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!
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