A Wizard Alone

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Nita called, more loudly this time. There was no question of speaking to the robot more conversationally: Its head was at least fifty feet above the ground. This is like having a conversation with a flagpole

, Nita thought.

The robot took a clunky step toward her, then another, then suddenly hunkered down in front of her with a great groan and screech of complaining, over-stressed metal. Nita thought at first that it might fall over, it looked so unsteady, and it wobbled and leaned from left to right to left again. It was intent on her, though again Nita couldn’t be sure how she knew that: The metal face was blank, and it had no way to change its expression even if one had been there.

“So what is it?” Nita said. “Give me a clue!”

It loomed over her, possibly considering what to say. As machine intelligences went, the robot already seemed pretty reticent: Nita’s limited experience with mechanical life-forms suggested that they were big talkers, but this one didn’t seem to be so inclined. It just leaned over her, the size of a small apartment building, and a tongue-tied one at that.

“Oh, wait a minute, now I know what it is,” Nita said. “You want to talk to my sister, right? I’m really sorry, but she’s asleep right now.”

No response from the shining form. “Asleep?” Nita said. “Temporarily nonfunctional? Offline?”

The robot suddenly began emitting what Nita thought at first were more metal-stress sounds, but after she got past how deafening they were, she found she could catch the occasional word through them, and the words were in the Speech. Oh good, Nita thought, for there were quite a few alien species scattered throughout the Local Group of galaxies who knew the Speech, using it as a convenient common tongue.

“[Grind, groan, screech] difficulty [screech-moan-crash] entropy [moan, moan, clunk-crash] communications,” the robot said. And then said nothing more, but just wobbled back and forth amid a whine of gyros, trying to keep its balance.

Nita was getting confused. Why can’t I understand it? “Uh, okay,” she said in the Speech, “I think I got a little of that. Something’s interfering with your communications. What exactly did you want to communicate about? Do you have some other kind of problem that needs to be solved?”

The robot just crouched there, wobbling, for several moments. Then it said, “Solve [scream- ofmetal, grind, ratchet] problem [moan, moan, much higher moan, crash] cyclic-insoluble [grind, grind] time [extremely long-duration whirly-noisemaker sound, crash, clunk] no solution [screeeeeeech, crash crash crash] trap [boom].”

Nita revised her original opinion about having conversations with flagpoles. This was more like a dialogue with a garbage truck, that being the only other thing in her immediate experience that sounded anything like this. “I’m really sorry,” she said, “but I’m having a lot of trouble understanding you. It’s my fault, probably. Can you tell me more clearly how I can help you? Just what is it that you need?”

The huge shape crouched there for a few more moments, then, wobbling, it got up. For a long, long moment it stood over her, seeming to gaze down at her from that great height… but Nita still couldn’t be sure. Then the robot turned, and slowly and clumsily went clanking off into the darkness, out of the spotlight where it and Nita had been standing.

Nita broke out in a sudden sweat, feeling that she’d missed something important. “Look,” she called after it hurriedly, feeling incredibly inadequate and useless, “I really am sorry I can’t help you! If you come back later, when my sister’s awake, she should be able to figure out what it is you need. Please, come back later!”

But it was gone. — and Nita found herself staring at the dark ceiling of her bedroom. The sun wasn’t yet up outside, and she was still sweating, and feeling stupid, and wondering what on Earth to make of the experience she’d just had.

At least it wasn’t a nightmare, like that other one

, she thought.

But on second thought, considering how spectacularly dumb she felt right now, Nita wasn’t so sure…

There was no chance of getting back to sleep, so Nita showered and got dressed for school, ate a cereal bowl’s worth of breakfast that she didn’t really feel like eating, and then dawdled over a cup of tea until it was time to wake her dad. This was an addition to Nita’s morning routine that she heartily wished she didn’t have to deal with, but her father really needed her to do it. Recently he’d been turning off his alarm clock and going back to sleep without even being aware of having done so.

She knocked at the bedroom door. “Daddy?”

No answer.

“Daddy… it’s six-thirty.”

After a few seconds came the sound Nita had been bracing herself for, the sound she didn’t think her dad knew he made: a low, miserable moan, which spoke entirely too clearly of how he felt, deep down inside, all the time now. But this was the only time of day that sound got out, before he was completely awake. Nita controlled herself as strictly as she could, absolutely intent on not making things any worse for him by sounding miserable herself.

“Do you want me to make some coffee?” Nita said.

“Uh,” her dad said. “Yes, sweetheart. Thanks.”

Nita went down to the kitchen and did that. She had mixed feelings about making her dad’s coffee: That had always been what her mother did, first thing. Nita also wasn’t sure if she was making it strong enough — her mom had always joked that her dad didn’t want any coffee that didn’t actually start to dissolve the cup. Nita, being new at this, was still experimenting with slight changes to the package directions, a little more each morning, and secretly dreading the day when she would get it right, and it would most forcibly remind her dad of who had not made it.

She started the coffee machine and went quietly back up to her room. By then her dad was already in the shower. Nita sat down at her desk, picked up her book bag from beside it, and shoved in the textbooks she’d be needing today. She had a chemistry test that afternoon, so she picked up the relevant book from beside her bed and started reading.

It was hard to concentrate, even in the early morning stillness. In fact, it was hard to concentrate most times, but this was something that Nita had been pushing her way through by dint of sheer stubbornness. The rest of her life might be going to pieces, but at least her grades were still okay, and she was going to keep them that way. What Nita missed, though, was the sheer effortless enjoyment she had always gotten from science before. This stuff was harder than the science she’d loved as a kid. That by itself isn’t so much of a problem. I’m learning it. Though I’m not used to having to work at it

But the shadow of pain that hung over everything was also interfering… and about that, there wasn’t anything she could do.

“Sweetie?”

Nita looked up. Her dad was standing in her bedroom doorway, looking at her with some concern. “Sorry, Dad, I didn’t hear you.”

He came over and gave her a hug and a kiss. “I didn’t mean to distract you. I just wanted to make sure you’ll see that Dairine gets out.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t let her sweet-talk you.”

Nita raised her eyebrows at the unlikeliness of this. “I won’t.”

“Okay. See you later.”

He went out. Nita heard the back door lock shut behind him, heard the car start. She glanced out the window into the gray, early morning light, and saw the car backing out of the driveway, turning in the street, vanishing from sight. The engine noise faded down the street.

Nita sat there and thought of her dad’s still, pale face as he spoke to her. Sad all the time; he was so sad. Nita longed to see him looking some other way… yet for so long now she’d routinely felt sad herself, because she could understand his problem. It’s only been a month, she thought, and already I can’t remember what it’s like not to be sad.