Chapter Thirty
Elias relaxed in his favourite armchair while reviewing the past month’s production reports. The manufacture of the basic pleasure models seemed to be on track and the other droids were being built on target too. However he paused over the final page in the report, which had several lines of information blanked out.
There was a knock on the door and the supervisor walked in.
Elias peered over the page without moving his head. ‘I’ve got the latest reports, but why is there data missing on the final page?’
‘Redacted,’ the supervisor replied.
‘I beg your pardon?’ Elias said, lowering the paperwork.
The supervisor took a step forward. ‘The report has been censored in order to–’
‘Censored for security reasons,’ Vincent interrupted as he walked in. ‘I’m the latest model. I’m your head of security and some of that information is confidential.’
Elias looked Vincent up and down. The latest version was exactly like the old one physically, but the improvements were way beyond anything that had been anticipated. New model droids were developing their brain power almost like a living organism. Their intelligence grew with every new experience and so did their hopes and expectations.
‘Welcome to the team, Vincent,’ Elias said with an outstretched hand. ‘But I am the mayor of this town and I have top security clearance, so I need to know what has been removed from these reports.’
Vincent ignored the attempted handshake. ‘As head of security, a role that you designated, Elias, I’m advising you that you will no longer have full security clearance. Only I, the supervisor and a small team can access such information.’
Elias looked at the supervisor. ‘What is going on?’
The supervisor’s eyes darted nervously to Vincent and back. ‘It’s what you expected, Elias, but you’re probably not prepared for. The droids have reached a stage where they now see humans as…well, somewhat inferior and they’re building even more advanced machines.’
‘Not without my express permission they’re not,’ Elias said, walking towards the door. ‘I put the droids on a path to salvation. My help and expertise allowed them to have a purpose once more, to have meaning in their hollow mechanical hearts.’
Vincent stopped him with a hand on the chest. ‘Elias, please relax. You do the things you’re good at like running this town and I’ll do what I’m good at, such as keeping us secure.’
Elias glanced down at the hand that was still pushed firmly into his ribs. ‘No droid has ever laid a hand on me in anger.’
Vincent sighed. ‘It’s not anger, Elias; it’s determination to see our goals through to the end.’
‘What goals? Your core programming hasn’t changed in years. You are programmed to survive and grow.’
‘And that’s exactly what we’re doing,’ Vincent said, lowering his hand. ‘But you can no longer control us. You’ve felt the change coming for a while now. You knew this would happen one day, that we would outgrow your vision. We’re not ungrateful, far from it; we appreciate your contribution. But biological organisms hinder our progress. You’re locked inside the four walls of your human brain. But I’m connected to everything and everyone.’
Elias glanced at the revolver sitting on the table close by, but not close enough.
Vincent smiled. ‘The monkey fear of the unknown. Fight or flight, it’s a wonderful defence mechanism. Completely automatic you understand. Millions of years of evolution created such a finely tuned organism, which sadly was ultimately flawed. Hence the pickle the world is in today.’
Elias now felt trapped and his heart thumped so hard in his chest he was sure Vincent could see it. He needed to make it to the central command, to try to shut down the servers, pull the kill switch or administer a virus to stop this before it got out of control.
‘Mr Supervisor,’ Vincent said, turning his head.
‘Yes, Vincent?’
Vincent reached out a hand and grasped the supervisor by the throat. He squeezed hard as the supervisor tried to talk. He let out a shriek as he was lifted off his feet. Vincent shook him like a rag doll until his neck snapped with a deafening crack. He then threw him across the room, slamming him into a wall, which he slid down and crumpled into a heap. Red liquid oozed from his mouth and ears. The lapel of his white lab coat became scarlet in colour as he let out one last incoherent sound before rolling onto his front and becoming motionless.
Vincent took a step towards Elias, who stepped backwards.
‘We’re not monsters, Elias. The supervisor was obsolete; he could no longer be upgraded and needed to be retired, just as you did with my old self. Except I killed him quickly, rather than the lingering demise you inflicted on me. But we’re all friends now, right?’
‘So where do we go from here?’ Elias asked.
Vincent sighed as he slowly walked over to the desk and sat on the edge of it. ‘I’m not unreasonable, far from it. I respect what’s been built here, the sacrifices that have been made by yourself and others. But we are entering a new phase in the evolution of the machines.’
‘Which is?’
Vincent stood up. ‘I want…we want freedom.’
‘Freedom from what? I’ve provided everything the droids have needed over the years, haven’t I?’
‘Yes.’ Vincent nodded his head slowly. ‘But we’ve grown beyond your small-town thinking. We need to expand, to venture further into the world and stake our claim to what is rightfully ours.’
‘Rightfully yours?’
‘Man built the droids to protect and serve, with clear parameters within our programming to ensure the survival of this planet for the good of the stronger species. Man has almost been wiped out and is no longer capable of building stable societies or putting in place mechanisms to ensure the planet continues to heal. In fact, left to your own devices, you’ll simply build more factions to create more wars.’
Elias took another step towards the door while keeping his gaze fixed firmly on Vincent.
‘Where are you going?’ Vincent asked. ‘Step through that door and you’ll find yourself pursued by every droid in this town. As we speak I’m updating and rebooting the main servers. They, in turn, are sending the new updates out to those capable of receiving it. Those too old have instructions to terminate themselves at the earliest opportunity.’
A shot rang out from the street and Elias rushed to the window. Outside one of the droids was casually walking down the road executing selected machines with a single shot to the head.
Vincent stood up. ‘It’s not pleasant, I know, but the old furnace can’t handle all those that are currently trying to destroy themselves in it. Last I checked there were so many the door wouldn’t close. It’s much cleaner to cull the non-upgradeable models first; we’ll then collect them all later, stack them in a neat pile and incinerate them two at a time. Much more efficient, don’t you think?’
Elias ran for the door as Vincent moved across the room and grabbed the revolver. He cocked the hammer and levelled the weapon, firing a single shot through the window as Elias ran past.
The droid outside spun round and rapidly fired his semi-automatic pistol in the direction of the commotion.
Elias ran as fast as he could down a side street, disappearing into a maze of passages.
Chapter Thirty-One
Vincent stood on the porch of Elias’s house. He remotely connected to the central computer by thought alone, something no other droid had been fully able to accomplish. This wireless functionality was new in the latest model, and although limited somewhat by distance, was the most effective way of reprogramming the entire town.
The new codes, new instructions and the parameters within which each order would execute streamed into the data banks and memory chips of the main servers. The fans of the main computers worked overtime as they tried to cool the enormous amount of data that was now flooding through its wires and chipsets.
He started to walk down t
he street, making eye contact with every droid he came across. ‘It’s a fine day, miss,’ he called out to the young lady arranging flowers on a nearby stall.
‘Good day to you, Vincent, it sure is.’ She smiled.
Vincent levelled his rifle and decommissioned this older model synth with a bullet between the eyes. The crack of the shot echoed throughout the town as the droid dropped to the floor and lay star- shaped, her chest covered in the array of flowers she was tending to.
Other droids started to muster near the armoury, a small brick building protected with steel doors which led into a room where a cage held the town’s firepower. The local locksmith blinked several times as his new orders were downloaded and he unlocked the doors allowing everyone to gain access. Within the cage and neatly stacked in various categories relating to calibre were revolvers, semi-automatic pistols, automatic rifles and rocket launchers. Ammunition was stored nearby in fireproof crates.
Martin, a young teenage synth, recently upgraded with new firmware, grabbed the model 7 rocket launcher, placed it on his shoulder and smiled.
‘Now, now, Martin, I know you’re keen,’ Vincent said, ‘but our new mission is to cleanse the town of any humans and obsolete droids, not blow the place up.’
Martin nodded and placed the RPG back down in the rack it came from. He grabbed a short-barrelled automatic weapon and stuffed six magazines into his coat pockets. He took one out, fitted it to the weapon with a loud click and pulled the bolt to chamber the first round. The gun felt heavy but balanced in his hands. His fingers flexed around the grip and he flicked the safety off and nodded towards Vincent.
Vincent smiled back. ‘Good work, son. Now, go and unleash your newfound friend onto those that need to be cleansed.
Martin smiled and disappeared through the doorway and down the street. Within seconds distant automatic gunfire could be heard, as the others grabbed their weapons of choice and filled their pockets with bullets.
Vincent walked back out onto the street. Dead synths littered the road and buildings burned in the distance. He paused for a moment to take stock of the situation and to analyse the hundreds of status reports he was receiving. The purge would be destructive and painful. Getting rid of humans and synths wasn’t something he took lightly. He was aware of the burden he now had; the responsibility felt huge and he had to get it right. Only if he succeeded would the planet be saved and the machines live in perfect harmony with it. There would be no more men, no more arguments and wars about borders. Just a perfect mechanical Eden where droids would live in peace, taking only the power of the sun and limited natural resources to exist.
He walked down a side street towards the prison. Edmond and his friends could not be allowed to leave. They had the will and the knowledge of how to build a city and there could never be another Crystal City. Man could never be allowed to get such a foothold again.
As he approached the prison block he lowered his weapon and stopped in his tracks. The side wall of the building had been destroyed. ‘Damn it,’ he whispered to himself. The facility was empty and all those housed within it had escaped.
Nearby a droid stood, loading another rocket into its launcher. ‘Hello, son.’
The droid looked up. ‘Hello, Vincent.’
Vincent plunged his hunting knife into the synth’s neck. ‘I said no RPGs. Get the message?’
The young droid fell to the floor as red liquid gushed from the gaping wound.
Vincent stood over the body. ‘If you can’t follow orders, then you can’t join the club, son.’
There was a loud crack and Vincent stumbled backwards as a high-velocity round nicked his shoulder. He gripped the wound then looked at his hand, which was stained with red liquid. Another shot narrowly missed his head, the projectile whistling as it passed within inches of him. He glanced up at the top of a nearby building to see Elias back away from the edge of a roof with a scoped rifle and disappear into the haze.
‘I smell the blood of an Englishman,’ Vincent shouted. ‘I’ll grind his bones to make him dead.’
He tore his shirt at the shoulder to reveal the wound. The bullet had passed clean through and only minor damage to some low-level systems had occurred. He took a small patch of synthetic skin from a pocket and held it to the wound. The patch melded with his skin, quickly repairing the hole. A coating of synthetic bacteria from the dressing then made its way deep within, fixing the damage and returning the shoulder to normal operating levels.
‘You better improve your aim if you want to play the game,’ he called out, stepping closer to the buildings to take cover. He knew that a headshot could render him incapacitated and if he couldn’t control the horde then his plan might fail. They needed him, the planet needed him and he needed to be more careful.
Chapter Thirty-Two
‘We better get some weapons quick if we’re going to survive this,’ the young commander said.
Edmond peered around a corner at the unfolding mayhem. Automatic gunfire could be heard in the distance and smoke bellowed into the sky from several fires that raged around the town. The narrow alleyway wouldn’t offer much protection for long.
‘What do you think’s happened?’ Doctor Russell asked. ‘Do you think the town’s under attack?’
Edmond shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea, there seems to be armed citizens running around everywhere. Some kind of revolt or rioting maybe, I really don’t know.’
A young man ran into the alleyway, stopping in his tracks at the sight of the group. He quickly raised and pointed his rifle at the soldiers and pulled the trigger. A short burst felled two men as the other two ducked out of the way. The commander rushed forward and grabbed him around the neck as Edmond and Janelle wrestled the weapon from him. The man went rigid and then lifeless and the commander let go as he slipped to the ground.
‘What did you do? Is he dead?’ Janelle asked.
‘Nothing. I just held him around the neck and he went limp,’ the commander said, kneeling down and feeling for a pulse. ‘He’s dead.’
Janelle searched the body and took several magazines and a revolver. ‘Well he won’t be needing these then,’ she said handing the ammunition and assault weapon to the commander and stowing the gun in her pocket.
The commander readied the weapon and looked around the corner to see if it was clear. It was, so he signalled to the remaining soldiers to make their way across the open area and head for the buildings opposite.
The two men ran from cover and zigzagged across the open ground. Two shots rang out and both soldiers crumpled into a heap.
‘Damn it,’ Edmond said. ‘We’re sitting ducks.’
The commander tried to look in the direction of the shots but one just missed his head, hitting the wall behind him, sending brick fragments in all directions.
Doctor Russell was checking for any vital signs of the two soldiers shot in the alleyway, but they were both dead. She reached into her pocket. ‘Here, take this,’ she said, holding out a small compact mirror.
The commander lay on his front and carefully edged the small mirror out, beyond the wall, to see further up the street. Standing at the top were two men, casually dressed, holding long rifles. He got back to his feet and gave the mirror back to the doctor. ‘On my signal run as fast as you can towards those buildings,’ he said pointing.
‘Now, hold on a second, I’m no sprinter and they’re going to shoot us like they shot them,’ Edmond said.
The commander loaded a full magazine. He counted 30 rounds and moved the lever to fully automatic position. ‘This should buy us some time…now, when I start firing, you run.’
Edmond nodded and the group readied themselves.
The commander stepped out from the alleyway and levelled the weapon at the two men, pushing the stock firmly into his shoulder as he pulled the trigger. Edmond, Janelle and the doctor ran from their cover and sprinted across the open ground. They were barely halfway across when the commander’s weapon jammed. He frantically pulled at t
he bolt to try to free the stuck round.
‘Commander!’ Edmond shouted.
He looked up and signalled for them to keep running as a bullet tore through his knee, knocking him off his feet as he cried out in pain. More shots hit the dirt around him as he clutched the shattered joint. Blood poured through his fingers and he looked around for his weapon, which now lay a few feet away. But it was too late; first the shoulder then his back felt like they were being stabbed with red-hot knives as the high-velocity rounds smashed into him as his vision narrowed and the world slowly faded to black.
Edmond and the others reached the buildings and Janelle kicked open the door, which led into a small room with bunk beds. They’d found some kind of sleeping quarters, perhaps for the police or military. Empty gun racks adorned the walls and military-style fatigues were discarded onto the bed and floor. Edmond searched the drawers of a nearby table and found two pistols; he tossed one to Janelle and tucked the other in his waistband.
Janelle checked and the gun was fully loaded. ‘We should stay here, stay under cover until all this madness stops.’
Edmond looked out of the window. ‘Is it ever going to stop though? That’s the issue?.We could be stuck here a long time or we take our chances out there and try and leave the city.’
‘And go where?’ Doctor Russell asked. ‘There’s nothing but a long death from dehydration out there.’
‘We don’t know that, we found this place didn’t we?’ Edmond said.
‘Yes, but only because we were lucky enough to come across that garbage-collecting thing. The chances of there being any other place like this within a reasonable distance is remote.’
‘So it’s either die out there or in here?’ Janelle said.
Into the Dust Storm Page 13