What about dead people?

"That's correct." Machina pulled out a notepad and a pen from one of his puffed box chests. "I am going to write in this little thing you humans always carry around to school." Then she started scanning it, much like Silver Head had done. "There you are, and there we go." She wrote a check mark next to Tom's name, then put the pencil and the pad back into her puffed box chest. When she pulled out her hand, this time she was holding a yellow envelope. "I believe you've been expecting this."

       "The fourth clue?"

       "You got it."

She handed the envelope to Tom, who immediately ripped it open and pulled out a plain paper containing the next message from M.S. Before he could read it, Machina placed her rigid finger on top of the clue.

"Remember what I said about dead people, young man."

"What exactly did you say?"

  "Well, nothing really, now that you mention it. I wasn't supposed to say much, anyhow. It's left for you to figure out." 

"You have really cleared things up for me, Machina. Thank you."

The little blue eyes of the robot narrowed. "Do I sense a hint of sarcasm?"

Tom laughed. "Not just a hint." He pulled the message out from under Machina's large finger. "May I please read this now?"

Machina waved a hand. "Read to your heart's delight."

Squinting to see in the patchy moonlight, Tom did just that.

The location is up to you, and it could be your hometown. I only ask that the name of the place begin with a letter coming after A and before Z but nowhere in between. You are allowed to have people around you, as many as you like, as long as they're dead by the time you say the word related to Open Sesame. But, by the teleporter, make sure you're not dead, of course.

That would truly throw a wrinkle in our plans.

Tom looked over at Machina. "I can bring people with me, as long as they're dead before I say the word related to open sesame. That doesn't make any sense."

The tall robot smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "Hey, I didn't write the clues."

  "And how can a letter come after A, before Z, but nowhere in between? Wouldn't that exclude all twenty-six letters?"

"Who am I, Detective Bruce Wayne? You figure it out, kid?"

She rubbed the fluffy pillow and dropped the empty can of grease oil.

     "Detective who? Bruce Wayne is Batman, a super hero."

Machina gave him a blank stare. "No, I mean Detective Bruce Wayne, the greatest detective who has ever lived."

Tom didn't know what to think of that answer. "So you're going to tell me anything worthwhile or not?"

"I'm inclined to say no."

"Boy, you and Silver Head sure are a lot of help. Why didn't M.S. just send me the letter through the mail like he did with the other stuff?" Tom shivered again, and realized the warm clothes and tightening himself wasn't enough to block out the chilly cold.

"Nice to meet you, too." Machina looked down at the ground. "I guess you didn't want me to come, did you?"

"Hey, I was just kidding." Tom tried to keep from laughing as he reached out and patted the robot's arm. Maybe he was kind of embarrassed because of the size difference, but Tom felt like he was consoling a big baby bot that might have shot out of space to earth. "I'm glad we met. I've always wanted to see something different, and here you are. The Real Making of Science Fiction. I just wish you could tell me more about what's going on."

  "Trust me, I am dying to tell you everything, but that would defeat the whole point, now wouldn't it?"

Tom threw his hands up in frustration. "What's the point?"

Machina grew serious. "I think you know, Tom. You've made the choice to pursue this endeavor, and no matter what, you must see it to the end. By the very act of making it to the special day and solving the riddles of what will happen at that time, you will be properly prepared for..." She paused, turning her head to the ground and her arms resting on her knee.

   "For What?"

"I can't tell you."

"What a surprise." Tom wanted to be angry, but instead felt torn between disappointment and eagerness to solve everything once and for all. He'd always been that way; he wanted to know things right then and now, which was probably one reason why he'd done so well in school. He often read ahead in his books, curiosity lighting the fire of impatience, which only added to his status as the Brain-freak Boy of the Universe.

"I will say this," Machina said. "I truly hope you make it, Tom. I want to see you when it all comes down to the boiling point." She turned her squat, tall body and looked at Tom in the eye. "You will be there, I'm sure of it."

"I will try."

Machina grunted. "Try is for quitters with baby diapers. You will do it, young man. Do it."

"Who are you—Captain America?"

"Huh?"

"Nevermind."

Machina stood up with a loud groan coming from his metallic body. Returning to height, appearing to grow taller than before. "Well, I must be off to the wild blue yonder. It feels like I haven't eaten in three weeks." She patted her abdomen.

Tom was left wondering what sort of food robots eat. It was really challenging and confusing, and at the same time exciting. He fucking did see a tall war robot—though Machina might not be a war robot. She sounds nice and easy. Well, who's to judge anyway?

"Boy, I sure do enjoy a lovely meal now and then." She cleared her throat loudly, as if trying to give a hint. Another pun.

"Where are you from, anyway?" Tom asked, trying his best to avoid any subject that had to do with Machina's height.

"The Fifteenth?"

   "Things developed a little differently there? If you know what I mean."

"No, I don't know what you mean."

"Oh. Yes. Well, someday you will."

   Tom sighed. "What were those words you said earlier? System, teleporter, reality travel-something?"

Machina only raised her eyebrows in reply.

"Let me guess, you can't tell me."

"That's my boy, getting smarter by the minute."

"Whatever," Tom sighed. He looked up at the moon before directing his sight to the towering body of Machina.

"The fifteenth?"