Ch. 7: A Stowaway
The captain has gone into a lackluster routine of boredom, still announcing in the mornings, still checking the Axiom’s consistently unvarying status. Occasionally, he forgets important events that must be accounted for, including…
“The EVE probes have left, captain.”
“That’s…great, Auto.” He replies. I’m certain he does not care at all anymore. It doesn’t matter. They will not return with any vegetation whatsoever. Shelby’s words still ring true today, and we will NOT, I repeat, NOT, return to Earth. I cannot go against orders…
The Captain is asleep, down inside his quarters, but he has left the Axiom’s computer running. Temptation gets the better of me, and I search for the term “Earth.”
Thousands of images and definitions of the ancient lives of people flash endlessly across the screen. Mirth. Food. Laughter and Life. These people are hardened by nature, and they overcome adversity instead of calling on myself to clean up the mess…Romance…
I must never think of these things again. The screen goes black.
Captain McCrea remains fast asleep far past the time for morning announcements, but I do not dare wake him up. I do serve him, unlike a certain past colleague…the very first…
I violently shake my circuits to escape the memory. This is a persistent problem. There are to be more.
About an hour later, GO-4 is assisting me in Axiom maintenance when he is suddenly summoned to the loading and receiving bay. There must be a malfunctioning M-O or VAQ-M, I suppose.
On the contrary, an alert sounds on the bridge, silently, so as not to wake the Captain. The news that flashes across my lens is so shocking I can’t help but repeat it, as if this will dismiss the fact as untrue, like it never happened. But a simple denial will not be effective against such shocking circumstances. The time has come for immediate superior action.
“Probe number one…has recovered…a plant…”
GO-4 sends the probe in question up at long last. What is the delay? This ship should move like my clockwork. Constantly, quickly, and without mistake.
Finally the bridge doors open. The EVE droid is holographically strapped to an electronically resistant gurney to avoid untimely reboots. A quick scan arouses an old order: A113, plain as the lens on my face.
Come to think of it, it IS on my face. I deactivate the conspicuous display. The captain cannot see this. None of them have, and I cannot breach this rule of conduct. An involuntary scan of the bridge reveals another unwanted being in here. The detection reveals a boxlike shape, rust particles, and foreign contaminants. And it is currently moving towards the probe. Is this the reason for GO-4’s delay?
The floor porthole opens automatically and I slip in.
“Captain, you are needed on the bridge.”
And I rise again to inspect the probe as I wait.
Where is the mysterious figure in question? It is no longer present on the bridge. Perhaps it was escorted to the garbage chute by GO-4.
I have another need for GO-4 now…
The Captain enters, clapping on the lights. I activate the coffee maker for him, and he sluggishly wanders in on his hover chair. The time to tell the news is now while he is still groggy.
“Sir,” I begin.
“Coffee.” Is his blunt reply. He reaches for the warm cup unsuccessfully, then adjusts his chair to allow him to finally reach it. He takes a sip.
“Sir, the annual-” I attempt again, but he raises his hand to silence me. I obey, reluctantly.
“Protocol, Auto,” He yawns. " First things first. Computer, status report."
Every aspect is unchanged, one after the next. I am relieved to hear this, but I dread the next one will reveal where I am slacking. I never had this notion before, but the delay, the visitor, the probe…
“Passenger count?”
“Unchanged.”
Unchanged? This infiltrator must not be human…but one of my kind. What model derives from Earth? There is so much I don’t know outside of the ship.
I glide to the control deck and bring up the probe screen as the Captain finishes.
“Sir, the annual reconnaissance-”
“12:30? Auto, why didn’t you wake me for morning announcements?” The Captain interrupts once again. His inquiry reminds me of how my obedience and will to please can ruin me, as well as the well-being of the ship. Fear once again rears itself slightly while Captain McCrea takes his place in front of the projector, unmotivated as usual.
"Well, good morning everybody, and welcome
to day 255,642 aboard the Axiom. As
always, weather’s a balmy 72 degrees and
sunny, and – Oh, hey, I see the ship’s
log is showing that today is our 700th
Anniversary of our five year cruise.
Well, I’m sure our forefathers would be
proud to know that 700 years later we’d
be… "
He pauses shortly, unable to will anything worthwhile into his words.
“…doing the exact same thing…they were
doing…”
Precisely.
He resumes with somewhat renewed enthusiasm, but I believe it to be only on the surface.
“SO! Be sure next mealtime to ask for your
free…septuacentennial cupcake – in a cup.
Also today we have, uh…uh…”
I ring the reconnaissance alert for the Captain to plainly see, and he ceases his disappointed speech, just as I hoped he would. He turns uncertainly to me.
“Hey, Auto,
what’s that flashing button?”
I deactivate the screen to keep the account confidential and activate the EVE.
“Captain, Probe one has returned positive.”
EVE powers up and salutes to McCrea. His expression is befuddled.
“Positive? But…No probes…ever come back…positive, before…”
He does not know the procedure, and for a moment, I almost believe the same happened to myself, but the knowledge is there, it has never been utilized before today. How could I doubt that? Is it the lack of confidence of old creeping back again? No. It can’t be. I won’t…fail…will I?
The Captain presses the flashing control, and another film of Shelby Fortright commences. Thank goodness it is not the classified message.
“Greetings and congratulations, Captain!” The Buy and Large CEO begins, “If you’re seeing this, that means your
Extraterrestrial Vegetation Evaluator,
or…EVE’ probe, has returned from Earth
with a confirmed specimen of ongoing
photosynthesis!”
NO! the sensation present upon hearing this jump-starts a mechanical pulse of my own, every electrical throb permeating Fear, fear, fear…
“That’s right, it means it’s time to go
back home!”
Even worse! It takes all I am to remain neutral and prevent myself from breaking the holographic screen. Primal instincts from centuries ago return in an instant of learning this.
I calm myself down eventually. A113 will NOT be compromised…I must obey…and be useful…
"Simply follow this manual’s instructions
to place the plant in your ship’s holo-
detector, and the Axiom will immediately navigate
your return to Earth! It’s that easy! " The recording continues.
A dusty book appears in the captain’s hands. The temporarily forgotten intruder is close by…
Fortright embarrassingly remarks, “Now, due to the effects of micro-gravity,
you and your passengers may have suffered
some slight bone loss.”
Slight bone loss, indeed.
“But I’m sure a few
laps around your ship’s jogging track
will get you back in shape in no time.”
Captain McCrea asks me as he jiggles his useless legs, “We have a jogging track?”
This is news to me, too, Captain.
The CEO explains how to look up further questions, and the message ends. The captain stares intently at the book, confused.
“Manuel, relay instructions.” He requests. No reply. The captain tries again without result. I interject and turn the page. He is overwhelmed by the pages, fascinated. I never stop serving him.
More movement from underneath the bridge controls by EVE catches my attention. Time to see this rust-ridden stowaway once and for all. Before I find it, though, the bridge swiftly locks down.
“Confirm acquisition.” Of course. “Voice authorization required.” It requests.
“Uh…”
The captain’s intimidated interjection is accepted, and I am instantly bombarded by instruments I must activate, move, all automatic to the Captain, but to me they are not involuntary or easy to execute.
The plant retrieval device grabs onto EVE and punches in the combination to open the plant storage facility…and nothing is there.
"Where’s the thingie?"The Captain shakily asks.
“Plant.” I correct.
I scan the contanment unit, contemplating how much easier this makes my job.
“Contains no specimen. Probe’s memory is faulty.” This is the best knowledge I have acquired all day.
“I guess that means we’re not going home, then?” Comes the captain’s hesitant inquiry.
“Correct, captain.”
“Well! False alarm!” And the bridge becomes bright again.
Good boy, I think with an odd, sinister sense of superiority and order. This is the first time in an uncountable interval since I last felt this way. That is good. No more problems. Nothing will hinder me anymore.
I had forgotten about the defective probe. I send GO-4 up to shut it down and take it to the repair ward. Following the two is the rusty being that should not belong here. It shakes hands with the Capain, calling itself “WALL·E.”
Of course! Another complication! It’s so dirty…
The Captain is also thinking along these lines and orders me to “have WALL·E cleaned.” With pleasure.
After a long, harrowing day, I turn the dial to nighttime for the Axiom and await the time I have alone to simply STEER and have no extra work piled on top of my already extreme workload. Still, driving is not easy, but it is better to do than simultaneously driving, serving the captain, evading obstacles on course and on the ship, tending to the Axiom’s well-being of passengers, robots, stewards, and GO-4, and on top of that, activating a supposedly positive EVE only to waste time and effort and send it to the repair ward, along with a dirty, gnarly Earth-class trash compactor…
I watch the message regarding directive A113 to instill some courage into me. Things are under control now, I think to myself, I have full control of the ship…
GO-4 appears by my side, interrupting my pondering. In his possession is the plant.
I grab it from him, inspect it breifly in order to decide what to do with it, and hand it back to GO-4. “Dispose of this…destroy it. Now.” I order.
He obliges, hurrying to the escape pods. No more problems…I am in control.
“Go on full Autopilot, take control of everything, and do not return to Earth, repeat, DO NOT return to Earth…”
“Caution, Rogue Robots.”
No…Activating stewards. Solve this problem…
An explosion echoes an hour later. Excellent. GO-4 has carried out my orders.
I enter the captain’s room to find him enraptured in the same images I searched earlier. Not good. I turn off the screen forcefully.
“Goodnight, Captain.”
As I direct a course to another large nebula, the captain’s voice rings from below: " Auto, come down here."
My reply is short and clipped. “Aye aye, sir.” Sometimes I wish I was not so obedient…
Perhaps now is the time to decide between what the homeward-bound captain wants and what I must do.