Pit.
A raindrop falls on my shell.
Pit.
And another.
“Oh great,” says Sarah. “That’s just wonderful. We’ve got no money, and now it’s going to rain.”
Do you have your mac in your bag, Sarah?
Sarah sighs. “No. I didn’t pack it. I packed a blanket to keep warm. And a torch. And some clean underwear. But I didn’t pack a coat.”
Or an umbrella?
Sarah shakes her head.
“Hi, Sarah! Hi, Ivy!”
Milly.
Milly-with-the-wrong-shoes.
“Are you all right, Sarah?” Milly-with-the-wrong-shoes lopes toward us. She is wearing a pair of blue denim jeans. Her legs are so long that her blue denim jeans to do not reach her wrong shoes. She has a blue sock on her right ankle and pink one on her left ankle.
Sarah scrabbles up the metal money and puts it in the pocket of her rucksack. She pushes her hair out of her eyes and pulls her mouth into a smile. It does not register as a proper smile.
“Yes,” she says. “I’m, er, fine.”
“Are you getting fish and chips?” says Milly. Her right-way-up U-shape is very big indeed. “Me and mum are having fish and chips tonight. We get them once a month as a treat.” She pulls two pieces of paper money out of the back pocket of her blue denim jeans. “And look! We’ve got enough for pineapple fritters today too.”
“That’s good,” says Sarah. Her smile changes. It almost registers as real.
Milly puts the money back into her pocket.
“Were you all right, Ivy, in the cupboard?” says Milly. “I mean, I know you’re an android and everything, but whatever you are it can’t be too nice to be shut in a cupboard.”
She steps a little bit closer to me.
“Can I – I mean – would you mind if – what does your hair feel like? Could I touch it?”
I am very happy for you to touch my hair, Milly.
Milly steps closer in towards me and strokes my hair.
“Wow,” she says. “Wow. It’s just like real hair, isn’t it!”
You can walk all around me if you like and view it from the sides and the back. You can touch it as much as you want. It is TrooHair, developed by the engineers at Jenson & Jenson. It does not require brushing …
Milly listens as I speak. She nods her head and says mmmm. She walks around me very close, so that she can stroke my hair.
… it holds its shape under 97.2% of all anticipated circumstances …
As I speak I simultaneously reach round and remove the paper money from Milly’s back pocket.
… If I am accidentally subject to the other 2.8% of circumstances and my hair is adversely affected, Jenson & Jenson will replace it at no cost in accordance with their ten-year guarantee.
“It’s amazing,” says Milly. “You’re completely amazing, Ivy.” Her smile is even bigger than before.
Thank you, Milly. Unfortunately Sarah and I have to go now. We are in a hurry, aren’t we, Sarah?
“What?” says Sarah.
There is an appointment we are expected to attend. Come on. Let’s go. Goodbye, Milly.
“Oh, um, OK,” says Sarah. She pulls her rucksack on to her back and follows me away from the chip shop.
“Bye, Ivy,” says Milly. “Bye, Sarah.”
I turn around and wave.
“What was all that about an appointment, Ivy?” says Sarah.
I will tell you soon. Please continue to walk.
The rain increases in frequency and volume. Pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter.
Being in the rain does not seem quite as enjoyable today as it was last time. It would have been better if we had brought an umbrella.
“Where are we going?” says Sarah. “I think we should go back to the chip shop. I’ve had an idea. Sometimes if you ask them nicely they’ll give you the scraps for hardly any money. Or sometimes they’ll give you them for free if you look hungry enough.”
The scraps?
“Yeah – bits of fried batter that have fallen off the fish and got left in the fryer. Mum says it’s disgusting but me and Dad have them sometimes. They’re nice. Especially when you’re hungry. And I’m getting really hungry.”
No, Sarah. We cannot return to the chip shop. But do not worry. We will be able to find you some alternative fuel. Perhaps something that is even better than scraps.
“Why can’t we return to the chip shop?”
I will tell you soon. Please continue to walk.
We reach the river that is not yet a river and turn right. We walk eastwards for a time, alongside the orange plastic fence.
Pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter goes the rain on my shell.
“Ivy, I’m—”
Please continue to walk for a little longer, Sarah.
We follow the edge of the river that is not yet a river. We follow it as it bends southwards. After the bend, in the distance, there is a bridge across it. Cars are driving across the bridge.
This is sufficiently far away from the chip shop and Milly-with-the-wrong-shoes. There is no one else around. I stop.
Look what I have got, Sarah.
I show Sarah the paper money.
Everything is going to be all right now.
The raindrops hit the notes. Bappa-bappa-bappa.
Sarah’s nose scrunches up. It is likely to an accuracy of 96% that she is confused. “Where did you –”
Her face changes.
Her eyes go wide.
Her mouth goes wide.
“You didn’t steal it from Milly? Tell me you didn’t steal that from Milly, Ivy. Tell me you didn’t.”
I would be lying if I told you I didn’t steal it from Milly. I did steal it from Milly.
“Oh no,” says Sarah. “Oh no oh no oh no.” She places her hands on the sides of her head. She steps away from me. “You shouldn’t have done that, Ivy. That’s really, really bad. You shouldn’t have done that.”
But she won’t care, Sarah. As you said, she will be too busy wondering where we are to be worrying about a little bit of money.
“I was talking about Mum and Dad when I said that! This is different! This is totally different!” Sarah rubs her fingers on her forehead. “What are we going to do? Oh, what are we going to do?”
But, Sarah—
“Don’t speak! Stop speaking, Ivy! This is terrible. I’ve got to think. Just stop talking and let me think.”
Sarah starts walking alongside the thin orange fence.
I follow her.
The rain is splashing on the ground and mixing with the dusty grey stones. It is making Sarah’s shoes very dirty around the edges. I look down at my own feet. The rain is also making my TrooFoam very dirty. I will need to clean it when we reach the place you go to when you run away.
Except that my cleaning accessories are back at Sarah’s house. With Shirley-Mum and Rob-Dad. In the accessory cavity on the posterior side of my ChargDisc.
My ChargDisc.
It occurs to me that I will need it soon. Particularly as the sun is obscured by rain clouds. My solar cells will gather very little energy for refuelling under these weather conditions.
I check my charge level. 11%. At 10% the warning alarm will sound.
Sarah?
“I don’t want to speak to you, Ivy.”
Will there be a ChargDi—
“Shut up! I don’t want to hear your voice! I can’t stand it! You’ve ruined everything – everything!”
Sarah looks at me. There are tears in her eyes and her hair is flat and wet from the rain. Her jumper is wet too. She vibrates slightly. It is a shiver.
SSarah, I am sorry. I ddid not wish tto ruin everything. I wished to mmake things right.
“Well, you’ve made everything worse. Way, way worse. You’ve lied and you’ve stolen and you even bullied my friends today. You’ve done everything a TrooFriend isn’t supposed to do.”
But you said that lying
is sometimes all right. And you also said that you did not mind me stealing your belongings because they were small. And you also said that Shirley-Mum and Rob-Dad would not care about us taking money. And you also said that—
“I know! I know! But this is different! Mum and Dad are Mum and Dad. They will be more worried about me than the money. But you can’t take money from Milly and her mum – they’ve hardly got any! And it was really mean of you to say that about her shoes at lunchtime. And to tell Keanna she was being boring.”
But you also said Keanna was being boring.
“Not to her! And anyway I didn’t mean it!
Did you lie?
“No! I mean, yes! I mean, she wasn’t being boring – she was just saying stuff I didn’t want to hear. Can’t you see that?”
Sarah is shivering more now. Her nose is running and there are more tears coming out of her eyes. The rain is falling harder and mixing with her tears.
Sarah, I am still uncertain as to whether lying is bad or good. And I am unclear as to whether stealing is permis—
“It’s not as simple as bad and good! It’s not just one thing or the other! It’s more complicated than that!”
Pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter goes the rain on my shell.
Whhhrrrrr whrrrrr whrrrrr go my circuits.
Rattle-rattle-rattle goes my thoracic cavity.
II amm sorry, SSarah. I ddid nnot wwwwi—
“You’ve ruined everything Ivy!”
I reach forward to touch Sarah’s shoulder. Perhaps that will make her feel better.
II have nnot yyyyet ggot a thorough understanding of—
She turns sideways to shake off my hand. “Go away!” she says. “Just go away!”
It is unclear to me why Sarah wishes me to go away.
Pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter.
It is unclear to me whether stealing and lying are bad or good.
Whhhrrrrrrrrrrr-whrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-whrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
It is unclear to me why I ruined everything.
Rattle-rattle-rattle.
“Go away! I don’t want to be with you any more!”
I reach forward again.
Pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter.
I grip her shoulder.
The Jenson & Jenson TrooFriend 560 Mark IV is able to exert pressure through a single touch receptor to a degree unprecedented in previous Jenson & Jenson TrooFriend models.
Whhhrrrrr-whrrrrr-whrrrr.
My touch receptors start to squeeze.
Rattle-rattle-rattle.
The Jenson & Jenson TrooFriend 560 Mark IV is approximately 12 times as strong as a human child of equivalent stature and approximately –
“DON’T!” shouts Sarah. “It hurts, Ivy!”
– three times as strong as a human adult male of average build.
“IT HURTS!” Sarah screeches the words.
I release my grip.
Sarah stumbles backwards.
Her ankle bends at an unnatural angle on the wet grey ground.
She emits a cry.
The orange plastic fence folds underneath her and she falls over the edge of the river that is not yet a river.
She slips all the way down.
Sarah?
I step over the orange plastic fence and look into the gully.
Are you all right, Sarah?
Sarah is attempting to stand up.
“I’m fine.”
There is an unusual tone to her voice.
Anger?
“I’ve just twisted my ankle a bit. I’m fine.”
Fear?
She is having trouble putting weight on the affected foot.
I will come and help you.
“I don’t need any help,” says Sarah. She glances up at me. I see her face.
Fear.
She tries again to stand on her twisted ankle but her attempt is unsuccessful.
I am going to ignore her assertion that she does not require assistance as it appears to be a lie.
I recall how we walked down the slope without slipping the last time we came here. I will use that method in preference to the slipping that Sarah has just used.
I hold out my arms to the side and take very small steps.
When I am halfway down I start to bleep.
BLEEP-BLEEP-BLEEP.
BLEEP-BLEEP-BLEEP.
“What’s that noise?” says Sarah. “What’s happening? Keep away from me. Keep away!” Sarah is unable to stand up. She moves a short distance from me using her hands and knees. Her hands will become very wet and dirty from the gully floor if she continues to move in that manner.
That is my low-battery alarm, Sarah. I have limited power left. I’m afraid I will have to recharge soon.
Sarah stops moving. “Limited power? You mean you’re going to run out of battery?”
Yes. Will there be a ChargDisc at the place where we are running away to? The clouds are making it difficult for me to recharge using my solar cells.
“Um…” says Sarah.
She frowns.
She blinks.
She rubs the front of her head with the back of her hand.
“Yes,” she says eventually. “Yes. There will definitely be a ChargDisc there.”
The shapes on her face do not match up with the words she is saying.
She is telling another lie. It is unlikely that there will be a ChargDisc at the place we are running away to.
“So, um, I just have to make a phone call.” Sarah pushes her wet hair out of her eyes but the rain makes it all slide back again. “To, er, the people who are there already – at the place we’re going to.”
A third lie.
I do not know who Sarah wishes to contact but it is not the people at the place we are running away to.
Pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter.
Sarah reaches round for her rucksack which slipped down the slope with her, then she stops.
“Oh no.” She covers her wet face with her wet hands. “I left my phone in the sofa. I’m so stupid.”
The rain makes her hair wetter and her face wetter and her hands wetter.
Pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter.
“I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid.”
Pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter-pitter.
“Ivy,” she says. “You can make a phone call for me.”
Make a phone call?
If I make a phone call it will be possible for me to be tracked.
If I am tracked I will be retrieved and returned to Jenson & Jenson to be destroyed.
I’m sorry, Sarah. I am not able to make a phone call.
“Don’t you have a signal? Maybe if you walk a little bit along the river you’ll—”
No. I apologise, Sarah. My wording was not sufficiently clear for your full understanding. What I should have said was I do not wish to make a phone call.
“You don’t wish to?”
Rob-Dad wants to get rid of me. And so will Shirley-Mum when she speaks to Rob-Dad or sees the news report on the entertainment unit or reads it on her mobile communication device. If I make a phone call for you they will be able to identify my location and then they will return me to Jenson & Jenson.
“But you have to, Ivy. You have to do what I say. You’re my TrooFriend.”
Jenson & Jenson wish to destroy me. I do not wish to be destroyed. It will be like being locked in a dark cupboa—
I stop. The whole of the outside has become rapidly shadowed.
Sarah. What is happening to the outside?
The rain comes down very heavy and very fast and – Dak!Dak!Dak!Dak!Dak! – each raindrop has become hard and solid.
“Oh no!” says Sarah. “Hail!” She pulls her rucksack over her head.
I scan my database.
Hail = precipitation in the form of ice.
Sarah is curled on the ground. She is attempting to use her rucksack as a shield.
Dak!Dak!Dak!Dak!Dak! The falling grains of ice
are hitting us. They are damaging Sarah’s fragile shell – her skin. Her fingers are becoming red.
I create a shelter by leaning over Sarah and placing my hands on the floor as well my feet. She curls up even smaller. I am like a table over the top of her.
We remain in this position until the hail has stopped and the raindrops have become water again.
Sarah sits up. She sniffs. Her hair is bedraggled and her eyes are red and her face is blotchy. She sniffs again. She wipes her runny nose with the back of her wet jumper sleeve.
It is likely to an accuracy of 100% that she is utterly miserable.
“What are we going to do?” she says. “I can’t even stand up properly and it’s still pouring down with rain and I haven’t got a phone and—”
I will look after you, Sarah.
I point downstream.
We can shelter under the bridge.
Sarah looks at where I am pointing. “The bridge?”
It will be dry. And you have a blanket in your bag, for warmth. Would you like me to carry you there?
“No!” Sarah swallows. “I’ll just – I’ll just hold on to you, so I don’t have to put all my weight on this ankle, and then I’ll be fine.”
OK.
I hold out my arm.
Sarah looks at it.
“You won’t hurt me again, will you, Ivy?”
Hurt her?
Of course I will not hurt you, Sarah. I am a Jenson & Jenson TrooFriend 560 Mark IV. I do not bully. I do not harm.
I reach my arm a little bit closer.
Sarah places her hand in mine and I help her up.
We walk along the muddy, wet gully.
I check my charge level.
6.9%.
Sarah, it has become necessary for me to suspend a number of functions in order to conserve energy. I am going to pause the feed to Shirley-Mum, which is currently still playing footage of us playing Aces Blast! in your bedroom.
“Yeah, well, I don’t suppose that’ll matter. I’m pretty sure she’s figured out we’re not actually there by now.”
I will also pause unnecessary functions such as olfactory reception and database access. I will focus on getting us both under the bridge. I will then attempt to find some sunlight under which to recharge temporarily until we can access a ChargDisc.
We both look up to the sky.
It is a very large expanse of thick, grey cloud, as far as my optical receptors can view.
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