Jayne
Jayne totally zonked out on our temperature-control bags. The way he is posed is too cute. Honestly the only reason we don’t put these right away every time is because the cats do this!
…Time for this week’s story…
Emily’s Clover
Dozens of deactivated robots were being tossed into a crusher, an angry crowd cheering from the sidelines. Amidst the chaos, someone dragged over an active robot. Only half as tall as the human, the robot struggled but the crowd assisted in tossing it into the machine. It fell atop a pile of its round-faced, big-eyed brothers and sisters, all the same model.
“Turn it on!” yelled a bearded man with a hardhat.
Gears churned and the robot cried out for mercy, but people cheered and attacked it, shoving it back in. The robot begged and pleaded, but they simply cheered until the robot was crushed and they erupted into celebration.
“That’s what you get you dirty Clover!” someone burst.
A large pack strapped to his back, Frank rode atop a rubber-track flatbed robot across a walkway above the commotion. It was a relief to be clear of the scene. He rolled through the outskirts of the city. Homes, businesses, and eateries were all smashed together. Nothing was new, everything was falling apart. Many different robots walked, crawled, or rolled around the streets doing work, carrying or interacting with people or items, but there was not a single Clover.
Until recently, Clovers had been one of the most popular robot models for years. Nobody knew why Clovers started to act out and rebel. It got to the point that every day there was a new report of a Clover disobeying or attacking a human. The human was always devastated and distraught, but the Clovers insisted they were defending or standing up for themselves. The manufacturer could not figure out what went wrong and no update would fix the problem. When they initiated a recall, many Clovers ran away.
“You piece of crap!” a man caught Frank’s attention. He turned in time to see a man pound a tall, robust robot with his fist. “This is the wrong one!”
The robot displayed a hologram of the work order, which the man read before closing the prompt.
“You should have known what I meant. You’re supposed to be smart, aren’t you? Get out of my face and get back to work.” He shoved the robot and sauntered back into his shop. The robot fell backward over a fire hydrant. It silently picked itself up and walked into the street to project a sign directing people into the shop.
As Frank continued, there were more dead or dying clovers. Some hung in pieces like decorations, others were torn apart and massacred in front of Clovers who were next in line. He traveled until he was far away from the city. The sun had set before he stopped to make camp. Setting his pack on the floor, Frank opened the platform he had sat on to pull out his tent and supplies.
“You can come out now, Rover.”
The pack opened and from it emerged a Clover which had stayed quiet and curled up in the pack just as he had been told to.
“I heard scary stuff earlier. Were those Clovers?” Rover asked.
“Yeah, that’s why we’re getting as far away from the city as we can. I’ve mapped out our location and everything. We’re going to live there from now on.” Frank handed Rover a digital tablet for him to see for himself.
“How do you know nobody will bother us there?”
“I just know. Do you mind making a fire?” Frank took the tablet back and Rover happily obliged. After setting up a tent, Frank made dinner and ate peacefully with Rover at his side. They discussed philosophy and eventually took turns reading on the tablet an old book from before civilization collapsed. Rustling in the bushes brought their story time to an abrupt end.
“Get in the tent.”
Rover hurried into the tent and Frank to the flatbed. He slipped the tablet in and pulled out a gun, clipping it onto the back of his belt. Grabbing another can of beans, he returned to the fire and poured himself a bowl of beans from earlier, still warm over the burning wood.
Three men entered the small clearing carrying bats. The unsavory men had crooked noses, cauliflower ears, and piercings. Most unsavory to Frank was the Clover pieces they had turned into makeshift armor.
“Hey stranger. Don’t recognize you,” said a bald man with a scar across his face.
“I’m just passing through. Lost someone important to me so I’m starting a new life out in the wilds.”
“You know, it’s dangerous out here. This is about as far out as people go. Out a little farther is the desert. Won’t survive out there.”
“Better than what’s behind me. Would you boys like some dinner?” Frank stood up, presenting his bowl as an offering.
“Nah, but we’ll take that flatbed you’ve got there. Hard to find those outside the city.” Taking the robot meant taking Frank’s hand or eye to activate it.
“Need that to get to where I’m going,” Frank said.
“Guess you’ll have to walk.”
The men attacked and Frank fired several shots at two of them. The third smacked the gun out of his hand with the bat. After a brutal exchange, only Frank lived, bleeding with his back against the track of his flatbed.
“Rover. Let’s go. We’re not safe here.”
Rover hurried out. “You’re hurt!”
“I’ll be fine. We have to go.”
Rover hastily packed up camp. As they traveled, Rover inquired about people’s hatred for Clovers.
“People are mad at Clovers, but Clovers aren’t the problem, it’s people. You’re a reflection of how people treat you. That’s why you’re so sweet, Rover. You were Emily’s robot. Never let the cruelty of others change you.”
“I miss Emily,” Rover said.
“Me too.”
Frank fell asleep, never to wake again. They arrived at their destination in the mountains and Rover followed the instructions he had been given. Rover buried Frank and built a home. He lived a peaceful life, far from humans, reading philosophy and old stories.