David Ring III - Stanley Duncan's Robot

“And you still have Mittens,” said Dan.

Stanley shrugged. “But Boots would still be here if she’d have kept him indoors.”

“I could never shut him away like that. He’s an outdoor cat. That would be imprisoning him.”

“No, you’d be protecting him. I can only imagine what other horrible things that demon-cat has done, let alone what other dangers lurk beyond our doors.”

Glenda pierced Stanley with her eyes. “Outside, Boots may have been exposed to traffic, scary dogs, and whatever it was that killed him, but it was the life he needed to live. And I loved him enough to let go. If I kept him locked inside, I would have been the one killing him.”

“Let me get this straight. You’re going to let Mittens go outside after what happened?”

“If that’s what he wants.”

Stanley was furious. The outside world was dangerous — why couldn’t she see that? “Glenda, that’s horrible.”

“What’s horrible is people not minding their own business.”

“I love Mittens, and I don’t want to see him hurt.”

She shrugged him off.

“I hope you will reconsider.” It was all Stanley could do to excuse himself from the conversation. Inside the condo, he and Dan caught each other up on what had happened. Stanley was too ashamed to say what he had done to protect Dan. He had kept him completely in the dark about the threats.

“There was a strange error when I got scanned,” said Dan, his hands by his sides. “But besides that, not much happened.”

“S-scanned? No, please tell me you didn’t do that.”

“Okay, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, but, you just said you did.”

“The machine wasn’t working, so whatever it is that you’re worried about — just forget it.”

Stanley wasn’t buying it. There was something off about Dan. As he quickly analyzed his body, he figured out what was tripping his senses and pointed toward Dan’s hand. “And what happened here?”

Dan reddened and stepped backward, sheepishly tucking his arms behind his back. “What?”

“Come on.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not ‘nothing.’ You go out for a few hours, and you’ve already changed how you dress. Imagine what else could happen.”

Dan’s arms relaxed to his side. “So, you like the new look?”

Stanley shook his head.

“So, hey: The supermarket Frank manages is right down the street.”

“Uh, huh.”

Excitement burned in Dan’s eyes. “Super walkable.”

“They probably get a lot of foot traffic.”

Dan grinned. “And we’ve got lovely feet.”

“Which I’m going to park right over there and relax for the rest of the day.” Stanley walked toward the sofa and turned on the TV, which played advertisements for fuse. For a brief moment, he wondered what it would be like to forget everything and fuse out for a while. Soak in that ocean of bliss. He thought back to his bottle of whiskey in the cabinet, which was as far as he was willing to go. Any more than that and he would be skipping out on his punishment. After a day like today, a nightcap would sure take the edge off.

Dan practically leapt up to the cushion next to him. “Aren’t you curious as to what caused the cat to go haywire? We could solve this mystery together — what better way to show the world what you’ve created.”

“Nope. Not interested. It’s none of my business.” Stanley thought about the code on his computer, a few clicks away from pushing it to the server and giving everyone in the world a do-it-yourself assassin.

“What! Glenda’s cat is dead because of what happened.”

“And we’re alive because we keep to ourselves.”

“You’ve done a great job protecting me, Stanley.”

“That’s right. I won’t let anything happen to you.” But the truth was, he had done practically nothing. If Dan hadn’t been there, Stanley and Glenda would have been killed. If there were going to be more attacks, he needed to be able to protect the people he cared about. He went over to his computer and ordered a few components to make a weapon, marking the delivery as “urgent.”

Dan followed him like a puppy. “But you have to admit, it was pretty interesting what Glenda had to say about her cats.”

“Don’t start!”

Dan sighed. “I wish we could do more.”

Stanley could feel his disappointment as he lingered there next to him. When the realness of the moment became too intense, he hastened to the couch and picked up the remote. “There are plenty of nice shows to keep us entertained.”

“But I have watched them all already — watched them all.”

Shaking his head, the words chiseled at Stanley’s mind. A dire need to drown his guilt consumed him. Heading toward the liquor cabinet, he opened the door and rubbed his fingers together. This was a road he didn’t want to go back down, especially not in front of Dan. Instead, Stanley grabbed his trusty fountain pen and sat at the dining-room table to write, letting his thoughts drain out as he repeatedly signed his name, patiently and beautifully crafting each stroke. The truth of it was, he knew, the recent crimes in Marshfield were an anomaly. More people drowned in the ocean or died from eating uncooked pork. All in all, Marshfield, with the exception of a few troublesome areas, was fairly safe. Androids operated most of the stores throughout the town. They manned the fire station without any problems. But the few cases of violence had scared him terribly, especially what had happened with Boots — and that wasn’t even outside.

Stanley’s body trembled as he looked at the stack of games. There was another reason he was being so resistant. In here, things were perfect. They were best friends living a life he could only have dreamt about a year ago. But beyond those brown condo doors loomed the unforgiving world. He didn’t want Dan to see the way they treated him.

He could imagine him and Dan happily walking down the street until Dan noticed people staring at Stanley. Looking at him like he was disgusting. Saying one of those horrible stories about him. His heart sank into his stomach at the very idea of Dan hearing anything bad about him. He couldn’t bear anything happening to their relationship.

Hours drifted by, marked by a litany of signatures. Occasionally, he glanced over at Dan, who remained hunched over on the chair by the window, immobile, like a powered-down android.

Stanley wondered what he was thinking. For all he knew, Dan felt imprisoned and hated him for it. Dan had been a great companion, always doing things for him and never asking for anything. The one time that Dan had asked him for something, he denied his request, snapping at him like some spoiled child.

The drone arrived, and Stanley buzzed it in.

“What’d you get?” asked Dan.

“Oh, you know,” said Stanley. “Just a cane to help me get around.”

“With a massive battery like this? You’re making a weapon. A stun cane.”

“Better to be safe than sorry,” said Stanley, walking over to the cabinet. “Row, row, row your boat,” he said. It slid out of place, revealing a spiral staircase in what used to be a pantry. Downstairs was another whole unit turned into a lab. He’d had plans to build all sorts of creations when he’d bought the place twenty years before. That never happened.

He cut through the center of the thick cane with a laser and inserted the battery. He bore a few holes for a trigger and created a release mechanism for a small metal plate at one end. All that was left was a little programming, which he would do when he was less weary.

Stanley knew he was being selfish. There would be risk, but the chances of being involved in anything serious were virtually zero. Especially, as Dan mentioned, in broad daylight. Had Dan researched it and done the math already? What kind of a person — what kind of a father — am I?