Escape Velocity

Chapter One

The thin skin on Gramp's eyelids, traced with fine blue veins, seemed so fragile. I murmured my plea to his sleeping form beneath the blankets. "Gramp, promise me you'll stay forever. You're the only one who gets me." I looked out the window and whispered to the clouds scuttling across the afternoon sky. "The only one."

Gramp shifted under the blanket and blinked several times as if he was struggling to focus. His lips were dry and caked with saliva in the corners. His words were crackly. "Smuggle up any Circus Peanuts for me?"

I pulled a bag out of my backpack and tore it open. I placed a piece of the slightly squashed, vaguely peanut-shaped, god-awful orange candy on a tissue on his nightstand.

Gramp smiled, sat up, and guided FetchBot to a pill bottle he'd dropped. On the way, with the bottle clamped in its hand, the bot bumped the nightstand, and sensors corrected its direction. Gramp said, "Let's take Big Bird outside for a spin where there's more room. It needs regression testing."

Because of last month's public humiliation at the science fair when FetchBot froze mid-demonstration and would not reboot, no way testing of any kind appealed to me. For unknown reasons, the organizers had included it in their promotional video. That was special.

I said, "Big Bird won't work in the yard."

Gramp coughed slightly as he swallowed his morning pills. "Let's do a test run anyhow. To see what happens."

Carrying the bot, I followed him down the stairs and into the yard. Twenty-five pounds, yellow, and about twelve inches square with two platforms, the bot had an extendable arm that made it resemble a long-necked, awkward bird. I never called my robot Big Bird except around Gramp. I knew he meant it with affection, but it seemed childish when I said it.

The lower tier on a flexible aluminum chassis held the motor, the sensors, and the brains. On the second tier, a smaller upper deck was for the plastic arm and video camera attachment. There were four omni-directional wheels to give it more mobility. With all the parts and wires visible, it wasn't elegant. Just a few tweaks were necessary, that's all.

"Okay, let her rip!" Gramp raised his cane and dropped it like he was starting a car race.

Big Bird crawled across the dirt toward dense grass. The front wheels rose up over the tall blades and came to a complete stop. I pressed the reverse button on my tablet and then forward again. The wheels spun uselessly. "I don't know why I even bothered."

Patting me on the back, Gramp said, "Never be afraid to try. You can learn from every test run."

"Yeah, I learned I was right. It doesn't work outside."

Gramp's narrowed eyes shot a warning at me. "There's no pouting in engineering. Come on, what can be changed for a better outcome?"

"Different wheels? Larger wheels will mean higher clearance. It won't catch on stuff."

"Now you're thinking. The wheels are a good place to start. Sketch out some of your ideas. We can talk about them after lunch. Meanwhile, send Big Bird down to the mailbox." Gramp waved at the mailman. "Hey, Dave! Hold up. We're trying out our new mail retrieval device."

Strange. Dave wasn't the mailman's name. It was Justin. Dave had retired a few years ago after being their mailman for as long as I could remember.

"Gramp, that's Justin, the new mailman."

"What are you talking about? Dave's always been our mailman. I've known him for years."

Justin waved to us.

Big Bird's slow roll began. After a minute, Justin's smile shifted into an expression of impatience. When the bot finally reached him, I began to extend the arm, but Justin dropped the mail in the small basket wired to the back and jogged to his truck.