“Maybe we just can’t think of doing anything else.”
“What does Erica think?”
“I don’t know. She’s eight.”
“What does that mean?”
Laughton wasn’t sure. Erica understood things he couldn’t comprehend. She was wise and kind, like her mother. “I guess Erica is why. It’s for her. To keep it all for her, so that she can make the decision herself, but my job, life, whatever, is to keep it all for her.”
Kir said, “Mine too.”
Laughton digested that, feeling how true it was. It made him think of his own parents. If Erica was his reason not only for living, but for even just trying to maintain the world as best he could, was that true for his parents too? “My father lost everyone in the plagues,” he said, “but then his politics are so important to him that he won’t come live with what’s left of his family on the preserve.”
“Maybe that’s his way of trying to save the world for you.”
“It’s pretty stupid.”
“How about ending up in a shoot-out?” Kir said.
“Fuck you,” Laughton said, but it made him consider what he was about to go do. If he ended up dead, how would that make the world better for Erica? “None of it will matter if I let this case shut down the preserve.” He looked at Kir, really looked at him with all of his acumen for reading faces, and the robot’s false features were suffused with concern. Tears stung Laughton’s eyes as he said, “I would absolutely want you to be there for Erica for her whole life. It… Yeah.”
“Yeah,” Kir said.
They had decided to walk so the truck didn’t give them away at the yacht club. They might have silent local approval from the club, but if someone other than James came by, saw the truck, and called the police, they’d be hard-pressed to present a legal explanation for commandeering a boat.
There were no lights on at the yacht club. It wasn’t the kind of place that had a restaurant, especially if its main clientele had been robots pre-preserve. Unlike at the police dock, the gate here was closed, and for a moment Laughton was afraid they’d have to break in, but when he checked, he found that it had been left unlocked. Whether that had been for them or was standard procedure, he didn’t know, but he thought the former. Either way, it made their lives easier.
“What are we looking for?” Laughton said. He realized he’d whispered even though there wasn’t anyone around.
“Something small with an engine,” Kir said.
“I don’t know anything about boating.”
“When we find the one we want, I’ll download instructions.”
“They’re not like cars. You need to actually steer them,” Laughton said.
Kir didn’t respond. That didn’t matter to a robot. The internet explained all, which meant that robots knew all, were all knowing.
There was a deck along the front of the clubhouse that wrapped around the side of the building, and most likely, to the boats. They clattered up the uneven wooden boards. Laughton’s toe got caught on one, and he almost fell, skipping with the momentum to remain on his feet.
“Careful,” Kir said. “You’re delicate.”
“Fuck you,” Laughton said.
It was too dark to see much more than outlines, but when they reached the back of the building, the paler sky made a clear divide across the water, separating the landscape from the heavens. There were six piers extending into the river, each with a pair of boats attached, mostly in the thirty-to-fifty-foot range, small yachts for a day’s pleasure cruise, but they too were nothing but outlines for the chief.
“What are they?” Laughton said, knowing his partner was seeing everything with the help of his night vision.
“Too big,” Kir said.
They were almost at the end of the dock. The slight sound of splashing water as the boats shifted the few inches their tethers allowed made him think of the time that Betty got him to go night kayaking. Erica ended up in his boat. She had leaned over constantly to look down at the water, which had thrown off the weight of the kayak. By the end, his back hurt so much, he could barely get out of the boat.
“There,” Kir said.
At the very end of the dock, three flat-bottomed canoes with outboard motors were tied rather haphazardly to one cleat.
“Do we have to worry about the noise?” Laughton said.
“No. This is perfect. You stay back near the motor, and the heat of the engine should help mask you on IR. Anyone looking will see a boat operated by a robot, and probably leave us alone.” Robots showed hot in one or two places depending on the cpu placement, while humans were hot all over.
Laughton didn’t think that sounded too likely. He imagined the Coast Guard would be stopping every boat they came across, but he didn’t see any way around it.
Kir was unwinding one of the ropes on the cleat. “Jump down and figure out which boat this goes to,” he said.
Laughton found a ladder of boards nailed directly to one of the dock’s supporting posts. He stepped into one of the boats. It immediately wanted to get away from him, and he had to pull it back toward the dock with his leg while still hanging on to the ladder. Once it was below him again, he stepped down fully into the boat. He squatted, trying to keep his weight low. The boat didn’t feel very steady to him, but what did he know? He pulled on the thick rope tied to the front of the boat. “Is this it?” he shouted.
“Pull more,” Kir said.
He pulled harder, but the rope felt stuck—it must be the wrong one—then it came loose so fast, he almost fell backward. There was the splash as the other end of rope hit the water, and as he pulled it into the boat, it was wet and heavy.
Kir climbed down the ladder and hopped in.
Laughton piled the rope at his feet. “Ready?”
Kir answered by simply going to the engine and turning it on. The boat vibrated and shook, but it steadied as he backed them slowly away from the dock, bumping into the neighboring boats slightly. They cleared the other boats, and Kir started to turn them around so they were facing away from the dock. The pitch of the motor rose, and they started moving, a light breeze causing the chief to shiver.
As they picked up speed, and the wind grew stronger, the chief had to actively push down the anxiety tightening in his chest from moving fast while blind. Kir can see, he reminded himself over and over. Kir can see. We’re not going to hit anything. The bow of the boat lifted out of the water, and a fine mist hit them every time the boat bounced on the river. The chief’s eyes watered against the wind. Instead of looking directly into it, and the blackness before them, he tried to watch the banks. On the mainland, outlines of palm trees were negative black space against the barely illuminated black sky. The squat dark boxes of buildings at times broke up the tree line. Across the way, the trees were denser, willows and oaks and other native species forming a wall.
Laughton put his hand in his pocket to double-check that the two magazines of electric-tipped bullets he had pulled from the truck’s lockbox were still there. The cartridges currently in his gun were standard bullets, but he wanted to be prepared if the people at the other end of this trip were metals. Kir had his built-in Tasers if needed.
They went under the Ravenel Bridge, and then there weren’t any recognizable landmarks that the chief could see in the dark. “Do you know where we’re going?” Laughton called.