Red Rover, Red Rover

Sent to Mercury to refurbish an older base, Armando and Frank have run into a few unpredicted problems that have only one thing in common. Their robot, Rover. But things are going from bad to worse.

 Armando Valentino, the engineer, and Franklin James Duke, the psychologist, shielded their eyes so that the bright orange glare of the dirt didn’t blind them as badly as it could. Add to that the hot rays of the sun were beating down on the pair with no remorse. Well, it seemed like no remorse, but in all honesty, it was the coolest it had been in nearly months! Armando was glad about that. Frank was still infuriated that he was on Mercury at all.

 Born and raised in Mexico, Armando (who was nearly the age of 56) had gotten used to heat, but when he came to Mercury, he had hoped and prayed (yes, he still prayed!) that God would give him the benefit of having mainly inside duties. He was not so lucky. Most of his mechanical duties were mainly outside, setting up barriers and fixing Oxygen tanks.

 Frank, who was much younger than Armando (at the age of 39) and was not born when the world was still divided into Nations like the United States of America and the Soviet Union, grew up in the Northern Region and was well known for his work in Robotic Psychology.

 The pair had been shipped to Mercury for an Agricultural Mission, to set up a base full to the brim with sweet, refreshing Oxygen. They had been here for nearly two weeks. All they were sent in the way of aid was a droid, RVR-43, or "Rover" as the boys called him. So far, most of their work was pretty much looking around and finding a few of the billions of Mercury rocks that they could use to grind down and put on top of the plastic layer of the base to act as a solar shield. This was very difficult, since the rock had to be big enough to be accepted by the grinder, but not too big that it wouldn’t fit in the bed of the rover.

 Frank Duke was well aware that they'd been searching for nearly thirty minutes and should start heading back towards the base. After all, the surface of Mercury could get up to 800° Fahrenheit! They never stayed out longer than an hour. Finally, Armando Valentino spoke up.

 "Donde Diablos esta Rover?" His main concern was that they weren't paying enough attention to the $2.5 million robot, thinking that it would melt into a puddle of aluminum and tin when they couldn't see him. Rising shakily to his feet, Frank looked around.

 "I'm not sure," he spoke, his voice slowly turning into a pant as the sun pounded on 

him with nonexistent hands. "Rover?" he called loudly into the microphone.

 Valentino put his hands to his ears in a useless attempt to ease the volume of the sound, but to no avail. "Argh! Don't yell in the mic!"

 "Sorry. Keep forgetting to lower the mic's output," he said, messing with his N-Com attached to the sleeve of his suit.

 "There!" Armando wasn't talking about the volume. He was pointing toward the horizon, where, on it, the small form of a humanoid could be seen wandering around.

 Frank continued to mess with the Navigation Computer, muttering, "Where is that stupid..." not paying any attention to what Valentino was trying to show him.

 "No, hermano, look up!" He grabbed Frank's helmet and turned it to view the shape, which was now only a few yards away from them. As the brown haired Frank stood, a high-pitched "SCREEEE!" blared into their headsets. The two scientists doubled over, grasping their helmets.

 They couldn't hear anything, couldn't see anything, and couldn’t even smell their own body odor. So they didn't even notice when Rover ran right past them, or hear him say "Sorry, patron!"

 The Hispanic struggled to his knees. "Que Diablos? What was that?"

 Frank fell to his hands and knees, his body trembling. "I dunno. But…” His breathing became even more difficult. “I… I think we should…” His body fell limply to the ground. All Valen heard after was snoring.

 Squinting his eyes, he looked back to try and see the figure of RVR-43, but only saw the glimmer of the blazing sun bouncing off of his metallic coverings. What could be wrong with that robot, thought Armando.

 

 

The next day, Armando was in the kitchen, making a hardy breakfast of migas (eggs with soft tortilla chips and salt) and a batch of his famous horchata, when in stumbled Duke.

 "So," he muttered. "What happened out there?" Armando flashed him a look of confusion.

 "You don't remember?"

 Frank put a hand to his head. "Not really. All I remember was a flash of pain and blazing heat."

 "Well," he began, "it seems that Rover is malfunctioning for some reason.

 "Malfunctioning how?"

 Taking a drink, Valentino let his wavy, black hair fall down onto his forehead. "Apparently he has some sort of dilemma going on."

 "How do you suppose that?"

 "First of all," he was now punching buttons on his N-Com, "the log says that Rover sent out that wave that knocked us prone when we were out there looking for him."

 "Wait, what wave?"

 "The screeching sound."

 Dr. Duke put a hand to his head. "I think I remember that."

 "You flopped onto your stomach and complained about the heat. Anyhow, I did a scan-"

 Duke turned his attention to his N-Com. "Wait, he's still connected?"

 "Just his vitals. You can't connect a call with him." The other let his arm drop slowly. "But like I was saying, I did a scan, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with his systems. He knows exactly what he's doing."

 "But I thought you said he had a dilemma? Those are only caused when there's something he's trying to figure out that conflicts with the Laws of Robotics."

 Armando waved his hand. "That's putting it loosely. They say that, years ago, U.S.R. sent two of their engineers here with one of their droids."

 "And they started having trouble with theirs, too. I remember the story, Valen." A small snap from somewhere made them look around. “What was that?”

 The other man got up and began pacing the room. "I don’t know. Probably the air vents metal growing. Anyways, I was thinking, what if something like that is going on here?"

 "Not possible. Their robot was messed up because they had loosely ordered it to go and get selenium, but there was something dangerous around there, so it kept walking around the pool, balancing the Second and Third Laws. One pushing it forward while the other pushed it backwards."

 "And how is this any different?"

 "Well, first of all, we sent it to go get rocks instead of selenium."

 "So? There could be something around there that's messing with it," Valentino was now heading into the Comm. Room with Duke at his heels.

 "That's why you're the engineer and I'm the psychologist. But I would have thought even you could have seen that, even if there was something dangerous, the Second Law would push him forward."

 The Comm. Room was a very tech-based room. The most advanced computer sat against the wall farthest from the door. Two cabinets full of basic algorithms and equations for solving any Positronic Algebra problems were standing on either side of the desk. There were no posters, no pictures, nothing as far as decorations.

 The door slid open and Armando walked toward the computer, sat down and began clicking some of the buttons. "What are you doing?"

 "I'm searching for his position."

 "But I thought you said-"

 "I said we couldn't connect a call. I didn't say we couldn't track his position."

 "Have you tried?" The Northerner pulled a chair close and sat in it backwards.

 "I was tracking him all last night and this morning, but I lost him about two hours ago."

 "He hasn't come back?"

 "Not yet... Okay, it's got a lock. Oh!" Just as he let out the shocked sound, the door to the right of them slid open with a hydraulic swoosh.

 "Hey, patron," said the robotic man, his voice as smooth and rough as an actors back on Earth. "I got the rocks. Should I take them to the grinder?"

 Valen jumped up. "Rover, where've you been?"

 "He just said he was getting the rocks, which proves that there wasn't any danger around there." The psychologist turned toward the red figure. "Go ahead and take them to the grinder, Rover."

 "No, wait," the engineer walked toward the humanoid. "Before you go, why did you stun us?"

 The metal face of the robot was always in the same blank expression, but the voice was always changing. He blankly stated "To protect you, of course," then shuffled out. The hiss of the door sent a chill down the psychologist’s spine.

 "What does that mean: 'to protect us'?"

 Reaching down, the engineer shut down the computer. "Obviously there is some sort of First Law danger we don't know of."

 "Then why would he stun us, instead of just telling us to head back?"

 "I don't know. I'm not as smart as you Psycho-guys, remember?" And with that, he walked out to the Bunk Room. 

 

 

The sun was blazing up in the sky when Valen and Duke started loading up their things into the Mercury rover. They needed to get to the Western Base for some analyses that should have been ready by then. While they were on the road, they might as well collect as many rocks as they could on their way back. Along with food for the trip, they were packing the essentials: pick-axes, heavy-duty bags, radiation meters, etc. They were already hoisting the Silicate Mineral Radar into the back as well when they heard a questionable buzz.

 Out of trained instinct, they turned their Comm.’s connection to Rover off quickly. It had been a week since the first incident with Rover, but he’d done it three other times. But this time was different. Dr. Duke saw the red blur that was Rover’s colorful painted form whizz by and stop in front of them, arms stretched out wide, as if asking for a hug.

 He turned on his connection again, starting with small volume first, and then getting louder. No ringing. Armando was getting into the driver’s seat while Frank said, “Get out of the way, Rover. We’re going to-“

 “Stay inside, I hope,” the robot quickly blurted. His head quickly twitched to the side, but neither the psychologist nor the engineer noticed.

 “What’s he saying?” Valen was looking at Frank with interest, one hand on the wheel, the other on the ignition.

 “Just turn on your Comm. There’s no sound.”

 He did just that, and asked, “Why do you keep playing that sound, anyways?”

 “To protect you.”

 “Cut the crud, you mechanical piece of-“

 “Armando!” Then to Rover: “Why would stunning us protect us?”

 The form did not move. “I cannot allow you to stay out here any longer. Please go inside.”

 “We need to go and get rocks for the grinder.”

 “You need to go inside, patron.” The form now began to close in on the car, hands still outstretched. “I may not allow a human to come to harm through inaction.”

 

 

“That blasted scrap-heap! How dare he try and keep us in here!”

 The Bunk Room wasn’t as bland as the Comm. room, but was still a bit empty. To either side of the entrance, a bed leaned against the walls. There was a desk next to each bed where they could access the main system.

 Duke was lying on his bed, reading a science fiction magazine, but periodically glanced up at Valentino, who was, as usual, pacing the length of the room.

 “By his logic, it makes sense.”

 The engineer shot a pudgy finger towards the sandy-haired man. “Don’t you take that nitwits side!”

 He closed the magazine and set it aside. “Just listen, if he were to allow us to go out and get some rocks ourselves, he would be putting our lives at risk.” Another snap. “Where is that coming from?” The other apparently didn’t hear the snap or the psychologist’s remark to it.

 “Then why did he let us roam the surface when he first got here?”

 Duke got up and went to the terminal set up in the Bunk Room. “I was wondering the same thing. So I started doing some tests on the atmosphere.”

 Valen leaned over the other’s shoulder. On the screen he could see some sort of curved red line heading toward a circle, while on the other side of the screen there was a giant curve, nearly a line because of it’s arc, where the red curve had originated. The red curve was heading toward the circle and reached half way, then blipped back to the origin. 

The clip repeated continuously. “I don’t know what I’m looking at.”

 “This,” Duke said, pointing at the nearly straight curve on the left side, “is the sun. The other circle is Mercury. But the red line is what’s worrying me. That’s a solar wave headed towards us. It should dissipate before it gets to Earth, but it’ll hit us hard, possibly even too hard for us to deal with. If we could finish up our orders and leave within two weeks, we should be fine.”

 “Is this why he won’t let us outside?”

 “Well, the effects of the wave are hitting us already,” he got up and went to the door. “But I could be wrong. I’d need to talk to him to be sure.”

 Both of the men flinched when a high-pitched siren went off throughout the base. It was the Detonation-Proximity Alert.

 

 

The tired, sweating scientists were sitting at one end of the table in the Conference Room. A Standard Earth clock, displaying date, month, and year, hung on the wall behind them. In front of them was the door to the hallway. They had finally gotten the code to deactivate the Alert by contacting I.R.C. Armando was still a little worried about how crunched the connection was, but the heat in the room was much more intense than the few hours before, making him lose his train of thought. Duke checked his N-Com thermostat.

 109° Fahrenheit.

 The door slid open, revealing Rover, who, even with no expression, seemed to be happy that the two weren’t trying to get out again. “You wanted to speak to me?”

 “What have you been doing?”

 “I was loading some of the rocks from the rover into the grinder.”

 “That’s all?” Duke was expecting that he was hiding something, but he couldn’t rush in. He had to approach this from a professional view. But the heat! “Are you sure you didn’t do anything else?”

 “I am sure, patron.”

 Armando Valentino slammed his fist on the table. “Then why did the Detonation-Proximity Alert go off?”

 “As you know,” began Rover, but Valen dropped into his seat, obviously angry, “the ‘grinder’, or the Terrestrial Meteorite Crusher, grinds down Mercury rocks into a thin powder that-“

 “That we make into thin bricks to cover the ceiling with. We know. What does this have to do with the alarm?”

 The robot put its hands into the air, as if to apologize. “The machine is very complex, patron, and not even I understand it completely. I put a boulder into the grinder, and a warning message was sent to my system. It said that the system was on the verge of exploding.”

 “Did it say why?” The psychologist was setting up his final few questions. He didn’t, however, agree with the flash of anger expressed by his companion. “Rover, what exactly did the message say?”

 Rover sat still, and then a beep from both of their N-Coms. On the screen, the message was being displayed:

 

WARNING!

Over-production of Silicate levels.

Do not load more Terrestrial Meteorites.

If Silicate levels proceed to increase,

Detonation may be imminent.

Thank you.

 

 The message seemed to be very short and to the point, but it did make sense to Armando. He had studied the mechanics of the ‘grinder’ since they got the mission. He was well aware that the Silicate minerals in the Mercury rocks were deposited into what should have been a ‘safe deposit area’. What exactly that was, he had no idea, but now he wanted to know.

 “But,” the robot’s voice pierced the silence that had engulfed the room, “there is one other thing.  I was taking some of the finished bricks so that I may put them onto the ceiling when I noticed that there was dust flying off.”

 “What’s so shocking about that?” Armando was standing and looking through one of the cabinets in the room. “We’re on a planet full of rocks that are corroding.”

 “And yet,” the robot squeaked, “Is that not exactly the problem? When I got to the top, nearly half of the bricks had broken apart.”

 “That’s what those continuous popping sounds must have been!” Frank looked at Armando, who was holding a folder in his hand, but had looked up at Rover.

 “Then our lives are in danger from two perspectives.” The worry that had seeped into the psychologist’s voice seemed a bit forced to him, but he knew that neither the engineer nor the robot would notice. He was correct.

 “We should just pack up and leave!” The worry in the engineer’s voice was most definitely real. He had even forgotten about the blueprints of the Terrestrial Meteorite Crusher and was now gathering some of his files and folders from around the room.

 “You can’t!” The quick motion of Rover jumping to his feet combined with the urgency in his voice made the two men jump back. “I cannot allow it, patron.”

 “What do you mean, ‘you can’t allow it’?"

 “Just that.”

 Rover began to walk back out toward the hall as Valen yelled after him. “Don’t you leave, Rover! Dios mio! That robot has gone mad!”

 

 

The Oxygen tanks weren’t quite full, but they would be utterly useless if they didn’t complete what they were sent here for. I.R.C. was clever enough to send them coordinates of the original mining stations that were set up years before. The ship was to be at least 100 yards away so that, if the base were to be in danger, at least their means of escape would be safe.

 They spent the next three hours collecting half of the 52 oxygen tanks and taking them down into the tunnels. But if either of them went near one of the exits, a red blur would whizz past them and Rover would end up blocking their way. So, when he wasn’t missing or trying to tell them that he was ‘protecting’ them, they sent him out to collect the tanks for them.

 Armando took periodic breaks to call up I.R.C. and tell them what was going on. According to their networks, said Director Arda Writhe, they had no knowledge of the storm headed in their direction.

 Each time he tried to contact them, however, the connection became fuzzier and fuzzier. Finally, Valentino gave up completely on trying to contact Earth. We should be headed home before the storm can reach us anyways, he reassured himself.

 For the younger scientist, time passed more differently. He wrote in his journal, kept checking up on Rover’s Positronic pathways to make sure no true dilemmas had appeared. He also tried to go outside, but each time, Rover was there.

 “What is so dangerous about us going outside?” Frank pestered.

 “The radiation of the sun and the continuing elevation of the heat,” RVR-43 responded, “would surely kill you, patron, if not cause you harm.”

 “What about the other two weeks? You never tried to stop us then.”

 “There was never so much radiation.”

 “But,” Frank Duke was sure he could create a solvable dilemma that would cause Rover to stay inside. “Radiation could destroy the pathways in your brain. Would it be worth it to destroy you to save us? You would just be delaying the inevitable.”

 The robot paused, obviously thinking hard on the topic, as a robot does when a dilemma arises. I’ve got him, thought Duke. “It would be worth it if I could buy enough time to finish the bridge.”

 Before the question of what he meant could be asked, the robot wheeled away. From around the corner, Armando walked toward Frank.

 “What did he just say? I couldn’t hear from over there.”

 Frank started walking toward the Comm. Room. “He said he was making a bridge, but I’m not sure what that has to do with anything.”

 “Maybe,” Valen sounded enthusiastic, “it’s a bridge to the ship!”

 The other stopped as if his feet hit quicksand. “Wait. If he’s making a bridge, he would need bricks.”

 The engineer’s mouth fell wide. “But, the grinder is near… Dios mio! He’s going to kill us!”

 “That couldn’t happen. He would knowingly be putting us in danger just by doing so.”

 The door slid open to the room and Duke went straight for the cabinets. He went through many files until finally “Gotcha!”

 “What’s that?”

 “This is a report of what the breakdown rate of Mercury rock has been for the past one-hundred years. As you can see, the rate has gone way up, causing the size of Mercury to shrink even more quickly than ever. So what if the rocks are doing the same thing, but possibly even quicker when they go through the grinder?”

 “That would explain what he was saying about the bricks decaying as well.”

 “Precisely. However, with our only source of protection from the sun decaying, we would be as vulnerable as chickens in a rotisserie.”

 

 

It was now nearly ten days until the true power of the storm would hit Mercury, and the temperature had sky rocketed. 104° was the average in the base, but now it was nearly breaking the 120-degree barrier. Soon, it would be dangerous for them to even be in the base, if it wasn’t already. Armando had suggested they keep an eye on Rover, see what he was doing and try and make some sort of plan on how they could get him to let them out. So far, their only idea was to present him with the fact that, if they stayed in the base, they could die, while, if they went out for only a few seconds, they could get to the ship located not that far away.

 But they never got a chance to try it out. Rover spent all of his time finding rocks with small enough Silicate mineral levels to put into the grinder or collecting Oxygen tanks. When he would hand them over to one of the two men, they asked Rover to stay for a second, each time, however, the robot just saying “I must protect you” and walking off.

 “He can’t do that,” Armando bellowed. “He can’t, can he?”

 Duke, who was tired and weary after spending so many days in the consistent heat, shrugged. “If he sets up the current scenario just right, yes he can. If he believes that staying here and following our orders takes precious time away from being able to create the layer of protection we need, then he could override the Second Law preference to follow First Law to ‘keep us safe’.”

 The other just sighed. “Why couldn’t they have just stuck with robots that were too stupid to even think of anything but the order given to it?”

 On and on the cycle went. A day, three days, then before they knew it, a week had passed. The storm would be upon them in less than forty-eight hours. They loaded more and more of the Oxygen tanks into the tunnels, making sure to leave at least two every time for the next day. After, they would watch Rover do his rounds. For the first couple of hours, they followed him by the N-Com GPS, but around mid-day, the interference got too intense that they could barely see the map itself. Then, to finish off the day, they would sit in the Bunk Room and brainstorm what they could do to get Rover to let them out of the base so they could get to the ship.

 As the days droned on, the ideas got crazier and crazier. They were about to agree on just bashing the walking clock’s head in when yet another alarm went off. Running into the hallway, the pair began screaming for Rover.

 “What’s going on? Is the grinder overloading again?”

 Rover appeared at the end of the hall, red eyes glaring at them. “Don’t worry, patron! I’ve got the entire situation under control!”

 “What situation?” Valen pushed his way out of the doorframe. “What is going on this time, Rover?”

 “There is nothing that you need to concern yourselves with. The grinder just sent another warning, is all.”

 “And that doesn’t concern us?” Anger was seeping into the engineer’s voice. Duke grabbed his arm.

 “Calm do-“

 Valen pulled his arm away. “No! This mechanical Diablo won’t get the better of me! He’s still feeding rocks into the blasted Crusher! He’s going to kill us!”

 The robot took a shaky step back. “I… I c-couldnot-not-ot kill...”

 “Calm down!” Franklin Duke made his voice a giant yell to get over the robot’s muttering and the blare of the alarm. “Rover, turn off the alarm.” The red form didn’t move. “That is an order!”

 The alarm ended, but so did all of the rest of the sound. Silence. This will be the end of it, Duke said silently to himself. His voice seemed as a knife in the dark when he said, "You two, come with me.” The sandy-haired man started walking through the hallways. The others followed like drones. “I can’t deal with this anymore! This will be the end of it!”

 They got to the end of a hall that led to the southern hatch. He wheeled around on his heels to face the never-blinking red eye-sensors. “What’s the maximum capacity for Silicate in the grinder?”

 “50 liters.” The robot seemed to still be trying to understand the exact meaning of Valentino’s earlier statement. His voice was a whisper; his metallic body flinched when the man first turned around.

 “What are the levels at now?”

 “73 liters.”

 Valen jumped into the conversation. “What about the danger level?”

 “62 liters.”

 Gasps. The black-haired man shook his head in disbelief. “How could you let it get so high?” RVR-43 did not answer. “Answer me!”

 The shrill voice came out louder than expected. “I had to protect you! I needed to make more bricks to finish the bridge.”

 “What bridge?” Valen had had it. If some answered don’t show up, he thought, I’m going to rip those sensors out of their sockets!

 The answer didn’t come in the electric voice. Instead, it came from Frank. “You called it earlier. He’s been making a bridge to the ship.”

 “How do you know that?”

 “That is the only thing that makes any sense.”

 “And you are correct, patron.” The robot was now talking normally, and was about to say more, but was cut off by the deafening sound of yet another alarm. Unlike the others, however, this alarm was followed by a woman’s voice.

 

“WARNING: PLEASE EVACUATE THE AREA.

DETONATION IS IMMINENT. TERRESTRIAL METEOR

CRUSHER HAS LOST POWER. PLEASE FOLLOW

EVACUATION PROTOCOLS TO THE NEAREST EXIT,

DRESS IN MERCURY ATMOSPHERE-SAFE EXO-SUITS

AND HEAD TO THE NEAREST SAFETY BASE.

WARNING: PLEASE EVACUATE…”

 

 The voice droned on and on. Frank turned toward the wall-port to his right and began punching in numbers.

 “Are you unlocking the suits?”

 “Of course I am.” He was just about done with the code and was going to hit the "enter” key when a broad, red hand grabbed his shoulders and pinned him to the opposite wall.

 “You cannot go outside, patron! It is nearly 600° out there!”

 “With our suits,” Armando argued, “the heat would be no more than 120. Besides, if we stay in here, we die!”

 Duke felt the grip loosen, but not enough for him to push the robot off. “You cannot-- heat and radiation… too high! I must protect--!”

 “Hold on,” the engineer began. Both heads turned towards him. “The message said that the grinder ran out of power. I was studying those blueprints front and back. There is a way to redirect power from another source into the machine.”

 “But where would we get the extra power?”

 A shaky hand flew in front of them. “I sha-all use the enerr-rrgy from my core-my core. The base is going to ex-explololode within five minutes. This is the the only way- the only way patro-on will survive-iv-ive.” They knew it must have been true. With the temperature being so high, the bridge not being finished, and the grinder on the verge of exploding, they knew that this was indeed their only way out.

 “Do you know the blueprints of the machine?”

 “Yes.”

 “Then look for Energy Ventilation Port 301.”

 As the red form of RVR-43 wobbled away, every motion he made being counteracted by another, the scientists could hear the soft voice mumbling “I… I-I must prote-ect…” “Good luck, mi hijo.”

 

 

The pair were already dressed and grabbing any of the last reports that they could. They had set their N-Coms to display a timer counting down. Frank knew he shouldn’t have, but stole a quick glance anyway.

 2:47. 2:46. 2:45.

 His heart was racing. He could barely even think straight. The base was exploding and their only means of escape was walking out in probably 500° weather for 100 yards to get to their ship while their robot companion walked toward the cause of the explosion, hoping to buy them enough time to escape the blast radius.

 They had done the calculations. Lift off would take two minutes. Rover’s energy would buy them no more than three. The blast radius would be around 200, maybe 250 yards. They would need every second offered them just to make it out. In other words, there would be no saving any piece of Rover, or the Oxygen tanks.

 Well, he thought, there goes our bonus for a job well done.

 The duo was now waiting by the hatch, clutching onto loose folders and two or so tanks. Armando reached over and entered the code for the hatch release. A muffled clank, an eerie screech, and the door opened.

 As they were about to step out of the hall, they heard the faint call of the woman’s voice earlier.

 

“NEW ENERGY SOURCE FOUND.

ESTIMATED DETONATION TIME:

FIVE MINUTES AND TWENTY SECONDS.”

 

 They glanced at their N-Coms. 2:09. Rover bought them more than three minutes! Looking forward again, they noticed the shimmering image of the ship, 100 yards away.

 “Are you ready?”

 “Let’s us get out of this inferno, hermano.”

 Luckily, the bridge was nearly 35 yards long. It was padded enough that they didn’t feel the immense heat change until they were ¾ of the way through. But the change was definitely noticeable. Soon, the pair was panting uncontrollably, their brows filled with sweat. On they went, knowing this was life or death.

 “There’s no way I’m dying on another planet other than Earth!” panted Duke.

 “Save your breath. You need to focus!”

 Before they knew it, they were out of the shaded cool of the bridge and under the bright, blazing sun; it’s rays pounding them flat. Armando looked up.

 He estimated 60 yards to go. Good gracious God above, he thought, please end my tribulations. Let me live through this and I’ll retire. Maybe get a nice casita on a beach, raise some children with my wife, and never spend another day with a blasted robot again.

 He could worry about that later. They needed to get off this rock. He checked his N-Com thermostat, out of curiosity. 124° and rising. They were almost there.

 From now on, Duke pondered, maybe I should make sure all of my duties are on planet. I won’t ever leave the solid ground of Earth again, he sighed.

 They had finally reached the ship. It didn’t look like the space ships they used to make back in the early 2000’s. It wasn’t vertical, but it was horizontal and vaguely resembled a hover car. The wingspan of one wing alone was approximately 3 yards, the body 9 yards, and all together, about 16 yards. Both of the men were tired, but had to keep pressing onward.

 As Frank reached up and glided the hatch down into the open position, they heard a weak “Whoop! Whoop!” coming from the base. “That’s the two-minute alarm! We have to get out of here now.” Valentino’s pulse was escalating faster, faster.

 They wasted no time stumbling into their only way off of the desolate rock that they considered their home for the past couple of weeks. Setting the folders and tanks into the storage compartments, they sped walked to the main cabin. Armando took the pilot’s seat and Frank strapped himself into one of the seats in the back. “Let’s get out of here,” was all he could think to say.

 “Hang on, Duke!”

 He had expected the roar of the engines to be calming, a sort of last reminder that they were going to be safe, but instead it sent yet another chill down his spine. “Do you think Rover…?”

 Armando didn’t hear, or didn’t want to hear. Either way, his hands didn’t slow, flying from lever to switch to gear. Before Frank could ask again, he could feel the force of the craft gliding upward. There were no windows in the back, but he knew that just to their left was the base, as well as RVR-43. He wanted to yell, “We can’t leave him to die!” but he was a psychologist. Not just a psychologist, a Robot Psychologist. He knew that Rover would not agree to leave his current post since, in doing so, the base would explode with them right beside it.

 Instead, he let his head hang forward.

 The Hispanic hit the “mode” switch, and, when the message “Switch modes confirm?” came onto the display, hit the “confirm” option. The craft took off forward. He added a bit of force, making the craft tilt upwards. They were on their way. A beep made him glance at his N-Com. 59 seconds. We can make it.

 Within half a minute, they were out of the blast radius. They were safe in the atmosphere, headed back towards Earth. Once they reached a steady velocity, Frank moved to the passenger’s seat next to the driver’s. He looked down.

 “Ten… nine… eight…”

 “Don’t do that to yourself, hermano.” Frank lowered his arm. “It only makes it harder.” A short silence gave them an idea of what they were going to deal with for the next twelve days, until-

 Boom.

 

 

They had been travelling for nearly seven hours. Not a sound was made but the hum of the engines as they sped away from the dust bowl planet of Mercury. They travelled in silence, except for the one time Armando tried to ease the atmosphere, saying that Greg Smout would rip them each a new one for losing one of his precious robots.

 After a while, Frank used the rear-view camera to zoom in on where the base used to be. He looked away as soon as he saw the crater. He later tried to contact I.R.C., only to be met with overwhelming interference.

 “We’re still too close to the solar wave to make or receive any trans-“

 A beep from both of their wrists. “I don’t believe it,” muttered Frank. “It’s from Rover.” He accepted the message and began reading aloud for Valentino.

 

Patron,

I believe that this is a very horribly timed message, so I request you forgive me. I sent this message at 9:05:45, a millisecond before the explosion. All I wanted to state is that I hope you would forgive my over-protective behavior over the period we’ve known each other. To best protect you and serve you have, after all, always been the reasons I was created. Included in this message is a strand of data labeled ‘RVRMem.sav’. I would hope that you could give this to the engineer known as Gregorius Smout when you reach Earth. It is my memory banks.

Thank you.

RVR-43, “Rover” 

 

 “My lord,” the black haired man’s shoulders were moving up and down. Frank realized he was laughing. “That Diablo wants them to make a ‘Rover 2.0’!” He pressed the “delete” option on his N-Com. “They only need one copy of his memory.”

 Both the engineer and psychologist heaved a grand sigh and reclined. They could just relax for the rest of the trip.

 

Two months had passed. The duo was back on Earth and had even dealt with a few other cases for I.R.C. including some dealing with false identities and a few with genetic engineering mishaps. After that, however, they were called into the main office to be seen by Greg Smout.

 “I told you he was going to rip us a new one,” Armando kidded.

 “I’m sure he would have scolded us the first time we told him, not wait this long to tell us.”

 The Hispanic put a broad hand over the other’s shoulder. “Unless he was coming up with the greatest speech ever yelled.”

 Together, the duo walked into the office of Dr. Smout only to be met with an empty room. “Where is he?”

 “Oh, there you two are!” They turned around and saw the one and only Dr. Gregorius Smout, his black hair and beard, his pudgy belly, and his blue slippers being worn instead of shoes.

 “Hello, Dr. Smout,” began Frank. “I’m Dr. Frank J. Duke, Lead Psychologist-“

 “That isn’t necessary, my boy. I know all about your credentials,” he patted him on the shoulder. “As well as you, Mr. Valentino.”

 “Call me Valen.”

 The group shook hands and with a hardy “Pardon me,” Greg made his way into the office. He sat down at his desk and looked at the two men. “Now, I bet you two are wondering why exactly you’re here instead of Dr. Writhe or I just calling you up via Holo-screen.”

 “In fact, yes we were,” stated Armando.

 “Yes, well,” Dr. Smout patted his belly and began looking around his desk. “Ah, here it is.” He reached down into one of the open cabinets and brought out a folder. “This is your newest case, if you accept, that is.” He laid it flat on the desk. 

 One of the men reached down and flipped open the cover. “We’re going to be placing satellites on one of Saturn’s moons?”

 Greg’s smile faded into a frown. “Is that a problem?”

 “Shouldn’t we have robot’s to do that for us? It is the 23rd Century,” Armando stated.

 “He has a point,” blurted the other. “We barely survived our mission to Mercury. I don’t want that stress for no less than $2 million.”

 The Hispanic nodded and began walking towards the door.

 “Now, before you decide,” Smout shrieked worriedly, “I would like to introduce, err, re-introduce you to your new counterpart.”

 The two men looked at each other and shrugged. “Sure,” Frank blurted.

 “Come in, please,” yelled Greg.

 The door swung open and in came a form. As soon as he saw the mechanical man, Frank let out a nervous laugh and placed the folder on the table, saying, “I accept.” Armando just stared at the red casing, shocked.

 “Go on,” Smout chuckled. “Say hi.”

 The mechanical man waved his hand at the two wide-eyed scientists that were staring at him. Finally, he spoke.

 “Hola, patron. It’s nice to see you two again!”

Author's Note

I sent this to Asimov's Sci-fi magazine and it was denied publication. What do you think of it?