunnel. Gwyn had to stoop while Pip strode through. There was very little light and even less air. All you could see were the silvery exoskeletons of the robots. Just as Gwyn feared they would be groping blindly forever, it opened out into a hollow.

If -5 had been all order, this was unholy chaos. The gutted parts of artificials and functionals lay in a great pit, thousands deep. Their eyes were open, accusing. One moved - Gwyn thought it was a trick of the light. As she looked again she saw it was no illusion. The eyes, hands, faces and bodies were sentient, moving. One hand plucked at her trouser leg. What she had mistaken for the hum of machinery was hundreds of mechanical voices speaking at once.

“Can you hear me? Are you there?”

“Mummy ... I want my mummy ...”

“I’m so cold ...”

“Help me ...”

Gwyn backed against the wall. “Why are these bots here? What’s going on?”

Tears coursed down Pip’s cheeks. “This must be the Robot Graveyard. It’s where they put bots they’ve squelched or reprogrammed.”

“Reprogrammed?”

“Of course, y’ can’t really reprogram them. Y’ can only restore them to factory settin’s and leave them to run down.” As another hand clutched at them, “This is barbaric.”

Gwyn’s knees buckled. She recalled the conversation she had had with Captain Lucy a few days ago.

“I know where Josh Foster is. I can give him to you.”

“Does Langton know you’re making this call, Ms Wilding?”

“It doesn’t matter. Humans come first.”

“Indeed they do. I’m glad one member of your family speaks sense. I knew your father - an excellent fellow -”

That should have tipped her off. Amazingly she’d ignored it. “He’ll be alright, though? You won’t hurt him?”

An indulgent laugh. “He’ll be fine. We only need to reprogram him and this nasty business can be swept under the carpet.”

This was the sentence she had given Josh. A lifetime trapped within a failing body, fully conscious. She wouldn’t wish it on her worst enemy. All he had done was be an artificial - which he couldn’t help - and make Alfred happy. Was that a crime?

She was sickened by what she had done. The instant they were out of here, she would call it off. She’d thought ‘reprogram’ was a case of flicking a switch -

She was so absorbed in her thoughts, she didn’t notice Pip had gone ahead. She heard her voice echo. “Look at this!”

She joined her at the farthest edge of the pit. Pip was staring into a handsome, vacant face. Its blue eyes rolled helplessly. “Hello? Anyone home?” it asked.

“I’m sure I’ve seen this one before,” Pip frowned. “Has he been on veebox? Some kind of presenter?”

Gwyn was transported back to a summer’s day, years ago. Fisk’s swine of a nephew tripping her. Grabbing Alfred’s hand as life was breathed into the perfect shell - its cheesy, staccato voice -

“Hello, Guy,” she said.

The two words had a galvanising effect. The shattered pieces of its mind flew together, it tried to raise itself from the pit. The other robots pulled him down.

Gwyn gripped his wrists and tugged. “Lend us a hand,” she ordered. Pip had no choice but to obey. She took hold of one arm, Gwyn another, and levered him out.

They gasped. The blue eyes and virile profile had remained, but the magnificent body was mangled beyond belief. The skin was blackened and peeling, rust showing through. His fingers and toes had fused. He struggled to take three steps. They barely caught him in time.

“Okay,” Pip said. “Now what? We can’t take him anywhere lookin’ like that.”

The artificial pointed to himself, then Gwyn. “I know you,” he said, voice filled with wonder. “Don’t tell me - I can guess -”

“Great. He remembers y’. What are we goin’ to
do
with him?”

Gwyn flared up. “May I remind you this was your idea? You were perfectly happy dishing dirt on Fisk -”

“I was doin’ that for a reason! To help y’ uncle, for fuck’s sake! Not rescuin’ any old knackered bot -”

“Please. He’s my last link to my mum.”

The sarcasm faded from Pip’s face. “I know someone who can fix him up,” she said. “She doesn’ live far.”

They dressed Guy in Gwyn’s greatcoat and escorted him from the building. Gwyn still listened for sirens but she was being paranoid. Pip had covered their tracks too well.

“Gods, he weighs a ton,” Gwyn muttered.

“Gettin’ a fly’d attract too much attention,” Pip said. “If anyone sees us - Good evenin’!”

Gwyn almost crashed into a lamppost. A police officer was walking towards them, eying Guy with concern. “Evenin’, ladies. Is your friend okay?”

Pip patted Guy on the shoulder. “His bachelor party. Went a bit OTT.”

“Where am I?” the artificial moaned.

Gwyn dug her nails into her palms. The cop grinned. “It’s only to be expected. Have a good one, you two.”

She looked appreciatively after Pip. Forgetting her burden, Gwyn nudged her in the ribs. “Oi! Standing right here!”

“So? What’s it got to do with y’?”

Of course it had nothing to do with her - they weren’t a couple. After the night’s events, she couldn’t help feeling as though they were. Before long they were strolling into a dated estate of starter homes.

“Here we are,” Pip announced. “Mandy Cowan, fixer extraordinaire.”

“I thought she worked at CER?”

“As soon as Aidy heard she’d helped Josh, she was out on her ear. There’ll be no one left soon. Good thing they haven’ updated the codes yet or we’d’ve been stuck.”

“What does she do now?”

“What do millions of unemployed do? Sign on. Get bitched at.” Pip pressed the doorbell of number 12.

“If she lives with someone they’ll dob us in -”

“She doesn’. Don’ worry.”

It’s funny how some people look exactly how you imagined them. Josh’s stories had created an image of someone bashful and gauche, mumsy before her time. Nothing standing in the doorway - big brown eyes, fluffy slippers, teddy bear pyjamas - contradicted that impression.

“Hello, Pip! What brings you here?”

“A mission of mercy. Can we come in?”

Mandy noticed Gwyn and looked apprehensive, but she still stepped aside. “Of course! I’ll get you a drink -”

They went through into a tiny, crowded living room. Every surface was covered with robot parts. The ‘drink’ was a frothy cup of coffee with cream and sugar, chocolate biscuits artistically arranged. Gwyn tucked into hers, ravenous. Pip perched on one of the armchairs. As Mandy set the tray of goodies down she saw Guy. Gwyn had draped him across the remaining chair.