13 Drops of Blood - By James Roy Daley Page 0,55

That was close; there’s so much I need to tell you.”

“Where are we going?”

“Huh? Oh, to your work.”

Shirley turned her head and looked at Blue with her mouth gawking. “My work?”

“You’re a scientist, right? You’re one of the planet’s top minds.”

“Well, I don’t know about that.”

“You’re high up on the food chain, are you not?”

“I’m connected, but it’s been through hard work, not brilliance. I’ve never been at the top of my class. Not once.”

Blue nodded.

Shirley rubbed a hand across her face, stretching her skin. She said, “First of all, you should sit in the front seat.”

“You hate when I’m in the front.”

“Yeah but… its different now. You’re allowed.”

Blue nodded, understanding. “Thank you.”

They came to an intersection and Shirley had no choice but to stop behind a white pick-up, unless of course, she wanted to start driving around the truck and through the red light; she didn’t. Blueberry leapt into the front seat and got comfortable, sitting with his back straight. A dog walked across the road and stood between the two vehicles, sniffing and growling. It was a mixed breed with no tags, lean and strong. The hairs on its back stood directly up. It didn’t bark or make sudden movements. Its unclipped tail didn’t wag. The dog seemed to understand that it couldn’t get inside the car.

Shirley watched the dog nervously, then something caught her eye: Another dog, another mutt. Its long dark hair was shaggy; its paws were filthy. The area around its mouth was wet and smeared with something that looked like dark red jelly. It walked towards the car, eyes primed for battle.

When the light changed from red to green the first dog stepped out of her way. The truck turned right and Shirley drove ahead quickly. She wanted to ask about the dogs on the street, but had another question that seemed more pressing.

“Why are we going to my work?”

“We have a problem, a scientific one.”

“Go on.”

Blueberry licked his snout. “I said something like, ‘all dogs are robots’, right? Well, my statement wasn’t completely accurate. The truth is, all dogs are not robots. All dogs are ONE robot. We’re part of a collective. We have different lives and different temperaments, but we are one in the same. Think of us like different parts of a single computer, working in wireless harmony with a collective goal and a communal objective.”

“Which is?”

Blue looked out the window and huffed. “You probably don’t know this, but the human race isn’t the top of the food chain. We are.”

Shirley released a nervous laugh. “Yeah, right.”

“Tell me, what does a King do?”

“I don’t know…”

“Let me enlighten you. A King sits on his ass, and his slave wipes it. Understand?”

Shirley didn’t understand at first, then her fingers began to tighten around the steering wheel and her stomach started to clench. She turned her head, looking at her pet through fresh eyes. She thought about the money she had spent feeding him and the countless times she picked shit from the yard. And for the first time ever, Shirley was mad at her dog. “Yeah. I guess I do understand.”

“Don’t be upset,” Blue said. “It’s just the way it is. And yes, I’m aware that all dogs are not treated like Kings. The ones that are treated poorly endure their misfortune for the greater good.”

They drove over a rolling hill and spotted five more dogs at the side of road. Four were rottweilers, brimming with teeth and muscle. The other was a bulldog. The animals turned their heads, watching the car go by.

“Is it just me, or is there more dogs around now?”

“They’re tracking us.”

“How?”

“They have a wireless connection to me. It’s impossible for me to escape them.”

“What if I remove the chip?”

“It would be comparable to a doctor removing every blood cell.”

Shirley nodded. In time, she said, “You didn’t answer my question. Why are we going to my work?”

“I’ll explain the situation the best I can. You ready?”

“I suppose so.”

“Okay. Here we go: in the days of my creation there were a great many conflicts, achievements, and wars. The continents were laid out different, so life forms squabbled over different landmasses. In today’s world we have achieved a universal checkmate, in a sense. If you blow me up, I’ll blow you up. But in my day our focus was different. Our relationships with other life forms were different. Earth didn’t have one dominate species, it had thousands––all advancing in different ways with distinctive concepts and idiosyncratic values. I was created to

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