Chapter 19

The Number 44 and The Sea of Bricks

Ty soon left the LEGO door. Without it behind him as a constant reminder of the direction he came from, he panicked. A feeling of claustrophobia hit him, the massive space making him seem small and insignificant, adrift at sea.

“Stop,” said a voice, coming very close to giving Ty a heart attack. His heart kept on beating—about ten times its usual rate.

“Do not be afraid.”

Ty tried to do as he was told but, really, it just was not going to happen under the circumstances. It got even worse when the ground split open.

The great green landscape came straight at him, sliding underneath his side of the room which, thankfully, remained motionless beneath his feet. It steadily picked up speed, miles and miles of screen with no end in sight until, all at once, the last of it disappeared under him with a click.

He thought the screen was impressive, but it had been hiding something even more unbelievable underneath: bricks. Millions, billions, trillions of colored bricks.

The pieces of plastic moved toward him and spilled over the edge of the pit. Ty reached down and grabbed a handful, the rest retreating back over the side. Just like...

“It's an ocean,” Ty said with awe as the pit of bricks rose and fell, waves crashing against the “shore.”

“Wait one moment,” the disembodied voice said, scaring Ty—again—and he dropped the bricks he held at once, like a child caught playing with something he shouldn't be.

A low humming sound came from farther out at sea, getting closer at an alarming rate. Ty squinted and saw... a TV?

A large (television-sized) box was literally flying over top of the bricks, skimming across waves as they rose and crashed around it. It wasn't until the box came to a very precise stop in front of him that Ty was finally able to decide on what exactly he was seeing.

It was a flying robot... thing, with two large, pixelated eyes, and a long black loading bar for a mouth. On the lower left corner there was a circle with the number forty-four engraved on it, almost like a badge.

The pixel eyes blinked once. Ty subconsciously mimicked the movement.

“You are Ty, correct?” The voice was the same one as before.

“Y-yes. How... do you know my name?”

“San alerted me of your arrival.” The robot something-or-other then turned completely around, a sort of ramp opened out of its back, complete with railings on both sides. “Please hop on.”

Not having any other place to be, Ty obliged the strange machine, jumping on without question (although you could be sure there would be tons more later). Ty held tight onto the railings and then the computer was off, sailing back across the sea of bricks.

#

Miles. Miles and miles of sea. That's all there was to see in every direction. It was a fantastic sight, but Ty couldn't help wondering if there was more to the room.

“Where are we going?” Ty called over the wind rushing by and the sound of bricks crashing against each other.

“The center.”

“Of the ocean?”

There was a very small electronic chuckle, barely audible over the noises of the sea. “Is that what you call it?” A pause, then, “Yes.”

“How far is it?”

“Not far... please refrain from asking any more questions, small human.”

Small human? Rude robot... Ty wasn't sure he cared for this guy much. Still, he dropped the questions. For now.

Ty sat down, figuring he might as well make himself comfortable. Bricks splashed up around him every time the robot hit a wave, the colored bricks extremely enticing. Ty leaned over, slipped his arm through the railing, and held his hand out to the ocean.

It wasn't long before a wave of bricks hit, pounding against his arm, hurting more than he expected. He withdrew his hand, full of captured bricks and emptied them onto the platform, examining his catch.

There were a few bricks (one red, two blue) but most were odds and ends of the newer, fancier stuff: a dragon's head, little guns, some tires, and—

“Ah!” Ty yelled as something bolted from the pile and into his face.

Ty frantically swatted at the thing, missing every time as it continued its struggle to poke his eyes out.

“Is there a problem back there?” The robot asked as Ty flailed about on the platform, trying to dodge the object and catch it at the same time, both goals at odds with one another.

“N-no!” Ty stopped rolling about and abandoned the dodging, focusing solely on catching it. “Everything is—”

The object zipped for Ty's face again—just as he knew it would—and he clapped his hands shut, catching it between his palms.

“Got it!” Ty exclaimed.

His computerized ride did not share in his victory, nor even acknowledge it. The “small human” was no longer jumping around on his back like a baboon and that appeared to be enough for him.

That was fine with Ty, his mind preoccupied with the mystery of what he held in his hands. Ty parted a few of his fingers and looked inside.

It was a bug—a dragonfly to be precise... made of LEGO pieces. It didn't just look the part, it moved and acted as well, its wings flapping up and down at a blinding speed.

Now that he knew what it was, Ty had let his guard down and the bug zoomed straight for the part in his hands. He panicked, losing his grip, and the bug was free. It buzzed around his head angrily for a few seconds and then darted away, back out to sea.

Ty jumped to his feet and leaned over the railing, watching the bug's flight. It wasn't alone either; there was an entire swarm of them flying all around. And not just bugs, but birds too, and fish jumping out of the waves. All of them, made of bricks.

“What are they?”

Without having to ask what Ty was referring to, the robot said, “My creations.”

“How do they—”

“Move? I will show you.”

The computer pulled a complete 180, almost throwing Ty off the lift. Instead, it threw him against one of the rails and knocked the air out of him. He collapsed to the platform, trying to regain his composure. A task made even harder when the lift started to recede back into the computer.

He backed away but was shoved from behind, flung overboard and into the painful churning, swirling, sea of—no, wait a second...

He was on a solid surface in the center of everything, a chair and table in front of him.

“Welcome,” said the computer as he flew over Ty's head and hovered above the table. “This is where it happens.”

Ty sat down in the chair. “Where what happens?”

“My work.”

The pixelated face disappeared from the screen, replaced by menus and buttons that wouldn't be out of place on a normal computer.

What followed was a long, sometimes confusing speech, about what he was made for and what each of his many programs did. The short version, what Ty was able to gather, was this:

Through complicated technological mumbo-jumbo, the computer was able to design a LEGO creation in a program, make a list of the exact types and amount of pieces to be used, then retrieve them from the sea and create an exact replica of what was on his screen.

“Now, for a demonstration.”

Menus popped up and disappeared all over. Ty tried to follow what was happening, but it was impossible to keep up with anything other than the middle of the screen, where a digital model was being constructed, brick by brick. And before long, a bat took shape.

“Design complete.” His already electronic sounding voice was even more robotic and emotionless, a prerecorded phrase.

The robot spun around, showing Ty his back where eight flaps opened. Out of every one came a long mechanical tube-like arm. Each tube ended with a three pronged pincer on the end, like a makeshift hand.

The designing process at an end, the brick hunting phase began.

The “hands” spread out in different directions and plunged into the sea. Once under, a loud sucking noise came from each tube as bricks were carried from the sea and into the robot. As Ty wondered where the machine could possibly store all of it, another flap opened in the middle of his back and a small ramp came down onto the tabletop. LEGO pieces tumbled down it, spilling onto the table. A large pile was already forming—made up of pitch black bricks.

The flow of pieces became a trickle, and then stopped all together. The ramp retreated, the flap closed behind it, and six of the eight tubes followed suit. The robot twisted back around and the remaining two arms circled the pile of bricks, their pincers opening and closing eagerly.

“Now, to build.”

Ty blinked... and missed the entire thing.

Before, a pile; after, a completed bat.

Ty couldn't articulate more than a simple, “Whoa.”

“It is not done yet.”

Yet another flap opened on the robot. But, this time, it was the part of him with the forty-four branding that gave Ty the feeling something special was going to happen. In his head he heard a pair of drums, drumming up to the climax. Which was a super amazing and awesome—!

A single brick fell out onto the table. What a letdown.

As if sensing Ty's displeasure, the robot picked it up with one of his pincers and held it out to him, giving the boy a better look. It was not an ordinary LEGO after all. It was made of mechanical bits and microchips, looking more like a science fiction movie prop than a toy.

“This is installed with parts of my main motherboard. With it, I can program simple or complex commands for any creation I place it on. Like so,” he said as he pressed the brick onto the head of the bat.

It came to life immediately, flapping with all its might and taking to the air. It moved in all the same ways as the real bats Ty saw not too long ago—a fact that unnerved him. He was glad when it stopped circling around overhead and darted out to sea.

“Amazing!” Did he imagine the smug expression on the robot's face...? He thought so, because it vanished as quick as it came, his usual robotic manner returning.

“Thank you, small human.”

And he still insisted on calling him by that derogatory-sounding term. Which reminded him of something...

“You know my name but... what's yours?”

A sound came from the machine that was like a futuristic gun fight and Ty ducked under the table. The noises got louder, but he was not bombarded by gunfire and the table was not a smoking ruin. He popped his head back up, not sure if the coast was clear—the robot could be self destructing for all he knew. That was when he saw the pixelated expression on his face—eyes squinted shut, mouth open wide—and realized what was happening.

He was laughing.

“What's so funny?” Ty retook his chair and glared at the robot.

“I am sorry,” The laughter slowed. “The concept of names are absurd to me.”

That was a lie. Well, maybe not a total one, but he laughed harder at Ty's reaction to the sound. Somehow, that seemed significant... he let it go though—for now—and instead said, “What's funny about names?”

“That I could ever need one. Names are for humans. Unfitting of me, yes?”

“Why? Everyone deserves a name.”

“A robot needs none; I am not human.”

“We name our animals—they aren't human.”

“Yes, an absurd tradition. Animals do not hear a name, only sound and tone of voice that is directed at them.”

Ty still glared at the stubborn machine, his arms crossed. “What do I call you then?”

“Robot, television, computer, machine, floating head; I do not care.”

“What about that?” Ty asked, pointing to the number on his chest (or the closest thing he had to one at least).

“My model number.”

“So, there's been forty-three other versions of you?”

“Yes.”

“What happened to them?” Ty raised an eyebrow, knowing there was a story there.

The robot didn't say anything. Ty imagined many things that could have been done to them, at San’s hand. None of them pleasant... Ty decided not to press him for answers.

“Well, from now on, as far as I'm concerned, your name is Forty-Four.”

The robot's pixel eyes narrowed. “I told you—”

“Yes, but I disagree with you. I think San has polluted your mind or something.”

Forty-Four's gun show laugh went off again. “San created me, my entire mind is of his design. He could have made me think whatever he wanted.”

Arms still crossed in defiance, Ty said, “I don't believe that.”

“It does not matter what you believe; it is fact.”

Forty-Four turned his back on him, signaling that this conversation was over. Ty allowed it, but he wasn't going to give up so easily. There was something about this robot...

Time to switch gears a bit. “So, San made you. What for?”

At first there was no reply and Ty thought he was getting the silent treatment—from a robot—but he eventually spoke. “To do what I showed you.”

“Make toys come to life?”

“No, I do that for my own amusement. My primary function is to design LEGO sets and manufacture them. The manufacturing process goes on underneath this room. The “sea,” as you called it, is constantly being filtered through sorting machines and sent to be boxed.”

Ty’s mouth hung open. “Wow, so you're able to do all of that and talk to me at the same time?”

“Yes, you are not mentally challenging conversation.”

Ty laughed. “I'm surprised that a computer has a sense of humor.”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do. If you didn't, you wouldn't have laughed when I hid under the table, you wouldn't have thought to tell me to call you a “floating head” and, just now, you would not have sounded so smug while insulting both my brain and conversation skills.”

The pixelated eyes blinked three times as the robot processed his response. “Figments of your imagination.”

“Riiiight,” Ty quipped back.

“I do not wish to speak with you any further right now,” Forty-Four said, turning around again.

Hilarious, Ty thought, now he's throwing some kind of tantrum.

Forty-Four seemed serious about what he'd said, retreating to a far corner of the table and hovering in place, facing away from Ty. This was the part where he could have pointed out to the robot that, normally, an emotionless machine wouldn't have its feelings hurt, but decided against it. It was possible that he would try drowning himself next.

Ty got out of his chair and went to sit on the edge of the platform, swinging his legs over the side and into the slowly lapping bricks. It was strange how much it felt like water surrounding and moving against his legs, now that things were a little calmer. Whether it was designed to be like that or if it was simply a mental suggestion, Ty couldn't be sure.

He stared out at the computerized horizon, drifting off into his own thoughts. What was he going to do? He had to get out of this room, get out of the factory, and get to that door. Oh, and meet up with Gen—

His heart plummeted to his feet. Gentry. With all of the fascinating things about this room, he’d been able to push what happened in that alley out of mind. Now... sorrow gripped him again. It bubbled up inside, flooding his heart and soul, threatening to drown him under a—

No. He wouldn't let it. He wouldn't even let himself believe it—Gentry was not dead. He was just knocked out, still in that alley. Before even thinking about getting to the door in the Town Square, he would save Gentry first.

And so, Ty began to build.