A Storied Man

The approaching dogs meant more running.

“Time to ramble through the brambles!” Theo said.

Keith was decidedly less enthusiastic. His pants already shredded below the knee and his skin a little less so, he didn’t need any more brambles.

He sighed and turned to Shelley. “If we do go out again, you’re not allowed to eavesdrop or people-watch.”

“I can live with that,” she said.

“Hey, Keith, can you put our jump portal’s coordinates into that robot and have it lead us there?” Falcon said.

Keith considered it for a moment. With the GPS unit’s circuitry integrated into its own, it could do the job. “Sure. I can do that,” he said.

Keith programmed Falcon’s coordinates into the bot and adjusted its speed so that they could follow. It led off at a fast walk and never broke pace. Everyone else wasn’t quite as steady, slowing for thick underbrush, then jogging to make up ground. The bot continued tirelessly.

“I think we’re moving at a right angle from the dogs,” Keith said. “If they’re tracking us, then at least we’re not moving in a straight line away from them.”

He pulled his backpack around and stowed the bot’s remote in an outside pocket.

“We made a couple of long stops, though, and without any idea we were being followed, we didn’t do anything to hide our trail,” Falcon said.

They kept moving. The forest rewarded Keith with new scrapes and bruises. During a steep downhill stretch, the pounding pace slid his feet forward to repeatedly stub his big toe on the inside of his shoe. He felt blisters forming on the balls of both feet and on his left heel.

The sun broke through gaps in the tree canopy, mottling the forest floor. Keith knew he might appreciate the woods in other circumstances, with a relaxing pace and better shoes.

As they trudged on, the sound of the dogs grew quieter and finally faded in the distance.

“You think we lost them?” Shelley said.

“If we ever even had them,” Keith said. “Hunting’s legal in these woods with permission from the Fullers. They probably were chasing something else.”

The fetcher bot stopped. The remote inside Keith’s pack chirped.

“Say, that tree over yonder is familiar,” Theo said. He pointed to a large oak tree.

Everybody stopped.

“Is this it?” Shelley said.

“We’re at the coordinates Falcon gave me.”

“And that your little robot friend ably broadcast to me,” said a new voice.

They turned to see Agent Wurlitzer, with a shotgun aimed at Falcon. Three bloodhounds lay behind him gnawing rawhide chews.

“I advise nobody to move,” he said. “Really, you should consider using encryption between that thing and its remote control. I’ve known exactly where you were headed for the past 15 minutes.”

“Mechanical sumbitch,” Theo said. “I thought we stopped him, Billy-boy.”

“Your shot paralyzed me temporarily,” Wurlitzer said.

“Great, we’re being chased by an indestructible robot from the future. Not very original.” Shelley said. “I see you still have that hole in your arm, though.”

Falcon darted his eyes over to the oak tree, then back to Wurlitzer. Theo did the same. Wurlitzer didn’t seem to notice.

Keith’s stomach turned. If they made a run for it, what were he and Shelley supposed to do, deal with this guy on their own?

“Now!” Falcon said.

Theo and Falcon ran toward the oak tree, Wurlitzer tracking them with his gun, but Falcon veered off. The agent hesitated, then shot at Falcon and grazed his shoulder. Falcon stayed on his feet and fired the BFG wildly, scattering leaves and dirt over the happily chewing hounds.

The dogs stood and shook off the mess, then went back to their rawhide.

Theo disappeared into a spot just left of the oak tree.

As Wurlitzer steadied the shotgun, Keith’s fetcher bot leaped up and landed on the agent’s face. It covered his eyes and wrapped three legs around his head, three around his neck. Wurlitzer dropped the gun and reached up to try to tear the bot free.

Falcon lowered the BFG as he and the others watched.

Keith marveled at the spectacle of a robot so advanced losing to a basic mechanical servant. Tubes and wires in Wurlitzer’s neck popped through his fake flesh as Keith’s bot squeezed his neck. He pulled at it, but it held fast. He pounded it with his fists, virtually punching himself in the face, without noticeable effect. Unlike a man meeting a similar fate, Wurlitzer made no sound as he struggled to free himself.

Instead, there was only the sound of pressurized gases releasing into the air and the clacking of metal on metal. Keith detected the faint smell of refrigerant and burning wires.

Wurlitzer’s head fell off and rolled to a stop beside a lichen-covered boulder. His body stood for a second or two before falling straight forward to the soft ground, sending leaves and dust into the air.

Keith felt the impact in his feet.

“Wow. That’s a rough way to go,” Falcon said.

“Falcon! Where’s Theo?” Shelley said.

“He jumped.”

“Wow. So, he’s back in your time already?” she said.

“Yes. Probably sitting in his time chamber breathing pretty hard, but he should be fine.”

“That was incredible! How are you not freaking out right now?” Keith said.

“Some of my clients are above board, but there are plenty who aren’t. I’ve seen a lot,” Falcon said. “A robot losing its head is about the best bad outcome I can imagine.”

The fetcher bot tossed aside a few Wurlitzer scraps and walked over to Keith.

“What got into your bot?” Shelley said.

“Just the Asimov rule. At the base of all robot programming is that they must do what they can to preserve human life. It doesn’t go exactly as he wrote in his books, but it’s close.”

“Well, not all of that carried through to our time,” Falcon said.

“You don’t say,” Shelley said.

Falcon walked over to Wurlitzer’s remains, and with a kick sent the head rolling to an abrupt stop against the body. He looked at Shelley and Keith, who shook their heads and wrinkled their brows. They weren’t going to help this time, either.

Falcon worked alone to pile leaves over Wurlitzer’s pieces. He laughed, then stood and arched his back. He grimaced. “One day I’m going to start getting too old for this.”

“You don’t have much time left,” Keith said.

“That’s harsh, Keith. You have to take me to a ballgame or buy me a beer before you can say stuff like that.”

“No, I mean, before you have to go to your time.”

“Oh. You folks from eras gone have a strange sense of humor. Time spent minimizing era contamination is well spent.”

“Will you have to erase our memories or something?” Shelley said.

“Nah. I’ll just hope for the best. Besides, I left my brain wiper at home. Theo and I like to live on the edge.”

Falcon set the BFG on a boulder, then motioned toward the fetcher bot. “My thanks to your little buddy there, Keith.”

“He’s getting a cleaning and a tune-up when I get home. But, um, why did you set that down?”

“I have to step now, and since it wasn’t my time chamber that sent it back here, my jump portal won’t recognize it. It will disintegrate a few minutes after I leave, just like that headless bastard over there.” Falcon said. “Once his portal closes, any weapons he brought with him start breaking down. Time Code Enforcement failsafe.”

Keith liked Falcon. Preparing for his departure was like knowing someone was about to die. Although he knew he would never see him again, he tried to stay upbeat.

He grabbed the handle of Theo’s case and gave it a tug. The heft surprised him. He pulled harder and got it off the ground. “So, what do we do with this?” Keith said.

“I think it’s a lost cause for Theo now,” Falcon said. “Just keep it.”

“Okay, thanks. I guess,” Keith said. “It’s, um, been nice knowing you.”

Falcon smiled as he stood next to the oak tree. “You two did great today. We won’t forget you.”

“Likewise. Bye Bye, Billy-boy,” Shelley said.

“Is there anything you want to tell us before you go back? You know, any detail about the future that might work to our advantage?” Keith said.

Falcon laughed. “Nice try. I’ll tell you this, though. As soon as Cuba opens up, you have to go there for a cup of coffee.”

He turned and walked beside the oak tree, and then he wasn’t there.

“That was insane,” Shelley said.

“Let’s get out of here.”

——-

Keith sat comfortably, vying for elbow room with a large man seated to his left. The woman to his right sat quietly, both elbows drawn in next to her ribs.

It was Shelley.

They sat on an American Spacelines flight, waiting to leave Earth for the first time. The rocket would carry them to the Hemming spacestation, where they would go their separate ways — Shelley to Mars and her daughter, Keith to Prodigia and his sequestered mother.

Theo’s case sat snugly in the overhead bin.

“So, we meet back at Hemming in a month, right?” Shelley said.

“That’s right. We’ll open the case then. Don’t you back out on me, unless you decide to send me a ticket to Mars instead.”

“I won’t.”

“Won’t back out on me, or won’t send a ticket to Mars?” Keith said.

“Exactly.”

“Okay, not funny.”

The thrusters engaged and shook the craft. Exhaust plumed all around, blocking the window views. Keith relented the fight for his left armrest and wrapped both his hands around Shelley’s.

“Here we go,” he said.

Shelley smiled nervously, but with bright eyes. “Time to ramble through the brambles!”

(Update: I changed the parts following the paragraph ending with “he tried to stay upbeat.” Reader Moksha Gren pointed out a major hole in the story, and I tried my best to fix it on short notice and in a hurry (kind of the way I got myself into that situation in the first place. Everything else in this story is just as I wrote it, on the fly.)

This entry was posted on Tuesday, August 28th, 2007 at 11:20 pm and is filed under Drama, Sci-Fi. You may follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed, and/or leave a comment below.