Page 73 of Ezra
“I’ve never advocated for shut-downs. Our fight is with massive corporations laying off human workers for cheap labor,” I answer calmly. “But that isn’t the point I’m trying to make for this event. People are scared. I think this could go far to mitigate concerns, seeing us come together against TerraPura.”
“Coming together.” Washington scratches his chin. “That’s an interesting idea, Miss Carson, I’ll admit.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I say, trying to redirect to the subject at hand. “Now, Belmont County has an emergency android with the fire department. I think his name is Nolan. If we give the community a chance to interact with him—and Ezra as well—it’ll reassure the public that not every android is a walking bomb ready to go off.” I clasp my hands behind me. “A compassionate event with a good cause that brings people together could do wonders for the city right now.”
“It could bite us in the ass,” Jacobs warns. “They’ll say we’re wasting time, not doing our jobs.”
“They say that anyway,” Washington says. “People are going to criticize us no matter what we do.”
Winters seems somewhat annoyed that Washington disagrees with him, but he waves a hand dismissively. “Fine. Five officers. Your pick. Preferably no more than two off the ACU task force, Washington. Get the other three from somewhere else. The rest can rotate off and on to get some grub.”
He’s not happy, but he agreed, and that’s what counts. I’m hoping the emergency departments I’ve got meetings with later in the week drive a bigger turnout. Fire trucks are always big hits with families, and I’m confident Belmont County won’t be as reluctant to participate.
As the meeting disperses, Washington approaches me with a reserved smile. “You seem to be doing well, Miss Carson. I have to say, I’m surprised.” He gestures to the door, holding it open for me.
“About what?” I ask.
“That you’d be willing to represent your organization in an endeavor including bionics,” he replies.
“The problem has always been humanity, Mr. Washington. I realize that now all too clearly.” I step out of the conference room.
“Glad to hear it.”
I scan the bustling heart of the precinct, but I don’t see any sign of the one man I hoped I might run into. He’s not among the officers working at their desks, or anywhere else. “Will you tell Ezra I say hello?”
“Why don’t you tell him yourself?” Washington’s smile is a little too knowing for my comfort. He motions for me to follow him. “Come on.”
He leads me out of the precinct office to the parking lot, where rows upon rows of police cruisers and personal vehicles alike are parked. A silver Flagler SUV, both of its back doors wide open, idles in a lane between parking spaces.
“Ah, there they are,” he says.
That’s when I spot Ezra. A young girl with braided black hair darts around where he stands, hugging his legs and jumping at him with her arms outstretched as she chatters away. The closer we get, the more I can make sense of it.
“And then he tossed me into the air, and I spun, and he catched me?—”
“Caught you. And that sounds very difficult.” Ezra’s voice is a deep, low rumble. There’s a kind of warmth I don’t think I’ve ever heard before. “I’m sure you did a good job.”
The little girl tugs at his hands. “Will you pwactice with me later, Ezwa? Pwease?”
“Of course,” he replies, picking her up gently so she can wrap her arms around him and hug him tightly.
In an instant, I melt. I love kids. I’ve never really thought about having them myself, but my ovaries are nuclear detonators right now, and they are exploding. Ezra with hisfamily is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen since discovering Charlie.
A lovely woman stands next to him, chuckling as she holds a clear container of dinner leftovers in one hand. “All right, DeDe, time to tell Ezra goodbye.”
“Aw,” she says with a pout. “Okay.”
Ezra rubs her back and sets her down. Her little shoulders slump, lips turned down until he tilts her chin back up. “Hey,” he says. “You have to do something for me now.”
“What?” she says, disappointed as her mother rests a hand on her shoulder.
“Whatever you do,” Ezra replies sternly, “you absolutely cannot smile. No matter what. Don’t do it. Don’t you smile.”
Little DeDe’s face twists as she tries very hard not to smile. She fails, beaming up at him brightly and giggles. That’s a clever trick. I can’t even resist the grin on my face and cover my mouth.
“You have a visitor,” Washington calls as he goes to his wife and embraces her, thanking her softly for the meal.
Ezra turns to me as I hang back from the family. There’s another small child, a boy, waiting in the car seat, watching Ezra, then me, like a hawk with soft brown eyes. I feel like I’m infringing on something personal and not meant for me.
