“Did he say ‘class’?” Candy asked.
“No, ‘glasses’.”
“Ah.”
“How about a beer?”
“No, thank you.”
Silence. Cold like the sand.
On stage, the Red Hot Cyborg Players concluded their song. Blackie announced that it was nearly time for the fireworks display to begin. “This next song is brand new. We wrote it during dinner. It’s called Fireworks.” He turned to VanCat. “Van, take it away.”
Everyone clapped and cheered.
VanCat stepped forward with his double-neck, twenty-four-string Fender. Tiny light-emitting diodes on the body lit up when he played, transforming sound into light and color. Van’s four hands played both necks softly, brushing all twenty-four strings.
Kong came in soft on his drums, followed by Whitey on his bass.
The song was melodic, beautiful, and made Danny ache inside.
Blackie stepped up to the mic. His red eyes positively beamed. “Now would be a good time for anyone standing by the bar to come out to the dance floor.”
Everyone turned and stared at Danny and Candy.
“In fact,” said Blackie, “why don’t you guys join us on stage for this number.”
Everyone clapped and cheered.
Danny and Candy looked at one another.
“Come on up,” said Blackie, “there’s room.”
The crowd cheered louder, clapped harder.
Danny caught Rory’s eye. The look on Rory’s face said it all: showtime.
Without a word, Candy began strutting toward the stage.
Danny could only follow Candy up the steps and onto the stage.
The tempo of the music increased, as did the volume. Blackie began to sing.
Everyone down on the sand began to dance. The new song was an instant hit.
Danny met Candy’s eye. “Now what?”
Candy shook her head and put her hand close to her ear. She couldn’t hear him.
Their eyes met.
Slow and tentative, Candy held out her hand.
Danny looked at it, at the skin tape covering her cut so like his own.
Candy stood motionless. Her hand hung in space.
She spoke. Danny could not hear, but he read the words on her soft pink lips: Do you want me?
A screaming peel split the night, followed by a flash of brilliant red light, and a percussive explosion Danny felt in his chest.
Fireworks lit up the sky.
Great blossoms of light opened in the darkness. Red and blue and green and gold, sparkling overhead like luminescent rain.
Mortars blasted into the air from Tim’s offshore barge. Everyone cheered.
The pops, booms, whistles, and cracks melded perfectly with the music Blackie and the guys were pumping out of the Marshall stacks. VanCat played with his eyes closed. Blackie held the mic in both hands, giving it his all. Whitey bobbed his head and rocked his bass. Kong pounded his drums, keeping perfect time while he smiled up at the fireworks with his red cyborg eyes.
Candy’s silent words hung in the air, louder and brighter than the fireworks, ringing in Danny’s ears.
Do you want me?
A red starburst flashed overhead, followed by thunder.
Red light filled Candy’s eyes.
Danny could scarcely bring himself to hold Candy’s gaze. Her eyes so red.
Do you want me?
And then he said it. “You’re not real.”
The drums beat.
Candy dropped her hand.
The guitar hummed.
Candy took one step back.
~
Music filled the night.
Candy climbed down from the stage and onto the sand.
Danny merely watched as Candy walked and then ran away from him.
She looked over her shoulder, directly at him, while she pushed her way through the dancing guests. She fled toward the house, and her long blond hair bounced with each stride.
Danny watched her go, with fireworks bright and purple and red and green, and her eyes wet with tears.
August
September
October
Chapter 30
Robot Intuition
and
a Promise
All Hallow’s Eve.
Danny sat on one side of his deep, cozy sectional sofa.
Floyd and Susannah occupied the other side, snuggled close to one another.
Howard made the requisite journey to the front door each time the doorbell chimed. He distributed generous handfuls of candy with his large, complexly-jointed hand. He complimented the trick-or-treaters, praising the little fairy princesses, and oohing appropriately at the frightening witches and ghouls.
Danny took another hit from Floyd’s bong, and handed the pipe to Floyd. Floyd cleared it of the milky white smoke and passed it to Susannah. Susannah fired the bowl with Floyd’s souvenir Statue of Liberty torch.
“Hey, Howard?” Danny called.
“Yes, sir?” Howard dropped fistfuls of candy into the orange plastic pumpkin pales of two zombies.
“Bring me back another piece of chicken please.”
Howard bid good evening to the trick-or-treaters, closed the door, and returned to the kitchen. Between trips to the front door, Howard was attempting to clean up the dinner feast. He kept the food itself warm on the stove and in the oven. He’d learned that when Masters Floyd and Danny and Mistress Susannah were partying, their appetites tended to be enormous. Floyd placed a breast of chicken on a plate, along with a generous portion of his homemade sweet potatoes and a mound of spinach salad. He handed the plate to Danny.
“How did you know I wanted sweet potatoes and salad, too?” Danny asked.
“Robot intuition, sir.” The doorbell chimed once more, and Howard moved to answer it.
Danny spooned a massive heap of sweet potatoes into his mouth and said, “Robotic intuition? Hey, you guys, do robots have intuition?”
On the giant television, two round-headed boys were spending the night in a pumpkin patch, awaiting the arrival of a mythical being. One of them owned a beagle of some repute. Danny had difficulty following the story. His eyes felt fuzzy. His head felt fuzzier. He savored the potatoes in his mouth and waited for an answer from Floyd and Susannah. He had never tasted anything so decadent.
Floyd’s gaze remained fixed on the television. Susannah stared at the ceiling, blowing smoke rings into the air.
“Hey, you guys,” Danny repeated, “do robots have intuition?”
Floyd and Susannah looked at Danny, and then at one another.
“I think so,” said Susannah.
“I dunno,” said Floyd, “I never really thought about it.”
“What’re we watching?” asked Danny.
“The Great Pumpkin, man,” said Floyd. “After this, Halloween is on. After that, The Exorcist is on. You’re going to want to be extra high for that.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s some scary shit,” said Susannah. “Have you never seen The Exorcist?”
Danny smiled around an over-zealous bite of spinach salad and shook his head. Spinach leaves and stems stuck out of his mouth.
“You are in for a treat, my friend,” said Susannah.
“What’s it about?” Danny asked.
“It’s about a little girl named Reagan who finds a Ouija board in the basement. She starts playing with it and winds up getting possessed by the devil. Then these two priests show up to battle for her soul.”
Danny masticated the spinach leaves in his mouth. “Is it good?”
Susannah deftly packed a fresh bowl. “It’s fuckin’ terrifying. The first time I saw it was when I was eleven. I had nightmares for a week.”
“Cool,” said Danny. “You think a robot could get possessed?”
“I dunno,” said Susannah, “do robots have souls?”
“I dunno. Floyd, what do you think?”
Floyd’s eyes remained fixed
on the television, where a girl named Lucy was bobbing for apples at a Halloween party. “Do robots have souls? I like to think they do. Take Howard, for instance.” At the front door, Howard was praising a little girl dressed as a ladybug. “He’s great with kids. I think we’d all agree he’s one helluva chef. And from what Canary Cherrolet tells me, Howard is the best first officer he’s ever had. Child psychology, culinary arts, and aviation are not expressly in his programming. Yet Howard loves to cook, loves to fly, and, apparently, loves kids.” At the front door, Howard pressed the palm of his opened hand against the palm of the lady bug. The lady bug smiled up at Howard.
“Isn’t it just a bunch of fancy programming?” Danny asked.
“Could be,” said Floyd. “But it seems to go beyond that. He saved your life twice, right? Once in the shuttle with Candy, and once in your jet?”
Candy.
Danny had spent the better part of the past three months trying not to think about her. And in an instant, the dreadful hollow feeling inside him was back. The cannabis he’d bought from Nik at the Fourth of July party had helped forget about her. When it ran out, Floyd’s virtually endless stash had helped to continue Danny’s self-imposed behavior modification project. The project’s one and only goal was to modify a singular behavior: thinking about Candy.
Overall, the project had been a complete failure.
Danny set his plate of food on the coffee table. He stared at his hands slumped in his lap.
“Sorry, man,” said Floyd. “I forgot.”
“It’s okay.” Danny sighed.
“You really miss her, don’t you?” Susannah asked.
Danny nodded.
Howard entered and stood beside Danny. His red eyes focused on Susannah. “Has there been any contact with Miss Candy?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” said Susannah. “She told me she was going on sabbatical, and to tell her clients the same. I haven’t been in to work since July. I work from here or my place, checking messages and email on my phone. The number for her mobile phone stopped working two months ago. I’ve been up to her place but she’s not there.”
Danny looked around at the three of them. “You guys think I fucked up?”
Floyd and Susannah looked at one another briefly, but did not reply.
Danny cast his eyes up to Howard. “Howard, what do you think?”
“I think you did the best you could at the time, sir.”
“That’s not what I mean. You’re the smartest person in the room. Do you think I did the wrong thing? Should I have gotten down on my knee right there on the stage that night and asked Candy to marry me? In front of you and Floyd and Susannah and Rory and Harley and Tim and Maggie and the kids and Mr. Cherrolet and the goddamn robotic tigers and the dolphins in the ocean and everyone else for Christ’s sake?”
“What I think is irrelevant,” said Howard. “There is only the past and your subsequent and current reaction to it.”
“What you think is relevant, Howard,” said Danny. “It’s absolutely one-hundred-and-fifty-fucking-percent relevant. You’re a robot. Your intellect is far beyond my own. You’re a better pilot than I am. You’re sure as hell a better cook than I am. Little kids scare the shit out of me, but you’re so at ease with them, which is why I’m making you answer the door tonight. All I can do is sit here and get high while you take care of the house and the food and the trick-or-treaters and everything else. You’re clearly a better person than I am. So answer me. Please. Do you think I messed up?”
Danny stared into Howard’s red eyes.
Howard did not speak. He did not move.
“Howard?” Danny asked.
Howard did not reply.
Susannah gasped. “Oh God, he froze.”
“Howard, please tell me you’re not frozen,” said Floyd. “I can’t afford nor do I want to replace you.”
“I’m thinking, sir,” Howard said at last.
“Oh, thank God,” Danny sighed.
Slowly, Howard sat on the edge of the coffee table, facing Danny.
Danny was quite certain he’d never sat face to face with Howard like this, looking at him eye to eye. He suddenly felt small and stupid.
When Howard spoke, his electronic voice was softer than usual. Floyd quickly muted the volume on the television.
“The night of your first date with Miss Candy,” said Howard, “where did you go?”
“We went to Chateaux Pizza. Floyd recommended it.”
Howard’s red eyes did not flicker. “And what did you wear?”
“Jeans and a tee shirt and a black leather jacket.”
“And what did Miss Candy wear?”
“The same thing.”
“And what happened to the waiter at the restaurant?”
“He almost malfunctioned trying to calculate the odds of two strangers showing up wearing identical outfits.”
Howard went on, “And when you arrived home, you shared your experience with Master Floyd and me. What did you do next?”
Danny cast his mind back to that evening nearly four months ago. “I was up until two o’clock in the morning, talking on the phone with Candy.”
“And then what happened?”
“In the morning, I picked Candy up and met you at the shuttle port. We ate breakfast on the way to the Space Port before we crashed in the Salton Sea.”
“And what did you and Miss Candy discuss during your breakfast?”
“I don’t remember. I mostly just remember the crash.”
“Miss Candy lowered the privacy screen and said you and she were considering having me take you to Las Vegas to get married. She requested my opinion on the matter.”
Susannah was leaning forward on the edge of the sofa, nearly falling off. “What did you say?”
“I said that if Master Danny and Mistress Candy were in love, a marriage may be appropriate.”
“No shit?” said Susannah.
“No shit, indeed, Miss,” said Howard. His red eyes fixed on Danny once more. “After our mishap with the shuttle, you and Miss Candy spent a few hours apart. When did you next have contact with Miss Candy?”
“Jesus, Howard, you should be a friggin’ prosecutor,” said Danny.
“Or a detective,” said Susannah, “a cop.”
“Let me think,” said Danny. “I found you with your head in the freezer. I found Candy’s underwear on my windshield. Then I went to Santa Monica and had lunch with Rory. Then I went flying with you, and then I went flying with Harley. When I got home, I checked my phone. I had two missed calls, both from Candy. So I called her. When she answered, she was crying.”
“Why was she crying?” asked Susannah.
“That was the day Barney killed himself,” said Danny.
Susannah inhaled. “That’s right. I watched him do it. It was awful. I felt so bad for him, just sitting there every day, torturing himself. I felt even worse for Candy. It was her first suicide. She really took it hard. It took forever for the positrons to wash off her hands.” Tears came to Susannah’s eyes. Floyd put his arm around her.
“I went to Candy’s,” said Danny, “to comfort her. Then she and I went flying. Three flights in one day. I spent almost ten grand on fuel.”
“And what happened next?” Howard asked.
“In the morning, actually it was afternoon, we got up and spent the day together.”
“In fact, you spent many days together, did you not?” Howard asked.
Danny smiled. “That’s right. I had a facial. We got mugged and I got this cool scar.” Danny held up his arm and examined the fine line where the wound had been sutured. “Then we went to a club and saw Blackie and the guys, and then we went into orbit and I had one of the best nights of my life.”
“And a few days later, you bought the ring, correct?” said Howard.
“That’s right,” said Floyd. “You showed it to us that night. It had an amazing cut.”
“And equally impressive clarity,” said Howard.
�
�And then we drank champagne,” said Floyd. “I made a toast and promised to buy Howard a stomach.”
“For which I am still waiting, but am no less grateful,” said Howard. “Master Danny, what did you do with the ring after that evening?”
“I had it my pocket at the beach party,” said Danny. “I had it when we were on stage. She was standing right there with her hand out, waiting for me. All I had to do was take her hand . . . and she would’ve been mine forever. I kept looking at the cut on her finger. Then I. . . .” Danny found that he could not speak. He was transported instantly back in time three months, onstage, with Blackie and the guys playing their new song Fireworks, and fireworks lighting up the night sky.
“What did you say to her?” asked Floyd. “You never told me.”
Danny forced himself to speak. “I told her she wasn’t real. Rory and Tim said she wasn’t. I had to know. I cut her because I wanted to see if blood would come out. Real blood. Human blood. I’m so stupid.”
The tears came. Try as he might, Danny could not suppress them. For the past three months, he’d feared this moment. “I can’t get it out of my head. I have this picture in my mind of Candy when she was running across the sand, running away from me. The fireworks are exploding overhead, and I see the red light in her eyes. But I can’t tell if it’s the fireworks or if they’re red because she’s. . .”–Danny peered directly at Howard–“. . .like you.”
“And what am I?” Howard asked.
“You’re . . . a robot.”
“Indeed I am. Moments ago, you declared that I am the smartest person in the room, and that my intellect is far beyond your own. You’ve heralded my affinity with children, lauded my skills as a chef, and praised my abilities as an aviator. You went so far as to refer to me as a person. I must therefore ask you, am I real?”
Danny didn’t know what to say. Tears trickled down his face.
Howard pressed on. “In the days and nights you spent with Miss Candy, how did you feel?”
Once again, Danny did not know what to say.
Once again, Howard pressed on. “Were you . . . happy?”
“Yes!” Danny blurted it out, letting the emotions come. He leaned forward and clutched at Howard. “Yes, they were the happiest days of my life. All I wanted to do was be with her. I would’ve gone to Vegas to get married. We talked about it again, but Candy wanted to wait until we could have a proper wedding, so her mother could be there to watch us feed each other wedding cake.”
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