by J. S. Morin
Bargain…?
What did Eve have to offer?
A quick scramble brought Eve back to Gemini’s resting spot against the wall. Her friend was panting, dripping sweat, and barely holding on. But Eve didn’t need her help; she just needed Gemini to hold still while she searched the tiny pockets of her cargo pants.
Gemini’s lolling head allowed her to watch. “Won’t do you any good,” she mumbled as Eve slipped a knife from its pocket.
“Stay back!” Eve ordered, holding the little blade out toward the impostor robot.
“Eve, I didn’t raise an idiot. You know better.” That voice. That manner. The wagging finger. Everything reminded Eve of Evelyn11. That plodding, inexorable pace continued as the robot smiled condescendingly.
But if this were truly Evelyn11, there would be one sure way to catch her attention.
Eve brought the knife up to her own throat. “I said stay back!”
“Or what? You’ll kill yourself?” Evelyn11 chuckled. “I don’t believe it for a second.”
Eve held the blade higher, wincing as she felt a thin trickle of blood. “What’ve I got to lose? I’m dead if you take me. I know my options; a quick death will be easier.”
Evelyn11 paused and tapped a finger against her lip.
A reprieve? Eve allowed a shallow sigh of skeptical relief.
“All right. How about this? I’ll let you have this body.”
Eve blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I’ll copy your brain instead of simply erasing it. We can upload you to this spare chassis.”
Eve blinked again. Those words refused to enter her cerebral cortex for processing.
A robot? Eve?
She’d spent enough time contemplating the thought of a robot becoming her that the reverse had never entered her thinking. Most of the robots didn’t seem to mind being the way they were.
Then again, most robots were painstakingly mixed by Charlie13. Eve had heard stories of the high self-termination rates among the earlier mixes. Would Eve fare any better?
“Or, I could just kill this one,” Evelyn11 said, extending a hand toward Gemini as the latter hopped ineffectually backward to avoid her. “Then I’ll just wrestle that blade away from you and do whatever I like. You only get anything out of this deal if you save me trouble.”
“Don’t do it!” Gemini warned. “She won’t honor any agreement you make. Trust me!”
“Plus you’ll leave my friend alone,” Eve countered, ignoring the warning. Even if she didn’t save herself, maybe she could at least save Gemini.
“Very well, then,” Evelyn11 said in an instant. Her smile was victorious.
At that moment, Gemini showed Eve something of the fire that she’d admired in Plato. Despite barely being able to move, Gemini lurched from her position against the wall and blocked Evelyn11’s path.
“I won’t let you.”
Evelyn11 looked to the ceiling. “How did we ever avoid extinction as long as we did?” Then, with casual ease, backhanded Gemini, throwing her against the wall the way Phoebe treated her discarded laundry.
“No!”
Eve dove to cover Gemini’s body before the robot could do anything further to hurt her.
“I won’t count this against our deal,” Evelyn11 said as she extended a hand toward Eve.
Just then, the door that had previously barred Eve’s path slid open of its own accord. Standing just beyond was an imposing robot in a Version 70.2 chassis, holding Gemini’s EMP rifle.
The Version 70.2 raised the weapon and aimed it squarely at Evelyn11’s head.
“Time for a new deal.”
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Eve watched as the Version 70.2 strode confidently into the hallway. The matte black polymer steel lacked the shine that gave many robots their allure. This robot’s exterior wasn’t just polish and shine over a rotted core.
“Who are you?” Evelyn11 demanded with a tremor in her voice. She backed away from Eve, eyes never straying from the weapon.
“Don’t you… what the…? Bear… with… me… just… ah, there we go.” Each time the Version 70.2 paused, his voice came back different than before. When it finally settled, a thrill of recognition shot through Eve like a cold shower after a long day.
“Charlie!” Eve shouted. She yearned to rush over and engulf him in a hug. But not only would she have hung off his new, massive frame like a tree-climbing child, there were more important matters at hand.
“It can’t be,” Evelyn11 muttered in disbelief. “You were destroyed. This is just a baseline copy of Charlie7, or someone programmed you with that sneering voice of his.”
“Sneering?” Charlie asked. He looked to Eve. “I don’t sneer, do I?”
Eve shook her head.
“See? And this one’s got the deceptive instincts of a nun,” Charlie said casually. Eve imagined that it was easy to act casual as the only armed person in the room.
Except that Charlie wasn’t really armed. He just thought he was.
Eve tried to use the direction of her gaze to draw the new Charlie’s attention to the damaged power supply on the side of the EMP rifle. Lids held wide, she looked intently from Charlie’s eyes to the side of the rifle and back again, hoping to catch his attention.
Broken… bro-ken, she mouthed silently.
“Who are you working for?” Evelyn11 demanded.
Charlie chuckled. “Nobody. I’m retired.”
Eve’s eyes nearly dropped from their sockets. “Wait? You’re not Charlie42?”
Gemini gazed up from beneath a bloody brow from where Evelyn11 had struck her. “That’s him, all right,” she whispered.
“But… but how?” Eve asked.
Charlie7 took a step forward as Evelyn11 backed away. “Oh, I’m not the only one with backup plans. Mine was just a little more convoluted.”
Evelyn11 shook her head in denial. “No. You’re Brent. Brent55, that’s who you are. You’ll regret playing me for the fool.”
“Brent55, huh?” Charlie7 echoed. “So that’s who ended up with my chassis. I really hope ‘13 isn’t sore that I’ve got the custom job he’s been tinkering with for five plus years, but I’m not about to give it back.”
Evelyn11 belched a forced, mirthless chuckle. “Well, if you are who you claim to be, you won’t fire that thing. You tricked the little scamp into murdering me, which only goes to prove you didn’t have the servos to do it yourself.”
“We’ll see about that,” Charlie7 said, sighting down the rifle’s barrel.
Eve tucked an arm close to her body where Evelyn11 couldn’t see it and pointed urgently at the side of the rifle.
Finally, Charlie7 twisted the weapon and saw what Eve had been trying to show him.
Evelyn11 saw as well.
As soon as Charlie7’s attention was on the rifle instead of her, the old geneticist in the shabby new chassis turned and fled.
“Don’t let her get away,” Gemini gasped. “She’ll send Charlie25’s drones after us.”
“No, she won’t,” Charlie7 replied. Tilting the EMP rifle back to rest on one shoulder, he knelt to examine the downed human. “I’m jamming broadcasts in this sector of the factory.”
Gemini squeezed her eyes shut. “But Charlie25—”
“Didn’t build this place,” Charlie7 cut in. “Now let’s have a look at that leg. I’m no Ashley. Sorry if this hurts.”
Gemini cried out as Charlie7 ran fingers along her lower right leg but held still for the cursory examination.
“Without a med kit I can’t say for certain, but it feels like one fracture, non-displaced. Plenty of swelling, but you don’t seem to be losing blood.”
“Can you help get her out of here?” Eve asked.
Charlie7 stood. “Sadly, that wouldn’t be a good idea. The Human Committee is on the way. I have three minutes before they notice I’m here. You need to keep me a secret for now.”
No. Eve couldn’t possibly do that. After all the trouble she’d gone to in
finding and activating Charlie7, he needed to help. “But you just came back. We have to—”
Charlie7 interrupted with an upraised hand. “I promise, everything will work out. But not if we blunder into things. Besides, look at me.”
The new Charlie7 in his spotless new Version 70.2 chassis spread his arms.
“You look scary to me,” Eve admitted. “I wouldn’t want you chasing me.”
Charlie7 lifted his arms to the ceiling in exasperation; he was tall enough that his fingertips brushed the overhead light panels. “I’m naked,” he exclaimed. “You two are human, so it’s not the same. But if another robot saw me like this? It would be hard to take me seriously.”
Shrugging out of her black leatherette jacket, Eve handed the garment to Charlie7.
The robot looked down at it, then at Eve. “New puzzle. Envision a way for a jacket designed for a petite women’s chassis to fit over this Version 70.2.”
With a sigh, Eve hugged the jacket close. “I suppose not.”
Charlie7’s eyes stared off into nothingness. “I’ve got to go,” he muttered. “They’re almost here.”
Eve rose to stop him, to grab Charlie7 by the arm and stop 254 kilos of robot from leaving her behind. A hand clutching her ankle stopped Eve before she took her first step.
Gemini’s eyes were barely open. “Let him go. Your plan worked. Let it work.”
Charlie7 took a step toward the door, then paused. In two quick steps, he had Eve in his arms. “Don’t worry,” he whispered.
Eve didn’t try to lock her arms around Charlie7 and anchor him to the floor. She wanted to. Some small part of her needed to. But who could she trust if not Charlie7? She had to let him go.
Tears welled in Eve’s eyes as the door closed behind Charlie7.
As a herd of pounding footsteps grew louder from the other direction, Eve quickly wiped her eyes and huddled over Gemini.
Chapter Sixty
The clamor of footsteps petered out like the final rocky clatter of an avalanche. Muffled voices argued using indecipherable words from the far side of the door.
Gemini looked up with urgency into Eve’s eyes, pain momentarily shunted aside to pass along a plea for protection.
Eve hesitated, then gave a twitch of a nod.
Something had been bothering her about Gemini. The robot who had raised her might have given her strange notions and odd speech patterns, but this seemed to go beyond that.
When Phoebe or Olivia got flustered, their competence dwindled; the younger girls often cried.
When circumstances were more desperate, Gemini developed almost supernatural intuition and acted with self-assurance that Plato would have envied. That Gemini had been copied from common stock with Plato had been reason enough for Eve to grant the benefit of the doubt.
Now that relief was in sight, Eve’s own thoughts came together more clearly.
Gemini knew too much.
All the robots gushed over how quick-witted and intelligent Eve was, but connecting the Version 70.2 chassis to the upload rig had flummoxed her. It wasn’t an insurmountable task; it just required experimentation and discovery in lieu of proper instructions.
Gemini flew through the cable wiring with hardly a hitch of uncertainty. And the myriad options for the upload itself had flashed past as fast as Eve could read them.
A hiss and crackle of a plasma cutter snapped to life. In seconds, a red glow peeked through the wall beside the door console. It seemed that whoever had come to rescue them didn’t have control over the factory’s computers.
Eve bent down and kissed Gemini on the forehead. There was a spot clean of the trickle of blood from when Evelyn11 had struck her. Maybe Gemini had been forced to work in the lab that created her. Maybe, like Plato, she had raided such laboratories in the past.
If Gemini had some more sinister reason for hiding her knowledge, Eve would refuse to believe it until there was proof. So many of the stories she’d read and movies she’d watched in her brief excursion into freedom had hinged on mistaken assumptions. She swore not to be so careless.
“It’ll be all right,” Eve whispered.
The plasma torch winked out after drawing a vertical line separating the door console from its partner door.
The door grated open and slammed into the wall with a crash. Robots Eve didn’t recognized swarmed in.
From somewhere beyond the mechanical herd, Eve heard Nora109’s voice call out to her. “Eve, I’m sorry. I told them—”
A dart stuck into the fleshy part of Eve’s upper arm. Whatever else Nora109 might have been saying was lost in a drowsy haze as slumber rushed up to claim her.
Chapter Sixty-One
Eve awoke in bed.
It wasn’t her bed.
The room had a familiar look, being similar in style to the quarters she shared with Phoebe. A short walk to the wall-sized window granted a view of the countryside below, confirming Eve’s suspicion that she was back aboard the hovership.
Eve was clean and dressed. Gone without a trace were the jeans and jacket from Plato’s cloth-o-matic. Instead, she wore the muted gray of her everyday school clothes.
The few minor scrapes and scratches Eve had acquired throughout her adventure were covered in a clear, rubbery gloss of spray-on medical sealant. Skin beneath the layer of cured adhesive itched, but no amount of picking at it could penetrate the surface.
“Hello?” Eve called out.
Standing in the center of the room, she let her eyes do the searching, looking for cameras to address directly.
Her room was bare white. Anything she was meant to sit or lie on was puffy and plush. Everything else was glossy and cold. The door was barely discernible from the surrounding wall, and there was no console to control it.
In fact, now that Eve gave it due consideration, there was nothing in the room at all for her to access. Even the lavatory cubby appeared to be entirely automated.
Eve’s breath quickened at the sense of being trapped. Years in a laboratory had accustomed her to a small territory. This room of hers was a tenth the size of Evelyn11’s lab. And even her worst, most boring day in the lab was filled with puzzles and obstacle courses.
“Hello?” Eve tried a little louder. “I’m awake now. Can someone come let me out?”
A camera lens peeked out at her from the corner where walls and ceiling met. The glint of its reflection shone just differently enough for the gleaming white wall for her to catch sight of it.
“I know you’re watching. I want to know what’s going on.”
The faint whoosh of an air circulator was the only sound that carried in the wake of Eve’s demand.
Eve paced the room, fidgeting with her hands.
What were they planning? Had Charlie25 captured her after all? What if it wasn’t the Human Committee that held her captive?
Had something gone horribly wrong while she was unconscious?
Eve desperately missed Phoebe. Theirs was a room so much like this one that the absence of her younger sister was like a hole carved out of Eve’s heart.
Gemini.
Events of the past few days came rushing back. The fog of her sedative-induced coma cleared. Eve remembered running through a factory that felt like an underground cavern, combing the tunnels of an ancient subway system and breaking into Plato’s old hideout.
Eve remembered the dead robots.
Oh.
Her new friend Gemini was paranoid to the point of shooting anyone who threatened her safety. Three robots were dead because of Gemini, and Eve was an accomplice.
Running away wasn’t a crime no matter how badly the robots might have wanted her to stay. Stealing a skyroamer would have been viewed as a prank. After all, there was no shortage of transportation on Earth. But murder. That was a crime even in a world whose only laws were committee edicts.
Eve didn’t feel like a murderer.
The thought didn’t open any doors, nor would it ever.
Stalking over to the door, Ev
e pounded her fists against the unyielding glossy polymer steel. “Open up. I’m not a murderer. You have no right to—”
The door slid open, and Eve stumbled back. Nora109 breezed in, and the door shut before Eve could even contemplate making a break for it.
“Hush, dear,” Nora109 said briskly. “We’ll get this all cleared up tomorrow.”
“What’s tomorrow?” Eve asked. She cursed herself inwardly for allowing curiosity to steal the edge from her outrage. Did the robots all know this trick to use on her or just Nora109?
“There’s a hearing on the Dangerous Human designation for you and your new friend.”
Nora109 carried a bundle that she laid out on the bed. Drab gray cloth unfolded into a suit that Eve estimated was just her size. Then Nora109 added a pale pink blouse, stockings, and all the accoutrements that went on beneath.
The last addition, Eve picked up and dangled from a finger each. “These shoes aren’t level.”
“Practice walking around in them,” Nora109 advised. “They’re traditional. But if you can’t manage, we’ll find you something easier.”
“And this?” Eve asked, setting down the high heels and holding forth the matching skirt accusingly. “You know I don’t like non-bifurcated lower-wear. They lead to—”
“—unwelcome breezes where breezes don’t belong,” Nora109 finished for her with a huff. The robot tugged the skirt from Eve’s hands. “I’ll get you matching slacks instead.”
“Why the strange outfit?” Eve asked. “I didn’t dress like a robot for my other committee duties.”
“You weren’t trying to convince them not to lock you up as a hazard to the general populace, either.”
Eve blinked. “Excuse me?”
Plato had been characterized a dangerous human, and he’d been one vote shy of getting himself executed. Without Eve voting, Eve’s rescuer would most likely be dead.
Nora109 pulled Eve into a hug. “Don’t fret. I’m sure we’ll get everything sorted out. I’m acting as your advocate for the proceedings, and I think we can safely place the blame on this Gemini person.”