“Too bad this isn’t an episode of Earth Dodgers!” He flicked his hair off his forehead before continuing, “They could just say ‘Air on!’ and it would happen.” I heard a beep above my head followed by the quiet purr of a ventilation system. In moments the air was circulating comfortingly around us at a cool ambient temperature of 27 degrees or so. The expression on Jake’s face was indescribable as he realized what had happened and then he laughed out loud. “Thanks!” He yelled.
“My pleasure,” answered a voice that made me jump and reach for my gun. We looked around, but couldn’t find the source. That was when Blossom squealed with a high piece shriek that almost made my ears bleed. She’d jumped up and landed on one of the tables and was pointing down at something moving on the floor. We redirected our light sticks to try and see it more clearly.
“It’s a RAB-bot!” Jake said excitedly. “Man, 4Gig told me about these, but I didn’t believe him.” He placed his hands on his hips, superhero style and continued “RAB-bot, lights on!” Sure enough the lights overhead flickered and I got my first really good look at the robot. It was indeed shaped a bit like a rabbit, with long ears and a slightly triangular shaped body; scalene, if I remembered correctly, but with soft curves and a finish that looked like faux fur.
“Okay, so what’s a RAB-bot?” I couldn’t help but ask. The thing looked so damn cute, with big eyes and a friendly smile. I’d be damned if its nose wasn’t twitching as well.
“Actually, I’m a RAB-bot AI 2000D. I’m a Reactively Abled Biometric Robot. I can rationalize, form opinions and learn. I’m the pet of the future.”
“A.I.? As in artificial intelligence?” I asked incredulously. “Didn’t AI fail?” Before the power crisis, artificial intelligence had been a dream of the future. No need to work, if you could have your computer do it for you; no need to do any other disliked chore. Couldn’t have kids? AI. Lonely? AI. The down fall was that the bots were only as good as their programmers and once the Squints realized that they couldn’t program in passion or drive, the whole exercise had been a failure. Well, that, and the fact that some of the bots had gone a bit berserk didn’t help either. Some brainiac had decided to program them with a “live at all cost” script, to try and emulate the human will to survive. It went badly. The memory made me size up the unit. What if it was one of those bots?
“What’s the 2000D, mean?” asked Jake, lying down on the floor looking the little bot in the face.
“Style 2000, defence capable,” it answered.
“They weaponized the pet of the future?” I was horrified, but also strangely intrigued. The little bot wheeled over to me and sat up on its hind appendages.
“I’m a special project. Top secret, but my owner left me here.” There was a pause and I swear to God, the thing sighed. “Will you be my owner?”
“Ah, sure, yeah, why not.” I mean really, what was I going to say? The little digitized face lit up and it placed a wheel on my foot.
“Thank you, Owner! Thank you. What may I call you?” Jake looked mildly disgruntled that I’d usurped his find, but I’d try to rectify that.
“You can call me Dax. So what do I have to do, as your owner?”
“Do?” The question seemed to confuse it. Jake, Blossom and Cedar were as engrossed in the exchange as I was, and watched our conversation like they were following a game of Pong.
“Yes, do you require maintenance? Should I name you? What does an owner do with a RAB-bot?” None of us had ever seen equipment of this type because it had long been abandoned. For my part, I felt like I was in the pages of a Lewis Carroll book. All the bot needed was a pocket watch and vest.
“You would name me, Owner Dax?” The doubt in its voice was obvious.
“I’m sorry, am I not supposed to? Do you already have a name?” The unit almost quivered, as it sat on the floor looking up at me. I couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or anger, so I took a step back, just to be safe.
“Oh, please, please name me!” There was a light whir and the bot levitated up off the floor and hovered in front of me. I noticed its CGI eyes had little exclamation points in them. I turned to the others.
“So what should we name him?” They all looked mildly stupefied, as none of us had ever had the responsibility of naming something before, well except for Blossom and her christening of the car.
“Bitbot?” offered Cedar.
“Fluffy?” came from Blossom.
“Corax,” said Jake firmly and I smiled. Of course, he would choose a character from Earth Dodgers. None of them seemed right to me and I wracked my brain for something more appropriate and then it came to me. My grandfather used to read to me when I was small and one of his favourite stories was Watership Down written by a guy named Richard Adams and my favourite character had always been Pipkin. The little bot hovered even higher at the suggestion and it was decided.
“Owner Dax, may I ask a question?” Pipkin asked, having landed safely back on the floor.
“Sure, fire away.” The little face made a moue of confusion.
“You wish me to fire my laser?”
“No!” I said holding up my hand in alarm. “No, it’s just an expression. What do you want to know?” The computerized voice chuckled and let out a little ‘oh’ which kind of gave me the willies. I made a mental note to watch how I phrased things when talking to the droid.
“Are these people your family?” The question took me aback a little. I hadn’t really had time to think about it, but I guess, having abandoned everything and everyone when we’d fled Toronto, it was as good a description as any.
“Yeah, I guess so. If I’m not around you listen to them, okay?”
“I will protect them with everything I have; that is my program.” For some reason, that made me feel better, like I wasn’t completely responsible for the lives of the three people travelling with me. For my family, I corrected.
As the storm raged around us, we familiarized ourselves with Pipkin and in doing so, with each other as well. As it turned out, Pipkin had an emotion chip and was fully weaponized to protect his “family”. He thought it best that we only knew he could keep us safe and didn’t get in to all the details; he mentioned something about plausible deniability. He was fully integrated with the lab and factory and could control all the functioning parts of the operation. He also had a huge repository of knock-knock jokes, which were amusing at first, but started to wear thin after a while…especially the one involving a banana. He assured us that the air filtration system was fully functional and encouraged us to power down and recharge, while he kept at watch. It was a relief to close my eyes and let all the panic and stress of the last few days seep out of my pores and let my unconscious mind wander for a while.
I dreamt. The images were of cool green fields; wet with rain and furrows of dirt the colour of rusted metal, colours that couldn’t actually exist. I felt the sun warm upon my face and smiled as a bee buzzed past, in search of flowers. There was a house just visible over a gently rolling hill and I knew that someone waited there for me. What struck me most was the smell of verdancy that wafted on the breeze; moist earth, growing things and the sweet scent of flowers. I turned towards the house, but only took a few steps before I was brought back to reality.
“Owner Dax!” whispered a voice urgently in my ear. I shook my head to dispel the intrusion, but the dream was already fading. “Owner Dax, wake up!”
“I’m awake,” I mumbled. “What is it Pipkin?” The storm still swirled around us; I could hear the whine of the wind as it slunk through the cracks and crevices of the outer building.
“Survivalists; the exterior sensors went off.” The little face was creased with digital worry.
“Are you kidding? In this storm? Maybe the wind is making the sensors malfunction.”
“They’re Sand Walkers and that means they’re up to no good, Owner Dax. They have a compound not far from here and often come raiding.” Pipkin pressed his front wheels together in a gesture of distres
s.
“How do you know all this? I thought you’d been powered down for the last few decades.” I could tell I’d hurt his feelings, but I didn’t want to waken the others in a panic, if it wasn’t necessary. A screen on the counter blipped on and I could see the swirl of sand eddies on the grainy image. I stared hard, squinting, despite having put my glasses back on. Sure enough, something on the screen moved. It was almost impossible to tell what it was through the miasma, but the movements were intentional and very human. Sneaky human. “Okay, rouse the troops, Pip.”
The bot went from person to person waking them as gently as possible and we all stood hovered around the screen. I pulled Cedar aside a little.
“Pipkin says they’re Sand Walkers; ever heard of them?” I thrust my chin towards the screen as a few more dark shapes lurked through the sight line.
“Yea, I’ve heard of them. Bad eggs for the most part. They’ve been living off the grid since before the Melt.” She paused, but saw the questions in my eyes and went on. “I think you might know them as Survivalists; at least historically speaking. You know the guys who were anti-government, anti-gun control? The ones that moved to remote locations and set up bunkers for the third world war – that’s them. They pretty well take what they want and too bad for whoever gets in their way.”
“Great.” I knew who she was talking about, but only from an historical perspective. These people were generally kind of paranoid and heavily armed. There was very little we could do if they found us.
“Pipkin!” The robot had been scanning several images that showed almost every area of the building but he turned smartly as my call. “Do you think we’re safe here?” I was worried about the car. It was all we had and we had left it fully loaded with our supplies and the seed library.
“Do not worry, Owner Dax, I will protect you.” As much as I appreciated the sentiment, how much could one tiny bot do against three or four well armed men? “You are forgetting the 2000D part of my model.” I could have sworn Pip smiled before he hovered out of the room, securing the door behind us. The lights went out as he left and we all sat in the dark, terrified that we’d be found.
“Look, Dax, I don’t want to freak you out, but if they get in to this room, you may have to use your gun,” whispered Cedar. Her breath was warm in my ear and it sent a shiver down my arms. “If it looks like they’re going to overpower us, you have to kill us.” I could feel my eyebrows almost pop off my forehead, but she silenced me with a finger. “They’ll try and take Blossom and I, and then kill you and Jake without another thought, if they can.” She shuddered and I felt the gooseflesh ripple over her skin, where her arm touched mine. “It may not come to that, some aren’t as bad as others, but generally they aren’t good guys.” I wanted to ask why they’d take the women, but I looked through the dim light provided by the security screen and could see her pupils contracted in fear, despite the darkness. Both my gut and my privates reacted accordingly, as I realized her implication. I gave her a firm nod and squeezed her hand. I’d do whatever it took to make sure they never laid a hand on any of us.
On one of the tiny screen images, I could make out three men approaching Betsy. The car slowly faded from the screen and I could see the men walking around the perimeter. Guns poking the empty air before them until one finally jabbed the car’s exterior. I felt for the key in my pocket and smiled fleetingly at the slight bulge. At least we hadn’t made it overly easy for them. Jake and Blossom moved in closer, both to better see the screen and for the comfort that proximity brings. I saw Cedar put an arm around the girl and wondered if I should do the same with Jake. He nudged me with his elbow, to let me know he was okay and close enough to feel safe. We all turned back to the screen and watched the Sand Walkers poke and prod the invisible vehicle, trying to find a way in.
A quick blurred passed in front of the camera and then, without warning, all hell broke loose. The first man vaporised, not ever knowing what had hit him and the other two fell back to defensive positions, hiding under the heavy equipment of the factory line. They were gesturing wildly at each other, but it was impossible to know what they were saying with no sound feed. I heard a crackle from the speaker by the door before a voice floated over the air.
“Leave now with your lives!” the voice commanded. If it was Pipkin, he’d augmented his vocal file, as the sound was rich, deep and menacing. I watched the men exchange glances and one fired into the corner, presumably where the speaker was located. The other made a rude gesture at the camera and fired a shot that just missed. He also vaporized in a flash of light and the streaking object flashed across the screen again. The third man thought better of the offer, dropped his gun and ran for his life; back out in to the storm. Betsy slowly came back in to view and Pipkin’s face appeared abruptly in the camera, a satisfied smile pasted on his bunny face. It wasn’t long before he rejoined us.
“That was…” Jake searched for words, his face glowing with excitement, “that was awesome! You totally decimated those dudes!” The thought was a bit more unsettling for me. What if we pissed off the robot? Was it safe to have that thing around?
“It is regrettable to take a life, Family Member Jake,” intoned the rabbit, like it was repeating a lesson it had been taught in grade school. I thought of his fleeting image on the computer screen, once the emergency was over. “I am programmed to protect my owner and his family at all costs. I did offer the intruders an alternative, which they failed to accept. It is my hope that the other man will keep well away from now on.”
“Fat chance!” snorted Cedar. “They’ll be back with more men and more weapons, now that they know the car is here. They must be from that cave we passed. We’ve got to get out of here and soon.”
“Leave?” queried the bot, as if it had never considered the idea before.
“Yeah, get out of Dodge. Besides we have to get to the coast before we run out of supplies.”
“You’re going to leave me?” The little bunny face fell and Blossom reached over to pat it on the head causing the bot to thump its rear foot rapidly.
“So what, you can’t come along?” asked Jake looking at me with a hey-Dax-can-we-keep-it kind of glance. I shrugged.
“We’ll talk about it later. There’s no way we can go out with the storm like this. Let’s try and get some rest. I don’t think they’ll be back tonight and we’ll have a long day tomorrow if we want to lose them.” I gave Pipkin a reassuring grin and let him settle in next to me, one of his wary digital eyes on the security screen and the other scanning the resting forms of his new family. Even with his vigilance, I only dozed the rest of the night, my dreams forgotten in the attack.
Chapter 14 – On the Run Again
The sand storm still swirled around us as we finished breakfast and loaded ourselves in to the car. Thankfully, it had never morphed in to a full fledged smog storm, but it was still dangerous for us to leave our shelter. We debated staying in the factory to wait it out, but Cedar felt the storm would better cover our tracks and Pipkin made some computer modifications to Betsy so she could better filter out the fine grit, making it safer, as long as we kept moving and got out of the miasma quickly. It was a risk. Sometimes storms could last days, but Pipkin’s sensors seemed to indicate that the storm should pass soon.
I looked more closely at Cedar as she levered the storage crate in to the back of the truck. I already knew better than to ask if she wanted help and her mood seemed darker than usual. I’d heard her toss most of the night and thought she might have had a nightmare, as she had called out sharply at one point. She looked pale and drawn and I couldn’t help but think that it had something to do with the Sand Walkers. I kept my own counsel hoping that there’d be a better time to ask her about it, but for the moment, in light of her expression, I was happy to stay quiet and keep her from ripping my head off my shoulders.
As we drove through the gloaming of the storm, we relied heavily on Pipkin’s sensors to take us in the right direction. He must have had some i
nternal compass and every fifteen minutes or so would confirm or correct our direction. The bot sat on the dashboard like an animated air freshener, twitching his ears in one direction or another listening to God only knows what.
“So, uh, Pipkin?” said Jake, his voice muffled with embarrassment, like talking to a bot was somehow uncool. “Why a rabbit? Why not a dog or something?”
“Strictly a practical choice, Family Member Jake. A smaller body needs less energy and my ears act as solar and wind panels. It was also decided that a rabbit, particularly a small adorable one, would not intimidate customers unused to the concept of pets.” His statement was clinical with no hint of vanity which I guess meant he didn’t understand the concept of ‘adorable’.
“Yeah, lasers are so much less scary than sharp teeth,” quipped Jake. He had a point; how ridiculous is a stealth bunny? But then again, who would suspect a weaponized stuffed animal? “What other functions do you have?”
“I do not understand the question,” replied the rabbit, managing to look puzzled. I guess my question was a computer version of ‘why do you exist?’
“What can you do? You have lasers and can manipulate computer data. You also have some sort of guidance mechanisms and can fly, so what else?”
“I do not know,” answered Pipkin, the whir of his processor indicated that he was searching for a response. “I have several thousand programs, which activate on necessity. I only know that the appropriate program will run based on the existing circumstances.”
“Cool!” Jake seemed not just satisfied with the answer, but enthralled by it. The idea didn’t sit well with me.
“So you have no idea what you’re going to do, until a situation presents itself?” I prodded.
“I suppose that is a valid statement, Owner Dax. I am programmed to take commands from my owner and any other person my owner gives license to. Beyond that, I rely on my logic interface to decide the best course of action.” I guess it was the best answer I was going to get at that point, but I don’t know how much I trusted a program, written by some squint, however many decades ago, to make the right decision in a bind. Call me a Luddite if you will, but this thing, the bot, had serious fire power and I suddenly had to trust that some nerd, who probably never left the lab, had programmed the thing properly.
Last Farmer: Last Farmer Series - Book 1 Page 13