by Beth Martin
He could barely keep hold of her seat as the plane tossed about. “What should we do?!” he yelled. She had flown in an airplane before, and he hoped she would have a better idea than anything he could come up with.
“Uh, I guess…” Her speech was slurred. “Fuck, we’re going to die!” She started to sob, crumpling forward and covering her face.
He had no idea how to get out of the airplane, but even if he did, he was pretty sure that free falling meant guaranteed death. All he could think to do was buckle up the seatbelts and hope for the best. He reached around Leona and found the two sides of her restraint and fastened them. Then, he got back in his seat, securing himself amid the turmoil.
He glanced out the window to see the landscape rushing at him, and then the airplane smashed into the ground.
8
ROEMELL'S BODY FLUNG forward, but was held back at his hips and chest by the seat belt. All around him was a cacophony of crushing metal as his limbs were flung around like a rag doll. The force of the crash jammed the restraints against his chest, forcing all the air out of his lungs and making a sickening crack sound. The plane had fallen to its side, the blue expanse of sky filling his window. He hung limply, still attached to his seat. His stomach heaved again, and he spat out another mouthful of bile.
Leona groaned from her seat. Long grass pressed against her now shattered window. She unbuckled her seat, and then fell into the pile of glass shards. “Ow,” she said as she rolled over. “Am I dead?”
“No,” he replied, his voice scratchy after throwing up so many times.
“I feel like I should be.” She tried to get up to her feet, holding onto the armrest of her chair, but only managed to stumble and fell back onto the wall. “Benobot!”
“The robots aren’t working.” He carefully unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed down, then helped Leona get up to her feet. She had a gash on her left cheek and arm, but otherwise looked okay. “Are you all right?”
“No, I’m not all right! I’m supposed to be at the capital. Instead, I was just in a fucking plane crash! How am I going to get there now?”
He let out a heavy sigh. Of course, the first thing she would mention was the trial. Even though she was wobbling on her feet, she looked like she’d be fine once she sobered up a little. “I don’t know. I don’t think we’ll make it—not in time, at least.”
Tears leaked from her eyes. After an emotional few days and the traumatic experience of almost dying in a crash, Roemell didn’t have the patience to deal with another meltdown. His body was wired from adrenaline, but he knew it would soon wear off. He needed to concentrate on their immediate safety, not Leona’s feelings or the trial. “Look, I know you’re upset, but we need to focus on the present. Like, how the hell do we get out of this plane?”
She crossed her arms and turned away from him as much as she could in the tight space. “How about the exit?” she said, her tone sharp and sarcastic. They both looked over to the main door. The built-in staircase was crushed against the ground.
“I’ll try climbing out a window.” He looked at the line of small circular openings facing the sky. Two of them had a square seam surrounding the window with a red arrow at the top. Carefully using the seats to climb the plane, he made his way to one of the unique openings. The arrow was next to a handle. He gave it a sharp pull, and it made a loud clunking sound. He tried to push at the window, but it wouldn’t budge. Climbing a little higher, he braced his feet against the armrest of a seat, then pushed up with his legs while pressing his hands against the glass. The entire section of the wall came free and clattered down outside the plane into the long grass.
He climbed through the opening and was greeted by sweet-smelling fresh air. Crouching next to the square hole, he called, “Come on,” as loud as his bile worn throat could handle. Leona clambered up the seats, and Roemell held a hand through the hole. “You’re almost there. Grab my hand.”
She continued to climb, ignoring him until she was close enough to lift her head through the square opening. “I can get it myself.”
With a shrug, he said, “Have it your way,” and then slid down the body of the craft, landing hard on his feet. He watched as Leona struggled to pull herself out of the plane. She pressed her face and chest against the exterior of the craft and lifted one leg out. As she tried to get the other leg through, she slipped against the smooth paneling and fell from the side of the plane. Her limbs flailed before she slammed into the ground.
Her ungraceful descent made Roemell chuckle, a movement which caused his chest ache, but he still asked, “Are you all right?”
She rolled onto her back. There were green stains all over her thermal shirt. “I’m fine.” She coughed, then sat up. “What the hell happened?”
How drunk was she? “You fell.”
“I know that,” she spat. “I mean, why did the plane even crash? That only happens if you’re dumb enough to fly during a thunderstorm or if it’s a person piloting the plane.”
He held out a hand. This time she took it, and he helped her up to her feet. “The robots just stopped working,” he said. “It was like they ran out of power.”
“There’s no way.” She shook her head. “Something as sophisticated as an android uses a lot of power, but a charge lasts way longer than a couple days. And both of them stopping at the same time can’t be a coincidence.”
He crossed his arms. “You think something else stopped the robots?”
She shrugged off the question, then looked around at their surrounding for a moment. “Where are we?”
He took a look around, surprised he hadn’t thought to ask the same thing. They were standing in a square plot of long grass, which was lined on one side by a dilapidated road and on the three other sides by rows of tall plants. “Is that corn?” he asked, mostly to himself. He walked up to the closest stalk and examined it closely. It had both large rough leaves and big fat buds growing out of the central stalk. He tore away the layers of leaves protecting one of the fruits to reveal perfect, pearly white rows of kernels. It looked like corn, but it was late spring—there was no way the stalks could have matured this early in the year. “I think we’re in the Midwest.”
Leona hadn’t followed him, and instead was leaning against the side of the crashed plane. “What’s that mean?” she called out.
“That’s what the middle part of the former United States used to be called. There’s fertile soil and lots of sun. Also, I think the area gets more rain than back home. Lots of grains were grown there.”
She pushed away from the vessel and walked toward him. “When? Like, a long time ago?”
“Yeah.” He rubbed his chin, trying to figure out what was going on. When he was a kid, one of the places his family stayed had once been a public library. While living there, he had devoured as many books as he could, including one on agricultural history. With the rise of robots had come the fall of the now obsolete middle and working class. The US population, both rich and poor, had migrated to the coastlines, leaving everything between the Rocky and Appalachian Mountains deserted. This place was definitely nowhere near the coast, and someone, or something, had clearly cultivated this land.
Leona ripped one of the ears off the stalk and pulled it apart. “This is corn? I’ve never seen it growing on a plant before.”
“Didn’t you have some on your estate?”
“No.” She continued tearing pieces off the cob until it was naked before tossing it onto the ground. “We purchased all of our grains from Extensive Table Company. They had the lamest ads. Buy everything you need at etc.”
A rustling sound came from not too far away, and her eyes widened. “Something’s coming!” Roemell whispered. “Quick, we need to hide.”
They scurried between two rows of plants and crouched low to the ground. Footsteps came closer and closer until a figure walked into the square clearing. It strode toward the crashed vessel. “Shit,” Roemell said quietly. “It’s a security bot.”
�
��Then we need to go talk to it and ask where we are.”
“No,” he hissed, holding out an arm to keep her from stepping out and exposing their position. “These robots shoot to kill. They definitely won’t take the time to answer questions.”
“Well, what are we supposed to do?” she hissed.
“Stay quiet!”
They watched as the droid examined the wreckage, circling around it twice before pausing. Then it stopped, and a green light shone from its chest as its head began turning in a full circle.
“Fuck,” Roemell swore under his breath. “It’s scanning. We need to move!” Once they were detected, the pair were as good as dead. Their only chance was to get to the roadway. If it was a public road, they might be safe by simply not being on private property. But if the road was part of the farm property, well, he didn’t want to entertain that idea.
Before Leona could protest, he jumped up and grabbed her arm, dragging her out of their hiding space and leading her back into the clearing. “Run!” he shouted as he dashed through the open area, pulling her hand as she half ran, half stumbled through the tall grass.
“Stop, trespassers,” the robot commanded. Roemell glanced back just long enough to see the bot raise a taser gun and pull the trigger. The probes shot out, making a whistling sound as they rushed through the air.
“Watch out!” he yelled as he dove to the side, knocking over Leona. He wrapped his arms around her and they rolled onto the ground while the probes sailed through the air above them before landing harmlessly in the grass. Roemell had evaded security bots countless times while living on the streets, so he knew it would only be a matter of seconds before the robot would have the next shot ready. “The road!” It was only a few feet away, so he tumbled into a somersault while Leona scrambled next to him.
Once they were on the road, the bot lowered its weapon. “Target out of range,” it declared. Leona and Roemell crouched on the roadway and watched what happened next. Little yellow lights blinked on the robot’s head, and then a minute later, two more security bots emerged from the adjacent field and joined it. One had some sort of tool which it held up to the plane’s exterior. It made a loud crack sound, then shot out a blindingly bright light. It moved the laser cutter along the side of the plane, easily slicing through the body. Once the android had cut out a doorway, the other bots helped it remove the piece of carbon-fiber fuselage, and all three went inside.
“Maybe they can get Benobot back up and running,” Leona said. Roemell shushed her again. The only sound he could make out was the steps of rubber soles coming from inside the cabin. The security bots were being eerily quiet. But then, they didn’t need to talk out loud in order to communicate with each other.
A minute later, the trio of robots exited the wreckage and soundlessly walked back into the adjacent field, where they disappeared from view. Leona stood up and took a minute to stretch her legs. “You think they’ll come back?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
“Those bots? No, but they’ll send some other machines to strip the plane of anything useful and clear out this area.”
“Let’s get out of here.” He got up from his less-than-comfortable crouching position, but before he could walk down the road, she grabbed his arm.
“Wait,” she said. “We should stay here a little longer. They’ll want to reanimate our robots and get information on why the plane crashed. I’d like to know, too.”
“I doubt they’ll bother charging a couple of dead androids—”
“Yes, they will,” she cut in. She placed her hands on her hips, and a serious expression crossed her face. With the fresh cuts from the glass, she looked almost menacing. “That’s protocol. Machines are incredibly predictable.”
He shrugged. “Fine. We’ll wait.” He plopped down onto the ground, sitting on the pavement and facing the plane. Although he crossed his arms and tried to look annoyed, he had no idea what to do next and needed some time to think of a plan. She took a seat a few paces away from him, glanced at him briefly, and then studied the plane crash with her full attention.
Sure enough, a new fleet of machines came next. None of these looked even remotely humanoid. Two large yellow vehicles with heavy robotic arms lifted the remains of the airplane and hauled it away. Then, three smaller bots which looked like giant, four-foot spiders picked through the grass and removed every speck of debris.
Leona crept closer to the clearing, her brows furrowed. “No, this can’t be right.”
He let out a grunt, immediately regretting the action as pain seared through his injured chest.
“I’m serious! I swear, they’re supposed to reanimate and question any androids, then download the flight data before clearing the area.”
“Maybe these robots are running off of a different script.”
She sighed and laid back against the pavement. They remained there in silence for a moment. A breeze trickled through the fields, rustling the leaves of all the plants, bringing with it the scent of flowering trees and manure. “What now?” she asked, turning her head to look at him.
“I have no idea.”
9
AS THEY WALKED through what felt like the hundredth field in an endless expanse of agriculture, Leona cursed herself for falling asleep during the flight. If she had been able to see a bird’s-eye view of the landscape from cruising altitude, she’d probably have a better idea of where they had crash landed. She didn’t trust Roemell’s rough time estimate of three hours in flight. He still looked a little green, and she figured his constant flight sickness probably made the journey feel longer than the actual amount of time that had elapsed.
They had been walking for an hour without uttering a word to each other when Roemell finally broke the silence. “You know, if we had stayed, this never would have happened.”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. That hadn’t been an option, not in her mind.
“Even if we make it to the capital, what are we supposed to do when we get there?” he asked.
“We’ll testify against Tina, just like we planned.”
He let out a sharp exhale, then groaned as he gingerly placed a hand on his side. Instead of making a snide remark, he continued walking in silence. The walls of corn lining both sides of the road abruptly ended, and in front of them stretched a large clearing. He stopped short, and she walked past him to get a better view.
The worn path stretched in front of them, the asphalt patched and repatched in many places. To one side of the narrow road stood a couple silos and an enormous structure. The word ‘barn’ popped in her mind, but this was not a simple red building for housing cattle. What lay ahead was bigger and taller than any of the storage facilities that had been on the Poole Estate. It was easily 50 feet high with sides clad in black painted boards and a large sloping roof of corrugated metal topping the looming warehouse.
The building was so massive, she almost didn’t notice the humble wooden sign posted on the other side of the road. In peeling paint was a cartoonish farmer wearing overalls and a straw hat with a long piece of wheat hanging out of his mouth. Underneath the farmer were the words, “Farmer Joe’s Sunflower Estate.”
“Sunflower?” she murmured. “Well, that’s dumb. All I saw was corn.”
“Shit,” Roemell said while attempting to kick one of the corn stalks.
She glanced at him and saw his features twisted in agitation. “What’s wrong?”
He exhaled slowly through his teeth. “The sunflower state. We’re in former Kansas.”
Not sure what that meant, she tilted her head and said, “Then you know where we are. Isn’t that a good thing?”
He wiped his hands over his face and let out a frustrated groan. “I thought for sure we had gone farther than that. We’re pretty much half-way between coasts.”
“Then we’ll travel east until we hit the capital. No big deal.”
He shook his head and clenched his hands into fists. “It is a big deal. The continent is some twenty-five hundred
miles across. That puts us at least a thousand miles away from our destination. On foot, that would take well over a month. Maybe two or three.”
His frustration suddenly made sense. She grasped his arm. “A month? We don’t have that long! The trial starts in just a few days.”
“I know!” he shouted, tugging away from her grasp. “And judging by that sign and the change in road condition, this is a private path and we’re trespassing on some person’s property. As soon as a robot finds us, we’re dead, end of story.”
She could feel her chest tightening as breathing became more and more difficult. “What are we going to do? I need to testify! If I don’t, then Tina will go free. My dad won’t get justice. Everything we’ve been through will be for nothing…” Her mind raced through all the terrible things that would happen if they didn’t get a chance to talk to the prosecutor. “She’ll get out of jail! She’ll keep burning down estates. Tina will single-handedly destroy the entire West Coast.” She could barely catch her breath as the world wobbled out of focus. “We have to stop her. We have to—”
• • •
Leona’s eyes shot open and she looked around her. Where was she? Something soft with an earthy smell laid underneath her, and blue sky was above her. Slowly, pieces of her memory came back to her. The plane. The crash.
Roemell’s face leaned into her view, his head a silhouette against the bright sun. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she asserted as she pushed herself up into a seated position. The dilapidated wooden sign depicting an old-timey farmer brought the rest of her memory in focus.
“You need water. And something to eat.”
She didn’t have the energy to come up with a sarcastic retort and simply nodded in agreement.
“We could eat some of the leaves,” he said, gesturing to the cornfield behind them, “or we could sneak into the storage facility and see if there’s some food in there.”
With his help, she slowly got up from the ground and stood. She had a splitting headache, which she assumed was from falling over. Although, there was also the possibility she was hungover. She was certainly dehydrated, and the thought of drinking fresh, cool water bottled from a mountain spring was delightful. “I’m not desperate enough to start eating leaves.”