Book 3: Chapter 10: Hunted
Bob
March 2224
Camelot
Deltans couldn’t whistle while they worked. Or any other time, really—otherwise I’d have been belting out a tune. This was the kind of day that would bring a celebration to the lips of any but the grumpiest. Up with the dawn, a breakfast of berries and eggs, a couple of hours warming ourselves in the morning sun… My android body didn’t require any of that, of course, but the neural interface was more than good enough to give me the same pleasurable experience as anyone else.
After a morning of indolence, I went hunting while Archimedes laid out his flintwork for the day. With a little luck, I hoped to bag the local equivalent of a turkey.
Archimedes and his family were more than generous, and had treated me like one of them right from the start. I wanted to give back whenever possible. A turkey or other small game once in a while was a welcome treat.
Marvin occasionally accused me of trying to deny reality and become Robert full-time. I didn’t argue with him—there was at least some truth to the accusation. I certainly felt far more a part of the Deltan life than I had back on Earth as Original Bob. Missing my family so much probably played into my effectively having gone native.
In the middle of my idle ruminations, my heads-up display flashed an alert. Movement in the immediate vicinity. I called up one of the many spy drones that kept my Camelot VR up to date, and redirected it to center on me.
At computer speeds, it took less than a second overall to realize that I wasn’t being stalked by wildlife.