by Rik Thompson
· * * *
2056 – ONE YEAR LATER
A year has passed since the discussion, the argument of the boy’s origin; if that argument did anything at all, it resulted in the realization, as well as the contemplation of a deep search of the robot’s memory banks of the importance of beginning. It finely crafted a definitive response to the start of a human beings life, it made Donnie take up the very idea of where his young friend may have started out in his life’s journey and through the search and discovery the metal man had to at least recognize the efforts the boy had brought about the inculcation of this, the gift of life – how fortunate it was to have a beginning versus no beginning at all. Even so his thought was that of programmed machine language which would be used to extract this importance, he still rationalized it to be deemed important and necessary. He decided in this New Year to take this subject up and to see if he could help Book in his search for the history of his beginning. He began his search where he ended his search, in the Engineering module where he confronted Sam Rollins.
“Hello Donnie,” Sam said as Donnie entered.
“Hello, Sam. You know my name?”
“Uh, yes. Not sure how I knew it. Guess it just gets around.”
The conversation was general the first few minutes, eventually shifting to Book. Sam acknowledged the metal man’s plea but quickly snuffed it out to policy.
“I am well aware of the policy,” Donnie said, “but since you told me where I started out …”
“Quite different,” Sam countered, “you are machine - the boy is a human being. But even so, if I could really say where the boy came from …honestly, I don’t even know.”
“Oh, by the way, “Donnie said, “speaking of beginnings, do you know how I began?”
“Sure do. You were manufactured and programmed as a first generation synthetic, at Electro-Tech, back in 2035, and sent here.”
“Thank you, Sam,” Donnie said, bowing out. “Thank you for your honesty, Sam.”
The very next day which also included deep thought, he devised a plan. He would go to the records module, look into the classified section and find out for himself where the boy came from. Yes, the answer would be there.
· * * *
Book threw up his arms and stared down the robot with bewilderment.
“What do you mean I can’t go with you? I need to find this out way more than you do my friend.”
“I know you do, and I do want you to come, but the records module is off from this section of the base and requires a spacewalk, and it is simply too dangerous.”
“And that’s why I cannot go? That isn’t any reason at all.”
Extra Vehicle Activity suits were hard to come by on the base. There never was, it seemed enough of them requisitioned, and they were always in short supply. Scientist, workers, and engineers would come and go and somewhere down the line there seemed to never be enough EVA suits to go around.
The Moon base, outside the confines of the various modules that scattered the set perimeter was a lonely, cold and dark place. Confined within an EVA suit made it all the lonelier out on the desolate Moonscape, in the empty environment.
Donnie trudged along in his gravity boots as he made for the utility module. As he neared the building, he scanned his memory banks for the correct code to allow him access to the facility.
“Eight, six, four, three, and two,” he quoted as he punched the numbers in on the keypad. He heard the whoosh, as the vacuum lock gave way. This module was unattended as it was only used for storage. He strolled about the acrylic floor reading the placards to discover that his goal, an EVA suit would be housed in locker three, in accordance with the manifest placard. He found that there were four extra suits within the locker and he carefully inspected each one of them before deciding which to take. Now, it was just a question of getting the suit back to the boy and making sure it would be good enough for the journey to the records module.
“Does it fit you alright?”
“Seems to; it is a bit weird but I guess it will do in a pinch.”
When do we go to the records’ module?”
“We should leave soon. We want to get that suit back to utility where it belongs before it is missed.”
Personnel were limited in the early wee hours of earth standard hours when they entered the records module. Various computers lined the wall on one side of the module.
“Are you going to be able to get the information from those computers?”
“I should be able to. Should only be a basic access code,” Donnie replied as he began punching in a series of codes. He tried different sets of codes only to get a reply of, unauthorized user.
They would have to return, and Donnie would want to go it alone on the next attempt at the information. He finally won the argument after a few exchanges.
That code will be in the control room of the life support module.
But do I have access to that facility? Donnie thought. And if I have the access, what would be the reason that I am there? He would have to answer those questions before his attempt at the facility. He began to ramble through his AI to answer those questions before he went to discuss it with the boy.
“You have to walk in there like you belong in the place,” Book said.
“You are just a boy. How would you know how I was supposed to act?”
“Because,” Book continued, “that’s where we differ. I am a human and you are just a machine. I admit I don’t have all the answers to the dilemma, and it’s just a feeling that I have. I do know that if you just walk into the place – what’s a good word?”
The metallic man ran that thought pattern through his memory banks, and came up with –
“Owner, like I am the owner of the place.”
“That’s it exactly! You just have to walk in there like you own the place.”
“Only, how does one project, ownership in walking?”
With the boy’s help, Donnie practiced owner walking; a certain swagger one has when they are in control, like a John Wayne. Now all he had to do was come up with a reason for his being there.
The whoosh of the vacuum door admitted Donnie into the control room module. The complex had quite a few humans moving throughout the building, while others shuffled papers in the many desks that lined one wall. Donnie approached the first desk.
“I would like an audience with the educational proctor, please.”
The man got up from his desk, “I will see if he is in.”
The desk attendant, Joe Ferguson limped through the aisle of desks and down a hall. His limp was the result of a near fatal air-lock accident, in which a surgeon had to remove a section of Joe Ferguson’s leg, and even so he was fitted with a prosthetic, he still had a slight limp.
“The damned thing never fit right,” he would say.
He paused for a brief moment at a door which was titled, Mark Hainey, Educational Director. Then he rapped on the door softly.
“Come in,” boomed a voice from beyond the door. Joe opened the door and stepped into the office. There, sitting in a big, plush leather-like chair was good, old Mark Hainey.
One could point out Mark in a large crowd fairly easy. He was a big man in stature, and roundness too, and for a big man, he always wanted to help; help seemed to go with the rotund shape the man was in. You always could depend on Mark to help out on any circumstance or occasion.
“Joe Ferguson, what brings you down my way on such a wonderful day,” Mark said with a grin of satisfaction on his huge face.
“Well, there’s a man, err, a robot out here who wants to speak with you.”
“Really, I don’t believe today is April Fools, is it?” Mark asked.
“Sure, as I’m standing here. I believe the robot’s name is Donnie.”
“Now they’re giving robots names?” Mark replied, shaking his head. “What does this concern?”
“He didn’t say. He just said he wanted to have an audience with the educational proctor.”
“Oh, he did, did he?”
Mark wrinkled up his forehead a minute, “Isn’t that robot the caretaker of that boy that came up from Earth a few years ago?”
“Yes, that’s him,” Joe replied. “Now why didn’t I think about that particular angle?”
“Because,” Mark smiled, “you aren’t the people person that I am.”
Donnie fidgeted as he ran his metal hands up and down his metal legs. He shuffled his metallic boots around waiting for Mark Hainey to show. He had never seen nor met the man, but as he watched the hulk of a man walking toward him, with Joe Ferguson trailing behind he had a strong thought that it was him. He seemed to Donnie rather menacing as the man came toward him.
“Donnie, so good to see you,” Hainey said as he walked right up to the robot and stuck out his hand.
Donnie extended his hand to him.
“Now, pray tell, how in the world did you get that name?”
“My student gave it to me,” Donnie said smiling.
“He must like you quite a bit to give you a name,” Hainey said, grinning back.
“He appreciates me extensively.”
How can I help you?”
· * * *
Donnie paused for a good thought after leaving Mark Hainey, and making his way back to Book.
I managed to pull it off, and almost perfectly, he thought to himself. Now he and the boy could get to the bottom of his origins; the question finally answered.
· * * *
It was late when the door opened and Donnie walked into the room. The boy was asleep. Donnie walked across the room, sat down on the side of the bed and gently shook the boy. The boy opened his eyes and sat up in the bed.
“I finally got the records,” he said as he opened the folder in his metallic right hand. His silicon based latex hand made a slight squeaking sound as his hand moved along the surface of the metal folder. He handed the folder to the boy. The boy took the folder and then looking up he studied the metal man’s face.
“Go on and read it. We surely have worked our waist off ...”
“Butts,” Book corrected, “we have worked our butts off to get this valuable information, “he said as he smiled and opened the metal folder.
The folder contained just his given name of, Book that was all, no rhyme or reason for the name just that it was the entire history. A comment at the end of the document related his date of birth, and when he landed on the Moon – nothing of his origin – nothing of his history - nothing.
“This does not tell us anything at all, and it does not make sense. I wonder why that is?”
Donnie thought for a moment, “It does not make any sense to me either, Book; looks like they did not want that information, your beginning to have any chance of getting out. It is a sad state of affairs, indeed.”
“You know, this makes me really mad; mad that they have held this information from me, and upset that we had to steal the information. But I will fix that. I will go to Earth, and resolve this.”
“You can’t do ...how?”
“I don’t know yet, but as soon as I figure it out, I am off this Moon.”
TEN
Two months have passed by and the boy found himself no closer to escape from the Moon then he was when he stated that was what he intended to do. Throughout the passing two months Donnie had searched and searched for something to help his young friend escape. Then one day:
Donnie walked the long corridor to the boy’s room like a man on a mission, reaching the door he burst into the room.
“How soon do we leave?”
“Huh, what are you talking about?”
“Believe it or not I have found the answer to our trouble.”
Book studied the metal man’s un-emotionless face skeptically, “We? We are not leaving the Moon together. The only one that is out of here is me.”
Donnie placed his metal hands onto his metal hips. “You can’t go it alone, Book. It will take the both of us to pilot the craft out of here.”
“Craft, what craft?”
“The one I just now located.”
“You found a ship? Can you operate it?”
The metal man parted his fleshy metal lips producing a slight grin which in reality looked like a sneer.
“It is programmed into my data base and is similar to the craft I brought you here on.”
· * * *
The bay doors opened, they entered the hanger and made their way to the craft.
“This craft isn’t any bigger than a shuttle, “Book said as they neared the craft while sizing it up from every angle.
“What do you mean?”
“Probably doesn’t matter,” he replied, “it just reminds me of the old shuttle crafts used on that television show, Star Trek, I watched on video disk in my younger days.”
Donnie nodded, punched in the code to the door of the shuttle, “Let’s go.”
Book followed Donnie into the silver, titanium shuttle.
They walked to the front of the diminutive craft and took a seat at the two-seater controls. The controls were much like a video game. There was a screen, like a video game, a joystick like a video game, other than that there was an information panel to the starboard side of the craft. Donnie explained its purpose.
“It lists there in those lighted panels what each function of the craft does. There,” he said pointing to a lighted panel “is the thruster lights, respectively, the hover, and the full thrusters. We will be using the hover to leave the bay as soon as we are strapped in.”
They strapped in and Book had another question, “So you think my story begins on Earth?”
“Every human being I have met is from there, so I would say definitively, yes.”
“Okay, but why Earth? Is there some facility that mass produces humans?”
“I cannot answer that, Book. The answer to that we will have to discover for ourselves. The study of human origins was never programmed into my logic banks.”
“Hey, look at this,” Book said pointing to a plaque above the info panel, “WADE.”
“That is curious,” Donnie said, “this craft must have been commissioned recently, as I have never seen this craft here before. I wonder what its purpose is?”
“It is here to get us to the Earth, so let’s get to it.”
Security was making the rounds when the watchman heard a low hum and then looking out, he saw the hangar bay door open and the craft hovering out the door. He ran to the control room panel and pressed the red button, and the module came to life. Frank Spires ran into the room.
“Someone has activated the Asteroid craft,” security said.
“Quick, go and check the Wade module,” Spires said.
· * * *
“Wow, this is where it all began.”
Book stared out the viewport window, gazed down at the blues of the oceans, mingled with the browns and the greens of the landscape as the little ship began its orbit of Earth.
This peaceful moment did not last long though as Donnie had a concern.
“It appears that this craft does not have a heat shield.”
Book tapped the side of his head, “That’s right. There is no way that this ship can hit the atmosphere here and expect to make it safely down. It will burn up. Unless – “
“Unless we can use the hover thrusters to break the fall,” Donnie said as he eased the craft out of orbit and began the ascension to Earth.
“Okay, Book, start manipulating the thruster. Engage and count to ten and disengage.”
It only took fifteen seconds from the time they left orbit for the craft to reach maximum ascent velocity. Book was in his second engagement of the hover thruster when the panel went from green to the cautionary yellow. “It’s getting hot in here,” Donnie said as the dash panel screen began to smoke.
“What is that?” Book asked looking down at the planet’s surface.
“Looks like a river,” Donnie answered looking at the black, thin band zigzagging its way a
long the surface. “How are the thrusters holding?”
“Not good. The panel will be red in no time at all.”
“We have no choice but to abandon ship. See that hatch panel mid-ship”
“Yes, I do,” Book replied. “And we have just lost the thrusters.”
“Let’s go. I surely hope we are not too far from the surface,” Donnie replied, not enough oxygen, and I could lose my best friend.”
They unstrapped, stood up and did the best they could to navigate the forty-five-degree slant of the deck.
Donnie went ahead and took up a position right at the hatch, “These suits should offer up nominal protection against the fall, if we can hit that river below just right. Okay, Book, blow the hatch, and take a deep, deep breath.”
They left the craft at the same time and watched as the craft was obliterated by fire, and then nothing. Dawn ushered in the new day as the metal man and boy plummeted down to the planet below.
Falling and falling toward the surface, Book found it hard to breathe – just enough to stay conscious. He looked below to see Donnie way below him as both of them fell toward the river which was coming up fast. Book molded himself into a fetal position just before he hit the river. Down and down he plunged; the soft, silt of the murky bottom came up to greet him. He tried to expand his lung capacity as he struggled to the surface. Shortly after his head broke the surface, he spotted Donnie a quarter of a mile away. He noticed that the metal man was floundering in the water so he began to swim vigorously toward the robot.
In a matter of seconds Book reached the flailing metal man.
“Calm down and kick your legs ...just take it easy and start kicking your legs.”
Donnie slowed down and did as Book suggested, “I am not used to being totally submerged in liquid. Why I am surprised my servos did not freeze up.”