The Mall (18 page)

Briefly, the light skipped over the disc-like eyes of a short Bot about the same height as Owen, sending out a momentarily flash.
 
Lara took a step toward it and heard the servo-motors within buzz weakly.
 
The perfectly round eyes swiveled around toward her, reflecting the light back at her.

Lara gasped and stumbled backwards a step into Cora.

Attracted by the movement, she told herself.
 
It’s as dead as every other piece of electronic equipment in here.

She spun on her heel and took Cora’s hand.
 
“C’mon, he’s not here.”

Lara swung out of the store entrance and looked first one way, then the other, listening for sounds of security personnel, who in the absence of any public announcement system or bullhorn had all taken to using the old fashioned method of Vox Humana.
 
It was especially convenient for anyone trying to avoid them.

Cora gave her flashlight another series of cranks and switched on the static.
 
“Mommy, I can’t get any stations.
 
Am I doing something wrong?” the five year-old asked.

Unwilling to admit to even herself what that might mean, Lara exchanged the radio/flashlight for the one she’d been using.
 
“Something’s probably wrong with that one.
 
Here, can you do Mommy a big favor and crank this one up for me?
 
The light’s starting to dim.”

The child took the light and diligently began to crank it, wearing an intense expression.

Lara switched the setting back to the light bulb icon on the side.
 
The beam was strong and with good reason.
 
Cora had been winding the crank almost constantly since they’d left the Radio Shack.
 
Coraline Myers was a pleaser.
 
Give her an assignment and she’d work it as long as the praise kept rolling in.

To Lara’s surprise, several lights remained in the hallway which led to the Repair Shop.

“We’re going to see the Wizard,” she responded, leading Cora up the hallway to a familiar door marked “Authorized Personnel Only.”
 
Ignoring the red button marked “Service,” she noticed that the door had been cocked open with a wooden wedge.
 
Lara pushed it open and stepped through.
 
“Hello,” she called aloud.

No voice answered.
 
No light came through the round port-holed doors of the Bot operating room.

“Stay right here in the light where I can see you,” Lara told Cora, sliding the wedge further down the edge of the open door, so that more of the light from the hallway spilled through into the foyer.

“No, Mommy,” Cora said with alarm.
 
“Don’t leave me.”

Lara looked back at Cora with concern.
 
“Cora, I won’t leave you.”

“Owen left,” the five-year-old stated bluntly.

“I’ll never leave you,” Lara snapped, planting a kiss in the center of her head.
 
She took Cora by the hand and pushed open one of the swinging doors.

Peering inside, she saw him sitting at his cluttered desk, head bowed, a single votive candle lit beside a thick book. Her first impression was that the mechanic—for she had no better name for him—was asleep.

“Hello,” she said, in a barely audible rasp.

For a moment, the mechanic remained still, then suddenly his head gave a subtle jerk and he turned smoothly around toward Lara, eyes blinking sleepily at her.

Oh, this is pointless, Lara suddenly thought.
 
The whole Mall is falling down around our ears and this guy is reading by candlelight.
 
This guy was a dead end, not worth exploring.

Lara spun around and had already started out into the hallway before she even lifted her eyes.
 
The big silver robot had already skipped back a step to avoid colliding with her.
 
“Oh!” she gasped.
 
“I’m sorry.”

“My apologies, ma’am,” the familiar silver robot said in its deep melodious voice.
 
“I did not mean to startle you.”

“Hello… Reggie, is it?”

“Yes, thank you for remembering, ma’am,” it replied, its head turning to Cora, blue eyes flashing brightly.
 
“Hello, little ma’am.”

“Hello, Reggie,” Cora whispered, glancing apologetically at her mother.
 
“Can you help me find my brother Owen?”

The silver robot’s eyes flickered.
 
“Accessing historical data files.
 
Owen Eugene Myers entered the Mall of the Nation today at 545 pm, Central Standard Time, accompanied by Lara Lynn Myers and Coraline Justine Myers.
 
His face was scanned in the system and was subsequently tracked a total of twenty-five additional times in the course of seven hours.
 
Reported lost by his mother Lara Myers at exactly 242
am
.
 
Last known location was…”
 
The blue eyes flickered.
 
“Last known location was… processing.”
 
The blue eyes continued to flicker.
 
“Processing.”

Lara instinctually checked the watch on her wrist, the hands frozen at around ten minutes before three.

“I am sorry for the inconvenience, but the network officially failed at 248
am
.
 
As a result, there is no record of the last known location of Owen Eugene Myers.”

“What’s the current time?”

Reggie’s eyes flashed.
 
“Internal clock reports 327
am
.”

“Could you please check to see if my child left the Mall with the others who were evacuated?”
 
Lara moved closer to the mechanized man, unable to fight the biological urge to ingratiate
herself
with another who could provide aid to her, though she was aware in the background of her mind that her proximity could in no way influence the machine.
 
The Bot would either help her or not.
 
Though she knew it had been programmed to help a human being if asked, she feared that a higher priority might restrict it.

“I am sorry, but all communication with the network has been severed, ma’am.”

“It’s Lara,” she said absently, glancing back to the hallway.
 
“Now what?” she found herself murmuring nervously and when she turned her head back to the Bot, a figure was standing at the double doors behind it.

The mechanic just stared at her, the light of his glasses reflecting the dim light from the hallway.
 
“Hello again,” he muttered.
 
“Is there a problem?”

Disbelievingly, Lara stared blankly at the figure standing in the shadows,
then
chortled at him.
 
“Wrong?
 
No everything’s peachy.
 
Oh, you didn’t happen to notice that all the lights are out in the
Mall,
did you?”
 
Lara craned her neck and realized that now there was
more light
coming from the lab--dim light, but light nonetheless.
 
“How is it that you have light when the rest of the building is as dead as Judgment Day?”

His eyes widened and he stared at Lara as if for the first time.
 
“Judgment Day.
Nothing quite
so
dramatic as that,” he murmured.
 
“I’ve hardened certain systems in the lab in anticipation of this scenario.
 
Are you familiar with the concept of a Faraday Cage?”

“What scenario?”
 
Unconsciously, Lara tugged Cora closer to her.
 
“Do you know what’s going on here?”

“Either a catastrophic solar flare or some man-made event, possibly an attack on the United States by a rogue nation.
Both would produce the resulting Electromagnetic Pulse.”

“Uh huh,” Lara replied, trying desperately to contain her slowly building frustration.
 
“Break it down, Doc Brown. When will the lights come back on?”

“Oh, they won’t.
 
All the power in the building is out,” he replied with a disinterested certainty.
 
He made no move to come closer, but chose to continue speaking half inside/half outside the swinging doors, like a commitment-phobic turtle.

With that image in her head, Lara had to suppress a giggle, bringing a hand to her mouth.
 
What was it about this infernal place that “gave her the bubbles”—as her Midwestern-bred mother had been fond of saying?

The face in the doorway studied her with interest.
 
“Protocol is to evacuate everyone in the facility.
 
Why are you still here?”

Ignoring the question, Lara asked, “So you’re saying that you think the Soviets just knocked out the power in this Mall?”

“No, the Russians would never attempt an assault of this type.
 
It simply wouldn’t be a smart tactical move…”
 
The other lowered his head and finally decided on a direction, withdrawing his head back into the lab, his voice fading to a murmur as the door closed behind him.
 
A moment later, he reappeared and said in a low tone of voice, “Please come in.”

Lara gathered Cora up and guided her through the swinging doors.

When Lara stepped into the lab, the mechanic was clearing off a bench covered with components next to his desk, where Lara could now see that a single lamp was lit.
  
“Please,” he said, motioning them to the seat.
 
“I apologize.
 
I don’t get many guests down here.”
 
He stood and watched as Lara led Cora over to the bench and seated her.
 
“Customer service upstairs usually handles the interaction with clients and
I
…”
 
His attention was drawn to a Bot torso lying on a table, its left arm dangling.
 
He stepped over to it and lifted the arm, placing it almost lovingly atop its dented chest piece.
 
“I stay down here.”

Not exactly Mr. Personality, Lara had already surmised, glancing at the book lying open atop the desk.
 
Was that a Bible?

“Look, sir, my son’s disappeared and I…”

Reggie strode confidently through the swinging doors, took inventory of all the individuals in the room,
then
faced the mechanic with a brisk, almost military-like stance.
 
“Sir, with your permission, I would like to power down to conserve power.”

“Please do, Reggie,” the mechanic replied.
 
“Thank you.”

The silver humanoid Bot stepped over to one of the many alcoves in the walls of the lab—some empty, some hosting other Bots less sophisticated than Reggie—and backed into the space, its eyes pulsing bright once, then slightly dimmer a second time, then finally winking out completely.

“Reggie’s going night-night now, Mommy,” Cora whispered, giving a sympathetic yawn, leaning her head against Lara’s arm, but still continuing to crank the radio/flashlight, albeit more slowly.

The mechanic smiled dimly at Cora.
 
“Your daughter has a very healthy attitude toward Bots.
 
I’m used to humans treating them as sophisticated appliances.”
 
He took a step forward and went to one knee before the little girl, but instead of addressing her, he squinted at her as if studying a specimen.
 
His eyes fell on the flashlight in her hands.

Cora finally extended her free hand.
 
“Hi,” she said demurely.

“That is a very smart tool to have in this type of situation.
 
Many standard flashlight batteries would have been rendered inoperable by the EMP.”