“So what happened?” Danny was so fascinated that he failed to notice a long green drip of melting pistachio gelato trickling down his fingers.
Candy took a napkin from her pocket and wiped Danny’s fingers. “He went. It took six people, including myself, to lift Casey into the van. Then we lifted him out again once we reached Pad 21A with his rocket on it. Poor guy. He apologized over and over as we were carrying him. He said he simply couldn’t move.
“We put him in a wheel chair and took him up the lift and onto the gantry to where he was literally looking into the capsule where he was going to spend the next five hundred years. He looked down at the rocket, a great big Atlas VI. And suddenly, he relaxed. He stood up out of the wheelchair, turned to face us, and apologized for being difficult, and for making us angry and worried. Then he turned to me and said, ‘Thank you, Doctor Calvin. This is my destiny. And you will always be my friend.’ I’ll never forget those words. Then he turned and climbed into the capsule. Fourteen hours later, he blasted off and has been doing fine ever since. Last I heard, he was almost to Saturn.”
“What’s his destination?”
“That’s classified.”
“You can tell me, I won’t blab.”
“No, I mean it’s classified. They never told me. All I know is once he gets out past Pluto, he’s going to activate his special engine which, again, I know almost nothing about. But if it works, and that’s a big ‘if’, he’s going to accelerate to forty percent of the speed of light. Everybody at JPL is really excited to see what forty percent of the speed of light feels like.”
“Wow. And you really have no idea where he’s going?”
“Well, word around the water cooler was that if they’ve committed two trillion dollars and five hundred years’ worth of resources to monitor Casey and the trip, he must be going someplace really special. Personally, I think they found another planet just like Earth, and Casey is going to check it out.”
“But if it takes him five hundred years to get there, it’ll take another couple hundred years for his message to come back to Earth saying, ‘Hey, everybody, this is Casey. I’ve reached Planet blah-blah-blah and it’s a balmy seventy-four degrees Fahrenheit with clear blue skies and plenty of oxygen and nitrogen and all kinds of neat plants and animals. So load up the kids and get underway and I’ll see you in five hundred years.’ By the time we get Casey’s message seven hundred years from now, someone will have already discovered how to travel at the speed of light, or how to bend space, or how to travel through worm holes. Casey will reach Planet blah-blah-blah and there will already be a thriving metropolis with half a million people on it, with pizza parlors and coffee shops and sexually transmitted diseases that haven’t been invented yet, and domestic violence and taxes which are too high. It’ll be the same junk we have here on Earth.”
“Pizza and coffee and sex and spousal abuse and taxes? Is that really all you see in the world?”
“Well, no. Pizza and coffee I adore. But we can’t and shouldn’t pretend that those other things don’t exist.”
“True, but we should focus on the positive, like sunsets and kisses and children laughing and fireworks.”
They strolled in silence for a time, each nibbling on their waffle cone. Danny had to admit that Candy had a point. His apparent world view certainly sounded bleak. Did he really see the world that way? And if so, how difficult (or easy!) would it be to alter his perception? Sunsets and kissing and children laughing and fireworks certainly sounded a lot more fun than did his list of societal attributes. “Maybe the point of Casey’s mission is to establish a new society. A better one.”
“How so?”
“Maybe the plan isn’t for people—human beings—to follow him there. Maybe the plan is to start over. With a new population. Kind of like a backup for the entire population of Earth.”
“What sort of population?”
“I don’t know. Did Casey have any cryogenic material with him?”
Candy considered it. “I don’t know. My focus was on him. But there were two geneticists on the team. And a zoologist, plus several biologists and botanists. And I know Casey had private consultations with a cultural anthropologist and a sociologist, but he never told me what they discussed, and I didn’t want to burden him by asking him questions he’d been instructed not to answer.”
“That sounds like conclusive evidence to me. When Casey gets wherever he’s going, he’s going to seed the planet with whatever earthly specimens are required. And when everything is ready and there’s a sustainable ecosystem with plants and animals, probably a hundred years or so after he arrives, he’ll move on to the people. The kids won’t be coming from Earth because the kids are already in Casey’s freezer. He’s probably got five thousand IVF babies ready to be grown in artificial wombs.”
“That would take a lot of gear. A lot of equipment.”
“You said yourself that they strapped Casey onto an Atlas VI rocket. That’s a heavy lifter. He probably has several school bus-sized laboratories riding with him. When he lands, he’ll get everything unpacked and set up. After the babies are born, Casey will be their caretaker and schoolmaster. When they get old enough, they’ll begin breeding the old fashioned way. The fun way, like we do it here on Earth. The way God intended.”
“Casey once asked me if I believe in God.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him that yes, I do believe in God. Casey wondered if maybe he would find God somewhere out in space. I think that’s what he was thinking about in the elevator when we were riding up to the top of the gantry. And when he saw the rocket, and it all became real to him, it was in that moment that he realized why he had been created. He said it himself: it was his destiny.” Candy licked her gelato. “Do you believe in God? You wrote about it in your book, but I’ve read your book twice cover to cover, plus probably another three or four times cumulatively based on all the times I’ve used it as a reference book, particularly chapter three. But you never directly say what you personally believe, whether you do or do not believe in God.”
Danny took a deep breath and exhaled. “I want to believe that there is a God, some sort of omnipresent force in the world, in the galaxy, in the universe, which has a hand in all things, which keeps things balanced, and helps good triumph over evil. I want to believe in that. But the pragmatic scientist in me keeps getting in the way. I just don’t know. Even after I wrote The Rock of God I didn’t know. And that was the main reason I wrote the book.”
“Do you believe in miracles?”
“Same answer: I want to. But I don’t believe I’ve ever witnessed one.”
“I have.”
“You have what?”
“Witnessed a miracle.”
“When?”
“One day, I was in the lab with Casey. It was just the two of us. He was reciting mission parameters for the first ten years of his flight. My job was to listen to see if he had any hiccups.”
“Hiccups? How can a robot get the hiccups?”
“Not literally hiccups. More like a snag or a moment of difficulty. It was imperative that he operate smoothly. My job was to look for any rough spots. So I’m sitting there listening to Casey talk about electrical systems on his ship when all of a sudden he stops, puts down his eDesk, and stands up. He walks over to the window. There on the ledge is a spider. Casey picks it up. The fact that he didn’t accidentally smash it in the process is a testament to the folks who built him. Then he carries the spider in his fist over to the back door. He opens the door and opens his hand in a bush. Then he waits until the spider crawls out of his hand and onto a leaf. Casey closes the door, comes back to his seat beside me, and picks up his eDesk as if nothing happened. After a few seconds he somehow sensed something was wrong and he looked at me. Probably because I was sitting there in shock with my mouth open. Then he said, ‘If the spider remains indoors, it will likely be unable to find food. I do not wish the spider to die.’ ”
“A
pparently the first law about robots not injuring humans also pertains to spiders,” said Danny. “I can see why Casey was selected for his mission. A being sensitive enough to rescue a spider is perfect for seeding a new planet in the name of humanity. But I don’t see where the miracle was.”
“Isn’t it obvious? A machine, of its own volition, saved the life of an insect.”
“Spiders are arachnids, not insects.”
“I’m a roboticist, smart ass, not an arachnidologist or an insectologist.”
“You mean an entymologist?” Danny couldn’t stifle a grin. He was needling Candy now, having a bit of fun at her expense.
“You’re not very bright, are you?” she said.
“No. But why do you ask?”
“Because for a guy who would like to get more of what he had last night, you’re not doing a very good job of wooing me. You’re too busy criticizing my vocabulary. I should smash this gelato in your face.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve smeared sticky stuff on my face.”
“But it might be the last. Keep it up, doctor.” Candy was smiling, too. She could give as well as she got.
“Fair enough. Please continue. Help me to see the miracle.”
“The fact that a machine like Casey possessed the ability to protect the life of something as insignificant as a spider is a miracle unto itself.”
“How is that a miracle? Casey was just behaving according to his programming. According to its programming. Your sat phone behaves according to its programming, but is that a miracle?”
“Well, my phone isn’t rescuing spiders, but yes I would say my phone is a miracle, too.”
“How?”
Candy withdrew her phone from her purse and held it up. “This little thing allows me to call anywhere in the world. It sends a signal to a tower someplace, then the signal goes up to a satellite, then to probably a couple other satellites, depending on where I’m calling, like China or Japan or Australia, someplace on the other side of the globe. And then the signal goes back down to earth to a tower, and that tower sends a signal to the phone which belongs to the person I’m calling. That person answers, and we’re able to have a conversation despite the fact that that other person is cooking dinner or something, and I’m here in California, spreading sperm on my boyfriend’s face. For example. That, to me, is a miracle.”
Danny thought about it for a few moments. “I’ll admit that it is impressive technology. And it’s a lot of fun to talk to a person making dinner while you’re playing with sperm. But I’m not sure it qualifies as a miracle.” Before Candy could protest, he added, “But I’ll give it some thought. You may be right.”
Candy crunched on her waffle cone but did not protest.
Danny and Candy paused before a display window looking into a jewelry store. Inside, a robotic jeweler sat at a workbench, its hands manipulating a gold ring, to which it carefully mounted a dazzling diamond. The window display showcased jewelry of all sorts: rings and necklaces and bracelets. All of it made by hand. The hand of a robot.
Danny turned to Candy. “So I’m your boyfriend, huh?”
Candy turned to Danny and smiled.
A dark figure stepped out of a shadow. The silver blade of a knife glinted in his hand. Bloodshot eyes bulged in a face scraggly with several days’ worth of unshaven scruff. “Give me your money. All of it. Now.” He stabbed the air a few inches from Danny’s chest as a warning.
Danny turned to face the man, situating himself between Candy.
“Just take it easy,” said Danny.
“No. Shut up. Give me your money. Now!”
“No.”
“I said give me your money. I’ll cut you. I’ll stick this in your neck. I’ll cut her, too.”
“No.”
The scruffy man stared at Danny. His red, watery eyes narrowed.
“This is what’s wrong with the world today,” said Danny, “no consequences!” Danny heard his voice rising, but it was distant, as if coming to him as an echo from somewhere up the street. “People think they can do whatever they want, take whatever they want, and no one will stop them. You want my money, you’re going to have to take it. You might cut me or stick that blade in me, but I’m going to break your neck. I used to be in the special forces, and I’ve killed scum like you with my bare hands.”
The scruffy man lunged. The silver blade flashed in the neon lights.
Danny reached for the man’s wrist.
The blade sliced across Danny’s forearm. A red line appeared, and blood poured out, dripping onto the concrete between the two men.
Danny seized the man’s wrist and wrenched it as hard as he could, twisting the man’s arm. Danny stepped forward and drove the knuckles of his right hand hard into the man’s throat.
A coughing, choking sound erupted from the man’s mouth.
Danny drew back his arm and thrust his hand forward again, slamming the meaty heel of his palm into the man’s nose.
The man’s nose crunched and his legs collapsed. He fell to his knees.
Danny seized the back of the man’s head, locked his fingers around as much hair as he could find, and drove his knee as hard as he could into the man’s face. Blood spattered from the man’s nostrils, and then from his mouth.
Danny seized the hand still clutching the knife, pulled hard on the man’s wrist and arm, and forced him to the ground.
Danny dropped his knee onto the back of the man’s head and took the knife. He leaned forward and spoke into the man’s ear. “I should stick this knife in your heart, you son of a bitch. Do society a favor. But I won’t. While you’re waiting for your face to heal over the next eight weeks, I want you to think about what you could’ve done differently in your life, how this could’ve been prevented.”
A tall, burly man in a blue silk shirt, shorts, and flip-flops appeared at Danny’s side. The man flashed a badge. “LAPD. I’ve got it from here.”
Before Danny had time to withdraw, the cop had the scruffy man’s hands cuffed behind his back and used one knee to pin him to the ground. He withdrew a phone and made a call. Then he turned to Danny and Candy. “I’ve got a unit on its way, to pick up this poor bastard. I saw the whole thing. Sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I knew I shouldn’t have worn flip flops. But I’ll vouch for you, this guy instigated. You’re both in the clear. I’ll have an officer take your statement. But it better be at the hospital.”
“Why?” Danny asked.
“You’re bleeding.”
A deep gash ran about three inches down the inside of Danny’s left forearm. Rivulets of bright red blood covered his hand and dripped profusely onto the concrete.
“Looks like he got me.”
“Not as bad as you got him,” said the cop. “He’ll be drinking his dinner through a straw for a couple months.” The cop shifted his eyes to Candy. “Are you all right, Miss?”
Candy looked at the blood on Danny’s hand, at the knife he was still holding. “I’m all right.”
Sirens. Coming closer.
A black-and-white squad car appeared on the street. Followed by another. Minutes later, two ambulances arrived.
Candy stood in awe as the scruffy man was loaded onto a stretcher and into the back of an ambulance.
A crowd had gathered to watch the proceedings. Hundreds of pairs of eyes, mostly robotic, looked on. Red and blue lights from emergency vehicles flashed across their metallic faces and bodies.
A uniformed police officer came forward with a large plastic bag and had Danny drop the knife into it.
A paramedic applied a large square of gauze to Danny’s bleeding forearm and assisted Candy and then Danny into the rear of the second ambulance.
~
Danny and Candy were escorted into the emergency room at Blessed Trinity Community Hospital. A nurse led them to an exam room, and Danny sat on the bed. The square of gauze on his arm was now soaked with blood.
Candy sat in a nearby chair. “You never told me you were in t
he special forces.”
“I wasn’t. But the guy with the knife didn’t know that.”
“Then how did you know all those moves?”
“He had a knife. You were in danger. I had to stop him.”
Candy rose from her chair and took Danny’s face in her hands. She looked deep into his eyes. Then she pressed her lips to his and kept them there.
The long blue curtain suspended from the ceiling whisked open on its metallic track. A man wearing a white lab coat over baby-blue scrubs held a digital, transparent clipboard. A stethoscope hung about his neck.
Candy’s lips remained pressed to Danny’s mouth.
The physician continued reading the rest of Danny’s file. When he’d finished, he looked up at the kissing couple. “I was told somebody in here was bleeding.”
Candy withdrew her lips. She smiled at the doctor. “Sorry. It’s not every day a man saves your life.”
“Indeed. I just paid a visit to your attacker, Mister Olivaw. He looks like he tried to stop a train with his face. Nice work.”
Danny studied the doctor, trying to discern sarcasm or honesty in the man’s tone.
“I mean that sincerely,” said the doctor. “He tried to take something that didn't belong to him. He got what he deserved.” He came forward and shook Danny’s hand. “I’m Doctor Perkins. I’m actually a big fan of your work.”
“You are?”
“I’ve read your book. Robotics is kind of a hobby of mine. In fact, would you mind an autograph?” Dr. Perkins tapped the clipboard a few times and handed it to Danny, along with a short stylus he’d popped out of a top compartment.
Danny looked at the clipboard and saw the cover of his book in ebook format. He signed his name across it, then returned it to Dr. Perkins.
Dr. Perkins grinned sheepishly. “Thanks. Now, let’s make some repairs.” He pulled on a pair of latex gloves and removed the gauze from Danny’s arm. The clotted blood pulled away with the gauze, and the gash began to bleed again. Dr. Perkins sprayed the wound with two quick squirts out of a nearby bottle, then stuck his finger into the wound.
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