One Moment, Please.

Scritch-scritch-KERTHUNK. Scritch-scritch-KERTHUNK. A loose assemblage of stones could be heard grating against the sidewalk as they josteled one another within a small brown burlap bag roughly the size you use to bring 10 lbs of potatoes home in. The bag was cinched shut with a length of twine that had been knotted approximately a quarter of the way down from the opening. Eighteen inches away was another knot securing the twine to Naoki's titanium right leg. To be clear, it wasn't just his right leg that was titanium , practically his entire body was, save for his eyes, which were a combination of bullet proof glass and optical nerve circuitry for his HUD projection. See, Naoki was a robot, and he was about to kill himself. Kind of. True to his namesake, Naoki had always been steadfast and outwardly stoic. As the personal bodyguard for a lavishly wealthy family with two daughters, this had been absolutely required. Inwardly however, he possessed a flair for the theatrical, held a quiet appreciation for an occasional display of the melodramatic. It had been this inward affinity that first drew him to the idea of his death playing out in such a manner. And that's really what all of this was anyway. A one man play he was putting on for himself. He was trudging uphill towards the Golden Gate Bridge where he intended to leap with his burlap anchor of stones and plunge to the bottom of the Golden Gate Strait and drown. And while yes, there were the recently constructed nets running the length of the bridge on both sides, constructed to deter precisely this type of act, they would hardly be a deterrent, he could easily leap past them, he was a robot, after all. And while also, yes, he couldn't actually drown, and the weight of his 350lb titanium body rendered the burlap bag of stones completely unnecessary, it would all make for a Good Show. Just this one time, just once he was willing to indulge himself in a bit of theatrical escapism. Naoki was highly skilled in an array of martial arts disciplines as well as being a Samurai Master. He had been designed and engineered specifically as elite protection for extremely high-end clientele. He had been with his employer from the time they learned they were expecting twins, up until the twins were off to college and his employer retired to travel the world with his wife. With his services no longer being needed Naoki had spent the last ten months and change participating in tournament-style exhibitions designed as showcases for potential clients whose wealth, substantial as it may be, limited their personal security options to the older Gens of models, such as himself. Naoki had no plans for future employment, telling any interested potentials that he would "review the details of their assignment as submitted to the exhibition organizers." The exhibitions were simply a way of determining when the time was right for The Show. He had decided, without rhyme or reason, as even robots are wont to do from time to time, that when his blade had dulled to the point of being useless, that that would be that. So yesterday, when the few remaining granules of sand had dropped and completed the peak at the bottom of the hourglass, so to speak, they brought with them not melancholy but an almost jubalint sense of whimsy. It had arrived at last, Showtime. He had drawn no real attention during his trek, a robot walking amongst the pedestrians was hardly an uncommon or even particularly interesting sight, even one with a bag of stones dragging behind him. Just as he was leaning face first over the railing, preparing himself to leap up and over, beyond the deterrent nets, he heard a voice directed at him. "Excuse me, sir, one moment, please." Leaning back from the railing and straightening himself he looked to his right and met the stern gaze of a black woman, mid-fifties perhaps, in a SFPD uniform marching towards him in an authoritive no nonsense stride. Her badge read "C.Higgins." Even with the deterrent nets, the bridge was still routinely patrolled by officers on foot. Upon approaching Naoki she said to him "you are not going over that railing. Man, woman, robot, I don't care. You are not doing this on my watch." He was about to speak, to try and explain he wasn't actually trying to kill himself, to try to explain about The Show. Before he could begin to speak however, she continued. "Not when my shift is five minutes from being over, and sure as Hell not on my 30th Wedding Anniversary." As she continued to speak the sternness of her voice was now accompanied by an edge of bitterness. "Ten years" she continued "Ten years I've been working to prevent another sensless tragedy like Frank." When she spoke next, however, her voice had lost it's anger, the bitterness now gone as well. The words being shaped instead by a voice that carried with it an unmistakable weight of grief and resignation. "Twenty years we had been married. Twenty years before Frank..." As she spoke this last part she had shifted her gaze to the railing and the water far below. Her shoulders hitched, dropped, then hitched and settled again as she seemingly lost the ability to speak any further. It appeared almost as if her entire body had deflated and shrunk in on itself. Still saying nothing, Naoki looked into her eyes and saw several things in them. He saw compassion. Desperate, but against all odds hopeful and sincere compassion for others. More than anything else though he saw exhaustion. She was, in every sense of the word, exhausted. In the time leading up to today's show, Naoki had mentally played out the plan several times. In his mind it had always played out like a whimsical folly. Just moments before he had been prepared to explain this, but now, as he once more replayed it in his mind, he was viewing it through the lense of grief that she was viewing it through and was absolutely mortified to discover that she would have seen it as nothing more than a selfish and cruel mockery of her grief. "Officer Higgins," he began before she quickly stopped him short "Corrina, uou may call me Corrina. And your name?". "Naoki," he replied. "Protector, Japanese." This wasn't a question. " 'Cultural Studies', in college, before joining the force," she added by way of explanation. Naoki then asked "Would you like to walk with me to Chrissy Park and watch the sunset?" "I would like that" she replied as she took his right hand. She looked down at the bag of stones still affixed to his right leg then back at him. "Oh, right, of course," he said as he tore it free and lobbed the bag casually over the railing. They walked in silence to Chrissy Park where they took a bench and watched in quiet appreciation as the sky's bright blue canvas deepened while soft brush strokes of purple, pink and orange painted the horizon.

The End