The Preserve

by Ariel S. Winter

  They went on in silence. The island was strangely silent as well, no sound of animals or insects. In fact, Laughton realized that he wasn’t being plagued by insects at all, no mosquitos or gnats. At least there was that. His mind turned to alligators then. They stayed near the water, he reassured himself, not knowing if this was true.

  The degree of darkness to their left lightened, and soon Laughton could see the outline of the trees against the night sky. “What’s over there?” he said.

  “Waterway that cuts through almost half of the island. Marsh all around it. We couldn’t really go that way if we wanted to.”

  “It’s quiet out here,” Laughton said.

  “Strange, isn’t it?”

  “Get used to life on the preserve.”

  “We’re not on the preserve,” Kir said.

  They continued down the road. It was hard to gauge how long they’d been walking. In the dark, it felt like miles, but it probably hadn’t even been one mile.

  “There,” Kir said.

  Laughton squinted as though that would help in the night. “What?”

  “A light.”

  Laughton saw it a minute later. It was more than just a light. It must have been a whole building of lights. “What is it?” he said.

  “Used to be a resort.”

  The sight line opened up to their right, and Laughton realized they were only a few hundred feet from the open water. The resort building looked like two enormous houses joined by an enclosed bridge. One of the buildings was dark, but the ground floor of the other showed lights in all of the windows.

  They stopped at a cluster of palm trees. “Any hot spots?” Laughton said.

  “Can’t tell,” Kir said.

  To the right of the building, a large fenced-in area that had once been tennis courts was currently being used as a helicopter landing pad. Laughton pointed. “We better neutralize that before going in.”

  Kir agreed by heading in that direction. Laughton jogged a few steps to catch up. He felt exposed in the open, but it didn’t seem like there were any lookouts. Why would there be? The island was about as isolated as you could get. Titanium wouldn’t be expecting visitors.

  They circled the tennis courts to the entrance, and crossed to the helicopter. Black tape had been stretched along the helicopter’s side to obscure printed lettering. Chief Laughton picked at the corner of the tape, managing to peel it up with his fingernail. He pulled it off with one long tug to reveal the words “Coast Guard.”

  “Coast Guard?” he said.

  Kir shook his head and shrugged. “Maybe they’re following the same lead we are.”

  “Right,” the chief said with an ironic half smile. “And hiding their identity?”

  “But the Coast Guard? Brandis I would have expected.”

  Laughton closed his eyes to think. If the Coast Guard was here with Titanium…

  He remembered the Sisters said Titanium was moving product through the harbor. The Sisters had the trucking routes under their control, but not the water. If there were patrol boats out…“That’s why Sysigns was the first at the club,” he said. “The Coast Guard is giving Titanium’s shipments protection on the water, probably for a nice percentage.”

  “Or Sysigns is Titanium.”

  “Or that.”

  Kir was silent for a moment as he calculated. “No wonder Sysigns was ready with his blockade.”

  “I don’t know what that has to do with Smythe’s murder,” Laughton said. “And McCardy’s, I guess.”

  Kir pulled open the pilot’s-side door, and hopped up. There was the sound of metal crunching, and when he hopped back down, he dropped a piece of the control panel on the ground. “No one’s taking that anywhere,” he said.

  “And if they are here officially?”

  “HHS will pay for it.”

  Laughton smirked. Sure they would. “Plan?”

  “Lay of the land?”

  Laughton pulled out his gun, released the magazine, and switched it out for the electric tips. They’d hurt humans just as much as regular bullets, but if Sysigns was here, he’d need the electric ones too. He left his holster unsnapped. “Let’s do it,” he said.

  They approached the building with caution, bent at the knees and hunched over. The first floor of the building was actually one flight up, the whole resort built on stilts, as was necessary on an island that no doubt flooded often. A wide porch ran along the front of the building and along one of the sides. The sound of waves crashing in the distance made Laughton feel very far away from home. When was the last time he’d seen the ocean?

  There was no easy way up other than the front stairs. They placed each foot carefully, guarding against the steps’ groans and creaks. Without speaking, they split on the porch, going in opposite directions. Laughton stayed close to the wall, pausing just before each window, then peeking, seeing where he could, some with lights on, some with curtains closed. The rooms were suites, a combined kitchen and living room with bedrooms to either side. He reached the end of the building without having seen anybody. The far half of the complex, across the dark pit of an empty pool, was completely black. Looking out from that height, the wide expanse of the ocean was on view, the moon casting enough light to show the moving water, the stars like an inverted, patterned bowl above.

  Laughton hurried back, not worried about being seen now that he knew the rooms were all empty. Kir wasn’t in sight. He must have rounded the corner to surveil the side porch. Laughton knew he should wait for him, but the complete lack of security so far suggested that Titanium or the Coast Guard or whoever was on the island wasn’t concerned about intruders. He decided to try his luck at the double-door entrance. The doors were unlocked. He opened one just enough to see the room within. It was like a cross between a hotel lobby and a great room at a lodge. It was also empty. He let the door close, and was startled to find Kir right beside him.

  “Two suites that way are occupied,” Kir said. “At least three figures in each, all robots except for one human as near as I can tell.”

  “Guess we should knock and say hi,” Laughton said.

  “It’s only polite, since we’ve come all this way.”

  Laughton pulled out his gun. “Okay,” he said.

  It was quiet inside. The sound of the ocean was no longer audible. Without speaking, they again split up; Laughton went to the right, and Kir headed for the back of the room. It felt good to be working together, the easy, natural way they seemed to be one mind, knowing each other’s rhythms, knowing their roles. So many times they had gone into complicated situations together.

  The hall to the right was clear, which was to be expected. Kir emerged from a door behind what must have been the front desk. He nodded once. It was clear.

  They converged on the left-hand hallway, which led to the suites where Kir had seen the suspects. Laughton tried doorknobs on the inside set of doors, but all were locked, and none opened at the attempted intrusion. They reached the third door, and Kir stopped. “This is it.”

  They looked at each other. Laughton shrugged. Kir knocked.

  There was a pause.

  Then the door opened. It was a robot with a familiar face.

  “You,” Laughton said. He realized now why those robots who had sat down with Jones at K-B’s club were familiar. They were the same robots who had staked out Sam and Smythe’s house. This robot.

  “What—” the off-the-shelf face started, and then pulled back when he saw it wasn’t who he expected, freezing, unable to compute what he should do.

  Kir used the opportunity to push into the suite, Laughton right behind.

  “What is— Kir,” the robot standing in the center of the room said when he saw them. As they suspected, it was Captain Sysigns, the short robot from the Coast Guard. “I didn’t know you were cleared for this base.”

  Kir grinned at the attempt to act as though this was an official stronghold.

  Laughton ignored the robot, however, captivated by the figure
sitting on the couch, a young woman with a bulky exo-suit, the last person he would have expected anywhere near this: Cindy Smythe.

  “You’re in California,” Laughton said to her.

  “I assure you, Chief, I’m not.”

  Laughton remembered Mathews’s comment that it was so hard to find her, she must be a hacker too, and it clicked. “Titanium,” he said.

  “I’m impressed,” she said. “I didn’t think anyone would find us out here.”

  “No one has,” Sysigns said.

  There was a knock on the door, and the off-the-shelf robot answered it, admitting three more robots in Coast Guard uniforms, each the same seven-foot model used by the army. There was a whiz and a buzz, and Kir collapsed, his heavy form hitting the floor with a sharp thud. Laughton flinched. The situation had just gotten very bad.

  Captain Sysigns lowered his arm as the Taser wire that had emerged from his finger began to retract. “Chief Laughton,” Sysigns said. “You might want to put your gun away.”

  “I’d like to hold on to it,” Laughton said.

  Two of the guard robots started to edge into the room. Laughton stepped back so he was almost against the wall, no way for them to get behind him.

  “Captain,” Cindy Smythe said, her brows knit in anger. “What the fuck?”

  “Couldn’t risk any messages out,” Sysigns said, keeping his eyes on Chief Laughton.

  “I have this whole place shielded,” Cindy Smythe said.

  “Any agreement we come to with Chief Laughton will still be valid when Kir wakes up,” Sysigns said.

  Laughton made an effort to ignore all the robots in the room, including Sysigns. “You killed your brother?” he said to Cindy Smythe.

  Smythe’s anger deepened at that, her lips narrowing. “Of course not. Sam killed Carl.”

  “Yeah, we noticed Sam in a boat on the way in.”

  “Sam ended his life the second he killed Carl.”

  And why would Sam kill his closest friend and business partner? Laughton thought. The virus. “Your brother’s the source of the virus, and Sam tried to stop him releasing it.”

  “Carl was always too radical. If he’d told me about the virus, I would have tried to stop him too. Probably why he didn’t tell me. Of course, Sam’s high morals disappeared as soon as he realized we could sell the antivirus to the entire using community.”

  “He tried the Sisters, and then you.”

  “Like anyone would sell the antivirus. It would kill our business if robots felt they couldn’t trust our sims, and we were then going to hold them ransom. No, this needs to go out free.”

  “Enough,” Sysigns said, and stepped toward the chief, who raised his gun.

  “Slowly,” Cindy Smythe said.

  “People know I’m here,” Laughton said.

  “And it turned out Titanium got you,” Sysigns said. “But who’s Titanium?”

  Laughton’s chest was so tight, it was strangling him. He took shallow breaths through his nose.

  “This can still work out for everyone,” Cindy Smythe said.

  “He already shut down a third of our operation,” Sysigns said.

  “I’m not here about the sims,” Laughton said.

  “Tell that to Kawnac-B,” Sysigns said.

  Cindy Smythe stood. The motion was jerky, like low-order robots from earlier generations, the pistons and motors lifting her body, forcing the joints to bend. “You can have Sam,” she said. “Your case is closed—”

  There was a movement at the corner of Laughton’s vision, and he turned, and shot one of the oversize robots as it reached for him. Sysigns must have sent the order to end this his way. The robot went down, blocking the advance of the two behind him, which allowed Laughton to drop each of them. His elbow hurt from the recoil, having shot one-handed. His lungs burned and he felt light-headed. It was pure instinct that caused him to jump back, tripping on Kir’s body, as Sysigns’s Taser uncoiled, the end hitting the wall where Laughton had been standing.

  “Sysigns!” Cindy Smythe barked, holding the robot back, the exo-suit giving her enough strength to hold him. “Get out of here. I have this.”

  “You don’t think shutting us down will be a huge political bargaining chip?” the robot said. “Get Brandis off their backs?”

  “The cure will be enough.”

  Laughton struggled to untangle himself from his partner. He brought up his gun, trying to shoot at the same time, but he ended up just shooting the floor.

  “You wait,” she spat at Laughton, and to Sysigns, “Get out of here.” She had a gun in her hand now.

  The captain looked at the bodies on the floor, and decided it was better to clear out. He started toward the door, but the robot bodies made it difficult to move.

  Laughton was able to get to his feet, but Cindy Smythe had him covered.

  “Don’t, Chief,” she said.

  Sysigns had the door open wide enough for him to leave.

  Laughton watched him go, feeling like he had bungled this whole operation, but at the same time, no longer knowing what the operation was about. He turned to face Titanium, who lowered her weapon.

  “You’ve got the antivirus,” Laughton said.

  “Yes.”

  “So I just let you and Sysigns go?”

  “Will he agree to that?” Titanium said, nodding at the still-disabled robot on the floor.

  “I don’t know that I agree to that.”

  “Which part?”

  At that moment, the Coast Guard robots started to come alive.

  “You better go,” Cindy Smythe said. “No way to change their orders.”

  Laughton looked at Kir. How could he leave him? And Titanium. She’d be gone. The first robot was pushing himself up. “Give the cure to Kir when he wakes up,” he said.

  “Right,” she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. The chief couldn’t tell if she was laughing at the idea of relinquishing the antivirus or the suggestion that she’d still be there when Kir woke up.

  He couldn’t wait to work it out. If he wanted any chance at Sysigns, he had to believe the latter. The antivirus would be good, but a corrupt robot official would be even better. He jetted from the room without another word.

  The chief figured Sysigns had to have gone for the helicopter first. He wondered what time it was, if Mathews already had people on the way. He pulled out his phone, but it wouldn’t come on. The whole building was running interference.

  Outside, the ocean sounded loud. He couldn’t see Sysigns anywhere, but he couldn’t see very far at all. He started down the stairs and then headed in the direction of the helicopter, hoping he wasn’t passing by Sysigns hidden nearby.

  When he got to the helicopter, he found it empty. Sysigns was moving very fast, and he only had one other way off the island—the landing. Laughton started to run. His ankle complained, a gnawing twinge each time his foot landed. His chest began to hurt, the air at the back of his throat feeling impossibly cold.

  He did his best to stay on the road. He recognized that the darkness in front of him wasn’t quite as black as the darkness to either side, and that helped.

  By the time the landing was in sight, Laughton expected to hear a motor start, but he was amazed to find that Sysigns was only just heading down the pier toward the boats. Laughton stopped, and shot, not with any hope that he would hit his target, but that the surprise would stop the robot long enough for Laughton to get to him.

  It worked. The robot turned and saw him.

  And Laughton felt very exposed. At least the moon, reflecting off the water, evened the odds a little, allowing the chief to see, but it wasn’t with the clarity the robot could manage with his night vision and infrared. Laughton squatted next to the nearest post, using it for limited cover. He’d taken four shots in the suite and another warning shot just now. That left him ten rounds in the magazine plus the spare in his pocket, and the regular bullets as well. If he hadn’t taken the Coast Guard captain down before he’d emptied his firs
t magazine, he probably would be dead anyway.

  Laughton crept around the post he was hiding behind, so that he was hanging off the edge of the dock, his toes burning as they stretched to maintain a hold on the three-inch lip of the pier on the water side of the post. The sound of Sysigns’s approach was restrained, a step, a pause, a step. After all, Laughton’s appearance on the pier could only mean he escaped unlikely odds back in the suite, and that meant that the chief was dangerous. Captain Sysigns was duly cautious.

  Laughton’s fingers and toes were now burning so badly that he didn’t think he could maintain his position any longer. And he definitely couldn’t take a shot. He was worried he’d lose hold of his gun, and if that happened, he had no hope of surviving this. He looked down to see that there was a small boat about five feet beneath him. He lowered his gun hand to the boards and let one leg hang down. Then he ran his hand down the pole, praying against splinters, and lowered his other leg so that he was hanging from the edge of the dock, and could step into the boat without a clunk.

  The robot’s steps on the dock were almost even with the chief’s boat.

  All Laughton needed to do was land one shot. One good shot, and the electric shock should shut Sysigns down like it had the robots inside. He took aim, waiting for Sysigns’s silhouette to appear above him. He had this, he told himself. He had this. Provide the cure and shut down a corrupt Coast Guard… the preserve, everyone he knew, was saved.

  Sysigns stepped forward and then he was there. Laughton squeezed the trigger, but Sysigns dodged the shot and jumped for the boat. Laughton took another shot, but the target was moving, and he was too rattled to track it. The shot went wild.

  Laughton struggled to not fall overboard when Sysigns landed in the boat. The next boat was only about two feet away from the one they were in. Laughton stepped over into it, wobbling and waving his hands to maintain his balance as he put all of his weight forward on the foot in the second boat, and turned, taking aim again.

  “You’re dead,” Sysigns said.

  Laughton shot, but the wires of Sysigns’s Taser snaked toward him at the same time. He dodged, and the shot missed its mark. Everything was happening very fast, but it seemed like each moment was crawling by, the whole thing happening under water. Even the sounds felt muted.