Chapter 7

Eastward
Financial District Fort Wayne, Indiana

Just like Danny had explained, the drive-through

at the bank opened at eight in the morning and zR3000 was there waiting at the window on his motorbike, occasionally revving the throttle to let the Bankers inside know that he was a busy robot had business to attend to. The bank people all knew a little about the trouble down in Indianapolis but that was like 70 miles away. It really didnt concern them. So they opened up like regular.

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At 8:05 one of the dudes inside came to the window to see an agitated robot sitting on a really sweet motorbike Can I help you? the banker kid asked begrudgingly into the microphone. Derek. zR3000 said coldly. What, Eric the banker said just as coldly back. Derek. Eric. zR3000 scanned the bankers face: beep beep beep. You are not the one I seek. Eric the banker turned around slowly in his chair as if it was the most horrible inconvenience in the world. E, he called out. One of the other bankguys looked up. This robot dude is looking for someone named Derek, do you know him? The other Eric came over to the window and looked out at the robot, no. Ive never seen him before. zR3000 scanned Eric 2s face for a few beeps. Negative, the robot said. E turned around, Barnsy. Come check this guy out. Eric Barnes came over to check out the robot guy. On this third failure, zR3000 got mad and squared his shoulders to the window. Whats he doing? Eric asked laughing. The robot looked stupid. He looks like hes got something up his butt, the other Eric said, also laughing. I know, right? What a goofy looking dude. They could hear something happening inside the robot. It sounded like someone had shoved a dollar into it and a can of soda was rolling down the track into the dispensment chamber. What a goofball. 51

zR3000 spit something out of his mouth. It crashed through the bulletproof Plexiglas and dropped onto the bank floor right behind the boys. What is that? Is that a grenade? asked Eric. It doesnt look like a grenade. Right, but if hes from like outer space or something they probably would have like different looking grenades POW! said the grenade enthusiastically as it exploded, dismembering the three Erics and opening their chest cavities with very little precision and burning a lot of their skin right off.

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Some doomy music maybe started to play and zR3000 marched through the new door into the bank and stopped at the first computer terminal. He stuck his finger in one of the holes. His eyes began to flicker as he downloaded all the information in the bank. All the records of all the customers, and not just the Fort Wayne branch, but all the customers in the entire system. There were 114 Dereks. He started with the most valuable one. The one with the highest balance. There was a photo of him from his drivers license. Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep! the robot said in conclusion. It was him. The hunter had found his prey. He had found Derek!

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They were back on the road, with Chicago behind them and New England ahead, and they were driving fast, and they werent looking back. They had a job to do and they were gonna do it god damn it! The gang talked now and again, and eventually learned a little about eachother So what do you do, Delilah? Veronica asked the other girl. For work? Yeah or like whatever. I work at Industrial Parts Incorporated. Oh really? My brother used to drive a truck for them. Really! I used to be in charge of shipping. Whats his name? Billy. Do you know him? No. But I only did that for a little while, now Im in receiving. Oh, they were both a little disappointed to lose this connection. What do you do? Delilah asked back politely. Im a waitress at Barneys

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The floating restaurant? Delilah asked. Albert snickered a little. Yeah. Ive been there for a few years. Jasons the chef. Albert thought this was funny too, the idea that the guy who grills burgers and throws Caesar salads together on a docked barge could be called a chef. Do you ever get seasick? asked Delilah. Not really. Its a pretty big floating restaurant. Ive never been there. You should come some time, if we ever make it home. There was a pause and Veronica turned to Albert, and tried to include him she wasnt at all interested but to be nice. What do you do? Veronica asked. Im an artist, he said matter-o-factly. Delilah snorted loudly and unattractively. Albert looked at her. Sorry, she said, it was just the way you said it. I dont know. It sounded funny. Sorry. But she wasnt really sorry, she was actually really pissed at herself for wanting to do it with Albert. Gross. Veronica was waiting for further explanation. An artist? What the frigg is an artist? Like Janet Jackson? Albert continued, My primary medium is Photography. Intense stuff about society and civilization. Veronica and even Jason nodded with polite interest. But Delilah snorted again, less disgustingly, but still very unattractive. He dresses animals up in clothes and takes pictures of them, she explained. Oh cool. Like for calendars and everything? My mom loves that sort of stuff. Veronica said. Albert didnt want to get into it. Not really, he said. Its more editorial than that. I might do a piece about hunger and costume a cat in some shabby pants 55

and a stained overcoat. You know, its all about the details. The cat was wearing mittens too, really shabby mittens with holes in them, mittens that you or I would have thrown out ages ago. Derek snorted at this, but he was in the drivers seat and nobody heard him. I just did some work about consumerism, and Ive done some really serious stuff about aids. So its like art pictures? asked Jason. Right, Delilah said, not wanting to endure the conversation anymore.

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