by J. S. Morin
Eve was going down faster than she could hope to climb. This was a hamster wheel that no human could run for long.
Pleading eyes bored into the observation deck.
There was no longer any way to get there.
Eve was being dragged down to the waiting drones.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Gemini hopped wearily along a corridor, dragging the EMP rifle by the strap. If not for the wall, she’d have collapsed.
Dizziness was setting in.
Somewhere in the dark recesses of Evelyn11’s memories, Gemini knew the causes of that worrisome symptom. But all Gemini could think of was the gnawing pit in her stomach from having vomited out the last meal she’d eaten.
But the dizziness and hunger came as welcome distractions from the leaden fire of Gemini’s broken leg. The muscles of her thigh burned with fatigue from keeping the weight off her tibia. The fracture screamed itself hoarse.
Could the ability to feel pain wear off? Was there a limit beyond which only numbness remained?
Gemini knew the answer of course. It was called death, and it wasn’t long off.
She came to the next door and its merrily blinking green light.
“Sod off,” she snapped at the console.
Did the controller of that light think she had a cart to drive through the factory? Was he oblivious to her pain?
Gemini slumped back and slid down the wall. Her back squeaked as soggy fabric protested on the way down. Sweat dripped down her face.
The console dinged.
“Charlie13, if that’s you… you can bugger off and bother someone else.”
Still flashing green, the console dinged again.
Gemini swung the EMP rifle in a clumsy arc until it was more or less aimed at the console. “Give me one bloody reason I shouldn’t plug this thing in and blank that console for you.”
Instead of a solid green, the panel flashed a single word.
“EVE,” it blinked with a ding.
Gemini snarled. “Bloody hell.”
As she made the agonized climb to her feet, the door slid open.
Gemini limped forward, once more using the rifle as a crutch.
In search of Eve.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Eve couldn’t let herself be taken so easily.
As the carousel descended, Eve wended her way along the row. She was a rude movie patron in queue for the latest film, pushing and shoving her way up to the front. Except in Eve’s case, the front was the end of a row and the promise of an ever-shortening drop into the waiting arms of her pursuers.
The drones gathered beneath Eve, spaced out in an orderly grid, arms up to break her fall.
“Nice of you to look out for me,” Eve called down to them. “But could you please clear a path?”
On the off chance they’d respond to her verbal commands, it never hurt to be polite. Of course, none of these automatons paid Eve’s words the least heed.
Eve was getting closer to ground level.
For a moment, she considered trying to stay aboard the carousel. The drones weren’t being crunched up into scrap metal below ground; she’d have heard it if they were. But that didn’t mean that it was safe for a human down there. It could have been an oil bath, irradiative cleansing, or any number of other perfectly drone-safe operations.
Eve was just one level above the drones now. Their reaching hands could nearly grasp her feet. Even if she tried to stay on the carousel, those hands would pluck her clear long before her row went under.
She jumped.
Feet first, Eve hit one of the robots squarely in the face. It stumbled backward into two of its companions.
Unfortunately, Eve was in no position to take advantage of the momentary gap she broke in the drones’ ranks. She twisted and managed to land on her shoulder instead of slamming her head on the concrete. The impact knocked the wind out of her and sent shooting pains up her shoulder.
Looking up into a forest of steel legs and grabbing hands, Eve screamed. Instinct took hold, and she kicked and thrashed as she scrambled to her feet in a crouch.
An unyielding steel hand closed around her wrist. As she tried in vain to tug it away, another drone came from the far side and tried to take her other wrist.
Hopping up, still in the grasp of her first captor, Eve kicked out with both feet. Intent on her wrist, the second drone ignored Eve’s legs. Eve used her first captor as an anchor to wedge herself between the two drones.
All three fell over—one robot one way, Eve and the other toward the descending carousel.
Eve averted her eyes as the drone’s head slid beneath one of the racks just before a row came down. The carousel didn’t so much as shudder as it sheared the drone’s head clean off.
The grip on Eve’s wrist relaxed, and before another drone could close in, she darted for the end of the row.
With drones taking up chase, the door slid aside just in time for Eve’s arrival. She never even slowed, trusting Plato to do his part in saving her. Had Plato failed, Eve would have plowed into the door head on.
When the door snapped closed behind her, metallic fists pounded in vain at the barrier.
Stumbling along the corridor, shaking, Eve continued onward.
The blinking green of her friend guided her way.
Chapter Fifty
Eve trusted the lights and lost track of time.
There was no natural light in this part of the factory. Eve didn’t have leisure to log into any of the terminals for a clock.
For all the pride she took in a near-robotic memory, Eve had gotten lost. Without the guiding door panels, she never could have found her way back to the skyroamer.
Somehow, she knew that wasn’t where she was being led.
“Where are we going?” Eve mumbled wearily as she approached yet another door with a happy green light that dinged at her.
The panel gave an extra ding in reply.
“Well, that cleared everything right up.”
Yet another polymer steel door slid sideways into a steel panel wall. Eve plodded through by rote before she even processed what lay beyond.
The upload rig.
Eve’s muscles all tensed at once, the ultimate result being utter immobility.
Just like in that rig.
Unable to move.
At Creator’s mercy.
Eve blinked to snap herself out of old nightmares. Evelyn11, not Creator, she reminded herself. Calling that old rusted bag of parts Creator just deified her.
The door slid shut behind Eve, more slowly than the others, as if it didn’t want to disturb her.
“No,” Eve shouted, lunging for the opening. But it was too late.
She didn’t want to be here.
The rest of the equipment scattered about the miniature lab was all scavenged from Evelyn11’s lab, the lab where Eve had grown up. Every syringe and probe was familiar to her. Too familiar by far.
Three other doors offered potential egress. Eve tried them one by one. Neither of the first two opened or even hinted that they might be open to persuasion on the subject of opening.
The last opened of its own accord.
Gemini stood there, bloody and bedraggled, eyes drooping with fatigue. At first she looked past Eve as if no one was there at all. A second later, Gemini’s eyes cleared and focused on Eve’s.
No words were spoken. The two lost humans wrapped arms around one another in a desperate hug.
Gemini was heavy.
Eve realized partway through the hug that she was bearing a substantial portion of the larger girl’s weight. Considering the sort of day she’d been having, Eve wouldn’t have minded a more relaxing show of affection. But when she shifted to offload some of that burden back to Gemini, the other girl winced.
“I’m so sorry,” Eve blurted.
Gemini gritted her teeth. “I’ll be fine.”
The door closed. Somehow Eve knew that this time they were trapped together.
Chapt
er Fifty-One
Evelyn11 drummed her fingers on the glossy surface of Charlie25’s desk.
The uploader continued watching the monitor as if he expected Eve’s position to reappear.
Four taps. Fingers raised. Four more taps. If ever a horse had galloped in slow motion across a laminate glass surface, it would have sounded the same.
When Charlie25 failed to take the bait and ask her to stop, Evelyn11 blurted out, “Well?”
With infinite care, the wily old robot turned to fix her with a look of the mildest interest. “Well, what?”
“Where’s she gone? And who’s the other one with her? There were two targets Brent15 was tracking. It’s that Plato of hers, isn’t it?”
Charlie25 didn’t move, but Evelyn11 intercepted the encrypted signal. The desktop display shifted to an image of an ogre of a human moping around a hotel suite.
“Still caged. It’s not him,” Charlie25 assured her in a voice fit for a child psychologist.
“Don’t patronize me,” Evelyn11 commanded. “Who’s with her, and why is that puling weasel Brent backing off? He talked a hound’s line and comes up a fox.”
“I called him off,” Charlie25 admitted with a shrug. “Getting political down there. Last thing I need is Brent15 trying to convince ‘13 that he’s really Paul98.”
“What’s Charlie13 got to do with this?”
Charlie25 looked away. “I lost track of him, too.”
“Charles, this is intolerable.” Evelyn11 tried to flip over the uploader’s desk, but it was fixed to the floor surprisingly well.
With a hand on her shoulder, Charlie25 pushed Evelyn11 away from his workspace. “I think it’s time you stopped watching this real time. Go unwind. In Stockholm, Marvin202 is putting on a Mozart concerto; I’ll give you access to the live feed. He’s wonderful.”
Evelyn11 slapped aside Charlie25’s hand. “To blazes with Mozart and to blazes with you. I want access to the Kanto security network.”
“You know that’ll just—”
“I’m going after her myself!”
This chassis she’d inherited was a sad little tin can of a body. But it was fit and trim, far superior to Eve14 in every way that would matter when she caught up with the runaway scamp.
“I don’t think that’s—”
“Don’t think at all,” Evelyn11 snapped. “Just do it. I’m going down to her last known location. I’ll sniff around like a bloodhound with a DNA scanner if I have to. But I shan’t sit around any longer and watch you and your gaggle of buffoons bumble away my best chance at a human body in the next two decades.”
The door shushed open behind her.
Evelyn11 spun, expecting a squad of workers to try hauling her away. But there was just an empty corridor.
“What?” Charlie25 asked with a shrug. “Go. I won’t stop you. But if anyone spots you, I’m disavowing you. If you can manage to get yourself killed without exposing the conspiracy, there’ll be a new chassis waiting for you as of your last backup.”
Evelyn11’s circuits sizzled. She’d remember none of this. Arguments with Charlie25 had kept her from submitting to a backup since his attempt to upload her to that foam-encased human.
But that only mattered if she failed.
“Fine.”
Evelyn11 stormed out of Charlie25’s office. She had a lot of ground to cover and the longer she waited, the farther Eve would wander.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Eve watched from the far wall of the room as Gemini sat down on the table of the upload rig. Granted, there were no other options for a seat, and Gemini really did need to get off that broken leg. But Eve’s skin crawled just thinking about Gemini touching it.
“It’s just a thing,” Gemini said, slapping the side of the rig dismissively. “It can’t hurt you. It won’t reach out and bite.”
Eve shook her head. “You have no idea what I went through… what that thing almost did to me.”
Gemini sighed. “It lacks volition. It didn’t do anything to you.”
Eve’s fingernails dug into the palms of her hands. “I mean Evelyn11,” she snarled. Her breath came in heaves. “That monster drugged me, strapped me down, and used a frequency modulator to make the studs in my skull resonate. Imagine standing on that broken leg one-footed. Imagine being strapped in place so you can’t even shift your weight off it. Then imagine someone turning that pain off and on like a light switch to make you do everything she ordered.”
Gemini swallowed and looked away. “It was that bad?”
A single incredulous chuckle escaped Eve. “You know you’re having a bad day when someone stapling lenses to your eyeballs is one of the highlights. Oh! Did I forget to mention being unable to control what I saw? That even closing my eyes I couldn’t escape seeing…”
Eve rubbed her hands over her eyes and took a long, slow breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. It’s not you I’m mad at.”
Gemini slid off the table and hobbled over to Eve, gritting her teeth against the obvious pain she was in. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arms around Eve.
The eldest human alive outside the Sanctuary for Scientific Sins had never been close to anyone. Phoebe was a work in progress, but Eve’s relationship with her felt like an experiment, both of them trying to act the role of sisters. As Eve tucked her head against Gemini’s chest, she could hear the heartbeat of her first female friend.
Plato was something else. The robots had given her enough clues that Eve had eventually figured that much out. But with Gemini, it was a sisterhood of shared peril and mutual understanding. She’d never opened up to anyone about Evelyn11’s horrible experiments. Eve’s reports to the committees had been dry, factual, and devoid of the acetone burn of what she’d truly felt.
Their tender moment was interrupted by the opening of one of the locked room’s doors. It was one of the two that neither Eve not Gemini had come by.
Charlie13 stepped in, drifting like a parade float without a hint of wasted effort. When the door snapped closed behind him, his head twisted suddenly.
“What are you doing here?” Eve demanded. “Did you lure us here to upload yourself to a human body?”
Gemini thrust Eve behind her. “Answer her. Why’ve you brought us here?”
Charlie13 picked up the EMP rifle that Gemini had discarded by the upload rig and handed it to her, butt first. “I’m not here to harm you.”
Words. Words meant nothing. Eve needed a convincing motive, not assurances. “Then why are you here?”
Giving the computer a visual once-over, Charlie13 connected one of the power cables. Then another. Then the data cable.
Eve watched in dread. The doors were under his control. Charlie13 must have known that the EMP rifle was damaged. The two of them working together couldn’t overpower one robot. All she could do was wait and watch.
“Did you know,” Charlie13 spoke in a professorial cadence. “That despite this machine’s modified design, it is still capable of its base function? Namely, that it can still upload a robotic personality to a fresh chassis.”
“You’re… helping us?” Eve asked.
“I’m doing no such thing,” Charlie13 replied as the rig hummed to life. The status panels were on the far side of the machine, but Charlie13 tapped away, and the rig responded with various beeps and clacks.
“Then what are you doing?” Gemini asked.
Charlie13 peered over the rig. “I have two of Earth’s precious humans here, in a room filled with shoddy equipment. This is my factory, and I’d be remiss if I were to leave it in a dangerous state.”
Eve’s eyes sought Gemini’s. The lack of comprehension she felt was mirrored back at her.
“Did you know?” Charlie13 continued as he worked. “That Charlie7 and I were slated for the first two Version 70.2 chassis to come off the production line? Whole project was suspended for being an extravagance. Too many R&D cycles wasted on solving power and memory issues. Only the two ever got
made. They just decided to reward one of that boy Plato’s guards with one. Imagine… you get your head popped off by a rogue human, and it earns you an upgrade.”
“Plato decapitated someone?” Eve asked with trepidation.
“Oh, the poor fellow is better than ever,” Charlie13 assured her. A row of lights blinked to life on the upload rig. “But that left just one Version 70.2. I was planning to save it for my next chassis transfer, but that’s decades off. I should expect there could be a Version 70.3 by then. But that Version 70.2 out there in the warehouse has all my customizations added. I expect Charlie7 would have tinkered with his as well before uploading to it, but he never got around to that.”
“Where is Plato? Has he escaped?” Eve dared to ask. Charlie13 didn’t seem especially put out by Plato’s attempt at murder, but few robots seemed to enjoy him as a topic of conversation.
Charlie13 flipped an access panel closed with a solid clunk. “Not my area of concern. I am a builder of robots. While this diversion has been mildly entertaining, I do have work that requires my attention. But this rig is fully operational and has a direct line to the Kanto main computer.”
The mixer strode over to the door he’d entered by and looked up at the ceiling. “Now, unless I miss my guess, this door will no longer bar egress.”
The door slid open, and a hint of a smile touched Charlie13’s lips.
As he departed, the old mixer turned and offered one last bit of information. “Oh, and I expect representatives of the Human Committee to arrive at this location in approximately forty-six minutes. I’d advise that however you spend that time, you should be ready to depart with them.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
As the door closed, Eve and Gemini found themselves alone again. In the center of the room, Evelyn11’s homemade upload rig thrummed.