I 01001100 01101111 01110110 01100101 You #12

Saturday

Jefferson guided the moving truck back towards the side door of the High School Gymnasium and then he and Albro got out. The back door rolled up and the ramp came down.

“Transform and roll out,” Albro commanded from behind his helmet, sweeping his gloved hand towards the door. Ito led a procession of automatons down the ramp; Gronk coming out last.

“Transformers?”

“Verbal commands was one of the goals of our club, it required the designer to devise strategies before the match since they couldn’t program them during it. You had to know your opponent or at the very least have contingency plans in place.”

“It doesn’t sound autonomous if you’re telling them what to do.”

Albro went to the doors and swung them open, motioning Ito and the rest to go in. “Are football players autonomous? They get calls from the sideline. The end goal was to have that level of autonomy. Our first matches were more like chess, preplanned routes and movements that were very programming intensive. As we developed more sophisticated AI, we could leave more of the problem solving to them. For instance, the first goal keeper unit I built had to be told to block via a verbal command; now Ito does it automatically.”

The vast gym was bathed in light, both from the overhead and from freestanding can lights that bore down on a raised platform. Currently the floor of that platform raced from one color to the next and then into a series of lines. Banners promoting the Duel of the Robotech Masters were hung from the walls, ceiling, and even the basketball hoop. Platforms with cameras were stationed on the four corners of the room and thick, black cables ran to a central booth at the foot of the bleachers.

“Your nemesis went all out.”

“Yeah.”

Jefferson sensed hesitancy in Albro’s voice. “You can beat him, man.”

“Albro!”

Jefferson and Albro’s attention was brought to the knot of men around the central booth, a man in black turtleneck waved wildly.

“That’s Cal.”

“Albro!” Cal motioned for the two to come over.

“I’ve waited long for this day old friend.”

“OK.”

“Why don’t you take off your helmet and Steve…” “Mark,” the man corrected for probably the hundredth time. “Mark… will get you mic’d.”

“Mic’d?”

“Oh, yes! My viewers, at least the premium ones, get the most intimate access to every duel. They’ll hear the strategy, the agony, and the elation of each match.”

“OK.”

“Good, the match starts in an… oh, you brought your little good luck charm.”

“I ain’t nobody’s good luck charm.”

“I was talking to Ito.” Cal bent down to talk to Ito who had followed behind Albro and Jefferson. “Ito, Ito, Ito. I think the second thing I’ve looked forward to all this time is seeing each of your tiny arms being ripped from their sockets.”

Ito raised several fingers on the ends of his manipulators to show he shared the sentiment.

“Delightful. As I was saying, the match starts in an hour. Prepare yourselves gentlemen.” Cal turned and walked off to a curtained off section of the gym.

“I have never wanted so much in my life to slap someone than right now.” Jefferson glared daggers in Cal’s direction.

“Let’s get ready.”

*                                  *                                  *

The overhead lights had been turned off, while the can lights made it impossible to see into the darkness where the audience was filing in. It was a loud, excited crowd that was filling the seats. Albro, Jefferson, and T1N stood in their team box, a raised platform that was behind the goal. The LED display was emblazoned with the logo of the Lectronic Shoppe and the name ROBOTECH MASTER - ALBRO SWIFT shifting from gray to blue and back again. Gwen had had to plead with her uncle to let them use the store as the team’s sponsor. Uncle Sam begrudgingly let them use it, noting that they’d better win.

Gwen had also provided Albro and Jefferson with matching white jumpsuits, also sporting the store logo.

“She thought of everything.” Jefferson said while checking the suit’s fit.

The lights went out and a hush fell over the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” The voice of the announcer broke the silence. “Welcome to the event of this century, the dawn of a new age in entertainment, and you will be the first to experience the Duel of the Robotech Masters!”

“He knows that’s trademarked, right,” Jefferson asked. Albro shook his head, no.

“From the first days of man, he has sought to create life. And now in this new digital age, life has been born.” A screen on the far wall lit up and the image of a robot played across it. “The first were simple, dependent, and meek. Today, however, you will witness the pinnacle of robotics.” The image changed to a giant red robot, a single red eye sweeping back and forth. “Maximillian come forth!”

All the lights went out, save for a single spotlight that shined on the curtained area Cal had went back to. Peeling the velvet away were two great pincers. It strode out on two legs like a bull entering the bullring, strong and powerful. The red eye swept the room, seeming to find all it saw lacking. Secondary arms moved like snakes from the midsection of the automaton, moving with an alluring grace.

“Only one,” Jefferson asked.

“He is a machine breed with a singular purpose,” continued the announcer. “To dominate all others and prove that there can be only one… ROBOTECH MASTER!” With this Calvin Rueben Hanson rose out of the center of the platform, his face showing no emotion.

“Thank you. Thank you. I am excited to share with you the next great thing!”

Albro facepalmed.

“The first duel is especially important to me. My opponent and I were once friends, no, brothers, but then he betrayed me many years ago. He thought he could escape justice but fate deemed that we should finish the duel I was denied. Tonight, I battle a man I once called friend… Albro Swift.”

A beam of light illuminated the suddenly weak kneed Albro. Jefferson and T1N put a hand on his back to steady him.

“You can do this, man. You can beat him.”

Calvin made a flourish with his hands which started a preprogrammed display on the platform’s floor. Patterns of robots moved amongst swirls of color, slowly forming the standard lines of the dueling field. Calvin went up into his team box, while Maximillian stepped out in front of his goal.

“That’s your cue.”

Albro’s mouth was dry but he somehow spit out, “Lead them out Ito.”

Ito gave Albro a sharp nod and then rolled out with five other automatons following behind him. The majority of the past two days had been spent on the four other robots, Ito needing only slight modification. These four, who Jefferson had named Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael, and Michelangelo (he’d even painted colored headbands on each of them), were similar to T1N in design, but much smaller and presumably lighter.

Ito took his place in front of the goal and the four spread out around the field. Leonardo took the offered ball from the match official and again the room fell to a hush.

Albro took a deep breath. His mind raced like it never had before during a match. Obviously it was a combination of the overwhelming feeling of exposure and the countless number of eyes fixed on him. He wanted to run screaming from the room, but one thought kept him rooted. Gwen was somewhere in the stands watching him as well. One last thought of her and then he brought the mental blinders down.

There was only the playing field and the six units now. “Let’s end this,” he said softly.

“Picard Maneuver.”

*                                  *                                  *

And so it begins...

I 01001100 01101111 01110110 01100101 You #11

Friday

In a small wood-paneled room about the size of the average living room located on the second floor of City Hall which served double duty as the city council chambers on Thursdays and the municipal court on Mondays and Tuesdays were arranged four rows of folding chairs facing the folding table behind which the five elder statesmen of the town now sat behind.

In the seats were the full membership of the Royal Order of Free Ladies in their yellow scarves, a smattering of bored citizens, and Uncle Sam who took two chairs. Only the ladies of the ROFL were paying any real attention to Ms. VanLoose as she carried on her impassioned speech against robots in all their evil forms.

“I ask the good council if they can feel safe in their own homes, their own families ever at danger from the grave threat of these creations. These soulless things, allowed free and unchecked will grow into a menace that will overthrow all that is good and decent in this world. We've made too many compromises already; too many retreats. They invade our town and we fall back. They assimilate themselves into our lives and we fall back. Not again. The line must be drawn here! This far, no further!

“I cannot implore you enough, gentlemen. For the safety of all whom live here we must pass this statute to protect our loved one and our own lives.”

The women clapped loudly to the hidden delight of Ms. VanLoose who took her seat with quiet dignity.

“Thank you Ms. VanLoose. Is there anyone else who would like to offer input?”

Sam jumped with a start, racing Ms. Filtcher who hoped to pile the anti-robot sentiment.

“You all know who I am, so I’ll avoid the pleasantries. You also know how rarely I involve myself in the affairs of others, so there’s that. In truth I’d rather not be here, but I cannot sit on the sidelines and watch you all make one of the more stupid mistakes you’ve made.”

The council shifted uneasily in their seats.

“And this is an especially stupid one.”

The chairman of the council looked to speak in their defense, but Sam continued. Sam plucked up the manila folder that had been set and walked up to the council’s table.

“My brother’s a lawyer in California, so I had him look over your little law.” Sam passed papers to the councilmembers. “As you’ll read he’ll be the first to admit that he’s no expert on the municipal law in this state, but in his opinion the law as written is so broad and so vague that you could drive a truck through it. In its broadest interpretation it could be justified that any electronic device falls under the classification of ‘robot’. This probably stems from the fact that most of your can’t even program your DVR’s, which I know for a fact since I’ve done it for all five of you.

“My brother goes on to explain that this law would more than likely result in long drawn out litigation that would cost the city hundreds of thousands of dollars. Seeing as just the other week you were all whining about the budget, I seriously doubt we can afford sidewalks to no-where and lawsuits comfortably.”

“Sam…”

“But wait, there’s more! Certainly my business would be affected by this mockery of justice, but there are others whose business would be impacted, so I took time yesterday to talk to them about it. These are letters from Presidents, CEOs, General Managers, and Owners who business use or plan to use robots in their businesses.” Sam passed a handful of letters to the chairman. “As you can see, several of the city’s largest employers feel this statute negatively impacts them and one even threatens to close should this law pass.”

Sam gave the council time to rifle through the assorted letters, their eyes big as they read.

“I think I’ve made my point.”

Sam made for the door but then stopped. He pulled out a single sheet of paper and gave it to Ms. de Ruiter, the chairwoman of ROFL.

“That is a letter from myself and the other computer repairmen in town, informing you that we will not serve anyone who’s a part of your group.” Sam looked to three women sitting in the back. “You’ll need to pick up your computers by this afternoon ladies and I suggest refraining from communicating with Nigerian royalty in the future because I won’t help you.”

Sam left a stunned room in his wake.

“Mr. Chairman?”

“Yes?”

“I’d like to motion that we table this discussion.”

“Second,” two councilmen said in unison.

“All in favor.” The motion passed unanimously. “And for what length of time should we table this discussion Mr. Bright?”

“Indefinitely.”

“Second.”

The motion carried unanimously.

*                                  *                                  *

“What are you smiling about uncle?” Gwen asked as she watched her uncle walk into the store.

He did not answer right away, instead he casually walked to his chair behind the counter. He then took a moment to settle into his seat, sitting with the air of a king lording over his castle. He finally looked at his niece. “I have met the enemy, dear niece, and I have found them wanting.”

“What did you do?”

Sam smiled, “I simply engaged in the civic process.”

I move a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum. This is the less than exciting political thriller part of the story, that made me think of Star Wars Episode One: The Phantom Menace when I was writing. Aaron Sorkin; George Lucas and I are not, but it was needed to advance the story. The next part is the finale that may come in two parts, not sure since I haven't written it yet. Before the end let me express a hearty thanks for reading!  See you next week.

I 01001100 01101111 01110110 01100101 You #10

Thursday

Jefferson held the door open for T1N and Albro to pass through. They were in the back of the Lectronics Shoppe, Gwen waiting for them next to her uncle. This was Uncle Sam’s domain; shelves full of broken, obsolete electronics, a counter top covered with assorted repair projects, a second counter top with three computers running antivirus programs or disassembled, and of course the tried and true coffee maker still half full with the morning’s pull.

Sam eyed the three who stood uneasily under his gaze. He especially looked over Albro, who had taken off his motorcycle helmet, but still wore his gloves.

“Thank you for letting us use your space, it’ll help a lot.”

“Make sure you inventory everything,” he said to Gwen and then to Jefferson and Albro, “Don’t steal anything.”

It was a warning, threat, and bit of friendly advice rolled into one that both men intended to follow implicitly.

“Well, I’m off. Expect me when you see me.” He picked up a manila folder from this desk, checked to see it was the right one, and started towards the front. Gwen followed and stopped him before he got far.

“It’s not even nine?”

“Indeed it is not.”

“You never leave.”

“Well I have business in town today.” Gwen gave him a puzzled look. “I’ll see you at closing. Ken, you’re in charge.”

“Quick! Quick! Locks the doors,” said the bald headed man who had been watching the baseball game on several sets of TVs.

“Now I know something’s up, you never leave Ken in charge.”

“These are strange days, niece.”

Gwen came returned to the back to find Jefferson, Albro, and T1N in the same place she’d left them.

“Oh, boy.” She opened the door to her left and motioned for them to go in. This half of the back was a large bay that stored extra product, rolls of cable, and the packages waiting for pickup. See the packages Albro turned to Jefferson and asked, “How did you get the day off with such short notice?”

“Get the day off? You make it sound like I need permission.”

Albro and Gwen looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

“Anyway, I’m still waiting for the official story. Unlike some people…” he glanced at Gwen, “I’ve been out of the loop.”

“Let’s start bringing and I’ll explain while we get setup.” Gwen raised the man door to the outside and they started to move in the boxes of supplies out of the U-Haul truck.

“The quick version is, while I was in college my roommate and I started a robot league.”

“Automaton,” Jefferson interjected.

“No, robot. They had to be preprogrammed or remotely controlled. It started with just us and grew to the point that we were having meets with other schools. We had strict rules and it was focused on problem solving not fighting. Where I was drawn to the skill side of the game my roommate, Cal, was drawn to a darker path. Unbeknownst to be me had started his own underground robot fight club. When I did find out things came to a head and we decided to settle it with a duel.” Albro gave Gwen a furtive look, which she caught but pretended not to notice. “But before I arrived, campus security closed everything down and shortly after Cal was expelled. In addition to his unsanctioned use of school property for his fight club, he was also gambling on the results. The University came down pretty hard on him. I blamed me, thinking I was the one that hat ratted him out.”

“Did you?”

“I’d known about the fight club longer than I had let on and we were weeks away from graduating when this all happened. I expected to have our duel and then go our separate ways. Instead he’s hated me for years.”

“Which is why you’ve been hiding! It all makes sense now.”

“Uh… yeah.”

“So how does this duel work,” Gwen asked carrying out the last box from the truck.

“It seems Cal hasn’t forgotten a thing, it’s the same rules we’d agreed to way back then. It’s a mix of skill and fighting. Each player is able to field a team of up to six robots or a team weighing no more than a half ton.”

“That’s interesting.”

“We had that rule because Cal use to build his team out of big, bruisers that could just run you over. A half ton was a good limit that still let him field two of his big robots but kept him from overpowering everyone. It also adds an extra layer of strategy.” Albro started to arrange a miniature playing field in the middle of the floor. “Each team has a goal to protect. Scoring a goal is 5 points, this was how I liked to win. Disabling one of your opponent’s players is worth 3 points, although Cal argued it should be worth more as this was his preferred style. You play to fifteen points or thirty minutes, whichever comes first.”

“So it’s like football?”

“It’s sort of a mix of football and soccer, because you have goalies guarding your goals. But, yes, it is a lot like football.” Albro stood up. “Would you guys like to meet the best goalie in the league?”

They followed Albro into the back of the U-Haul to a tarped mound. With a flourish Albro threw sheet back to reveal Ito, still deactivated.

“Ito?”

“He was the first fully autonomous robot to be fielded. I won every match I played him.” Albro was quiet for a long time and then went down on his knee and switched Ito back on. The two were impossibly still and seemed to be communicating without words.

“I need your help old friend.”

Ito laid a manipulator on Albro’s shoulder.

“Till all are one,” Jefferson whispered reverently. Gwen gave him a side long glance.

I think when I'm done I'm going to make a Geek Reference Check List to see how many I made and from where. Just two days left - Friday and Saturday. I hope you've enjoyed it so far and have shared with your friends and family my quirky little story. Leave your comments and be back next week!

I 01001100 01101111 01110110 01100101 You #9

Wednesday

Albro was in the middle of his bed frame, clutching an allen wrench, and scratching his head when he heard the knock at the door. He rolled his eyes at the thought that it was Jefferson returning for a second time that morning. He had disabled the EyeSpy at the door, but still instinctually looked at where the monitor on the wall would have been had it not been packed away already.

Gronk. Gronk.

He went back to work disassembling the frame when he heard the door again.

Gronk. Gronk. Gronk.

Things had been quiet since Ito had been shut off and put in the garage, so Gronk’s sudden fervency caused Albro to pause. He listened as silence once again settled over the house. Then he heard T1N’s quiet steps and the latches securing the door being moved aside.

“T1N!” Albro started towards the front door. What has gotten into them, he wanted to scream, but instead braced himself for the difficult task of telling Jefferson they were moving. He rounded the corner and then stopped. Gwen stood framed in the daylight.

Albro flushed and then became acutely aware of his appearance. His “Han Shot First” tee shirt was stained at the pits and the pair of jeans he was wearing was a work pair with gaping holes throughout. “I… I… I need to go change.”

He rushed off back to his room, tore the first box he saw open, and threw clothes out onto the floor.

Gwen followed T1N quietly into the empty living room. Gronk rocked from side to side, saying its name over and over again until she patted him on the head. A puff of smoke came out of him and he became instantly silent and still, causing Gwen to wonder if she had overloaded him.

“He probably blew a capacitor.” Albro was back, in a clean ThunderCats tee shirt and intact jeans.

“Does that happen often?”

“Just when he gets excited or at the end of Serenity when Wash dies.”

The two fell silent and then each looked away from the other. T1N stood in the middle, his head moving back and forth between them, and then he went over to Gronk, picked him up, and took him to the front of the house. Albro and Gwen were now alone.

“So… you’re moving.”

“Yeah.”

“Any particular reason?”

Albro looked down at the floor and then seemed to start talking but then stopping himself before even a syllable could come out. Finally, “With the neighbors… I’m just stirring up trouble if we stay.”

“So you’re just running away again.”

“Again?”

“Oh, I know all about it.” Gwen’s voice suddenly became hard and she spoke briskly. “After you ran off at the movie a friend of yours introduced himself. He told me all about your college days. I just wish I’d known all this before…”

“Who…” Albro started to fidget, his eyes swept the room frantically, and he took small steps back towards the bedroom. T1N, sensing his anxiousness moved himself between Albro and Gwen.

The hard mask slipped a little from Gwen’s face and she hesitated before continuing, “Your old roommate, Calvin Rueben Hanson.”

T1N locked his sensors on Gwen and his relaxed posture was replaced by a more ready one; legs spread and arms held up at the waist.

“No… no… no…” Albro muttered as he backed into the wall, his legs gave out, and he slid down it.

Gwen’s face fully dropped its harshness and at once became concerned, even reaching out a hand towards the pathetic figure now curled up into a ball. “What’s going on?”

T1N looked from his master to Gwen and then back again. He then motioned for Gwen to follow, walking back towards the entrance. Gwen followed slowly, watching Albro with one eye and tracking T1N with the other.

T1N went into the office just off the entrance, went to the desk, and then motioned towards the one black screen streaming green text. Gwen peered past the white automaton to read the emerald words, which had slowed so she could read them. Stopping now and again to silently question T1N, who would nod his accent, Gwen read in amazement.

“Oh, no. I’m so, sorry. I told him where he lives. I’m so sorry.” Gwen raced around the corner, tears started in the corners of her eyes. She knelt down in front of Albro and delicately put a hand on his shoulder. Albro was perfectly still and made no indication he noticed being touched.

“I’m so sorry, Albro. I told him where you live. He’s coming here today to challenge you to some stupid robot duel.”

Albro looked up, his eyes haunted and bloodshot; he seemed small and fragile, like a child. “Why,” he whispered, not trusting his own voice.

Gwen struggled herself to speak, her face passing from happy to sad and back again. “I wasn’t going to be hurt again. I felt so stupid for going to that movie… meeting someone I’ve never really met. Then you’re gone and this guy starts talking to me about you… I just didn’t want to get hurt again.”

“I’d never hurt you,” he whispered again.

“Jason wouldn’t have intended to hurt me either.”

Albro, for the first time looked Gwen in the eyes.

“You don’t know me either, Tin Man.” Gwen laughed lightly. “I was engaged once. His name was Jason. He’d joined the Marines right after highschool. He said, ’After this tour I’ll marry you before someone else snatches you up.’ But he never came back.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I didn't leave my house for months. Luckily I worked for my uncle, so I had a job waiting for me. At some point, sitting in a dark house, alone, I promised myself I’d never be hurt again. And here I am, back in a dark house.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

The two jumped when there was a forceful knock at the door.

“It’s him. I’ll take care of it,” Gwen said before getting up. Albro stayed on the floor, shrinking back a little. 

Gwen opened the door, to reveal a very surprised Calvin Rueben Hansen.

“Gwen… what an unexpected surprise.”

“Mr. Hansen, Albro is busy at the moment but I am authorized to inform you that he accepts your challenge.”

Hansen suddenly looked like a drowning man. “You… you told him?”

“Oh, yes. In fact he got right to work; it’s what he’s doing right now.”

“I was under the impression he was running away again.”

“No. The U-Haul there,” Gwen motioned to the truck sitting in the driveway,”…has his spare parts and extra supplies. It’s like he’d been planning for a day like this for a long time.”

“Has he now. I’d like to speak with him.”

“I’m afraid he’s far too busy, something about delicate wiring or some such.”

“Well then, if you could hand him this.” Hansen produced a thick binder labeled DUEL of the ROBOTECH MASTERS. “The rules for the event and his consent form. If he could fax that to my lawyer by tomorrow afternoon there will be no delay in our “business”.

“Robotech?”

“It’s what I’m calling this endeavor. Albro Swift is the first of the Robotech Masters who I will challenge and fight to the delight and marvel of a global internet audience.”

“Isn’t Robotech from something?”

“No, it’s an original idea.”

“OK. I’ll make sure he gets this.” Gwen began to close the door and then stopped. “There is one more thing. He’s going to kick your butt.”

Gwen then slammed the door. Hansen stood comfortably, looking up and down the length of the neighborhood, and then muttered, “Well that was unexpected.”

*                                  *                                  *

“Thanks for coming.”

“It’s worse than I thought.”

“I think he really needs you.”

Jefferson made no indication he heard Gwen, he simply stared at Albro still huddled on the floor.

“Albro.”

“Jefferson.”

Jefferson took something from T1N and then knelt down next to his friend.

“Your finger would remember their old strength better… if they grasped your soldering iron.” Jefferson said as he slide the iron into Albro’s hand. Albro looked at the iron in his hand, then at Jefferson, Gwen, and T1N.

“Where is Ito?” Albro looked around the room. “We have a duel to win.”

An evil grin crossed Jefferson’s face and he let out a wild, “Yeeessss!”

You've just read 1,394 words, of which 1000 I struggled over and still struggle with. Part of me didn't want Gwen to be the one in this scene, but the other half of me knew she needed to be more involved. How does this day work for you guys? Too much? Too little? Not enough robots fighting? Oh we'll solve that one.

Memorial Day

No update to the story today, since its Memorial Weekend. Instead here is a link to a far better article than I could ever write about Memorial Day by Marcus Brotherton.

Marcus is the author of several books that help to fill out the Band of Brother's stories, originally told by Stephen Ambrose. All of them are excellent and I highly suggest you read them. He is also the author of  "Feast for Thieves" coming out in September, the fictional account of a rough around the edges paratrooper turned pastor, which you should also read.

Remember that this holiday was the result of someone dying so you could enjoy long weekends, read silly stories, or be able to write blogs on whatever subject you want, whenever you feel like it. Thank a vet too, they sacrificed a lot as well.

I 01001100 01101111 01110110 01100101 You #8

Tuesday

The house was eerily silent for what was usually the Remington Steele Hour; instead empty boxes were stacked up in front of the black TV screen and first shelf of collectable Star Trek figures was now cleared. T1N carefully placed the still-in-box Dr. Crusher into the bubble wrap and then atop the other crew members of the NCC-1701D - the NCC-1701 box was already filled with her compliment, while the crew of Deep Space 9 awaited their packing. Ito worked in the parts room, his manipulators slowly collecting the assorted parts to pack away in rubber tubs.

“Pick up the pace Ito! Stop dragging your feet.”

Ito waited for Albro to turn his back and then dropped a spanner. The human turned back around and scowled.

“We wouldn’t have to be doing this if you’d just stayed here.”

Ito turned his sensors away from Albro, picking up a round plastic cowling, and then tossed it like a frisbee into the kitchen.

“That’s it!” Albro rushed up to Ito and made for his shut off, but Ito swung his arms in a flurry, striking Albro several times and forcing him away. “Why you little…!”

Albro rubbed his arms, which stung badly and would probably bruise, as he walked back to his office. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you… but this is over! I’m wiping you back to a zero state.”

Albro brought up Ito’s console which displayed the automaton’s log and command line prompt. He had typed in the first three characters when he stopped, his eyes drifting to the log which was filling with five characters - (ToT).

“Are you crying,” Albro asked. Ito had followed Albro into his office and was now nodding it’s sensor. T1N and Gronk were also just outside of the room, watching Albro. “No, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to feel sorry for what you did… what you keep doing! You’ll just do it again and again and again. You’ve had your chances, more than I should have given you.”

Albro finished the shut down command, forcing himself to not look at the log which had been busily displaying Ito’s final plea. The index finger hung over the Enter key for a moment but finally came down and Ito’s log stopped. Finally Albro looked and read the last line.

No disassemble.

His legs gave out and he sunk to the floor. His body shook violently with his sobs and his hands tried in vain to hold back the tears cascading like saline waterfalls.

*                                  *                                  *

Jefferson walked in, put his package scanner on the counter, and slammed his hand down hard. “It isn’t right!”

Gwen, sitting at her desk with her back to Jefferson, tried not to react to the sudden outburst. Uncle Sam on the other hand, despite helping a customer in the front of the store, sent daggers at the ESP driver. Getting up, Gwen handed Jefferson a pen to sign for the packages.

“Maybe there’s a reason he never came out.”

Jefferson nursed the hand he’d slapped down and mouthed an “ouch”, before taking the offered pen.

“And what reason could that be?”

“What do you really know about him? I mean, do you know anything about him? His past? The things he’s done?”

“The things he’s done?”

“All I know is nice guys don’t hide.”

Jefferson slowly put the pen down and locked Gwen with the most piercing stare his momma taught him. “Now you listen here. I may only have known him for a few days, but I can safely say I have never had a better friend than Albro Swift. Most people just brush me off, tune me out, and try to avoid me but not him. Sure I had to force my way in, but once I was in I always knew he wasn’t just humoring or tolerating me. So, whatever his reasons for living alone all these years are his own and in no way detract from him being a man of quality.”

Gwen broke away from Jefferson’s glare, collecting the papers and filing them away. “Have a good day Marcus,” she said without looking at him.

Jefferson’s posture relaxed and his own gaze went down to the floor. Before leaving he replied with a weak, “Have a nice day Gwen.”

Sitting back down, Gwen tried to return to her work but struggled to muscle up the energy. Uncle Sam plopped down into his chair behind the counter and let out a sigh.

“Guess he doesn’t know.”

“Know what?”

“That his man of quality is leaving town.”

“WHAT!”

“Yeah, he called this morning before you came in to settle his bill and cancel his last order.”

“Where’s he going?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t give a forwarding address…” Gwen turned away from her uncle. “…I asked,” he offered.

The two sat in silence, Uncle Sam shifting in his seat uneasily, but he was saved when a customer came into the store and Gwen rushed to the back. Uncle Sam heard the bathroom door slam shut. “Aw, crap.”

Sorry for the delay, had a busy Mother's Day weekend, with my beautiful wife and wonderful mother, but we're back! 

As far as Tuesday; I had a hard time writing the end of this post, trying to figure out what to share about Gwen and Uncle Sam while keeping with the tone of the day. At one point I had them both sharing more, even Uncle Sam trying to push Gwen towards Albro, but it just never felt right. I think at this point Gwen is a mysterious character because we haven't seen why she does what she does, which I hope to bring in and flesh her out more in the next day or two. She is one of the more difficult characters for me, but that's probably because I'm a guy. Really the characters I enjoy writing the most are T1N, Ito, and Gronk because they have so much character which comes out in odd and interesting ways. Just writing "Gronk" and having it mean something different is just good fun.

I 01001100 01101111 01110110 01100101 You #7

Saturday

Jefferson knocked a seventh time and then put his hands on his hips. His black Crown Victoria idled at the curbside.

“We going to do this the hard way, eh?”

Jefferson made his way to the side of the house and after three attempts scaled the fence. Once around the back he instantly spotted the closed curtains and the note taped on the inside of the sliding door.

Go away.

This means you, Jefferson.

“I see how it is.”

Jefferson went back to his car, dug around the glove box, and revaulted the fence after two tries. He wrote something on a piece of paper he’d found in his car and then looked at the door and then back at the note.

“How I’m gonna…” he muttered and then he smiled. He brought the note up to his mouth and then licked it. Jefferson then smacked the now moist note against the glass and then stood back to marvel over his ingenuity.

“How ‘bout them apples.”

Jefferson then left, speeding down the highway but not being pulled over and running into a certain patrolwoman like he’d hoped. Meanwhile, Albro waited until he was good and sure Jefferson was gone before he pulled the curtains aside.

360-527-1…

The rest of the numbers were smudged beyond recognition. Albro shook his head and then let the curtains swing back into place.

Sunday

Nothing happened on Sunday.

Monday

Albro looked up once he realized it wasn’t Jefferson knocking on his door. The EyeSpy was just deploying when he saw it was a police officer and he killed the program. A moment later he opened the door with just the faintest thought it might be some trick of Jefferson’s to get him to open the door.

“Mr. Swift?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Chief Vanderpolitie, Eldon Vanderpolitie.” He held out his hand for Albro to shake, which Albro took hesitantly. “Could I have a word with you inside? It’s about your robots.”

“Uh… of course.” Albro stepped aside and let the policeman in.

The man was instantly uncomfortable in the dark house, filled with strange electronics and toys. Albro led him into the kitchen, turning the light on, and then indicated an open chair.

“This conversation is probably long overdue.” Vanderpolitie said with a small smile. “I understand my predecessor had a talk with you when you first moved to town and your… your robots started to… to come out. Things seemed to be going well and any problems there have been you’ve handled, so it was a case of out-of-sight-out-of-mind.

“There was the Milking incident last year, but Ed never pressed charges and I’m told the cow recovered just fine. I’m sure this situation would probably resolve itself in much the same way, but there are some extenuating circumstances that make both of our lives… difficult.” He chuckled and gave Albro a bigger smile this time. “Before last week’s incident every member of the city council, the mayor and his staff, and my own department received letters from a group of concerned citizens about your…”

“Automatons,” Albro offered.

“Automatons. I’m also told a lengthy opinion piece is going to be printed in the Tribune this Wednesday, directed at you and your… automatons. There is suddenly a great deal of pressure for the city to pass laws limited – if not outright outlawing robots and their ilk.” Vanderpolitie eyed the man across from him who had seemed to shrink into himself. “Now, I have no bone in this fight and like I said, things have been smooth on my side of things beside the two incidents which have probably been the most excitement we’ve had since that lady remotely ‘saw’ a bomb in the bank last year.

“But I have to take public opinion into account and I know there are three council members looking to get reelected this fall who hold public opinion in even more regard than I do. So I’m going to have to make it very clear that until the council decides what to do about robots in general and yours in specific, yours aren’t allowed off of your property and probably should be seen outside if you want it all to blow over.”

“I understand. When could I expect to have them returned to me?” After Ito had been deactivated, the three automatons were impounded by the police.

“Well the one with all the arms has been running a cup across the bars ever since he turned back on and the little trash can has been saying gronk in the most mournfully way possible, so I’d be real happy to have them back in your custody as soon as possible. If it hadn’t happened over the weekend you would have had them returned the next day. All that to say, you’re welcome to come collect them as soon as we’re done here.”

“Thank you.” Albro briefly met the officer’s eyes an d then dropped them again.

“I thank you for your time, Mr. Swift.” Vanderpolitie began to leave and then stopped. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but you’ve created something out of the sci-fi books, so what are you doing hiding here and not working for NASA or something?”

“Oh don’t know… never crossed my mind I guess.”

A crooked smile came on Vanderpolitie and he again held out his hand for Albro to shake. “You take care Mr. Swift.”

“You won’t have to worry about us much longer Mr. Vanderpolitie, I think it might be time to move on.”

Chief Vanderpolitie’s eyes got real thoughtful and mouth turned down as he gave Albro a final look. “Good luck to you then, Mr. Swift.”

I enjoy names and making up or devising character names is especially joyful for me. Our story's hero is named after a road sign on I-5 in Seattle just past the exit for Safeco and the Clink - Albro St. and Swift Ave. The bad guy, Calvin Reuben Hanson, is an old pen name of mine who turned into the bad guy of the long running "Time Cop Cruisers" weeks at FirCreek Day Camp. T1N, pronounced "tin", is 1337 speak. Gronk is named/modeled after a Star Wars droid who says "Gronk", while Ito just came out onto the keyboard and it stuck. This newest character Chief Vanderpolitie makes me giggle and probably a little too much (I believe firmly in the Jason T. Kendall Rule - "Program is for the staff"). Bing or Google Translate "Politie" if you want with the added knowledge that Vander means "of the". I'm such a nerd. 

What to you makes a great name? What are your favorite name(s) and why?