Julius Rosenthal will make candy no more and other short stories, Nicholas Russell [android pdf ebook reader TXT] 📗

Putting his fork down Jack stood and cleared his throat. He wanted to explain the human need to be unique, but could not find the words. Jack came to a decision and answered a question he had been asking himself all of his adult life all in the same moment. He left the room without a word but with his back straight and his steps firm. The droid was a step behind jack and peppered him with questions at every step. Jack ignored them all. He stopped by his office just long enough to grab a small waste basket, dumping its contents onto the floor. Stepping into the bedroom Jack set the trash can down in the center of the room. Jack had dumped the papers from the basket but not the plastic liner, which spilled over the edge. He pushed the liner into the basket and stomped it down with his foot.

Looking first at the wastebasket and then the room as a whole Jack felt a sense of purpose, it was a feeling he had long forgotten. “I need something flammable.”

“We do not have a fireplace.”

Jack looked to the droid and smiled. It was the first honest smile he had ever shown her, though the droid could not tell the difference. “Just get me some oil.”

As the droid left Jack started to go through his closet. Buried in the back was his constables dress uniform. It was bright white and for that reason Jack had kept it sealed in plastic. It had not been pulled out in years. As he looked at the uniform on his last day Jack felt it summed up most of his career. It looked good from afar. It wasn’t till you got closer that you could see its imperfections. The fabric was a polymer blend that no matter how it was cared for never felt comfortable against the skin. There were a few medals on the right breast. Almost all had been issued to every graduate of the academy.

Jack ripped the plastic covering from the uniform and tossed it onto the floor. He was distracted as he took the jacket from the hanger and did not hear the small robot roll out of his closet. The robot stopped before the trash can and gave it a quick scan. With the trash cans placement added to its internal map the robot continued on to the uniforms plastic covering. It picked the item up and deposited it into its basket before returning to the closet.

The jacket was balled up and the first to go into the waste basket. Jack hadn’t bothered to remove the medals, choosing instead to wrap the jacket around them. The pants came next and Jack was then left waiting for the droids return. It took a few minutes for her to return with the oil. It was a sixty percent recycled blend but Jack was sure it would still burn bright. He began to slowly pour the bottle into the basket. The bottle was about half empty when Jack grew impatient and held the bottle upside down. Once the bottle was empty Jack dropped it into the basket as well. He turned to the droid with another request “Matches.”

The droid was confused by the request but her programming kicked in and she quietly left the room once again. With the droid gone Jack went to his dresser opening the top drawer. Buried in the back was an antique projectile pistol. It wasn’t the same model that his father had used but it was quite close. To be allowed to keep an older gun, you were required to have it upgraded with a DNA logger. Jack had kept this one hidden and never upgraded. Holding it in his hands now Jack wished he had gotten it upgraded. Jack removed the magazine careful to leave clear fingerprints for the forensics team when they searched it later. He gently slid the magazine in place and chambered a round.

“Why do you have a firearm? A firearm in the home increases the likelihood of a violent death by eighty-three percent.” Despite her voiced concern for his safety the droid presented jack with a book of matches.

“You know those are just made up statistics.” The droid looked at Jack and tilted her head to the side slightly as she smiled. “I need you to leave, and I mean leave not just the house but the city.”

Jack set the pistol on his bed as he tore a paper match from the book. Striking the match Jack didn’t watch it but the small fire detector in the center of the ceiling. A red light began to blink slow and steady. Jack tossed the match into the trash can, but kept his eyes on the red light. The oil soaked uniform burst into flames with a whoosh, but Jack never let his gaze waver from the detector on his ceiling. As flames from the trash can grew higher, the light began to blink rapidly. The hotter the room grew the more quickly the light blinked. Jack stepped around the droid and started for the rooms main control panel.

Not waiting for the fire alarm to trigger the system Jack tapped the screen bringing it to life. The top half of the screen was a box, rapidly flipping between red and white. Emergency was written inside the box alternating colors with the surrounding box. Just below the box was a numeric keypad. Jack keyed in the override code silencing a vocal alarm before it even started. The flashing stopped and the keypad faded.

A face appeared on the screen and just like all official messages only the mouth moved. “A fire has been registered in your residence. Your buildings superintendent…”

“Jay Forrester.” The voice was a recording of Jay so the artificial face did not move.

As soon as Jay’s recording was complete the face began speaking again. “will have twenty-four hours to turn