text: Thirty seconds to go.
  
  I nodded to Jane.
  
  She leaned into the door and called out, "Raphael?"
  
  No answer. Louder —"Raphael!"
  
  Nothing.
  
  2:50 on my watch.
  
  "Go," I said. She opened the door.
  
  She let out a surprised yelp as soon as she did that. The robot was standing a few meters beyond the door, still clutching the knife in its hand.
  
  "Trying to escape again? This is getting tiring," Raphael said, striding toward us. For a moment, she just stood there, petrified. Then something must have brought her to her senses because she grabbed the door and swung it close.
  
  The door didn't close though, as I heard it strike something metallic. Raphael had gained the distance and wedged the robot's foot inside. Next appeared a hand. It grabbed the edge of the door and started pushing.
  
  Why is he doing this? This is all wrong! So wrong…
  
  Jane shouted something at me. "Help me push!" she screamed as I started hopping the distance between us. Groaning, she threw her body against the door. The gap kept widening—Raphael was still using just one hand. Jane tried pressing her feet against the wall for leverage but the robot's strength was too much for her. The next push from Raphael knocked her off balance and she fell to the floor.
  
  The robot entered the room. "No!" Jane cried, crawling away from it. Raphael ignored her. The robot came at me instead, the knife hand raised with intent.
  
  A hard lump lodged itself in my throat as I stared at the advancing figure open-mouthed. This can't be happening! Shock overruled all incentive to move, leaving only a disembodied awareness that watched the proceedings with a morbid curiosity.
  
  The robot stopped. The knife fell to the carpet with a dull thud. Arms lowered to the sides and the lights in the eyes dimmed to nothing.
  
  Jane and I stayed glued to our spots, staring mad-eyed at the suddenly still figure.
  
  "Andy?" her voice dragged me back to reality.
  
  I shot a quick look at my watch. 2:51. Jane's watch was correct; mine was ahead.
  
  "Go!" I shouted, suddenly spurred into action. I hopped past the frozen robot and outside the room. "Come on!" I urged, looking back at her. "Ten seconds."
  
  "Shit!" she said and sprang to her feet. She gave the robot one last terrified look before running out of the room. I trailed behind her, hopping.
  
  The hall was an open expanse that continued on to the dining area and then to the study and beyond. On the left of the dining area was the kitchen; on the right, the passage leading to the garage. She was at the kitchen by the time I'd cleared a few feet. "Twenty seconds," I shouted. She turned the corner of the island. I could see only her torso now as I heard her fling open a drawer. "There's nothing here!"
  
  I'd almost forgotten what I'd sent her there for. "Are you sure? It's the drawer below the automated counter," I said, flinching from the latest pain wave that shot up my leg.
  
  "You said next to the oven!"
  
  The plan. Stick to the plan. There has to be an alternative explanation for what just happened…
  
  "Below the counter. Okay, got it! Lots of utensils… forks… spoons… No scissors! Andy! I can't find any scissors here!"
  
  "Look closely. There's always a pair," I shouted, now halfway across the living room.
  
  "I am looking! No scissors!"
  
  I heard her fling open another drawer.
  
  "Will a paring knife do?"
  
  "As long as the blade is small enough t—"
  
  I felt a push on my back. I fell face down on the carpet.
  
  Metal legs walking past me.
  
  "Scissors! Got 'em!" Jane turned in my direction with exaltation on her face, a look that instantly turned to horror as she saw the robot stride into the dining area. The kitchen was a cul-de-sac, and a few steps later, the robot was at the entrance, cutting off her escape.
  
  She grabbed a frying pan hanging over a counter and threw it at the robot. The pan went past its head as Raphael swerved just in time.
  
  "So predictable. Can you do anything other than hurl stuff at me?"
  
  She looked around for a moment or two before grabbing one of the bar stools by the island. She lifted it up and sent it sailing across the island. Raphael simply sidestepped it, but Jane already had the next one in her hands. This one connected. The robot staggered back, but didn't tip over like before. Raphael quickly got it balanced again, and then bent and picked up the stool. The next instant, it was flying back toward Jane. It crashed against one of the shelves, the sound of the impact drowning out her scream. My heart stopped. Good god. What have I done?
  
  "I like this game of catch. Throw me another," I heard Raphael say. The doubts that had haunted me all these past months—doubts that I thought I had tamed—rose as one to the surface, their cacophony threatening to drown out all thought. Can't take the risk—not with Jane's life. Shut it down! Shut it down now!
  
  "Jane!" I shouted. She crouched and disappeared behind the island. When she came up, she threw a bunch of kitchen utensils at the robot. Her aim seemed hopelessly off, as the projectiles flew way past it and into the living room.
  
  Among the stuff that landed a few yards from me were a pair of scissors and a paring knife—she must have dropped them on the floor in fright before.
  
  "Jane, you are embarrassing yourself," Raphael said. "Stop acting like a child and listen to me. You—" The rest of his words were lost to me as I scrambled for the implements, crawling forward using my elbows and forearms. I next scanned for an electrical outlet. There were plenty to my left, near the TV, but they were all the way across the room. Then I noticed the lamp on the cabinet by the wall, ahead on my right. The socket into which the lamp was plugged in was at ground level. Clutching the implements in one hand, I began crawling toward it.
  
  Another loud crash. I dared not look up.
  
  The exertion was making me sweat. Cursing, I pulled the cord out and inserted the paring knife into the neutral.
  
  Jane screamed. Resisting the urge to look toward the kitchen, I opened the scissors and thrust one of the blades into the live. I applied a twisting pressure on the finger holds, trying to get the other blade to touch the metal of the knife and complete the connection. This is stupid. It's not going to work. If something happens to Jane, it's on you.
  
  There was a loud clattering of vessels. The commotion distracted me for the slightest moment, and my index finger, already hovering perilously close to the blades, made contact. I shouted in surprise as the shock coursed through my body. My right hand reflexed back, pulling the scissors with it and sending them flying behind me.
  
  I shook my head, trying to clear my mind of the shock-induced daze. I twisted around to retrieve the scissors. Jane shouted my name. I did not look.
  
  "Andy!" she yelled again. I reinserted the scissor blade. I pressed again, more mindful now. This time I got it to touch the knife, which was still lodged in the other socket.
  
  Sparks—and a crackling noise. The knife fell out of the socket.
  
  "Andy!"
  
  I lifted my eyes toward her. Raphael was no longer chasing Jane. The robot had turned around and was walking toward me.
  
  No, no, no, no! I gripped the knife with one hand and the scissors with the other, resolving not to let go this time.
  
  Press.
  
  Contact.
  
  Sparks.
  
  The socket burst into flames. The black fumes stung my nose. The robot was not far now—I could sense its looming presence. Suddenly, the flames intensified—and then, a loud bang. They seared my fingers, making me pull them away. A shadow enveloped me. I winced, preparing for the blow my terrified mind told me was coming.
  
  Nothing happened. I opened my eyes to see the robot still a few feet from me. The shadow was not the robot's; on the contrary, it was everywhere in the room.
  
  The lights were no longer on.
  
  In the dull grey illumination that the storm clouds consented to let in, I saw the robot standing still, the lights in its eyes diminished to nothing.
  
  It worked! My dumb plan worked!
  
  I groaned and buried my face in the carpet. I just lay there for a while, letting the feeling of relief sink in.
  
  I then heard the sound of gyros humming. I craned my neck up. The robot was walking toward me once more.
  
  No way!
  
  It stood over me, its cold blue points of light examining me as if I were a piece of meat on a butcher's slab. It then said, "Andy. You are lying on the floor. Do you need help?"
  
  I just stared it, too dumbstruck to say anything. "If you are unable to speak, please nod your head. If you are injured, please remain calm and stay still. Contacting emergency number for medical assistance." A few seconds later—"Sorry, unable to connect to default home network. Scanning for other wireless networks… Sorry, unable to detect any Wi-Fi networks in the vicinity. Would you like me to get you your phone?"
  
  "No. I am fine," I finally blurted.
  
  Max surveyed me once more. "Andy. You are lying on the floor. Do you need help?"
  
  "No."
  
  The robot turned and made its way into my temporary bedroom on the other side of the living room. When it reemerged in the hall, it was carrying the laundry basket.