CHAPTER 45
THE DEAD ROBOTS
The gosling floated on the breeze beside his mother as she climbed down the cliffside. Down they went, past ledges and seagulls and tough little trees, until they were standing on the rocky shore with the cliffs looming behind them.
The gravesite had changed. Roz’s crate was gone, lost to weather or waves. Some of the robot parts were gone too. Other parts were gritty with sand, or were tangled in seaweed, or were inhabited by small, scuttling creatures. One smashed torso still had a head and legs attached. Roz and Brightbill huddled around the corpse and studied the mess of tubes spilling out.
“This thing used to look like you?” said Brightbill.
“Yes, we are the same type of robot,” said Roz.
“And now this robot is dead?”
“Will you ever die, Mama?”
“I think so.”
“Will I die?”
“All living things die eventually.”
The gosling’s face scrunched with worry.
“Brightbill, you are going to live a long and happy life!” Roz laid a hand on her son’s back. “You should not worry about death.”
The gosling’s face relaxed. And then he pointed to a small, round shape on the back of the dead robot’s head.
“What’s that?” he said.
Roz leaned in closer. “That is a button, which is a knob on a piece of machinery that can be pressed to operate it.”
Brightbill began pressing the button.
Click, click, click.
“Nothing is happening,” he said. “Probably because this robot is dead.”
Click, click, click.
“Mama, do you have a button?”
Brightbill watched as his mother’s head turned all the way around and a small button came into view.
“You’ve got one!” he said. “I never noticed it before!”
“Neither did I,” said the robot.
The gosling giggled. “Oh, Mama, you have so much to learn about yourself.”
Roz reached for the button on her head, but her hand automatically stopped before she could touch it. She tried with her other hand, but it automatically stopped as well.
“It seems I cannot press the button,” she said. “Would you like to try?”
“What will happen?”
“I think that I will shut down. But I think you could simply press the button again to restart me.”
“You think?” squawked Brightbill. “What if you’re wrong? What if you wake up different? What if you never wake up? Mama, I don’t want to shut you down!”
Roz turned her head back around and saw that Brightbill’s face was once again scrunched with worry. She knelt beside him and said, “Of course you do not have to shut me down! I am sorry if I scared you. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” Brightbill sniffled and wiped his eyes. And then he heard splashing. Otters were playing in the ocean. He had never seen otters before. He stared as they swam and dove and sloshed around with one another. They seemed to be having a ridiculous amount of fun, and suddenly the gosling was smiling again.
“Hello, my name is Brightbill!” he shouted over the waves. “And this is my mama! Her name is Roz!”
The last time those otters had seen Roz, they had thought she was some kind of monster. But since then they’d heard that she was remarkably friendly and that she’d even adopted an orphaned gosling. And so the otters smiled at Roz and Brightbill. Then they swam straight over and splashed onto the rocks.
“Hello there!” said the biggest otter. “Nice to meet you both! Actually, Roz, we’ve met once before, but you might not remember me. My name’s Shelly.”
“I do remember you,” said the robot. “But I am glad to learn your name, Shelly.”
“You know each other?” said the gosling.
“These otters were the first animals I ever met,” said Roz. “They were also the first animals who ever ran away from me.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” said Shelly as the other otters sniffed the robot’s legs. “You know, Brightbill, when we first saw your mom, she was packed in a box and surrounded by soft squishy stuff…”
Brightbill’s brow furrowed.
“You wouldn’t believe how small she looked, all folded up in there…”
Brightbill’s nose sniffled.
“We thought she was dead, but when we reached into the box, she came to life and climbed out looking like a sparkling monster!”
Brightbill’s eyes welled up with tears, and then he felt his mother scoop him into her arms. “Are you okay?” she whispered in his ear.
“I think I’ve learned enough about robots for today,” he whispered back.
“I am sorry, otters,” said Roz, “but we really must be going.”
“I hope I didn’t upset the little guy!” said Shelly. “I thought he’d like to hear how we first met.”
“Brightbill will be fine,” said Roz, using a friendly voice. “But we have had a very busy day and we should go home. It was nice to see you again. Good-bye!”
Roz turned, and with her long strides, she carried her son away from the gravesite and over to the base of the sea cliffs.
“Would you like to sit on my shoulder as I climb?” said the robot.
“I feel like flying,” said the gosling. “I’ll meet you at the top.”
Brightbill flapped his wings and disappeared into the sky. Roz began scaling the wall. Up she went, expertly negotiating rocky columns and ledges, until she hoisted herself onto the clifftop, where two young bears were waiting.