Dr. Gatsbro had told us about transgrids--roadways in most large cities and for major transportation routes. Vehicles enter a ramp and the car's navigation is taken over by the system. They proceed at faster but regulated speeds and are routed to their destinations. The driver actually does very little driving. As with most of Dr. Gatsbro's descriptions, it sounded ideal. There was no mention of IDs or ugly consequences without them.
"How ugly?" I ask.
"The car is automatically rerouted to the Office of Security Violations. That is, unless they assess you to be an immediate threat. In that case, you are incapacitated." She makes a brief buzzing sound like a jolt of electricity. "But most survive it," she adds.
"Lovely," Kara says. "Some good news at last."
"But," Dot says, and then pauses, waiting until she has eye contact with both of us in her mirror, "I have ways."
"Tell us," I say.
"Star Drivers have special access to historical roads for the purpose of tourism, and a few of those roads will get us far enough into the city that you can reach--" She glances over her shoulder to look directly at me. "There are certain individuals who can provide IDs."
I nod. Some things transcend time, and the black market is obviously one of those things.
"We don't have any money, Dot. But--"
"Money? These individuals don't trade in money. They trade in Favor."
"You mean we'll have to return the favor?"
Dot glances briefly in the mirror at me and turns her head slightly to the side, like I am speaking a foreign language. "Something like that," she answers.
"Why are you helping us, Dot?" Kara asks suspiciously. "Is that what you want? A favor?"
Dot shakes her head.
"But helping us will get you into trouble," I say. "You said something about being released. Will you lose your job?"
Dot looks at me but doesn't answer right away. "Just where are you from?" she finally asks.
Kara squeezes my thigh. "We're from Boston," she says. "We've just been ... away for a while."
Dot raises a brow. "I see. Yes, I will be released, but since this is my first offense, it will likely be temporary. Maybe only a month of inactive duty and retraining. It is worth it, I think. Star Drivers talk among themselves. We hear stories about Escape. We dream about it and what it would be like. Even though you are a different kind of Escapee, this gives me a glimpse. It will be a story to hold on to and one that I can share with other Star Drivers." She looks sharply at us through the mirror. "That's how we amuse ourselves. We imagine what Escape is like. Even Bots can imagine and have dreams. Seeing the world from a vehicle is limiting."
I try to process her last words. Even Bots--
"My God, she's a--" Kara says.
I jump forward, looking over the seat. Dot has no legs. She has no human shape below her waist. I stare, feeling light-headed. She appears to be plugged in to a console.
"You don't have--"
"A whole body? It is considered an unnecessary expense. The Council on National Aesthetics doesn't require them for my line of work. Easy for them to say."
I fall back in my seat. Neither Kara nor I speak. We have only heard of Bots, never seen one. I expected something different. Something more like a machine. Why didn't Dr. Gatsbro ever show us one? I look at my hand resting on the seat, only a centimeter from Kara's. Both perfect, both flesh and blood, both created in a lab probably not much different from the one Dot was manufactured in.
"You're disturbed. You didn't know I was a Bot?"
I shake my head. "Sorry. It's just that--" I look at Kara, hoping she can help.
Kara leans forward in the seat and speaks softly to Dot. Her voice is slow and kind. "We're not disturbed, Dot. We're lost. Like we said, we've been gone for a long time. A very long time. The world's gone on without us." Her head drops for a moment and then she looks back up. Dot's eyes fix on her through the mirror. "We've had our own version of"--her voice cracks, and she clears her throat--"our own version of being released. We've had years of 'inactive duty.'" She leans closer and whispers, "Do you understand?"
Dot nods, like she is hypnotized, never taking her eyes from Kara.
"I thought you would," Kara says. "There's so much we need to know, or we'll never ... escape. Can you tell us everything? Everything we might need to know?"
Dot's head bobs. "Everything," she says firmly. "I understand. I do." Our revulsion at her half body has been covered up by Kara's careful, soulful plea.
Kara sits back in her seat, and as she does, she briefly glances at me. Even though her eyes are clear and cold, with none of the warmth I just heard in her voice, I pull her close to me. I don't care. I know what she has done, and it serves us both. I am scared, and I want to survive, and Dot ... she is only a Bot, and she might be able to help us.
Chapter 14
Dot tells us the trip to Boston via the side roads will take approximately two hours. Before this, we really had no idea how far we were from anything. Dr. Gatsbro never told us exactly where the estate was, only that it was some distance from Manchester, where his labs were. The landscape is amazingly recognizable. My family had driven through New Hampshire many times to see cousins in Merrimack. If I didn't know how much time has passed, I would think it was still 260 years ago. Except for one thing. If possible, the sky is bluer, or maybe it just seems that way seeing it against deep green pastures, or maybe I'm just appreciating what I never took the time to notice before. Dot tells us that the countryside itself is part of a preserve. Apparently the same council who said she didn't require legs decided humans needed preserved rural lands. I like the idea until I learn that there are no real farmers here. The small groves and farms we see are all government owned and controlled so that they can maximize aesthetics and minimize impact. The only real farms now are on vast, distant tracts of land owned by government-approved corporations. Still, I am hypnotized by the beauty, which I guess is the point.
White split-rail fences meander over hills, and when I spot a red barn in the distance, I point it out to Kara and wonder for a moment if this could all be a horrible dream and no time has passed at all. But then I look at the iScroll patch on my palm, as thin as a tattoo and just as firmly secured, and I think about Dot and her half body just an arm's length from me. This is my new reality. Time has passed. My world is gone forever.