Robot Awareness: Special Edition

by B. C. Kowalski

  MaBrown twirled his stylus for a moment, then he stopped. "I have to write it."

  "I know you do."

  "But then what?" MaBrown asked. "What happens after I write it? Go into hiding?"

  Taylin leaned back. "I've got a better idea."

  ***

  "Malvers," said a familiar, and unwelcome voice. Malvers bolted upright, daring to look to his right as he stood on the platform a few steps away from his small vessel, the means of his exile from Farven Point, and his escape from the reaches of Company C. A cold chill washed from his head back down his spine. So close.

  "Now... I've done what you asked," Malvers stammered. "It was beyond my control. That pesky reporter MaBrown..."

  "MaBrown will be dealt with!" the man with no face hissed. Malvers felt his knees buckle under his own weight.

  He steeled himself as much as he could. The man stared at him, eyes — whatever he perceived the world with — piercing through him. He immediately felt the mesmerizing pull of the man's face, the pull of the void. He shook his head, breaking the spell.

  "Listen. Just focus on me, OK? My family has nothing to do this. They know nothing about any of this."

  "We'll decide what they know," the man said.

  "Please..."

  "Who told you that you could quit?" he bellowed.

  Malvers said nothing. He thought about his family. He felt an overwhelming sense of guilt.

  "Alright, just get it over with," he said with all the false bravado he could muster. "Just make it quick." He almost sounded confident, straightening his lapels and squaring himself in front of the man with no face.

  "You dare order me?!" the man shouted. There was silence as the pit in Malvers' stomach grew larger and sharper. "Fine. Have it your way."

  "I think not," said another voice. Malvers had closed his eyes to meet his fate, but looked up to see not the after life, but a familiar face. "It turns out, I don't care for your way."

  "Kenpur?" Malvers gasped. His heart skipped a beat in surprise.

  "I thought I warned you about what company to keep?"

  The man with no face craned his neck to the side. He tried to move, but stood paralyzed as Malvers watched in amazement. Kenpur had his fist in the one weak point the man had. Few know about it, let alone could get the drop on him. He didn't doubt who it was who had a thumb right on the pressure point below his neck.

  "So you're still around?" the man hissed.

  "More or less."

  "You don't know what you're messing with." The man jolted in pain as Kenpur dug his thumb further into the pressure point.

  "Neither do you."

  Malvers watched the two in amazement. He got the sense he was seeing the surface of something, the depths of which he couldn't understand. It looked like Kenpur just had a thumb on the man's chest. Would they fight?

  "Nice try," Kenpur said. "You know I have the position. You're mine."

  "Touch me and he dies."

  Kenpur's face barely changed — a light cloud washed over his face and was gone. Malvers missed it completely but the man knew he'd hit his mark.

  The two were silent for a spell. Malvers wasn't sure who he was talking about.

  "Fine. Go."

  Kenpur pushed off with his fist, the man stumbled forward, then briefly looked around at both of them. With a flash he suddenly disappeared, leaving Malvers gaping at Kenpur. Kenpur walked over to him.

  Malvers straightened himself up, regaining his composure. “Good sir, I owe you my life."

  "It's not saved yet." Malvers watched him as Kenpur stared off into the space the man with no face had just occupied.

  "You need to leave. Now. Just like you were planning. Don't come back for awhile."

  "What will you folks do? Surely you're not planning to stick around here. Company C reinforcements are likely to matriculate."

  "We're heading to the Inner Circle. I suggest you head in the opposite direction."

  "The Inner — well, I certainly agree, opposite direction sounds prudent."

  Malvers looked at his space ship, then looked back to Kenpur to ask him something else. But he was gone.

  "How exactly do they do that?" He muttered, shaking his head as he ascended the small steps toward the spaceship's door.

  ***

  "Come on, Isellia!" Joey shouted, bouncing up and down where he stood..

  "Isellia is unable to hear you at this distance." The robot stood next to Joey, imitating his hand gestures as he cheered.

  "Robot, where have you been?"

  “Farven Point."

  Joey was too excited about the race to pay much heed to the robot’s unhelpfully literal answer. The floating images of XR racers through the center of the viewing room transfixed him, as their holo images lit across his face. At times Joey forgot he was looking at simple light illusions — it was as if he could reach out and grab one of them.

  "That's right, get 'em, Isellia!" A man shouted next to him.

  Joey looked over at him. "You're a fan too?"

  "I will be if she takes first. I'll be set for awhile!"

  Joey looked at Porter.

  "The odds were pretty against her, Joey. She's not exactly a favorite to win."

  "Oh. So why did he bet for her?'

  "Cause, little bucky, that means if she does win, the payout will be bonkers. I'll have so much money I won't know what to do with it all!" Joey looked up at the tall, rotund man with a bushy black mustache that covered his mouth. Joey had heard him bellowing with each moment of action in the race, but Joey had been so mesmerized that he barely registered it.

  He shrugged. One more person rooting for Isellia couldn't be a bad thing, he thought.

  ***

  Last chance. She was nearly nose-to-nose with Veda. She saw the last eddy before the end of the ring and knew what she was going to do. She could hold her position and play it safe, and would be assured a spot in the Grand de Lix. Against all odds.

  But she knew full well that was never an option she even remotely considered. When the time was right, Isellia would strike.

  As they approached the final stretch, Isellia vented her exhaust, letting it spill into the eddy. No visible sign of the gas could be seen, but she knew it was there. Wait for it, she thought. A little more. Just a little farther.

  There! She felt a slight tug and knew she was at the sweet spot. She punched her engines to full throttle, igniting the exhaust and sending a roaring current behind her, blasting her forward. She flew past Veda, her mouth agape because only moments ago the veteran racer seemed to be pulling away from Isellia.

  Then it was Isellia’s turn to be shocked. A second explosion ignited, hitting her at an indirect angle. It sent her spinning toward Allister. She hit Barkley's ship, her wing clipped his, and she continued spinning. Barkley spun off course, but she continued spinning toward the finish line.

  In her spin, she saw Veda cruise comfortably around her and continue toward the finish. She desperately wrestled with the controls as she tried to right the ship; Chipper cruised past to her right. Barkley still veered away from the finish line, well off course of the final ring. There was nothing between them and the finish line. But the main pack was behind and would be closing in soon. Sweat poured off her temples, her head tingled with anger as she saw the first two pass through the rings and saw others behind her making up ground. She cursed every bad word she could think of and several more she invented as she saw the explosion of confetti signaling the first place victory.

  ***

  --- “This is an unbelievable, Brill!”

  -- “Veda just overtook Isellia and crossed the finish line, confetti everywhere, as Antoinette and Barkley continue to spin out of control. Antoinette's headed for the finish line, she’s going to cross even if she doesn’t right her XR, but how many racers will pass her?”

  --- “Chipper is coming up on her, it looks like — yep, I think he’s going to overtake her.”

  --- “I’m not sure what Antoine
tte was thinking. She probably could have had a comfortable second.”

  --- “Well, it looked like Isellia went for the win, Brill. Why? Why do you go for the win when you're about to place, you're heading toward the finish, a Grand de Lix spot is in sight.”

  --- “We can only guess, Jeft, that she wanted that top spot. Maybe it's her personality, we don't know. Some of these racers, they just have their sights set on that No. 1 position, and no one can talk them out of it.”

  --- “Veda's got to be happy about this turn of events, as she heads into the stadium for the ceremonial finish. Chipper Jones in second, not a bad day for him, is it?”

  --- “Indeed, it is. He'll be happy with that turn of events. And what have we here? It looks like Barkley has righted his craft and is flying home. He still has some gas in the tank, he’s gonna scoot into that third place position, erasing any hope that Antoinette that she’d make the podium today.”

  --- “Now he won't be happy about that little crash, since he had a reasonable chance at No. 1 or No. 2.”

  --- “We'll have to wait until the post-race interviews. But meanwhile, Isellia's still spinning, and she's close to the finish, but the pack is closing in. They're in sight, getting — oh my, I think they're about to pass her!”

  --- “Well this is going to be a disappointment for Isellia today. She had a place in her sights, and it looks like it’s about to — wait, she's got it! She managed to right the ship, and I think she has a little bit of power! Enough to give her a little boost toward the finish, but the pack is behind her, and — I'm not sure, it was neck and neck!”

  --- “It’s going to be a photo finish for fourth, I’m not sure what happened, it was all so fast. I know she was close, I think she may have gotten it. “

  --- “She just recovered in time, let’s take a look at the replay.”

  --- “Yep, look at that, as the screen advances frame by frame, it looks like Isellia just crawled in front of Canwald, who did pretty well for himself to get to the front of the chasing pack her.”

  --- “Well, it’s not the Cinderella story we imagined, but we're certainly impressed nonetheless.”

  --- “The main pack is coming in now, here are the results as you see them on the screen. Well, we’re going to cut away for a moment, but we'll be back with the official results and post-race interviews next, at the Farven Point 400! Don't go away!”

  Chapter 37

  The man to Joey's right cursed loudly, slamming down the crumpled program he'd been clutching so tightly it twisted between his fingers. The race day program was one of the few things still printed on paper, and many saved them as collector’s items. Others lived in the moment of the race, the bet, the score; such as the man next to Joey who was pacing and running his fingers through his stringy black hair. Joey considered buying one with the small amount of allowance he received on the ship, until he saw how much they cost.

  "What happened?" Joey asked Porter, ignoring the tantrum going on next to him. "Did she qualify?"

  "It's a photo finish," Porter said. He was calm now, but had been rubbing his fingers over his scalp nervously as Isellia closed in on the finish line.

  The man to Joey's right continued pacing, biting his fingernails. He stopped, grabbing the rails in front of the enormous holoscreen as if catching himself from passing out.

  Then he turned to Joey. "She coulda still made it, right? I mean, it was a photo finish, you said so. Right? Right?" He looked back and forth from Joey to Porter desperately, as if one of them would have the answer.

  Joey shrugged, then saw ships outside the window, in real life, emerging as the background in the holo at the center of the room began to look familiar. "Hey, they're coming in!"

  Veda cruised her ship down to the base, as people rushed out of the air-conditioned, holovision viewing centers to greet her. Cheers erupted and grew louder as she docked her ship. Security forces on hover carts set a perimeter around her landing pad, making sure they didn't get so close they would get singed by her afterburners.

  From the terminal's window they could see her ship cruise through the stadium, flying past roaring fans who’d largely abandoned the holoscreens to take to the stands once again, as the ship made a loud and high-pitched roar that echoed throughout the base. Even from inside the terminal it struck a cord inside Joey, sending goosebumps of excitement down his spine.

  Joey started outside, too — pulled by the excitement of the roaring engines — followed by Porter and the robot. They hung back — they had no reason to rush up to Veda. They were waiting for Isellia.

  Each ship had a Farven Point security force escorting them in, in the order in which they placed. They would only do this for the top ten.

  "I think we'll know by what order they come down what place Isellia got," Joey said. He rushed out to get a closer look, but Porter caught him and held him back.

  "Just hang around here," Porter said. "Better to stay back from the crowd. We can watch from here, and we'll go to her ship when she comes down. I know you're excited, but be patient."

  Joey’s eyes scanned the sky as they stood next to a set of bleachers, watching for any sign of her XR breaking the lightly orange horizon.

  The second-place and third-place ships came down with their escorts. A mixture of hope and worry gripped Joey. Never in his life had he felt something as exciting as this race had been. He felt the roar of the audience in his stomach, and in his heart, an emotion not like any he'd experienced.

  After the third ship, there was nothing. A cloud of ships could be seen on the horizon, but none came down. Joey’s fingers fidgeted nervously on a railing next to the stands, lightly tapping the metal with a click.

  "They must be sorting it out," Porter muttered.

  "Well I hope they finish it soon," said the betting man. He’d apparently followed them outside, still holding his crumpled program.

  Porter looked at him angrily, then calmed himself. "I hope so too," he muttered. The man was starting to bother him. People who couldn’t see past their own nose always did.

  "Isellia has placed fourth," the robot declared.

  "Fourth, are you sure?" Joey asked.

  The betting man looked at the robot, as if noticing it for the first time. "You serious, there, Mr. Metal?”

  "Affirmative."

  The man started jumping up and down, crumpling his program into nearly a ball. "Hot Tarmany! I'm rich! I'm rich! Ha ha! Oh man, I can buy anything!" He started shaking Joey excitedly, and Porter was about to grab him when he let Joey go and started skipping away toward the betting window to collect his earnings.

  "Ha ha, rich, rich, rich Ha ha, not as rich as first, but still rich, Wahhhaaaahaaa!"

  Porter shook his head. "Idiot."

  ***

  Isellia was quiet, brooding in her cockpit. The fourth-place finisher was getting ready to cruise into the stadium. Her turn would be after that, as the fifth-place finisher. She would qualify for a spot in the Grand de Lix. She should have been happy, and later she would be — but Isellia didn't enter races to take fifth.

  Isellia's stomach clenched as patrol ships signaled her to enter the stadium. She didn't want to go down. She should be in third place — no, she should have been in first. She wanted more than anything to wipe that smug grin off of Veda's face. She wanted to waltz past her, reveling in the shocked look on Veda's face as she walked to the podium.

  No, she didn't want to fly into the stadium. She thought about their faces — the crew she worked alongside every day, who had her back, whose backs she had. How could she face them in her failure?

  Meanwhile, Rex was still missing, and here she was flying in some spaceship race. They put off looking for him so she could, what, take fifth?

  Two security ships closed in from either side of her, leading out in front indicating that she was to follow. She took a slow, measured breath and let it out again. She slowly accelerated, matching their speed.

  The flight seemed to go on forever, and then the
re she was hovering into the stadium. She flicked off the sound filters, and the roar of the stadium shook her. They were cheering her. Cheering her failure. But she couldn’t help but feel a pang of emotion at the sound. She never heard it before, because she’d never finished a race. But this time she crossed the finish line.

  Then she saw them. God, they were watching. She slightly adjusted her cruising speed as she approached the stadium. Her eyes went wide in amazement as she saw Porter, Joey, bolt bucket, even Stephen. They weren't watching. They seemed to be arguing about something, discussing something vigorously. Joey and Porter's attention seemed to be aimed at the robot, then the robot pointed behind them. They turned and started jumping and cheering, acting like she’d taken first with time to spare. Her face turned red. Feelings of embarrassment, pride, joy, anger — all of it washed over her as she watched her crew beside themselves with excitement to see her come into the stadium. Just like on the ship, they were in her corner. They had her back.

  She couldn’t stop the tears from running down her cheek as she landed the ship.

  ***

  Joey was overcome with emotion in a way he never experienced when he saw Isellia's ship fly into the stadium, touching down on the landing pad. He felt the roar of her engines bore into his chest as her ship screamed in a crescendo, landing on the LZ. His usual reservation disappeared, as he started jumping up and down. Others in the crowd cheered, but none like Joey and the rest of the crew. He turned to follow her ship, still bouncing with excitement as her ship came to a stop at an angle in front of the stadium, lined up with Veda's, Chipper Jones', Allister Barkley's and Quimby's ships. Veda and Barkley had already flipped their cockpit doors open and Veda waved to her admirers. Holo crews were already poised around her ship, ready to grab their turn at interviews.