Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who took time out to leave a kind word! I'm having a ball with this, and hope you enjoy the next installment. I'm working on the next chapter now, as we must see what Sonny and the good doctor are up to. It would seem that Susan is going to have her hands full!
I,Robot is the property of the estate of Isaac Asimov, Twentieth Century Fox, and all other legally bond parties. But, alas, I am not one of them. I'm making nary a cent, so please be merciful and sue me not!
Spoonerville (aka Greater Chicago)
Evening:
Althea Martin locked the door of her townhouse and made sure her little boy, Bailey, was near.
"Come on, sweety. We have to hurry." She took his little hand in hers, and they walked to their destination. There weren't many people on the streets, not since the whole business with the killer robots. She had been sad to see theirs go, but she knew it was for the best. What if they 'malfunctioned' again? That night had been terrifying, even though she truly believed Ivan wouldn't have harmed them. She reached into her handbag and pulled out the business card that told her where tonight's meeting was. It was only her third time going, and she didn't agree with everything they said, but some of it made sense.
Maybe the world would be better off without them.
She placed the card back in her bag, satisfied they were headed the right way.
They stopped, waiting at the crosswalk, when Bailey pulled away from Althea and ran towards the busy intersection.
"Bailey, NO!" She ran out after him, but she knew she wouldn't reach him in time. The FedEx robot, passing by at the time, took 0.000001 of a second to notice, and before her eyes could register, her son was being handed back to her.
"Th-thank you," she sobbed.
"Mommy, why are we going home?"
She watched as the machine picked up the packages and continued down the street.
She crumpled the card on the sidewalk, and walked back to their home.
"I don't think it's the right place for us."
Connor Kenning moved as fast as a slightly debilitated man of eighty-five could. The meeting was going to start in a few minutes, and he hadn't been late for one yet. The apartment complex was located in one of the shadier parts of the city, but that fact didn't bother him in the least. The tech was older, and thankfully, there were hardly any dirty robots around to cause any trouble.
209A, the faux gold numbers read. He checked the card that had been passed to him earlier in the park. They couldn't run the risk of being discovered, thus all of the meetings were to take place in a different location each time.
He ambled in, and looked around, wondering where that nice young woman he usually sat by and her son were. He finally took a seat next to a pleasant-looking woman doing her knitting. She smiled warmly, and handed him a pamphlet:
The End Of Humanity
(and how you can prevent it)
The booklet was modest looking enough on the outside, but the inside was a completely different story. It gave detailed instructions on how to cause the most harm to the 'Robot Menace', places for the most effective attack on 'Robot Loving Humans', and the latest ways to create objects causing maximum damage using minimal tech.
The back included helpful tips for those on low income budgets and ways to start one's very own chapter of the Society for Humanity.
A hush came over the room, and all eyes settled to the front. A woman, no older than twenty eight years of age, stood at the makeshift podium in front of the fireplace. In any circle, she would be a stunner, and she was well aware of the effect she had on the men (and a couple of the women) in the room.
Her jet black hair was curled just so and fell down her back in luscious wave after wave. Her intense gray eyes sparkled, and held the room in their intelligent gaze. Her lips were ruby-red, and she offset the bordering-on-being-a-pinup look with a precisioned-pressed navy blue suit with ankle-length skirt. Topped off with a pair of patent leather black pumps complete with heels of sensible length.
In short, Pamela Mortimer was a conservative's wet dream come to life.
"Welcome to one of the most important gatherings of concerned members of humanity. I am so glad at the turnout this evening, and enormously excited to be standing before all of you, the architects of a new age!" She began to pace, making sure she made eye contact with every member of the Society.
"This truly is an exciting time we are living in. Before we start, I'd just like to say that I think I could stop after tonight's meeting, and never have to speak at another, for I know all of you in this room," she paused for emphasis, sweeping a delicately manicured hand toward the crowd, "could carry out the tasks set forth, and save the fate of humanity!"
She smiled brilliantly, knowing that she had them hooked. It was the same speech she used at every single meeting, and it never failed to amaze her how well it worked.
Every single time.
And it didn't matter if a few people were lost along the way; there were always many more, ready and willing to fight the good fight. She spoke eloquently, and had the crowd captivated, as usual.
Hours passed, and after going through every page in the book, supplies were passed out, teams were created, and plans set forth for the next poisonous gathering.
"Thank you, all of you, for being present tonight. With all of us working together, the robot menace will be defeated!"
Kenning stepped out into the brisk night air, invigorated. These truly were exciting times to be living in, as the pretty girl had said, and he was excited to play his part as architect of the new age.
He passed a grocery store on the way home to his far less modest dwelling, wondering for half a second if his guest might want to do with some dinner.
'Nah,' he decided, passing it by. 'The kid is young, he can last a few more days without food. Maybe I can give him a little water, but that will be enough. Can't go showing kindness to a robot lover.'
He whistled a rousing version of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" all along the path home.