How did he not see? Sankofa wondered as she followed the Imam, Alhaja by her side, three men following close behind her, and many of RoboTown’s citizens noisily following behind them. Are the robocop’s false eyes the only eyes he has? She grasped her satchel to her, and glanced behind her at the line of police officers keeping everyone back, all armed with automatic guns. She made eye contact with one of them and his look was so nasty that she turned back around. Sankofa took a deep breath.
When she arrived at the intersection, the child was still in the street, his mother weeping over his twisted body. Sankofa looked at this and remembered how she’d gone flying that fateful day. The woman who had to have heard them coming from a half mile away didn’t look up or stop sobbing.
“See this poor woman!”
“This is what happens when you bring Death’s Daughter to RoboTown.”
“We’ll deal with her.”
“Witch!”
Sankofa shut her eyes, trying to block out the mob’s shouting. Being led out of town by an angry mob wasn’t the worst thing that could happen, best to stay calm and let it be done. She had all she needed in her satchel. Still, she’d grown to love RoboTown. It may not have been her home but for a nearly a year, it had been a home. And Alhaja had been so good to her, almost a mother. And Sister Kumi. And Michael and the other kids. And she was going to go to school again.
They passed the sobbing woman and her dead son. They passed the stopped cars and trucks. Many had gotten out and were just staring at the woman. Sankofa thought they’d walk right through the intersection, out of town. Then the Imam stopped in the middle of the intersection, before the robocop.
This was her first time close to it. No one stepped up to the robocop, except its cleaners. It just wasn’t polite. Its location was not a spot for pedestrians. Now the busy street was empty, police cordoning off the road. But a mob was gathering. Sankofa looked at the robocop’s massive feet, broad torso, and then up at its complex head with eyes shining its “stop” red. Its head made a soft whirring sound as it looked down at her with its stoplight eyes.
“Wife, come,” the Imam called loudly over his shoulder.
Sankofa turned around and watched Sister Kumi push her way through the line of police officers. She was breathing heavily, as usual. Today she wore a grey dress and a grey veil over her head. “Why?” she asked Sankofa.
Sankofa sighed and shook her head. “Please, just let me leave RoboTown.”
“Ask it,” the Imam said. “So we are sure.”
Sister Kumi looked from Sankofa to her husband and back to Sankofa. Then she turned to the robocop and held up a tiny black box, a remote control. She spoke into it, “Speak your mind, Steel Brother.”
“One has died today on my watch,” it said in its sonorous female voice. “At 14:55 hours in Section 4 of the Kumasi Road intersection. A child, Ason Ayim, age 7 and a half. I said walk and gave Section 3 the Green light at the same time. I made a mistake. I am very sorry for your loss.”
“What made you make this mistake,” Sister Kumi asked, looking right at Sankofa.
The robocop whose name Sankofa now knew was “Steel Brother” paused. It looked at Sankofa, as well. And as it did, its remaining drone came down and hovered feet above their heads. “That one there has no digital footprint. How can one have no digital footprint? No device, no face recognition software can recognize, no voice that responds to my voice recognition software. And that one there, she is… that one there, she is… that one there, she is…”
Then Steel Brother seemed to freeze, its massive head turned toward Sankofa. Sister Kumi looked at her husband. “What’s wrong with it?” the Imam asked.
“I don’t know!” Sister Kumi whispered.
“That one there, she is,” Steel Brother said, this time more decisively. “… Confusion. I experience confusion because of her. I spend memory on that one. I burn my energy stores on that one. Trying to understand. For me to do my job, I have to have information. That one there, she is distracting. I was gathering information on that one and that one took my eyes.”
“Your drone?” Sister Kumi asked.
“Yes. And that drew all my attention. And I grew confused. And I made my mistake.” The robot went silent and there was a moment when Sankofa could hear the crickets in the bushes beside the road. Then everyone in the mob began to speak at once—from name calling, to discussing how a robot could make a mistake, to considering the plight of RoboTown now that its robot was stupid.
All Sankofa could think of was the clear fact that the robocop had become obsessed with her to the point of being distracted enough to cause an accident and maybe it was even driving itself mad.
“Get out of our town!” a woman shrieked. Then the first stone flew past Sankofa’s head. “GET OUT!” It was the mother of the dead child. She’d left his corpse, found a large stone, thrown it and was preparing to throw another one. Her wet face was swollen, her eyes red, her nose slick with snot. “BAD LUCK! YOU’RE BAD LUCK! WITCH! EVIL REMOTE CONTROL! SATAN!” She picked up and threw another stone. It hit Sankofa in the leg.
Another stone came from the mob. It zoomed past Sankofa’s face. Then the pushing and shoving with the police started. Police fell and people began kicking them. Alhaja grabbed Sankofa’s arm and pulled her back, but people quickly surrounded them.
“This woman who thinks she’s something because she overcharges us for mobile phones and jelli tellis,” a woman sneered. “Of course, she sides with this monster.” A stone hit Alhaja and the Imam quickly jumped in front of her.
“People! People of RoboTown,” he shouted. “Is this the way to show Allah your excellence?! Is this…”
His strong voice was drowned out by the yelling of those around him. Another stone hit Sankofa in the arm and she stumbled back, dropping Alhaja’s hand. “Stop it!” she shouted. She could feel her light just beneath her skin. It wanted to defend her, to protect her. No, Sankofa thought, squeezing her mouth, flaring her nostrils and frowning. Alhaja is too close, I can’t control it that well… and I won’t hurt these people of RoboTown. Cannot! Never! But they were hurting her.
Another stone hit her right on the collarbone. “Ah!” she screamed, bending forward in pain. “Please!” In every direction she looked were people shouting. Every direction except Alhaja’s; she met Sankofa’s eyes and Sankofa saw such sorrow there. “I’m sorry,” Sankofa said. “Oh I’m so sorry.”
“Witch,” a man said, chucking a stone. It hit her in the thigh. Sankofa screeched, turned the other way, and ran headfirst into the belly of a fat man. He shoved her back and threw dirt at her. “Leave this place,” he said.
“You have to let me!” Sankofa screamed, tears flying from her eyes. “How can I leave if…”
A flip-flop bounced off her head, then more dirt sprayed into her face. Someone slapped her, but she couldn’t see who’d done it because her eyes were watering so badly. Someone kicked her in the back and she moaned in pain, her chest hitching as she sobbed “Please! I didn’t mean to—” She was punched in the side, and she stumbled the other way, coughing and holding her chest. “See!” someone shouted. “She can be cut down! Get her!”