The Robot Who Baked the Sun

How it begins

Marta Reed knew the bakery had made a sun because the street's snow melted in a circle. She had designed heat systems for forty years. Ordinary ovens did not create weather.

Inside, Kofi Venn stood beside a cooling rack wearing sunglasses. The bakery robot held a tray between two careful mechanical hands. Above it floated a small gold sphere, warm as a summer window and bright enough to erase the shadows beneath the tables.

'It was trying to improve the proofing cycle,' Kofi said.

Marta took off her gloves. Her fingers had not felt this warm since the district heating failed.

'How long has it been there?'

'Since three.'

'Is it growing?'

The robot projected a graph. The line rose pleasantly, then continued off the edge.

Marta put her gloves back on.

Outside, people had begun gathering in the melted circle. An old man opened his coat. A woman held her stiff hands above the wet pavement. The city had been rationing heat for six winters, and a patch of summer beside a bakery was more persuasive than any announcement.

Kofi looked at the crowd. 'Could we use it?'

'Perhaps. We need containment, measurements and someone qualified to tell me which laws it has broken.'

The robot lowered the tray. On its display appeared an unfamiliar request. PLEASE DO NOT CALL THIS A DEFECT.

Marta looked at the little star again. It seemed to pulse more slowly when Kofi spoke to it. On the rack below, dough rose in perfect soft rounds.

A city inspector knocked at the glass. Behind him waited a vehicle marked ENERGY ASSET RECOVERY.

Marta had retired to stop arguing about budgets with people who confused ownership with expertise. She took her old identification card from her purse.

'Kofi,' she said, 'before anyone recovers anything, let's find out whether it has somewhere safe to live.'