CHAPTER 44

THE RUNAWAY

“Your son will be fine,” said Loudwing. “You know how they are at this age.”

“I do not know,” said Roz. “Please tell me how they are at this age.”

“Oh, right. Well, Brightbill is growing up fast. It’s only natural for adolescent goslings to be a little… moody. He just needs to be alone for a while. You’ve raised a wonderful son. I know he’ll come home soon. Try not to worry.”

But Roz did worry. At least, she worried as much as a robot is capable of worrying. Brightbill had never run away—or flown away—and suddenly Roz was computing all the things that could go wrong. A violent storm. A broken wing. A predator. She had to find her son before something bad happened.

There was only one place Brightbill could have gone. The robot gravesite. So Roz galloped northward. She leaped over rocks and ducked under branches and charged through meadows without ever slowing her pace. She raced all the way across the island until she finally stepped onto the sea cliffs above the gravesite.

And there was Brightbill. Perched on the edge, looking at the robot parts scattered on the shore below. His eyes were wet.

“Don’t be angry!” he said as his mother walked over.

“I am not angry. But you should not have flown off like that. You could have gotten hurt, or worse. I was worried sick!”

“I’m sorry, Mama.”

“It is okay,” said Roz. “It is only natural for goslings your age to be a little… moody.”

“Mama, I need to understand what you are. And I think it might help to see those other robots.”

“You are right—it might help. Why are you not down there?”

“I was about to go,” said Brightbill, “but I got nervous. I want you to go with me.”

“Let us go down there,” said Roz. “Together.”