That night Sadie settled down in Mrs Zimmerman’s spare room. A spare room. The bed was three times the size of her cot.

She set the Things on patrol with instructions to wake her if Mrs Z got up, then she sunk into the mattress and read the dementia book for a while. Apparently people with senile dementia needed more sleep. And staying in the present was less stressful than referencing the past. Well, that made sense. She put the book down.

“Dim lights.”

She could just make out a quiet padding as a Thing moved off its charger.

“Prrrt. Are you ready to sleep?” Thing 3’s voice asked in low tones.

“Mmmm Good night Sweet Thing.”

The light faded to dark as she drifted into sleep.

The Things moved about quietly until Mrs Z asked for light in her room.

“What are your orders?”

“Report when you get out of bed.”

“Okay then. I’m not out of bed am I?”

“Do you require assistance?”

“I do. But don’t wake her. Let her recharge.”

The things considered this.

Thing2: She is not out of bed.

Thing3: It is good and optimal for Sadie to recharge.

Thing4: Ask how we may assist.

Thing 3 went to get the head set and assisted Mrs Z to enter Graz whilst staying in her bed.

On Sunday morning George turned up with three packets of Occasional Sunday Brunch Nutrition just as Sadie was getting out of Mrs Z’s huge and luxurious shower. No water meter! She eyed the food and figured this family had credits to burn. He fiddled around and got the coffee contraption going.

“How was your night?” he asked and by that she assumed she meant Did my grandmother sleep or were you up trying to keep her quiet?

“No problems at all. I guess all that virtual time yesterday tired her out.”

Mrs Z was not a morning person apparently.

“I don’t know who you are but if you’re a burglar please steal my stuff more quietly!” the old lady groused when Sadie came in to tell her that George had arrived.

“I’m Sadie. I was here yesterday? We play games together sometimes.”

“Games? Oh yes, of course. Now I remember.”

But Sadie thought she might be winging it.

The Things clattered around the apartment, Sadie had discovered a mound of dirty laundry and they were occupied with sorting and cleaning. George watched them in amazement.

“You’re going to get some serious investment for those robots,” he said.

“Maybe not,” Sadie told him, “There’s a problem with the patents. My professor has been trying to get in touch with whoever donated them to our program. The software patent still has a couple of years to run until the code becomes open source. She had a lawyer check it all out when it looked like I had a viable improvement.”

“So, they might take all your IP?” He thought back to the code they’d looked at. Sadie had done a great job of building on what was there. He finished spreading his bagel and sipped from his coffee.

Sadie bit into her bagel and chomped thoughtfully before she replied.

“Until we can contact the patent owner and sort out the rights, nobody is going to want to invest. And apparently this inventor has disappeared. They’re just getting automated messages. The good news is that I can still pass the course, I just don’t have a product I can market right now.”

Mrs Z, up and dressed after initial resistance, sprinkled crumbs on the spotless floor so she could watch the Things clean up.

“It’s been so long since I had a cat,” she said. “When I was small I had a kitten called Billie. Or it might have been Millie?”

“Gran, take your meds. I need to go in to school today, and so does Sadie. There’s a people mover coming to drop you at the Centre for a visit.”

“You mean you’re sending me to daycare!” Mrs Z sniped. Then she smiled and looked at them both. “It’s fine, I don’t want to be a fifth wheel. You young people need to spend some time alone. I get it.”

“It’s not like that,” George protested, but he was thinking he’d love to see Sadie’s lab. He wondered how he might ask her. The People Mover signaled it was outside and he scrambled to get his grandmother out the door.

“I’ll get my handbag! Fetch me some proper biscuits. I’m not eating their Complete Nutrition.” She bustled the younger people about, seemingly boosted by her meds into sudden sociability. George and Sadie searched the kitchen and found requested the supplies while she bustled about calling out other things she thought she’d take.

Finally they waved her off and George sent a pick-up notice to the Centre to make sure she got out of the People Mover at the right destination. His grandmother, when in possession of her full faculties could be devious. He couldn’t spot any obvious cunning to her enthusiasm but he thought it as well to check.

Then they jumped on bikes and headed to the Engineering building. It was a crisp day and there were other groups of people biking around. They joined a group heading in their own direction and didn’t have a chance to talk until they peeled off for the final block.

“What sort of stuff do they do at the Centre?” Sadie asked him as she stacked the bike in a bank outside the security gates.

“Oh all sorts, crafting and movies and physical games, things old people like I guess,” he tapered off, thinking that didn’t sound like much fun. Sadie’s face made it plain she thought it sounded kind of dull too.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“What’s your plan for today?” Sadie asked.

“I’m going to firewall a section of the VR town for our buyers to travel around in, and build in some of the hand helds. “ George said. Then I’m going to work on our head set prototypes – make them comfy.

“Hand helds?” Sadie asked.

“Yeah, objects that can operate real world tech, and things that work in the world. I can give you a demo if you like?”

“Cool!”

“Ah, I haven’t actually got you cleared for our lab. I need the guys permission too.”

Sadie nodded. “No problem. I need to run some diagnostics on the Things. There were some irregularities in their behavior yesterday. You want to check out my lab? It’s not as Fort Knox as yours.”

They headed into the building with George wondering if he’d seemed too eager, and Sadie deep in thought about the Things final test.

The Centre for All Abilities was busy when Mrs Z arrived. Families were visiting those who stayed here permanently, there were rehabilitation classes going on and the café was pretty full. Sadie waved aside a suggestion she head to the delights of the craft room and headed to the residents wing. At reception she asked for Hank.

“Let’s see, oh he’s showing up on the next floor down in the screen room. You want me to get someone to take you there?” the guy eyed her yellow tag. It meant she could wander around but she was ‘in care’.

“I think I can find it,” she answered in her sweet-old-lady voice. They tended to leave you alone if you seemed sweet.

She headed to the elevator (they didn’t let yellow tags use the stairs) and found he’d already set the lift to take her to the screening room from his desk. Oh well fair enough, she often forgot where she was going before she got there. But today she had a project, and she didn’t think she’d forget it.

Hank was snoozing in the back row of the dim little theatre. They never let the lights go too low but it was a good place to get away, if you didn’t mind endless Hallmark movies. Mrs Z shuffled along the seats and sat down next to a man who might have been in his mid 70s.

“Hey Hank!”

He opened his eyes and looked at her.

“You’re not the nurse.”

“Astute observation old codger. Don’t know me today huh?”

The old man eyed her with the resignation of someone who lived with Alzheimer’s. She knew what he’d be thinking, should he lie and try and figure out how he knew her or just admit defeat. He chose defeat.

“Sorry lady, my mind forgets stuff sometimes.”

“That’s Okay Hank I’m in the same boat half the time. I’m just hanging on really. Let me tell you, we’re friends you and I. And I’m going to take you on a trip.”

Hank stared at her, interested, but then he saw her yellow tag.

“Lady, that’s a nice thought but have you seen that tag you’re wearing? You’re just as stuck here as me.”

Mrs Z chuckled and settled in beside him. She rummaged in her hand bag,

“Hold this.” She handed him some non-Complete food. Cookies! So maybe this was to be a sugar escape. But she was still rummaging. She pulled out a bunch of wires and held them up.

“Bingo! Okay lean forward, I need to put this on your head.”

Hank had experienced almost ever humiliation since becoming a resident at the Centre for All Abilities. They meant well he knew, but he was used to doing for himself. Now this woman was offering to put something on his head that might be like that thing they used to use to electrocute people. It might be that, but Hank didn’t think he minded. There could be worse ways to go than sitting in the back seat of the movies with a person who claimed they were your friend. He bent his head forward.

Two seconds later Hank was staring down some old alleyway that he thought might be behind a bar he once used to go to.

“Is this? Is this a movie?”

“Sort of like a movie that you’re in. With no script. Stay in your seat but get yourself curious about what’s around the next corner. You’ll find you can move without using your feet.”

“Huh!”

Hank willed himself forward, down the alley, out into a lane. There was a hill in the middle of the town and he could see trees up there.

“Oof!.” he said.

“What happened?” the woman asked him, he couldn’t see her, but it seemed like she was right next to him still. He righted himself and got up from the ground.

“There are these damn stones all over the ground – I tripped,” he told her. “No harm done though, didn’t feel it really. Hey lady, you won’t believe what just turned up.”

“What?”

“A big cat is heading towards me. Hope it ain’t hungry. Oh it’s got young uns.”

“They’re my friends. Tell em Mrs Z said Hi and that you’re bound for the armory.”

Hank, feeling only a little stupid, did as he was told and the cats turned and headed away from him, pausing only to look back in a way he felt meant he should follow. He hoped they’d know the way back home but he wasn’t worried about getting lost as he usually was. He walked to a large old building of stone and wood and he wasn’t in the least tuckered out when he got there. One of the smaller cats changed in front of his eyes to become, well, a middle aged man wearing old style glasses.

“Welcome to the Graz Armory – would you like to take a look?”

“The grass amour, uh well sure, lead on.” Hank stomped across solid wooden floorboards as his tour guide flitted about.

The armory was laid out like a medieval supermarket with rows of wooden shelves, each containing helms or swords or braces or.. well practically anything to do with ancient battle. He wandered into the cannon section.

“Cannon balls!”

“Technically called ‘round shot’ Sir. Used from the 1400s but yes, often referred to as cannonballs. Would you like to fire a cannon?”

“I think I would!” Whatever was going on, Hank was having a really good day.

“What the heck? I didn’t program these skills.” Sadie was reviewing the Things adaptive learning log. She cast a disapproving look at George, working alongside her. “This was your grandmother.”

“Will it affect their marketability?” George asked. A large part of their grade was about commercial application, which was how the College was funded. Even if Sadie didn’t have an active sponsor – she still needed to show she could design for the market.

“I don’t think so, it’s just your grandmother shouldn’t be able to override the directive protocols so easily. I don’t think it’s my code, I need to have another look at the starting protocols. The original code.”

She pulled up a wall screen and started tracing her way through the initiation module that had come with her robots. George stared at it for a while too, he could see she’d made a lot of annotations but there were big chunks without much notation.

“Who was the original coder?” he asked, but Sadie was so deep in her work she didn’t hear him. He scrawled her a note and went upstairs to get a Crown.

Whenever she worked with the elegant code that she had inherited with her prototype robots, Sadie was impressed. Much of the code was adaptive so that as their physical shape changed – to allow a change to their function – things like movement and balance didn’t get screwed up. In a way the Things were like sophisticated toddlers learning to walk – they were in constant learning mode about their physicality.

The problem was, there was a LOT of code. And much of it was written in old SQL. It had so many nested loops and safety features she’d known that she couldn’t afford to decipher and recode it all. She’d taken it on faith that operators would only be able to instruct the robots about variants of their basic functions. She really thought she’d tested for that.

She set up the camera and took out a borrowed jigsaw from Mrs Z.

“Out you come Things!”

The Things tumbled out of her backpack and went about the assembly job. It was one of the best displays yet of their ability to sort and match and organize. Was it her imagination that they seemed slower and, sort of bored? The Things didn’t have emotions though, so it must be something else.

George came back in. He watched the building but didn’t say anything as he could see she was filming. He put on the Crown and starting mapping out a space he could freeze and groom for the investors to try. He loved his grass so he made that the starting point, then the journey over the bridge.

“You’re typing in thin air!” Sadie said, finishing her recording and seeing George work.

“Yeah, if you’ve finished what you’re doing, put on that Crown beside me and I’ll show you some stuff.” George tried to sound casual as he prepared to show Sadie his other great invention. Sadie showed up beside him a few seconds later.

To Sadie, George was now sitting on the side of his bridge swinging his legs and typing on a lap top with a large square of code in from of him. A fishing rod appeared at her feet.

“Okay get your fishing rod ready,” George called out, typing like a madman. Sadie studied the ancient device, she tentatively swung the hooked end over the bridge and wound the line down. It pulled taught as the current pulled it away from the bridge. George’s typing slowed and he hit a final key.

“There! Okay wait for it.” He watched over the side as dozens of silver fish began to emerge under the bridge and, seconds later, one caught onto the hook. Sadie pulled back on the rod and then, seeing what the mechanism at the top apparently did, started winding. A wriggling fish thrashed and twitched on the hook. She looked surprised, horrified and also, George was pretty sure, she was having fun.

“I thought this would be cool for our investors to try.” George said. He produced a wicker basket and was about to suggest she put her catch inside it when they heard the cannon fire.