Monica
not being available was not good, not good at all.
The
longer a bot remains shorted out,
the more potential long term damage the excess heat and burned out fuses could
cause.
Although
I was not comfortable relying on a different mechanic, I had to make a choice
where there was no choice.
“I
guess we will just have to hope this other mechanic will have enough expertise
to fix him,” I said to Mia.
“Yes,
I guess so,” Mia said not sounding very confident.
In
the meantime, the sparks continued to shoot out of the president’s neck. Time was of the essence and I hoped that the
mechanic would get there soon.
While
standing there, staring at the president, I wondered why he was standing on
that side of the desk when he shorted out.
It almost appeared that he was casually leaning there talking to someone
else who may have been sitting in one of the chairs.
In
the time I have worked under President Aron, I have never known him to be casual around anyone
unless he really, really knew them. If he was sitting at the edge of his desk
talking to someone, why did they leave after he shorted out? Why did they not help him?
It
did not make sense to me, but it was not the time to try and sort it all out.
My focus had to be on trying to get the president fixed as soon as
possible.
Time
seemed to creep by and there was no sign of the mechanic. Mia called once again; attempting to reach
Monica and was assured that a qualified mechanic was on the way.
“This
is an odd time for the president to short out,” Mia said after a while.
“I
was thinking the same thing. Do you
think this has something to do with the press conference?”
“Maybe, he seemed to be on edge the rest of the day yesterday. Perhaps his emotional response system just
could not take the pressure.”
“Yes,
but still…it is odd.”
“I
think I should call his bot
mate.”
“Yes, that would be wise,” I answered as we continued to stare.
Mia
pulled out her cell phone once again and called Priscilla; filling her in on
the situation.
Priscilla
arrived quickly; as if she started out on her jets as soon as she heard Mia’s
concerned voice. “Oh Aron! I told you that this job would eventually get
the best of you,” she said, not surprised that his system finally gave in to
the pressure.
“How
long has he been like this?” Priscilla
asked.
“We do not know. He was like this when
we got here,” I answered.
The
mechanic that finally arrived was one I had never seen before. If the situation was not so serious, I may
have taken the time to ask of his qualifications, or at least his name. But instead we allowed him to get right to
work.
First
the mechanic attempted to remove the President’s skull plate to gain access to
President Aron’s central processing
unit. He seemed to have a hard time
unscrewing it. “It is practically melted on,” he said, frustrated.
“Melted
on?” Mia, Priscilla and I said at the
same time. Neither of us had never heard
of a bot overheating to the
point that their skull plate melted on.
After spending some time fiddling around, the mechanic was finally able to
unscrew it. “OK, I have it off,” the mechanic said sounding just as relieved as
we all felt.
“Oh
my!” The mechanic suddenly said,
slightly backing away from the President.
“What
is it?” I asked.
“I cannot fix him. The President did not
just short out.”
“It
looks like someone took a blowtorch to him.
His whole system has been burned out...”
“He
is not repairable.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. “There has to be something you can do!”
“I
am sorry, but this is now a crime scene.
The President has been murdered.”
It
took a minute for the mechanic’s words to sink in. Murdered?
It was a word unheard of within the bot community. How
can a bot…a mechanical
being…be murdered?
Mia
and I stood shocked. “Murdered?” I
repeated at last.
I
do not think that any of us had ever realized that such a thing could happen.
Priscilla
had a really hard time comprehending what the mechanic was telling us. “So how long will it take to replace his
central processing unit and get him back in working order?” She asked.
“Ma’am,
it cannot just be replaced. If we put in
a new system, he would be a different bot…no longer having the same thoughts, memories or
personality.”
“How could this happen?”
“Someone
really knew what they were doing. Even I
never thought it possible,” the mechanic answered.
This got my attention. There are not
many who would know how to completely destroy a bot.
“This
is not acceptable! I demand that you fix
him immediately! If you cannot do it,
then you need to find someone who can!”
“I
am so sorry for your loss madam first lady, but no one could repair him.
His system has been completely destroyed.”
“No!” Priscilla insisted. “Where is Monica!”
“Bots
cannot be murdered. We
are…we…dead?” She said finally losing
steam and realizing that there is really no way to repair her bot mate.
The
mechanic turned to me. “I am really
sorry. I would advise you to call the
cops. This is now in their hands.”
I
walked over to him. “Thank you for
trying.”
“I
really did all I could,” he said once again, I am sure in an attempt to remove
any liability for the President’s death from himself.
“I know,” I assured him.
“Oh
no! The President is dead!” He suddenly
cried out; for the first time really letting the situation sink in.
“The
President is dead!” He said once again
walking toward the door.
Mia
stood to the side, not speaking. I could
see her grief all over her face.
With
everyone in the middle of dealing with the news in their own way, I could see
that I had to be the one to gain control of the situation.
“Mia,
call the police,” I directed.
Labels: Metallic Heart
