The next morning, I picked up my lunch and my schoolbooks, kissed Mama good-bye,
and walked out. I stood on our porch for a long time, staring at the horsebarn.
I remembered the brave explorers in Verne's books. I looked over my shoulder, at
the closed door of our house, then walked slowly to the horsebarn. I swung the
door open, then walked to the back. The triple-bolts had rusted somewhat and
took real shoving to slide back. One of them was stubborn, so I picked up the
rake and pried it back with the handle, thinking of how ingenious that was.
I gave the door my shoulder and shoved, and it swung back, complaining on its
hinges. On the other side was the still-familiar dark of our 1975 apartment. I
stepped into it, and closed the door behind me.
"Lights," I said, and they came on.
The old place was just like the day we left it. It wasn't even dusty, and as I
heard the familiar trundle of the robutler, I knew why. My Pa's easy chair sat
in the parlour, with a print-out of the day's _Salt Lake City Bugler_ folded on
the side-table. I walked to one wall and laid my palm against it, the familiar
cool glassy stuff it was made of. "Window," I said, and wiped a line across the
wall. Wherever my hand wiped went transparent. It was a sunny day in 1975 --
1980, by then, but it would be 75 in my mind forever. Under the dome, Greater
Salt Lake was warm and tranquil. I saw boys my age scooting around in jet-packs,
dodging hover-traffic.
Pa liked to open a big, square window when he came home, and sit in his easy
chair and smoke a stinky cigar and read the paper and cluck over it -- "Well,
well, well," he'd say, and "How _about_ that?" Sometimes, he'd have a tumbler of
whiskey. He'd given me some, once, and the stuff had burned like turpentine and
I swore I wouldn't try it again for a long, long time.
I sat in Pa's easy chair and snapped up the newspaper, the way he used to.
"Panorama," I said, and Pa's square window opened before me. "Whiskey," I said,
and "Cigar," because I was never one for half-measures. The robutler trundled
over to me with a tumbler and a White Owl in its hover-field. I plucked them
out. Cautiously, I put the cigar between my lips. The robutler extruded a long,
snaky arm with a flame, and lit it. I took a deep puff, and coughed
convulsively. Unthinking, I took a gulp of whiskey. I felt like my lungs had
turned inside-out.
I finished both the whiskey and the cigar before I got up, taking cautious puffs
and tiny sips, forcing myself.
My head swam, and nausea nearly drowned me. I staggered into the WC, and hung my
head in the oubliette for an eternity, but nothing was coming up. I moved into
my old bedroom and splayed out on my bed, watching the ceiling spin. "Lights," I
managed to croak, and the room went dark.
#
When I woke in the morning, the walls were at half-opacity, the normal 0700
schedule, and I dragged myself out of bed.
The robutler had extruded the table and set out my breakfast, ham and eggs and a
big bulb of milk. One look at it sent me over the edge, and I left a trail of
sick all the way to the WC.
When I was done, I was as wrung-out as a washcloth. My head pounded. The
robutler was quietly cleaning up my mess. I started to order it to clear away
breakfast, but discovered that I was miraculously hungry. I ate everything on
the table and seconds, besides, and had the robutler juice my temples and clear
away my headache. I dialed the walls to full transparency, and watched the
traffic go by.
The robutler maneuvered itself into my field of vision and flashed a clock on
its chest-plate: 0800 0800 0800. It was my old school-alarm. It snapped me back
to reality. My Mama was going to whip me raw! She must've been worried sick.
I stood up and ran for the door. It was closed. I punched my code into its
panel, and waited. Nothing happened. I calmed myself and punched it again. Still
nothing. After trying it a hundred times, I convinced myself that it had been
changed.
I summoned the robutler and asked it for the code. Its chest-panel lit up: BAD
PROGRAM.
That's when I started to really worry. I was near to tears when I remembered the
emergency override. I punched it in.
Nothing happened.