2015 Young Explorer's Adventure Guide Read online

  “Then I’d get extra-tight hugs,” replied her mom, nuzzling Leli’s neck.

  “What if I had no ears or nose?” Leli sat up. “Or what if, like, my eyeballs fell out?”

  “Leli!”

  The gruesome game was doing her good. “No, wait! What if all that was left of me was one single eyeball?” She started laughing.

  Her mom laughed, too, shaking her head. “Then you’d be the most wonderful, beautiful eyeball in the universe.” She stood. “And you will get used to those legs, in whatever way is right for you. Dinner in an hour, sweetie.”

  …………………………

  All the next day, Leli avoided Volkie. She also kept her legs on most of the day, as a message to the Dofra kids. She wanted them to remember that she was Human and therefore should be tall. She even started up a conversation with a cute Human boy when she caught him staring at her legs. He really was only interested in the psychic technology, but it was thrilling to get any attention from a boy.

  Leli was filling her backpack after her last class when she heard a commotion outside. She let her legs follow the sounds. Outrunning all the students and staff, she soon found herself at the edge of Frabba Canyon, just off the school grounds. A fence kept kids from getting into danger. However, the fence wasn’t high enough to stop a flying disc.

  “Volkie!” Leli screamed, seeing her friend totter perilously over the steep rocks.

  Mogi ran up behind her. “She felt so bad about what happened to you yesterday,” he sobbed. “She wanted to prove the sled was safe. That girl’s too clever for her own good. She launched by climbing the fence and bellyflopping off! We can’t control the sled for some reason.” He punched frantically at the remote control box.

  “Hang on, Volkie!” Leli called. But it was hopeless. The disc went sideways, dumping Volkie between two jutting rock formations. She shrieked, and the growing crowd around Leli shrieked, too.

  “She’s stuck!” someone shouted.

  Police flew in, lowering a rescue team to help the terrified girl. Leli could see how hard Volkie was crying. She thought her heart would break. All her anger was forgotten, drowned by the love she felt for her best friend.

  “You’ll be out soon, Volkie!” Leli promised.

  The police didn’t look so hopeful. One of them spoke through a megaphone. “We have to wait for equipment that can break this rock. Then it will be a slow process, so we don’t hurt the child as we free her.”

  Mogi flailed his tentacles. “Where are they going to get equipment that’s powerful and careful at the same time?”

  Something about the phrase sparked Leli’s memory. She recalled her doctor’s description of her legs: strong enough to kick down a building, but could do anything detailed, even win a dance contest.

  “I’ve got this!” Leli announced, pulling off her legs. Using her hands, she hauled herself halfway up the fence so she could see exactly what was happening below. And she pictured what she wanted her legs to do.

  The crowd gasped as her legs jumped over the fence and started to pick their way down the rugged canyon wall. “Help is coming, Volkie!” Leli called over and over. Soon the others joined her. The canyon echoed with the comforting words, “Help is coming, Volkie!”

  The legs made it to the rock formation where Volkie was stuck. When the police backed away in confusion, the legs obeyed Leli’s thoughts. With fast, careful kicks, they cracked the stone around Volkie until it crumbled away. Within minutes the rescue team was able to pull the girl out safely and send her up to a flying ambulance.

  The crowd’s cheers were deafening as the legs climbed back to their proud owner. Leli didn’t get a chance to put them on, though, because dozens of joyful people, Humans and Dofras alike, smothered her in hugs and lifted her up. Now the canyon rang with a different chant: “Hurray for Leli’s legs!”

  A friendly police officer gave Leli a ride home. She let her legs jog behind the flying cruiser, which made the crowd cheer even louder.

  …………………………

  Leli slept for fifteen hours. By the time she dragged herself into the school, the morning bell had already rung. She expected the hall monitor robot to issue her a detention ticket. Something very different was waiting for her when she entered the school.

  Hundreds of students and faculty packed the foyer. Many of the Dofras had draped their floppy bodies over stepladders. A few were standing on stilts. The Humans sat on the floor or on skateboards, which they paddled around on using their hands. Spanning the hallway was a huge banner lettered with a message in a rainbow of colors:

  WE LOVE YOU, LELI,

  SHORT OR TALL!

  Leli realized that she loved them back. All of them. Short and tall. She pictured a happy little dance step, and everyone clapped when the legs did it perfectly.

  Goliath vs. Robodog

  Ron Collins

  Ron Collins’ work has appeared in numerous magazines and anthologies, including Analog, Asimov’s and Nature. This winter saw the initial publication of stories that comprise the Saga of the God-Touched Mage, an 8-part serial of novella length stories that have been listed in Amazon's top 10 dark fantasies in both the US and the UK. Of “Goliath vs. Robodog,” he writes: “It’s interesting to imagine everything robots will be able to do in the not-so-distant future, but sometimes it’s too easy to overlook things that really matter.” You can find more about Ron at www.typosphere.com

  It was 3:17 on a Friday afternoon in early May. Kids chattered in the hallway, and the sounds of slamming SUV doors filled the parking lot.

  Kevin Robbins was thirteen and finishing 8th grade. Kevin was also standing under the elm tree at the back of the school, trying to get past Trevor Johnson and his band of merry men so he could walk home.

  “You think you’re something special,” Trevor said, towering over him and enjoying the intimidating edge thirty pounds gives. “But you ain’t so hot now, are you, Robbins? You ain’t nothing but a freaking snotball hanging at the end of my nose. Everything about me is better than you. I’m taller than you. I play ball better than you. Hell, my robodog’s even better than that mangy mutt of yours.”

  “Come on, Trevor,” he said, praying no one else heard the waver in his voice. “Let me through.”

  “Ya scared?” Trevor pushed Kevin hard enough that his algebra book landed in a fluttering heap at Jimmie May’s feet.

  Jimmie May snapped his gum and stared at him.

  Kevin brushed thin bangs from his eyes and knelt to gather his book, cheeks burning with humiliation. He realized beyond doubt that he should never have opened his big, humongously fat mouth in Ms. Thompson’s class.

  Kevin muttered to himself.

  “What did you say?” Trevor asked.

  “I said Goliath is better than any old robot.”

  “Didja hear that?” Trevor called to his growing audience. “Kevy here thinks his mutt is a match for Robodog.”

  “That’s because he is!” a female voice said. Meredith Michaels, book bag slung over one shoulder, marched into the area.

  Kevin’s stomach dropped. Meredith was his neighbor and a good friend. A thick patch of freckles covered her nose, and her blonde hair was cut short in a way that usually made her look playful. Today, though, her cheeks were crimson with anger.

  “Goliath can take your dog any old day of the week,” she said.

  “Look, everyone,” Trevor called. “Kevin Robbins needs his girlfriend to take up for him.

  “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  “Ohhhooohhhhoooo,” Trevor mooned back. “Thou protesteth too hard.”

  “That’s supposed to be ‘doth protest too much,’ jerk,” Meredith said.

  “Whatever.”

  “Come on, Meredith,” Kevin said. “Let’s go.”

  Meredith wasn’t done, though.

  “You think Robodog is so hot,” she said. “Why don’t you prove it?”

  Trevor stuck his jaw out. “Name it.”

  “Fe
tch match. Here at the school in half an hour.”

  Trevor gave Kevin a carnivorous smile. “What do you think, Robbins? Loser’s underwear goes on Mr. Calhoun’s desk Monday morning?”

  Kevin squirmed. His mom expected him to be home when she and dad got back, but the ring of kids around them loomed with expectant leers. “Chicken,” he could hear them whispering.

  “You’re on,” Kevin said before he could stop himself.

  “All right, then. See you in a half hour, loser.”

  …………………………

  “Come on, Goliath,” Kevin said.

  Goliath was a Belgian shepherd, eight years old, with dark black eyes and velvety tan fur. He was happy to see Kevin, and even happier when Kevin opened the fence and picked up his throwing stick. Kevin scratched Goliath behind the ears, right where he knew Goliath liked it best. Kevin glanced to the kitchen window to be sure it was still dark.

  It had been another bad week. Mom had taken dad to the hospital for another round of tests this afternoon. If Kevin didn’t have his homework done before they returned, Mom would go off on him again. Dad was always tired, so he wouldn’t be any help. It would add up to an uncomfortable dinner and another evening alone.

  They weren’t due home until five, though, and with luck, he and Goliath could be back before then.

  “Let’s go, boy” he said.

  Kevin lived in a suburb of small brick houses lined up in perfect little rows. Each house had a concrete driveway, and each driveway had a car parked out front.

  As they walked, Goliath sniffed bushes and clumps of grass growing from cracks in the sidewalk. Kevin held Goliath’s throwing stick in one hand. It was over two feet long and maybe twice as thick as a broom handle.

  Goliath ran up past the Carter place.

  “Get back here,” Kevin snapped.

  The dog jogged back, his big black eyes wide as if to apologize.

  “Don’t get too far ahead, all right? We don’t want Mr. Carter to come out and shoot you or anything, you know?”

  Goliath gave a half-bark, half-whimper, then went to an evergreen in front of the Carter’s place and lifted his leg.

  Kevin groaned as he waited for Goliath to finish, thinking he should just go back home and face the barbs that being a no-show would bring. Why did he let Meredith goad him into this?

  A door opened from across the street. Meredith came out. She was a 7th grader, but taller than Kevin. She had changed to jean shorts and a T-shirt top. They had lived on the same street for as long as Kevin could remember. Kevin’s father worked for Meredith’s, and they had gone to all the same summer programs for years. He thought of her more as a sister than a friend.

  “Jill called, and word’s out,” Meredith said. “Everyone wants to see Trevor’s robodog. I wouldn’t be surprised if half the school shows up.”

  Kevin looked at the ground. Goliath barked, having run farther up the street. “Why me?” he groaned. “I’m just gonna to go home.”

  “It’ll be worse if you don’t show up.”

  He sighed. “It can’t get any worse.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Goliath will never beat Robodog.”

  “Well, then,” Meredith said, “maybe you should have thought about that while you were making fun of Robodog in Ms. Thompson’s class.”

  “I know.” He kicked concrete that had broken loose from the sidewalk. “I just couldn’t take it anymore. That stupid Robodog is all Trevor ever talks about – Robodog gets the paper. Robodog watches TV with me. Robodog’s favorite show is ‘Fallout Shelter,’ just like mine.”

  Meredith laughed. “You do a good Trevor.”

  “Just what I needed to hear.”

  “For what it’s worth,” she said. “It really was funny when you asked if Robodog drank from the toilet, just like Trevor.”

  Kevin grinned.

  The class laughed, and Trevor’s face had gone red as Ms. Thompson’s nails.

  “Yeah, I suppose it was. But I’ve been dreading this ever since I said it.”

  They walked toward the schoolyard.

  “How’s your dad?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “They’re not due home until five.”

  “You worried?”

  Kevin nodded. His dad had dropped forty pounds in three months, and now spent all day in front of the TV. He didn’t golf. He didn’t play catch. He didn’t do much of anything else except read and sleep.

  “They don’t talk like they used to,” Kevin said. “Mom and Dad, I mean. They used to get into arguments and stuff before, but it was always over quick, and things were ... I don’t know. Now nobody talks at all.”

  “Why are parents like that?” Meredith said. “They tell us to deal with things, then can’t handle it themselves.”

  “Yeah,” Kevin said.

  Something didn’t feel right about that. He thought of the way Dad watched him now. He would stare so deeply while Kevin ate, or would watch Kevin while he did his homework or played ball in the front yard. It was a little creepy sometimes, but... Then there was Mom, who worked at the law office three or four times a week. She was always busy. But he would catch her staring at Dad with her lips tight and lines spreading over her face.

  Kevin didn’t know what was wrong, and he didn’t know what to do to make things better. Worse, he had come to understand that neither of his parents knew any more than he did.

  “I think they’re just scared,” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” Meredith replied.

  “Nothing to be sorry for.”

  “I shouldn’t have gotten you into this robodog thing.”

  Goliath turned the corner and ran off into the open field.

  “Maybe Goliath will win,” she said. “Maybe he could beat Robodog.”

  “Ha!”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, dummy,” Kevin said, “in the first place Goliath’s no puppy. He’ll get tired in a flash, and that’ll be it. Then there’s the fact that robodogs use special alloys and composite bindings to keep them light. And they have computers that control balance and muscle movements. They can turn corners in the blink of an eye.”

  “Sounds like you know a lot about ‘em.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’ve read a bit.”

  Truth was, Kevin had wanted a robodog himself. He even asked for one for Christmas a few months back, but Mom and Dad said they didn’t have the money. Besides, what would Goliath do with a fake dog around? But Kevin knew that robodogs were sleek and cool and came in hundreds of breeds. You didn’t have to feed them like a real dog or deal with dung bombs when you wanted to play ball in the yard. Keeping a robodog going was just a matter of charging the batteries at night. It even took care of itself if you told it to.

  Robodogs didn’t even slobber.

  And you could program them to do tricks.

  Once, when Kevin was eight or nine, he had tried to teach Goliath to roll over. He had gotten down on his hands and knees and shouted, “roll over,” while pushing the dog. Goliath just pranced around and licked his face with that rubbery tongue of his.

  He smiled, despite himself. Those had been good days.

  “Pif,” Meredith said.

  “What?” Kevin replied.

  “Do you believe everything you read?”

  “Well, no.”

  “And we’ve never actually seen a robodog, have we?”

  “No. Not in person, anyway.”

  “Well, then,” she said. “I’ve got faith in Goliath. I bet he’ll beat Robodog.”

  Kevin straightened up. Meredith could be right. Maybe he was giving Robodog too much credence. Goliath was a good dog, and he had been penned in his yard all day. He was obviously excited about being outside. He looked ready to run.

  Kevin felt better.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “No problem, dummy.”

  They turned the corner. There must have been fifty kids around the schoolyard. Goliath was squatti
ng down in the grass, quite obviously taking a dump.

  Meredith laughed.

  Kevin’s face flushed.

  This, he realized, was going to be bad.

  …………………………

  Kevin stood in the middle of the field with his back to Trevor, their dogs each at their heels.

  Robodog was a black lab, the young adult model. Its coat shone in the sun and its tongue hung in a fake pant that gave its cooling system access to the air. Goliath sat still, also panting. His own pink tongue lolled out the side of his mouth, a long sliver of dog saliva dripping molasses-like toward the ground.

  The schoolyard was an open field with empty soccer goals at each end, some swings, and a few sparse trees here and there. The grass had worn patches where team practiced.

  Goliath whined. His gaze was focused with intense longing on the throwing stick.

  “Twenty-five tosses, right Robbins?” Trevor asked.

  “Yeah,” Kevin replied, “You have to throw the stick at least past Mr. Kennedy’s gingko trees for the toss to count. I have to make it past the line that runs across the swings.”

  Trevor nodded acceptance. “We need someone to count down.”

  “I’ll do it,” Meredith said, stepping forward.

  Trevor glared at her for a moment, then smiled.

  “On three,” she said, raising her hand.

  The crowd grew silent.

  “One.”

  Kevin twisted to get leverage for his own toss.

  “Two.”

  Trevor cocked his arm.

  “Three!”

  Kevin threw the stick, and Goliath took off, his collar jangling with each stride.

  Voices from the crowd rose.

  The first toss was farther than Kevin wanted. Goliath chased it down, grabbed it, and lumbered home. “Good boy,” Kevin said as he winged the stick back into the schoolyard.

  It was a good start. He took a backward glance at Robodog, who was just returning his stick. Great! Maybe Goliath could beat this machine. The mob’s voices receded into the distance as the game wore on. Kevin cheered for Goliath with each throw, and the dog barked for the pure joy of chasing the stick. By the eighth toss, though, Goliath was slowing, and by the twelfth he was nearly sauntering after the stick.