Chapter 2

Perhaps some people would be frightened of such a sight. But Zubaida was a brave girl. And as she approached, the figure held up its pincer hand to its face, as if it were afraid.

Robot

Please do not come any closer.

Its voice was monotone and tinny, a male voice.

Zubaida had of course heard stories about robots from her friends who had ventured to see Western science fiction movies. But never in a million years did she think they existed.

Zubaida

We won't...

Hasan (who was quite frightened) peeked out from behind her.

Zubaida

But you don't need to be afraid of us. We are two Muslim children and we are not going to hurt you.

The robot made no move, but his red eyes blinked once quickly like a reset alarm clock, as if he were contemplating what Zubaida said.

Zubaida

What happened to your arm?

With its remaining arm, the robot gestured to the bottom of the machinery pile. There was its other arm, lying on the ground.

Zubaida

Does it hurt, where your arm is missing?

Robot

No.

Zubaida

What is your name?

Robot

I do not have a name.

Zubaida

But what do they call you?

Robot

My product number is Alef-Shnyin Hamisha.

Zubaida knew that these were Hebrew numbers and letters, though she did not know what they were.

Zubaida

God have mercy. So you were manufactured by the Zioinsts!

The robot did not answer. He only looked down at the machinery pile, and blinked his red eyes again.

Zubaida

You were, weren't you...

Zubaida had earlier untied her blue headscarf because there were no men around to see her and it was very hot. Now she wrapped it slowly around her head. At first, she did this without even thinking about it. She always wrapped her headscarf around her head when there were men or boys around to see her. But why did she feel compelled to cover her hair in front of the robot? Was the robot a man? Even with his monotone computer voice, he sounded like a man. Or perhaps more like a shy boy. There was something in the robot's actions which compelled Zubaida to act as if he were a real boy.

Did that mean that the robot had a soul?

Zubaida

Let me ask you a very important question: Are you a Muslim?

The colored lights on the robot's chest began to blink rapidly.

Robot

I do not know. What does it mean to be a Muslim?

Zubaida

Being a Muslim means submitting to the will of the supreme and merciful God, creator of all. The holy and perfect Quran says that God judges everyone—and not only humans, but all beings. God judges the djinn too! The djinn are beings that God made out of the smokeless fire, just as God made humans out of the clay. And only those beings who are Muslims can join God in Paradise after they die. Everyone else is tortured forever in hell, djinn and humans alike.

Robot

The Quran?

Zubaida

Oh no. Oh, God have mercy! But that is not your fault, is it? If you were made by the Zionists, then of course they would not want you to read the holy Quran. In fact they would probably try to keep the truth of the Quran from you so that you would not question their unjust oppression of innocent Muslims. The Quran says that the kufr, the unbelievers, will try to keep the truth of Islam hidden, but that is only because they themselves do not want to acknowledge its truth. But you do not need to worry about that. Can you read? You understand Arabic, so I am sure that we can teach you the holy Quran. I have read it seven times and I have even memorized parts of it. And my older brother Mohammed can help too.

Robot

It is difficult for me to read. But I can learn many things by listening to people.

Zubaida

Thank God! You seem like a very nice robot. But why did you ask us to go away earlier?

The robot's torso and eye lights blinked.

Robot

I was ashamed.... I am incomplete....

Zubaida

Incomplete? Because of your arm?

The robot said nothing, but only blinked and looked down.

Zubaida walked over and picked up the arm. At first the robot recoiled, but he gradually accepted her presence and became still. The arm was cold and quite heavy.

Zubaida

Can I try to put it back on?

The robot seemed to nod.

Zubaida called Hasan over to help her. The boy's fear had given way to awe, and now he was bright-eyed and curious about their new friend. Zubaida and Hasan tried to lift the arm up and fit it into the robot's shoulder socket, but it only scraped against the metal. They tried twisting and pushing and jamming it in, but nothing worked.

Robot

You can leave it....

Zubaida

No! You said yourself you are incomplete. I want to help you!

Hasan

Zubaida! Can we take him home with us? Maybe Mohammed will know how to fix him."

Zubaida considered Hasan's suggestion. Mohammed was a computer specialist and he probably had all sorts of tools to weld the arm back on to the robot's body. Of course, Mohammed would be furious with her for sneaking out to the factory. But on the other hand, she could teach the robot more about Islam if she brought him home. She would get in trouble, but if the robot truly had a soul, then getting in trouble was far less important than helping him see the truth of Islam. And, Zubaida thought, didn't the Prophet Mohammed (peace be upon him) get in trouble for preaching Islam in Mecca? They drove him out of the city and tried to kill him. So if the Prophet thought that spreading Islam was more important than avoiding trouble, then surely she should think the same.

Zubaida

Robot—would you like to come home with me and my brother Hasan? You do not seem very happy here. My older brother could fix your arm, and we can talk more about Islam.

The robot said nothing, but the rows of lights on his chest blinked on and off, on and off. Zubaida figured that whenever the lights on the robot's chest blinked, it meant he was thinking.

Robot

I do not want to be a burden.

Zubaida

You won't! I promise. It would be our honor to be your host.

Hasan

It would be exciting!

Hasan was getting more and more excited by the minute.

Robot

Then I will.

Chapter 3