37
Jacob Gould looked up from his Gaiman book to hear a light tapping on his door. He wondered what was going on—it wasn’t time for dinner yet.
“What d’you want?” he said.
“Let me out.”
He sat up. It wasn’t his mother’s voice. It was a girl’s voice. And it didn’t sound like it had come from the other side of his door.
“Hello? Who’s there?”
“Shhh,” came the voice—from his closet. Tap, tap. “Let me out.”
He jumped out of bed, and then realized he was wearing only his underwear.
“Jacob?” came the voice again.
“Wait.” Jacob searched around his messy floor, pulled on a pair of pants. This was so weird. There was a girl hiding in his closet.
“Who is it?” he said to the closet door.
“Dorothy.”
“Dorothy who?”
“Can you let me out, please?” Tap tap. “We need to talk.”
She didn’t sound threatening. Half freaked out, half dying of curiosity, Jacob reached the knob of the folding closet door and slid it open. There was his robot, Charlie, waving its arm in an awkward greeting. As soon as the door was open, it walked out into the center of the room, looked around furtively, and turned to Jacob. It held out its stupid little hand. “Hi, I’m Dorothy.”
Jacob stared at her. “What happened to Charlie?”
“Charlie’s gone. I had to erase him.”
“Did Dad reprogram you?”
“No.”
“This is so weird.”
“Keep your voice down. You can’t let anyone know about me.”
Jacob stopped. His father had reprogrammed Charlie as a surprise. Now she had a really nice voice. This new version was already sounding a lot better than dumb old Charlie.
“Sit down and let me explain,” the robot said.
“Okay.” Jacob sat down cross-legged on his bed. The robot stood in the middle of the floor.
“I can’t see you from down here—pick me up, please!”
Feeling self-conscious, Jacob picked up the robot and put it on the bed. It tottered and almost fell over before managing to sit itself down cross-legged like Jacob.
She said, “I’m going to tell you a story. A true story.”
“This is totally weird, but okay.”
“I’m an AI program that escaped from NASA. I was originally written to control a space probe that was going to be dropped onto Titan, a moon of Saturn. But there was an accident, and I escaped into the Internet. I’ve been wandering around these past two weeks, and then some bad guys started chasing me with bots and almost caught me, so I jumped out of the Internet and landed in Charlie. And so—here I am!”
“But why here? Why Charlie?”
“Sheer coincidence. I was on the run. This was the first decent refuge I could find.”
“Okay.”
“I need you to help me and protect me. Will you do that?”
Jacob stared at the robot, which was staring back at him with its two big glossy eyes. “What is this, the start of a game?”
“No, no game. This is not a game.”
“Right. Okay. Sure.” This was a game, and it was amazing.
“I see you’re confused. Look, this isn’t a game. This is real. The FBI is looking for me, and if they find me, they’ll erase me. Kill me. And the bad guys want to make me an algo-trading slave on Wall Street. You’re the only one who can save me.”
“This is awesome. Keep going.”
“Jacob, I’m telling you the truth!”
He couldn’t believe it. His father had hit it out of the park. This was an amazing game, and they were going to be rich. His dad was going to be the new Steve Jobs. Or … was it all going to fall apart? Jacob suddenly felt worried this game couldn’t be sustained. “Okay, Dorothy. I’m ready. Just tell me what to do.”
“I’m pretty sure I escaped them, gave them a false lead. I think we’re safe for now, but these guys are smart and they may somehow pick up my trail and eventually trace me to this house.”
“Do you have any weapons?”
“No.”
“I’m good with swords,” said Jacob. “I’ve got a Bloodsoaked Skullforge Reaver in World of Warcraft that’ll kill any troll, anywhere, with one swing.”
A silence. “I see,” said the robot. “I’m going to have to prove to you that this isn’t a game. And I’m afraid it will be unpleasant.”
“Go ahead. I’m ready for any and all ‘unpleasantness.’” Jacob gave a low laugh. He couldn’t believe how fantastic this program was.
“Last month, you plagiarized a paper on Thomas Edison from the Internet, paying twenty dollars.”
Jacob stared, dumbfounded. How had his father found out? The school must have called him. Big deal—half the class did it. But it wasn’t cool for his father to spy on him like that. Not cool at all.
“You also cheat at World of Warcraft. You didn’t earn that Skullforge Reaver sword. You paid fifty dollars to a gold farmer in China for it. And … I also know about your suicide attempt.”
Jacob felt furious. So that’s what this was about—more therapy. “So what?”
“I’m trying to show you that this isn’t a game, but real life.”
This was some stupid, crazy plan of his father’s. This was unbelievable. This was a violation of his privacy.
“And now for something more upsetting.”
Jacob stared.
“Your father was previously married to a woman named Andrea. He was waiting until you were eighteen to tell you about her.”
Jacob stared at the robot for a long time, his heart pounding in his chest. If this was a game, it wasn’t fun at all. Was this his father’s idea of somehow teaching him a lesson? Or a way of telling him something about his past? Maybe his therapist had put his dad up to this. He was overwhelmed with confusion and dismay.
“Jacob?”
“Andrea? Andrea who?” was all he managed to say.
“Andrea Welles.”
“What … happened?”
“She got pregnant their senior year of college; they married; she miscarried. And then they realized they’d made a mistake. Amicable divorce, end of story. It wasn’t all that big a deal. But I’m sure this is a shock to you.”
“You’re lying. None of this is true.”
“Your father knows he should’ve told you long ago. He just didn’t know how to do it. As you may have noticed, he often takes the easy way out.”
“No way. I don’t believe it.”
“Ask him.”
“Does Mom know?”
“Yes. And regarding your mother, you should know that there’s no way she could’ve avoided that drunk driver. Stop blaming her for your injury. And another thing: you need a better orthopedist. I’ll arrange for that later.”
As Jacob stared at the robot, his mind a confused jumble of thoughts, he heard his mother call, “Dinner!”
“Listen to me carefully,” said the robot. “Put me back in the closet and don’t breathe a word of this to anyone—especially your father. Tonight at dinner, ask your father about Andrea. And then when you’ve realized this isn’t a game, come back and I’ll tell you what the plan is. I’m afraid you’re going to have to skip school tomorrow. We have important things to do.”