I was fucked if I went to court on my charges. There was no throwing the dice, no begging for the mercy of the judge, or no hoping for the best. Raina would make good on her threat and pull all the strings at her malicious command. If I went to jail, I lost my child. Period. End of story. No happy ending for me.
At this moment I'm staring at the ceiling, wide-awake, while my robot laid on one side, and my husband the other. And this was yet another problem in my life. What was I going to do with them?
Not that I didn't enjoy my mΓ©nage with the boys last night. Oh no, I did. But I couldn't see living that way permanently, especially since Roger would get bored eventually and start acting out again. Gawd, he was a child, wasn't he?
But I had to see to him, just as I always did. I don't know why I did that, except he brought out my protective instincts. Roger always did since the first time I saw him in the classroom getting chewed verbally by that nasty torts professor.
Now someone shot him? What was that about? Maybe I didn't feel so warm and fuzzy towards my husband. But he was my husband. No one fucks with him but me.
But I had other people screwing with me too.
Jason and Cicily. What the hell? Andrew considered them his family, and who was I to keep a robot from his family?
His owner.
That bothered me too. The whole owner of a sentient being thing freaked me out. So what if he wasn't flesh and blood? He loved like a human. Isn't that what was important?
I shivered despite the warmth under the blankets and the two bodies next to me.
Wait? Warmth of two bodies?
Andrew didn't project body warmth. Now he was?
"Andrew?" I said.
He groaned but otherwise didn't move.
"Andrew!"
Roger stirred. "What Evaline?"
"Something's wrong with Andrew."
I shook Andrew.
"Andrew! Wake up!" Right then, in my fright it didn't occur to me how stupid those words were. Andrew didn't sleep.
Roger got out of bed. He turned on the light, and we both saw something was seriously wrong. Andrew's biologic skin was a pasty white, and yes, it was hot to the touch.
"Shit," said Roger. "What should we do?"
"I don't know. What does one do with a sick robot?"
"I think we should get him into a cold shower," said Roger. "Try to cool him down."
"Okay," I said. Could anything else possibly go wrong?
"Come on, Andrew. Let's get you in the shower," said Roger.
Andrew groaned as we both pulled him to sit. His head lolled to the side.
"We need help, Roger. This is bad."
"What do you suggest," said Roger as he attempted to wedge his good shoulder under Andrew.
"You shouldn't do that. You'll rip your stitches."
"Wait. The security guards," said Roger. "They are hefty enough for this job."
I called in the security guards who gave me a doubtful look.
"Look, I clear it with your boss. You'll both get a bonus. Help me get him in the shower."
They hauled him into the shower and let him sink to the floor as I turned on the water.
"Anything else, ma'am," said one of the guards.
"No. Thank you."
They went back to the front door, as I sat on the commode, watching Andrew. I felt his skin, and it was cooler, but he didn't seem any better.
Roger put his head in the bathroom. "I've called Betty. She was going to the detention facility anyway to speak to Cicily. Maybe Cicily knows what is going on."
I pressed my lips together. "When is she going?"
"Because I asked her, now."
"Thank you, Roger."
I took Andrews hand and sank down on the floor. If anything happened to him, I don't think I could bear it. Was that tears sliding down my cheeks? Fuck me.
#
A few hours later, my phone rang. Roger answered it. I heard him give the clearance to allow someone up. Before long Jason Wells stood in the bathroom.
"I was at the jail visiting mom when Betty came in."
"He was hot," I said apologetically. "We thought this would cool him down."
"Actually, that's not bad thinking."
Jason squatted next to me.
"Hey, Andrew, buddy," he said. "How are you feeling?"
Andrew's eyelids fluttered.
"Jason? Where am I, Jason? Why is everything so wet?" Andrew's voice was a ghostly shell of his usual self.
"Your biologic skin is infected."
Andrew shivered.
"I'm cold."
"I know, buddy. But we have to keep your neural pathways chilled. Evaline was very smart to get you in the shower."
"Evaline?" he said. "Who's Evaline?"
My heart nearly stopped.
Jason looked at me. "I've seen this before in our early experiments with biologic skin. Sometimes the heat fries some of the neural pathways."
"I'm cold," Andrew said again. "Where's Cicily? Cicily can fix me."
Now tears streamed down my face. Again.
"Mom's not available, Andrew. But I'm here, and I'll do all I can for you."
"I want Cicily," Andrew said, as petulant as a child.
"Okay, buddy. Let's get you out of here."
I called back the security guards and we hauled him out of the shower. While he stood, I stripped him of his clothes, and dried him down. His skin looked a little greenish in places.
"Jason," I said, pointing out the green patches.
"Yeah. Not good. Let's get him on the bed."
We did that, and I sent the security guards back to their post after Jason instructed them to wash their hands.
"Do you think he's contagious?"
"No. But it doesn't hurt to take precautions."
Andrew stared at both of us, but there was a strange look in his eyes.
"Cicily?" he said. "Something is wrong."
I took his hand. "I know, Andrew. We're going to fix you."
"I know you would. I trust you, Cicily."
Oh, fuck.
"Jason! What do we do?"