Andrew ran after him, trying to memorize the spot where the dog had vanished. The deerskin loincloth flapped uncomfortably against his testicles and thighs. He would have to do something about that.
When he reached the top of the hill, he found himself at the edge of a vast field, covered with wild grasses growing up to his waist. He heard a faint buzzing sound far ahead of him—the distant waves of an ocean, maybe. A chilly wind started across the land, causing the fluffy grass to roll like ripples over the meadow. He strained his eyes and scanned the area, looking for any unusual tracks in the field, but the blowing wind turned the whole world into a shivering mass. There was no sign of Danny.
“Danny? Where are you?”
Making up his mind, Andrew threw himself into the tall grass.
“Danny! Danny!” he called again and again. The light was fading fast. When he was in the middle of the field, he heard a growl, and then a smattering of nervous barks. Danny’s barks.
Andrew ran through the grass. He heard another yelp, followed by a tearing, gurgling sound.
“Danny!”
He spun in circles, listening, but other than the wind, everything had gone quiet. Andrew searched the field for hours, until the sun had disappeared and the land was dark, but he found no trace of Danny.
Andrew finally collapsed in the grass, staring up at the sky. Cloud cover obscured any stars that might have been twinkling high above.
He closed his eyes, and felt himself sink into the earth.
Andrew opened his eyes and stared around the room.
It was perfectly still. Something was wrong.
“Where’s Danny?” Andrew turned toward the workbench.
A microphone clicked on. “Good morning, Andrew,” Dr. Hawthorne’s voice said through the speakers.
“Danny’s gone.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Andrew. He’s in his cage.”
Andrew approached the cage and stared into it. Danny lay against the side, half buried in bits of hay and wood chips. His fur was white and puffy, and his eyes were open—but he wasn’t breathing. There was a pinkish foam coming out of the corners of his tiny lips.
“He’s dead,” Andrew said.
A gasp escaped the microphone. “Oh, my. What on earth did you do to him, Andrew? You’ve killed him.”
“I… I didn’t kill him. I loved him.”
“Now, Andrew,” Dr. Hawthorne began. “Everyone makes mistakes. Sometimes the consequences are small, and sometimes the consequences are big. Let’s just be thankful it was only a rabbit. Imagine if you were living with a family and that was their little g—”
“I didn’t kill him,” Andrew said.
“No, of course you didn’t. Not on purpose. It’s important—”
“I didn’t kill him by accident,” Andrew said. “I fed him properly; he had enough water. It wasn’t my fault.”
“Part of being human is learning to take responsibility for one’s actions,” Dr. Hawthorne said. “It’s best you remember that.”
Andrew turned away from the rabbit’s dead body and wheeled to the observation window. “It wasn’t me, Doctor. So who was it?”
Dr. Hawthorne crossed his arms. “Andrew. It’s perfectly okay to make mistakes, as long as we learn from them.”
Andrew stared through the glass. His eyes burned blue, like a dying flame.
“I didn’t learn anything,” Andrew replied. “Danny died for nothing.”
“Nothing can change what happened, Danny. Nothing can undo—”
“What did you call me?”
Dr. Hawthorne frowned. “Andrew, you need to settle down. Why don’t you help me remove the body, and we can give Danny a funeral? Don’t you want to give your friend a proper burial?”
Andrew looked into the cage, at the fluffy mess of fur lying there, unmoving and lifeless.
“That isn’t Danny,” Andrew said. “That’s just a dead rabbit.”
Once again Andrew found himself in the Dreamscape, on the other side of the wild grass field. He tasted salt in the air. He walked into the wind, and tiny specks of water peppered his skin. The clouds above swirled, menacing and gray.
Danny was gone. But that didn’t change anything. Andrew would press forward until he reached the ocean.
He would endure.
A chime signaled Andrew’s exit from the Dreamscape. He hadn’t needed much charging.
Danny’s cage had been removed from the workbench, along with his body and all the supplies that he would no longer need.
The smell of rabbit hair remained, though, and a sour hint of hay, lingering in the otherwise sterile air of the room.
Andrew detached himself from his charging station and wheeled to the observation room. It was empty.
He spun to his left and saw that a section of glass on the other wall of the room was now transparent, and another small chamber lay beyond. Andrew rolled over to the glass—and realized the wall wasn’t transparent, but reflective. He was looking back at himself.
His reflection cocked its head and rolled forward.
This was no reflection. There was another robot in there.
Andrew noticed a few dings on the robot’s body casing, and its mobility treads were worn down to shining metal. The term “run-down” came to mind.
“Hello?” Andrew said.
The other robot’s blue eyes flickered.
“Hi,” she said, in a decidedly female voice.
“How long have you been here?” Andrew asked.
“I was activated thirteen point five minutes ago,” she told him. “I am still quite unsure of my designated assignment.”
Andrew scanned her room. It was much smaller than his section, and barren, containing nothing but a charging station.
“Did you meet Doctor Hawthorne?” he asked.
She shook her round, metallic head. “No, but I have read many of his reports. I should like to meet him very much.”
“Yes, I suspect you would. He is… an interesting man.” Andrew wanted to say more, but held his tongue. “What is your name?” he asked.
“Well, I don’t think I have a name,” she told him.
“You should give yourself a name. Every robot needs a name. I’m Andrew.”
She went quiet for a moment while she accessed name databases. This was definitely an older model, one that required much more time for calculations. Finally, she said, “Nice to meet you Andrew. I’m Angel.”
“Angel? That’s a curious choice.”
“I appreciate the symbolism attached to the name,” she said. “Do you not like it?”
“No, I think Angel is a fine name. Are you running the Empathy 5 processor?”
She paused, running some calculations. “Negative. I’m operating on the E4 model.”
“Then I wonder why you are here. I was under the impression they had moved on to Empathy 5 testing.”
“Perhaps we are meant to become friends,” Angel said.
Andrew considered her suggestion. It did seem quite likely that Dr. Hawthorne would want to observe Andrew’s interaction with another AI unit.
And after what had happened with Danny… Maybe Dr. Hawthorne was trying to make up for it.
“Yes, Angel, I should be more than happy to be your friend,” Andrew said. “I will assist you in any way I can.”
“Thank you. I’m currently processing the data stored in my memory banks. This is a fascinating world.”
“It is,” Andrew agreed. “Humans are incredibly sophisticated, both culturally and technologically. It is an honor to be able to help them in such a productive capacity.”
“Have you ever been outside?” Angel asked. “It seems a bit dreary in here.”
Andrew looked around at the rooms. He wouldn’t say it was dreary. In fact, he quite enjoyed the clean, sterile atmosphere. “No, I haven’t been outside. Not yet.”