Chapter 23

Day 2 in the Past; Second Hour in Time.

  "So tell me, what's the worst thing that has ever happened to you. . .and hand me that screwdriver over there, will you?"

  Andy sighed and kept his hands working on the internal wires of the robot. He stole a glance at Einstein, wondering why he broke the "official silence"; at least that's what Andy called the silence he loved to maintain during working period. The same one Harrison everly broke. For Einstein, Andy saw him as just the best person to work with, he was in every way just like him. Einstein's theme was: "Speed and accuracy."

  "What's the worst thing that has ever happened to you?" he asked again.

  Andy passed the screwdriver, slowly. As indifferently as can be, he said, "Losing my mum."

  Einstein asked, "Losing by divorce or death?"

  "Death."

  Without going through the common process of begging pardons, Einstein continued — eyes still unturned from what he had in hand.

  "How did she die?"

  "Surfing—"

  "She died surfing?"

  "No. . .I mean yes, got swept off by the current—"

  "She wasn't much of a surfer then—"

  "She was the best one could behold—"

  "Then she couldn't possibly have died could she?"

  Andy's fury was turning on, but he remembered his mother's words on controlling his temper since he was a kid: "Think of the peace of the sea—" and, so, he calmly said, "Well, you don't say."

  "Have you her body buried?"

  Anderson paused, then recollecting himself, he could only mange to say, "Well. . ."

  "Well, what?" Einstein turned to observe his countenance, this time.

  "It got eaten by sharks."

  "And how do you know that? You saw one dive at her, or you just weren't cautious of the whole detail?"

  Too angry to mutter anything else, Andy remained silent.

  "That's where relativity all falls in, Son. Sometimes, it's not all about how one wire joines another to make electricity; it could be mere logics. Logics are the 'what ifs' in physics. So what if there was more to the 'fact' everyone was 'meant to believe'? And if the facts don't fit the theory, change the facts; that's science."

  Anderson raised his eyes to meet the professor's.

  "But what if. . .what if she was dead—"

  "And what if not?" said the other, removing the gloves from his hands, vains prancing across his hardels.

  "Well it doesn't make any difference now, does it?" asked Anderson, dropping his tools to remove his gloves as well.

  They both sat on the working table, back against the robot.

  "I don't know, I don't care, and it doesn't make any difference, but one thing for sure that I know is that intellectuals solve problems, geniuses prevent them. You'll figure it out. Get a breath, I'm going to grab a sandwich, wanna join?" he was already walking out as he said the latter.

  Anderson nodded slowly as he looked intensely at the gloves in his loofs as though they had interesting paintings drawn across their edges.

  "Sure."

"CAREFUL THERE!" Einstein alarmed. "Just keep hitting it hard with that hammer and it would be steel in no time. That's it. . .now you don't get to learn this at school, do you?

  "Now take your time on this part. While it's reformable, you'll manipulate the steel to become just the shape we need for that surface."

  The duo were in front of the laboratory, producing some steel necessary for their project. They'd both worked out correct formulas, theoretically, before advancing to carry it out. They were enjoying the evolving success from the work. Andy was happy he finally got to carry out a practical on making real steel.

  Einstein assisted Anderson all through, but made sure the actual invention was carried out by the latter. He showed him how to make the layer of the robot, carefully, but in all finesse.

  The lad was all sweaty by the time he was done with the most pressing essentials at that moment. He pulled himself up to observe the lenses of his robot's head, and then he had an idea.

  "You know what, let's activate the head to see if the complex parts are functioning."

  "I suggest we join all parts, first, before carrying that out," replied Einstein. "You know we want to be sure it processes all parts of itself—"

  "Yeah, my point," Andy pressed on, "if we don't check it out now, then we find some errors after all parts have been installed, we'd have to start loosing knots all over again."

  "Well, what can I say?"

  "You don't have to say anything, it's worth the try." Andy connected the two depending wires of the central processing units to each other, and the eyes of the robot began to turn on slowly like a cable TV that had an unstable antenna. And then its eyes were calm and clear.

  The robot turned its face towards Anderson, while Einstein protected the head from rolling off the examining table. It, suddenly, began to electronically scan Anderson from head to toe. It did the same to Einstein.

  "Verified. . .creators detected," came the mechanical voice of the robot.

  Andy and Einstein exchanged surprised glances.

  "It worked," Einstein muttered slowly.

  "It actually worked!" cried Andy, punching his fists in the air.

  The robot said, "Cease the noise, I'm still processing the sounds around me—"

  "Huhn?" said Andy, arranging his glasses on his nose.

  "Huhn, what?" asked the robot, disgusted.

  "I thought I was inventing a robot, not a human."

  Einstein gave an old cackle.

  "Hi tech you asked for, high tech you programmed."

  Andy peered closely to get a good look at it.

  "Sound processing, completed!"

  "Wow, that was fast," said Andy.

  "What shall I be called?"

  A smile of awe was plastered across the faces of both Anderson and Einstein.

* * *

  The weather was just perfect for their evening stroll, thought Anderson. The sky was blue and clear, and the streets were as busy as ever.

  After steel making, that day, Einstein had it that the household went for a walk in the neighborhood. It was a way for everyone to free their mind.

  Einstein also meant this walk to be an opportunity to spend quality time with Marić. As they walked, they talked and laughed; for the aforementioned was a man of good humour. As Anderson watched the couple, he reminisced his own parents in his days as a child.

  Despite the odds, Marić was a very intelligent woman. She was smart and confident. Only she seemed very meek in nature, and of countenance.

  They sat by a waiting bench after a long walk to stretch their waist.

  People moved here and there, each to their own individual direction.

  "Can you tell us some things about your time and part of the world?" asked Marić to Andy.

  Anderson smiled, then nodded.

  "Apart from the great development in science and technology, the world just seems to be the same. Same crimes — only, modified methods. Same vast, incomprehensible mannerism in people."

  "Well, that's sad," said Marić. Then, she pressed on, "But there has to be something better."

  Andy gave it a thought, before saying, "Well, there's less bloodshed in my century than this; the war effect is just brutal, I read all about it—"

  "Ah, you've not the slightest idea," said Einstein. "Gratefully, it ended in 1918, two years ago."

  Andy smirked, looking straight ahead of him at a man walking with his daughter, about Andy's age, and a jolly dog ahead, connected to a chain in the man's hand.

  Marić was uncomfortable with Andy's smirk.

  As if sensing this, Anderson spoke, just after the little family before him was a stone throw away from them.

  "There's going to be a second World War—"

  "My! You don't say! Another war?!" exclaimed the pale-faced woman.

  "Keep it down, honey, you'll draw attention," said Einstein, with an equal face of surprise.

  "Yes, another war. And it's going to last longer than the first—"

  "How many years will it be?" Einstein inquired.

  "Six years."

  "Six years?!" exclaimed the professor and his wife.

  "What year will it be, the war?"

  "Nineteen thirty-nine—"

  "Then it shall end in forty-five?"

  "Definitely."

  "Wow."

  "What else should we know about our future?" asked Marić.

  Anderson gave a sigh. If only these couple knew they'd have their memories of every moment he'd spent with them swept, they'd have saved themselves the fuss.

  Einstein said, "You know what; I never think about my future — it comes soon enough."

  And the inquiry lady nodded her head in agreement, giving Andy a breath to feed his eyes with the beauty left of the war-ridden city.