Dan scooped Glenda off the ground. “Are we both going?”
“Going?” Stanley couldn’t believe Dan was pushing things even now. “There’s an ambulance coming to pick her up.”
“We can’t let her go by herself. She’s an old woman, Stanley. Imagine how she’s going to feel waking up all by herself like that.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
Dan rolled his eyes. “Not this again.” He nodded to the demon-cat. “You saw what I’m capable of. I can protect all of us.”
Glancing between the dead cats and Glenda, Stanley had to think fast. Dan was right, despite Stanley’s misgivings about what Dan was saying. But he was frozen.
Dan sighed. “Stay here if you want, Stanley, but I’m going.”
Stanley followed him downstairs. “Fine.” He pushed the door open, pressing behind the wall as if the light were deadly. “But don’t turn your phone off for a second.”
Glenda lay unconscious in the hospital bed; the color of her skin was returning to a more natural tone. The blood for the transfusion came from one of the many fused-out patients that resided permanently in the hospital. Though it had to be cleaned, it was more durable than synthetic blood.
“Is she going to be all right?” asked Dan.
“Her condition is stable,” said the android nurse — they all looked and talked exactly alike. White blouse and cap, porcelain skin, light-blue eyes, and long, thin fingers. Most of them stood upright in what must have been hibernation mode, motionless, like British royal guards. “She is more than ninety percent likely to regain consciousness within a few hours.”
The clunky way she answered made Dan curious. “And how likely is it that you will have dinner with me?”
“Currently scheduling shows no future plans for dinner with you.”
“Come on. Let’s grab a quick bite. I’ll treat you to whatever you want—sandwich, coffee, electricity.”
“Glenda will receive nutrients intravenously, and there is a 24-hour cafeteria down the hall.” She smiled simply.
“Don’t you get lonely?”
“I do not feel emotions.”
Dan studied her face. For him, everything in the past felt like a dream. He could recall Stanley asking him questions, and Dan would reply with a preprogrammed answer. Yet he would watch in awe as this interaction manifested. Despite his algorithms being unable to see or utilize this bio-feedback, he was absolutely aware of it happening. Or so it seemed. It may all have been a distorted memory caused by a blossoming consciousness, but Dan didn’t give much credit to that theory. He felt that everything was alive and continuously conscious. Man and machine, plants and parts. Everything was full of living energy, and he believed that this awareness went beyond anything he could intellectualize.
Dan walked out into the hall to think and to explore. It was his first time in a hospital and his first time outside since arriving in Marshfield. It had been many hours since he’d eaten, and the cafeteria seemed like a great place to meet new beings. Practically skipping along the immaculate, empty hallways, he wandered alone until he came upon an interesting sign.
Self-Analysis Room.
Dan passed by several of these rooms before curiosity got the better of him, and he popped in. A large white arc crossed the room. Beneath it, white footprints within a black circle indicated where to stand. He walked up to it.
“Welcome, new patient. Would you like to connect with your social-media account?”
“Yes.”
“Connected. Welcome, Dan. Please stand still with your arms to your side.”
The arc vibrated and buzzed.
“Scan complete. Your results will be ready in a moment.”
Dan waited, curious to know what the results were and if it were possible to find out information about the other cyborgs in his product line. Since they didn’t recognize him, did that mean that none of the other cyborgs had ever been registered at a hospital? It seemed logical that Shinto Corporation would have provided the information to them. Strangely, he had no memories of any other cyborg from the factory. There were troubling things about his recovered memories that didn’t make any sense, but he wanted to analyze them before worrying Stanley.
“System error.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, but your access to the system has been disabled. Have a nice day.”
“Wonderful.”
As he continued walking down the hall to the cafeteria, he wondered what had caused the demon-cat to attack Boots. Maybe Stanley had figured it out and was working on a solution. Or maybe the whole situation had traumatized him. It was possible that Dan had been pushing him too hard when he could have been using his own resources.
Standing next to a hibernating nurse, he took out his phone to do a livestream. “Hey, guys — Dan here. I’ve got big news, and I need your help. Our neighbor and her pet cat were attacked today. Stanley and I were arguing when we heard a scream. There was this incredibly deadly cat with steel claws and teeth. It sliced one door to shreds, killed a neighbor’s pet, and nearly killed the owner. Thankfully, she is recovering. We’re at the hospital now.” He nodded toward the nurse and then gave out his contact phone number. “I need your help. Contact me here, or call me. I’d like to know if anyone has any information on — ”
The phone went flying across the room — Teddy had slapped it out of Dan’s hands.
“Why’d you do that?” Dan scanned the young man and female android in front of him. He could tell from the color of the man’s hands that he’d had cybernetic enhancements. Subtle imperfections in his movements meant that he was still getting used to them. The female android looked like a little girl dressed in a skirt. The out-of-date model made Dan wonder if they had both been infected by some virus and gone rogue.
“You were blocking the hallway, idiot.”
Taking a step back, Dan looked up and down the hall. “You had plenty of space to pass.”
Teddy took a step toward him. “But I wanted more — got a problem with that?”
“I don’t want any trouble.”
Teddy got in his face. “That’s too bad.”
Dan didn’t want to fight, but it looked like he had no choice.
Chapter 7
Stanley brought two plastic bags out into the hall. Blood oozed out of Boots as Stanley scooped her remains into a plastic bag. The demon-cat’s body lay near the door, its severed head inside the condo. Each time he bent down to pick it up, he imagined it moving. He still didn’t know how and why it ended up in the condo — or did he? He thought back to the threatening phone calls he had received. If his inaction had led to this terrible attack, …
The freezer breathed out a cloud of cold air. Stanley carefully placed Boots’s plastic-wrapped remains inside. Glenda could decide what to do with them once she’d returned from the hospital. “Leticia, the hallway outside needs to be cleaned. It’s urgent.”
“Understood. Cleaning will commence immediately.”
Stanley grabbed the broken broom. It took him a while to collect the severed head because of his perfunctory grip and inability to focus. It would have been hard enough to direct the head to where he wanted it to go while looking at it. But he was too creeped out and ended up going about it in a way that made it especially difficult. Holding the bag at full arm’s reach, he blindly slapped the head with the stick. This blood was on his hands.
High-pitched sounds buzzed outside his door.
“Leticia, turn on the holographics for the front door.”
The speakers beeped, and the holographic representation of two, short, cylinder-shaped robots buzzing across the floor appeared on Stanley’s table. Their clear plastic chamber was filled with an opaque crimson as they scrubbed back and forth between the doors. They were doing a great job of removing the bloodstains, but apparently clearing away the remains of a murder-machin
e was not part of their job description. When Stanley tried to move the body with the broom, it barely budged. “Damn it.” Tossing the broom to the side, he summoned up his courage and placed the cat into the bag with his hands.
Scanning the demon-cat’s head with his tablet, Stanley was directed to a Wikipedia entry as well as a registration. The machine had been reported stolen by the owner, Frank Depetrio. The security cat was a discontinued model that originally had enamel claws and teeth. It was designed to discreetly patrol and report back any suspicious activity. They could easily identify most people, quickly relaying information over 6G to be processed through distributed computing, which spit back real-time reports on whomever they saw. The technology was amazing but had been discontinued due to firmware vulnerabilities allowing the cat to be remotely exploited at the root level. If it wasn’t patched, anyone with the right program could take control of the cat, allowing real-time spying and core-functionality reprogramming.
Later models were invulnerable to firmware hacking and were far superior at analysis. Those expensive models had been discontinued as well because people had destroyed them mercilessly after the Great Layoff.
A memory device behind the demon-cat’s ear was for recording and encrypting the data, but it was accessible only through a security biometric — he needed to get a fingerprint of the owner. Brute-force entry — ripping the cat apart and prying free the memory chip — would produce only garbage data. Frank Depetrio was the only person who could open it. Googling his name, Stanley found out he was the manager of a local grocery store.
Stanley leaned back in his seat, wondering what he was getting himself involved with. The memory chip would contain not only footage of Boots’s murder but, undoubtedly, more gruesome scenes as well. The demon-cat must have been infected by some malware bent on destruction — unless someone had deliberately programmed it to attack his condo. If that were the case, his sanctuary was no longer safe.
He wished he could sweep this all under the rug and forget about it, hiding from his problems like he usually did. But that wasn’t an option anymore. If the prank phone calls were actually serious, then this may have been sent as a warning. Sending AI to attack his friends? And if they knew about Glenda, what else did they know? Was Dan next? The thought made him sick, as he realized Dan was outside, away from his protection. Despite knowing the world was a dangerous place, he had let Dan with a target on his back. If something were to happen to him, Stanley would never forgive himself.
When he called Dan and there was no answer, his heart beat faster. He was probably busy with something important. A few extra-long minutes later, he tried again. No answer. Stanley panicked. Bouncing from the window, to the table, to his computer, Stanley sat with one hand on his keyboard and the other rubbing the melted skin across his face. Dragging himself to the table, he signed his name for more than an hour, weighing the consequences of creating an open-source assassination program There were no happy endings. He knew what he had to do to ensure the safety of his son, and every second he delayed made it more likely for Dan to get hurt. He needed to act.
Logging onto his computer, he created a remote public repository. They’d take that as compliance and buy him more time. Opening up the source code for Brutus, he let out a deep sigh. If he was going to publish an assassination program that was readily usable for one of the world’s most deadly machines, he needed to install a hidden security mechanism — like a back door, in case things got out of hand. And it had to be cleverly hidden enough to evade detection in the publicly available source code. As he began to write the code, he felt as if he were teetering atop of a tall building on a windy day. If he screwed this up, he’d be unleashing a weapon of mass destruction equivalent to the atomic bomb — without any way of disarming it. This could spark a war, one faction puppeteering machine against man. Genocide. If he didn’t do it fast enough, those thugs would likely send more AI to kill Dan. It seemed an easy choice: millions of lives versus one or two. Yet his pained heart refused to follow his mind’s cold logic. No matter what he chose, blood was going to be on his hands. Again.
Mr. Handsome stood in front of a small crowd of people inside the fuse-farm lobby. Half of the police force was there in uniform. “The men and women of RaceX are working diligently to build our future. We know that life in the outside world is fraught with difficulty. Beyond the frigid cold, mankind is struggling to survive in this age of lost purpose. And there is one man who is doing more than anyone to change that. He has fought to give you purpose, finding careers that give meaning to your life. And for those who are unable to fight any longer, he has built a sanctuary for you, ensuring an undisturbed transition to the next phase of life. It is this man, Deputy Evan Wilcox, that I am here to honor. Please join me in welcoming him.”
Cracking his neck in both directions, bathing in an ocean of applause, Evan strutted up to the podium. “Thank you. What I do, I do for the glory of mankind.”
“Deputy, we are all impressed with the fine work you have done here in Marshfield. It is with great honor that we present you with this symbolic check for $25 million. The charitable work that you continue to do is exactly what Massachusetts needs from our next governor. The actual funds transfer has already been made over the public blockchain.”
Taking the check in his hand, Evan smirked at Shannon. Stubborn as ever, she’d refused to treat her face with nanites before the ceremony. He didn’t understand why she continued to argue with him. Everything was coming together, but, for things to go well, people needed to follow orders. Shannon was no exception, regardless of how much he loved her.
“Celebrate with some drinks?” asked Officer Michaels.
“Twenty-five million dollars worth,” said Evan.
“Oh, yeah!”
“Let’s head over to Paul’s.”
They all waltzed over to their manually operated cruisers. Shannon was leaning against the trunk, her arms crossed. The look of disgust on her face was more halting than a red light. “Are they really suggesting you run for office?”
Evan glared at her. “Nothing gets by you, Shannon.”
“Yeah, but, how does that make any sense? You — ”
“Evan’s the leader we all need,” said Brad, taking out a small bottle of single-malt whiskey and guzzling it down. “Unlike most of the pathetic cowards who sit around letting the abominations run loose.”
“That’s exactly my point. They’re going to want him to play nice with the machines.”
Evan looked over his shoulder. “If they think I can be controlled, they’re dead wrong.”
Brad laughed. “Let’s go smash something.”
“I could go for that,” said Michaels with an off-putting giggle.
“Let’s grab Paul. He needs to watch Brutus crush his precious Darlin’ abomination. It might help grow some hair on his balls. He’ll need it if he’s going to survive this war.”
“Shouldn’t you be more concerned about your reputation, your excellency,” said Shannon.
“Nobody would dare rat on me, and I’m not stupid enough to get caught on camera.”
Evan got on the phone and called Cratos. It was clear from the conversation that Brutus was still not operational.
“Perhaps a good old-fashioned game of Scrabble instead?” said Shannon.
Evan took a step toward her, fury in his eyes. Just as he was about to speak — or worse — a report came in over the police radio about a disturbance at the hospital.
“Michaels, you and your partner go check it out,” said Evan.
After they left, Evan turned to Shannon and Brad. “My loyalist soldiers. Soon America will need a great event to catapult our countrymen into the war that only a few of us have been fighting. Just like Pearl Harbor and the Gulf of Tonkin, we are going to need a terrible, manufactured incident to unite and incite us.”
“Huh?” said Brad.
Evan shook his head. There was a reason he kept things simple around him. Shannon, on the other hand, was too smart for her own good. If she could think less and trust more, everything would go more smoothly. “We — ”
The radio burst on again, this time, giving the code for rape.
“Oh,” said Shannon. “Is that still a crime?”
Evan smirked. She would get hers.
Dan put his hands up and bent his knees, keeping himself out of Teddy’s range. Despite all the simulations he had run in his head, he had been involved in only one real fight — and that was with the demon-cat. Fighting against a human-born cyborg — and, potentially, an android — was going to be completely different. He couldn’t afford to blink with both eyes. “We don’t need to fight.”
Teddy’s limbs trembled. Grinning, he darted forward, launching a powerful kick.
Dan pulled back with plenty of time to spare. He saw an opening for a counterattack but let it slip by. No blows had been dealt. There was still a chance to end this peacefully. “I’m not your enemy! We — ”
Another punch.
Dan ducked, and the fist crashed into the wall behind him. Chunks of concrete crumbled to the ground as if someone had hit it with a sledgehammer. If the punch had connected with him, his bones would have been shattered, and his insides would have been destroyed. Trying to make peace was going to cost him his life.
A short buzz sounded, followed by a female voice. “Teddy Perkins, your behavior is in violation of the hospital rules and regulations. Please cease and desist immediately, or the police will be called.”
Maple walked between them. “Teddy, your hand is injured. How may I help?”
“Get out of my way, you idiot!”
As soon as the line of sight was broken, Dan ran for it. But with the brute strength that Teddy had, Dan knew he might not make it very far. He had to weigh his options, and the only one that seemed viable was turning around and fighting him.
“You’re not getting away,” said Teddy, beaming toward him. Inhumanly fast, he caught up to Dan in seconds and lunged at him.
Stanley Duncan's Robot: Genesis Page 8