TARBOY

CHAPTER 2



    Grampa Mackey was sitting in a padded rocking chair that he had from his old home, watching TV with Billy. The channel was set on a cartoon that - in all honesty - was pretty ridiculous, but it kept his grandson settled near his bedtime.

    It was a peaceful evening with clear night skies. Well, as clear as a polluted city's sky could get. At least the few brighter stars were showing. As much as Mackey was thankful that smog didn't have any detrimental effects on robots, he wishes to see the unique blue and dozens of little sparkling lights that made up the heavens in his youth to appear again. He turned his attention from the nearby window to a jar full of black, viscous fluid he brought with him. He remembered when-

    Once again yanked out of his own little world, the phone was beeping from the kitchen. Mackey grabbed the arm of the chair and his cane, using both as support, struggling a bit to get up. "I'll get it!" Billy exclaimed, springing to his feet and half-running to pick up the phone from its stand. Mackey shrugged and sat back down in the chair, letting Billy take the call. However, as the conversation continued, he couldn't help but notice the child's change in tone.

    "Hello? Hi mom!…I'm doing great, me and grampa are watching TV…What? Why?…." It became unusually quiet, Mackey only being able to hear Lilith's voice, but not what she was saying. He guessed that she and her husband both had to work overtime. The conversation went on. "Well, will you be here in time to read to me before bed?…Oh, okay…Yeah, I understand…Love you too mom…" Billy sighed as he hung up, and so did Mackey. This is the reason he didn't want to be supported by his daughter, he was becoming a burden. The couple had to work extra hard to keep his useless rustbucket around, and they were already paying everything else you might expect in a normal household. This has been going on for weeks, maybe a couple of months, the hours always getting longer, leaving less time for family. Mackey stood up again as Billy returned, looking glum."Well, what's the verdict?" Mackey asked, breaking the depressing silence.

    "Mom and Dad have to work extra late again…and she says it's bedtime." Billy answered. Even though he was upset about how his family couldn't spend as much time together, he was saddened most by the fact that now they were working so much that storytime had to be taken out of the schedule, the last thing that his parents could still make time for. This had gone on for a while now.

    Mackey couldn't stand to see the child upset, especially knowing that at least in part he was the cause. "How about another story then?" It wasn't much, but at least it was something. He had been telling stories to Billy whenever his parents had extra hours.

    Billy's eyes lit up a bit and his smile returned. "Yeah, sounds great!"

"Well, get ready for bed, and pick something out to read."

 

    After the kid was all settled in, Mackey walked in Billy's bedroom with his cane and sat on a small stool next to the bed. It was a simple room, with a few toys laying around, some stuff for Billy to draw with, and a couple of lamps. One near the bed was lit.

    "So, what are we reading tonight?" Mackey asked. Almost before he could finish the question he was handed a book; 'ADVENTURE BOT AND THE MAGIC CRYSTAL'. The old machine mentally groaned, it was always the same book. It was Billy's favorite after all, but Mackey thinks that if he read this one more time he'd be the one falling asleep. With a sigh the old machine wondered if they could skip storytime for a night, but looking up at the kid's hopeful face made his circuits ache. However, thinking about reading the same thing over and over again had a similar - if less pleasant - effect. 

    Then the old man had an idea, smiling and standing up with his cane as support. Billy noticed a gleam in his grandfather's one eye.

 

 

"Let me tell you about a real hero my boy. His name is TarBoy, nothing like you've ever seen before. Once there were these rich fatcats Grunt, Blunt, and C-uh, I forgot the last one. You see, they ruled the world with their greed, their slaves worked day and night in the mines."

"Doing what?"

"Working! They clinked and they clanked, and they pushed and they pulled! Their limbs kept rusting and their joints were sore! They clinked and they clanked, and they pushed and they pulled, and they worked and they worked!"

"Gosh."

"Until one day..."

 

 

    A bot wearing what appeared to be an average suit and tie walked down a long hallway, carrying a black rectangular briefcase. On his head was black, tidy artificial hair. Between his teeth was a lit cigarette. The sterotypical businessman type. Cigarettes were a sort of expensive status symbol, since tobacco plants became rare without humans to grow them. The path had a linoleum floor so smooth and clean you could see another's reflection from quite a distance.

    Following along was a ladybot in a professional-looking khaki tux dress. She had magnetic diamond earrings attached to the sides of her head, just beneath her plastic antennae, which pointed up and behind from her. Her head was also covered in long artificial hair, dark brown and in a tight bun. She had a pair of glasses, entirely for appearances. They were colleagues, both invited for a special meeting. The two entered the elevator, with fake oak walls and a navy blue floor. As the smoker adjusted his tie and pressed the button that would take them to the top floor, the ladybot spoke up. "So, did you hear anything about this meeting, Yates?" The other shrugged, looking at his watch. "Just that I'd earn more cash, that's usually enough to convince me."

    As they went up, the elevator made several stops, more and more of the higher-ups like the first two bots coming aboard. They all seemed to be here for the same reason. When the ladybot leaned over to Yates and muttered a question as to why they were all here, his only response was "Grunt, Blunt, and that other guy must be pretty excited about this..."

 

    Yates and the other robots streamed out of the slightly crowded elevator once it reached the second-to-highest floor, heading toward a large meeting room with glass walls and windows. The room had a large oval table in it's center. Transparent doors slid open as the group approached, everyone soon taking seats. They were a few minutes early, so most of the bots made idle conversation to pass the time. Yates and a few others just made some calls, talking to whoever about whatever. As he tossed his burnt-out cigarette and lit another, the lights in the room dimmed to nothing and the glass that made up the sides of the room became opaque. An almost eerie silence fell. Everyone scooted a bit closer to the center table.

    After a short moment the glass doors slid open, the bright lights outside the room revealing three silhouettes. Nobody could believe who it was, some staring in subtle awe, and even a hint of fear. If contacted, these guys would contact you indirectly, or (rarely) video chat in meetings if something was important. Now here they are, in the metal. The first to come in was Blunt himself, a short and stocky robot. Although he was eye level with everyone who was sitting, they still felt like being stared down. Second was Grunt, a robot not much taller than Yates, but certainly a lot bigger. With broad shoulders, thick arms, and huge hands clenched into fists, you wouldn't want to mess with him. Completing the infamous trio was a tall and unusually thin bot, nicknamed 'Mr. C' , slender hands clasped behind his back as he loomed over those summoned for the meeting.

    On the back wall was a projected image, and the three fatcats took their seats facing away from the only source of light in the room. Blunt spoke first, starting introduction. 

    "We're very glad you're all here today. In case you didn't know, production by the Servantry has been exponentially declining over the past seven years."

    The thin bot started talking as well, though nobody would have heard him if it weren't for the quietness of the room. "The demand-supply ratio has been rather unstable in our markets as of late."

    "And there have been an increasing number in uprisings since January." Grunt added. "Soon our labor forces will become obsolete, and production will cease."

Blunt reached for a button on the keyboard. "Which is why we've been developing this…"