by Peter Brown
“I guess this is it,” said the robot. “Thank you all for being so kind to me.”
Annabelle sniffled and said, “I really hate good-byes.But I’m glad you’re going home where you belong. I just wish there was some way I could be helpful.”
“Actually, there is something you can do.” Roz unsnapped a pocket of her tool belt and took out the Transmitter. “You can hold on to this for me. Hopefully it will take a few days for Mr. Shareef to realize I am gone.” Annabelle smiled as the robot gently tucked the small device under her collar.
Lily and the other calves suddenly swarmed around Roz and nuzzled her legs. They all had tears in their eyes. Tess wanted to lighten the mood, but she couldn’t think of anything funny to say.
The other cows called out to their friend.
“We’ll miss you, Roz!”
“Get home safely!”
“Don’t forget about us!”
Roz waved to the herd. She said a silent good-bye to all the farm machines, parked in the shed. Then she followed the driveway out to the fields, with Brightbill on her shoulder and the children at her side.
The last good-bye was the hardest of all. Everyone was quiet as they walked through the silvery moonlight, past rows and rows of sprouting crops, and out to the farthest corner of the farthest field. Roz turned and faced Jaya and Jad. She looked past them, back to the distant lights of the farm buildings.
“I have prepared the farm for my departure,” said Roz. “It will take care of itself for a while, but not forever.”
“We can manage things, at least until we get another robot,” said Jad. “This place won’t be the same without you, but we’ll be okay.”
“What will you tell your father?” said Roz.
“That’s for us to worry about,” said Jaya. “You just worry about getting home.”
Roz glanced down at the tool belt strapped across her chest. “Would you like this back?”
“No we would not!” said Jad.
“It was a gift just for you!” said Jaya.
The girl pulled her brother and her robot into a big, tight hug. Beneath the sounds of the crickets were the sounds of the children crying.
“How will we know you’ve made it home?” said Jad.
“We need to know how your story ends!” said Jaya.
The robot muttered some animal words to her son and then said to the children, “If a goose ever visits this farm and presents you with a feather, you will know that I am home.”
The children smiled through their tears and waited for their friends to leave. But the robot didn’t move. More than anything, Roz wanted to go home. And yet she was conflicted. She cared about this family, and this farm, and now she was abandoning them. The robot lurched forward, then backward, again and again, as her computer brain struggled with all of these thoughts and feelings.
Finally, the children gave her the gentle push she needed. “Roz, we order you to run away.”
And the robot did as she was told.
CHAPTER 50
THE FREE ROBOT
At long last, Roz was free! But as she ran away from Hilltop Farm, she didn’t feel free. She felt something more like fear. She feared being seen and captured and destroyed. She feared for her son’s safety. So Roz camouflaged herself, she avoided the fields and kept to the trees, and with Brightbill as her guide, she carefully crept north through farm country. The wild robot’s long journey home had begun.
CHAPTER 51
THE AIRSHIP
The sun was up and our friends were on the move. They were traveling quickly and quietly along a narrow strip of forest that cut between vast crop fields. If not for that nagging fear of being spotted, it would have been a very pleasant hike.
Wind whispered through the leaves.
Insects hummed and chirped.
Farm machines rumbled in the distance.
And then there came a new sound. A buzzing sound. Our friends hid in the underbrush as an airship rose up from the horizon, ahead of them. It was a sleek white triangle, flying low and fast. Roz adjusted her vision and saw familiar robots gazing out the front window. RECO 1, RECO 2, and RECO 3 had been destroyed back on the island. Perhaps these robots were RECOs 4, 5, and 6?
“They’re flying toward Hilltop Farm,” said Brightbill.
“We need to keep moving,” said Roz.
The airship disappeared to the south and the travelers continued north at a faster pace. They hurried through more strips of forest, passing squirrels and birds and groundhogs and other friendly creatures. But the robot and the goose had no time to chat.
Later that day, the trees came to an abrupt end. Roz and Brightbill stood at the forest edge and faced an ocean of wheat. The wheat was still young and green. It gently waved in the wind, and spread out as far as they could see.
“What should we do?” asked Brightbill.
“We need to keep moving,” said Roz, staring across the plains. “But I am not safe in the open. There must be more trees out there somewhere.”
“I’ll take a look,” said Brightbill, and the goose launched himself skyward. Up, up, up he went, high into the air, until he finally stopped and floated, just a tiny winged shape against the blue, and then he dove back to his mother.
“There are trees in that direction,” said Brightbill, pointing. “It’s far, about thirty minutes at top speed.”
“Then we had better get started,” said Roz.
Our friends burst out from the underbrush, the robot sprinting through the field, the goose flying by her side. Roz had to concentrate to keep from slipping in the soft, muddy soil. But she stomped on, and far ahead, another line of trees slowly climbed into view.
Brightbill suddenly swooped up and out of sight as his mother kept running. Then he lowered back down beside her and squawked, “The airship is returning!”
Behind them, a tiny white triangle rose up from the horizon. It was growing larger and louder by the second. If Roz was seen, her newfound freedom, and her life, would be over. She couldn’t take any chances.
“Go on without me!” hollered the robot, and she dropped to the ground.
Brightbill hoped his mother knew what she was doing, and he flew on without her. Once he reached the trees he perched himself on a branch and looked back. His mother had vanished. The airship, however, seemed to fill the sky. Its shadow flitted across the ground where Roz had just been. But the ship didn’t see her, and it detected no electronic signal, so it kept going, racing above the trees and over the next field. Its engine noise gradually faded, and it disappeared to the north.
“You can come out, Ma!” squawked Brightbill from his branch.
A column of wheat stood up in the field. The robot had rushed her camouflage, and it crumbled off her body when she started to march. As she approached the trees, Roz looked at Brightbill in the branches and said, “We need to keep moving.”
CHAPTER 52
THE SCOUT
Would the airship return? Were the RECOs hunting for Roz? Was it only a matter of time before she was caught? It was impossible to know. So our friends tried not to worry about those troubling questions, and they continued sneaking through farm country, from one wooded area to the next.
Roz wore a disguise of mud and weeds and bark. At the first hint of trouble she would freeze—and instantly become a rotten old tree trunk. Then she’d wait for Brightbill to tell her that it was safe to move on. If there were humans or robots nearby, she might have to wait for hours.
Back on the island, Brightbill had practiced flying like hawks and owls and sparrows and vultures. He couldn’t fly exactly like those other birds, of course, but he was an expert at diving and swooping and darting and soaring. Now he used those skills to secretly scout out the countryside for his mother. He’d fly up from her shoulder and return a short time later to share his findings.
“We’re coming to another farmhouse. Let’s avoid it by cutting across this field.”
“Beyond these trees is a highway
. Stay here and I’ll tell you when it’s safe to cross.”
“Straight ahead is a small town. But I can lead you around it.”
Brightbill’s advice was always good, and Roz always followed it, and together the travelers safely made their way through farm country.
CHAPTER 53
THE FARM COUNTRY
During their travels, our friends passed every kind of farm imaginable. Some farms grew crops in vast fields and orchards. Others grew crops in great glimmering greenhouses. Some farms let their animals graze through open pastures. Others kept their animals confined to small enclosures. Some farms had old-fashioned barns and sheds. Others had modern laboratories that made meat, eggs, and milk without any animals at all. There seemed to be an infinite number of ways to produce food for humans.
The farms were teeming with robot workers, and Roz couldn’t resist spying on them as she carefully slunk past. The robots worked the fields and machines and livestock, their bodies shining in the sun, shimmering in the heat. This must have been how Roz looked, back on Hilltop Farm. Were any of these robots like her? Were any of them quietly dreaming of escape? Or were they all just mindless machines, content with their place in the world?
CHAPTER 54
THE MOUNTAINS
The flat plains of farm country gradually rolled into hills and valleys. There were fewer crop fields and more forests. The hills grew taller, the valleys sank deeper, the farms disappeared entirely. Our friends had reached the mountains.
Brightbill floated on the wind as Roz climbed the slopes. They passed craggy rock formations and rushing waterfalls and meadows lush with flowers. The robot could have hiked on and on, never slowing or stopping, but the goose needed to rest.
As the stars came out each evening, they found a safe location to settle down. Frost was common in the higher regions, and Roz took the lighter from her tool belt and built small campfires to keep her son warm. They sat around the crackling flames, reminiscing about life on the island, until Brightbill drifted off to sleep. As the sun came up each morning, they’d clear away all traces of their campsite and set off again, deeper into the mountains.
Eagles perched on jagged cliffs.
Fish splashed through gurgling streams.
Chipmunks bickered in the thick undergrowth.
It felt good to be back in wilderness. But this place wasn’t home. So the travelers kept a brisk pace. The robot adjusted her camouflage to match her surroundings. In the forest, she wore leaves and tree bark. In the meadows, she wore grass and wildflowers. In the rocky terrain, she wore dirt and weeds. Even way out there in the wilderness, she wanted to go unseen. What Roz didn’t realize was that she was already being watched.
CHAPTER 55
THE ATTACK
Wide mountain meadows made the robot nervous. While hiking through them, she felt exposed and easy to spot. Camouflage helped, but it was hard not to notice a walking clump of wildflowers. Especially one accompanied by a goose. And it was in one of those wide meadows that trouble caught up with our friends.
From the corner of her eye, Roz sensed movement. She turned but saw only tall grass blowing in the breeze. Then a twig snapped, but the sound was swallowed by a distant roll of thunder. It wasn’t until the wind changed and a musky scent wafted by that the robot understood the danger.
“I smell wolves,” whispered Roz.
Brightbill’s eyes grew big and round, and he whispered back, “What should we do?”
Before Roz could reply, two wolves leaped out from the brush. They charged toward the robot, snarling and snapping their jaws. Roz heaved her son toward the sky so that he could fly to safety, and then she burst into a sprint. The robot zigged and zagged across the meadow, trying to shake off the wolves. But when she dashed through a patch of soft ground, she slipped and toppled into the grass.
The wolves quickly surrounded their prey, heads low, ears drawn back, deep growls rumbling through their teeth.
“Remember us, Roz?” said the huge male with the scar.
“Hello again, Shadow,” said the robot, slowly getting to her feet. “And I believe your name is Barb.”
“You have a good memory,” said the female wolf.
“Actually, I have a perfect memory,” said the robot.
“And yet you’ve forgotten your rifle.” A toothy smile appeared on Shadow’s face. “You aren’t so tough without your rifle, are you?”
Barb sniffed the breeze. “Where’s your pet goose?” And then she saw Brightbill perched in a lone tree in the middle of the meadow.
“He is not my pet,” said Roz. “He is my son.”
Shadow chuckled. “We’ve heard the stories about the robot mother and her son, the goose. They’re very touching.” He turned and barked, “Join us, Brightbill! We’d love to meet you up close!”
“Stay where you are, son!” hollered Roz. “I will take care of them!”
“You’ll take care of us?” growled Shadow. “No, Barb and I will take care of you.”
The robot’s computer brain hummed as it tried to make a plan. The wolves were stalking toward her—any second now they would attack! Roz had to do something, anything, so she stalled.
“Shadow, Barb, is it just the two of you?” Roz scanned the meadow and saw no other wolves. “Where is the rest of your pack?”
Well, that was the wrong question to ask, because the fur on Shadow’s back stood up and he snarled, “This is my pack now!” Then the wolves pounced.
But Roz wasn’t there. With all the strength in her legs, the robot launched herself up and away, and now she was soaring through the air in a long, graceful arc. Once her feet stomped back to the ground, she launched herself up and away again. With giant, arcing strides, the robot bounded across the meadow in the direction of her son.
At first, the wolves were baffled by the robot’s strange escape. But they were expert hunters. They raced after her, studying her closely, watching where she landed. And when Roz made her final leap toward Brightbill’s tree, a heavy paw knocked her off balance. She tumbled through the air and slammed against the trunk. Leaves shook loose, dead branches crashed down, but the robot held tight to the tree.
“Are you okay, Ma?” said the goose as he fluttered to his mother’s side.
“Just some light scrapes,” said the robot, and she pulled herself onto a sturdy branch.
Below the tree, the wolves were howling with laughter. “Nice try, Roz!” said Shadow. “But you can’t outrun us. Wolves are built for chasing!”
“You are wasting your time,” said the robot. “You cannot eat me, and you will never catch my son.”
“You still don’t get it, Roz,” growled the wolf. “I’m not hunting you for food. I’m hunting you for revenge.”
CHAPTER 56
THE TORCH
Our friends were stuck in that tree. They sat in the upper branches, high above the wolves, trying to calculate an escape. Brightbill could fly off whenever he liked, but Roz had to come down eventually. And when she did, the wolves would be ready.
Shadow and Barb stretched out in the shade. They glanced around and licked their fur and sniffed the mountain air. The wolves looked comfortable, and yet there was tension between them.
“I’m hungry,” growled Barb. “I want to eat rabbits and deer, or maybe go back to farm country and prey on livestock. Anything is better than hunting a creature that can’t be eaten.”
“You can eat all the animals you like,” said Shadow, “after we kill the robot.”
Barb grumbled with frustration. She didn’t understand Shadow’s need for revenge. But for now, she stayed loyal to her mate.
Day turned to night, and the wolves started yawning. Barb’s eyelids became heavy. Shadow’s body became weary. Then the soothing song of the crickets lulled them both to sleep.
The sight of sleeping wolves reminded Roz of those long winter nights on the island, when wild animals crawled into her warm home and slept. She remembered the frightened look in their eyes as th
ey saw fire for the first time. And this gave Roz an idea.
Quietly, she broke off a dead branch from the tree trunk. Then she took the lighter from her tool belt and held a flame under the branch’s knobby end until it was blazing. And then she
dropped
down
to the ground.
Shadow and Barb snapped awake to find the world bathed in orange light. Towering above them, looking like a demon, was the robot. Her eyes were glowing. Her mouth was roaring. In her hand was a torch, flames rippling, embers whirling into the air.
The wolves had never seen fire. It was beautiful, and it was terrible. Deep inside, they felt their wolf instincts telling them this ball of swirling light was dangerous. Their instincts told them to run for their lives, and when Roz lunged toward them, they ran. Barb yelped, Shadow whimpered, and the two wolves raced away from the fire just as fast as they could.
CHAPTER 57
THE STONES
At first light, Roz nudged Brightbill awake, and the travelers continued north through the mountains. The goose stood on his mother’s shoulder as she marched. His eyes darted around nervously, searching for any sign of the wolves. But the wolves were gone. And our friends turned their attention to a new problem.
The weather out there was always changing. Roz and Brightbill had seen many calm, sunny days suddenly turn to wind or fog or sleet, or even snow. Our friends expected bad weather, so they hardly noticed when heavy rain came sweeping down a valley. But there was something odd about this rain.
Brightbill squinted at the oncoming storm and said, “Ma, why is the rain bouncing off the ground?”
Bouncing rain? That didn’t seem right. The robot’s computer brain went to work and she found the correct word. “That is not rain,” she said. “That is hail.”