Revolution 19 by Gregg Rosenblum Read Free Book Online Page B

scrutiny, challenging him to stare back. He quickly looked away. “Damn,” he said. “Damn, damn. Those girls are watching us.”
    “They’re watching you, pretty boy,” Cass teased, but she sounded more confident than she felt. What were they looking at on that screen? “Ignore them.”
    Kevin started laughing. “Pretty boy!” he said.
    “Shut up, Kevin,” said Nick.
    A waitress approached their table. She was probably about their mom’s age, with the same color hair—blonde streaked with gray, pulled back into a ponytail. Cass blinked hard a few times, pushing back the tears that surprised her by threatening to well up.
    A nametag on the waitress’s blouse said . She filled their coffee cups, set the coffee carafe down on the edge of the table, and pulled a notepad from a pocket. “Hello, kids,” she said. “What’ll it be today?” SANDY
    “Breakfast lover’s special,” blurted Kevin.
    “How do you want your eggs?”
    “Um … what?”
    “Your eggs,” said Sandy. “Scrambled, sunny-side up, over easy …”
    “The first one, please.”
    “What kind of toast?”
    “What kind?”
    Sandy raised an eyebrow but didn’t look up from her notepad. “White, wheat, rye, cinnamon raisin, sourdough …”
    “The first one,” said Kevin. “Please.”
    “I’ll have the same thing,” said Nick.
    “And me, too,” said Cass.
    “Something to drink?” said Sandy.
    “Yes,” said Nick.
    Sandy waited, then when nobody spoke, said, “Okay, what would you like to drink?”
    “Oh, sorry,” said Nick. “Water. Do you have water? Water for everyone.”
    Sandy tucked her notepad back into her pocket. “Yeah, I think we can find some water for you.” She left, shaking her head.
    “I still don’t get it,” said Cass quietly, leaning forward. She gestured at the room full of people, eating plates heaped with food, laughing, talking, dressed in clean new clothes, not a robot in sight.
    The man at the table next to them stood and set four orange-colored rectangular pieces of paper under his coffee cup, then put his brown, broad-brimmed hat on his head and walked out. Kevin reached over and grabbed the orange paper. The number 10 was printed on each corner of both sides, along with the centered image of two hands, one human flesh, one robot metal, clasped in a firm handshake. The words PEACE, PROSPERITY, PROTECTION formed a circle around the gripped hands.
    Sandy came over and began clearing the man’s dishes. She paused, frowning, staring at the table. She lifted up the napkin dispenser, set it down, lifted all the paper placemats, then looked underneath the table, moving the chairs out of her way. She clanged the dishes down hard on the table. “Eddie!” she shouted. “Eddie! We’ve got a no-pay at table twenty-five!”
    A bald man, big belly pushing against a food-stained white apron, came rushing out from the kitchen. He had a black device in his hands, just like the girls who had been staring at Nick.
    “Tall man, by himself,” said Sandy. She now had a device in her hands, too, and was typing furiously on it. Eddie began typing as well. “Brown hat,” she continued. “Mustache, I think. I don’t remember. But he just left.” She paused in her typing to look out the window and pointed excitedly. “He’s right outside, just crossing the street!” The waitress went back to her typing, and a number of nearby diners had devices in their hands and were typing as well.
    Outside, the man crossed the street, then paused on the far sidewalk to button his coat. The typing had stopped. The room was silent. Nobody was eating or talking; everyone looked out the window, watching the man.
    Cass felt sick. “This is bad,” she whispered. Kevin reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing hard.
    The man began walking, and then a sphere bot came flying around the corner and stopped right in front of him. It blinked on and off with a red light. The man stopped, looking confused. “CITIZEN, YOU ARE