Alive
A fan fiction in progress
by Bryan Harrison
Part 19
1
David ran to the bow, grasped the fore-stay and swung himself over the bowsprit, to dangle above the waters that frothed at the hull of the boat. The day was bright and the salt air crisp against his face. But that wasn't the reason for his excitement. On the foggy horizon ahead, he could finally see the great monoliths of Manhattan jutting from the ocean.
They had arrived!
He laughed and called out, "Hiro! Chiyoko! Come see this!" The couple made no response. But when he turned to fetch them he saw that they were already on the deck, arms wrapped around one another, watching him.
"The End Of The World!" David said, gesturing excitedly towards the distant ruins.
"Yes, David. I see", Hiro said, his tone hovering between a laugh and a sigh.
Chiyoko said nothing. As usual. And the ever-present frown was still on her face. But there were emotions in her eyes as deep as the waters beneath.
She would miss him. They both would
And he would miss them too.
Had it really been only a week?
2
Hiro had set out quickly that first night, immediately after wrapping David's ankle in an improvised splint, (made, ironically, from the support braces of a discarded Mecha leg.) He'd explained to David that it wasn't safe to sleep docked; that there were too many desperate people that roamed at night. So the sky was still dark when they unmoored to set anchor a mile or so offshore.
"We can sleep secure now. Set out at daylight," Hiro said, helping David to a small cot Chiyoko had set up for him inside the large cabin.
David was surprised that she'd gone to the effort. He wasn't quite sure what to make of her, at first. And she seemed not sure what to make of David; had been frowning at him ever since Hiro had carried him aboard. But at least she's put the gun away.
"You're a skinny boy," she'd said numerous times, clucking her tongue, squinting skeptical eyes at him. "And why a teddy bear? Child's toy!"
David started to explain, but realized it would be way too complicated. He just shrugged in response. Chiyoko shook her head.
"Well, you turn it off til you get to Manhattan. Noisy thing!" she'd complained and ambled away, grumbling something about skinny boys with children's toys. But then she'd surprised David by returning with a large container of steaming soup and setting it by his cot.
He had politely declined. It wasn't that it was bad. In fact the aroma had been quite invigorating. But he didn't feel like eating, or even sleeping, that night. One might have thought that his time imprisoned in the deep (which he could barely remember now) would have prepared him for life on the rollicking waters. But he'd quickly found his head spinning and his stomach turning once the boat set out. For his first day at sea, he could keep nothing down, and had spent most his time clinging to anything secure while trying to keep the weight off his ankle..
But like all things, good and bad, these problems also passed. By the time the second night fell, he was feeling better. The swelling in his ankle was gone and he'd fallen easily into a deep slumber.
He'd found himself in a strange blue dream that night, one he'd had before but could never recall upon waking. The next morning he'd risen, rested and alert, to find another container of Chiyoko's hot soup sitting by his cot. He'd downed this one quickly; a tasty combination of spiced fish and vegetables, and then made his way up to the deck where he found Hiro sorting through piles of what many might call garbage.
Chiyoko was there too, sitting in a chair. She'd looked at David, confused, her eyes jumping back and forth between his face and the ankle that seemed to have healed overnight.
"You get better fast," Hiro observed with a laugh. David returned his smile but made no response. Chiyoko continued to stare at him suspiciously. An unspoken question lingered in her eyes for a moment, but then evaporated as her thoughts went elsewhere.
"You learn this," she had commanded, pointing at the pile of discarded treasure. David willingly sat down beside Hiro and the man had proceeded to show him how to find valuables in the trash. They'd sorted through almost a week's gatherings that day, and David was amazed at Hiro's knowledge on the subject of salvaging junk.
"Look here," the man said, holding up slim band of metal with a greenish tint to it. "A rogue's broken restriction belt," he explained. "It was probably a servant of some kind." He'd went on to explain that the belts were usually placed under the skin of the head and if the bot gets stolen, the thieves would cut it out and throw it away.
"If the bot is smart enough they find a way to do it themselves," he'd said with a wink. "But lately they've been installing perimeter restrictions. Automatic cutoff points." Hiro sighed when he said this. "Too bad. The restriction belts were an easy sell but most of the newer models don't have them."
A flash of memory crossed David's mind: Angelo's face, frozen against a dreary gray backdrop of forest. He didn't let the sadness reach his face.
"Why can't they just program the robot to not run away?" David asked, partly because he felt the need to change the subject, and partly because he was genuinely curious. It had occurred to him how little he knew about himself… about what he used to be.
Hiro seemed grateful for the question. "Ahh that!" he said cheerfully. "Well it has to do with motivations, David. Motivations define choices and choices define personality."
David wrinkled his brow. "What do you mean?" he said.
Hiro stood and adopted his professorial posture. "In the old days robots had to be told everything. You had to be very specific about what you wanted when you spoke to them, or you would wind up with strange responses. 'Garbage in, garbage out', they used to say.
"Let's say I was to line up a set of images before you. A dog, a plane and a boat. Then I was to tell you to point to the boat. What would you do?"
This was kind of silly, David thought. "Point to the picture of the boat," he said. Then he shrugged, certain that it was some kind of trick question. "Right?"
"Of course, Hiro laughed. "But if you were an older robot, one incapable of abstract thinking, you might point down to the deck beneath you. Because that is a boat. The other is just a picture of a boat."
"Ah," David said. "So you would have to say 'point to the picture of a boat'."
"Correct, my young friend!" Hiro replied. "Now this is just an example, but what I am talking about is context, David. Context is everything, as they used to say."
"Who?" David said.
"Who what?"
"Who used to say that?"
Hiro laughed. "Good boy! You exemplified my point exactly!"
David didn't realize he'd made a joke, but decided he liked the look of approval in Hiro's eyes and let the question stand.
"'They' is an abstract, David," Hiro explained. "And the picture is also an abstract. Being capable of abstract thinking, you understood what I meant and picked the picture of a boat, even though I specifically asked you to point to the boat. That's context.
"The simple, literal mind, though, would not comprehend the context, and therefore not get the abstract. From the abstract we get the symbolism; the meaning behind the image, or the words. The true story, as it were."
"Oh," David said not really understanding, but certain he would. Eventually. Hiro continued.
"So, you may ask, how does this tie into using restriction belts instead of programming? Well, if you want a robot to be capable of higher abstract reasoning, for example, a butler who won't throw away the potting soil you just bought because it's dirt, without you having to tell it, … then you have to allow its mind to form associations on its own. The more you limit that mental growth with predefined definitions and responses, the more you limit the brain's ability to learn and adapt to new and undefined situations.
"So if we do not let the robot have the choice of running away, it never includes that option into its choices, and choices define personality."
The man was quiet, letting the boy digest this.
David hummed thoughtfully. "So, if the robot is allowed the option of running away," he said, "then it will be able to make the choice of not doing it, which will let it learn… " David stopped, lost for words. He understood the principle, but didn't know how to say it.
Hiro stepped in. "Not having the option makes you a robot. Having the option of running away but being aware of the consequences, allows the robot to develop an understanding of choices and consequences, and that defines personality."
The impact of Angelo's sacrificial decision came back into David's mind. He looked away, certain that the pain of losing his friend would reach his face this time. Hiro misunderstood David's sudden distraction to mean he was getting bored with the subject.
"Oh, listen to me go on!" the man laughed. He picked up the old restriction belt. "Most people don't know this," he said, "but these can be converted for use as solar cells. Let me show you!"
He'd taken David to the roof of the cabin. It was covered with bits and pieces from discarded toys and Mecha. They been shaped into a dish that caught the sunlight and turned it into power to drive the computers and machinery that moved the boat on days the winds were not enough.
"Nothing wasted, David," Hiro said proudly. "And that too is a choice."
David nodded to acknowledge the lesson. Hiro laughed again, and ruffled the boy's hair.
Chiyoko's voice boomed from the cabin. "You two! No more talk! Back to work!"
Hiro feigned alarm. "The boss has spoken!" he stage whispered as he climbed back down to the deck.
3
The night had come mercifully, putting a stop to their work. David's hands ached from sorting though rubbish. His shoulders were sore from carrying objects into the hull. Chiyoko seemed to take some satisfaction in this, or at least the faint smile in the corner of her mouth suggested she did. She had prepared meals silently as Hiro chatted on about history and politics, robots and philosophy. David listened attentively, trying to follow the man, though he didn't understand most of what was said. It was also harder to retain information. And this bothered him.
In his former life he had been able to retain things instantly, names, date numbers… anything! Now he found himself asking Hiro to repeat things, or having to later be refreshed about a date of an event as Hiro recounted things that had happened before his father's father had been born.
But there was something Hiro said that David would not forget. A date. It was Chiyoko's reaction would lock it in his mind.
Hiro had been speaking about robots again, elaborating on the themes he had established earlier. David had wondered why a man who knew so much about robots didn't own one. He was about to ask this rather obvious question when Hiro said,
"And if ever there was an event that stressed the importance of robots it was 3/11. Now if they had functional Mecha, the human workers would not have had to be exposed to the…" The man stopped when he noticed the look on his wife's face. David saw it too. Her brow was creased and her mouth pinched, as if to say, 'do you have to talk about that?"
It was the first time David had seen any vulnerability in the wrinkled fortress of her expression.
"Exposed to what?" he said, intrigued by her reaction.
Hiro clucked his tongue, and tapped his fingers on the table. "Well, it's dark enough outside," the man said. "No need to bring the darkness in here too." Then his face lit up. "Have you ever seen a navigation system?" he said.
David spent the remainder of the night learning about digital radar, ocean floor imaging and geo-synchronous satellites.
4
When exactly their bond had formed David would not be able to recall. But as the days passed he came to feel at home, like he belonged here. Mommy's face was still in his head. The drive to be with her was an ever present tugging at his heart, amplified during the silent nights on the cot. But she was like a distant goal. Sailing the sea with Hiro and Chiyoko had become his life for now; salvaging the submerged treasures from sunken cities. Selling them at the various ports that lined beaches that were often less than a generation old. He quickly adapted to it all.
On the sixth day at sea, as he was helping Hiro unload a pallet of salvaged junk in the improvised port of a half-submerged town that had once had the strange name of 'Ramsey', David noticed a burly old dock hand looking at him strangely.
Ever aware that he might be recognized, in spite of his now shoulder length hair and golden tan, David tried to avoid the gaze. But when the man persisted, he had taken another tact.
"What the hell you looking at?" David demanded, taking on a challenging posture he had learned from the wild boys in the forest.
The man hadn't seemed daunted by the response. He'd simply nodded at Hiro who was bartering with the man's partner, and said, "So how you know ol' Hiro here?"
David though about it for a moment.
"He's…my Dad," he replied, taking pleasure in the confused look that came into the man's face. He also took pleasure in the thought that he would have a man like Hiro for a father. The man would have been as good a candidate as any he had met so far.
5
That night, the one that would be their last together, they'd been sitting on the deck. The cabin lights had been turned off and David was lying on his back, hands folded behind his head, enjoying the panorama of stars above, listening to the sea lapping against the hull and pondering all the things Hiro had spoken of. What a grand puzzle, this humanity.
Chiyoko had finally allowed him to turn Teddy back on, and the little bear was sitting quietly on a pile of sorted discards, curiously eyeing the old couple, who were sitting in deck chairs, eying David with fond expressions.
"Haven't seen a storm all week," Hiro said, breaking the silence. "You're good luck, David."
David looked up from where he lay. "Well I guess we both got lucky," he said.
Hiro chuckled, then his face sobered. "Next stop Manhattan," he said.
"Yes," David said, sadly. "So soon."
Hiro nodded, but said nothing. There was no need for words. He stood then, and kissed his wife gently on the head. "Don't stay up too late. We still have to get up early," he said. Then he'd walked into the cabin, leaving David and Chiyoko alone.
David was surprised by the man's exit. It was usually Chiyoko that was telling them it was time to sleep before she made her exit. He had maybe spent a whole of five minutes alone in the woman's presence. But strangely, he found he was comfortable with her now. He was also surprised when she cleared her throat and began to speak.
"You get much stronger now. Not so skinny anymore," she chuckled. "This is good."
David felt awkward with her compliment. But she was right. He did feel stronger… more 'here' than when he had joined them. He sat up and made a show of flexing his biceps for her amusement. She chuckled again.
"So what do you do at the End Of World?" she said.
This was the first time either of them had asked David that question, and he had to think a moment before he responded.
"I'm going to see my … a relative." He had almost said 'father'. Creator, yes. Father? No. There were too many conflicting feelings there.
"Ah! Good," Chiyoko said with a satisfied hum. "Family is good."
David looked at the woman. She gazed back with an unreadable expression, her eyes shadowed in the night.
"And your family?" he said, genuinely curious.
Now he could definitely read her face. She became reflective. David could see she was looking back, back to a time when life had been much different. But there was something dark there.
"They are gone now," she said.
David shuffled uncomfortably. The issue of mortality was still new to him and he had no idea how to proceed… or even if he should.
Eventually he settled for "I'm sorry to hear that." It was apparently the right response.
"Nice for you to say, David. You are a good young man. Not like so many bad boys I see in the city."
Again her compliment made David feel awkward. 'If you only knew' he thought.
"How did it happen?" he said, unsure if it was a proper question, but sensing that she wanted to tell him. He was right again. She leaned back and let out a long sigh.
"Many years ago, things happened. Bad things," she said. "I am from a place called Nippon-koku. You know that?"
David shrugged his shoulders. The name seemed familiar and he was sure it had once been in his databanks. But that was another life.
"You might call it Japan," she said.
"Oh, I know of that," David said, having vague recollections of boy dolls with soft Asian features hanging quietly on the Cybertronics wall. His brothers, yet to be awakened to the world of sensation.
Chiyoko nodded. "There is too much history to tell now. And I don't talk so much as Hiro," she said. They both laughed at this. Then she continued.
"But one day the earth shook in a great quake, and ocean rose. Higashi Nihon Daishinsai, we named it. It started near a place called Tōhoku. It was a tsunami, tidal wave in English, and it washed away so many lives. It happened on the eleventh day in the month of March in the year 2011, so many people call it 3/11. I don't like that. It is too easy to say; too short for so much death. So much tragedy."
David tried to imagine the waves crashing over the fleeing people; the sick and feeble unable to flee. And the children! His mind could not contain such horror. He was quiet a moment, intuitively knowing such statements needed space to settle.
"Is that how they… is that what took them away?" he said at last.
Chiyoko shook her head. "No, no. This was many, many years ago. Long before my grandparent's time, when the people of my family lived inland, far from the oceans. That place is now underwater with much of my country. But the waves could not have reached them.
"Many bad decisions were made by short-sighted men, David. They pursued dangerous sources of energy for expedience. For profit. These things became more important than people… than our future. They ignored the dangers; became reckless and took short cuts to make money. When the ocean rose, the energy facility was flooded. I can't tell you the science of these things, the world had to abandon them and they don't exist anymore, but it was called a melt down … and radiation was released. It affected the entire world, but our people suffered the most.
"They grew sick and illness has followed us down through the generations. Shortening our lives. When I was young, my family sent me away from that place. I was only 20 when I met Hiro and he took me to sea. I escaped the poisoned land. But I have not seen my family since."
David thought he might understand her now.
"That's sad," he said, not having any other words to express his feelings. They sat quietly for a time, letting this new relationship grow between them. Finally Chiyoko rose and touched David gently on the shoulder.
"A flower falls, even though we love it; and a weed grows, even though we do not love it"
She spoke so softly that David wasn't even sure he'd heard her. He absorbed the words in silence, wondering at their meaning. The old woman laughed suddenly, sounding strangely like Hiro for one moment.
"That is the words of Dagon, a famous thinker from our history, David," she said. "It is like saying the world will be what it is, good or bad, in spite our feelings.
"But still we must make decisions, David," she said. "And our choices affect more than ourselves. They affect the world."
"Yes, Ma'am," David said, understanding now that this had been more than just a story; that she had been trying to tell him something important. But why? He looked up into her piercing black eyes, pondering the depths of unspoken wisdom that lay behind them. There was a new connection there, like an inaudible whisper that passed between them.
"Time for bed now," she said, and made her way to be with her man. The only family she had left.
6
Now they were passing through the shadow cast by the great torch of the submerged statue. It loomed over the boat like a giant stone sentry, marking the end of the known world. David knew there was another statue nearby, one to which he had prayed and had been granted this new life. But he did not know how to find her again. He quickly pushed the thought away. It was strange. Why he would want to find the fairy again?
He was distracted from his thoughts by the cries of birds that had nested in the folds and cranny of the stone torch. They were making a squawking din, hovering over the boat to see if there was anything edible on the decks. Hiro rushed out to wave them away. Then the boat's alert system came to life, blaring a static message to all aboard.
"Warning to occupants. You are entering a Mecha Restricted Area. Infractions will be duly prosecuted."
It finally occurred to David why the couple had no Mecha on board.
"You'll have to turn the bear off David," Hiro said.
David was about to point out that he had once flown into the city without any problem. But then realized that would require more explanation than they had time for.
"Sorry Teddy," he said as he picked the toy up and rendered it unconscious again.
Soon they were passing though the cluster of silent towers, floating over the sunken streets of Manhattan. David had come in by air the last time he'd been here, and the roar of the copter's motor had been the only sound. But the boat's engine was barely a hum and David could hear the strange noises of the sunken city; the creaking of the rusted skyscrapers, the clang of dangling metal infrastructure striking the stone buildings in the breeze, the lonely whistle of wind though broken windows of the buildings all around.
And… music!
Music?
It was only a distant thump at first, but as they rounded one of the buildings David could hear it clearly, and see other boats docked alongside one of the towers. Then he saw people peeking out from windows. Some of them were dancing to the music, others were laying around talking or drinking from large frothing mugs. One of them, a large burly man with a furry gray beard and tattered, colorful clothing, noticed Hiro's boat floating by, and jumped out onto a balcony. He waved at them to come over. But Hiro made a circling gesture with his arm to signify he'd be back later. The man held up a thumb to let him know he'd be waiting, and then went back into the building.
"They live in that place?" David said.
Hiro laughed. "Well, who do you think I do business with around here?" he said.
Then David noticed people in the windows of other buildings far ahead, and floating in boats, fishing or lowering large cables into the water. David was mystified by it all. He had not noticed them before.
"Life goes on David," Hiro said. "They're salvagers, hauling up the stuff too big for the divers to get. I used to dive. But the waters are too dungeons now. If I get hurt Chiyoko would be alone." The man's face grew grim for a minute. Then his smile came back.
"You'd be surprised what they find around here!" he said. "Why, not too long ago they even found a boy!" he laughed again. "A real live boy! Can you believe that?
David's heart jumped. He made a sound of surprised acknowledgement, but did not look at the man. He pretended to be absorbed in what the divers were doing on a passing boat, hoping Hiro would take his reluctance for disinterest and change the subject.
"I wasn't here that day," Hiro said, "but a couple of locals told me all about it. Said cops were all over the place. And there was something mysterious about the whole affair. Some Government people showed up, blockaded the city, asked everybody questions. Apparently there was some kind of security breach, but it was all hush hush. Somehow a kid had stolen an old police amphibi…"
The man's words trailed off suddenly. David could hear his breathing quicken, feel the man's eye on him.
"Why did you really come here, David," Hiro said cautiously.
David sighed and turned his head up slowly to see Hiro gazing on him with suspicious eyes. David returned the look expressionlessly. The man's curiosity slowly bloomed into realization, and then to shock as they stared at each other in silence.
"Do you trust me, Hiro?" David said at last.
Hiro did not respond at first. Then nodded slowly, confounded by the confirmation, knowing better than to ask anything more. He continued to stare at David as a low rumbling grew in the distance. It was the sound of an undying river of tears crashing into the ocean.
"I'm coming home," David said. "To the place where the lions weep."
7
David knew this place. He had once watched his friend ascend to the sky here, caught up in the pull of a police tractor beam. It hadn't changed in all that time.
The Cybertronics building rose from the ocean to tower high above them; the sunlight reflecting off its green surface cast an eerie tint on the ocean. David had a flash recollection of falling from the wall of the great building. He pushed that memory aside. There was still pain in these recollections; pain that no creature, flesh or fiber, should have to suffer.
Chiyoko had stopped the boat and the plank had automatically hummed to life, creating a walkway to the dock. Silently David gathered his bag and stood before the plank. The bear would be too cumbersome to carry, so he turned it back on. Teddy awoke with a grunt and took in the surroundings.
"Where is this place, David?" Teddy said.
"The waters and the wild," David said, taking the toy's hand. Then he turned to say goodbye to his friends.
"Will you be ok?" Hiro said, not able to contain the emotion in his voice. "Should we wait for you?"
"I don't know what will happen here, Hiro," David said. "There might be… trouble. I don't want you two to get caught up in my problems."
Hiro thought for a moment. Then he looked at Chiyoko.
"What do you say, Boss," he said, trying to be humorous, but too sad to summon his typical laugh.
The old woman stared at David with guarded eyes. Then she walked quickly forward to wrap her old arms tightly around him. David let go of Teddy and returned the woman's embrace. After a moment Hiro joined them. The trio stood that way for some time, holding each other quietly, letting their bond solidify by the natural process of human contact.
When she finally stepped back, the woman's cheeks were wet with fresh tears, And there was something new there; something that Hiro had rarely seen, and David never.
She was smiling.
"We will wait for you, boy," Chiyoko said.
It was David's turn to let a tear fall.
"Ok," he said when he'd regained composure. "But if the police come…" He thrust his chin up. "I don't want either of you in trouble."
The two signaled that they understood.
Dark clouds had gathered on the distant horizon. The winds had begun to kick up.
A storm was coming.
David took Teddy's hand again and turned to make his way over the plank and into the dark corridors that led from the old abandoned dock into the great Cybertronics building, from which he had been wrought, and where his past, and his future, would be revealed
(cont…)