Dome Nine, Page 2

  Chapter 3

  10.13.2173.9:29PM

  On the way to school this morning, I told Luma that I'd decided not to go to the party. When she asked me why, I said it didn’t really interest me.

  She gave me a look. “Teo, you nincompoop, that’s not a reason! Just tell me!”

  I said, “I don’t want to damage your friendship with Rayleen over a party that means nothing to me. You keep forgetting I have no feelings to hurt.”

  “You keep forgetting you’ve told me that a thousand times! Even if you don’t have feelings, you can see that Rayleen is just being mean!”

  “Luma, you can’t expect your friends to do anything but ignore me.”

  Luma turned suddenly and grabbed my hands. “Teo, I know you, and you’re just as good as any of my friends! And a lot better than stupid old Rayleen or that dimwit Dogan! Get that through your head! And you’re going to the party, so get that through your head, too!”

  We walked the rest of the way in silence but I think she knew I appreciated her kindness.

  As it turned out, Luma never had to confront Rayleen. Our new teacher, Miss Green, started the day with an announcement that took everyone by surprise. She asked all the kids to hand in the party invitations they’d been given the day before.

  This caused a lot of excited whispering and Miss Green had to shush the class. Despite her youth and delicate features, she can be intimidating when she wishes. When the room was silent, she explained her policy on invitations: unless the entire class is invited to the party, no one is allowed to pass out invitations at school. Then she spelled it out to Rayleen: either invite everyone or send the invitations by mail.

  Rayleen started to whine. “But Miss Green, if I have to mail them no one will get them until next week!”

  Miss Green’s emerald eyes were cold. “The solution is obvious.”

  And that’s how I ended up getting an invitation.

  I’m not sure why Miss Green did what she did. She doesn’t act like any other 5th grade teacher I’ve ever had, and I’ve had 37. All the others have paid no more attention to me than they would have any other Menial.

  The reason for this is simple: by the time my father created me, it had become clear that no one wanted androids to be fully human or have equal intelligence. They wanted them just smart enough and human enough to replace actual workers without adding costs.

  At first glance, Menials look real, but their faces give them away. Aside from their uniforms, all Menials look exactly alike. More to the point, their faces are expressionless and their eyes stare vacantly. I have to admit that my own face shares some of these characteristics, particularly the lack of emotion.

  Miss Green, however, treats me as though I’m human. At this point, I have no explanation for her behavior.

  In any case, at recess, I was sitting on a bench over by the baseball diamonds and Dogan came up to me again, along with his playmates. He called me a DinkTron and told me that if I showed up at the party he would smash me to pieces. Then he tried to shove me backwards off the bench, but he couldn’t do it because I’m much heavier than I appear. So he threatened me again and then they all left. Thankfully, Luma didn’t see any of it.

  Like most bullies, Dogan is big for his age, but he doesn’t have a bully’s face. His natural expression is one of confusion. I can’t really blame him for the way he acts. 2 years, 41 days ago, his father was killed in the war.

  After school, I made a point of getting to work early so I could speak with Mr. Wu. I dropped off Luma and ran all the way to DynaLink, arriving at 2:49 PM.

  When I walked into Mr. Wu’s office, Mrs. Po, his burly secretary, looked up and said, “What do you want?”

  I said, “I’d like to speak with Mr. Wu, please.”

  She pushed a button and said, “Your Menial’s out here,” and went back to work. She wasn’t trying to be rude. She just considered politeness a waste of time.

  Mr. Wu, on the other hand, has always been polite to me, even as a young man. He’s grown heavier over the years and wears rimless spectacles now, but he still treats me with more respect than anyone else in Dome Nine, Luma excluded.

  He opened his office door and gave me a smile. “Hello, Teo, how nice to see you. Please come in.”

  After he showed me to a chair, he took a seat behind his desk. “How can I help you?”

  “I wanted to ask you if I could take the day off tomorrow.”

  He leaned back, pressing his fingertips together. “Of course you may. Might I ask why?”

  “I’ve been invited to a birthday party, after school.”

  He smiled again. “Is that so? I can’t recall the last time you received such an invitation.”

  “It was April 3rd, 2168.”

  “Yes, of course. And this party is in honor of whom?”

  “A classmate of mine named Rayleen Scott.”

  “A friend of yours?”

  “A classmate.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Are you implying that she’s not your friend?”

  “I don’t think she likes me at all.”

  “And do you like her?”

  “I have no feelings one way or the other.”

  Mr. Wu nodded and said nothing further. He just sat there staring at me.

  I stared back, waiting.

  Finally, he said, “You’d better hurry up and punch your timecard. I’d hate to break your winning streak.” He stood up and gestured toward the door. “It was wonderful to see you, Teo. I hope you have fun at the party.”

  For the rest of the day, I found my thoughts returning to the birthday party and to Dogan’s threat. Repetitive thoughts are usually the result of a feedback loop, but I haven’t been able to locate one. I’m going to run one more scan before shutdown.

  Entry complete.