The Assassination of Billy Jeeling

by Brian Herbert

  Starbot picked up the entire chair with Billy in it. For a moment, the robot cradled this man who had created him, this man who was, in a sense, Starbot’s father.

  “Master Billy, you’re going to be all right,” Starbot said, in a loud voice. “Master, come out of it! Come back! Come back!” He shook the chair.

  But Billy continued to struggle in his sleep, still screaming and saying things in gibberish that the robot could not decipher.

  Starbot made a decision to take him somewhere else, to a safe place. He carried Billy and the heavy maglev chair deeper into the vast ship, while simultaneously sending signals for his robotic brethren to get Dr. Ginsberg and take her there immediately....

  CHAPTER 35

  “I want to forgive him for what he’s done to me, but I don’t know if I can.”

  —Lainey Forster, comment to Devv Jeeling

  Lainey had been shocked to be told she was a robot. Devv’s analysis of her blood had been influential in convincing her, comparing it under a microscope with human blood; the samples were not even close to being alike. She’d also seen her name, and Devv’s, on the pages of Branson Tobek’s journals, and after some effort she’d been able to read the handwriting, which said she was not human, except for the small amount of human cellular material that had been used to imprint her.

  Despite the apparent evidence, Lainey had tried to convince herself that it might still be a mistake, that she really was human after all, and should have additional medical tests conducted—but not under the supervision of Dr. Rachel Ginsberg, whom she did not trust. Maybe the information from Devv was all wrong, and she could still conceive a child by Billy. This might have been wishful thinking on her part, and an utter waste of time, but she’d thought of one more test she wanted to do.

  Just to be absolutely certain—or as certain as she could possibly be under the circumstances—yesterday she’d obtained a sample of blood from the body of a maintenance man who had died of natural causes on Skyship, and who had to be human, because he was laid out on a slab in the morgue. Lainey then took the sample to Devv and his microscope, and he’d performed another test for her—one that convinced her beyond any doubt.

  It’s true, she’d thought as she left Devv’s office, crying. I am not human. She felt as if her world had come to an end.

  To find out why Billy had deceived her for years, Lainey had gone in search of him yesterday afternoon, intending to confront him with what Devv had revealed to her. With her sadness turning to anger, and anxious to confront Billy, she’d been in the lobby of his office building, waiting for a highlift. Suddenly sirens went off and police robots rushed in, ordering her and others out of the building. Skyship was under attack.

  Having been given training about what to do in an emergency, Lainey had notified her employees and students via a mindcom, sent from the implant in her brain to theirs. The ones who were reservists would know what to do; they all had assignments. Then she’d rushed to the armory for a weapon, but had been slowed by a throng of humans and robots trying to do the same thing—and even blocking a side entrance that had been reserved for Skyship managers and supervisors. Finally reaching the large main room of the armory, she’d heard gunfire and explosions coming from an upper level, which agitated her, and everyone around her. She’d kept pressing forward with the crowd, trying to get closer to a bank of weapon-dispenser machines on the far wall.

  But just as she’d reached one of the large machines, it flashed that it was out of supply. Within moments, she heard others saying the rest of the machines were out as well. A burly man in construction clothes had grumbled and quipped that he was going to have to find something in his tool box to use as a weapon.

  Afterward, Lainey had found herself on the crowded sidewalks of Skyship, numb and uncertain of what to do, feeling helpless while security police and reservists rushed past. The explosions and weapon fire had been getting louder. Most of the people were adults, but some children were in their midst, and not all of them seemed to be with a parent or teacher. She helped a confused little girl—she couldn’t have been more than six years old—find her mother, who had lost track of her when they were inside a pharmacy. Lainey had always liked children.

  During the attack, a thought had given Lainey small consolation: If she was only a robot, she couldn’t actually be killed or injured. Even so, she’d realized that her simulated responses would make it painful if she were shot or caught in a blast.

  Suddenly, like a wave passing through the throngs on the sidewalks, cheering had begun and then built up to a tremendous, joyous roar. The attacking force had been defeated, its survivors fleeing back to AmEarth....

  ~~~

  Now Lainey sat in the front row of a packed grandstand, watching a gala ceremony in the large central park of Skyship. Devv Jeeling—the robotic son—stood on a raised stage in his blue Security Commander’s uniform, speaking to the assemblage through an unseen microphone. He certainly looked human, but so did she. Lainey felt numb and bitter, didn’t know what would come next in her own mechanized life, a life she had previously thought was her own, but which had really been programmed into her.

  It felt as if her life and soul had been stolen from her. Everything she’d thought was her own—her precious memories, her personal desires, her most secret and treasured thoughts—had been false. She’d thought they were private, her own experiences of a lifetime, but that had not been the case at all, and now she was left with nothing but a collection of artificial parts—and a tiny quantity of cellular material that had been used for imprinting the human personality and physical characteristics onto the machine.

  A man and woman next to her were talking about strange silver blasts of light that defeated the attacking fleet—a weapon they said Skyship must have had in reserve, and used at exactly the right time. They said it had been a surprise to everyone they knew, because none of them had never heard of a weapon like that. Neither had Lainey. And, though she could not stop being upset about what Billy Jeeling had done to her, she was glad that Skyship had survived the onslaught. It served a critically important environmental purpose.

  Peculiar, almost suicidal thoughts had been winding their way through the synthetic pathways of Lainey’s brain. Though knowing full well that she had been programmed by Billy when he built her, she seemed to have a modicum of free will. On the way here, she had tested it by lunging in front of a police vehicle and causing it to skid to a stop, and by criticizing the human policeman’s driving when he stepped out—or at least he had looked human.

  “Shoot me!” she’d shouted at him. “Go ahead! I can’t be killed!”

  The cop had stared at her in surprise, but had done nothing, apparently because he recognized her as one of the managers. As he stared at her in bewilderment, she assumed he was sending a police mindcom to one of his comrades. Impatient to keep moving, she had not waited to see what would result. An interrogation might have been in store for her....

  At this moment, she felt certain that if she wanted to, she could climb onto the stage and disrupt the proceeding that Devv was conducting. She was upset enough, felt betrayed enough by Billy, to do exactly that. Devv seemed so calm and businesslike on the stage, irritating her. Didn’t he care what Billy had done to both of them, all the hurtful lies? Lainey stared hard at Devv, and for a moment she caught his hard return gaze, before he looked away and continued speaking to the audience.

  She’d searched for Billy again today, going to the usual places: his office, the high walkway, his apartment, a favorite coffee shop, and a restaurant. But he was nowhere to be found. She’d left a message for Devv, but he had not returned it. Now he was speaking in his official status, but in reality he was just another smart robot going through his duties on board Skyship.

  Devv adjusted the officer’s cap on his head, then gestured toward four men and two women who stood on one side of the stage. They marched forward, and stood in a row at the front of the raised platform. She focused on one of
them, Yürgen Zayeddi, who stood third from the left, facing the audience. Young Zayeddi had been on a swift upward course since arriving on Skyship. Lainey was his boss, but he seemed to be on his own fast track. In large part this was because he revered Billy Jeeling and wanted to do everything possible to serve him, and protect him. She used to feel that way herself, before their relationship became so complicated, and went sour.

  Devv said to the audience, “We are here to honor the gallant heroes of our successful defense. Some have suggested that I should be among the honorees, but I have declined to receive any award, feeling strongly that it is more appropriate to celebrate those who were not in command.”

  Lainey’s thoughts drifted. She couldn’t help wondering where Billy was. Though angry with him, she tried to think of fond memories. And, when she thought about it honestly, she had to admit there were many. And—though she would rather not feel this way under the circumstances—she had to admit that she still cared deeply for him. She knew Devv had feelings of affection for Billy as well, from their relationship.

  Devv went to the waiting candidates and stood in front of one of them, a tall woman in a sky-blue police uniform. His voice carried over the crowd as he said, “Mona Carr was a member of our defense force when attackers attempted to board Skyship at the main docks, using three commando squads. During the surprise assault, Mona’s commander fell, mortally wounded, and she led the defensive effort in his place, directing her force to hit the waves of attackers with accurate projectile fire, forcing them to retreat.”

  Devv Jeeling pinned a medal and colorful ribbon on her lapel, shook her hand, and then moved on to the man beside her. Devv described him as a technician who repaired a critical electrical system just before the sneak attack, putting some of Skyship’s defensive weapons back online—and they would have fired on enemy warships, if not for the intervention of the mysterious silver blasts that sent the enemy fleeing.

  Yürgen Zayeddi was next, the man who had gotten between Devv Jeeling and Sonya Orr. Devv looked a little uneasy as he faced the audience and spoke about him, obviously trying not to reveal any personal animus he might still hold. It was an awkward moment.

  “This young man joined us as a public relations trainee,” Devv said, “and his talents and hard work earned him a quick promotion to team leader. While taking advanced classes for his new position, he located and killed a saboteur, one of his own classmates who had penetrated our security. And despite his youth, Mr. Zayeddi is an accomplished humbaby pilot, having learned to fly in his previous position on AmEarth, working in a factory. This skill placed him on our list of reservists, assigned to defend Skyship in the event of emergency. That time of need occurred yesterday, when we were attacked without warning by forces of the AmEarth Empire. Mr. Zayeddi, ignoring great danger to himself, flew his small humbaby at the front of a squadron of our defenders, going after a powerful enemy and shooting three ships out of the sky himself.”

  Unable to stop feeling a deep sense of depression that kept returning to her, permeating her awareness, Lainey watched. After the ceremony, she wandered out on the sidewalks, feeling strangely detached from her previous life, and hopeless about the future. The events in her memory were broken into two parts now—the person she’d thought she was, before learning the truth, and what little remained of that now. Her life, like her relationship with Billy Jeeling, had been broken in half.

  A robot is not entitled to feel love.

  In the tree-lined central part, she sat for a time on one of the benches, trying to recover—if that was possible. The park was crowded with adults and children, and she overheard more people talking about the unusual silver beams of light that had apparently been fired from Skyship, defeating the enemy. Even more strange, a man spoke of rumors that Billy had been seen with an eerie silver cast to his eyes.

  If this was true, it suggested to Lainey that Billy Jeeling himself might not be human. She didn’t know how to feel about that startling possibility, didn’t know how to keep up with the constant flow of new and perplexing information.

  She wondered where he was, and worried about him.

  CHAPTER 36

  Often the most vivid of dreams cannot be separated from conscious thoughts. This is especially true when thinking back over time, trying to remember if something actually happened.

  —Observation of Dr. Rachel Ginsberg

  When Billy awoke, he had trouble figuring out where he was. He was lying down somewhere on a soft surface, looking up at a featureless white ceiling, just staring at it, blinking his eyes to get accustomed to the light.

  Then a face drew near, a woman leaning over him, smiling gently. She had silver hair and brown eyes, and looked vaguely familiar, though he could not put a name with the face. “You’ve had a rough time of it,” she said. “Your dream had you trapped, and I had to use everything I knew, and a regimen of drugs, to break you free. You almost seemed to be in a coma, but an odd one, a babbling coma, if such a thing exists. You were talking a mile a minute, but we couldn’t understand what you were saying, and you wouldn’t wake up. There were some identifiable words, but they didn’t seem to form sentences or coherent thoughts. I was quite worried about you.”

  He looked at her dumbly, then remembered. Dr. Rachel Ginsberg. He looked around, realized he was in a room adjacent to his hidden laboratory in the core of the ship, where he had placed a bed years ago, so that he could rest when he was working late on matters involving the robotics of Skyship. The loyal Starbot stood nearby, facing in his direction, his lights blinking in a regular pattern.

  “After not being used much, the bedspread and sheets were dusty, so we had to change them,” she said. She felt his temple, took his pulse. “You look much better. Starbot and I were quite concerned about you. He brought you here, summoned me.”

  Billy nodded appreciatively toward the robot, saw the lights blink excitedly on his torso, as if he were a loyal dog wagging his tail at the extra attention.

  And to the attentive doctor, Billy said, “Thank you.”

  “What were you dreaming about?” she asked. “Or should I ask, what was the nightmare about?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “Just fuzzy details remain. Nothing important.” He was lying to her. The dream remained vivid in his memory, a swath of silver death moving ominously across the surface of AmEarth, singling out his enemies and obliterating them.

  Behind her, he saw a faint glimmer of silver in the air. He found this alarming and favorable at the same time. It was a sign that the space devils—the ones who had not yet entered his body—were still observing him. He needed to lure them in to join the others, and then take action to destroy all of them at once. But how?

  Billy sat up, ordered Starbot to bring his maglev chair to him.

  “Not so fast,” Rachel said, putting up a halting hand to the robot. “Give yourself time to recover, Billy. You need rest. Starbot can bring you whatever you want to eat, and I’ll be nearby to make certain you don’t return to that nightmare.”

  “I don’t intend to return to it,” he said. “Starbot, get the chair.”

  Now the robot moved to comply, and helped Billy into it. As Starbot did this, the robot said, “The creatures are in the air of this room. I can see them now.”

  “I see them, too,” Billy said. He didn’t bother to explain to Rachel, and she didn’t ask, so perhaps Starbot had already said something to her about them. It didn’t matter. She was one of his most trusted confidantes.

  “I’m going to be fine,” he assured her. “Go away now, Rachel. I will summon you if I need you, or Starbot will.”

  “Are you sure you want me to leave?” she said. “I could wait in another room, staying close just in case.”

  “It was only a dream,” he said. “I would have come out of it eventually, though I do appreciate your efforts.” He smiled, put the chair in motion, heading for the adjacent laboratory, where he had a work bench. “Go,” he said again, glancing back at her from the chair
as he went through the doorway. “I’ll be fine. I just want to tinker a little in my lab. It relaxes me, allows me to think.”

  “As you wish.” She sounded hurt and disappointed, but swung her medical satchel over her shoulder, and left.

  ~~~

  At his custom work bench, U-shaped and low so that he could access it from his chair, Billy made adjustments to a machine prototype, a unit that would do human imprinting on his Lazarus series robots with only half the cellular material required in the original unit. Starbot stood on his left.

  “Would you like me to run more tests on this, using my programs?” Starbot asked. “Or is it satisfactory to you now?”

  Billy had not had time to finish constructing the upgraded device yet, but the theoretical programs Starbot had run for him in the design stage indicated it should work. Now he just needed to get the prototype built and load cellular material into it. He had the inside open, and used a pinpoint-laser to connect two sensitive, critical cell readers.

  He paused, knowing he would never have time to complete this project, or another one. It gave him great sadness. He had experienced so much joy in this laboratory, developing various types of robots.

  He would never complete another project, either, solving the glitch in Lainey’s unit, causing her to hear machine noises internally. She was the only one of the Lazarus series to experience this. He had intended to construct a relay unit identical to the one inside Lainey’s body, and hook it up to a simulation program that would replicate her internal senses from her perspective, trying to duplicate what she had described hearing.

  He’d wanted to figure out what was wrong with the Lainey unit, short of dismantling her, and possibly losing important elements of her imprinting—the things about Lainey that were so very similar, and nearly identical to his great lost love, Reanne.