55 THE ATTACK

CHAPTER 55 THE ATTACK Wide mountain meadows made the robot nervous. While hiking through them, she felt exposed and easy to spot. Camouflage helped, but it was hard not to notice a walking clump of wildflowers. Especially one accompanied by a goose. And it was in one of those wide meadows that trouble caught up with our friends. From the corner of her eye, Roz sensed movement. She turned but saw only tall grass blowing in the breeze. Then a twig snapped, but the sound was swallowed by a distant roll of thunder. It wasn't until the wind changed and a musky scent wafted by that the robot understood the danger. "I smell wolves," whispered Roz. Brightbill's eyes grew big and round, and he whispered back, "What should we do?" Before Roz could reply, two wolves leaped out from the brush. They charged toward the robot,

snarling and snapping their jaws. Roz heaved her son toward the sky so that he could fly to safety, and then she burst into a sprint. The robot zigged and zagged across the meadow, trying to shake off the wolves. But when she dashed through a patch of soft ground, she slipped and toppled into the grass. The wolves quickly surrounded their prey, heads low, ears drawn back, deep growls rumbling through their teeth. "Remember us, Roz?" said the huge male with the scar. "Hello again, Shadow," said the robot, slowly getting to her feet. "And I believe your name is Barb." "You have a good memory," said the female wolf. "Actually, I have a perfect memory," said the robot. "And yet you've forgotten your rifle." A toothy smile appeared on Shadow's face. "You aren't so tough without your rifle, are you?" Barb sniffed the breeze. "Where's your pet goose?" And then she saw Brightbill perched in a lone tree in the middle of the meadow. "He is not my pet," said Roz. "He is my son." Shadow chuckled. "We've heard the stories about

the robot mother and her son, the goose. They're very touching." He turned and barked, "Join us, Brightbill! We'd love to meet you up close!" "Stay where you are, son!" hollered Roz. "I will take care of them!" "You'll take care of us?" growled Shadow. "No, Barb and I will take care of you." The robot's computer brain hummed as it tried to make a plan. The wolves were stalking toward her—any second now they would attack! Roz had to do something, anything, so she stalled. "Shadow, Barb, is it just the two of you?" Roz scanned the meadow and saw no other wolves. "Where is the rest of your pack?" Well, that was the wrong question to ask, because the fur on Shadow's back stood up and he snarled, "This is my pack now!" Then the wolves pounced. But Roz wasn't there. With all the strength in her legs, the robot launched herself up and away, and now she was soaring through the air in a long, graceful arc. Once her feet stomped back to the ground, she launched herself up and away again. With giant, arcing strides, the robot bounded across the meadow in the direction of her son.

At first, the wolves were baffled by the robot's strange escape. But they were expert hunters. They raced after her, studying her closely, watching where she landed. And when Roz made her final leap toward Brightbill's tree, a heavy paw knocked her off balance. She tumbled through the air and slammed against the trunk. Leaves shook loose, dead branches crashed down, but the robot held tight to the tree. "Are you okay, Ma?" said the goose as he fluttered to his mother's side. "Just some light scrapes," said the robot, and she pulled herself onto a sturdy branch. Below the tree, the wolves were howling with laughter. "Nice try, Roz!" said Shadow. "But you can't outrun us. Wolves are built for chasing!"

"You are wasting your time," said the robot. "You cannot eat me, and you will never catch my son." "You still don't get it, Roz," growled the wolf. "I'm not hunting you for food. I'm hunting you for revenge."