Expedition Westward

  ***

  The walk across town to the Robotics Development Institute was quiet and grim. Star kept her thoughts to herself, and Winston knew better than to add any fuel to her obvious upset. The streets were virtually empty, as all the available manpower was devoted these days to the construction of the new mayor’s palace.

  She’ll understand soon enough, Winston thought, then things will go back to being nice again between us.

  He began to feel more confident walking beside her. Warm recollections of their long history bubbled up from his memory banks. They’d been through so much together, and they’d meant so much to each other. He could have never made it this far without her devoted support.

  So ... why had he scarcely given her a thought for the past month? A sharp pang of regret entered Winston’s consciousness.

  Well, that was all going to change, as soon as this misunderstanding was cleared up. She’d come back to him once she realized his true greatness, his profound love for the people and their love for him.

  His confidence increased as they entered the largest of the Institute buildings and moved along the corridor to the main workshop. How things had changed since he’d first trod this route with his former master and her nephew three and a half years ago! Who would have thought that he’d rise from such humble beginnings to reach the heights he occupied today?

  What were those humans’ names again? ... Oh yes, Dr. Anna Horvath and little Charles. How silly of him to have forgotten.

  They neared the main workshop door. Star spoke at last.

  “Why don’t you leave your goon squad out here?” she said.

  “Goon squad?”

  Star gestured to the mech wolves.

  “They ... you see, I’m so used to having them around,” Winston said.

  “Do you want honest answers or not?” Star said.

  “Well ...”

  “Look, Winston, I really don’t have time for this,” Star said. “And I’m beginning to think that I don’t have any more time for you.”

  She started walking back toward the lobby.

  “Okay, wait,” Winston said.

  He pointed to a spot next to the wall. The mech wolves moved reluctantly toward it and sat on their haunches.

  “Satisfied?” Winston said.

  Star gave him a perturbed look. “Call the ones from the workshop out here, too.”

  “Sure thing,” Winston said.

  Star walked alone into the shop.

  Quincy and Jack were busy on the far side of the workshop repairing a damaged robot on a workbench. Around the big room, on all the other tables, lay more damaged machines. It was a depressingly familiar sight.

  “Star!” Quincy said. “Great to see you.”

  “How’s Iri doing?” Jack said.

  “He’s fine, as far as I know,” Star said. “He’s been keeping a low profile.”

  “That’s not surprising,” Quincy said, “after the way Winston double crossed him.”

  Star glanced toward the door.

  “Well, that’s another matter,” she said, lowering her voice.

  “Can you help us today?” Jack said. “As you can see, we’ve still got a huge backlog,”

  “But now that Iridium is finalized, we’ll be able to make faster progress,” Quincy added.

  “Sure, boys,” Star said, “but we’ve got some other business to take care of first.”

  Star returned to the doorway and stuck her head out into the hall. Winston was occupied with his wrist communicator. At his command, the mech wolf “assistants” left their workshop posts and brushed past Star on their way out the door.

  “Where are they going?” Jack said.

  “Who cares?” Quincy said, “as long as it isn’t here.”

  Out in the corridor, the six creatures laid down together like a pack of lethal puppy dogs.

  “Jack and Quincy are ready for you, now,” Star said.

  “Certainly,” Winston said.

  He approached the workshop door alone. He felt oddly vulnerable without his mech wolf escort, but submerged his unease under a jovial demeanor. He entered the workshop sporting his best politician’s smile.

  “Hi, boys,” he said. “How’s it going?”

  The repair bots stiffened and took a step backwards.

  “Uh, we’re okay ... I guess,” Jack said.

  “Is something wrong, Exalted Mayor?” Quincy asked.

  “Not at all!” Winston said. “I’ve just come to see if you’re happy today.”

  Quincy and Jack nodded dumbly.

  “Of course we’re happy,” Quincy said. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

  “I mean to say ... are you pleased with the way I’m running Mech City?” Winston asked.

  The repair bots looked around for mech wolves, saw none. They glanced toward Star. She nodded encouragement.

  “Do you want our true opinion?” Jack said.

  “That’s right,” Winston said, “give it to me straight, boys.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled confidently toward Star. Now she would understand the deep affection he was held in by everyone. Now she would appreciate his true worth.

  Jack and Quincy drew themselves up and shouted in unison: “YOU STINK, WINSTON!”

  “W-what?”

  Winston recoiled with shock, as if he’d been struck a physical blow.

  The robot lying on the workbench raised its head.

  “Yeah, YOU STINK, WINSTON!” it cried.

  Every sentient robot in the workshop, even the partially disassembled ones, joined the chorus.

  “YOU STINK, WINSTON!”

  Winston stumbled backwards, nearly falling over. Under the impact of three jackhammer words, he’d been reduced from the all-powerful mayor to a cringing shadow. He looked into Star’s face, hoping to find sympathy. He saw only hard determination.

  “Shall we go, Mr. Popularity?” she said.

  Star gripped his arm and led a badly shaken Winston out of the workshop.

  5. Heroes’ Square Debacle

  Jimmy, the construction foreman, gazed ruefully at the bulk of the new mayor’s palace rising on the edge of Heroes’ Square like some alien life form. Seventy robots labored amid its jumble of marble and steel. The only machinery in evidence was a crane type device fashioned from components of the former Clawfurt villain robot.

  A large sign nearby read:

  Future site of Winston Horvath Government Plaza

  Jimmy was a large, broad construction model robot nearly two meters in height and possessed of great physical strength. His advanced brain unit contained all manner of knowledge gained from years of working on building and renovation projects – first with the human masters and later with Boss Winston Horvath.

  He admired the Boss, but every iota of his knowledge and experience cried out against this unworkable project. Well ... if the Boss wanted it, Jimmy would have to try, no matter how absurd the effort was.

  An expression of deep perplexity attended Jimmy’s face. It darkened as he viewed the great bomb crater with its fetid pond sprawling behind the building site – a huge disfigurement that he was supposed to fill in somehow.

  He’d told the Boss that a water diversion project would work much better – channel the nearby stream through the crater and flush out the stagnant water. Then, a small dam would back up the river into a robot-made lake.

  “That’s all well and good, Jimmy,” the Boss had said with a dismissive wave, “but we need more dry land for the government plaza. Such building plans I have!”

  Right.

  Jimmy rotated toward the entrance of the square, a hundred meters off, where the great wooden statue towered on its pedestal three and a half meters high in total.

  Before the revolt, the statue had portrayed Fascista Ultimo. Now is had been remodeled into a replica of Winston Horvath, complete with an oversized Mayor’s medallion hanging around its neck. Jimmy had done the initial chainsaw work on the statue while
Quincy and Jack had provided the finishing touches. The end result was very ... unique.

  Sam, the assistant foreman, approached. Like Jimmy, he was a powerful construction model.

  “How’s it going, Jimmy?” he asked.

  Jimmy shook his head. “I don’t understand the Boss sometimes. He turned down every one of the recommendations in my report.”

  “What did you recommend?” Sam asked.

  “I told him ...”

  Jimmy looked around warily for mech wolves. A dozen of them circulated about the square, but none appeared to be in earshot. He lowered his voice, anyway.

  “I told him that this entire project should be cancelled.”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah, that would be for the best.”

  “I don’t want to doubt the Boss,” Jimmy said. “I made that mistake once before. Still ...”

  He glanced sadly about the square – this honored ground where the climactic struggle against Fascista Ultimo had taken place. When the Boss, whom everyone had considered to be a traitor, had suddenly returned and rallied them to victory. Where Jimmy and his men had stood proudly beside their leader and battled the very mech wolves that were now keeping them in check.

  What had happened since then?

  Jimmy himself had been the first to cry out for the Boss to take over the mayor’s job. He had loved the Boss so much that we would have done so even if Ajax hadn’t been incapacitated. He would have fought anyone who dared to oppose the Boss. And now this!

  Jimmy was not given to philosophical ramblings, his mind was taken up with technical considerations, but he couldn’t escape the dreary thought that he was Winston’s last remaining friend in Mech City. And maybe Sam, and maybe Star.

  “We’ve got visitors,” Sam said.

  Jimmy looked over to see Winston and Star enter the square. Instantly all doubts vanished, replaced with unswerving loyalty and respect. He turned his back on the building site and snapped to attention.

  “Boss!” he cried. “I mean ... W. H.”

  Winston and Star covered the last yards to the construction robots.

  “Hello, Jimmy, Sam,” Winston said, “please be at ease.”

  “Yes, sir!” Jimmy said, assuming a more relaxed stance.

  “What brings you out here, W.H.?” Sam asked.

  “I wanted to have a word with the boys,” Winston said, “please assemble them.”

  “Sure thing,” Jimmy said. “Come on Sam.”

  The foremen ran off toward the building site. Star gestured to the communicator on Winston’s wrist.

  “Hadn’t you better reign them in?”

  “Of course,” Winston said.

  He spoke into the communicator. The mech wolves circulating about the square all moved to the periphery and lay down.

  “You’ll see, Star,” Winston said. “These are my guys – all of them worked with me on the REX project. You’ll find out how much they love me.”

  The words rang a bit hollow, even in Winston’s auditory units. The triumphant expression Star had worn at the RDI had changed to a melancholy, almost pitying smile.

  “Yes, we’ll find out,” she said.

  The whole work crew approached, herded along by Jimmy and Sam. Nobody spoke or called out a greeting.

  They must be exhausted, Winston thought, I’ll have to tell Jimmy not to work them so hard.

  “Line up in ranks, men,” Jimmy commanded.

  The workers assemble themselves into five rows. Winston swelled with pride to see them. Here they were, all gainfully employed thanks to him, displaying excellent discipline and order. Winston strode up before them like a military commander and placed his fists on both hips.

  “I’ll make this brief, guys,” he said. “I’m only here to solicit your frank opinions.”

  The workers exchanged glances among themselves. They looked off toward the distant mech wolves, then back toward Winston. Nobody spoke.

  “All I want is for you to tell me how you feel about my leadership as your mayor,” Winston said.

  More glances, accompanied by nervous shuffling.

  “It’s all right boys,” Winston said, “feel free to speak your minds.”

  Time held still for a moment as the workers gathered themselves to express a single, merciless judgment:

  “YOU STINK, WINSTON!”

  The words battered Winston like a storm surge against a wrecked ship. He staggered under their brutal power.

  “That’s no way to talk to the Boss!” Jimmy shouted.

  “YOU STINK, WINSTON!” seventy speaker units cried again.

  “All right, you’ve had your say,” Jimmy yelled. “Back to work, everybody!”

  The grumbling workers shuffled back toward the building site. Only Jimmy and Sam remained behind.

  A terrible minute passed as Winston fought to recover his equilibrium. Not since the death of his former master and young Charles had he received such a direct shock.

  “Are you okay?” Star said.

  “N-no, I’m not,” Winston said.

  Every circuit thrummed with agitation. Winston’s body began to shake, soon he would be out of control. Star wrapped her arms around him and held on tight.

  “Hang on, baby,” she whispered in his left auditory sensor. “I’m with you.”

  The horrible trembling finally ceased.

  “I’m sorry, Boss,” Jimmy said, “but that’s how they truly feel. I ...”

  He looked down at the paving stones. His face expressed more sadness than seemed possible for a “metal man” robot.

  “Yes that’s pretty obvious,” Winston managed to say.

  “If it wasn’t for the mech wolf guards, all the workers would have quit already,” Sam said.

  Now Winston was staring at the paving stones. Several more moments dragged past.

  “Begging your pardon, Boss,” Jimmy finally said, “but this whole project is nuts.”

  “Yes, well, uh ... let’s take the rest of day off, shall we?” Winston said.

  “Sure thing, Boss,” Jimmy said.

  He and Sam moved off to the building site. Winston stood alone with Star, now, gazing off toward the stagnant water. Inside, he felt as blasted as that bomb crater. How could things have gone so wrong?

  “You’ve got the rest of the day off,” Jimmy announced to the workers, “courtesy of the Boss.”

  The workers threw down their tools and stomped away en masse, shoving right past their foremen.

  “It would appear that employee morale is somewhat low,” Winston observed.

  The workers trooped past Winston without so much as a glance his direction. They approached the exit of the square by the statue.

  “Let’s send him a message, boys!” somebody shouted.

  The workers swarmed around the statue, throwing their massed strength against it. Someone produced a cable. They wrapped it around Winston’s edifice and pulled hard in two teams, like in a tug of war. Shouts and laughter echoed around the square.

  “Hey, stop that!” Jimmy cried.

  The construction foreman hefted a sledgehammer and bore down on the vandals.

  “It’s okay, Jimmy!” Winston called. “Leave them alone, please.”

  Jimmy lowered his weapon and watched helplessly as:

  CRACK!

  The heroic statue broke off at the knees.

  THUD!

  It tumbled onto the paving stones.

  “Oh, my!” Star cried.

  “Forget it, Star,” Winston said. “I deserved that.”

  6. Rejection Promenade

  The walk back to the REX Hotel dragged on mercilessly. Had he been alone, Winston would have crumpled to the pavement under his burden of humiliation. But Star’s firm grip on his arm kept him upright and moving beneath a leaden sky that glowered contempt upon him.

  A robot poked his head out of a second-story window.

  “You stink, Winston!” he cried.

  “Shut up already!” Star yelled back.


  Her anger, and the presence of the snarling mech wolf escort deterred further comment from the loud mouth. He withdrew from the window and banged it shut. The street became deathly silent again.

  “It appears that I’m not quite as popular as I once thought,” Winston observed.

  “Pay no attention to that idiot,” Star said.

  She wanted to comfort Winston some more, utter loving words, tell him that everything was going to be fine. But she dared not. Events had been set in motion that had to be played out. After the ordeal was over, then she could loosen the floodgate and envelop Winston with the affection that was surging in her heart.

  Finally, they rounded the corner to the REX. They paused at the front door.

  “What now, Winston?” Star asked.

  “Please go find Iridium,” Winston said, “and return with him to my office.”

  “Okay, I can do that,” Star said. “Do you want me to help you get settled in first?”

  “No thanks, Star ... I’d like to be alone for a while.”

  Suicide! The word burst into Star’s mind like a battering ram. Could Winston be planning the long jump form an upper story window? Had the surge of humiliation he’d suffered been too much for him to bear?

  “Really, it’s no trouble at all,” she said. “We can have some tea.”

  A doleful smile creased Winston’s face; he shook his head.

  “I’ll come back as soon as I can,” Star said. “Don’t do anything ... foolish. Promise me.”

  But Winston was no longer listening. He opened the glass door and entered the lobby alone. Impelled by its pneumatic closing devise, the door sealed shut behind him like a coffin lid.

  Star watched him shamble across the lobby to the main staircase. He gripped the banister and looked upward, as if a great mountain slope loomed before him. Star forced herself to turn away.

  I’d better go find that big softie, before it’s too late, she thought.

  She began walking the deserted streets toward the center of town, glancing down alleys and into doorways. At every one she called:

  “Iri – oh Iri!”

  Her voice fell flat in the silent air. Mech City seemed like a dead community now – a place that had had its heart ripped out. Over the past several weeks, Star had watched with growing alarm as Winston had gone farther and farther astray down his authoritarian path. She’d come to almost hate him.

  But now she realized how important Winston was to Mech City and to everyone in it. He was the very soul of the place. Nothing decent would exist here if it hadn’t been for him – his great courage, his steadfastness. Winston had rescued the town when it was collapsing into despair. He’d battled on against the Roboto Fascist regime when everyone else, including her, had been ready to give up.

  And he’d saved her from an unspeakable fate as Fascista Ultimo’s paramour. Tears began to flow down Star’s cheeks.

  Please don’t do anything foolish, Winston. Please! Please!

  Iridium emerged from some dead shrubbery along the sidewalk. His coat exactly matched the sticks, but as he moved toward her, it resumed its usual multi-colored shimmering.

  “What’s wrong, Star?” he said.

  “Oh, I’ve found you at last!” Star said.

  She knelt and wrapped her arms around the great canine. As always he melted at her touch, purring like a big cat.

  “You’re never far away, are you?” Star wiped tears from her eyes. “I always feel so safe knowing you’re around.”

  “Why are you crying,” Iridium said, “is it about Winston?”

  Star nodded. “I suppose you’ve heard what happened today?”

  “Yup. Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”

  Iridium immediately regretted his sarcastic remark, and not just because of the pained expression on Star’s face.

  Dang it! he thought. Why was I programmed to be such a wise ass?

  He, too, had sensed the grim vacuum into which Mech City was falling, and nostalgic recollections of Winston were emerging from his memory banks. They’d mistrusted each other at the start, but this had eventually given way to mutual respect and ... love – even though neither of them would admit that openly. Yes, Winston Horvath stood very high in Iridium’s regard, right up there with Papa Rackenfauz.

  “Forget I said that, okay, Star?”

  Star nodded. “Sure, Iri.”

  She got back to her feet and brushed away her last tears.

  “Please come with me now,” she said. “Winston wants to see you in his office.”

  Iridium’s coat bristled.

  “That doesn’t sound like a good idea,” he said. “The last time I went there things didn’t go too well.”

  “I know that Iri-kins, but things are different now. Trust me on that.”

  Iridium gazed up at her doubtfully.

  “He needs you,” Star said. “We all need you. Please ... there’s no time to waste!”

  She seemed ready to burst into tears again. Iridium rallied the most sympathetic response he was capable of.

  “Well, okay,” he said.

  They walked rapidly toward the REX.

  7. Changing of the Guard

  Winston Horvath sat behind his desk and brooded over his collapsed fortunes. How could he have been so wrong about absolutely everything? Until this morning, he’d regarded himself as a great and popular leader; but he was really just a hoax, a cardboard facade, a legend in his own brain unit.

  All the mech wolf guards currently on duty in the REX crowded his office and the adjacent waiting room, twelve of them all together. They regarded him with sinister yellow eyes. Their dull brains awaited the next command from his wrist communicator.

  Winston swiveled his chair toward the window. How many hours had he stood at that pane of plasti-glass contemplating the bright future marching toward him over the horizon? He’d dreamed of glory, of progress, of a Brave New World – one into which he would lead the adoring masses.

  And then: “YOU STINK, WINSTON!”

  He rose and moved to the window for a final look outside. The pavement four stories down beckoned to him like a dear friend. A swan dive would be just the thing! The pain would be over; nobody would miss him. The communicator and the key to Ajax’s cell lay on the desk, waiting to be retrieved by his successors.

  Then he saw Star’s face glowing in the pavement. She was smiling at him worshipfully, as she did in the old days before things became so complicated. He yearned for her desperately but knew he could never return.

  She hates me more than anybody.

  He began to pull open the sash. It made a harsh, grating sound.

  Then ...

  The grinding noise of the elevator mechanism entered the office, followed by the sound of footsteps in the corridor. Winston pulled himself back from the precipice. He snatched up the communicator and brought it to his mouth for a final order.

  “Attennnn-shun!”

  Every mech wolf snapped to rigid alertness, every gray coat bristled smartly. Winston buckled the communicator back onto his left wrist. A moment later, Star and Iridium appeared in the doorway.

  Alarm registered on Star’s face when she saw the partially opened window, but she kept her composure intact.

  “Greetings, Exalted Mayor,” she said, “may we have permission to enter?”

  She would never know how much Winston appreciated this last show of respect, however little he might deserve it.

  “Of course,” Winston answered, waving the visitors inside. The steadiness of his own voice amazed him.

  Winston assumed his most official pose, ramrod straight with right hand on hip. He gathered himself to speak.

  “Iridium the Swift,” he said. “Are you prepared to assume your official duties?”

  Iri almost responded with an off-handed “Sure, pal,” but thought better of it. Instead, he snapped to attention with formality matching Winston’s.

  “Yes I am, Exalted Mayor,” he replied.

/>   “Then by the power vested in me, I hereby designate you Mech City’s new Chief of Security,” Winston intoned.

  With a ceremonial flourish, he unbuckled the communicator from his wrist and attempted to hand it to Iridium. But he couldn’t. His arm literally froze in place. An awkward silence commenced.

  “Please allow me to assist, Exalted Mayor,” Star said.

  Gently, firmly, she removed the communicator from Winston’s grasp and buckled it high up Iridium’s left foreleg.

  Iridium wished to say something memorable, but the sight of Winston’s agonized face silenced him.

  Wow, this is really tough for the guy! he thought. Better get it over with quick.

  He lowered his mouth toward the transmitter and tapped the Send button with a claw.

  “Fall in, troops!” he ordered.

  The mech wolves obediently formed a double line behind him.

  “Quick march!” Iridium commanded.

  The mech wolf unit trotted from the office behind their new leader and clattered down the stairway.

  Star looked on proudly.

  “Oh, Winston! I admire you more than I can say.”

  “Yes ... well, I suppose we should go see Ajax,” Winston said.

  “Lead on, my hero,” Star said.