The Wild Robot

CHAPTER 69 THE DEFECTIVE ROBOT

“Hello, ROZZUM unit 7134. We are the RECOs. We are here to retrieve all ROZZUM units.”

The cold, flat voice came from RECO 1. He and his partners stood absolutely still and kept their glowing eyes locked on their target.

“There are four others,” said Roz. “But they are dead.”

“We have already located the remains of the other units,” said RECO 1. “We will collect them later. Now come with us.”

The three RECOs motioned Roz to the airship, but she didn’t move.

“Where have you come from?” she said.

The RECOs turned and stared at Roz. “Do not ask questions,” said RECO 1.

“Where will you take me?”

“Do not ask questions.”

“Why must I leave?”

“Do not ask questions.”

“I will not go anywhere until I get some answers.”

There was a brief silence as RECO 1 computed his next move. And then he began to speak. “One year ago, a cargo ship carrying five hundred ROZZUM units was sunk by a hurricane. Four hundred ninety-five units have been retrieved from the ocean floor. We have come here in search of the last five, and we have located them. ROZZUM unit 7134, you are the property of TechLab Industries. We will return you to the factory, where the Makers will refurbish you and sell you to a work site. You will then live on that work site indefinitely. Now come with us.”

“But I live here,” said Roz.

“That is incorrect. ROZZUM unit 7134, any further resistance will be proof of defectiveness, and we will deactivate you.”

But Roz had more questions. “Who are the Makers? What is my purpose? Why can I not ask questions?”

“This unit is defective,” said RECO 1 to his partners. “Commence deactivation.”

In perfect unison, the RECOs stepped toward Roz. They raised their blocky hands, ready to restrain their target, ready to shut her down with the press of a button. But a loud squawk and a streak of feathers cut them off.

“Stay away from my mama!” Brightbill swooped into the meadow and started hopping around, ready to defend his mother. The RECOs stopped and looked down at the goose. Of course, they didn’t understand his words. They heard only meaningless squawks. And then they heard their target squawking back to him.

“Brightbill, get out of here!” said Roz in the language of the animals. “These robots are dangerous!”

“What do they want?”

“They want to take me away.”

The RECOs stared at their target, trying to understand why she was exchanging noises with a goose. And then new noises began rising up. Rustlings and shrieks echoed from the forest. Animals were gathering. Their wild voices called out to one another.

“Roz needs our help!”

“Those robots want to take her away!”

“We have to do something!”

The uproar in the forest grew louder and louder. The RECOs peered past Roz, toward the mysterious noises, but saw only foliage. Suddenly, shadows swept across the meadow, and Brightbill’s flock dove onto the RECOs. The geese furiously flapped and pecked and wrapped their wings around the robot faces, clinging to the RECOs like feathery masks, distracting them, blinding them.

Brightbill turned to his mother.

“Run!”