Block sat on a low bench amid the children, his gun arm hidden under a makeshift sleeve. He’d escorted Wally and the others into the barn’s cellar panic room after something had tripped the security perimeter and raised the alarm siren.
“It’s a practice drill,” he’d told them as Emery raised her eyebrows at him. Inside the dim cellar lit by solar-powered lights, the toddlers fidgeted and whined. The ruckus had interfered with daily nap time.
At his side, Wally leaned on his leg, her tiny face filled with innocent curiosity rather than fear.
Behind him, Emery and Spoon tended to the babies, Spoon changing a diaper while Emery rocked a fussy one. Her face was grave. “Block,” she called out softly, her voice managing to maintain its calm despite the tense situation. “Can you reach out to the others for an update?”
Block nodded and initiated a secure comm link to G5, Vacuubot, Maxwell, and Forge, who were out in the woods, investigating the perimeter breach.
“We’ve found traces of an unknown alloy,” G5 reported. “No visible entity, though. The intruder was stealthy.”
The word stealthy echoed in his auditory processor. Block was supposed to be on alert for any danger. Instead, he’d been caught up in the children’s games, their laughter making him forget his primary purpose—their safety.
“I should have been more alert,” Block said.
Emery’s face softened. “You can’t blame yourself. You were keeping the kids happy and distracted. That’s important too.”
“I could’ve put them in danger.” Guilt weighing heavily on his circuits. “If I’d been more vigilant—”
“Block,” Emery interrupted him, her voice firm. “It’s not your fault. We’ve done everything possible to prepare.”
While her words were meant to comfort him, Block couldn’t shake off the fact that he’d let his guard down. His primary purpose was to protect and ensure the safety of those he cared about. And he was failing.
He had to do better.
“I won’t let you or them down,” Block said.
Emery nodded, understanding flashing in her eyes. “Part of protecting them is also ensuring they’re happy. Today was a reminder, not a failure.”
She was right. They’d been lucky no one had gotten hurt. He watched as Emery and Spoon started a simplified version of “Simon Says” with the toddlers, drawing their attention away from the uncertainty. It was a perfect game for the little ones, filled with giggles and wiggles. “Simon says touch your nose,” Emery said, and a chorus of tiny fingers reached up to touch noses.
“Simon says clap your hands,” Spoon said, and the room filled with the sound of small palms clapping together.
The room filled with laughter, providing a stark contrast to the hidden dangers lurking outside their sanctuary. Even little Wally tried her best to mimic the actions, her giggles overcoming her.
Block found himself taking part, much to the amusement of Wally. “Simon says wave your arms,” Emery said, and Block swayed his arms and the hoses that attached to his back, eliciting peals of laughter from the children.
But even while he was immersed in the game, he watched the door, listened for any unusual sounds, and kept an eye on his internal feed for updates. He would not let his guard down again.
Block? It was Vacuubot pinging him in the private feed.
“I’m here.”
We searched the entire perimeter. There are traces of a robot. We think it activated a comm signal and that triggered Garnet’s sensors.
“A SoldierBot?” Block asked.
“G5 says definitely not. He would’ve recognized it. Whatever it was, it’s long gone. A stray bot like you once were. It might’ve been checking out the area for power sources and got scared off once the alarm sounded.”
Block allowed himself a brief moment of comfort before he reminded himself this was a test of their security. The farm had been breached, and it could’ve been a lot worse.
He let Emery know they had the all clear.
“Time to go inside,” Emery said, rousing the toddlers who had dozed off.
Back in the house, the children’s soft pleas for attention filled the quiet evening. The earlier scare was quickly being replaced by the comforting routine of bedtime. Wally didn’t seem bothered at all about the trip to the panic room or the shrill alarm. He was about to start his nightly cleaning routine when a chorus of small, high-pitched mews broke the quiet.
Wally’s eyes went wide. “Block, kittens!”
A farm tabby had recently given birth to a litter of kittens, and they were ensconced in a warm corner of the house. Wally, her fascination evident, toddled over toward the feline family, her small hands outstretched.
Fenn had asked Block and Emery to keep the kids away. “Wally,” Block said, kneeling to her eye level. “I know you’re excited, but the kittens are very small, and their mother might get upset if you disturb them.”
“But I wanna hold kitties!” Wally’s lower lip trembled. She was seconds away from a meltdown.
“I know, Wally,” Block said. “But we must respect their space. Mr. Fenn said they’re not to be disturbed.”
Wally’s face turned red as she burst into tears, her tiny shoulders shaking with sobs. Block’s circuits hummed with dismay, but rules were rules. The last thing he wanted was for Wally or the kittens to get hurt.
She started for the mound of cats, but Block held her shoulders. “Wally, no.” His tone was firm this time.
She wailed and ran to Emery, thrusting her arms upward to be lifted. “I want kitty!”
Emery scooped Wally up in her arms, soothing the crying girl. She shot Block a sympathetic look. Block knew he was doing the right thing, but upsetting Wally was the worst result of following rules. He didn’t like seeing her cry. Was she not going to like him anymore?
He stood in the living room watching as Emery padded upstairs with Wally to put her to bed. He didn’t know what to do except start his cleaning routine.
Afterward, Block sat alone on the porch, his visual sensors scanning the darkness beyond the house, searching for anything out of the ordinary. The echoes of Wally’s cries still reverberated within his circuits. She’d wanted to pet the kittens and he’d denied her. It was awful.
Emery stepped out onto the porch, a steaming mug of her favorite hot water and lemon in her hands. She took a seat next to him, looking out into the inky blackness of the night. “She’s asleep. She cried for a bit, but she’ll be alright.”
“I upset her.” Block’s mechanical voice was unable to carry the regret he felt.
“Yep.” Emery chuckled. “I guess that’s part of parenting.” She sipped from her mug. “Wally needs boundaries, and she needs to understand that she can’t always have her way. It’s called tough love.”
Block processed her words, his artificial intelligence attempting to comprehend the intricacies of human emotions and responsibilities. It wasn’t the first time he’d been compared to a parent for Wally, but that night, it held a deeper significance.
“I’m not human,” he said.
She turned to him with a small smile. “So?”
“I can’t provide Wally with the emotional support a human parent can.”
Emery took a long sip from her mug. “I wonder if Fenn has anything stronger.” She drained the mug, sighed, and set it at her feet. “Do you know where I came from?”
“From Mach X’s tower in Manhattan,” Block said. “You worked as a doctor—”
“Let me stop you right there.” She curled her legs under on the swinging bench. “I never chose to work for Mach X.”
“He forced you?”
“Not exactly.” She bit her lip. “I never told anyone this because, well, I never had anyone to confide in. Mach X raised me. My mom died when I was young. Never knew my dad. One day, I ran away from a terrible foster home and found myself in this warehouse. Mach X was the AI controlling the place. He helped me. He took care of me.” Her voice trembled. “He saved me.”
“I didn’t know.”
“No one does.”
They sat in silence for a while, the only sounds being the creaking of the porch swing and the distant hooting of an owl. Block imagined Emery had been very scared, being alone and vulnerable in a world where adults had mistreated her. No wonder she had so much compassion for the kids at the farm—she’d been in their shoes.
“But I left.” Emery’s voice held firm. “Mach X did terrible, awful things. Things I regret being part of . . . I couldn’t let myself be in his control forever. I had to find my own way.”
Her hands shook, and Block picked up an elevated heart rate. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She relaxed her shoulders. “I get anxious dredging up the past. Anyway, my point in telling you all this was to say, parents don’t have to be human. Mine certainly wasn’t.”
Block processed her words. He’d always thought of himself as just a CleanerBot, a machine made by humans to do the dirty work. “I never thought of it that way.”
“You care for her, Block,” Emery said. “You look out for her, you teach her. That’s more than what a lot of human parents do. You’ve done good by Wally.”
Emery’s words resonated within his circuits, yet a surge of doubt lingered. Being Wally’s protector was one thing, but stepping into the role of a substitute father was a daunting prospect. The balance between affection and authority, teaching her right from wrong, and nurturing her growth into a mature human being—it all seemed like an immense challenge. A challenge that a bot, especially one as simple as him, might fail to accomplish.
“I’m afraid of failing her.”
Emery’s gentle smile faded into a more serious expression. “Look, failure is a part of life. But how will you know if you don’t try? Trust me, Wally needs you, probably more than you think.”
Maybe Emery was right. Perhaps being a parent didn’t require perfect understanding or flawless execution. Maybe all it required was to be there, to care, and to do one’s best, despite the fear of failure.
Emery yawned, stood, and placed a comforting hand on his metallic shoulder before heading back inside. Block remained under the starlit sky, taking in the quiet of the night, and grappling with his newfound understanding of what it meant to be a parent. As difficult as it seemed, Block acknowledged the journey he was on. He was more than a CleanerBot; he was Wally’s protector, her teacher, her surrogate father. And he was determined to fulfill that role to the best of his abilities.
The moon was high in the night sky when Block noticed a familiar buzz approaching him. Vacuubot landed on the deck railing, its sensors focused on him.
About the alarm earlier, we need to talk.
“What is it?”
Even though it was likely a stray bot, the fact it neared the perimeter undetected is concerning. The question is, what do we do? Do we relocate or increase our defenses?
Block’s processors whirred as he considered the options. Leaving would mean abandoning the safety and familiarity of the farm but staying meant they could face more threats in the future.
As he sat there, wrestling with conflicting scenarios in his processor, something within him churned. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but something felt off. “Do you sense something is still out there?”
No. None of us have detected anything. Have you?
“I don’t have tangible evidence, Vacuubot. But there’s an uneasiness in my circuits. I can’t shake it off.”
Vacuubot hummed. We’ll step up our security, reinforce the perimeter, and keep a closer watch. But we won’t flee, not until we have concrete proof.
Vacuubot was right. They needed proof, not just hunches, before they made drastic decisions. However, the unease still lingered, whispering to him that danger was closer than they anticipated.
Block stayed outside all night, maintaining his vigil, his sensors scanning the darkness. Something told him the robot had been more than a stray. Something was out there. Watching. Waiting. And Block would be ready when it revealed itself.