Stories

Robots never sacrificed animals-flesh being i

The robots had disappeared, and the engines and electronics acquired souls and flesh. Still, the robot carried on as before, unsure of what else it could do.

Gle

"Please," the robot said. "Don't give me to the police. They will kill me."

"Probably," Gle

The robot's eyes watched him, dull and empty of expression. "You know it is the same thing."

"What choice do I have?" Gle

"No," the robot said. "The signs are clear-I mustn't aid my own demise. Believe me, I think of it every day. I ask the machines and their entrails, was I right to survive another day? And they always say yes."

"What do you want me to do? You can't hold me captive forever. People will notice."

"I can hide here. If you permit."

"They'll look for you. They'll see the tracks you left climbing up the wall."

The robot contemplated its hands, ending in three sharp metal claws that left deep gouges on the outside stonework of the apartment building and Gle

"Good idea," Gle

"They will catch me."

"Probably." Gle

The vacuum cleaner kept close to Gle

"Perhaps, I could find you a spirit."

The robot's multijointed arms folded over the carapace of its chest covered in patches of old mold. "I do not see why I would need one."

"You won't have to kill anything then."

The robot inclined its long head. "I suppose. What will happen then? Will you help me?"

"I have to think about it," Gle

The next morning, Gle

He went to the parking lot, located next to a crystal-clear, frozen pond and surrounded by a willow grove. The willow branches stood naked like wicker. Several of the willows were blackened and dead, and Gle

He picked out a small red Audi-the price tag listed a reasonable sum, right under the warning sign that read "Spirit Is Not Included."

He paid for the car and for the delivery, and then walked through the grove, wondering about how to solve the problem of the robot holed up in his apartment. He could just call the police and have it over with; forgiveness was not easy for him. However, cruelty was even harder.

He wandered away the car lot and grove, passing by several stores that sold spirits. Perhaps he could find one that would suit the robot or the new car. He began browsing the shops. Tree and water spirits seemed too fluffy; rock spirits lacked vitality and spark-or so he thought until he found the spirit of an iron mine long since collapsed. The spirit bubbled in its bottle with subdued fire and brimstone, ancient anger and secret knowledge of gods so old even the Etruscans had no memory of them. It was perfect for both the car and the robot.

Gle

At home, the robot crouched over the vacuum cleaner.

Gle

"Nothing," the robot said, sullen, and rose to its feet. "Just petting."

The vacuum seemed unharmed.

"I'm sorry," Gle

The robot nodded. Its faceted eyes looked even more alien in the daylight. "Have you decided what you want to do?"

"Yes," Gle

The car arrived in the late afternoon, when the shadows started to grow long and blue. A large green truck, its wheels overgrown with emerald fur, carried Gle

Gle

"Sure," Gle

"Where do you want it?" the other mechanic said.

"Here, around the corner. In the alley," Gle

The second mechanic chuckled. "Afraid of the Disemboweler, eh? I read this morning the police had scared him off. Then again, better safe than sorry, right?"

The mechanics left the car in the alley, lifeless, motionless. Gle

The robot went to work, busting open the engine and the drive train, tossing aside the gaskets and the caps, the gauges and the wheel bearings.

"How're the omens?" Gle

The robot stared at the heap of metal on the ground. "Good," it said. "The gods approve of the transformation."

Gle

After most of the engine was gone, the robot set out to the reassembly. First, it folded its long body into the cavity, and Gle

The robot co

These things demanded care. The spirit had to like its new vessel to bond with it properly; otherwise, it would just blow away with the wind. And the old spirit was sure to be persnickety; Gle

Gle

The engine roared to life and thudded, the robot groaned in his metallic voice, and the i

The robot spoke no longer, but it seemed content; Gle

The police never found the Disemboweler, and soon the memory faded, turning into a legend. Gle