The Wild Robot (The Wild Robot, #1)

by Peter Brown

Performing could be a survival strategy!

“Will you take the gosling?” “I most certainly will not!” squawked the goose. “I can’t take in every orphan I see! You say this is your fault? It seems to me that it’s up to you to make things right.” “Mama! Mama!” peeped the gosling. “I have tried to tell him that I am not his mother,” said the robot. “But he does not understand.” “Well, you’ll have to act like his mother if you want him to survive.” There was that word again—act. Very slowly, the robot was learning to act friendly. Maybe she could learn to act motherly as well.

Mrs. Beaver turned to her husband. “Remember how you asked me to point out when you’re being stubborn and rude?

No gosling ever had a more attentive mother. Roz was always there, ready to answer her son’s questions, or to play with him, or to rock him to sleep, or to whisk him away from danger. With a computer brain packed full of parenting advice, and the lessons she was learning on her own, the robot was actually becoming an excellent mother.

“Mama, the other goslings were making fun of me.” “What did they say?” “They called you a monster and then laughed at me for having a monster mother.”

Parents. The word suddenly left Brightbill feeling uneasy. “You’re not my real mother, are you?” “There are many kinds of mothers,” said the robot. “Some mothers spend their whole lives caring for their young. Some lay eggs and immediately abandon them. Some care for the offspring of other mothers. I have tried to act like your mother, but no, I am not your birth mother.” “Do you know what happened to my birth mother?” Roz told Brightbill about that fateful day in spring. About how the rocks had fallen and only one egg had survived. About how she’d put the egg in a nest and carried it away. About how she’d watched over the egg until a tiny gosling hatched. Brightbill listened carefully until she finished. “Should I stop calling you Mama?” said the gosling. “I will still act like your mother, no matter what you call me,” said the robot. “I think I’ll keep calling you Mama.” “I think I will keep calling you son.” “We’re a strange family,” said Brightbill, with a little smile. “But I kind of like it that way.” “Me too,” said Roz.

It must be hard to have a robot for a mother.

“You’ve got one!” he said. “I never noticed it before!” “Neither did I,” said the robot. The gosling giggled. “Oh, Mama, you have so much to learn about yourself.”

We will return you to the factory, where the Makers will refurbish you and sell you to a work site. You will then live on that work site indefinitely. Now come with us.” “But I live here,” said Roz. “That is incorrect. ROZZUM unit 7134, any further resistance will be proof of defectiveness, and we will deactivate you.” But Roz had more questions. “Who are the Makers? What is my purpose? Why can I not ask questions?” “This unit is defective,” said RECO 1 to his partners. “Commence deactivation.”

“That isn’t funny!” cried the goose. “My mother is broken and I don’t know what to do about it!” “I am sorry for joking.” Roz adjusted her voice to a more serious tone. “I know you want to fix me, but there is nothing anyone here can do.”