I.

"I protect her because I love her, not because two gigantic robots asked me to…"

"What exactly do you want us to do?" Adhara asked. She was a blonde lady in her forties.

"Yes, we already have guardians posted at the launch pad entrance in middle Zephyron."

Mossec, a black-haired man with gray around the roots, offered. "We need to get back."

"You know the reason why we do not wish to further populate the earth is because we do not wish to endanger it more." Trina was talking to herself as she paced the empty throne room her niece had always been escorted from. "After Kina's botched cyborg experiment, the unborn Omega children were sentenced to termination. The only two to escape such a terrible fate were Abba and Taylor's daughter. She cannot do this to me." Trina lamented.

"Please my dear." Mossec caught her by the shoulders and shook them. "Stop this."

"We understand your plight," Adhara tried to sympathize with her. "We ourselves at the school are still unaware of how humans are born. An entire generation was lost due to the carelessness of the ones thirty years earlier in the Western Hemisphere, but we cannot…"

She looked to her partner.

"We cannot go searching for the daughter of a legend." The man was less then patient. "I believe he left of his own accord for the past with another droid some time ago when we were still children. Keeping the older population alive for as long as we can, providing our parents what they did not get their entire lives, that is our goal now. You dear," he steered Trina's shoulder around and pointed out at the setting sun. "are not contributing to them."

Adhara offered one last bit of advise before their self-transmuting clones took them away.

"Perhaps you can help us by coming to lower Zephyron, we need all the help we can get."

Trina turned her dark hazel eyes onto the artifact she held in her hand. So much of the past was hidden in the uninhabitable parts of the world, only a few door access cards and some of Abba's old expandable diapers were hidden away in Trina's quarters below the castle. It would seem that yet again Trina's family had failed; whether it be accidentally unleashing a mass of 7000 droids onto the earth, betraying one's family or even just coming to be born.

Trina knew Abba could not be stopped. She was a reflection of treason and failure.

…

"Thank you, Sputnik." The thirty-five-year-old woman smiled up at her guardian droid. "I believe Tress will have difficulty keeping up with that hologram on the Iron Rails, right?"

The droid did not respond to her but merely cocked it's head.

They were in a regularly inhabited part of Middle Zephyron. Fifty-to-sixty-year old nurses, scientists, droid fixers (like Trina), waste cleaners, restaurant owners and even some of the former World Affairs Council members lived here. The décor was modeled after ideas the Giant had heard from Taylor Evans and the elaborate stories of the Victorian era she told.

It was in this part of Zephyron that silent air fans powered an easy life for these people in their brownish-red and yellow-golden brick homes. The interiors had an airstream design while still having a 2201 influence. The parts that looked like they were something out of the eighteen-hundreds were the poled air propulsion systems located inside the basements.

Abba, however, had other things in mind.

"According to the Alpha Scientists records, project Android Marketers lies under these roads." The gleaming ruby red cobblestone made her reconsider what she was doing. A quick sweep of the streets showed that her father's clones were busily shining them. The ones who weren't were inspecting homes or transporting humans by self transmutation. It made Abba sad to see this. "I believe my father would want us all to be equal, he said that even the woman who inspired much of our architecture wanted this. Am I right Sputnik?"

The droid that looked like her father did not answer.

"I want to do this for you," She said in a quiet voice, looking down at her green shoes. "I want to do this for humanity. If we only focus on the past we will not ever have a future."

"Future," Sputnik responded. As dusk settled and the moon and Jupiter appeared faraway as they should, Abba recalled the day Trina had assigned her this droid after the Giant and Gold left to see Hogarth. She raised her hand for him to take it; instead it only bent down.

"Are you ready to go now?" It asked.

Abba sighed softly and boarded it's hand. Tonight she would stay with some old friends.

"I can only hope changing your kind into humans will give me purpose."

The clone carried her off, unaware of itself as a separate entity.

II.

Three chili cheese dogs, one large hamburger, two medium fries and a diet cherry limeade from Sonic. A large comfy couch and an empty living room waited to be used to check the new submissions journalists would send for the Chief Editor's approval. God what a night.

Breathing out his last breath of ketchup and salt, Hogarth collapsed onto the long sinking cushions and finished his decent with a dramatic shoulder drop. Transitioning from army life back to being a civilian ten years earlier had been miserable for Hogarth. He felt the effects of it from his head to his toes. Wincing a bit, taking a chance, the man started to unbutton the flannel shirt he had thrown on before his fast food binge. The pressure of hiding so much underneath was starting to get to him as his air pipes fought to function.

Just below his gray-and-blue striped material was a tight, dark green girdle, two sturdy leather belts fastened at the top and bottom as a sort of reinforcement. Hogarth took a moment to let what he had done to himself sink in before he slowly undid the top belt.

There was a little push from the top of the girdle but only a single hump formed. Then Hogarth meticulously used his right hand to undo the tiny knots at the front. Bit by bit white flesh poked up from the deep green strands. Hogarth began to relax more, fairly certain that at twelve-thirty no one was getting up now. He smiled with this new sense of freedom and undid his last belt while feeling fully safe – With that came the real gain.

"Huuuuhhh," Hogarth reclined back, rubbing his large belly, "Finally," he breathed.

Though he still kept his left nub in bandages, he used his arm to draw in his dark gray laptop. Hogarth knew it was dangerous to expose your skin to the warm plastic on it. With the '99 model resting on his soft flesh, he clicked a button and listened to the fan turn on inside. A recent submission from a one-year graduate flashed across his screen.

" 'Recent Modern Day Sightings of the Monster of Rockwell Lake.' " By Amanda Owens.

Hogarth frowned to himself and shook his head as he e-mailed Miss Owens back.

"The lake? The Giant did not come out of our lake." He murmured.

Before the man could become saddened by the earlier events of the day, a push against his laptop made him shift his attention to the metal creature trying to occupy his time. Pygmy purposely rubbed against the top of the computer in her cat form and came closer to him.

"Hey Pygmy," Hogarth smiled tiredly, scratching the "feline" behind her mechanical ear.

"Today good?" She asked.

"It could have gone better." He answered as he set the laptop aside.

The robot never craved more in life then just to be loved; she was so simple like the Giant had once been and had never outgrown her demeanor or speech. Whether her eternal little girl personality was a charade, a preference or an unusual inability to mature had not ever been made known to Hogarth. Pygmy never went deeper than her love; she munched on the metal Hogarth told her she could seek out and did what she was told. She waited for him as she always did and never seemed to want more. Even technically being thirty plus years of age and having had time to gain experience, Pygmy couldn't or wouldn't change.

With just her standing on his stomach now Hogarth released a sigh and pulled up on it.

"I've gotta lose weight." He said absently as the meaty flesh overlapped his hands.

Pygmy walked up in contradiction to the top, found a soft place and curled up.

"Oh. Heh," Hogarth stroked her head. "You like my big belly, huh?"

He was so use to her he felt the shift in her mood instantly.

"I know you miss Taylor."

The little ball of metal squeezed tighter and this made Hogarth's heart do so as well.

"We'll see them again," he continued stroking her head, "We saw the Giant. We'll see…"

Finally the memory of the cavern got to him. Hogarth buried his face in his hands.

'What if I never see him again?' He thought.

At the soft sound of his breathy cry, Pygmy rose up on her feet and rubbed against his hands. Hogarth pulled the old plum afghan from the top of the couch and draped the heavy fabric around himself. His goddaughter did the cat stretch before coming closer.

"Love you Hogarth." She said as she went into his arms.

"Love you too, baby."

Some time passed with her settled against his chest, he would stroke her now and again.

"Thanks for loving me, even though I probably don't deserve it." Hogarth said at last.

All he wanted was his family together; Taylor, Ivan, Pygmy, the Giant, Julie…

There was suddenly a shuffling sound at the end of the couch, Hogarth reeled back and felt his defenses go up (again) at the sight of… his great-nephew. The man relaxed then.

Even though it had been long ago Hogarth still could not believe his sister was a forty-five-year-old grandmother. Her grandson, coincidentally named after the girl he'd loved and lost so many years before, was laying with his legs drawn in on the couch's armrest.

Pygmy moved from his arms and pawed over to the little boy. Hogarth was amazed by how much different he was then Tress, and yet somehow Hogarth saw a little of himself in Taylor. The boy had unbridled enthusiasm in the things he did and seemed to have a spark of imagination that for Hogarth had made life in the fifties livable. Pygmy placed her paw on the child's little arm and snuggled up against his chest. Hogarth smiled, seeing her do this was nothing new. A lot of the men had sworn their metal hats had come to life in the middle of the night and cuddled up next to them. Seeing the boy's smile got to Hogarth.

"Okay," he breathed. "Enough emotion for one night."

There was never a time nor place to express one's feelings for too long.

Manually the man got up, folded his blanket four ways and placed it over Taylor. 'Dean,' the name came to him. He started to reach out to stroke the boy's head but stopped just short of his hair. Sighing, Hogarth left them alone and went to the far side of the couch.

He stretched his flannel shirt as far as he could over himself, closed his eyes and took a deep breath before falling asleep. Taylor opened his eyes and saw his great uncle on the other side of the sofa. Grandpa used to call him sport, Grandpa used to play baseball and go fishing with him. That's all Taylor knew and what he knew was that not even his Dad did those things with him. Uncle Garth called him buddy and pal. He had played with him.

Tomorrow Dad had new business back in Portland and Taylor couldn't stay in Rockwell.

…

Pygmy turned to look up at the little boy with curious eyes. It had been so long since she had seen her god brother Ivan. She knew that Hogarth had tried before and had tried hard to go through the proper connections to see Taylor. In fact, Pygmy could still picture what Taylor looked like. She still knew what she sounded like. Time could not touch memories.

Taylor… Taylor…

"Taylor," Pygmy spoke to no one.

The child wiggled around with her in his arms.

"Mom?" he spoke.

"Taylor." Pygmy's voice grew a little higher.

"Yeah…?" His weary voice drifted out. He was responding in his sleep.

"Hogarth." The robot cat pulled Taylor off the armrest.

"Yes?" He asked a little more seriously, his face wrinkled in concentration.

Pygmy pulled the boy clear across the couch as she arrived on top of her godfather. She managed to drag Taylor up with her and Hogarth, in the midst of his slumber, wrapped his arms around both of them and brought them close to him. All three slept peacefully.

III. – The out limits of Rockwell.

"I won't fail you mother," A boyish figure walked straight into town. He had a head of brown-ish blonde hair and eyes the color of midnight blue. "I will journey to the future and retrieve the memory box to save you." His name was Ivan Grant Evans and his one goal in life was to keep his mother's spirit and body alive. He was a physical time bridge.

To be continued…

~ Lavenderpaw ~