by Kenneth Buff
For the Game and the Skill
Dick stared out the window of his company-rented cabin. The snow was coming down in thin sprinkles. He wrapped the blanket around him tighter, and pressed the picture of the tomato on the soup dispenser.
It was Mark Crumble, the head of the transport department, that insisted Dick take advantage of the three-day weekend. As a rule, Dick didn’t take vacations; he’d rather get the forty-five-thousand-credit bonus at the end of the year than take a few days off. But after the account draining at the wedding, Mark decided it was time Dick took that break. Transporting was his job, and Mark didn’t want Dick feeling that a failure to apprehend a criminal reflected poorly on him. Miracle Grocer officials cared about their employees—that’s why they were providing Dick with a company cabin on Surez.
Dick sipped the soup from the plastic cup, and looked out at the mountains past the snow.
The table beneath him began to glow as the eight o’clock ad began, “Good Morning, Richard Shannon. We hope you’re enjoying your stay at Miraculous Point. Don’t miss out on all the great activities available to you at no extra charge. Click your preferred adventure to learn more.”
“God dammit,” Dick looked under the table for the display’s power source, but couldn’t find it. The table was built into the wall.
Dick sat up in his chair and looked at the available adventures: spelunking, discus, rock climbing, snowboarding, skiing. He stopped reading. None of them interested him. He just wanted to stay in his room where it was warm.
“Sir,” Henry said, standing in the corner at the charging station.
“I believe you would benefit from embarking on one of the provided adventures.”
“They’re not adventures if they’re provided.”
“That is a debatable statement. While the definition of adventures does include an element of surprise, an adventure provided by another does not completely remove that element.”
“Of course it removes that element! It’s all planned!”
“Only the activity is planned, sir; the events will unfold naturally.”
Dick wriggled under his blanket. “When did you become a philosopher?”
“I do not consider myself a philosopher, sir, though I have read many texts on the subject.”
“Great,” Dick said, sipping his soup. “Save me the review.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dick looked at the robot’s face, his expression unchanging—stiff and metallic—but despite this, Dick found his words difficult to ignore.
Dick stood from the table, his blanket still wrapped around him. “I’m going to head down to the kitchen, see what they have for dessert.”
“Would you like me to accompany you, sir?” Henry asked, still standing in the charging center.
“Dick tilted his head, thinking. “Yes, Henry, I would.”
Henry stepped away from the charging pad and followed Dick from the cabin through the connecting glass hallway.
“You know, Henry, not all humans want adventure on their vacations. Some of us just want to relax.”
“That is accurate,” Henry stated.
Dick stopped walking and turned to the robot. “If you know that’s accurate, then why are you trying to get me to go on a resort adventure? Do you think I want adventure?”
“No, sir,” Henry said. “I have estimated that you are most likely to prefer quiet solitude to social or individual excitement in seven out of ten of the most common human scenarios, but it is part of my programming to look past what you may most want and determine what you most need. You have only taken forty-six steps today, it is 1:05 p.m., and your body would benefit from additional exercise.”
Dick laughed. “You’re afraid I’m getting out of shape?”
“Your lean muscle mass has decreased by 2 percent since our last transport. I predict that without exercise, this rate of muscular degeneration will increase exponentially.”
Dick’s face was tense. He turned from Henry and continued walking down the glass hallway, paying no attention to the men and women skiing below. “Henry, I’ve told you before not to tell me things like that. It’s depressing.”
“You have never told me to refrain from providing you with health information.”
“No,” Dick said, “but I have said to lay off the depressing numbers. Giving me a percentage of the muscle I’ve lost in a week falls under that.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” the robot said, “but I am confused. You have also told me to always be honest when giving you data that relates to a life-and-death situation. I believed you referred to it as, ‘sugar coating,’ though I’m not sure I understand the idiom.”
“It means you’re making something shitty seem better than it really is. And me losing a little bit of muscle isn’t going to kill me, is it, Henry?”
“Well, sir, it is possible that it could.”
“Really, Henry?” Dick said, turning around to show the robot his surprise. “Do you really think I would let my muscles go that far? What do you honestly calculate that at?”
“The number is too small to be considered a realistic possibility; however, that is not what I was alluding to.”
“All right, tell me then, what were you alluding to?”
“I merely meant that it is possible that if your muscles continued to degenerate you could find yourself in a situation where your physical ability would not be adept enough to overcome the danger.”
“Oh,” Dick said. He stared at Henry for a moment and then turned and continued down the hall.
The door to the kitchen slid open as the scanner confirmed the density of Dick’s left eye.
Dick walked through the crowded cafeteria, and made his way to the counter. He had a seat on a bar stool, his blanket still draped around his shoulders.
The server looked over at him. “What can I get you, man?”
“What kind of ice creams do you have?”
The server smiled. “Let me grab you a menu.” The man placed his thumb on the counter, and a display appeared. He pressed another button, and the names of the ice cream flavors displayed. “We have thirty-two different flavors, but our most popular, by far, is Planetary Chocolate. It’s made right here, on Surez, from our local chocolate farms.”
“Sounds pretty good,” Dick said.
“It’s amazing,” the server said.
A shriek echoed through the room as darkness absorbed them all.
“Power’s out,” the server said, his voice calm, contrasting eerily with the screams.
“Looks like it,” Dick turned his head toward the rustling sounds coming from the crowd. Squinting his eyes, he tried to make out figures in the dark. He saw nothing. “Henry!” he shouted.
Dick stood from the bar stool, he stumbled down the step as he slipped on the blanket. “Henry! Where are you, buddy? Talk to me!”
Dick shielded his eyes as the power kicked back on. The murmuring of the crowd was briefly muffled by the humming of refrigerators.
“My purse. Jack, someone took my purse!” an old woman shouted. The woman overturned plates and tossed paper cups to the floor as she franticly searched.
Her husband put his arms around her shoulders. “Shh…Margerie, I’m sure it’s fine. Are you sure you didn’t leave it in the room?”
“I’m sure!”
Jack’s head turned from his wife as another man shouted, “My wallet’s gone!”
“Mine too!” said another man.
Soon the room was flooded with the sound of panic.
Dick watched as their emotions turned from shock to anger.
“Fuck!”
Dick turned back to the server. The man was patting his pants. “You too?”
“Yes. I had my month’s pay in there. I don’t believe in banks. Fuck, man! It’s my wife’s birthday next week.”
Dick quickly brought his hand to his back pocket. He pulled out his wallet. Relief filled his face.
“Didn’t get yours,” the server said.
&nbs
p; “Guess not.” Dick returned the wallet to his pocket and watched as a man in a sleek bubble coat gained control over the crowd.
“Now quiet down, quiet down. It looks like all of us are missing something, is that right?” The crowd nodded and the quiet murmurs grew to a roar.
“Let’s try this,” the bubble coat man said. “Raise your hand if you’re not missing something.”
Dick watched as the eyes of the crowd swept over one another. No hands were raised.
“No one?” the man asked again.
“Well, I think it’s safe to say—”
“Wait!” the server shouted. “He’s not missing anything!” He was pointing his finger at Dick.
Dick’s eyes peered to the man behind the counter. The look he gave was one of betrayal. The server mouthed to Dick the word, “Sorry.”
“That true?” the man in the bubble jacket asked. “You still have your wallet?”
“Yeah,” Dick said, “I do.”
“Do you mind if I see it?”
“Yeah,” Dick said, not hiding his anger. “I mind.”
“Okay,” the man said. “That’s fine. I doubt a guy wrapped in a bed sheet could have pulled this off anyway.”
“Maybe that’s what he wants us to think!” a voice shouted.
“Yeah!” came another.
Sweat was beginning to drip down Dick’s forehead. He was too afraid of how it would look to wipe it away.
“Quiet down, quiet down,” the bubble coat man said, waving his arms in the air like he was calming a group of children. “This man didn’t do this.” The crowd went silent. Dick felt his breathing stop. “At least not alone. No man could have.”
“It was a woman!” someone screamed.
“No,” said the bubble coat man, “it was a robot.” Gasps arose from the crowd. “A robot working with a man, maybe a woman, but it couldn’t have been doing this alone. A robot lacks the need for money. A man lacks the skill.”
The server walked around his counter. “Hey, man, what’s your name?”
Dick looked at the server, his face still cold. “Dick.”
“Nice to meet you, Dick. I’m Copper. What do you do for a living, Dick?”
“I’m a transport captain.”
“That pay very well?”
Dick squirmed a little under the blanket. “Not really.”
Copper nodded. “Didn’t you come in here with a robot?”
The sweat was pouring off of him now. “Yes,” he said. “I should probably go find him.” Dick began to walk toward the outdoor exit.
“Hey, not so fast!” Copper shouted. The crowd turned their attention from the bubble coat man to Copper. “He’s running to his robot!”
The murmurs exploded into a roar. Pushing past one another, the crowd raced toward Dick.
Dick turned to look behind him. It was a mistake. He saw their eyes—all of them were full of hate.
He ran.
The blanket flew from his shoulders, landing on the tile floor behind him. The door slammed shut as his bare feet pressed against the frozen earth. The snow came up to his ankles, soaking his pajamas.
“Henry!” he shouted into falling snow. “Henry! Where the fuck are you!”
Dick ran from the resort cabins, cutting across an empty mountain path.
He heard the cries of angry men and women behind him. They lessened as he gained distance on the field, and then suddenly they stopped. He turned around to see them. They weren’t moving.
“What’s he doing?” a woman asked, standing behind the bubble coat man.
“I don’t think he knows what he’s running through.”
Dick stared at them, and they stared back.
“What the hell?”
Then he heard the sound of snow compacting and the wind swooshing by as something heavy pushed through.
A black bobsled flew past him, just inches from his feet. He caught the eye of a young girl. She waved at him as the sled continued its journey down the mountain. Dick turned back toward the resort cabins, and another sled flew past him, this one a few feet from him. He could feel the frost sliding down his face as the sled slid by.
Dick wiped the snow from his eyes and looked up the mountain. He couldn’t make out any trees, just black squares. They grew larger with every passing second.
“Shit.”
Dick dug his toes into the ground and kicked off hard, running in the opposite direction of the cabins.
“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.”
He ran through a track just seconds before a sled came down. He kept running, missing two more sleds before he could blink. Dick didn’t look up to see how far the line of sleds was from him. He just kept running.
He felt his knee crack as he banged it against the back of a sled, sending him spinning to the ground. He looked up to see a mother learning over the back of the sled, her mouth hanging open.
He heard sleds rushing by, and knew he only had seconds to clear the track before another one would come rushing down.
He grabbed his thigh with both hands, trying to bring his leg up.
“Ah!” Tears rolled down his cheeks as the shooting pain pushed his voice from his throat.
He turned his head toward the top of the mountain, but he couldn’t see anything. This only frightened him more.
In a panic, Dick dug his hands into the snow, prying them into the frozen soil. He lifted his body.
“Ah!” He bit his lip, chewing on the flesh. He dragged his broken leg off the track. As soon as he cleared it, his body collapsed. He let go of the fear of another sled coming; he let exhaustion take its hold.
He moved his head to the side. Laughter burst from him when he read the sign there: Do Not Enter. Bobsled Adventure in Session. He laughed so hard his leg shook against the ground, sending pain shooting through his body. The tears slid into his mouth as he began to cry.
He closed his eyes.
Dick could hear the voices screaming. They were calling him a thief. They floated over him, demanding he be held accountable. He barely felt the sting of the needle in his left leg, and then his eyes opened wide.
“Stay back! Stay back!” a paramedic said, her arms outstretched.
“Are you all right, Mr. Shannon?” a male paramedic asked, still holding the needle.
“I feel better,” Dick said.
“Good. My name is Timora, I’m a paramedic for the Planet of Surez. Do you think you feel good enough to stand?”
Dick moved his leg from side to side; there was no pain. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Good, then let’s get you back to your room.”
Timora helped Dick to his feet and showed him to the ambulance.
“You can’t let him get away!” a man shouted. “This is bullshit!”
The female paramedic instructed them to go about their day and entered the vehicle. It headed toward the cabins.
Dick slid his hands over the smooth plastic interior, warming his skin on it. “Thank you. You saved my life.”
“It’s what we do,” the woman said.
Dick didn’t say anything after that. He laid his head against the window, resting it on the glass.
His breath was fogging the view, but he could still make out the crowd in the distance. They were chasing after them. “Stupid bas—” he didn’t finish. He saw Henry standing at the exit door.
“Stop the car.”
“What?” Timora asked.
“I said stop the car!”
Timora hit the brakes.
Dick slid the door open and ran barefoot through the snow. His harvest bot had a thin layer of snowflakes accumulating on his arms. He was not alone.
“Henry! You bastard! Where the hell have you been!?” Dick couldn’t hold back the smile on his face.
“I was catching the thief.” In front of Henry a man in a business suit sat on his knees. Henry held him there by his shoulders.
“So you’re the asshole who stole everybody’s money?” Dick said to th
e man. “I got a bum leg because of you.”
The man looked up at Dick. “You look fine,” he said coldly.
“Thanks, guy. This really isn’t the right time for flattery. I’m just going to ignore your blatant flirtation, and instead I’m going to ask you how you did it.”
“Technically, sir, he did not do it.”
“What?” Dick said. “Who did, then?”
“I did, sir.”
Dick let out a gasp. “What’d you just say, Henry?”
“I did, sir,” the robot repeated.
“No, Henry, I know what you said, I just—”
“Sir, you asked what was it that I just said.”
“I know I did. Just tell me why, Henry.”
“Yes, sir. This man is Thomas Malcolm. He is a well-known criminal with outstanding warrants in twenty countries across five planets. His criminal specialty is computer hacking. In the past he has used this skill to manipulate the costs of company stocks, as well as several other crimes. Today he planned to use it on me.
“Upon entering the cafeteria this morning, Thomas approached me from behind and attached a code injector to my mid quadrant. The machine attempted to override my system settings, giving full control to the installed software and to Thomas’s voice commands. The software worked as it was designed to for 3.42 seconds, before being overridden by MG’s latest firmware update.
“The injection was not a problem. But I saw the code, and knew what Thomas planned to do; however, I did not know what he looked like or where he planned to escape. Therefore, I saw it to be of the best interests of the Surez guests that I follow through with Thomas’s plan until a moment of capture presented itself.”
“I see you found that moment,” Dick said.
“Yes, sir. Almost immediately, but I could not find you or the other guests to present the information.”
Dick smirked, “Yeah, we went out for a little run. The only thing I don’t get, Henry, is how did he know we were going to come down at that exact time?”
“He has not said, and I have not asked. But if I were to conjecture, I would say that he did not know, and that he simply waited until we arrived.”
Dick looked down at the man. His greying hair was covered in a thin layer of snow.
“Is that true? Did you just wait for us?”
The man smiled. “I may have expedited the process.”
“What does that mean?”
“Can I ask you a question, Captain Shannon?”
“I guess.”
“Did you enjoy your bobsled adventure?”
Dick’s eyebrows arched over his face. “How the hell do you know about that?”
The man laughed at the question.
“You went on an adventure, sir?” Henry asked.
“Yeah, I did, and it almost killed me. Do me a favor, Henry, get this wacko away from me.”
“I cannot move him, sir, I am awaiting the arrival of the police.”
“Fine,” Dick said. “I’ll go.”
The man was laughing louder now.
“Henry, can we get a cash refund if we check out early?”
“Given the circumstances, I’m sure it could be arranged.”
“Good,” Dick said. “Use the money to fuel Transport 1. Let me know when it’s done so we can get out of here.”
“Sir, you wish to end your vacation early?”
“Yes, Henry, I do.”
“But, sir, what of your physical well-being?”
“Trust me, Henry, I got enough of a workout today to last me a week.”
“That is excellent news, sir.”
Dick opened the door and walked through the empty cafeteria, the sound of the man’s laughter echoing behind him.