Farmboy - The Novel is a Dream Machine Site The Dream Machine --- The Imagination of the World Wide Web

He used to keep the radio on softly by his bed as he fell to sleep. At first it was just because, like all teenagers, he wanted to keep up with the latest pop hits. But then he discovered that the fact that the radio was playing both when he fell asleep and when he awoke, made his dreams continue, like a movie serial, from one day to the next. That is, when he fell asleep, he would immediately return more or less to the point he had left off in the dream the morning before. Often the dreams would diverge quite rapidly from the one of the night before, but it would always start out the same. This discovery pleased Michael no end. It made him feel that he was living two lives. One was his relatively boring waking life in high school, while the other had all the excitement and variation that only dreams can deliver.

After reminiscing for a while, Michael finally got up, did his chores and ate breakfast. After eating, he decided he wouldn't try to plan the day. Maybe he would end up doing something worthwhile and productive. However, the events of the last week made him feel like he deserved...maybe even required...some slack time to just take it easy. So, he decided to take a walk around the farm.

The farm wasn't very large, but 90 acres is enough room to conceal quite a few hidden places. This was true especially because ordinarily Michael stayed on that part of the farm he was working. On the hillier sections grew trees and shrubs that sheltered all manner of critters and plants. Every so often, he liked to go exploring, just to see what he could find. Sometimes he would see a scurrying gopher or mole. Other times, his wanderings would disclose fabulously beautiful flowers. City folk called them weeds, but it was hard to think of a brilliant purple cluster of delicate blossoms, hidden behind a bush, as anything but treasure. Occasionally he would be rewarded by a deer staring at him with big brown eyes before it bounded away.

This day Michael found himself wandering rather aimlessly. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was heading for some kind of a showdown. The dream kept returning to his mind. Today, he just couldn't keep his thoughts focused on the hunt for Nature's bounty.

"Maybe," it occurred to him, "everybody is feeling this way these days." The events of the past week surely made such feelings appropriate.

Suddenly, all these daydreams came to a halt. As he started down one of the steeper hillocks toward the rear of the farm he was confronted with a truly remarkable vision. Standing in front of him, looking right at him, was a man dressed in what appeared to be formal dress.

At least, he thought it was a man. Something about the figure was subtly wrong. At first, Michael couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly was out of place. Then he began to notice little oddities. The man's hair was entirely too even colored and neat. Sort of like it had been greased down, but it wasn't shiny. His skin as well was very evenly colored, more like a cloth covering than skin. His eyes, which were riveted on Michael, were very steady. Too steady, like a gunslinger in a Western movie.

What Michael had first seen to be formal suit, was actually an ultramodern suit. He was also wearing a tie, but the tie had a strange shape. Not quite straight and not quite triangular. And it had a pattern unlike anything Michael had never seen before. The clothing seemed quite stylish for the city, say, but given the setting, on a farm hillside surrounded by weeds, it could only be described as a costume. Nobody dressed like that in this area. Ever.

Michael didn't know quite what to do or say. He thought of saying "Howdy", but decided that would be too cornball. Before he could make up his mind, the stranger took the decision out of his hands.

"I am your companion." he said in a well modulated voice, very clearly, with no discernable accent.

"What?" answered Michael, not quite believing his ears. He was almost certain he had heard correctly, but what in hell did that mean?

"I am your companion." repeated the stranger. "I have come from the stars. You and I are going to attempt to rescue your planet. Do not be alarmed. I will not harm you."

"What?" said Michael once again. The words were being heard, but they just wouldn't scan right. "What?"

The man, if that's what he was, didn't make any attempt to approach Michael as he spoke. He simply said what he had to say with devilish clarity. He stood there, unblinking, apparently just waiting for Michael to respond with something other than another "What?".

Finally, Michael pulled himself together. His mouth was hanging open idiotically. When spit started to run over his lips, he closed it self consciously. Then he tried to say something, thought better of it and closed his mouth hard again. Finally, he said slowly and carefully, "Please repeat what you just said to me."

The stranger repeated what he had just said. Exactly. Word for word. Just like a recording except his lips moved again as he spoke.

"You are my companion and you have come from the stars so that you and I can save the world. Did I get that right?" asked Michael.

"That is not verbatim, but it is essentially correct." said the stranger.

"Who or what the hell are you?" asked Michael.

"I am what you would call a robot."

"You don't look like a robot." Michael said. He immediately felt foolish for having said this, but his thoughts were beginning to spin out. Was this the person...thing...he was seeking in his dreams? Did this creature come on the flying saucer of the day before. It was all so damned plausible and yet completely incredible. Was he still dreaming?

"I am quite a bit more advanced than any robot you have ever encountered." answered the companion quite reasonably. All this time, neither Michael nor the creature moved a muscle...or whatever it used for locomotion. Michael because he couldn't, the stranger for who-knows-what reason.

"Let us move to some location more enclosed.", the robot-creature continued. "There are a group of your fellow beings looking for me and they are not far away."

"How do you know that?"

"I can hear them and...feel them." The last words seemed to come out hesitantly, as if they weren't quite right.

"Of course he can 'feel' them", thought Michael a little crazily, "I have run across a galactic Clark Kent and he is using his x-ray vision to track the humans hounds on his trail. Why doesn't he just use his super powers get rid of them?" This last question made Michael more than a little uneasy. The thought that this thing really could have some kind of super powers had occurred to him. Aloud, he said, "Let's move on back to the house." He half turned and beckoned for the robot to follow him. He was beginning to tentatively accept the thing at face value.

Together they moved rapidly across the fields and back to the house. Michael wanted to get inside as soon as possible, because he knew anybody or anything dressed like the stranger would draw one shit-load of attention.

On the way there, the robot moved closer to him. Michael could see that his first impressions had been correct. The creature's skin was perfectly smooth and even toned. It was almost, but not quite, the color of a Caucasian human being. Similarly, the hair did not look quite real. More like a very good wig. And the clothes were very strange indeed. What had looked like a suit had no buttons or any other kind of visible fastener. Yet it held together and flowed smoothly as the robot "walked" to the house with him. The tie looked like one of those clip-ons, but, again, not quite. Everything about this creature was just a little bit strange. The overall impression was more like a Ken doll...of the Barbie and Ken dolls...than anything else Michael could think of.

The motions as it walked...Michael had already transposed its sex from "he" to "it"...were smooth but not quite human. As they moved across the fields, Michael was having an easier and easier time believing what he was seeing and hearing a creature "from the stars".

By the time they entered the house, the full impact of what was happening hit him. A creature, a robot from the stars was here, on his farm and was talking about saving the goddamned world! As soon as they were through the door, Michael began to burst with questions.

"Did you come on the flying saucer, the meteorite or whatever it is that everybody saw yesterday? Do you know who I am and did you really come to see me? How are we going to save the world? What did you mean you are my companion?"

"Yes. You are Michael Malinoski. Yes. I will explain in detail later how we will save your planet. To do so, I must stay with you and assist you and thus I am and will remain your companion." answered the robot. It took Michael a moment to realize that it had answered all of his questions in a strict logical sequence.

"Well, I am not a robot. You have to speak to me...more... normally." suggested Michael, choosing his words with care.

"I am speaking perfectly clearly, am I not?"

"Yes, I guess you are. What if I don't agree to this plan of yours?"

"You will agree." The creature said this with such certainty that Michael was absolutely sure it was true. At least, he saw no future in arguing with a creature from the stars!

There was so much he wanted to know that Michael didn't know where to begin. He settled on asking if the stranger had a name.

"I have no name in the sense that you name yourselves, but you can call me 'Companion'. This is the closest equivalent in your language to my designation on my source planet."

"That's a little awkward. Do you mind if I give you a name?"

"You wish to give me an arbitrary designation to which I will respond when it is uttered by you?"

"Yeah, that's about it." said Michael, chuckling at the creature's verbal compositions.

"As you please."

"Then, from now on, you are 'Bozo'." said Michael with a broad smile. Something about naming this thing after a clown took some of the sting out of talking to a machine. Not that Michael had never talked to machines before. It was just that they never responded like they were equals!

"'Bozo' is just fine." said the robot without expression.

The two of then sat and talked for many hours. Michael asked question after question. Each one was answered patiently by Bozo, although he seldom had time to finish one statement before Michael had asked yet another question. Gradually, a picture emerged.

Bozo had come from a star system that was about 300 light years away. Michael was no expert in astronomy but he knew that this was relatively close by in astronomical terms. The meteor of the previous evening had in fact been its spacecraft. After landing, the spacecraft had been hidden at the bottom of a deep nearby lake. Bozo was certain that it would not be discovered.

The creatures or other robots of Bozo's "source" planet...Michael couldn't quite determine what exactly they were...had somehow determined that the Earth was about to self destruct. Rather, the human race was about to destroy it. We had been observed from off-planet robot spies which monitored human activity. They had been doing so for quite some time, but Michael was not to find out until later just exactly how long.

In fact, many details were passed over in the first rush to find out what was happening. Bozo stated that Michael had been chosen because of his profession as a computer expert and because he was solitary. He had been chosen to "assist in saving the planet". Presumedly, Bozo was somehow going to provide the expertise. Michael had long since given up hope of ever finding the Holy Grail that would somehow save the human race from itself. Bozo did mention that population pressure and environmental destruction were the main problems, with the possibility of global warfare a close competitor. This, of course, was news to almost no one in the early twenty first century, certainly not to Michael. Again, the details were to be revealed later.

Bozo was a robot only in a very broad sense of the term. When Michael asked if he could see his circuits, Bozo first acted like he didn't know what Michael meant. Finally, Bozo explained that he didn't have circuits in the sense of Earthly computers. In fact, his component parts were tiny even when compared to the sub-cellular structures of living things. The strongest electron microscopes on Earth would not begin to reveal the atomic structure of Bozo. No, Michael could definitely not see Bozo's circuits.

Nor did touching Bozo reveal anything. His temperature seemed about right. His outer covering was quite smooth, but did not feel like plastic. Except for its incredibly even coloring, it could have been the skin of a living creature. Bozo's muscles, if that is what they were, were hard, but not so hard as to suggest metal or ceramics. Again, it could have been the tissue of a living being.

"Are you alive?", asked Michael, at one point.

"Not the way you usually use that term." answered Bozo.

This answer was not at all satisfying given the fact that Michael was sitting there conversing with Bozo at a very high level. But it was all he could get out of it-him. Michael was oscillating between thinking of Bozo as an it and as a he.

And so it went, long into the night.

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