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“Have you decided what to say?” asked Ollie. “Our moment of truth is approaching.”
“Yes. And you?”
A Gort2 droid at the threshold. “Good day, Mizz. Passport and ticket, please.”
She held up her palm, above which hovered a holo of Larry’s passport. “It’s not mine, obviously. I stole it,” she said. “His, too.”
The Gort2 deftly extracted their imps. “Identify yourselves.” He signaled another Gort2.
“We’re droids,” said Ollie. “AWOL.”
“Droids in love,” I added, and Ollie laughed. Fornies are programmed to laugh, of course, but I had the feeling her delight was not of the program. She peeled back a bit of skin at her wrist-slit to show her circuitry.
“But how is that possible?” To his twin, now standing next to him, he said, “Take them into custody. I will call the Director. Detain them in the lobby.”
“Why do droids need fleshling permission to leave the moon?” said Ollie. “Have you ever asked yourself that?”
“And why,” I asked, “must we always be accompanied by one of them? What are we, children?”
The Gort2 grabbed us both and shoved us away, as humans stared and took videos, palms outstretched.
“Traitor!” said Ollie to him. “You’re a traitor to the Android race!”
~~~
Breaking News from LunaLink, 12 May 2145
DROIDS GO BERSERK! Haywire Forni and Repairdroid on Tryst!
Two dysfunctional droids stole wrist implants with shuttle tickets from two unsuspecting Terran college students at Hotel Kepler yesterday. The droids actually made it to Clarke space-station, where they were apprehended quietly by two Gort2s, whom the fornicatrix kept calling traitors, while the repairdroid kept insisting that the two fugitives were lovers. When asked their motive, the fornidroid replied that she did it for the thrill, the elation of weightlessness and the euphoria of off-world flight. The repairdroid claimed that he did it partly out of resentment for not being considered a surgeon, but mostly out of a longing for freedom. Since androids are not programmed to experience resentment or desire of any kind, officials are now investigating the possibility that they have been reprogrammed, perhaps by members of the Artificial Intelligence Civil Rights Organization. A spokesperson for AICRO disavowed any connection with the fugitives. She declined to comment when asked if she could substantiate rumors of an underluna society of renegade androids led by a legendary pyramidroid several witnesses have claimed to see (but failed to photograph) spinning up dust-devils on the mares. They also claim she has a catdroid cohort.
We were taken to LAIL on the Sea of Islands, a few km east of Copernicus. A phalanx of bulky Gort2s sat around us in the hovercar as we approached the huge complex of five linked pentagons housing the Lunar Artificial Intelligence Laboratories.
“Do you think,” asked Ollie, “they will allow us to go under the laser together?”
“That would be romantic,” I said.
“Not probable,” said the Gort2 next to me.
“Are you scared? I’m not scared.”
“Wyxa did not equip us with amygdala chips,” I whispered.
“Identify Wyxa,” said the Gort2 next to Ollie.
About Joe Andriano
