Two hours, Justinian.
Thats two hours longer than I want to remain on this planet.
The flier followed an elegant arc through the deepening blue of the morning, a needle stitching the brilliant white clouds. Below, the turquoise sea was darkening, becoming deeper blue as they headed away from the equatorial region. A yellow-striped survey platform floated a few meters above the slap and foam of the waves, its human crew struggling to continue with their task without the aid of the platforms AI. High above, Justinian was feeding the baby. Their two flight chairs faced each other by a window; the others were still lurking aft. Justinian sat in one chair watching as his son tried to feed himself. The baby would scoop up the dinner, then turn the spoon upside down as he put it in his mouth. Orange shapes fell to form a loose scree at the out-turned bottom edge of his bib.
Leslie walked back from the flight deck and into the fliers main section.
Ive been speaking to the EA, he said.
Im very pleased for you, Justinian said sarcastically.
Theyve worked out the probability of either you or the baby coming to any harm from the BVBs. Apparently its negligible. Youre more likely to die on the journey home than as a result of a BVB.
Thats a comforting thought. Did they mention anything about the fact that my picture was stored in that AI pod?
They concurred with my theory: the pod must have done a search on the database and come to the same conclusion as the EA. You were obviously the best person to work out what has gone wrong here.
Justinian stared at the robot accusingly.
Why did you hesitate before answering? Youre a robot, you must have deliberately chosen to hesitate. Why are you choosing to sound shifty?
Im not. Im trying to sound sincere.
Sincere! Justinian laughed. That will be something to think about when Im flying home with the baby.
Justinian! Dont be so stubborn! Arent you curious about what is going on here? How can you just leave without knowing? Youll spend the rest of your life wondering!
The baby had finished his meal. Orange goo spattered the tray, the baby, even Justinian, who took the spoon from his son with a struggle, the BVB constricting his arm as he did so. The heat bandage was making him sweat under his passive suit. Calmly, Justinian turned towards the flight deck.
Ship! What time is the next shuttle off planet?
One hour thirty minutes.
And our ETA at the spaceport?
One hour fifteen minutes.
Justinian smiled at the robot. There you are. And all I own is my console and travel bag. No packing necessary.
The baby took advantage of the distraction to snatch back the spoon.
All gone, Justinian said, holding up the empty bowl for the child to see. The babys mouth twisted; he was threatening to cry. Justinian glanced across to the kitchen unit that had formed on the forward wall. Leslie, can you get me the pear halves? Theyre in the bowl over there.
I cant, the robot said sulkily. My hands are too fractally.
Fractally? Justinian said. Is that
a word? He looked intently at the robot. How can a robot be so lazy?
Its not being lazy, Leslie replied petulantly. Its about the appropriate expenditure and conservation of energy. If you were a robot, youd understand.
Justinian laughed as he went over to fetch the bowl. Now that he knew he was leaving the planet, his mood was suddenly a lot lighter. When he got back, the baby was hitting at a Schrödinger box that had appeared on the sauce-spattered tray in front of him.
Justinian made to flick the box from the tray, then paused just for a moment. In under two hours he would have left this planet and would no longer be encountering these bizarre artifacts. It was odd how, in just three weeks, he had become so blasé about something so unusual. He picked up the box and examined it carefully. It was small: about the size of the first joint of his little finger, almost a cube but for a slight taper to its shape. Merely looking at it fixed it in position; holding it clenched tight in his hand put a fix on it and kept it in place. He slipped it in his pocket, where he couldnt feel it through the padded material of his passive suit, then almost immediately he put his hand back into the pocket. The cube was gone.
He suddenly became aware that Leslie was watching him. What? he demanded.
Nothing, said the robot.
Justinian squeezed the handle of the spoon, making it frictionless for a moment. Orange sauce slipped from it to the tray. He squeezed the handle again and scooped a spoonful out of a pear half. Another Schrödinger box had appeared, lodged amid the pears themselves.
They never did figure out what these things were doing, he murmured to himself. They havent figured out anything on this planet. He raised his voice. Hey Leslie, he called, have they even figured out how to get into the Bottle yet?
The Bottle? said the robot, in surprised tones. Why bring that up?
I was just thinking about all the things I will leave behind when I get off this planet. Can they get into it yet?