The United Negro College Fund vs. Steve Huntington

Steve stopped running and looked around. Was that thing just toying with him at this point? How was he not dead already?

He knocked on the door. He didn’t want to drag Dawn into this, but what choice did he have? No response. He knocked again, louder this . The light came on.

“Just a second!” he heard an exasperated voice say from inside.

The door opened six inches. Dawn looked out through half-open eyes. She sighed loudly.

“Steve, what the hell are you doing here?”

He could feel the panic and bile rising in his throat. He’d made a mistake coming here. He’d put her life at risk.

“Just let me in, and I’ll explain.”

“Steve, it’s three in the morning. Go home, you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. You know me. I wouldn’t do something crazy.”

“What about clown college?”

Three years, and she still hadn’t let that go. No wonder they had broken up. He felt a brief wave of anger wash over him, but then the fear took over.

“Please, just let me in. Five minutes.”

She shut the door. He heard her unlatch the chain. She opened the door and motioned him inside. She did not look happy.

“Five minutes,” she said.

They sat at the kitchen table that had been their first major purchase as a couple. Steve wondered if she regretted breaking up with him. Based on the look on her face, she did not.

“What do you know about the United Negro College Fud?” he asked.

“The United Negro College Fund?”

“Yeah, the UNCF. A mind is terrible thing to waste?”

“I guess they send black kids to college? You know I have work in the morning, right?’

 “Well, they’ve sent a robot to kill me.”

Dawn looked like she wanted to kill him herself

“You woke me up at three in morning to tell me…”

“I have a video.”

The video was shaky, as the robot had been firing a gun at him at the time. The robot looked a bit like Harriet Tubman, if Harriet Tubman had been a robot.

“The United Negro College Fund helps underprivileged youths and historically black colleges and universities,” shouted the robot, “Steve Huntington will not stop us.”

The robot fired a missile from its shoulder-mounted missile launcher. Then, as it sang “We Shall Overcome”, it shot lasers from its eyes. The video cut out suddenly.

Dawn sat for a moment.

“What happened next,” she asked.

“It threw a telephone pole at me. Then it stopped and asked some bystanders to donate money to the United Negro College Fund.”

“What did you do?

’What did you mean?”

“I mean, why is the United Negro College Fund sending killer robots after you?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I want to know why this robot somehow knows who you are and says you need to be stopped.”

“I didn’t do anything to the United Negro College Fund. How could you even ask…”

“You know there’s more black men in prison than in college in this country.”

“I know. Its’s a real shame”

“Do you really mean that?’

“What? Of course, I mean that.”

“Well, the United Negro College Fund has a vital mission and not enough money. Do you expect me to believe they would have spent the money on a killer robot instead of giving some kid a scholarship if they didn’t have a good reason? ”

“You do understand that the United Negro College Fund does not have a killer robot program. You understand that, right? Whatever this is, this is not happening because the United Negro College Fund is creating killer robots”

“Wait, are you saying they can’t create killer robots? Because they’re black? ”

“Of course I’m not saying it’s because they’re black. I’m just saying it’s nuts to assume some charity  is sending a killer robot after me because I’m Hitler or something. ”

Dawn did not look convinced.

“I don’t know. You spend a lot of time on the Internet. Maybe you’re alt-right now.”

“I’m not a racist. You know that.”

“I don’t know anything anymore.”

“I’m not a racist! I voted for Obama twice!”

“You said you voted for Romney”

“I said I liked his hair! He’s not as bad as Trump you know.”

“Maybe the robot is from the future. Maybe you become a super racist later on, and this robot is here to stop you.”

“You’re insane!”

“You’re the one with a robot trying to kill you. It mentioned you by name.”

Steve got up from the table.

“It was a mistake coming here! I have to go!”

“I’m giving you five minutes, “replied Dawn, “then I’m calling the cops and the United Negro College Fund.”

Steve studied her face for any sign she was joking. She wasn’t. He bolted for the door.

“Get out of my house!” Dawn shouted

He ran through the night, looking for shelter. A wolf howled in the distance. What was a wolf doing in the suburbs of Philadelphia? Maybe the United Negro College Fund was sending wolves after him as well. He shook his head. It was unlikely enough that the United Negro College Fund was a killer robot program, but a killer wolf program as well? Ridiculous. They wouldn’t have any money to send kids to school.

He found a park, darted inside. Maybe the trees could give him some cover. He didn’t want to stop, but he was exhausted, and he needed to try again, just one more time. He punched the number into his phone.

The lady on the other end of the line recognized him as soon as he started speaking.

“Hello, Mr. Huntington,” she said wearily.

“Listen, I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I really need to speak to the head of your organization.”

“Mr. Huntington, the United Negro College Fund is dedicated to funding historically black colleges and helping young African-American scholars go onto higher education. We do not build killer robots.

“But…”

“Check with the NAACP,” she said, and hung up the phone.

He turned off his phone and tried to get some sleep. The secretary’s suggestion tormented him. Was she just being sarcastic, or was she sympathetic and trying to send him a coded message? Maybe the NAACP had created the robot to make the UNCF look bad. Maybe the African-American community was not building killer robots, and the whole thing was a false-flag operation by the CIA.  How deep did this conspiracy go?

His thoughts were interrupted by a tree falling toward him.  It was here. The damn thing had found him again. He sprinted out of the way

“Samuel L. Jackson is one of the many people we’ve helped go to college. Give to the United Negro College fund today,” said the robot, flinging throwing stars.

One of the stars founded its target. Steve fell to the ground in agony. He yanked it out of his leg, got back up, kept running. The pain faded as he pounded the concrete, but he knew that was the adrenaline. He wasn’t much of an athlete, and he was already pushing himself far beyond his limits.

Why had the United Negro college Fund deviated from its historic mission of helping promising young black scholars to kill him? And how could he stop it? Even if he managed to somehow destroy the robot, it would look bad for him – a white guy smashing the hard work of a group of people trying to help African-Americans succeed. He didn’t want that on his conscience.

The robot was gaining on him.

“You should read the latest Ta-Neshi Coates article in the Atlantic this month. It’s quite thought-provoking ,”shouted the robot, “Not you Steve Huntington! You need to die!”

Steve had meant to read it, but an issue of The Economist always took so long to get through, and he was behind on his reading. Perhaps his life would been in danger now if he had just eschewed reading that 12-page feature on the president of Indonesia.

A car blew up in front of him. Then another one. And another. Soon, there was a raging wall of fire in front of him. He stopped in his tracks. There was no way around the inferno.

“Steve Huntington,your reign of terror has come to an end, ” said the robot.

“Please, just tell me what this is all about,” pleaded Steve. He’d left his checkbook at home, but perhaps the robot had Venmo.

The robot stopped, “The time for talking is over. You are an enemy of the United Negro College Fund. ”

The robots eyes began to glow red. Blades slid out of the robot’s hands. Steve fell to his knees. He would never know what he had done to provoke this, but he didn’t care. He was too tired to fight anymore.

 A crowd had gathered around, but no one even attempted to help. They merely held their phones aloft, filming an execution to be gawped at on the Internet. He closed his eyes and waited for the killing blow

There was an electronic shriek. He opened his eyes. A second robot had arrived and was punching the Harriet Tubman robot. It punched back, sending the newcomer flying.

Steve felt a surge of joy that lasted until he got a good look at his savior. His heart sank.

“Oh no. Oh God, no,” he whispered.

”You don’t have to worry anymore, Steve. I’m here to protect you, “ his savior said loudly as it put Steve’s tormentor into a headlock.

The onlookers snapped pictures of the new robot. They snapped pictures of Steve. A news van had arrived and was filming the whole thing. Steve’s life flashed before his eyes.

Steve wondered if we would be able to convince people he had nothing to do with the new robot that was ripping the arm off the Harriet Tubman robot. Probably not. If there was one thing people on the Internet were known for, it was not withholding judgement until all the facts were in.

The fight was over quickly. The Harriet Tubman robot put up a valiant fight, but the newcomer was too powerful. It died in a cacophony of digital screams and twisted metal.

“I had nothing to do with this,” Steve shouted at the crowd. They almost seemed afraid of him. People were still filming him, but they were slowly backing away.

“Everyone leave Steve Huntington alone. He’s with me,” the robot said to the crowd.

  “I’m not with him,” Steve shouted. They didn’t believe him. The robot put its arm around him.

 “I…I can’t go with you,” he said weakly,”I just need to go home.”

“No, you need to come with me. We’re going to a place in Idaho. A safe place. My creators’ compound is there. They would love for you to be on their YouTube show.”

The robot picked him up.

“Please don’t, ” whispered Steve, “I don’t even know what this is all about”.

“Not now, Steve. I have to navigate.”

Maybe I can escape somehow, thought Steve. But what use would it be? The video of a robot with a white pointy-headed robot beating up an African-American robot on his behalf was no doubt rocketing its way around the Internet. He could never show his face in public again.

The robot’s jetpack fired up, and it carried Steve straight into the sky.

“You’re not Jewish, are you Steve?”

Steve said nothing as the Klanbot 9000 flew them to Idaho.

In a darkened room, Hebe, President of Schnectady Clown College,watched the video of Steve’s rescue with a great deal of satisfaction. He made a phone call.

“The money’s in your account. Thank you for your assistance. So do the Klan actually have a robot or...”

The voice on the other end of the line cut in, “Please hang up now. We will be calling you with details of your upcoming mission.”

“My mission? What are you talking about?”

“Yo family is under surveillance. If you do anything out of the ordinary, they’re dead. Wait for instructions. You belong to The March of Dimes now.”