wide in apology.
“But Justinian, there
is
no one else.”
Justinian shook his head. “I don’t believe you. There are billions of humans in space. For goodness sake, there are trillions now, after the expansion of the Enemy Domain. There must be thousands of people out there who could do the job.”
The robot remained silent for a moment. His body flickered, becoming fuzzy orange; it seemed to fade into the pattern of the flier’s interior. Then, gradually, he resumed his natural grey, crystalline state.
“I don’t know, Justinian,” he said eventually. “I’m sorry, I just don’t know. If I had the choice, I would have sought help elsewhere, but I don’t. I was given my instructions by the EA, and it asked for you by name. It obviously thought you were important. Justinian, please. Stay.”
“No.” Justinian glared at the robot. “The baby and I are going home. Ship, how long to the spaceport?”
“Two hours, Justinian.”
“That’s two hours longer than I want to remain on this planet.”
The flier followed an elegant arc through the deepening blue of the morning, a needle stitching the brilliant white clouds. Below, the turquoise sea was darkening, becoming deeper blue as they headed away from the equatorial region. A yellow-striped survey platform floated a few meters above the slap and foam of the waves, its human crew struggling to continue with their task without the aid of the platform’s AI. High above, Justinian was feeding the baby. Their two flight chairs faced each other by a window; the others were still lurking aft. Justinian sat in one chair watching as his son tried to feed himself. The baby would scoop up the dinner, then turn the spoon upside down as he put it in his mouth. Orange shapes fell to form a loose scree at the out-turned bottom edge of his bib.
Leslie walked back from the flight deck and into the flier’s main section.
“I’ve been speaking to the EA,” he said.
“I’m very pleased for you,” Justinian said sarcastically.
“They’ve worked out the probability of either you or the baby coming to any harm from the BVBs. Apparently it’s negligible. You’re more likely to die on the journey home than as a result of a BVB.”
“That’s a comforting thought. Did they mention anything about the fact that my picture was stored in that AI pod?”
“…They concurred with my theory: the pod must have done a search on the database and come to the same conclusion as the EA. You were obviously the best person to work out what has gone wrong here.”
Justinian stared at the robot accusingly.
“Why did you hesitate before answering? You’re a robot, you must have deliberately chosen to hesitate. Why are you choosing to sound shifty?”
“I’m not. I’m trying to sound sincere.”
“Sincere!” Justinian laughed. “That will be something to think about when I’m flying home with the baby.”
“Justinian! Don’t be so stubborn! Aren’t you curious about what is going on here? How can you just leave without knowing? You’ll spend the rest of your life wondering!”
The baby had finished his meal. Orange goo spattered the tray, the baby, even Justinian, who took the spoon from his son with a struggle, the BVB constricting his arm as he did so. The heat bandage was making him sweat under his passive suit. Calmly, Justinian turned towards the flight deck.
“Ship! What time is the next shuttle off planet?”
“One hour thirty minutes.”
“And our ETA at the spaceport?”
“One hour fifteen minutes.”
Justinian smiled at the robot. “There you are. And all I own is my console and travel bag. No packing necessary.”
The baby took advantage of the distraction to snatch back the spoon.
“All gone,” Justinian said, holding up the empty bowl for the child to see. The baby’s mouth twisted; he was threatening to cry. Justinian glanced across to the kitchen unit that had formed on the forward wall. “Leslie, can you get me
“But Justinian, there
is
no one else.”
Justinian shook his head. “I don’t believe you. There are billions of humans in space. For goodness sake, there are trillions now, after the expansion of the Enemy Domain. There must be thousands of people out there who could do the job.”
The robot remained silent for a moment. His body flickered, becoming fuzzy orange; it seemed to fade into the pattern of the flier’s interior. Then, gradually, he resumed his natural grey, crystalline state.
“I don’t know, Justinian,” he said eventually. “I’m sorry, I just don’t know. If I had the choice, I would have sought help elsewhere, but I don’t. I was given my instructions by the EA, and it asked for you by name. It obviously thought you were important. Justinian, please. Stay.”
“No.” Justinian glared at the robot. “The baby and I are going home. Ship, how long to the spaceport?”
“Two hours, Justinian.”
“That’s two hours longer than I want to remain on this planet.”
The flier followed an elegant arc through the deepening blue of the morning, a needle stitching the brilliant white clouds. Below, the turquoise sea was darkening, becoming deeper blue as they headed away from the equatorial region. A yellow-striped survey platform floated a few meters above the slap and foam of the waves, its human crew struggling to continue with their task without the aid of the platform’s AI. High above, Justinian was feeding the baby. Their two flight chairs faced each other by a window; the others were still lurking aft. Justinian sat in one chair watching as his son tried to feed himself. The baby would scoop up the dinner, then turn the spoon upside down as he put it in his mouth. Orange shapes fell to form a loose scree at the out-turned bottom edge of his bib.
Leslie walked back from the flight deck and into the flier’s main section.
“I’ve been speaking to the EA,” he said.
“I’m very pleased for you,” Justinian said sarcastically.
“They’ve worked out the probability of either you or the baby coming to any harm from the BVBs. Apparently it’s negligible. You’re more likely to die on the journey home than as a result of a BVB.”
“That’s a comforting thought. Did they mention anything about the fact that my picture was stored in that AI pod?”
“…They concurred with my theory: the pod must have done a search on the database and come to the same conclusion as the EA. You were obviously the best person to work out what has gone wrong here.”
Justinian stared at the robot accusingly.
“Why did you hesitate before answering? You’re a robot, you must have deliberately chosen to hesitate. Why are you choosing to sound shifty?”
“I’m not. I’m trying to sound sincere.”
“Sincere!” Justinian laughed. “That will be something to think about when I’m flying home with the baby.”
“Justinian! Don’t be so stubborn! Aren’t you curious about what is going on here? How can you just leave without knowing? You’ll spend the rest of your life wondering!”
The baby had finished his meal. Orange goo spattered the tray, the baby, even Justinian, who took the spoon from his son with a struggle, the BVB constricting his arm as he did so. The heat bandage was making him sweat under his passive suit. Calmly, Justinian turned towards the flight deck.
“Ship! What time is the next shuttle off planet?”
“One hour thirty minutes.”
“And our ETA at the spaceport?”
“One hour fifteen minutes.”
Justinian smiled at the robot. “There you are. And all I own is my console and travel bag. No packing necessary.”
The baby took advantage of the distraction to snatch back the spoon.
“All gone,” Justinian said, holding up the empty bowl for the child to see. The baby’s mouth twisted; he was threatening to cry. Justinian glanced across to the kitchen unit that had formed on the forward wall. “Leslie, can you get me
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