The Mysterious Case of Betty Blue (4 page)

It was a big city, after
all.

Life might be cheaper someplace
else.

Scott held the bag and the stick in
the same hand. Going up was a lot easier although he had fallen
once, losing his grip on the handrail. Sliding down six or seven
steps, he was banged up on the shins, his left wrist hurt like
hell. His bananas were squashed and there was one tomato that he
never did find. His temper had been well and truly sparked that
day.

He had said a few things, at least
until Mrs. Jarvis came out and stood at the top of the landing,
asking stupid questions and quavering, which he had always hated in
a person. Of course the lady insisted on helping him. She came
clunking down the stairs even as he told her not to.

That made two of them on the stairs,
and it was all he could do not to tell the old lady to fuck off,
get the hell out of my way—and leave me the fuck alone.

He was just passing the second-floor
landing, tapping his way along, holding the handrail, as it was
easy enough to put a foot wrong and go tumbling down the
stairs.

There was the sound of a
door.

“
Mister
Nettles?”

Go ahead, make my day.

It was a hell of a lot easier to be
nice today. Just one of the many benefits of having a girlfriend,
he supposed.

“
Yes, Missus
Jarvis?”

“
Mister Nettles, I need to
speak to you about something.”

Scott didn’t hesitate, although
standing around in small talk could very easily disorient
him.

He navigated the last few risers,
tapping and banging the stick around so she would get back in her
apartment and leave him room.

“
Hi. So. What’s
up?”

“
Well. It’s just that I
was worried about you.”

“
What? About me?
Why?”

“
Well. I heard some
noises, and I wondered if you were okay.”

“
Noises?” The sounds of
traffic came up from the street below and Mrs. Jarvis had the TV on
in her apartment.

“
Last
night…er…”

Scott almost laughed aloud at the
doubtful tone.

“
Oh. I’m so sorry. It’s
just that the walls are thin.” And his bedroom was directly above
hers, most probably. “We’ll try to keep it down, and I am sorry
about that.”

Scott took a step.

“
Mister
Nettles.”

He stopped.

“
Yes?”

“
You’re the only one
listed on the lease, and you are supposed to inform me if your
circumstances change.”

“
Oh, well.
Yes.”

No pets. No parties, no unnecessary
noise after eleven p.m. While she had rattled off the terms of the
lease when he rented the place, that was years ago. Yeah, no pets.
He didn’t recall anything about circumstances.

“
It’s just that I rented
to one person.”

“
Ah, yes.” Scott was the
only one in the building who didn’t have a dog or a cat.

The perfectly rational fear of
tripping on the animal, falling and breaking the thing’s back or
leg was a compelling one, and he had never been able to bring
himself to take the risk.

Of course he’d have to feed the thing
and then there was the whole issue of them shitting all over the
place. He’d have to go looking for it, a couple of times a week
anyways.

“
Well, okay. We’ll have a
talk and then decide what we’re going to do.”

“
Thank you, Mister
Nettles.”

He could go on, but she had brought up
an important issue.

Not unexpectedly, she took the grocery
bag from him and then followed behind, breathing noisily and
grunting as she took each step.

Argh.

Scott opened the door. He extended his
hand and the weight of the bag dragged his arm down.

She wasn’t leaving and he repressed a
deep sigh.

I suppose I really ought to be
grateful.

“
Betty? There’s someone
here that I would like you too meet.”

There was dead silence in the
apartment. Fear stabbed at Scott.

He moved in through the door and of
course Missus Jarvis had no option but to come in.

Scott had endured worse.

“
Betty? Betty?”

“
I didn’t hear anyone go
out.” His landlady seemed mystified.

“
All right, well, maybe
she’s in the bathroom, or doing laundry or something.”

Mrs. Jarvis hovered right there at his
elbow.

“
Look, if she’s not here
then she’s not here. I’ll tell you what, Missus Jarvis. I’ll bring
her down and introduce you a little bit later, okay?”

“
Well…” That doubtful tone
again.

He grinned.

“
Look, I’m a big boy, I
can look after myself.” He wasn’t all that eager to show Betty off,
as deep down inside he had some doubts of his own.

The odds were she’d be gone soon
enough. The thought was enough to make him sag a little in the
knees. There would be questions. Scott hated questions.

“
Would you like me to put
your groceries away?”

“
Ah, no thank you, Missus
Jarvis.” The one time he let her do that, she’d cleaned out and
rearranged his fridge, which meant that for weeks afterward, he
hadn’t been able to find a God-damned thing.

“
All righty, then. I’ll
leave you to it.”

Scott gently closed the door. The
sounds of her stumping off down the hallway were plain enough. He
pried off his shoes, the toe of one foot against the heel of the
other.

He would untie them before putting
them on again. A knot in a shoe-lace was disaster, and so he left
them a bit loose. Sometimes he could squeeze them on without the
bother of untying and tying them. Sometimes he got angry just
trying to put his shoes on.

The toilet flushed, the bathroom door
opened and then Betty’s aroma was right there.

“
Sorry, honey. She’s not
that bad. She’s just curious.”

Scott moved into the kitchen, after
carefully leaning his stick in the usual place. He put the grocery
bag on the kitchen table.

She took his jacket and he heard her
go to the front hall.

“
Betty? Are you
okay?”

“
Yes, Scott.”

“
It’s just that you seem
kind of quiet this morning.”

She took his hand and led him to his
lumpy old armchair in the living room. He eased himself down into
it. She was standing right there.

“
Sounds like we’re going
to get some weather.”

“
Yes, Scott.”

The TV nattered away softly as the
team on the Weather Network cheerfully speculated as to how bad the
coming line of thunderstorms would be. The cold front was just to
the west, minutes away by their urgent tones.

Some sort of weather apocalypse in the
making, he gathered. He turned to Betty.

“
She’s just curious, more
than anything. She’s never heard a woman up here, I suppose. And as
for the lease—after a year, that means nothing. I mean, it’s only a
twelve month contract. After that, all bets are off.
Common Law.
I don’t
think she’ll make problems.”

“
Scott.”

“
Hmn. It’s okay, Betty. I
wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

“
Scott. We need to
talk.”

“
Yes?” Still smiling at
his thoughts—Missus Jarvis was in her late fifties and it occurred
to Scott that she might be a little jealous.

There was just a shit-load of lonely
people in the world when you thought about it.

“
There’s something I need
to tell you.”

His mouth opened and the dull tone,
the seriousness of it sunk in.

“
What is it,
Honey?”

His guts went cold and his heart
picked up.

Of course.

There is something she needs to tell
me.

The thought of losing her lanced
through him.

He sighed, putting his best face
on.

“
Okay. Well. Sit down and
tell me about it.”

Chapter Four

Scott felt all hollow
inside.

It was like he was going to be sick to
his stomach.

“
Scott. Please believe me.
I am so sorry.”

“
Yeah.”

So Betty was a robot.

Not only was she a robot, she was a
runaway robot, one worth an estimated three-point-eight million
dollars.

Betty was the finest robot that money
could buy, and she had picked him. Her owner, Doyle Cartier, and
his wife Olympia, were among the richest people on the planet. And
one day, she decided that the grass was greener on the other side
of the fence and walked off all on her lonesome. And then she
spotted me.

She seemed pretty rational by any
other standard.

In the surreal,
topsy-turvy economic wasteland that the city had become, the
Cartiers lived less than ten blocks away, having three floors at
the top of the majestic State building. It was their little
pied a terre
when they
were back home in the States and slumming, not far from where Doyle
had grown up. The tough streets of Union City hadn’t gotten any
tamer over the years.

“
Why me?”

“
Scott.”

“
No, seriously. Why
me?”

“
Scott, they have seven
other household bots, nineteen more conventional human servants,
and quite frankly, they’re never happy. Nothing is ever good enough
for them. Those people piss and moan about every little thing. The
sense of personal entitlement is appalling. I couldn’t stand them
for another minute. If they find me, I will destroy myself rather
than go back.”

“
Well, ah, Betty—Betty
Blue, my love, my ever true.” Scott blurted all that out with nary
a second’s hesitation. “If I have to live without you, why, then,
I’ll just have to slash up, or, ah, you know, chuck myself out the
window.”

“
Oh, Scott. No.” Robots
didn’t sigh, apparently. “What are we going to do?”

“
Them cops know you didn’t
get too far, not in that short a time. There are street and
intersection cameras. There are store security cameras, and big
front windows. Sooner or later, they will come back, and they will
be knocking at my door.”

“
I know, Scott.” On the
bright side, she’d turned off her transponder.

He wished he could see the expression
on her face right now. She might have just grabbed him, right off
the bat, as a start—a place to hole up, with a defenseless man who,
quite frankly, would have been easy enough to strangle at any
time.

The fact that she hadn’t, and then
gone off over the rooftops in the depth of night when things were
safer, was no real certification of her sanity or her intentions.
But. When someone said they loved you…shit.

What in the hell were you supposed to
fuckin’ do?

Love is blind, and so am I.

He couldn’t help or change the way he
felt about her. That was just pure karma—for good or bad, and he
had to roll with it.

What, am I supposed to do, just let
go?

There was no way in hell that was
going to happen.

Such is fate. Such is
destiny.

Such is life, motherfucker.

“
So.”

“
I was going anyway,
Scott. And then I saw you and I wondered. I could never have stayed
there.”

She wondered.

Well, so do I.

I wonder what that means.

“
Hmn.” His guts roiled
inside, his heart ached. “Well.”

“
Scott, I am so sorry for
endangering you. But they will keep looking for me. Sooner or
later, your landlady will wonder why I never go out.”

Sooner or later, they would get
caught.

It all came to him in a rush. Looking
back, it was strange he hadn’t caught on sooner.

They ate meals, and yet the food
supply seemed like the miracle of the loaves and the fishes. He
really hadn’t been spending any more on groceries.

She went to the bathroom, and yet her
shit didn’t seem to stink. When she peed, there was a tinkling,
watery sound. But that would be easy enough to fake.

At night, in bed together, her
breathing was a little too shallow and regular. She never snored,
or mumbled, or made little noises with her mouth. Her stomach never
rumbled, and the designers had seen no reason to give her even the
ability to fart. She didn’t drool in her sleep and make the pillow
wet.

How stupid could a man be?

She didn’t have a toothbrush—and
Scott, blinded by his delirium, hadn’t remarked upon it.