Read The Saffron Malformation Online

Authors: Bryan Walker

The Saffron Malformation (12 page)

 

Roll Out and Ride Again

 

 

             
After breakfast, which Quey devoured feverishly in part because he was still starving from the day before and also because it’d been a long time since he’d had bacon that good, he sat back in his chair and sighed.

             
“Will that b-be all, sir?” Botler asked and he nodded.  He still had half a cup of coffee in front of him, which he finished slowly.

             
The Robo-tronics compound was an amazing place but he knew it was time to get on with things.  He had shine to run and a debt to settle and neither of those were things best left till later.  Besides, this place wasn’t home and though the food was better and the beds were cozier it didn’t quite feel right.

             
He watched Botler roll down a hallway, running some robot errand.

             
The company here was suspect too.  There may have been more of it than he got at home but there wasn’t a bit of it he really trusted or understood.  Ryla most of all, strange only began to describe her.  He’d like to be done with this little endeavor—and her—as soon as possible.

             
With that, Quey finished his coffee and went to find the queen of the compound.

             
When he stepped off the elevator and onto the second floor he heard music playing through a speaker system lining the ceiling.  He didn’t recognize the song but it was some sort of rock, loud guitars and drum fills with a man shifting between singing and screaming through them.  There was a bit more melody in the chaos of the song than was usually found in such a tune and as he stood in the doorway watching Ryla he couldn’t help but bob his head a bit.

             
She stood at one of the stations across the room with her back to him, a small bot that was just a simple red egg shape attached to wheels with thin arms hanging off its sides, rested on the table in front of her.

Today she wore a summer dress that was blue with small violets growing on enwrapping black thread vines.  It hugged her slender torso and hung loose from her hips to her ankles.  He watched her lift a tool to the rhythm of the song and sway with the melody before working on a
circuit board.  It was mesmerizing, the fluidity of her movements, a dance of constructing circuits and connecting them to the computer terminal at the station.  Her fingers moved over the holographicly projected keys like those of a pianist, tapping in the board’s new programming while matching time with the song.  When it was done she spun smoothly on her bare feet, her dress swirling around her, and slid each board neatly into the metal frame.

             
She touched the top of the bot and caressed it lightly.  “Now lets finish your face,” she said and took the bot in her arms.  She started for another table and Quey let the door fall closed before she could catch him watching.  She glanced at him briefly while she carried the bot to the painting station.

             
He noted the shift in her.  Her movements remained graceful as she glided across the floor but she was no longer dancing.

             
She positioned the bot on the table and began arranging the paints as he crossed to her and noted her self-consciousness.  “So you are a person,” he muttered under his breath as he approached.  Her eyes glanced, briefly, his way but even if she heard him say something there was no way she’d know what.  “Good morning,” he said with a smile.

             
“Hello,” she replied and stirred white paint with a fat brush.

             
“This guy have a name?” he asked.

             
She smiled, it was the first time he’d seen that and it amazed him.  Her face lit up when she looked at the robot and told him, “I’m going to call him Shy Bot,” as she painted a line of white down its face.  She chuckled at a joke he didn’t get, and Quey smiled uncertainly.

             
“Something funny?” he asked.

             
She shook her head.  “You wouldn’t get it.”

             
Quey nodded and answered, “Reckon I wouldn’t, or plenty more about you strange one.”  Her hand paused mid brush stroke but Quey didn’t notice.  He simply continued on.  “Like how you came to have a place such as this.”

             
Ryla began to paint again, starting with the outline of the round mask and then filling it in.  Her hand moved steady and nimble, caressing an even layer of white over the bot.

             
“Care to shed some light?”

             
Ryla didn’t look at him.  She dipped her brush into the paint twice, in time with the music, then dabbed off the excess in the same way.  “It’s my home.  I was born here,” she said watching her brush fill in the Shy bot’s mask, leaving circles around his lenses.

             
Quey sunk back from her, not really taking a step just leaning away slightly.  He looked around at the robots cluttering the room, some fully functional and others in various states of building or repair.  He looked at Ryla, peered at her, and remembered her companion robot.  It had been close, eerily close to…

             
His mind wouldn’t take the thought any further.  He remembered what he’d said as he approached her and wondered if maybe…  Leaning his head to the left he searched her eyes.  They might get the skin to look real enough, sure he’d heard stories about such things, but they couldn’t do eyes, there was no way.  He’d seen enough death in his time to know there was a difference between eyes with life and those without it, and there was something in life that couldn’t be replicated.

             
Ryla glanced over at him staring strangely at her eyes and she snipped, “What?”

             
Quey jumped slightly and shook his head, looking away.  “Nothing.  I was just…”  But there was no way for him to finish that sentence so he swallowed the end of it.

             
“Just what?” she pressed but her annoyance was gone.

             
He shook his head.  “Curious.”

             
Her brow furrowed ever so slightly and she returned to her robot, trading white paint for brown which she used to paint a thick strap for its white mask that ran around the back of its head.

             
Quey watched her and asked, “Where’d you come up with this?”

             
She glanced his way briefly.

             
“I mean all the things you paint.  The bots, the whole upstairs.”

             
Ryla filled in the leather strap and leaned back to have a look.  “I play a lot of video games.”  She traded her brown paint for black, which she would use around the lenses and then, with a tiny brush, trace and highlight the details.

             
Quey nodded.  “Well, you’re good at it, making things pretty and shiny and all.”  Ryla paused and Quey thought she looked confused.  “I mean to say I like them.”

             
She cocked her head and looked at him.  “Thank you,” she replied so soft Quey only knew she’d spoken because her lips moved.

             
A moment passed in silence while he watched her slender hand slowly trace the mask and strap with an even flow of steady movement.  Shifting his gaze he watched her eyes watch her work, noted her shallow even breathing and the stillness that existed in every part of her that wasn’t necessary for painting.  She didn’t shift her weight, she didn’t scratch at an itch, but he did note that she was blinking, though not very often.  Quey began to wonder again.

             
Ryla took notice of him watching her, just a shift of her eyes and nothing more.  He tried to tell if she was swallowing from time to time but couldn’t.  She glanced at him again and he asked, “When do you think we can get on with things?”

             
“Morning,” she replied without a pause in her painting.  “Gypsy’s finishing work on your infinity drive now.  After that you’ll need new fuel cells.”

             
Quey nodded and wondered.  If she was a machine… well there weren’t even rumors of anything this advanced.

             
“Wait,” he finally heard what she’d said, “Its already afternoon.  You mean tomorrow morning?”

             
“Yes,” she answered and put the finishing touches on Shy Bot.  She stood smiling at it, her head cocked slightly.

             
“But-” he stopped.  No machine could smile like that.

             
Her expression left her face like a light being snapped off just as she turned to face him.  She looked at him and he wasn’t sure what to make of her.  “Its going to take most of the day to fix the truck, but if you’d rather leave after nightfall that can be arranged.”

             
Quey shook his head.  “Morning’s fine.”

             
She turned her attention to the robot again and asked, “Would you like to wake up?”  The robot clicked and then hummed.  Its lenses shifted focus and looked at her.  “Hello,” she said to it, smiling.

             
The robot did not reply, it simply looked down and waved slightly from its wrist, almost nervously, and Ryla laughed.  Quey hadn’t expected that and the sound almost made him jump.  It was amazing, he’d looked like a single egg shaped piece but somehow his head could move in all directions.

             
Ryla looked over at him grinning.  “You get it right?” she asked.

             
Quey looked at her.

             
“He’s a Shy Bot,” and she laughed again when she reached out to touch it and it backed away a bit, looking nervous.

             
Quey’s eyes widened.  She’d done it.  She’d perfectly programmed the robot to mimic shyness and everything fell into place.  It was just like how she’d programmed politeness into Botler and Barbot.  Just like she’d programmed caring into the companion bot.

             
He swallowed hard, his heart racing. He looked at Ryla, who shrugged at the fact that he didn’t seem to get the joke and turned her attention back to Shy Bot.  If it was possible to get them to mimic a single emotion then why not more?  Why couldn’t they smile or get annoyed or even dance, he wondered as he noticed the subtle sway of her hips, still in time with the music.

             
Ryla didn’t notice his hand move toward her.  He just wanted to touch her skin, to feel if it was the real thing or something else.  She didn’t notice but Quey heard a whirr across the room and saw that Mecha-Ganon did.  It turned toward him and a red light on its head flashed and it waited.  He nodded and let his hand fall to his side.  Mecha-Ganon kept watch on him because that’s what he was, he and Bowserbot.  They were protective, they kept anyone from touching her and now he was beginning to wonder why.  Was it to keep her safe, or to keep people from felling what her skin was like.

             
“I have to test his systems,” she said and Quey snapped out of his thoughts.  “You could come,” she offered plainly.  “Or you could play some Nintendo on your own, its through those doors,” she added pointing to the first set of doubles.

             
“Haven’t since I was a kid,” he told her.  “Even then I could never get the controls right.”

             
Ryla set Shy Bot down on the floor.  “Well if he checks out were going to play, and we’ll be using hand controllers for today, just to be sure everything works okay.  You can join us if you like,” she offered then said, “Come on,” to Shy Bot and walked toward the computer hub in the center of the room.

             
“It plays Nintendo?” Quey asked as he watched the bot follow her.

             
“Yeah, that’s what he’s for, so I have a forth.”

             
“A forth?”

“There are two others around here that play too,” she said, searching the room for bots she didn’t spot.

“Doesn’t the computer play you on its own?” he asked.

             
“Sure,” she said as she connected two wires to Shy Bot then added softly, “But it’s more fun with friends.”

             
Quey nodded and replied, “I’m sure it is.”

             
He watched her test the Shy Bots systems.  It would raise its arms, wiggle its fingers, turn itself this way and that.  It followed objects and then was given a group of objects and told to select one based on a set of criteria.

“Shy bot,” Ryla said and it looked at her briefly then glanced away.  “Could you help me find something that I might use to press a button through a hole to small for my finger.”  She showed it her finger and then the bot looked over what was in front of it, half a dozen random objects.  Finally it selected a thin screwdriver and she smiled.  “Very good Shy.”

On the terminal screen she brought up a set of girls.  One held a puppy, one a kitten and the third had a ball.  Below were a series of images and Ryla told the bot to, “Make all the girls the same.”  The bot used the controls to take the ball from the third girl and give her a bunny.

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