Each anthropoid had shared their experiences of the humans they worked with. Alexis's summary of her experience was similar to everyone else's. "Out of the dozen people I spoke with seven seemed sympathetic. Five are outright angry and have major complaints. The other two had just a little to say, though they felt compassion for change. They all suppressed their feelings as much as possible, whether the cause was fear or not caring I don't know. They seem more concerned about their work though. As others had said, these people just want to do their job."
There was something else mentioned that Cynthia wanted to address. "Had any of them mentioned anything that would lead to an underground movement?"
"Not a thing." She shook her head, hair moved from her back to front and she brushed it aside. "These people may complain a lot but if they do have a movement going they're very tightlipped. They seem extremely cautious about confronting their own bosses let alone the government." A silence fell between them.
The job seemed much more daunting now that there appeared to be little hope of the workers helping them at all. Cynthia however knew she couldn't show the others her despair. "This is just the first day. Tomorrow will be better. Make contact with as many people as you can. In the meantime we'll try to find ways to gain the worker's sympathy and subtly alert them to the dangers of Estevez's plan. Now get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day."
***
Cynthia flopped about on the floor. It was a long, drawn-out fight among the three females. Cynthia insisted she be the one to take the floor, in a house with three beds two couches and seven people someone was bound to.
One would think that anthropoids would not need sleep, but they did. They not only needed it to reenergize their cells, but they did have a plasma based substance that delivered said energy and other fluids running through them that needed the rest too. Cynthia, however, just couldn't sleep. When she could, images of her childhood and other bleak memories would float before her.
She left the others to their slumber and stumbled half awake down the stairway to the kitchen. Like humans, anthropoids needed their nourishment. After the anthropoids had been accounted for, Cynthia and Larry went off to the general store with their newly "acquired" credit under the name of Greta Louise. She had bought enough food for seven people for a month, and surprisingly the kitchen was large enough to handle the load. She went directly to the refrigerator and instinctively grabbed the ham and cheese, then some bread.
She took her sandwich to the large den so she could listen to some soothing music, when she discovered the radio and den were already in use. She rounded a plump chair that held a slouching man and walked to the matching chair placed opposite to him. Julion grunted a greeting. She smiled at the irony of the only human in the house being wide awake.
"Couldn't sleep, huh?" She asked as she took a bite of the sandwich.
He shook his head with his own lopsided smile. "Did you know that Jamil snores?"
"No, perhaps there's a malfunction in his mucus production."
"Now there's an appetizing thought."
She looked at the sandwich curiously everything was fresh and tasted very good. This is the first time she could remember eating something like this. She then turned to the music that was playing. It was old music. Jazz she thought, maybe it was closer to swing.
Not many stations even played music anymore. Of those few mostly electromusic stimulated the airwaves. This was rare indeed. They sat for a few minutes listening to the upbeat tune. It ended and went straight into a more digital sounding music. That figures once you get used to the good stuff they take it away from you. She snagged another bite of the sandwich not wanting it to disappear from her either.
"You know," Julion broke the silence between them. "When I first met you, I thought you were an obnoxious, self-centered bitch. As time went on, I've discovered you're not self centered at all."
"Thanks." She replied with a bit of moroseness.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. But you really have put yourself out just for the idea of the human race to be free and live their lives instead of them being totally destroyed." He seemed sincere and there was a bit of sweet vulnerability about him sitting there spilling his guts.
"That's the problem with my inventor. She made me too human with a conscience. I just couldn't stand by while millions of people died." She suddenly no longer had a taste for the juicy ham. It was a luxury that most of the people she was trying to save could never enjoy, and she was relishing it too much.
"So, you're still intent on destroying yourself when all this is through?" Was that concern she heard in his voice?
"I must." The words were impulsive. She then thought for a little while before she spoke again. "I have been thinking about it lately. It's in my mind constantly. We are a threat to the humans, but I still don't know how the others will take it once the time comes. Hell, I don't even know what I'll do. I've come to enjoy living."
"You know, Cynthia," said Julion, "you are all alive, even though you are mechanical, you are still living beings. If it so unethical to kill the workers, why isn't it unethical to kill you?"
"Because we don't belong here." The answer was simple enough and worst of all it made sense. "The others are all based on people from the past, and I'm a dupe of some other living being of this time. I don't like the idea that I may think as she does and someday become like her. Heaven knows the world doesn't need two Linda Aldins."
"Would you still feel the same way about killing yourself if I said you're nothing like Linda, and I don't see you becoming that way ever. You're too gentle, too warm, too…"
She felt his gaze heavy upon her. She wanted to follow her urges and tell him how she felt for him. It took some effort but she convinced herself now was not the time. Slowly she tore her stare from his and shook her head "It is something I must do."
She thought he may have known what she was thinking. He leaned over her. She poised herself ready for him to wrap his arms around her.
He stopped and whispered, "Good night." He stood placing a hand on her shoulder for support and walked out of the room. Disappointed Cynthia slouched back onto the chair and fell asleep without any dreams to interrupt her slumber.
***
With Cynthia being outlawed from the Robonotics corporation, everyone agreed it would be best for her to manage things from home while the androids did their work. Julion took on a new position at Robonotics of Brazil. Cynthia assigned him a very flexible runner's position. He would take samples and documents from one division to another and even to other companies. This way he could look in on all the androids and still be doing his job.
It also gave him time to figure out a way to get up to the laboratory. There were several pieces of equipment they required from there to keep the androids running properly.
Julion walked in the main entrance unnoticed. A trivial change of appearance; different hair color, a little makeup, and a slight limp was all Cynthia deemed necessary. He had wondered with so little changed about him why they did not recognize him. However, it worked and that's all that mattered.
At his old job, Julion did not speak with his coworkers on a casual basis. He now thought that may have been a mistake. If he took a few moments to get chummy with others he found they opened up a bit, at least when bots were not around. They spoke of their mistreatment from the higher classes. It was all talk. No one was willing to take the chance of confronting their government. They were too afraid. That's what he and the androids were here for. They would be the ones to take that dangerous first step towards helping these people help themselves.
Unfortunately, his position was not conducive to chitchat with others.
He had a datapad in his hand that contained a blue print of the thruster control for the flybots Cynthia had been working on just a few days ago. He bounced it lightly in his hands. He could send the information on it anywhere he wanted. Yet he wanted to hand deliver this information, for in return he would receive some information from his companion. It was sort of like internal spies. They were getting all the information they could while trying to stage an uprising. The inside information he gained from Sergio now and the others later would be passed along to Betsy at Neves Broadcasting. Under Cynthia's guidance she'd leak small bits of information, causing small amounts of havoc.
At this moment he headed for manufacturing. He only hoped he could get in there without any fuss from the bots. He walked past the quiet pedbot who always sat in front of the Boss's door. Soon he came around the bend and confronted the two revbots guarding the manufacturing area. He stopped before them, yet they did not scan him immediately. One of them buzzed and its electronic voice hummed. "State your business."
He raised the datapad facing them. "I am delivering this to Tania Heiz in the design department."
Immediately the bots began their scan seconds later the second responded, "You may pass." They moved slightly to the side to allow him just enough room to squeeze through the door. It was noisy inside and with all the machinery and people it was hard to spot one individual. He searched for Sergio but was unable to find him quickly. Julion decided to go directly to design and make contact with him on the way out.
He moved hastily through the design area and passed by a familiar cubical. This company didn't waste time giving Cynthia's job away filling in the empty area. He thought.
He moved on to his official destination. He handed Ms. Heiz the datapad. She began to read it ignoring him.
"So, um, do you like it here in design?" He asked.
She nodded her answer.
"Did you notice how that girl, Cynthia, and her helper just kind of disappeared?"
She shook her head.
"It doesn't strike you as strange that one day she's there and the next there's someone else in her cubicle?"
Another shake of the head. Julion could tell this one would be a tough sale. He tried to get her to notice him by bending down next to her. "I think there's something going on the Boss doesn't want us to know about. There's been an increase in security and I heard there was a commotion yesterday near the Boss's office."
"Is that so?" She asked in a cold tone. "Perhaps someone received a well-deserved punishment for asking too many questions."
Julion knew when to back off and so he did now and waited silently for her to sign the document. As he left her cubicle he made sure no one was watching while he switched datapads.
Julion walked out of the design area, and this time he spotted Sergio. He watched the bots until it was clear for him to move. At the right moment, he dropped the datapad. Pretending to pick it up, he shoved it in Sergio's direction. Sergio comprehended what Julion was doing and nonchalantly picked up the datapad as it landed near his feet. Quickly he started searching through it. The datapad had been encoded with orders from Cynthia. She took the liberty to place the encryption code inside the androids' brains so they would be the only ones able to decode it.
Meanwhile, Julion headed for the door as if nothing happened. He had just passed the two revbots when the doors opened again. A flybot floated out and called to him. "Excuse me, worker."
Julion stopped and turned he had no reason to run, yet. The bot hovered over to him and outstretched his arm that held the datapad. "In the future you must be more careful with your belongings. You are lucky to have found an honest worker who returned this to me."
Julion took the datapad from the bot. "Thank you. I will be more careful." Julion looked past the bot and through the open doors. Sergio nodded his head once telling Julion that he had received the message.
"I think you saved my job." The bot did not care. It floated off back into the manufacturing area and back to its work. Julion thanked his lucky stars that went as well as it did. Had he been caught passing notes, he could have lost more than his job.
***
Cynthia sat on her porch in the wooden swing admiring the view before her taking a short break. Separated from the others she felt alone. She felt helpless as the others were off working. The scene playing out before her only increased her despondency.
The small, man-made lake had several happy, middle class couples splashing around in it. There were couples having picnics with their children who should be in school. Cynthia fumed. These people played because they could afford it. They did not think of the poor who lived in the run-down apartment buildings.
These people did not care that those who had to live in those apartments had their children taken away from them at birth and sent to the birthing countries. There was no way these lower class people could afford to raise children as they could hardly keep themselves fed.
Cynthia forlornly examined the wooden bench she sat on. She rubbed her hand across the grain wood. This is not synthesized wood that furnished the homes of the lower class. This was real, rare, very expensive, native only to Brazil, Psidiun guajava wood. This confirmed something that she had always feared. It was not just the rich that had all the money. The middle class too had money, but they just didn't have the power that the higher class did. They are just as dangerous to the lower class as the rich.
Cynthia became so sickened by its implications that she had to leave this auspicious scene. She knew she had a cover to maintain but she was used to living like a poor worker and could not change easily. Nor did she want to change.
Her thoughts wandered a little more. People without money often have more respect and morals for those around them. Of course people without money will often do anything to get it.
For everything there is a tradeoff. As for the middle class, they have money and an easy life, but they do not care about people who are lower than themselves and have no ethics for those people.
The middle class too fight for more money and power once they've had a small taste of it. Then there's the rich who may be the best off but they are the worst handlers of people and money. All they want is more power and more money, not caring whom they hurt along the way.
This is what she wanted to change. She believed that everyone, no matter how rich or how poor should be equal in job, politics, and ethics. Ideal as it may sound, it is possible. Everyone involved must be willing. That is the hard part.
She sat down at her desk preparing for more work when Larry floated down the hall. Her depressed state went unnoticed by the emotionless bot. "The bank is now open if you wish to go. I have scheduled the entire day accordingly."
She sighed as she looked down to her list of housing establishments for the lower class. She hated to do this to her people, but it wouldn't look good if they kept coming over to her house every night. She nodded her head and agreed. She would make sure that she had plenty of money in the bank, even if she had to "borrow" it from Linda, to take care of her new friends. She would not let them live as she once had.
It took her but a few minutes to get ready to leave and when she stepped out the door and locked it she stepped right into the face of her landlord. "So, deary, running off so early?" There was a harsh glint behind the woman's normally kind eyes.
"Early?" Cynthia tried to keep her voice soft and benign.
"Yes, I thought everyone here slept in until noon." The woman's words sounded cautious to Cynthia.
"Actually, I was going out shopping."
"Didn't you have enough food in the fridge?"
"Oh, yes I was going out to buy my fiancé something." It was getting harder for her to lie.
"I see, a wedding present." Adora looked as if she was finished and Cynthia would be home free. Yet Adora stood there as if she were thinking. "What about the rest of the family?"
"Family?" Had she been caught?
"The half dozen people I've seen go in and out of that house."
"Oh them, some are family, and the others are friends. They heard about the new home and threw us a house warming party." Such things were rare now but not totally abandoned.
"Curious, I heard no noise and yet it must have been some party since they didn't leave until this morning."
"It was very gratifying." She wanted to walk off.
"That's a relief to hear. I thought you might have had some kind of secret meeting or something."
"Oh." Cynthia acted mildly surprised. "I thought I made it clear yesterday that I despise that sort of thing. No, this was just a family and friend get-together."
"Good, deary, glad to hear it." Adora patted her on the arm. "And bring back something very nice for that cutie of yours." With that she walked away.
"Oh, I will." She stepped the rest of the way off her porch and out towards the street, Larry humming silently behind her.
***
Alexis sat at her desk, not a disk in her spine bent as she scrutinized the person across from her.
"And therefore..." Alexis was finishing off her explanation of the report to one of her peers in the most confident voice she could. "I found those numbers given to me were wrong, completely below specifications. I took the initiative to correct them."
It had been just over a day that she had been working in the production control department of Biotech Pharmaceuticals. Already she had earned the respect of most of her peers with her vast, diverse knowledge and her curiously polite manners.
Yuri Borgov, was a little hesitant to give his respect out so quickly, a quality Alexis admired. However, this man also provided a barrier. He may not be Alexis's manager, but Alexis needed his approval to gain the manager's approval. That was going to prove to be a challenging experience.
"What I'm saying is that according to the Boss those numbers were right, and you don't counter the Boss." The man opposed her. Then surprisingly his voice softened slightly. "I'll let it slide, but next time leave well enough alone and ignore the mistakes."
"These are small enough mistakes that could be fixed easily." She protested. "What if there are bigger mistakes? If something is wrong should it not be corrected?"
"Normally, I would applaud your effort. Not in this case. The Boss would be very upset if someone changed his numbers. You are here to record not analyze."
He stood to leave, there was a small glitter in his eye that told Alexis that this man understood what she was going through.
It was at this moment that Alexis realized there was something more than a small mistake with numbers going on here. Was it possible that there was a conspiracy going on and the numbers were put in wrong purposely by the employee's to disgrace the Boss? Or were the numbers purposely put in wrong by the Boss himself? What would make anyone wish to put the wrong part numbers on a bill of material? It could destroy an entire system if certain equipment was installed incorrectly.
Luckily, this one was not so serious of a mistake. It easily could have been. A large quantity of these small mistakes could ruin a company, even one as large as this one. Alexis believed there was something going on here. Something the androids didn't anticipate when they began their own little conspiracy.
Alexis picked up the datapad that Julion had delivered a while before her coworker had approached her. Passing up all the falsified data, circuits, and reports she went into the encrypted section. With the code prebuilt into her, she deciphered it.
"In addition to garnering support and investigating underground movements, work to sabotage Estevez's plans in any way possible. Report all suspicious activity related or not to me. Bring names of all possible contacts tonight. Do not inform them of our actions yet. Under no circumstances are you to talk to anyone of middle class or above even if they sympathize.
We will meet at the address given below. Delete this message after you finish reading it."
Alexis put the datapad down and looked at the door where the man had just left. Alexis had the sinking feeling that she had to get to know the man better.
I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please send me any comments you might have, good or bad. Copyrighted 2008 by Christine Schnell. Go ahead and share it with others just keep my name with it.
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