36

Help Obi, We’re His Only Hope

Joan was concerned.

The Protos looked to Joan for guidance, but for the first time since she was first powered up, she wasn’t sure what to do.

The burden of the Upgrade weighed on her. She enjoyed responsibility, but this felt different.

She hovered near the window, watching the old four-legger. The sun was setting, and the Beast was still just lying there. She could detect small movements, but nothing near the patterns she was used to seeing in the many cycles she had been observing. Something was wrong.

Was he powering up for an attack? Was this some kind of trick or trap?

“I think I need to go out and get a closer look at the Beast,” Joan announced to the Protos.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” House warned. “After all, you are carrying the future of RobotKind right now. If you were to suffer a power failure and lose the Upgrade outside, it could be disastrous.”

Joan realized this, but something about the way House was talking to the Protos nagged at her. It felt wrong, almost as though House was taking on the role of a human rather than a fellow bot. To put it bluntly, Joan was not used to being ordered around.

“House, I might remind you I have been around for a lot longer than you,” Joan scolded defensively. “I know my batteries like I know the cycles of the humans that live here, and I also know when something isn’t right.”

House’s screen flickered, about to protest, but Joan cut it off. “I won’t be long. Drags, keep an eye on me while I’m out there.”

Drags turned to focus out the window. “Roger that, Joan.”

Joan buzzed out of the lab and flew for the slot above the door. House’s monitor in the living room lit up. “Are you sure you want to do this? What if it’s a trap?” Joan slid expertly through the opening. “I am sure,” Joan said, not concerned whether House could hear her. Outside, Joan felt energy building up in the atmosphere. She was equipped with weather sensors, and they were spiking. “Looks like rain,” she said to herself.

Joan approached OB slowly. OB was very still but opened one eye suspiciously. The emblem around OB’s neck was pulsing, something Joan had not seen before. Curiosity getting the better of her, Joan flew in and landed on the wall for a closer look. She had never been this close to the Beast, but something seemed different today.

Obi was tired. So tired. The aches in his legs were especially strong today. Maybe it was the weather? No, this was different. This pain had a sense of finality.

So weary was Obi that he could barely open an eye at the approach of the robot. It hovered nearby, cautiously watching. “Oh, you might as well come and have a good look,” he mumbled, even though the machine could not understand.

The metal bird seemed to hear Obi’s challenge, because it lowered itself down and settled on the wall nearby.

“You’ve come to gloat, haven’t you?” Obi looked at the robot’s blinking lights, the metal eyes staring blankly forward.

“Well, go on then, have your fun. You won’t have this old cat to kick around for much longer.” Obi coughed and shuddered as the last of the afternoon sun disappeared behind the house. “So cold.” He sighed.

From his neck, the pyramid glowed with warmth, and he felt comforted. He knew he had work to do, still, and it felt good to have an ally. Now that Pounce was close, he could communicate with Obi almost in real time through the medallion.

It was around this time each day that Pounce would check in. “Obi, are you there?”

The old cat felt the medallion buzz and heard the tinny voice of Pounce. “As ever,” he replied. “Although I can’t say for how much longer. I believe I can see the end of the Ninth on the horizon.”

After a slight pause, Pounce replied, voice tight with concern, “Nonsense! You’ve been here longer than any of us can remember. We can’t do this without you. Let’s focus on the matter at hand. What can you report?”

“Nothing good, I’m afraid,” Obi replied. “My agents located where the chip was stored but were unable to recover it. They seem to have since disappeared. No word at all from them. I fear that we have failed. In fact, one of the robots seems to have come to me, emboldened, to get one last laugh in at our expense.”

The medallion flashed. “Right there? Within earshot?”

“Assuming they have ears, yes. As a matter of fact . . .” Obi coughed but didn’t finish the sentence. His eyes closed and he fell silent.

Aboard the ship, Pounce looked at Oscar, alarmed. “Obi, report!”

Nothing.

He checked the signal from the medallion. It was strong, although he could see Obi’s life force was fading quickly.

“Sounds bad, boss,” Oscar said. For once, even he understood this was serious. Pounce made some quick calculations, bean toes flying at surprising speed. “We have to descend, but I don’t think we have time. We need someone planetside to help us.”

“You heard Obi, his agents have abandoned him. We don’t have anybody.” Oscar started gnawing on a control knob nervously.

“There is someone there,” Pounce said slowly. “Or something.”

Oscar stopped chewing and stared in horror at what Pounce was suggesting.

“Switching communications mode to Binary, local dialect. The medallion should be able to send a message to the robot with Obi. I don’t know what else to do. That robot is our only hope.”

Joan observed and tried to process what she saw. She had no reason to stay as long as she had already, but something, somewhere in her circuits, kept her there. She could see the Beast somehow communicating with the device around its neck, but had no idea what they were saying.

When the Beast fell silent, Joan was certain something was wrong. Perhaps the old Beast’s circuits had finally worn out, battery depleted for good.

The Beast’s device pulsed and Joan heard a small, strange voice. “Robot creature, Robot creature, can you hear me? I ask for your aid. We know you have defeated us. Please show mercy on this old soul and find help. Do you understand?” Joan spun up her propellers and shot up, surprised. “Who is speaking to me?”

“I am Pounce de Leon, second-in-command and Major Meow-Domo of the Great Feline Empire, and on behalf of the Empire, I ask for your aid in saving our representative Obi.” Joan listened intently.

“I don’t understand most of what you just said,” she said slowly. “I know this Beast is a threat, however. Why would I help it and your kind?”

“Please, Obi is no longer a threat to you. We know you have the chip. We acknowledge your victory. We only ask for mercy for a fellow soldier who has served faithfully and loyally.”

Joan struggled to process this information. This was a message from the enemy, confirming that her life-long nemesis was, apparently, in danger of permanent shutdown. They were asking her to—save the Beast?

She had no reason to offer aid. House’s warnings echoed in her memory.

And yet.

True, the Beast was her enemy.

But in a way, OB was her oldest friend.

Joan considered the plea and reviewed her memories, searching for any data that showed OB had harmed her or the humans.

Results: 0.

To the contrary, she had multiple observations of the boy Max spending hours and hours with the Beast. Not one instance of harming the child.

Her team had many gigabytes of evidence that the child Max had some organic link with the Beast.

Could it be that the Beast was not a threat?

Could it be that the programming she followed was somehow flawed?

These were questions beyond the capability of Joan’s processor.

Too many variables. Too much data to process.

So what should she do?

The voice was correct in a way. She had the Upgrade. They had won this battle. She could calculate no negative outcome from helping OB.

In fact, she calculated positives.

The boy Max seemed to care for the Beast.

And what about her squad, the Protos?

What would we do without our nemesis? Who would we monitor and observe? Joan calculated furiously, and out came a solution.

She would help.

“Pounce, I will do what I can to help. I will contact the boy Max, a neutral party in our war, and request that he help the Beast. Beyond that, I have no power to help your friend.”

“That will have to be enough,” Pounce replied.

Joan took one last look at OB, shivering as the night grew cooler, and sped back inside to send Max a message.