His Robot Girlfriend (17 page)

Thursday the eleventh was Veterans’ Day. That
meant a four day weekend, but with the end of the war, parties were
planned in every city in the country and all forms of
transportation were booked solid. The next long weekend was
Thanksgiving and that was for family. There was nothing to be done
but to wait for December 11th, when school let out for winter
break.

Veteran’s Day was turned out to be very
enjoyable, despite a rain storm—or maybe because of it. Mike spent
most of the weekend inside watching movies and drinking hot cocoa.
He had gone to the cemetery on the day to watch the solemn
ceremonies. He put a small American Flag just behind Tiffany’s
headstone. The sexton almost always forgot her because her marker
was one that she had picked out rather than the military issue, but
she had served two years in the Army before they had met. He put a
white rose on Aggie’s grave.

Thanksgiving was quite warm. They could have
eaten in the backyard and been quite comfortable. Patience had not
only designed and built a large redwood deck and a brick barbeque
pit; she had completely landscaped the entire area with water smart
desert plants and trees, with a walkway winding here and there. She
had even dug a faux streambed and lined it with round rocks, then
built a redwood foot bridge over it. But it just didn’t seem right
to Mike to eat Thanksgiving Day turkey on the patio, so they ate
indoors. Harriet and Patience had coordinated the meal—turkey of
course; cranberry, apple, and butternut squash chutney; mashed
potatoes and gravy, sautéed green beans, corn chowder, and sweet
potatoes; lovely dinner rolls with butter; and pecan, apple, and
pumpkin pies. Everything was perfect. They had invited Jack’s
mother and when she showed up, it was all Mike could do to keep a
straight face. Her new boyfriend was not a robot but he looked
younger than Patience or Harriet, and much younger than Jack. With
Lucas’s arrival, it made it a true family get-together, and Mike
had to admit that he had a great time.

Mike didn’t tell either of his kids his
plans. He was sure that Harriet would be completely supportive. In
fact in the past few weeks, she had called up to talk to Patience
more than she did to talk to him. He thought that Lucas would
probably be alright with it too, now that he was sure about
Patience’s security profiles. But, why bother the boy. Better to
let him know afterwards.

They left after school on December 10th.
Patience had packed everything they needed for a two week trip and
she had secured the house. Mike had thought about driving
cross-country but that was too exhausting and there was no way that
he was going to climb into the aerial cattle cars that made up the
fleets of the country’s two remaining airlines. That left the
mag-lev trains. The normal commuter rail was comfortable enough for
the short haul, but not for three thousand miles, so Mike purchased
tickets on the Spirit of America. They were expensive—forty
thousand bucks a piece, round trip, but Mike was giddy with a newly
heavy bank account balance.

The two and a half hour drive to Anaheim was
easy enough and they spent the night at the Sheraton, just down the
street from John Lassiter Station. The next morning they checked
out and drove to the station, placing the car in long-term parking.
The recommendation was that passengers should arrive two hours
before departure, allowing one hour to check in and one hour to get
situated once on the train. Mike and Patience walked in the huge
revolving door of the station at exactly two hours before the 10:26
departure time.

In actuality, they spent less then thirty
minutes picking up their boarding passes and checking their
luggage. Then they found themselves on the loading platform next to
the massive red, white, and blue train. It didn’t look all that
different, other than its splendid paint job, from any of the
mag-lev commuter trains that ran up and down the length of
California. For that matter it didn’t look much different, if one
didn’t look underneath, from the passenger trains of a century
past. Once they stepped on board however, Mike and Patience found a
world of difference. Inside it was much more like a luxury hotel
than a train—a long thin luxury hotel.

Their suite couldn’t have pleased Mike more.
It was a tiny little room with two comfy stuffed seats, a small
table, and a third, less than comfy chair. At night, a double bed
folded down from the wall covering up the seating. The bathroom was
almost as big as the bedroom/lounge and featured its own shower.
Mike sat down and kicked off his shoes, relaxing and looking out
the window, which faced a large strawberry field. Patience left the
room and returned twenty minutes later with their luggage which she
unpacked into the closet.

“
Did you see how many cars
this train was pulling?” asked Mike.

“
They’re called coaches,”
Patience informed him. “And there are twenty two of
them.”

At precisely 10:26 AM, on schedule, the train
began to move out of the station. Unlike old time trains, it didn’t
buckle and jerk when it started. It didn’t rock either. It slowly
but steadily pulled forward accelerating until it was moving well
over forty miles per hour. Once it reached the edge of the city, it
would accelerate to almost two hundred.

“
I was going to ask for a
detailed itinerary before we left,” said Mike. “But I
forgot.”

Patience pulled a heavily laminated brochure
from a pocket on the inside of the cabin door and handed it to
him.

“
Oh.” Mike examined the
document. “This has all our times, but it doesn’t list the cities…
oh, wait. Here they are. They should have put them over here
instead of on the last page. They have everything listed by the
name of the station. I mean, who cares if the Salt Lake City
terminal is called William Jackson Palmer Station?”

“
William Jackson Palmer
Station is Denver,” said Patience. “Gordon B. Hinkley Station is
Salt Lake City.”

“
See. It’s easy to get
confused. I mean who really knows who William Jackson Palmer is
anyway? And before you say it, I mean who besides you.”

Patience looked confused for just a second,
as if she wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to answer or not.
Then deciding that she wasn’t, she went back to stowing their now
empty luggage. After a moment Mike asked. “Okay, who is he?”

“
General William Jackson
Palmer was a Civil War hero who also was the engineer in charge of
building a railroad line for the Kansas Pacific Railroad from
Kansas City to Denver. He later founded the narrow-gauge Denver
& Rio Grande Western Railroad, a critically important part of
Colorado's history.”

“
Alright. You’re right.
People should know why the stations are named the way they are.
When you’re right, you’re right.”

“
I didn’t express an
opinion one way or the other, Mike.”

A little after noon, Patience led Mike to the
dining car. Tables on either side of the aisle were arrayed with
linen tablecloths, shining silverware, and fine crystal glasses. As
soon as they sat down, a waiter approached them and filled their
water glasses.

“
Welcome to the dining
car,” he said in a rich and resonant baritone. “Today we are
serving your choice petit filet mignon; a Cajun blackened chicken
salad, or fresh water prawn linguini.”

Mike looked up. The waiter had an unusual
combination of features, as if his ancestry was from Africa, South
American, and Central China, but Mike recognized that his mahogany
skin was artificial.

“
Are you a
Daffodil?”

“
I am a robot and I am your
waiter,” came the reply. “That is all that I am permitted to
discuss about myself.”

“
Alright. I’ll have the
chicken salad.”

“
Very good,
sir.”

It was very good too. It came with some kind
of soda bread that Mike had never had before. He was going to ask
Patience what it was called, but he began watching the scenery and
forgot. Just after he finished eating, they passed the Sin City
Special on its way back from the first of its two twice-daily runs
from Anaheim to Vegas. And they were just getting up from the table
as the train slowly slid into the Harry Reid Station.

From the window of their suite, Mike could
see people feeding their cash cards into the video slots and poker
machines. He’d done enough gambling though over the previous
summer, so he didn’t feel the urge to debark and do so now.

“
What should we do?” he
asked Patience.

“
Why don’t you take your
texTee to the lounge and finish reading Moby Dick? That way you’ll
already have your seat for high tea after the train starts off
again.”

Mike passed through the dining cars, of which
he now saw there were two, and made his way further up to two more
cars which were outfitted as a lounge and club car, both with wood
paneling, plush couches and chairs and small tables. Several people
were playing backgammon in the club car, while two women were
watching vueTee in the lounge. Mike sat down just beyond the
backgammon players and opened to Moby Dick. He was down to the last
few pages.

He had just started reading when a familiar
baritone voice asked. “May I serve you a drink Sir?”

“
Were you my waiter at
lunch?” Mike asked looking up.

“
No, sir.”

“
A diet Pepsi,
please.”

“
Right away,
sir.”

The train left the station at 2:42 and not
quite twenty minutes later, the waiter, who had in the meantime
supplied Mike with not one but several soft drinks, delivered two
tiny sandwiches, some fruit, and an assortment of cheeses. Mike ate
them and read until he finished the book. Back in the room he found
Patience completely undressed and waiting for him.

Diners on the Spirit of America had their
choice of two supper times. Since Mike had eaten the food at high
tea, he chose the later of the two, which meant that they were in
the dining room while the train was taking on passengers in Salt
Lake City. From where he sat, he could look across the dining car
and out the far window at several very large, very ornate buildings
that made up part of the Mormon’s Temple Square. Patience was able
to identify the Assembly Hall, Tabernacle, Temple, and Joseph Smith
Memorial Building.

When Mike mentioned going back to the lounge
to watch vueTee, Patience showed him the large screen hidden behind
a painting in their suite. He took a long hot shower and then the
watched Juvenilia while lying in bed. Mike was asleep by midnight,
and noticed neither their crossover into Mountain Time, nor their
night-time stop in Denver.

The next day, Patience brought Mike breakfast
in bed, and he fell asleep again almost immediately after eating,
the smooth humming of the mag-lev lulling him into a REM state.
Although he was awake when they arrived in Kansas City, he didn’t
get up to take his shower until the train was already moving again.
He cast a quick eye out the window for Robert A. Heinlein Station
on his way to the bathroom. He knew Heinlein. In fact, he had
Starship Troopers queued up as his next book in his texTee. The
rest of the day was just as lazy as the morning had been, with Mike
kicking up his feet, reading Superman and alternately downing diet
Pepsis and hot cocoa. He spared a moment for the Chicago skyline
late in the afternoon, but paid no attention to Barack Obama
Station. By the time the train hit Detroit and stopped at Michael
Phelps Station, he and Patience had already returned from their
second supper of the trip and Mike was watching Starship Troopers
on vueTee, having decided to not wait until he finished the book.
They had just finished the movie as the train arrived in Cleveland
and Mike was asleep before it started again at 1:45 AM.

“
What time is it?” Mike
asked as felt his robot girlfriend shaking his shoulder.

“
It’s six
o’clock.”

“
In the
morning?”

“
Yes, Mike. I thought you
would want to watch out the window as we arrived in Washington D.C.
It is our nation’s capitol and you can see many of the great
monuments without having to get out of bed.”

“
We already passed
Pittsburgh?”

“
Yes. We were only there
for an hour, from three to four.”

“
I was thinking about
getting off the train there for a few minutes to look at the statue
of Johnny Weissmuller.”

“
Perhaps you could see it
on the way back.”

“
Definitely. You know I was
thinking that over the summer we could make this trip again, only
spend a few days in each of the cities. See the sights. That kind
of thing.

“
That sounds like a great
idea, Mike.” Patience smiled.

The truth was that Mike really wanted to get
out and see Washington right now, but there was no way to see
everything he wanted to see in a day, let alone the hour and a half
that the train would be in the station. He would have liked to
spend a month in the Smithsonian alone. Maybe he would now that he
was rich. Well not rich, but well off. Well he had a little extra
cash.

He looked out the window and watched as the
train pulled out of the station at 7:41. Then he climbed into the
shower. By the time he got out again, the train was already stopped
in Baltimore. When it started again, Mike walked back past the
lounge to the observation car and looked out at the scenery in
between pages of Starship Troopers. He wished that he had
discovered the glass-domed seating when they were passing through
the Rocky Mountains, but at least he would have something else to
look forward to on the way back.