Thumbies Don't Sleep

 

There was a lot to learn about living with a biological robot with four elbows.  The first night OZ spent with us was a nightmare.  He was busy all night mentally cataloging repairs that needed to be made, and jobs that needed to be finished.  I say mentally because he didn’t write anything down.  He went up and down the stairs.  Looked into the attic.  He went in and out of the doors. He talked to himself in a weird quasi-English patter.  Maybe that was his way of recording data.  I simply don't know.

My brother Doug had been swept up in a moment of mercy for the creepy thing, and now we had to make it work.  I would have let him bleed out and buried him with the other one.  I think I would.  Oh, who knows?

Of course, it was really Jen’s doing.  She is all pregnant and must nurture everything.  She is the one who went looking for him and she is the one who prayed him healed.  Great.

Lou doesn’t like him either.  She stays way away from him, out in her hen house or garden or upstairs. Remember he and that other one tried to drag her out of here.  Bubby straightened that right out, right quick.

Thumbies, it turns out, kind of operate like radios.  They are tuned into a channel that directs their behavior.  It’s probably a mistake to refer to OZ as him.  He really doesn’t have gender, but he looks most like a guy.  Why would he?  They cook those guys up in test tubes.  Starting out with tiny ones and gradually getting larger until it can hold a full-term infant.

They are planted in their first tube as a kind of seed or preserved fertilized egg.  Their designers clone these eggs, not really eggs in the normal sense, and then activate them with some sort of genetic solution.  It’s pretty messy.  Then when these eggs are activated, they can be dried and still be “alive”.

OZ himself told them within my hearing all about it.  He was not one bit shy about his genesis.  Why should he be?  He lacks the most basic of human sensibilities.

Thumbies are designed to be exceedingly subservient, but only to their director, or as OZ says quaintly, their master.  Being without a master doesn’t kill them, but they hare off in strange directions, such as deciding to kidnap and sell Lou.

The other thing they are designed to do is make things work.  Fix stuff. They really want to fix stuff!

They are hard to kill, but it can be done.  They repair themselves quickly if there is enough left to repair in the right configuration. Ahem.

OZ seems physical enough, but he fades in and out of matter in a spooky way.  Also, he can manipulate matter like it’s clay and then let it revert to its original state.  I think he is part demon/wild spirit of some kind.  Maybe I think that because he makes my hair stand on end if I look at him too long. His eyes are not as big as the old image of an alien’s are.  Maybe about half that big, but they are all black.

Who was their designer?  The Spookies did the manufacturing, but the dark one was their designer. 

As Jen says, I am a bottom line kinda guy.

 

Doug, being his new “master”, had to sit him down and have a little talk about nighttime with him.

*O*

Doug and Oz were out in the backyard.  Doug was thinking.  OZ was repairing those rickety old lawn chairs; they looked brand new when he was done with them.

Doug said, “OZ, sit down will you, we need to talk about something.”

OZ sits on one of the perfectly repaired lawn chairs and says, “Yes!” and puts his palms together. He waits. There is no expression in his big black eyes.  The puffiness of yesterday is gone, and his eyes glitter.

“Don’t you sleep OZ” Doug asked a bit plaintively.

“No, Doug. I don’t sleep.  My body is in constant repair mode.  I don’t need to stop to repair. I can work all day and all night.  I take short breaks to absorb some matter from time to time.”

“Look, OZ, if you are going to stay here, we have to have some rules,” said Doug.

“I will obey, Doug,” said OZ.

“Can you just sit quietly on a chair when we have all gone to bed, so you don’t wake us up like you did last night with all your moving around?”

“Sitting.  For hours. I will obey. But it is hard to understand,” said OZ.

Doug tells him, “It’s the noise. We must sleep to repair ourselves. You should know we are not made like you.  So, you must be quiet all night.  You may think of yourself as a second guard over us. That will give you something to do.  Guard the place. Obey the dog if he tells you to do something during the night!”

“OZ, I think a kitchen chair would be best. Sit out there.”

“I will obey Doug,” said OZ with his palms together, sitting on a lawn chair in the little back yard with its patchy lawn, looking like nothing natural on the face of the earth.

 

You remember that there is no way to warn someone that you are coming for a visit?  Well, just about then, as the heart to heart between Doug and OZ was ending, Rupert D. Jones comes striding around the house and up to Doug. He is dressed in his signature black shorts, black t-shirt, black boots, knee socks, and beanie.  All black.  He looks a bit sweaty. His beard is getting grayer.  Badger style.

“Hey Doug, are you guys home, I ask irrelevantly. Hey, what the heck have you got here….” said Roops.

“You remember those two who came to the house after it was broken into by P-Sec and they fixed the broken lock? I don’t know if this one is one of those two, but he is the same make and model.  We call them Thumbies because when they stand at rest their thumbs stick out to the side, due to the extra joint in their arms,” said Doug. “Yeah, we’re all home.”

"It was Thumbies who kidnapped me and Jen and Elvin in that bus thing and took us to the Dome, for me to swear allegiance to the dark one there.  Well, as you know, they lost their master there and have been kind of ronin Thumbies since then.  This one and one other came to see us yesterday, with some dumb plan to kidnap Lou and sell her. By the way, I’d like to find out who wanted to buy and tried to put in an order. I will deal with him, one way or another."

“Hey, OZ, show Roops your crazy arm joints,” said Doug.

Roops was glad to take a seat and watch OZ demonstrate his arms.

Bubby came to sit by him and made smart mouthed remarks under his breath to OZ’s detriment. He was still feeling like a tough guy from yesterday.

 

“So, if these guys are hostiles, why is this one sitting here like a good boy in your backyard Doug,” said Roops.

Doug told Roops everything that had happened since yesterday, ending up with a Thumbie having Doug as its new master.

 

“Wow” said Roops, when he saw what OZ could do, looking at the lawn chair as an example.  “What could we do with an army of these Thumbies all working for us?

“Say, Doug, think you could handle an army of these jokers? “asked Roops.

 

So, OZ, Bubby, Roops-the grand wazoo, and Doug sat in the backyard as the afternoon faded a bit.  Inside the kitchen they could see Jen and Lou starting to make some dinner for everybody. Elvin was hanging around in the kitchen too because that’s where Lou was.  Roger was nowhere in sight.

Concepts, plans and dreams began to move, coalesce and form almost of their own volition.  Strange Magic!

Almost like it was meant to be!

All of it: In the tenth year of the pandemonium.docx