Page 54 of Expedition Westward

52. To the Robotics Development Center

  A half hour of motoring along deserted streets ensued. Rackenfauz drove cautiously, his assault rifle sprawled across his lap ready for instant use. Conversation was at a minimum as everyone kept to their own thoughts.

  Star’s thoughts concerned Dr. Che, mostly.

  It was a tight fit all around. Star was jammed between the passenger window and Jerry Che, and liking it very much. She couldn’t help but look admiringly at him. His Asiatic features were really quite attractive – the fair, but not too light, complexion; the jet black hair; the way the lines around his almond eyes crinkled when he laughed.

  Yes, the sensuously formed eyes, so much like her own. Even when they were filled with rage they were beautiful.

  I could have sex with him! she thought abruptly.

  Che seemed to know what she was thinking, and he patted her knee reassuringly. Star enjoyed his touch ... then a pang of guilt emotion barged into her brain. She glanced back at Winston, but he appeared clueless about her predicament. He was too busy speaking with Dr. Rackenfauz.

  “Did you really intend to pull the trigger back there, Professor,” Winston asked, “or were you just being melodramatic?”

  “I can’t say for sure, young fellow,” Rackenfauz replied. “But when a man’s been alone as long as I have, a quick exit doesn’t seem like such a bad thing.”

  “Don’t talk like that, Edgar,” Che said. “We ‘mech heads’ must stick together.”

  The sound of his voice gave Star an added thrill.

  Damn it Winston, she thought, do something about this!

  But Winston didn’t seem to notice, much less care about, Star’s dilemma. She felt oddly betrayed, although she recognized the essential foolishness of her resentment. Winston was not capable of feeling male jealousy because he wasn’t really a male. Not yet, anyway.

  In the meantime ... a genuine male was sitting pressed up against her, transmitting his warmth through her temperature sensors. Star settled back to enjoy the ride – and her raging libido.

  They drove past a small group of bedraggled human ‘survivalist’ types with scraggly beards, slouch hats, and guns. Dr. Rackenfauz gripped his assault rifle.

  “There goes the neighborhood!” he said. “Get down, young fellow.”

  Winston ducked behind the seat.

  “You never know who’ll want to take a pot shot at a ‘robo-man’ as those loonies call you,” Rackenfauz said.

  The human pedestrians glowered as they drove past. They were a desperate-looking group, but Star couldn’t help feeling attracted to them. She turned in her seat to observe, sticking her head out the window.

  Two of the men nudged each other and waved to Star. She restrained herself from waving back. Even so, Jerry seemed to be highly displeased.

  “More riff raff shows up every day,” he muttered.

  Well, at least somebody here can feel jealous for a lady’s attentions, Star thought with an irate glance toward the back of the cab.

  Winston emerged from behind the seat and looked cautiously out the windows.

  “Don’t worry, young fellow,” Rackenfauz said, “they’re gone.”

  “We also experienced an influx of newcomers in Mech City,” Winston said, “but they were all robotic, including myself.”

  “Ah yes, the good old days,” Rackenfauz said. “I’m starting to feel crowded again.”

  “But didn’t you once state that you’d changed your pro-apocalyptic orientation?” Winston said. “You claimed that you were now interested in locating human survivors.”

  “Get this, Jerry,” Rackenfauz said. “I’m being lectured to by a robot!”

  Rackenfauz and Che laughed, much to Winston’s consternation. He slunk down into his cramped spot and said nothing further.

  A sign appeared:

  Robotics Development Center – 1km

  Rackenfauz turned the indicated direction and drove the final distance to the RDC. They were in a more upscale area now with large, opulent houses and broad avenues lined with dead palm trees. The air carried a faint scent of ocean.

  A nasty surprise awaited when they arrived. The front gate of the RDC had been forced open and spray painted with obscenities.

  Rackenfauz stopped the truck. “Crap!”

  “This is just wonderful!” Che said.

  “Colonel Reyes has lots of men to guard us in jail,” Rackenfauz said. “But send somebody to watch this place? Perish the thought!”

  “We’d better ask him for a security detail,” Che said.

  “Yes,” Rackenfauz said, “right after we get the explosives in place. I don’t trust that gentleman any farther than I can throw him.” He indicated his scrawny right arm. “And that sure as hell ain’t far.”

  “I wasn’t really serious about the explosives,” Che said. “It just sounded good at the time.”

  “Oh ... what a pity,” Rackenfauz said. “I was kind of looking forward to it.”

  Looks like I’m not the only bull shit artist here, Winston thought sourly.

  Rackenfauz drove through the gate and stopped the truck.

  “You know, Jerry,” he said. “I’m thinking of returning to Mech City for a while. By all reports, the RDI has survived virtually intact.”

  “We’d love to have you!” Star said.

  “Yes,” Winston agreed.

  Rackenfauz and Che ignored the robots’ comments. A human-centric hierarchy had clearly been established. Robots only needed to speak when they were spoken to.

  “You’re welcome to join me, Jerry,” Rackenfauz said. “It might be best to give those Space Invaders a wide berth.”

  “Thanks, Edgar, I’ll think it over,” Che said.

  “Let’s see if we can get that gate closed,” Rackenfauz said.

  “Yeah,” Che said.

  The mech heads got out and walked back toward the gate.

  “I’m starting to feel distinctly second class here,” Winston said.

  Now that Jerry was no longer pressing against her with his overwhelming male presence, Star could think much more clearly. She nodded her head, frowning.

  “Was it like this before?” she asked.

  “Yes, but I never really noticed,” Winston said. “It seemed to be the natural order of things.”

  “It didn’t take them long to forget who pulled their chestnuts out of the fire,” Star said. “Without you, they’d both be dead by now.”

  “I liked things a lot better in Mech City,” Winston said. “Dr. Rackenfauz isn’t the only one who’s feeling crowded.”

  Rackenfauz and Che returned, jamming themselves back into the cab. With Che sitting next to her again, Star went back into ditz mode, grinning foolishly as if her intelligence quotient had dropped several points.

  Dr. Che seems to have an effect on her, Winston thought naively. I wonder why?

  They drove through the Robotics Development Center campus. It was larger than the RDI back in Mech City, or it would have been if the all the construction planned for it had been finished. Numerous buildings stood in partial states of completion. Some consisted of no more than steel rods jutting out of the ground waiting for concrete to be poured around them.

  The whole place had a raw aspect. Wind blew over the bare ground, stirring up a thick haze of dust.

  They passed a two-story white building. Che leaned forward to observe it.

  “Looks like my place is still standing,” he said.

  “Let’s check out my lab first,” Rackenfauz said, “if that’s all right with you.”

  “Sure, Edgar,” Che said, “age before beauty.”

  Rackenfauz guffawed. Star smiled vacuously, as if this were the most amusing statement she’d ever heard. They pulled up in front of a medium sized building with a parking lot and a curved drive. What had once been a big lawn sprawled brown and dead.

  “Home sweet home!” Rackenfauz said.

  They all piled out. Winston exited last from his cramped space. Star did
not wait for him but move rapidly toward the front door without him. She seemed upset with him for some reason.

  What’s the trouble with her now? Winston mused.

  He followed the group inside the building to another nasty surprise.

  53. Rough Hospitality

  The lobby had been trashed. The furniture was tipped over, the reception station was in disarray, and broken glass littered the floor. Fuck the World! and other obscenities had been spray painted on the walls in lurid colors.

  “Very educational,” Winston muttered.

  His bourgeois sense of order was totally offended by the mayhem. He took a place near the door beside Star.

  “Oh, Winston,” she said, “this is awful!”

  Her earlier coldness toward him seemed to be gone now, replaced by a child-like trepidation. Winston moved in protectively close to her. Rackenfauz and Che assumed combat crouches, rifles at the ready, and advanced slowly through the lobby. No detail eluded their slit-down eyes.

  “This is a fine kettle of fish,” Rackenfauz said through clenched teeth.

  “Those sons of bitches!” Che snarled.

  Che turned off into the main corridor while Rackenfauz stayed in the lobby to investigate behind the reception station.

  “Maybe we go should wait in the truck,” Winston said.

  “Okay,” Star replied in a very small voice.

  They moved toward the door, but an outcry from Rackenfauz stopped them in their tracks.

  “Whoa! What have we got here?”

  Dr. Che trotted back from the corridor to join Rackenfauz behind the reception station where a young man lay passed out amid a clutter of liquor bottles. A can of spray paint was clutched in his hand.

  “Looks like we’ve got company, Jerry,” Rackenfauz said. “Let’s show him some hospitality.”

  “Sure thing, Edgar.”

  Che kicked the intruder’s backside hard. “Wake up, dick head!”

  The vandal sat up, glancing around the lobby with boozy confusion.

  “Where is everybody?” he said.

  Dr. Che shoved his gun barrel into the young man’s face.

  “Forget about them,” he said. “Worry about this.”

  Che pushed the gun barrel hard under the vandal’s chin, forcing his head back. The young man turned deathly pale. He raised his hands in a gesture of submission.

  “Don’t shoot, mister ... p-please!” he begged. “We were only having some fun.”

  “Fun’s over, punk,” Dr. Che said.

  He grabbed the vandal’s collar and pulled him to his feet. The can of spray paint tumbled to the floor.

  “What do you know?” Che said. “This guy’s an artist.”

  “Fancy that,” Rackenfauz said.

  Che snatched up the can, shook it, considered it for a moment. Then he sprayed a blast of crimson paint into the vandal’s face. The young man tried to cover himself up. He began crying.

  “Oh, dear!” Star said.

  Unmoved by any hint of pity, Rackenfauz kicked the intruder in the ass. Che whacked him with his rifle butt.

  “Not such a tough guy now, are you?” Che said.

  He turned to Rackenfauz. “How about some electro shock treatment for him?”

  Rackenfauz considered for a moment, then shook his head.

  “Nah, not yet.”

  Che looked disappointed, but did not argue with his senior colleague. He brandished his rifle under the vandal’s nose.

  “You get a free ride to the gate this time,” Che said. “Come here again and it’ll go down a lot harder on you. Got it?”

  The vandal was crying too much to speak. He managed a brief nod.

  “Tell your friends the same thing,” Rackenfauz said.

  “Let’s get him out of here, before I blow his head off!” Che growled.

  He and Rackenfauz pushed the young man outside at gun point. Winston and Star moved to the glass doors to observe the three humans get into the truck and drive away.

  “Why did they have to be so rough?” Star said.

  “Perhaps they disliked the young man’s choice of paint color,” Winston said.

  “I never imagined either of them could be so violent,” Star said. “Surely they didn’t act like that before the old world ended.”

  “Times have changed,” Winston said. “There’s room now for all sorts of personality quirks to come out.”

  “I suppose that must be it,” Star said.

  Winston stroked his chin thoughtfully, ruminating on the darker aspects of existence.

  “Fascista Ultimo wasn’t much different,” he said. “Who would have thought a meek little test bed robot like Nilo could be so cruel and power mad?”

  He did not give voice the remainder of his thought: Was I really any better when I had some power?

  Instead, he just stood quietly with Star, enjoying their time together without the overbearing presence of human beings. He wrapped an arm around her waist, noting her softness against his pressure sensors.

  It’s funny, he thought, I used to think the disappearance of humans was a total disaster. Now I kind of miss the ‘good old days’ without them.

  The sound of gun shots jolted him out of his contemplations.

  “Oh, my!” Star cried.

  She nestled closer to Winston.

  “Should we get out of here?” he said.

  “No ... let’s wait to see what happened,” Star said. “Besides, we need to get Rippie.”