Something Robotic This Way Comes

Something Robotic This Way Comes

John J. Miller

On a far distant planet whose landscapes were metal and plastic, whose rivers flowed in concrete channels, and whose sky was constantly torn by the sounds of battle, lived a race of robots called the Mini-cons, who knew little but warfare. They had fought the Decepticons all their long lives, and even the relatively benign Autobots were sometimes their enemies. In fact, once they’d all fled their world in an attempt to find peace, but had long since returned to Cybertron to live with the fear and suffering of war nearly every single moment of their lives.

Except for one night of the year, and that greatly anticipated night had finally come again.

As darkness fell over their world, the Mini-cons gathered around campfires burning in metal containers and listened with wide eyes to the stories told by the elders of their race. Around one campfire one very young Mini-con said to a very old Mini-con, “Tell us how this night first began,” and the very old Mini-con nodded and started to speak.

Autumn came hard and fast to that far distant, very strange land called South Dakota. Even though it was still early afternoon in the forested hills outside Lincoln,

(What’s a forest?” interrupted the youngest of the Mini-cons.

(The ancient Mini-con paused momentarily, frowning.

(“It’s a place of trees,” he said.

(“What’s —

(The ancient Mini-con held up his hand, forestalling the youngster’s question.

(“If you keep interrupting, we’ll never have time for the Treating,” he said. There was a loud grumble from the other robots huddled around the blazing campfire, highlights from the flames dancing on their metal and plastic faces. “I have a disk you can download later that will provide all the details.”

(The youngest Mini-con nodded, and the ancient robot resumed his story.)

“the air had a cool edge to it and there weren’t many hours of daylight left. The three human children, Alexis, Carlos, and Rad (who was called Bradley by his parental units and other clueless adults) were glad that they had worn jeans and sweaters. Unlike robots, they could not go unclothed on their world. It was either always too hot or too cold, too wet or too dry for their thin skins. The three Mini-cons who accompanied them, however, were not concerned about the temperature of the wind that had blew against their fine polymer coating.

While taking a break from their exploration of the forest, something the Mini-cons were fascinated with because they had never seen one before, the humans ate sandwiches and drank soda to replenish their energy supply. The Mini-cons, Sureshock, High Wire, and Grindor, who were not much bigger than their human friends, of course didn’t need to refuel themselves so inefficiently. But they were still so newly awakened on this strange planet that they were constantly on guard for an attack that might come from anywhere at anytime, their instincts conditioned by the continual conflict they’d known on their home world.”

“I’m going as a zombie,” Rad said. He was tall for a human of his age, and lean with wiry muscles that were still much weaker than a Mini-con’s. His hair was blond. His blue eyes shone with mischievous energy. “With a fake knife stuck right through the middle of my head, and my shirt soaked with a lot of fake blood. How about you guys?”

Carlos, who had short, dark curly hair and soulful dark eyes that human girls were already swooning over, vigorously chewed a mouthful of peanut-butter sandwich — chunky, with raspberry jam — and swallowed loudly before answering.

(Some of the Mini-con’s made faces.

(“Disgusting, I know,” the old robot said, “but these humans, as strange as some of their ways are, are not totally to be despised. Listen further.”)

“I told you before, it’s a secret. I’ve been working real hard on it for a couple of weeks.”

Rad grinned at Alexis, nudging her.

“Knowing Carlos it’ll be something shiny with all kinds of bells and whistles.” Carlos was a tech-head whose idea of a good time was spending hours in his garage building gadgets of all imaginable, and some unimaginable, sorts. “How about you?”

Alexis rolled her eyes. She annoyed Rad by being taller than him, and also by being a lot more serious than him, but they were still friends.

“Trick or treat is kid stuff,” she said. “I’m going out tonight —“

“Ah-ha!” Carlos and Rad said in unison.

“— to collect money for UNICEF.”

The boys looked at each other, muttering, while the Mini-cons looked as perplexed as their steel and polymer features allowed them to.

“Pardon me,” Sureshock said, “but what are you talking about?”

“Tonight’s Halloween,” Rad said, as if that explained everything.

Sureshock, High Wire, and Grindor remained unenlightened.

“You know,” Rad helpfully explained further, “Costumes. Trick or treat. Candy. Ghosts. Ghouls. Bobbing for apples.”

“What are ghouls?” High Wire asked.

“What are apples?” Grindor asked.

“Honestly,” Alexis said, rolling her eyes, “how do you expect these poor Mini-cons to know anything about our customs?”

“Don’t you have holidays on your home world?” Carlos asked

“What are holidays?” the Mini-cons asked in chorus.

“Tm sure Alexis can explain it,” Rad muttered.

“Of course I can,” Alexis said. She turned to the Mini-cons, who were waiting with the patience of attentive children at story time. “Holidays are, well, special days set aside to celebrate something, uh, special. Like Halloween, tonight. It’s an old custom. Well —“ she paused, frowning, “old for humans, anyway. It started in Ireland about twenty-five hundred years ago — “

“From what they’ve told us,” Rad interrupted, “that’s just the blink of a Mini-con’s eye.”

The Mini-cons all nodded seriously.

“Yes, thank you for your helpful interruption,” Alexis said sarcastically. “Anyway, for the Irish, October thirty-first was the last day of summer and also the last day of the year. They believed that the ghosts of those who’d died would return that last night to possess the living.”

“I see,” Grindor said eagerly. “So the special event celebrated on this day is the possession of the living by the spirits of the dead?”

Alexis frowned. “Um, no. Naturally, no one wants to be possessed by someone else’s ghost, so the Irish would dress up in scary costumes and parade around their villages making noise to frighten them all away.”

Grindr looked crestfallen.

“Nice try, though,” Carlos offered.

“The Irish,” Alexis cotinued, “brought the custom of dressing in costume on Halloween to this country. Now, of course, today no one believes in ghosts and things, so the holiday has changed somewhat.”

“Yeah,” Carlos took up the story, “now we dress up in costumes and go around and people give us candy and chocolate and all kinds of good stuff.”

“People just give you edible treat-stuff?” Grindor asked. He looked about as dubious as a Mini-con with a blank orange faceplate could look.

“Well,” Rad said judiciously, “you have to ask for it.”

“By saying ‘trick or treat,’” Carlos added seriously.

The robots looked at each other. Their human friends were usually quite reliable, but they were not above occasionally, as their vernacular went, “pulling their legs” in a playful manner.

“We don’t understand,” High Wire said for them all.

The kids looked at each other helplessly, then Rad suddenly snapped his fingers.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said. “Why don’t you come with us tonight, and see for yourselves?”

Alexis frowned. “I don’t think—”

Rad surreptitiously elbowed Carlos in the side.

“Hey — what a great idea,” Carlos said.

“Yeah,” Rad said. “You can come in your transport modes. Nobody will even realize you’re robots.” He winked at Carlos and added in a low voice, “And think how many houses we’ll hit with their help.”

Carlos eyes gleamed. “You got it, esse. Hey, we’d better bring two bags, each!”

“Two?” Rad snorted, indicating that he thought very little of Carlos’ lack of imagination. “Better make it three. At least.”

Alexis opened her mouth, but Rad forestalled her with an out-thrust hand.

“Think of all the money you can collect for UNICEF.”

Alexis subsided with a sigh. “All right,” she said. “Let’s meet at the schoolyard at seven.”

They all nodded, the robots as eager as their human friends.

It was already dark when Alexis reached the schoolyard, but she could catch the murmur of voices coming from the edge of the athletic fields and she realized that Rad was telling one of his stories to an audience consisting of Carlos and the Mini-cons.

The Mini-cons stood together in front of the jungle gym. Carlos, sitting at the adjacent picnic table, could barely suppress a smile. He held his face turned away from the robots so they couldn’t see the laughter threatening to convulse him at any second. Rad, with his back to Alexis, was in full declamatory mode. His voice rose and fell with dramatic emphasis as, wrapped in a long trench coat, he stalked back and forth before his enraptured audience.

The robots were enthralled. Grindor, who was the most imaginative of the three, the quickest to grasp alien thought and experience, was hanging on Rad’s every word. He gripped his team-mates’ shoulders with intense concentration as Rad’s dramatic oratory neared its climax.

In fact, everyone was so absorbed in the story that they didn’t see Alexis creeping up on them. Only a quick glance from Carlos told her that he’d noticed. She made a small gesture that asked him not to give her away. He replied with the briefest of nods and his hidden smile grew.

“ — and when they reached the driveway and the girl opened the car door they found a bloody hook hanging on the car door latch!’ Rad paused as the Mini-cons drew back, huddling closer at the intensity of his voice. He looked down at the ground for a moment and then leaped towards the robots, whipping his right hand out of his trench coat pocket where it had been concealed. “JUST LIKE THIS ONE!” he shouted, brandishing a shiny silver hook where his hand should have been, a hook that dripped thick, red gore.

There was instant pandemonium. High Wire, who was awkward while in robot mode, stumbled as he tried to thrust himself between the sudden attack and his teammates. Grindor, half transformed into a skate board, tripped over him and they rolled together on the ground, shouting at each other. Sureshock stood rooted, uncertain where to go and what to do. He barely managed to suppress his weapons systems, dubiousness turning into utter cluelessness as Rad leaned over, his hands on his knees, laughing out loud. It took Rad several moments to control himself.

“Jeez, guys, that was so funny—”

Alexis, a grim look on her face, stalked soundlessly behind him and grabbed him, hard.

Rad shrieked and jumped three feet in the air. He looked wildly over his shoulder, and Alexis couldn’t hold back her own laughter at the look of terror on his face. Carlos laughed so hard that he fell off the picnic table bench.

“That wasn’t funny!” Rad said.

“Neither was scaring our poor friends like that!” Alexis retorted.

“Jeez, what’s the use of Halloween if you can’t scare

some clueless goof—“ Rad huffed.

“Exactly!” Carlos replied, holding his stomach against the ache of hard laughter. “It’s funny because it’s so true!”

“Well—“ Rad was caught and he knew it. “It’s a good thing I didn’t slug you or something.”

“Yeah,” Carlos said, still chortling. “That was a great karate move you executed.”

“We — we don’t understand,” Sureshock said as High Wire picked himself off the ground and Grindor transformed back to robot mode in as dignified a manner as he could manage.

“It was all a joke,” Rad said. “See. My ‘hook’ is tin foil.” He smacked it against his head a couple of times to show that it was harmless.

“Now you have blood in your hair,” Alexis observed.

“That’s all right,” Rad said. “It’s only Caro Syrup with food coloring. I’m going to add a lot more when I attach the fake knife blade to my skull.”

“A joke?” Sureshock asked.

Rad shook his head. “You guys have to lighten up. We’ll show you how.”

“First,” Carlos said, gesturing at a massive pile of what looked like junk and spare parts behind the picnic table, “you have to help me into my costume.”

“All right,” Rad said. He grinned horrifically. “After I split my own skull!”

He whipped another shiny weapon out of the depths of his trench coat, and ran around the picnic table, screaming horribly as he chased a laughing Carlos. The robots grimaced to see such a terrible sight.

Alexis sighed and shook her head. It was, she knew, going to be a long night.

“I got the idea from you guys, of course,” Carlos said as the Mini-cons and their human friends motored down the streets of the strange little city.

(“What was strange about it?” piped up the youngest Mini-con.

(The old story-teller looked askance at the youngster, about to upbraid the youth for interrupting again. But he caught himself. Curiosity wasn’t so common that he felt compelled to stamp it out at every opportunity. He checked the chronometer in his left eyeball. They had plenty of time before the festivities were to officially start.

(“Well,” the old robot considered, “for one thing their housing units were neither armed nor armored.” There was a vibrating hum of astonishment as the newly created Mini-cons considered this strange fact. “For the most part they were constructed of wood — that’s a living organism that grows rooted in the ground — and natural or synthetic stone. Metal was utilized in these units only sparingly, and only for structural or ornamental purposes, for humans had little fear of attack. Of course, that meant when Megaton did show up “there were hisses and catcalls at the mention of the Mini-cons’ ancient enemy — “he pretty much devastated their cities, just by crushing them under his feet.”

(“Weird,” one of the youngsters murmured.

(The ancient Mini-con shook his head. “That’s not the strangest thing about the human dwellings.”

(What is?” they all clamored eagerly.

(The old story-teller pondered, then shook his head. “It’s hard to say. Of course, if I told you all the strange things the humans did, we’d be here all night and miss the Treating, but maybe one of the oddest was their habit of keeping what they called lawns, which were carpets of thousands of living plants that they tended assiduously, watering and fertilizing them continually, but then chopping them down at regular intervals when they grew too tall.”

(The Mini-cons pondered this for a moment, and then the ancient story-teller roused himself.

(“Well, we will be here all night if I don’t get back to the story. Now, where was I?”

(“‘I got the idea from you guys, of course,’ Carlos said,” said one of the Mini-cons.

(The old story teller smiled.)

“I got the idea from you guys, of course,” Carlos said as the Mini-cons and their human companions motored down the streets of the strange little city. He was encased from head to toe in an all-enveloping suit that made him look like a Mini-con, somewhat, but a clumsy, poorly-designed one. His body was mostly fiberglass with rubber or soft plastic bands around arm and leg joints and at his waist. A powered metal exoskeleton helped him move about. He made a very poor robot, but Sureshock politely overlooked his appearance.

“What do you transform into?” he asked. As usual, Alexis rode him as he’d transformed into a scoooter. Rad rode Grindor, who was a skateboard. Alexis watched them both closely because Rad would encourage the Mini-con to rocket down the street on his jets, an idea that Alexis always quashed. Carlos, in his bulky robotic costume, was teetering precipitously on High Wire, who was a sturdy motorized mountain bike.

Carlos frowned. You could see his facial expression behind his plexiglass faceplate. “Nothing, yet. I’m still working on that.”

Though it was dark the streets were neither entirely deserted nor entirely quiet. Parties of human children, ranging from toddlers accompanied by parental units to teens the age of the Mini-cons’ companions, roamed the streets in packs. The whole thing made the Mini-cons vaguely uneasy. Everything seemed very vulnerable to attack which could come from virtually any direction, but their companions seemed unconcerned by such a possibility.

“Let’s hit this neighborhood,” Rad called out. “Looks like no one’s been on this street, yet.”

They stopped at the head of a cul de sac with brightly lit, well-maintained domiciles. It was a mistake, Sureshock thought, for the dwellings to be so brightly lit. Though they looked lovely and welcoming they’d be easy targets in case of a Decepticon raid.

“What are we going to do with the Mini-cons?” Alexis asked as they dismounted. “We can’t just leave them here on the street. Someone might take them, and then where would we be?”

“Hmmm.” Carlos and Rad exchanged thoughtful glances. The presence of the Mini-cons on this planet wasn’t exactly a secret, but neither was it widely known. Sureshock and the others could well imagine the stir they could cause, especially coupled with the night’s activities, whatever they might be. The Mini-cons were all still a little nervous on that score.

Suddenly, the boys’ eyes lit up simultaneously, as if they’d been struck by the same idea.

“Hey!” Rad said. “Why not bring them along?”

“Yeah,” Carlos said. “We’ve got plenty of extra bags.”

“And,” Rad said diffidently, “they can share their loot with us. If they want to, that is.”

“Share?” Grindor asked.

“Loot?” High Wire said.

The three Mini-cons looked at each other uncertainly.

“We don’t understand,” Sureshock finally said.

“It’s easy,” Rad said. “You’ll catch on real quick.”

“Just follow us and do what we do,” Carlos said.

Alexis looked as if she might say something, but only sighed, unzipped her coat, and stuffed it in her backpack. There was no sense in making a special costume and then covering it up under a coat. Rad and Carlos looked at her closely. She felt a blush rise on her cheeks, but said furiously, “And I don’t want to hear anything from you two.”

“No, no,” Rad said. “It’s… nice. Real… nice.”

“Yeah,” Carlos said. “Looks like, um, you put a lot of work into it.”

“Harumph,” Alexis said.

“Very skillful blending of fabrics,” Sureshock said.

She turned to the robot. “Do you really think so?”

Sureshock nodded. “Of course. Very fine stitching and nice use of color.”

“It’s a princess costume. I saw it in a movie and fell in love with it.” She turned to glare at the boys, who looked at her with straight faces, and nodded. “I figured this would be my last Halloween costume, and I wanted something special.”

“Oh, it’s special,” Rad said.

“Very special,” Carlos chimed in. “Now, let’s get going.”

They went up to the first house. Rad — staggering in a stiff-legged manner that alarmed the Mini-cons — and Alexis were in the lead. The Mini-cons came next. Having transformed back into their robotic forms, they uncertainly held empty bags given them by Rad, looking as if they were ready for anything. Carlos brought up the rear. The servos that motivated his legs worked jerkily, making him slow and gawky. Sureshock knew that he’d be a liability in whatever action the humans planned.

Rad pushed a button by the side of the door and Mini-con’s sensors detected a chiming sound inside the structure. A tense moment went by — they knew neither if they would have to attack or run. Suddenly the door swung open, spilling a blaze of light from the hallway beyond, and the humans called out “Trick or Treat!”

The dwelling’s two human inhabitants were accompanied by a four-legged attack beast which made fierce sounds deep in its throat, but the vicious creature was held back by the female human. High Wire swivelled into attack position, but Grindor grabbed his arm and shook his head as the male spoke.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” He looked at Rad. “A zombie. How… nice.” He reached into the bag at his side, and Grindor had to restrain High Wire once again. When the human’s hand appeared again it was clutching… stuff… that he dropped into Rad’s bag.

“Thanks,” Rad said, and lowered his bag.

“And a princess!” the female human said. “How beautiful!”

“Thank you,” Alexis said. “I’m trick or treating for UNICEF.”

The man reached into his pocket. “I’ve got something for you, then.”

High Wire only looked at Grindor as the man put a bit of green paper into Alexis’ can. He was starting to catch on.

“Thank you,” Alexis said.

For the first time the humans seemed to notice the Mini-cons. Even the attack beast stopped making noise and looked impressed.

“And what have we here? Robots? Three, no four robots. Man, those are great costumes!” He frowned a bit at Carlos.

“Did you make them yourselves?”

“Yes sir,” Rad said immediately. “In shop class.”

The man shook his head. “You kids must all be very handy with tools.” He stuck his hand in his big and pulled out a handful of stuff. “Well, here you go.”

Rad kicked Grindor in the ankle, and the Mini-con held up his bag. The man dropped stuff into it. He turned to Sureshock, who said, “I, too, am trick or treating for UNICEF.”

“I guess I can find another dollar,” he said, and dropped it in his paper bag.

He gave more stuff to High Wire, and then he and the woman waved to them, said, “Have fun,” and closed the door.

“Not bad,” Rad told the Mini-cons as they went down the walkway and made their way to the next house, “but you kind of forget one of the most important parts.”

“What was that?” Sureshock asked.

“Saying TRICK OR TREAT!” the three humans yelled simultaneously.

Sureshock nodded. “Yes. I understand now. We give them the option and if they do not give us ‘treats’ as you call them, we destroy their domicile.”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Alexis said. “First, almost everyone gives you something when you’re trick or treating. Very few don’t.”

“Yeah,” Carlos said, “and those we mostly ignore.”

“Except,” Rad added, “if they’re really annoying, we might come back later and soap their windows or t.p. their trees.”

“Soap their windows?” Grindor asked.

“What is ’t.p.’?” High Wire said.

“We’ll explain later,” Rad said, as they reached the next house.

This time, the Mini-cons remembered to yell “Trick or Treat!” as the door swung open, dazzlingly them with bright, welcoming light.

“And that’s one of the great lessons we learned from our human friends,” the old robot said. “Can anyone tell me what it is?”

The youngest Mini-con leaped to his feet, excitement squeaking in his voice. “I know!”

“Yes?”

“There is power in numbers! United we can demand anything from anyone!”

The old Mini-con smiled. “No. That’s not quite it.”

“Make friends and you will receive gifts beyond number,” said a voice from the edge of the light thrown by the campfire. “Be generous in spirit, and others will be generous to you.”

The venerable Mini-Con nodded.

“Yes. That is the great lesson that we learned from Alexis, Carlos, and Rad. That is why we shall honor their names forever.” He stood up, his metallic joints creaking, no matter how assiduously he applied the lubricating oil. He knew that he didn’t have many centuries left before he wore out. “That’s why,” he said, taking a mask from a compartment near his heart and placing on his metal features the likeness of a girl who had been dust for thousands of years, “I wear Alexis’s face on the night of the Treating, and why I tell this tale as we gather together.”

There was a moment of solemn silence as the Mini-cons donned their smiling masks and their fake hooked hands and costumes they’d adapted from those of a strange, faraway world that nevertheless was close to the Mini-cons’ hearts.

Sureshock smiled.

“Who’s for Tricking?” he called, and the Mini-cons clamored around him with cries of joy, waving the rolls of t.p. and the bars of soap they always keep ready, just in case.

“Who’s for Treating?” he called, and their response was even more raucous and glorious.

The robots dispersed into the dark night, wearing smiles for once on their normally stiff and expressionless faces, without bombs, without machine guns or lasers blazing, ready to bask in the warmth of generosity and camaraderie, of friendships deeply-forged and never forgotten, as they walked among the welcoming shining lights that were for all of them, home.