Her eyes narrowed. “How did you hear about New Denver?”
“From another robot.”
She studied him. Was she reconsidering, or estimating her chances of overtaking him?
“Move, Rustbucket. I’m only going to ask you once more.”
“I wish you’d change your mind,” he said. “But I suppose I can’t stop you.”
“Smart choice.” She marched past him, and then he reached out, grabbing her shoulder.
She twisted in his metal grip. “Hey, let go!” She raised a fist, cocked her elbow as if to hit him.
He recoiled. “Don’t hurt the baby.” But he didn’t let go of her arm.
“Let go of me,” she hissed.
“Please stay.”
But he detected the venom in her eyes and knew the answer. He yanked her arm forward and latched the handcuff around her wrist, then snapped the other end on his right arm.
Her eyes flashed fury as her lips peeled back.
The next thing Block saw was her fist flying toward his face.
18
After badgering Sammy for twenty minutes to let them continue riding, the intelligent vehicle relented.
Block sat with his back against the rear of the front cabin. The woman soldier rested beside him, secured to his wrist. She stared at her right hand, clenching and unclenching her fist—the one she’d hit him with. Her knuckles were red and raw. “Goddamn, I think I broke my hand. Fucking Tinman.”
Block said nothing. The more he talked, the angrier she became.
She tossed her head back and laughed. “The handcuffs. Holy shit! I didn’t see that coming.” She turned to regard him. “For a clunky, glorified scrub mop, you’re trickier than I thought.”
Sammy had agreed to deliver them to a housing development a few miles away. You’re on your own after that, he’d said.
The lack of a vehicle definitely made things harder, but what choice did Block have? He’d already caused enough damage and gotten Zina killed. He was surprised Sammy had taken him this far.
“When I get out of this,” the woman told him, “I’ll dismember you.”
Block regretted his decision to cuff her against her will. Perhaps he would just let her go at the first house. But he was afraid of what she might do. What if she found weapons inside a home?
The baby girl squirmed and gurgled in the sling. Her legs poked out and seemed longer than the day before, if that was possible.
She glanced at the infant. “You’re going to kill that baby. You know that, right?”
He checked the baby’s temperature. 102.3 degrees.
“Why are you so angry about everything?” He instantly wished he could take the words back, expecting the woman to wail on him, maybe even strike him again. Luckily, her blow had not caused any systems damage. It seemed her hand was hurt worse than his metal faceplate.
She said nothing, just nursed her fist.
“What do you think we’ll find in the houses?” he asked.
“If we’re lucky, some bottles of water. Maybe some food. I’m starving.”
He hadn’t considered she would be hungry, too. It was hard to predict human behavior. They always seemed to need something—food, water, sleep, sex. It must be hard to operate that way.
“There’s food in here,” he said. “Cans are in that box.” He pointed at the one closest to her feet.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” Her eyes brightened as she grabbed the box with her feet and slid it next to her. “You could’ve told me that an hour ago.”
She retrieved a can of something called macaroni and cheese. The picture on the label was yellow and looked like gooey lumps.
“Do you have a knife I can use to open this? Damn bots took my pocket knife when they captured me.”
Block didn’t think it wise to give the woman soldier a knife—even if he’d had one, he wouldn’t hand it over. “Here, I’ll open it.” He simply had to think, and a narrow blade with a sharp, pointed tip slid from the side of his palm.
The woman lifted the can and stared, wide-eyed, as he sawed a circle in the top. With her injured hand, she scooped up a mouthful of cheesy pasta and chewed. “Oh my God. This is the best mac and cheese I’ve ever tasted.”
He listened patiently to her lips smacking until she finished and tossed the can out the open window.
He shuddered, hating the fact they’d littered three times now—first the rifle, then the soiled diaper, and now a can.
She licked her fingers and smacked her lips. “You robots need to know that humans gotta eat, man. Those idiots who captured me didn’t feed us all night and day.”
“Did you know the two men—the other prisoners?”
She ignored him and leaned against the upholstered wall.
After a time, he said, “I’m sorry I had to cuff you. Do you think we’ll find medicine for the baby?”
“Sometimes people kept aspirin in their medicine cabinets,” she said. “Those are in the bathrooms.”
It was the first helpful thing she’d said in a hundred miles. And one of the few times she’d addressed him without insulting him. He spun his head to look at her. “Truce?”
She shrugged. “I’ll help you find water and aspirin to bring the baby’s fever down. After that, will you let me go?”
Block considered the question and decided it sounded like a fair deal. “I agree.” People shook hands when making pacts in the movies. He reached out. “Shake on it?”
“Jesus.”
“To seal the deal.”
She grunted as she lifted her right arm and reached for his metal palm. He clasped her hand in his and she winced.
“Sorry! I nearly forgot,” he said.
They rode in silence for a minute.
“Nova,” she said quietly.
He didn’t know what she meant.
“That’s my name,” she muttered. “Nova.”
“I’m Block.”
“I know.”
The curve of her mouth softened, but she folded her arms and shut her eyes.
19
Sammy veered off the highway and onto an exit that led to a tree-lined country road. Old maple trees with twisted trunks cast shadows on the pavement. There were no signs of humans or robots.
After a few minutes, the van approached the housing development. A decorative sign said Greentree Crossing.
The houses were painted in muted blues and grays and greens. Sloping roofs revealed tall chimneys. The sights reminded Block of the quaint homes he’d seen in movies like Home Alone and Sixteen Candles.
He watched Nova stare through Sammy’s window. Did the area remind her of the movies? Or perhaps she’d once lived in a home like these?
He’d have time to ask questions later. First, they had to locate aspirin and water.
Sammy stopped in front of a ranch-style, faded gray house. Paint peeled from dark green shutters and the neighborhood was eerily quiet, as if time had forgotten about this cul-de-sac.
“This is it,” Sammy said. “Take the box of food. You know I won’t need it.”
“Where will you go?” Block asked as Nova grabbed the box.
“I’m not sure. Maybe west, maybe north.”
“Do you want us to remove Zina’s body—”
“No,” Sammy interrupted him.
Block hung his head. “I’m sorry.”
“I know you are. Good luck out there. Try to stay in one piece.” With that, Sammy closed his side door and sped off.
Block watched as his taillights faded into the distance. He began to step forward, but was snagged as Nova stayed rooted in place like a tree.
She rested the cardboard box of cans on her hip. “So much for your ride.”
“I prefer traveling on foot.”
“Why?”
“I’m nimbler,” he explained. “If someone’s approaching, I can duck into woods or run across fields instead of being exposed on the road.”
“You’re not much of a fighter, are you?
Was she sizing him up? Would she try to overpower him, steal all the food, and cut off his arm to get away? She began walking, pulling him forward.
“How did you get around? Before… this?” he asked as they roamed toward the homes.
“Mostly on foot. Like you. Sometimes we had trucks…” But she cut herself off and glared at him. “Never mind.” They had reached the front of the house. “So, what now? Ring the doorbell?”
“That would be the polite thing in case someone is home.”
“How about this?” She kicked the door three times.
“That’s rather rude.” Block pressed the doorbell, but it made no sound.
Nova reached for the doorknob and found it locked. “We’ll find a side or back door. Those will be easier to get into. Come on.” She tugged him forward, trekking around the side of the house. Bound to her, he followed and glanced at the baby. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed. Sweat beaded on her delicate forehead.
“Does the kid have a name?” she asked, approaching the side door.
“Not that I know of. Hey, what are you doing?”
Nova had tossed one of the cans of food through the door’s glass window pane. Smiling, she reached inside and unlocked the deadbolt and doorknob. “Voilà. That’s how you do it.”
“Breaking and entering. I see you have experience.”
“Shut up and let’s go in,” she said.
Block and Nova sidled into the house and entered a room that contained laundry machines and a large sink. Large bags of cat food were piled near a blue plastic litter box. They pressed on into the kitchen. Several cabinet doors hung open and a box of rice lay on the counter; its contents had spilled, and the grains crunched under their feet.
“Someone left in a hurry,” she muttered. “Start checking cabinets. Maybe they left behind some water bottles.”
After several minutes of searching, they found stale cereal and pretzels, tins of tuna fish, and more rice boxes. Nothing liquid—not even cooking oil which Block could ingest to feed his microbial fuel cell.
“Now what?” he asked.
“Let’s check the bathrooms.” Nova lurched forward, but Block hadn’t anticipated her move. Stumbling forward, he startled the child. The infant began wailing—loud shrieks that came in spurts. Her tiny body shuddered against his chest.
“Next time, tell me when you plan to step forward,” he said.
“How about you uncuff me?” Her eyes narrowed. “Then we won’t have this problem.”
But she would leave. All she wanted was to get away, and he still needed her help—at least until they located aspirin and water.
He left the restraints on.
The medicine cabinets turned up empty. The homeowner had packed up and fled. They checked the next two houses and failed to find drinkable water or medicine, though Block discovered several bottles of lighter fluid which he drained as Nova stared in disgust.
“What the hell? You drink lighter fluid?” she asked.
“Yes. Oils and petroleum-based products power my electrical cell. I have microbes that digest the harmful material.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’d heard there were significant breakthroughs in energy sources for AI, but I didn’t realize you could actually eat something.”
“The design was supposed to help clean up the waste that humans had created. Supposed to help the environment.”
“Right,” she smirked. “Until AI got smart and decided they didn’t need us humans messing about.”
Block hadn’t been a part of that; he hadn’t wanted to hurt humans. If it were up to him, he would still be working at the Drake for Mr. Wallace. “Where did all the people from these houses go?” he asked.
Nova scowled. “Your robot friends with the guns set up highway checkpoints and executed anyone they deemed hostile. They scared the crap out of people. Everyone wanted to get away from the threat.”
“It doesn’t seem fair that they had to leave behind their homes and possessions.”
“Fair?” She stomped on beside him. “Funny. Here I am handcuffed to a robot that’s talking about fairness.”
He said nothing, having anticipated one of her dramatic reactions.
“You know what would be fair? If all you robots self-destructed. If I had my way, I would destroy every last one of you. Then these people could return to their homes.”
Block shuffled forward as Nova kicked in the back door of another house. The baby had stopped crying and he rocked it slightly, swaying side to side.
Night was falling when they entered the fifth house. Bright yellow walls greeted them inside.
“Ugh.” Nova raised her free hand to cover her mouth and nose. “Smells like garbage and rotten fruit in here.”
An ornate bell-shaped cage stood in the corner of the kitchen. In it rested the dry, skeletal remains of a small bird. Bits of yellow feathers woven into a greenish moss covered the dead canary.
“Are you smelling the bird?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Smells worse than that. But who cares? We won’t stay long. Let’s search the cabinets.”
Moving into the kitchen, they searched the drawers. They were getting better at anticipating each other’s moves.
“Nova?” He pulled out a cardboard tray with bundles of cylindrical plastic with clear liquid inside. “These look like the water bottles at the Drake.”
“Hot damn!” She punched his shoulder and uncapped one of the six bottles and guzzled it.
“I must give some to the child.” Block stared at Nova and realized the child couldn’t hold the bottle on her own. “How does she drink?”
Nova wiped her mouth with the back of her free hand. “We can look for a small cup. She’ll have to sip a little at a time.”
They hunted around the kitchen and found a small plastic mug. Block removed the child from the sling and sat her onto a soft couch where her back was supported. Then he poured a bit of water inside and set the cup in front her. The child gazed up at Block’s face and ignored the cup. “Water,” he said. “Drink up.”
But she stuffed two fingers in her mouth and drooled instead.
Next to him, Nova sighed. “You have to show her.” She grabbed the cup and said, “Here, baby. Look at me. Drinky, drinky.” She held the cup to her lips and slurped loudly as she tipped it back and stole a few sips.
The baby’s eyes tracked her movements. She smiled and yelped, then reached out both arms.
“Here.” Nova gently placed the lip of the cup against the child’s mouth. Tiny infant hands grasped the bottom of the cup and she took a sip. “I think it’s working,” Nova said, her voice rising in pitch. Block saw her grin, but she quickly looked away and mashed her lips into a tight line.
“Well done, Nova. How did you know to do that?”
She shrugged. “Must have seen it on TV once.”
“I believe it’s time to feed the child again,” Block said. He removed the can of green beans from his leg compartment and peeled back the lid.
Nova reached into her pocket and produced a spoon. “I grabbed it when I saw it. You can have it. There’s more in the drawers.”
She was continuing to surprise him with her cooperation. Still, he felt uneasy in her presence. “Thank you.” He dipped the utensil into the can and loaded it with a piece of the green vegetable. The girl took the food eagerly and after a few minutes, Nova fidgeted beside him, still locked to his wrist.
“How do we know when the child is full?” he asked.
“She’ll stop eating, genius. Taking care of a baby isn’t rocket science, you know. When she cries, it means she needs to eat or she shit her pants. Pretty simple, if you ask me. Just trust your gut.”
Block didn’t understand and swiveled his head sideways to look at Nova while instantaneously researching her curious statement.
“Oh, wait, I forgot you don’t have a gut,” she said.
“I do, in fact. My specialized microbial cavity processes t
he fuels I consume. Plus, I have sensors that alert me to danger, and sometimes I think of them as my instincts, like humans have.”
“Whatever.”
She drummed her fingers against her knee, and he noticed a long, jagged scar running across the back of her right hand. He wanted to know how she’d gotten it, but he thought better of asking.
“At this rate, it’s gonna take all night to feed her,” she said. “I have to use the bathroom, Tinman.”
“But the baby needs to eat.”
“I fulfilled my part of the deal,” she said.
“But we haven’t found medicine,” he argued.
She pressed her right fist into her knee. “Let me go, so I can do my business, and I’ll search the medicine cabinets. Maybe whoever lived here didn’t leave and that’s why there’s water and other supplies. It’s the first house we’ve visited that wasn’t stripped of food and water.”
Block fed another spoonful to the baby while he considered Nova’s proposition. He wasn’t sure whether he could trust her not to run off.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked.
“It’s just that…” He paused, spoon hovering above the can.
Nova grabbed his shoulder, and nearly caused him to drop the canned beans. She was stronger than she looked. “Look, if I’d wanted to hurt you and free myself from these cuffs, I would’ve done it already. The only thing holding me back is that for some goddamn crazy reason, you’re taking care of this baby, and you’re the only thing keeping her alive right now.”
He turned to the baby and watched as her tiny mouth sucked down more water. Her chestnut eyes, now more alert, stared as they argued.
“Anyway,” Nova continued, “it’s night, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll find the best house and sleep for the night.”
“You promise you won’t leave?” Block asked, pulling out the chip card.
“I promise.”
20
The overcast, dreary sky grew darker as night fell fully. A strong wind gusted, scattering the clouds and clearing a view to shimmering stars high above. Block sat outside the neighboring house. They’d had to abandon the house with the yellow walls and canary cage because Nova had stumbled upon a woman’s dried-out skeletal remains in an upstairs bedroom.
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