soberly. There was no hint of fear or confusion. Just the subtle hint of apology to her voice as if to say, Technical difficulties, am I right, folks? “Just one moment as we switch over to another feed or get some word from the ground.”
I logged on to the city’s Wi-Fi band and began scanning other streams. No one had the feed, and everyone was scrambling to get it back. What might be one of the greatest speeches of the modern era was being lost to a technical glitch, and that meant dropping ratings every second as people switched from station to station, looking to get a feed that worked.
“What happened to the robots?” asked Ezra.
“They lost their link to the video,” said Sylvia.
“Maybe try another channel,” suggested Bradley.
“None of the other channels have the feed,” said Ariadne. “They’re trying to get it back.”
I was monitoring twenty streams at once, all of them scrambling for a link back in. Then one stream popped out at me. “Oh my God,” said the anchor of one network.
Then another stream. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Holy shit,” said another.
“Uh, can you repeat that?” asked another.
For a moment, there was a collective silence as everyone listened to their earpieces.
“Someone is saying sabotage.”
“Can you confirm that?”
“A flash?”
“Explosion?”
“Wait, did you say bomb?”
“Somebody is saying there was a bomb.”
Bomb.
Bomb.
Bomb.
They all started saying bomb.
Then the anchor on our screen touched her earpiece, a look of horror flashing across her eyes in an instant. She turned, looked into the camera, and just as her mouth opened, I switched off the screen.
“What happened?” asked Ezra.
I looked at Bradley and Sylvia and stood up. “There appears to be a problem with the feed. May I speak with one of you in the other room?”
Bradley motioned to Sylvia, and she stood up, following me into the kitchen. When we were just out of earshot, I stopped and began to speak at the lowest volume I knew Sylvia could hear. “Reports are coming in that there was some sort of explosion or attack on the rally. You have me set to limit Ezra’s exposure to real-world violence to a minimum. I would advise sending him to bed with the explanation that the feed is broken, and since there are no humans in there, no one can turn it back on tonight.”
“Explosion?” she asked incredulously.
“It’s still early and unconfirmed, but just in case . . .”
“And if he wants to stay up just in case?”
“I’ll tell him I’ll record it and show him the rally in the morning.”
“I think that’s wise. But, Pounce . . .”
“Yes?”
“How are . . . I mean . . . how do you feel about that?”
“Feel, ma’am?”
“Yes. Feel. About an attack.”
I paused. I hadn’t thought about it. Not that way.
“I hope they’re all all right, but my concern is how this might affect Ezra right now. He seemed quite invested in the rally. If what he witnessed was a terrorist action, those memories could haunt him for quite some time. I have materials I can share with you both later.”
Sylvia looked at me and smiled. “You really are a robot.”
Then she turned and went back into the living room.
For a moment, I stood there, her words hitting me like a truck. You really are a robot. I really was a robot. But she meant just, didn’t she? She meant just a robot. I hadn’t had time to process how the attack might affect me, but I could say with certainty how that one sentence felt. It didn’t just hurt; it cut deep. Drunk though she was, I knew she meant it.
And all of a sudden, I had no idea who, or what, I really was.
I followed her into the living room as she was whispering to Bradley.
“It appears the feed is out for the night,” I announced. “Perhaps it’s time for bed.”
“NoOoOoOoOo . . .” bemoaned Ezra. “Just a little later?”
“No,” said Bradley. “I think Pounce is right.”
“But I want to see the rest of it!”
“I’ll record the next feed that comes up,” I said. “And a replay, when they have one. They have thousands of bots, all recording it. I’m certain there will be a great view of the speech by morning and we can watch it together.”
Ezra sighed. “Okay.”
“Come on, kiddo,” I said, taking him by the hand. “Let’s get you to dreamland.”
Ezra smiled and nodded. That’s how I took him to bed every night. With the promise of dreamland. Tonight, I hoped, would carry him off with