The Outcast

by Rik Thompson

  She showed up three hours later.

  “That Hollywood Freeway is surely a struggle,” she said as she passed the Information Desk, on her way to the elevator.

  “Oh, Miss McAllister,” The pretty blond said, “You have a message here from a handsome young man.

  She walked back to the desk, “I do? Let me see.”

  She took the note, “This is good. This is very good.”

  She took the note, dropped it into her purse, and walked away smiling.

  · * * *

  It took her one day to decide what to do. She could phone the boy, or go to his apartment in West Hollywood. She took the Hollywood Freeway, to Sunset, took a left on Bronson Avenue, and then another left onto La Mirada, and there one hundred yards on the left she parked at the Karnak Apartments. She walked up to the third floor, and knocked on the door of apartment three-eleven.

  The door opened to a shirtless, and barefooted Book.

  “Hello there. Welcome to The Karnak. Please, come in.”

  She walked into the one room unit. She noticed it was comfortable even so it only had one room. The walls were beige; there in the center of the room was a black, round carpet with flecks of gold, and a black cloth futon. There was a small desk with a computer terminal off to the right, and nice framed pictures of the mountains adorned the walls.

  “This is nice, Book. But where do you – “

  “Oh, it is two rooms. I wouldn’t have taken the place if it did not have a bathroom.”

  “I wouldn’t have either,” she smiled.

  “Please sit” he said pointed to the futon. She took a seat.

  “How have you been?”

  “Just fine,” he answered. “I got a job the very next day after I last saw you.”

  “Thought you were highly resourceful from the very first time we talked. I did come back out to the community looking for you, but you had already left.”

  “Thanks for checking up on me,” he said.

  She thought for a moment. . . How do I go about talking about what Jepson told me?

  She would take it slow.

  “Mister Jepson is a real nice man, I thought. The way he was so concerned about the people living in the community. When I finally asked about you, he told me an incredible story, and a story I just had to follow up on.”

  “Oh, my escape from the Moon?”

  Shirley McAllister was flabbergasted. If she put this in the paper it would be the story of the century. But she knew that she couldn’t. She had to protect the boy from the forces that were out to get him.

  “I know The Population Control Board is looking for you,” she said. “They probably want to send you back to the Moon.”

  “Yes, I know. Sylvie Robers wants me really badly.”

  “Yes, and I know that too. She’s been in the paper a few times asking, and pleading to the world to find you.”

  She did not mention that she personally knew Sylvie Robers, not yet.

  She blushed a bit, “Why yes! How in the world did you escape from the Moon so far away to come here?”

  He smiled, “Well, do you have awhile?”

  “I have as long as it takes,” she answered.

  He began to tell his story being very precise, humorous, and forthcoming: “It was about origins.”

  “Origins?” she asked. “How so?”

  “Mind you, my tutor was a first-generation robot, made at Electro-Tech.”

  A small gasp from Shirley.

  “By ten years old, I had under my belt five degrees, and in that learning process I began to think about how I became to be. Fact was, Donnie, my tutor, mentor, and later to become my best friend was the first to hear of my way of thinking, as to my origin. He was inculcated to my train of thought that he went to an engineer to find out how he became to be. But we both knew that he was manufactured. We both knew that I, wasn’t.”

  “You’re saying that those people out there did not explain to you your birth from the womb?”

  “I imagined that they thought, if they did, then I would want more. After all the education I was receiving, and doing such an outstanding job, it wasn’t until I began to read the Bible that this origin thought really exploded inside of me.

  “We tried several methods of finding out, as according to scripture, a super being, God, created human beings. Then I began to think, how can that be, and what was the method? It was quite confusing to my young mind.

  “All I could find out in all our clandestine efforts to get to the bottom of it all, was my name: Book.

  When Donnie finally really gave into me, and off the cuff admitted that I most likely had come from Earth. We both decided to escape, and come to the Earth. And it was here that I began to unravel my origin; further explained to me by a woman named Abra, in Louisiana.

  “When Donnie was destroyed, I removed his memory module, and discovered that he was manufactured at Electro-Tech, which led me here. I came with nothing to Earth, except the knowledge of my education. I could not prove to anyone here that I had all this education, and was very proficient with it. I had false documents arranged in the name of Donnie Book to get me where I wanted to go.”

  “And where was that?” Shirley asked brushing her hair back.

  · * * *

  Timothy Wade was preparing for re-entry into the Earth’s atmosphere. He was finishing up a delivery of bots on the moon that would usher in mining operations on asteroids. While there he heard a story of a young man who escaped not very long ago, and wondered if he had heard anything of the youth as to if he had survived the landing.

  Operations Manager, Eban Card did not think he made a safe trip.

  “They took a shuttle craft that has no protection from re-entry into a planet’s atmosphere, is why I asked,” Wade said.

  “They?” Timothy asked.

  “Yes, he took a first-generation Electro-Tech synthetic with him, and I imagine they both came up with a plan of escape.”

  “Interesting. No, I haven’t heard of that one. But, then again, I am so connected to my research, I probably wouldn’t know if the world was ending right around me. What was he doing on the Moon in the first place? Didn’t you say he was just a child?”

  “He was raised here on the Moon. We brought him here shortly after birth. He was warded to us via The Population Control Board. At first, we wanted to send him to Mars, but we went along with their recommendation that he be evaluated. We evaluated him, found that he had an incredible IQ and decided he would remain here, be tutored by the synthetic that aided him in his escape, and eventually he would become an engineer. With the help of the synthetic human, Donnie, he was degreed in three disciplines: Chemistry, physics, and Quantum Mathematics, by age ten.”

  Timothy Wade couldn’t get the boy out of his mind. Even landing at the Electro-Tech facility, back on Earth, at the company’s transport pad was still thinking of the boy. How could a mere child plan an escape like that, or did he even pull it off successfully?

  TWENTY

  “To Electro-Tech.”

  Shirley sat stone faced. She could not believe. . .now there had to be no doubt. She began to whimper a bit, then tears came down her cheeks.

  Book moved closer to her, and put his arm around her.

  “Now, don’t cry. What’s the matter?”

  “Booker Wade,” she said.

  Book raised his eyebrow, wrinkling up his forehead.

  “Who is Booker Wade?”

  She cried openly now.

  “You are Booker Wade,” she gasped.

  “You are my son.”

  “You are. . . Mother?”

  · * * *

  Booker Wade sent his mother to the shower. He thought it best that she calmed down as they had so much catching up to do.

  After that they had coffee and talked for hours about all their trials and tribulations that had finally brought them both to this period in time.

  “Mother, so you named me, Booker Wade?”

  “Sylvie R
obers took you away from me. I told her when she stopped by the prison infirmary, that someday she would pay for taking my Booker Wade, away from me.”

  “So, you named me right then and there?”

  “Yes, I did. I had tried so damned hard to keep you. I ran here and there trying to escape her reach, but in the end, she won out. It took all these very long and disheartening years, but I have you back.”

  “And my Father?” he asked wiping a tear from his eye.

  “He did not care, wasn’t concerned at all. He was wrapped up in his work. He avoided prosecution entirely from the Government, because he was so far up in the Government.”

  Then Shirley espoused an explosive dynamo.

  He still works at Electro-Tech, and by now I believe he runs the place.”

  · * * *

  Booker Wade hurried to the Information Desk. The pretty, young desk clerk recognized Donnie Book right off, even in his hurried state.

  “Nice to see you Mister Book,” she greeted.

  “Hi, Nancy, an anxious Book said, “do you know what office Timothy Wade works in?”

  Nancy thumber her way through the rolodex.

  “He’s in suite five-o-one, she answered looking up from the map on her desk.

  Book rushed on, stopped suddenly, and looked back at Nancy.

  “Where exactly is that? And, I didn’t know they had suites here?”

  “Yes, hard to imagine, as they’re behind the main complex, I had to consult the map, but right here; if you go out the door in the front, and head down the south road – “

  She was tracing the route with her finger and when she looked up from the map, Book was nowhere to be seen.

  * * *

  He did not know there were suites. How come he did not have one? He wondered what those buildings behind the complex were used for. Now he would find out.

  He drove the south road and ended up at the security gate that entranced the complex behind the facility. He parked in the building five park lot. In less than ten minutes later he was knocking at the door of five-o-one.

  The door opened and Booker Wade stood gazing into his father’s face. His hair was partially grey, mixed in with the black, full head of hair. He was be speckled in black horn-rimmed glasses, and dressed in a blue sweater, and black trousers. He was slightly taller. He had a welcoming smile on his face.

  “What took you so long to show-up here, Son. Come in, please, come in.”

  The place was plush, and quite comfortable. Book kept a straight face, and tried to determine what he was going to say. How he was –

  His Dad ushered him to the couch.

  “What’s wrong, Son. I cannot tell if that is a look of surprise, or consternation on your face. What’s up with you?”

  Just then jolt of anger came over Booker Wade.

  “I have talked to Mother, and unfortunately she has told me all about you. Your false love for her and your betrayal of her, and me.”

  Book stood up.

  “You could have done so much more for Mom and me, but no. You did not desire that outcome. Instead, you cast us aside, and we suffered all the years without us being together. You had it within your power to make us a family, and you refused. Instead, it was better to be in the government, no matter the cost.”

  It was then that the door to the bedroom opened and out came Sylvie Robers.

  She took up a position between Timothy and Book.

  “You’re wrong, Son. Your father cared very much for your future, and that’s why he sent you to the Moon. He knew that was the best place for you to be to contribute to – “

  “That’s bull-shit. If that were true, then someone, preferably him, would have told me so. Would have told me he was my father a long time before he just opened the door a few minutes ago. He would have made it right for all of us.”

  It was then that security came through the door.

  “Let’s get that boy back to the Moon where he belongs,” Timothy Wade said.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Booker Wade is in the company of two-armed Control Board Agents down the paved path to the landing deck, on to the craft that will take him back to the Moon.

  This can’t be happening. I have come so far, learned so much. Can’t let this get away.

  The ship, an Explorer class, used primarily to transport up to four humans; on the other hand, a cargo class can transport and entire army, and all their accoutrements.

  Whish, the door on the port side of the craft opens, and the pilot dressed in total black meshed material, complete with a black, shiny helmet and dark visor comes and stands in the doorway. There is a brief flash which Book keys in on is the light from the dimly lit cabin is cast down upon the sidearm the pilot has hanging from his hip.

  The taller of the two agents accompanying Book speaks:

  “The one called Book is ready for transport to Moon base Alphi-One,” the agent said as he directed Book up the ramp.

  The pilot stepped away from the door. The boy took a seat behind the pilot’s seat, and the blaster-toting pilot fastened him to the seat.

  The pilot regained his seat at the controls. He pressed a button to the left and the doorway closed with a sucking sound. Engaging the controls lifted the ship off the ground straight up five hundred feet, and switched to the vertical mode.

  “What’s your name?” Book asked.

  “That’s totally irrelevant,” the pilot answered, then, “Donnie. Donnie is my name. And you are called Book.”

  “Booker Wade is my real name, at least it is what my Mother refers me to. I’m surely glad that I found that out.”

  “I’m very glad you found that out too. I believe we should find out more if we can.”

  Book shook his head, “Whaaat? Wait a minute. . .Donnie, is that you?”

  “It tis me, indeed.”

  “Wait a minute. How did you take control of this craft?”

  “Just did a little pretending,” Donnie said.

  SOMEWHERE IN THE ARIZONA DESERT

  “Let’s get you out of those restraints,” Donnie said as he pulled off his helmet.

  “You know, I really like this third-generation body you gave me. I especially like this Lagniappe,” he added as he began to unzip his suit.

  “Let’s just skip that part, Donnie,” Book said as a look of embarrassment fell onto his face.

  “You know what you did here, Book. You gave me a chance at being almost human. Who knows where this will lead?”

  “Wonderful. You’re welcome, tin man. Now, let’s move onto what we are doing next.”

  * * *

  “Question is, what do we do next?” Book asked out loud.

  Where a guard would sit normally, Book sat right across from Donnie, in the shuttle, in the hot and dry Arizona desert.

  They debated, and between the torrid disagreements, and the robots’ piloting skills, they touched down in the Electro-Tech pad.

  “He should be there,” Donnie christened, quite sure of himself.

  “Should be. . . my issue is, not sure what I will say, or do. That frankly,” Book paused, “in the emergence of the meeting.

  “I guess that was the discussion, in the desert, which led us to such a disagreement, my alloyed friend.”

  “How long do you think you will be?” Donnie asked.

  “Dunno. Really should be going to see Mom, first. But I am angry, confused, upset, and not having a good day thinking about confronting my Father. I can say if anyone can get the PCB off me, he can. Got to take that chance, and hopefully thing won’t blow up in our face.

  “C’ya, wait for me.”

  He trotted up and into the Electro-Tech lobby, and the information desk.

  “Hello Nancy,” he said.

  “Nice to see you Mister Book,” she answered back.

  He exited quickly through the lobby, and the Information Desk, out, and toward the buildings in the back of the complex.

  * * *

  Book paused, braced himself, took a deep
breath and opened his Father’s office door.

  “Oh, it’s you.”

  “What do you mean, it’s you?” Book asked.

  “You’re on the Moon, aren’t you?”

  “Not quite, and mostly important, ain’t going to happen.”

  “Listen, Son,” Timothy began, “I’m not your father, in the sense of the term. It was a mistake to bring you here. It happened, and now it is over.”

  “You can’t let it end like this. I have come so far, and okay, might be an accident – “

  Timothy Wade walked to his desk and removed his Glock.

  “It is the end for you, Boy. Your pain in the ass days have come to an end. I am not here to suddenly parent someone who is of age, and I don’t even know. To hell with it.”

  The door shattered, and Donnie ran to the boy, and shielded him as the weapon blazed.

  Timothy Wade drew his hand over his chest, a crimson color protruded from between his fingers, and Timothy Wade fell to the floor, dead.

  In today's world getting pregnant out of wedlock would be the first part of the offense. Not applying for a proper birth grant which entails going before a board of your peers would be the second part of the offense, and each part of the offense would be an automatic five years a piece, punishable by ten years, minimum, in a Federal prison. However; there would be exemptions to this rule ……Keith Senne

  EPILOG

  A room full of people. Here, sat Sylvie Robers, here, sat the boy’s mother. It was a small court room. Most importantly, it was a Population Control Board, court room.

  The meeting, court proceeding, the boy, who calls himself Book, but was named by his mother, Shirly McAllister, Booker Wade . . .it was all about him.

  Book fidgets in his chair. Doesn’t know what fate will befall him. Is the journey for his freedom, and understanding, finally over?

  “This man murdered his father,” Sylvie Robers began, “and we are just going to let this young man tell us adults what he wants? I don’t think so.”