Building Baby Brother (continued)

I wanted to ask him . . . something. My lips refused to move as my mind struggled with what to say. Perhaps part of me was afraid to break the illusion by hearing a stream of complex diagnostic information reported through that boyish mouth.

In the end, I said nothing as I knelt down to the grass.

Josh stood to one side. His eyes were bright from pent-up tears.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” he said, choking on the words. “It was an accident—honest. I don’t know . . .”

He trailed off as I hugged him close. His face pressed into my chest as he burst into long-held sobs. I stroked his hair and whispered reassuring things to him, letting him that I wasn’t angry, that accidents happen.

Eventually, Josh’s crying faded to sniffles. He slowly pushed himself away from me, his eyes red and face still damp from his tears. He wiped at his cheeks and looked down at Gavin.

“Dad?” he asked. His voice caught with a soft, shuddering sigh. “Will he be okay?”

I glanced over at Gavin. He still lay there silently on the grass. Whatever had happened, it didn’t seem to be causing any immediate or possibly catastrophic problems with his main systems.

I looked back at Josh, met his eyes, and smiled.

“Sure,” I said, trying to sound confident. “I’m sure we can fix him up pretty quick.”

Josh’s eyes brightened and he flashed me a smile that expressed a confidence in me that I wished I had.

After I had finished Gavin’s initial construction, there weren’t really that many parts left unused. Some of his original components had been hard enough to come by without being worried about trying to get any extras for spares. There were a few that might be scavenged from, but those were mostly from early designs that I built and then abandoned when they turned out to be not quite what I wanted.

I lifted Gavin up from the grass. Josh followed me silently as I carried him back to the basement workshop. Gavin said nothing. He only blinked up at me with an eerily blank expression.