EDGE OF DAY

CHAPTER TWO

Rosalie flapped something over her head. Was that flimsy material cardboard? Day hadn't seen cardboard since they had breakfast cereal boxes when she was little. Where had the droid maid found cardboard?

A soft beeping filled the air, coming from a red light pulsing beneath the skin of Rosalie's wrist. The maid had put in an emergency call.

"Cut the call," Day said. Her voice sounded croaky. As though it had been wiped out with her consciousness and was slow to come around.

"I can't stop the call Miss White. Look." Rosalie kneeled down and held up Day's wrist. Day's arm felt floppy, out of her control. It reminded her of the time she broke it and had a general anaesthetic for the operation.

Day's wrist monitor was on full flashing emergency mode. Words scrolled along in Russian, Spanish and English, the three principle northern world languages:

Immediate help required.

"Rosalie, cut the emergency call, or I'm firing you."

"But Mr. Lang would fire me if I didn't make the call. And they've already processed your accident."

The droid sounded nervous. Sometimes you had to wonder, if they weren't legally obliged to show the serial number on the neck, would you be able to tell the androids from humans?

At school, Day and her friends had been so sure of themselves. They were certain they could spot a droid from the real thing, any day. Five units of obligatory psychology had been dedicated to it.

"Cancel the request," Day said.

"But Mr. Lang..."

"Mr. Lang won't know you cancelled the call," Day said. "But if you persist in asking for medical assistance, I will fire you Rosalie."

Rosalie pressed the pulse in her neck and the flashing on her wrist stopped. Then she overrode the alert on Day's monitor.

"Why would you go out there?" she asked. "Why take such a risk with your health?"

"My health?"

"Yes, you must stay in good health. It's most important. Especially now."

Day allowed Rosalie to sit her up. She rubbed her temples where a headache was setting in. Odd. It wasn't like she could smell nitrogen dioxide or some kind of poison in her nostrils. If the air poisoned her body that fast, you would think she could smell it, right?

"Especially important now," Day repeated, letting Rosalie's words sink in. "Why?"

Rosalie clapped her hands. "I saw the approval papers in Mr. Lang's drawer. It's very exciting!"

Day's heart pounded. All sense of tiredness vanished. A buzz of adrenaline fed straight into her brain.

"Okay, Rosalie," she said in a chirpy voice. "It's almost ten thirty. I'm meeting Mr. Lang for lunch at the studio, I'd better get showered."

Rosalie nodded and smiled. Day got to her feet and forced herself to walk from the living room when she wanted to run.

Approval papers for what?

She entered the bedroom. Rosalie had made the bed with fresh lilac-scented sheets, thumped the curtains, and vacuumed the rug. Everything was immaculate.

"Lock," Day ordered the door. It clicked as she headed for Ed's drawers and opened the top compartment where he kept an old pen and stationary. Why had Rosalie been rummaging in here, anyway?