I, Willhelm

The next few weeks were a blur for Robbie. First the police wanted to talk to him, then someone from the army who’s name he quickly forgot wanted to talk to him. Each talk took hours, sometimes days, the same questions asked over and over until Robbie’s throat was dry and raspy. Then journalists swooped in. Every time he talked about it the story it changed a little more, a little more fearful, a little more embellished. Even though the video evidence clearly showed the contrary, he found himself describing how the robot’s eyes went red when it spoke of war. He didn’t even realise he was doing it, an air of fear that surrounded the whole story gradually permeating his memory.

The robot had changed everything, but for everyone else, it changed nothing. The struggle for normally everyday people. Few people even paid attention to the robot’s offer, too jaded to even hope that just maybe there might be a glimmer of hope. Small minority did listen, and on a small island with a population of 68 million, that small percentage was enough to look like an army once they reached the dome. One week and two days later more soldiers were called in to manage the enormous crowds, some people had managed to climb the barriers and made it to the dome, but the dogs soon put a stop to how many people attempted this strategy.

Then the dam broke.

Nobody quite new exactly what happened and how the little girl had been run over by the truck. The footage from outside the dome showed the same thing just from different angled, hundreds of people packed and shuffling next to each other, the mud so thick it was like walking through wet cement. The girls father could be heard screaming for his daughter, another child on his shoulders.

“Amy! Amy! Baby, don’t move! Stay where you are! I’m coming sweetheart! I’m coming!”

Frustrated by the slow advance the drive of the truck pushed forward and felt the whole vehicle lift a little on the right hand side.

The little girl never made a sound, but her father did, screaming from the depths of his soul as he pulled her little body out of the mud behind the truck Everything had stopped for a moment. The driver horrified and everyone unsure what to do, several mobiles sharing the live footage. The father had kept wailing, rocking her in his arms, screaming for someone to help him. The little girl was breathing, despite her lower legs being bent in the wrong direction.

The father had looked at his daughter, then her legs and then up at the dome. He stood up and instructed the child on his shoulders to slide down onto his back.

“Hold on, don’t let go!”

The man ran towards the dome, screaming like a madman, his little girl clutched to his chest and his son clinging to his back for dear life. Unwilling to tackle the man with a broken child in his arms the soldiers resisted throwing their entire weight against him. Sensing an opportunity, the crowd surged forward and tore through the barriers like a human tsunami. One the barriers were broken there was no stopping it short of firing into the crowd, and none of the soldiers were willing to do that, resorting instead to detain the people too slow to keep up with the rush. While exact numbers were impossible to determine, it was estimated that over six thousand people made it to the dome that day, one of them being the father and his children. Most people to made it easily passed through the dome, but some — roughy two hundred and fifty individuals — were unable to get through dome which propelled them violently back each time they attempted to enter. One the initial rush subsided, the army moved in and arrested everyone who remained outside the dome.

At first there was no obvious pattern to their rejection, or at least nothing that seemed to differ from people known to have entered the dome.

For the first time in his life, Robbie was able to use his name to convince several of the rejects to speak exclusively to him. With the full weight of Lord Byron’s network behind him, it was quickly discovered why many of them had been rejected, many of them with records. At first Robbie was keen to interview them, but after a quick meeting with Lord Byron it was decided that the angle of the innocent rejects would help calm the public opinion around the dome. Finally six people were picked to be interviewed. Three women and three men. Robbie was surprised by how easy to talk to they all were. All of them either attractive or so charming that they quickly seemed attractive. Most of them were older, with children and grand children. Only two of the people interviewed were under fifty years old, most of them were alone, either because their spouse had passed away or because they claimed to have never found someone. As the interview progressed he asked them if they had any family he could interview, most of them changed the subject or sadly lamented that their family were not on the best of terms with them. Robbie listened for hours as they each talked for hours about themselves, their accomplishments and how bitterly disappointing people were. They also insisted that they had not meant to go into the dome, they had just been curious tourists who had been swept along with the crowd. Completely helpless.

Eventually Robbie was able to find one family member who would talk to him, siblings, a boy and a girl who’s mother Dani had tried to enter the dome. They both refused to see her during the interview, insisting that only he be the one to talk to them.

Robbie conducted the interview at their home in Langley. The flat they lived in had once been a house which later had been divided into two separate dwellings, naturally the rent had stayed just as high.

Both the siblings observed him cautiously, but still offered him a tea once he sat down at the table.

The son looked the most like his mother, beautiful, with a dark brown skin tone and thick curly black hair. He reminded Robbie of Michelangelo’s statue of David, just a with an intense air of anxiety about him. His sister was completely different, beautiful too, but her manner was strong and defensive. If she had ever been a statue, she would have been Artemis. She would constantly glance over at her brother as though she was preparing to throw herself between him and an unknown aggressor. Robby barely had to ask before the story of why they no longer spoke to their mother spilled out.

The sister — Hana — showed picture after picture from her phone of bruises, cuts and the state of the home they had once lived in. They had no physical copies of the pictures. When he asked why, Hana explained that a few times their mother had found that they were collecting evidence, and promptly burned them. The beating that followed convinced Hana that she needed to learn how to set bones. After that they had set up a private social media account where all of the pictures had been stored for the better part of half a decade. Despite the evidence they had gathered there had always been one weak point —the brother Karim. Every time a new court date approached Dani would suddenly give him the affection he craved, and every single time he would say whatever he thought the court needed to hear to leave them with their mother.

“You must have resented your brother for that a lot” Robbie said without thinking. Karim winced and shrank back into his chair.

“No, never!” Hana replied defensively, her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “I was lucky. I got my father’s stubborn temper minus the alcoholism. Karim never had a chance. If he’d been born into another family he would have been an artist, or a musician, but my mother knew how to take everything soft and gentle and twist it into a weapon. He was a child fighting a monster.”

“I take it you’re not surprised then that she couldn’t enter the dome.”

“I am, actually, quite surprised.”

“Really? Why?”

Hana shrugged. “I always assumed the dome was some kind of scam. It just sounds too good to be true. Oh, everyone weak and downtrodden, come here into this massive dome, we’ll be nice to you here, promise”. She mocked, and then began to laugh. “Maybe I should go there next, if it rejected mother then maybe they really are trying to make a good place.”

The interview from the siblings never made it into the final story. Instead, Dani’s face was chosen to be the thumbnail of the piece, her cool blond hair and makeup styled to make her appear mournful and sympathetic. Hana screamed as she saw her mother’s face looking mournful at her from the newspaper rack and furiously threw the paper open to read it.

Rejected for being a single mother.

I’ve always tried my best!

My children never realised how hard it was to be a window with two small children.

For the first time in a decade Hana burst into tears. That night when Karim returned from his job he found Hana sitting at the table, two packed bags next to her.

“I know this is going to sound insane”— Hana started but Karim stopped her before she could finish.

“Mum sent me a message today.”

“What?! How?!”

“I don’t know.” He looked down at his phone, the screen fractured so badly it was unusable. “I-I’m sorry, but I smashed it. I heard her talking to me and I smashed it. I’m sorry. I’m buy another one! Or I can just do without, it’s not important.” He stuttered, his eyes on the ground and his shoulders hunched.

“Karim” Hana stood up and hugged her brother. “Don’t be silly, I’m so, so proud of you! She’s never heard you tell her to eff off! That is amazing!”

“I just started screaming. I don’t know what I really said. I just started screaming and then I threw the phone on the floor.”

Hana burst out laughing, a small nervous smile on Karim’s face. “You legend! That’s fantastic! I would have loved to see her face when you did that! She must have looked like a slapped arse!”

Karim laughed and smiled, relieved at her reaction. “What are the bags for?”

“Oh, that. Right. Well…I’ve been thinking. Maybe that robot dome isn’t the worst idea.”

“You want to go to Willhelm?”

“It’s the Helm, not Willhelm, but anyway. Yes. I wanted to know what you thought about that?”

Karim paused as he tried to think. Even now he found it hard to think, always afraid that whatever he chose would somehow bring an invisible hand down on him. “We should try.” He finally whispered.

“Yea?”

“Yea! Let’s do it.”