Expedition Westward

  ***

  By late afternoon, the landscape was less severe, except for an occasional steep incline, like the one the vehicle was laboring up now. On the right, a rocky cliff indicated where the road had been gouged out of the hill. On the left, a sharp drop-off cautioned drivers to keep alert.

  They sat in their usual spots. Bert driving, Winston beside him; Star and Ripper in back. Winston consulted his road atlas, shading his optical sensors against a low sun poking through the cloud cover. The old truck labored slowly up the incline.

  “We’ll be turning off this road fairly soon,” Winston said.

  “Uh huh,” Bert said.

  Winston studied the map closely. “I’d say after about ...”

  Bert wasn’t listening, though. His tortured brain was elsewhere – back with the ‘Little Dumplings’ as he’d nicknamed his late masters’ twin girls. They were in his thoughts more and more. As his fury and destructiveness had been reigned in, as these sane robots had exerted their influence on him, the 4-year-old Dumplings had reappeared to visit with their ‘Uncle Bertie.’

  In Bert’s mind, the three of them were sitting on the living room floor again, watching the big wall screen. It wasn’t a horror movie playing this time, but a wonderful flying adventure. They swooped over a beautiful green world as if they had wings, skimming over trees and fields, soaring up into the clouds – laughing, shouting with joy. It was like heaven!

  The Little Dumplings were both in the human heaven now, transported there by the final plague. Would it be possible to join them, if he really believed that he could?

  Why not?

  A smile creased Bert’s mechanistic face. He yanked the wheel violently left, straight for the drop off.

  “I’m coming!” he shouted.

  31. Panic Infusion

  The pleasant afternoon abruptly transformed into a nightmare. Ripper chomped into Bert’s neck, too late. The truck started heading over the cliff.

  “Star!” Winston cried.

  He reached back and grabbed her hand. They tumbled out together onto the pavement. Star’s foot caught on the edge of the truck; it dragged her along.

  “Help!”

  Winston pulled desperately on Star’s arm, they were both going over!

  At the last possible moment, Star’s shoe popped off, liberating her foot from the doomed truck. The vehicle flew into thin air like some horrid bird and crashed into the rocks below without them.

  Winston and Star crawled away from the precipice and wobbled back onto their feet. Winston was so badly shaken that his legs hardly operated.

  “Are you okay, Star?” he said.

  “No!”

  A bolt of panic shot through Winston. His legs started to give out entirely.

  “W-what’s wrong?”

  “I broke a nail!” Star said. “And my blouse is absolutely ruined.”

  “Ohhh.”

  Winston sagged with relief. He grasped Star’s elbow to steady himself.

  “Not to mention my shoes,” Star said. “My favorite pair!”

  “Yes ... that’s too bad,” Winston said.

  His circuits struggled with sensory overload. In moments he’d gone from contentment, to terror, to relief, to even greater terror, then back to relief again. He simply could not muster any emotional reserve to deal with Star’s broken fingernail. He examined himself for damage.

  “Well, I’ve got some nice new scrapes to go with my insect gouges,” he said. “Otherwise, I’m hunky-dory.”

  Now that the danger was over, he felt a surge of anger against Bert. It ricocheted off the rocks, striking Winston on the rebound.

  “That crazy bastard!” Winston kicked furiously at a stone. “Of course he’s crazy – he’s a scrapper. What the hell was I thinking?”

  Star took his arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, honey. All of us were fooled.”

  “I should have never trusted him like that,” Winston said. “What an idiot I am!”

  A pathetic whimpering came from the edge of the cliff, interrupting Winston’s self flagellation. They glanced over to see Ripper hanging precariously onto the crumbling rocks, his head barely poking into view.

  “Poor Rippie!” Star said.

  “Let him fall,” Winston said. “We’re better off without him.”

  Star rushed to the mech wolf.

  “We can’t do that,” she said.

  She grabbed a foreleg and tried to haul Ripper up, but the task was too much for her. Winston reluctantly joined the rescue effort.