Ballerina Justice and the Bro-bots of Peace

“Turn this crap off.”

Peter Elbert was drunk. He had been traveling for nearly three days and had seen enough of the Official Government Channel to last him a lifetime. Why was it that every ship, every waiting area, every restaurant or tavern had this ceaseless OGC drivel droning from vid-walls in every corner?

“Can I get you another drink sir?”

The Bar-bot had seen this type before — angry drunks just looking to pick a fight, preferably with a robot. The robots were, of course, easy targets because they never rose to the bait and were currently forbidden from fighting back. For humans, it was a little like picking a fight with a brick wall, but it never seemed to stop them. What he did not know, was that this particular human had never been drunk before in his life.

The tavern was dark and dirty, with few tables, and even fewer people. On the walls were photographs of the early days of this space station covered heavily in dust, and behind the bar, an assortment of pleasure drinks for men both organic and mechanical, also covered in dust. Or at least the more exotic ones. This was not the sort of place Elbert usually found himself. In fact Elbert rarely visited taverns at all. He usually led a quiet life – a simple dinner, a little vid-wall, perhaps some light study followed by bed. Tying one on in a spaceport tavern was not usually his idea of a good time.

Yet here he was, halfway across the galaxy, drinking unfamiliar spirits in this hole in the wall, far away from home, desperately searching for...what? For answers? He had left his home three days ago, no job, no prospects, just enough savings to live free for a few weeks, if the world even lasted that long. And what was he doing with the first real break he had in close to 15 years? If he had bothered to use his brain, he would have visited a resort planet, or gone sightseeing on Vega 9, or at the least gone back to Cape Town to visit his family. But, fool that he was, he found himself on the road looking for Strohman, maybe the only man in the galaxy that truly despised him. It was madness, but just maybe the only way he could really clear his conscience – to come clean with Jerry and earn forgiveness for his mistakes. Unfortunately, even that hadn’t worked out. Instead, Dame Fortune had got the better of him as usual, and he found himself off course, distracted, drunk, and more than a little belligerent.

“Yes I want another drink, goddammit.”

The Bar-bot brought him another Whiskey and soda, and turned back to watch the vid-wall.

“How can you watch that garbage?” Elbert asked the robot. “They’re all cheats and liars. Even when they say they’re working for the common robot, you know they’re only working for themselves. You think they care about you? You think…”

“Listen, customer. You want to make conversation, I’m willing. You want to insult me, I’ll take it. But if you want to start a fight, you can go across the way to Captain Jack’s, ’cause I won’t stand for it in here.”

“You’re nothing but a cheap replica of a toaster. You and all the rest of ’em. I’ll bet you can’t even cook toast. You ’bots aren’t worth half a man. I’m a scientist. You know what that means? A scientist! Ohh….” Elbert got up, turned around, and leaned back on the bar stool to steady himself. Then he threw up on his shoes. “I don’t feel so good.”

A stranger rose from a nearby table, walked over and put his arm around his shoulders. He was an older model, from before they had really nailed the hair. He was tall and lanky, and had a vague lurch as he walked along. But for all that, he was well put together, with clean stylish clothes, casual but classy, and a voice low and clear, with a quiet authority that was hard to resist. “Let’s get you cleaned up, friend. There’s a bathroom right down here.”

As they walked to the bathroom, the Bar-bot called to them from behind. “He’s not worth it, Ninety. Just another washed up bigot.”

“Forget it, brother,” Ninety called back. “I got a good feeling about this one,” and the robot walked Elbert to the nearby facility, Elbert’s arm over his shoulder, limping, and grateful for the help.

The bathroom was as clean as could be expected for a port tavern, which is to say not clean at all. The tiles were stained, the grout filled with mildew, and the mirror covered with soap stains where it wasn’t broken. The urinal was chipped, and the single stall door, covered with dents and graffiti, did not quite close all the way.

Ninety got Elbert’s shoes cleaned up, moved him into the stall and backed off to the other side of the bathroom. He leaned on the sink, opened up his left forearm, and started to fiddle with a few wires. “I hope you don’t mind if I fuse,” he said, as the wires began to spark and smoke. “It helps to kill the smell of the…well, mess.”

Elbert threw up again. This time in the toilet.

“I’ve seen this happen before with organics,” Ninety said. “More often than you would expect. Don’t you know you can’t drink like that? Sometimes I wonder if your species is even capable of learning. No offense, of course.”

And again.

“That’s right buddy, just get it all out. I hear it makes you feel better.”

Ninety searched his files but couldn’t find anything worth noting about this guy. Just another unemployed water bag with no record worth mentioning. Probably he was downsized for a robot like the rest of them, and was biding his time until they sent him to the mines. Not that it mattered much to Ninety. Orders were orders, and he knew he would follow them to the death, if that’s what it came down to.

He waited another 15 minutes, after which Elbert started to come around. He trudged out of the stall, washed his hands and face and stared at his reflection in the mirror. After a moment, he noticed Ninety standing behind him. “Oh…uh…thanks. I…uh…feel better now.”

“It was the least I could do, friend. You looked like you were in pretty bad shape.” Ninety put his hand on Elbert’s shoulder, and looked at their reflection. “Why don’t I buy you a cup a coffee?”

“Oh that’s alright,” Jerry replied.

“No, seriously. It’s on me. If you think you feel better now, a little coffee will make you feel like a million bucks.”

“Right now I’d settle for a hundred.”

“C’mon. There’s a coffee shop around the corner.”

“Well, alright. It’s awfully nice of you. Uh...my name’s Pete. Pete Elbert.”

“Nice to meet you, Pete.” Ninety stuck out his hand. “My name’s Chantron X24-90. My friends call me Ninety.” They shook hands, and walked back out of the tavern toward the coffee shop. On the way out, Ninety turned to the barkeep. “Put it on my tab, Bok.”

“Whatever you say, Ninety.”

A description of the space station, the various businesses, different robots and even a few aliens, has the potential to be a fun look into the greater world of the story, but as is so often the case in this piece of tripe, fails to live up to our overly optimistic expectations. There are restaurants that specialize in endangered species, aliens with body parts in unexpected locations, and even a strip club for robots. Unfortunately, although not altogether unexpectedly, these clever images are about as good as it gets, buried as they are between extensive passages that alternate between the minutiae of how day to day life on a space station works, and the sort of ruminations on the nature of this futuristic society which seem to be our inescapable burden.

Moving past this less than delightful tour, rather than coming to a delightful stop at our supposed destination, we jump ahead to the next scene, where we find our heroine on her reluctant vacation across the sea.

On the Australian mainland, Ball was screaming into a vid-wall with no picture. “You what?!”

“Calm down, Ball. He’s perfectly safe. He’s with his teachers and classmates. Under constant supervision.”

“Constant supervision? Is that what you call it? And after those thugs came right up to your door? How do you know they’re not looking for him?”

“Ball, you have to calm down. They were looking for Gerald, not Whitty. I told you I wouldn’t even let them in while Whitty was here, and they’ve been back here since and had their full search. I’m telling you, Ball, they don’t even know he’s here. They’re looking for Gerald.”

“And when they can’t find him? You don’t think they’ll come after Whit?”

“Why would they come after Whitty? There is no connection between him and Gerald that those brainless brutes could possibly know about. And even if they did, what could they possibly do to him on a field trip surrounded by Academy teachers? They can’t touch a minor and you know it. Even if your paranoid delusions did have some basis in reality, and those ’bots had gone rogue, they would never go after him in front of witnesses. He’s perfectly safe.”

Ball took a deep breath and stopped pacing. She couldn’t stop thinking that she should never have left. That Amanda was incapable of undertaking the responsibility of caring for a child. That if only she’d been there…

“Listen, Ball.”

Amanda’s voice was soft and soothing, a calm falling over the rising storm that was Ball. It often happened this way, Ball over-reacting to something, and Amanda working hard to bring her back down to earth. Doing it over the phone, however, made it much more difficult, and she had to focus harder than ever on her tone to keep the calming influence in the room. “I know you think things would have been different if you had stayed home, but I also know that deep down, you know it wouldn’t have made any difference. If they came to my place, it can only have been after they had already searched yours and found nothing. The fact that Whitty was with me and they never even saw him means he’s safer now than if he had been home with you when they undoubtedly searched your house. These guys aren’t that smart. They go after the obvious, and you’re the obvious, Ball, not him. I’m sure they only found me because I’m listed as your emergency contact at the Academy. So I need you to stay calm, and think about the implications.”

Ball sat on the sofa. Amanda did have a way of calming her down. She always had. Some part of her just refused to get worked up they way Ball did. “I suppose you’re right, Manny.” Beside, she did have to admit, Whit had always had a knack for taking care of himself, even when he was little.

We now make one of those awkward jumps that continues to thwart our desire to get through a full scene without having the forward momentum disrupted by yet another flashback. This time, it is our opportunity to learn a little more about the boy of whom we have not yet learned much to speak of. As his presence will become increasingly important to the story, it is an education we can no longer delay. Awkward and obvious, then, as this bit of backstory is, we shall thrust ourselves in so that when the time comes, later in the story no doubt, to involve the boy deeper in the plot, it will be with at least some minimal context that we endeavor to do so.

The time is two years previous. The setting, Ball’s house. The moment — well that’s what we’re here to find out.

“Whitty! What happened?”

“Nothing.” Whit headed directly for his room, head down, feet dragging on the floor and blood dripping from his lip.

“Don’t nothing me, young man. Come here. Let me take a look at you.”

Reluctantly, Whit walked over and allowed himself to be examined. He had a bruise that would become a black eye by morning, scratches on his face, and a cut on his lip from whence the blood was still dripping. Ball had to lift his face up by force to see him properly.

“What happened?” she asked in a voice that could only come from an overly protective mother.

“I said, nothing.”

“You were in another fight?”

Whit was silent.

“That seventh grater again?”

Still silent.

“What do I have to do to get you to stop fighting?”

“What am I supposed to do, Mom? There were three of them. If I hadn’t fought back they would have killed me.”

“You fought three of them?”

Silent again.

“What was it about this time?”

Whit mumbled something she couldn’t understand, and she felt herself reaching the breaking point. He was so stubborn, like his father. If only he were here, maybe Whit wouldn’t be so wild. He needed a father. She was trying her best, but it just wasn’t enough.

“What did you say?”

“They said my dad was a thief, ok? They always say that. That he robbed for the ’bots until humans chased him off the planet, and that’s why he never came back. Because he was scared. They’re so stupid.”

Ball tried to absorb. It was a tough position she had put him in, never really telling him the truth about his father. “What did you tell them?”

“The same stupid lie I always tell. That he was killed when the Sheraton went down, trying to save the ship.”

Lie.

Ball was cut short. She had been trying to avoid this moment for eight years, but if he already knew…

“Mom, why don’t you tell me the truth?”

“Truth?”

“He wasn’t even on the Sheraton. Those jerks showed me a copy of the manifest from some book a couple weeks ago. I said he was using an alias, but they knew I was making it up.”

Ball sat back and thought about how to start. How much should she tell him? How much did she even know? She looked into his face — the face that reminded her so much of Jerry — and got lost in memory.

“Your father…”

Whit waited.

“Your father…”

“Uh huh?”

“Your father...was a scientist.”

And for the next hour, Ball told him everything she could remember. The good and the bad. The love and the hate. How they fell in love, how they fought, and the strange relationship she had with her own father. She had so many stories, and Whit just absorbed them all. Then, when at last she got to the part that had kept her from telling the story for all those years, she stopped.

“And?” Whit prompted.

And. And. What am I supposed to say? And I walked out on him the day he went to prison? And he was an uncaring, back-stabbing son-of-a-bitch that didn’t deserve my love? And he walked out on me, never called, never wrote, never cared? And your grandfather whom you love and idolize is a monster who ruined our lives? And what?

Whit sat there, flat soda in his glass, waiting for her to finish.

“I’m sorry, Whitty, I don’t know how to…”

And she began to cry.

“I don’t know what happened, Whitty. He’s gone.”

Whit waited for more while his mother gathered her thoughts.

“We had a fight. A bad one. By the time I came back, he had been taken away. He’s not a thief, Whitty. He was a lot of things, but he was never a thief.” At that, she burst into tears so heavy that she couldn’t continue.

Whit gave her the hug she needed, and they forgave each other.

And that was going to have to be good enough for Whit.

And with that little bit of wedged in backstory out of the way, we are free to resume our conversation between our heroine and her best friend, content in our understanding that this little adult who could take on three seventh graders at nine years old had a pretty good shot at taking care of himself at 12. We now return to the moment where our heroine was just coming around to the idea that her boy was indeed safe from the truancy robot things, and allowing herself to calm down.

I suppose he’s better off on that lame space station field trip with the school, than with you where they’re bound to search again when they run out of ideas.”

Amanda was silent.

“What is it, Manny?”

Carefully, Amanda dared, “I don’t think they’ve run out of ideas, yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just that I don’t know whether it will occur to them to find you on the mainland or not.” Amanda waited for it to sink in. “But I think you should be prepared.”

Ball considered the implications. When it was a question of protecting her son, she was irrational, scared, and anxious, verging on panic. Now that it was a question of protecting herself, however, reality set in, and she remembered her own experiences with the Tru-bots, generally unremarkable, with a sense of humor that gave her confidence and strength. “Oh, I can handle the thugs, Manny. You’ve taught me enough tricks for that. As long as I’m not the one they’re looking for, I can take care of them. What I am surprised about, though, is that I’m starting to worry about him.”

“The rat?”

“Aw, come off it, Manny, I know you never liked him. And I know he had his faults. But he was my husband. Technically, he still is, though I don’t think he knows it. And let’s not forget he’s the father of my child, although I don’t think he knows that either.”

“You can’t possibly still love him? After all the things he said.”

“We’ve been through all this, Manny. You know as well as I do he must have been protecting me. If he had told me the truth that night, I would have insisted on going with him to those miserable colonies. You know I would have. I was such a sentimental fool back then. I would have lived in a cave with nothing to eat but mush two times a day, with a brand new baby to take care of, all for the sake of true love. Sacrifice. And then we would have gone further into debt, and I’d have ended up working the mines, too, and there would have been no way out.”

Even though Manny didn’t have a screen on the other end, Ball had been staring at her own blank one out of habit. Now, however, she looked away from it for a moment, as if Manny could see her, and held back a tear. Careful with her breath, trying not to cry, she continued, hesitantly. “He knew that then. I... I think I knew it too, but I wouldn’t...wouldn’t...admit it to myself until later. Until...he was gone.”

“You still love him.”

“I think I always will, Manny,” and she finally let herself cry. How long had she been holding back these tears? Bottling them up so hard, and for so long that when they finally left her, she didn’t recognize the person left behind. As if her former self had been hidden for so long, she could hardly remember who she was. It was so strange to have him back in her life again, if only as a chimera.

“What’s he up to?”

“I don’t know, Ball, but whether you’re afraid of the ’bots or not, when he comes looking for you, they won’t be far behind.”

“Well, Manny,” Ball said with a smile, “Jerry was a lot of things. A lot of things. But he never was stupid.”

“Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“You too. Take care of my son. I’d like him back in one piece.”

“It’s a promise.”

Ball wrapped up her conversation with Amanda and sat down with a cup of tea. These audio only calls were impossible. If it were anybody but Manny, she probably couldn’t have managed. How can you tell what somebody is thinking when you can’t even see them? But the conversation had touched her nonetheless. Jerry. Out in the world. Would he really come back for her after all this time? And why was he on the run to begin with? If she never got to see him alive again, she wasn’t sure she could forgive herself, but now that he was on the run, how could she find him?

She wandered through the manor aimlessly.

Silver Maples was enormous by any standard and monstrous by most. She could wander for days and never see the same room twice. After a full week there she still hadn’t seen most of it, and that was with new walks every day. Of course, she mostly stuck to her bedroom, a kitchen area, and the lab, but the wandering helped to clear her head, and the cool, drafty rooms were much more pleasant than the brutal Australian summer outside.

Here we dive deep into the details of the best friend’s ancestral home. It is an attempt to make us feel that we are really there, that we can see it, yes, but it is also an unfortunate opportunity to show us how this mansion relates to The Luddite’s distaste for anything technological. It turns out that this mansion has been in Manny’s family for generations, and throughout that time become slowly modernized. Since coming into the property, she had been trying to undo those centuries of work, although spending so little time there, the progress was slow. So we get the vid-wall and the automatic thermostats, but we also see a room that has been converted back into the old-fashioned kitchen it once was, and a shower with actual water. Overall, though, the place feels more or less old-fashioned, with a few modern trappings. Like a 19th century building with modern wiring and a few TVs. Six pages later, we actually get to hear from Ball again.

She would find a new room every day, and just sit, thinking. Brooding. Today she had found the billiard room. There wasn’t much to it. A billiard table and some comfortable chairs. She didn’t know the first thing about billiards and had no desire to teach herself, so she just sat in a big armchair and started to let her mind wander. Normally, she wasn’t very susceptible to nostalgia, but today, after thinking about Jerry, after her cry, she was overcome with memories.

And although we are well prepped to jump into a flashback of Ball and Jerry – perhaps in the midst of another fight, or the moment they fell in love, or better yet, working together on some geeky problem that would relate to and perhaps foreshadow the solutions to come – we find ourselves, instead, in the midst of a remembered scene devoid of Jerry altogether, except, perhaps, in the minds of those present.

Ball is with the Old Man, her father, in a mansion of their own, on the far end of the planet from the one in which Ball is dreaming. Unlike Silver Maples, this one is new, modern, and filled to the brim with machines and technology.

The Old Man was locked into his favorite spot in the house. Every day, sometimes for as much as three hours at a time, he would sink into this chair of sorts, lock himself in, and let it take care of him. It was a sort of general care module, custom made, that would perform daily diagnostics, preventative maintenance, and necessary repairs. The Old Man liked to keep himself in peak condition, and the chair helped him do it. At least for his mechanical parts.

Often he read or caught up on work while he sat. Today he had the pleasure of his favorite visitor, though at the moment, displeasure might have been a better description. She was facing him from a far less complicated chair, in a very agitated state, and he was furiously trying to calm her down without losing face.

“Sweetie, you know I would do anything to keep you here,” he said, “but you can’t possibly expect me to keep that son of a bitch around while he tries to bring down the company.”

“It has nothing to do with him, Daddy.”

“It’s not that I am unwilling to keep him on the payroll. I would even keep him in the lab, if I thought that would satisfy him. But it won’t, and you know it. He’s dangerous, Ball, and he is going to ruin us. Look how he has ruined you.”

“Ruined me?”

“You used to be so sweet. You used to come around here every day and we would talk for hours. Don’t you remember the dinners you used to cook for us? You were such a good cook. And you liked it, too. I know you did.”

“Daddy, that was a long time ago. You need to wake up and see me for who I am now.”

“You mean whom that man turned you into.”

“This has nothing to do with him, and you know it. I’m through with both of you.”

The Old Man threw a switch, following which lights and toggles started to turn off and on. Clicking sounds surrounded him. Motors whizzed and hummed up and down. Then all was quiet and he slowly rose from his chair. He walked over to Ball and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Forget him and come back here. Live in your old room. Take care of your Dad in his old age and don’t let him die of loneliness.”

She shook herself free. “Loneliness? You’ve earned every bit of it. My God, the two of you are like peas in a pod. You don’t care for anybody but yourselves. You pretend to care about me, but when it comes right down to it, you don’t care one bit. Not really. The minute I want anything for myself, anything different from what you want, you use everything in your power to stop me from getting it. You don’t love me. I’m just a toy to you. Jerry at least...” She held her words for moment as she considered it were true. And she knew, as much as she had ever known anything, that it was. “Jerry loves me. I don’t think he cares about me any more than you do, but he does love me. In the end, I think he mostly just thinks about himself too much, and I get left behind.” She gave her father a cold stare. “Sound familiar?”

Ball picked herself up and walked toward the door. When she got halfway, she turned around to face him, and said, “I’m going back to the Academy. At least I know people there who care about me.”

“Ball, don’t.” The Academy was halfway around the world. He wanted to say something nice, something that would show he too cared about her. Loved her. He knew it was the one thing that had a chance of keeping her close. But the generosity it would require just wasn’t in his nature. Not anymore. So instead, he made a desperate appeal to what, in his always self-centered mind, he was sure was her inner nature. It was the worst move he could have made.

“You won’t last a year there. What are you going to do, teach? You’re a scientist. They’ll suck the life out of you.”

“You don’t know a thing about me, do you?” Ball was staring into his artificial eyes. “After all this time, you still don’t know me.”

“You’re wrong. I know you better than you know yourself. I know you have drive. I know you have to think. I know when you put your mind to something there is no stopping you. That when you start a puzzle you won’t rest until you’ve solved it. Even if you knew it would destroy you to…”

“Daddy.” They were silent. The room was silent. There had been so much unsaid over so many years that they were both afraid to uncover it for fear of what might jump out.

“Daddy. Who was she?”

What was left of his heart beat faster. He had been avoiding this conversation since the day she was born, afraid of the pain it brought up. He had become so used to her not knowing that he was not sure he could break his silence after all this time. She had long been ready for the truth, but he was not yet ready to tell her. Not her. Not yet.

Earlier that week, when that son of a bitch had come into his office like a bat out of hell trying to tear down the business, something strange had happened. He had felt her presence in a way he hadn’t since the day he lost her. Right there in his office. She had enveloped him, loved him. She had given him the courage to speak. It was as if by telling his story, he could summon her back, keep her forever. But when she left him cold and lonely again in the office, he felt worse than ever. He was going through sudden withdrawal, and although all he wanted in the world was another fix, he was smart enough to know he was not going to get it, and forced himself to accept the truth. He knew at that moment he could never speak of her again without reliving that pain, and the idea that Jerry was bound to tell her eventually made him crazy. Ultimately, he had sent Jerry away to protect his secret.

He breathed a deep sigh. So this was it. She was leaving, and he just did not have what it would take to stop her. “At least let me set you up so you won’t have to work. I can buy you a house with a lab, you can be close to your friends at the Academy…”

“You’re not buying your way out of this one, Daddy. I’m doing this on my own. I’ve had enough of your help. When you’re ready, you’ll know where to find me.” She walked back up to him and kissed his human cheek. Then she turned around and walked out the door.

At Silver Maples, Ball sat bolt upright.

“What am I doing?” she asked herself. “I’ve got to get to work. Stop lazing about and get to work. That’s why you’re here.” And she got up and walked to the lab.

On the way to the lab, we get a few more details about the manor, and when we get there, a detailed description of the lab itself. Suffice to say the lab is full of modern instruments for all kinds of experiments, mostly to do with time, and Ball has a variety of things going at once. Soon enough we’ll learn that none of these experiments are exciting Ball as she tries to launch herself back into the creative aspects of science that jazzed her so much in her youth.

But not yet.

We must, for the time being, bid farewell to our gathering subplots, and join back up with the flow of our story. That flow takes us back to a deserted port where Jerry and his new cyber-friend De-El are finally about to wake a certain captain from his frozen hibernation.