Myths & Magic: A Science Fiction and Fantasy Collection

by Kerry Adrienne

  “What do you say, Charlie?” Blake turned Charlie’s attention back to him. “Can you help us out?”

  There was only one answer. Even if there was another, this would not be the time to try it out. “Of course.”

  Blake smiled wider and leaned back. “Good!” He patted Charlie on the shoulder (hard.) “Trust me, when this is all over, I will make sure your dreams come true. I will make sure you will live for hundreds of years and with unlimited money. You will be able to do as you please.”

  Okay, Charlie thought, that was the best pitch yet.

  Blake turned to the sharply dressed man. “Mr. Relic here will fill you in on all the details. Warren, see to it.”

  Warren nodded. He would see it done.

  Charlie winced at a sudden movement. Jade’s anger boiled over. It was hot, and it was fierce. She moved in whirlwind speed at Warren. “You bastard!”

  Monfils, who had stood on the other side, had seen this coming and was in front of Warren in a flash. Warren, for his part, did not react one iota.

  It was Charlie and Blake who reacted the most. Both jumped back from the fray as fast as they could.

  Jade pushed Monfils’s hands aside, freeing up Warren. “You sent Genesis to kill us! To kill Charlie!”

  Warren looked on in (mock) shock at the accusation. It was convincing.

  Jade swung hard at Warren. Monfils moved to protect him from the blow but it was too late. Her fist flew at his face and…mere inches away it was stopped by a strong black hand. Jade turned to see an eight-foot robot of sheer black beside her.

  Genesis.

  “Whatever do you mean, Jade?” Warren said evenly and coldly. “Genesis is right here by my side, where he belongs.”

  Jade struggled to get free from his grasp but was unable to. She looked at the robot again. It looked like Genesis, but she knew it wasn’t. The eye slit was slightly wider, his arms slightly skinnier. “That’s not Genesis.”

  “Come now, Jade.” Warren gave a pitying smile. “You know how many opalum PBs exist in this world.”

  “Enough!” Blake stopped everyone in their tracks. “In front of our honored guest, no less. We will discuss this later!”

  Genesis (if it was indeed Genesis) let go and Jade relaxed slightly. But only slightly.

  Blake turned to Charlie. “I do apologize.” He waved to the city, the monitors and the destruction from the battle of the day. “It’s been a long day for us, so you’ll have to excuse us. We are generally much more cordial.” He said “cordial” with a sneer, directed at both Jade and Warren.”

  Charlie nodded, unsure. “Of course, I understand.”

  Blake nodded back. “Good,” he said with a small grin. “I just knew you would.”

  Charlie looked one more time at all the faces in front of him, thick with tension. No one seemed to be having a good time. The future was not looking good.

  Warren stepped into the Situation Room, eyeing the men across the table. He sat down easily in Blake’s exotic leather chair. He pushed a button and out came a glass of 22nd century Corsica. The wine’s bubbles rapidly rose to the top. It was, by accounts from eight of the thirteen most respected wine journals in the city, the finest drink in existence.

  Warren took a small sip. “Would you like a drink?” When he didn’t get an answer, he shrugged. “You don’t get an opportunity to try a Corsica unless, well unless you are me, really.” He took another small sip.

  Across from Warren sat Monfils and a young-looking kid with long hair, Dustin. He had the classic young-hot-shot-programming-genius-that-didn’t-care-how-smart-he-was-just-about-his-angst look.

  Dustin spoke up. “I’ll have a shot.”

  Warren didn’t respond. “You know how I got to where I am today? I’m a human, yet I recognize my own race’s worst enemy is succumbing to emotions. That’s the problem with these rebels. Bots don’t have emotions, but they also aren’t good at adapting to the moment. That’s why hybridization is such a good solution. If only we can perfect it.”

  Monfils looked up at Warren and nodded. “I don’t like doing business with you any more than I have to. But this disease is killing my people. We have over five million infected and we both need this to stop.”

  “Agreed,” Warren nodded. “We all know just Charlie isn’t the answer. There were problems with the hybrid technology from the get-go. Now is the time to perfect it, not take a technological leap backwards.”

  “So, what do we do now?”

  “I have been working on that for quite some time, Monfils. I just need you to keep Jade out of my way. And keep this Charlie fellow from messing with the code we are creating. Keep Blake focused on the rebel Lowsmiths. We have more important wars to be fighting.”

  Monfils nodded. “In return?”

  “In return, I save your people.”

  Monfils nodded. But he wanted more.

  “And,” Warren conceded. “And when I am a member of the newly perfected hybrid race, you will have a seat at the table. You will no longer be indentured to the House of Crowley, I promise you that.”

  Monfils nodded. Hesitant, but agreeing. “Anything else?”

  “No.” Warren nodded to the doorway. Monfils looked around suspiciously, rose, and headed for the door.

  Dustin lifted an eyebrow to Warren. “You trust him?”

  “Of course not,” Warren laughed. He poured a glass of Corsica and handed it to the boy. “But I don’t trust anyone.”

  Dustin was taken aback. “Moi?!” They laughed.

  “You asked for a shot of Corsica, the most expensive liquor in the world.” Warren took a small sip of the wine as Dustin stopped short. The kid was about to drink it all in one gulp before the comment.

  Warren stood and went to one of the hundreds of monitors in the small room. He gazed at the ruined south wall, the bodies of the Lowsmiths in the streets, and the bodies of sick hybrids in the quarantine wings of the medical center. Things were proceeding nicely.

  Warren Relic, currently the second most powerful man in the city of Crowley, and 48th worldwide, was moving up fast. Warren Relic, who was once born to simple parents who surely never tasted Corsica or resided in the walls of the richest city in the world. The city where hybrid technology was at the forefront of reinventing the world.

  A world he would one day control.

  “So, Dustin, how close are you to being the prodigy everyone says you are?”

  “I am that prodigy. And lest you forget that you are asking me to solve the most complicated code ever written.”

  “And you will be paid royally for it. Don’t let me down.”

  Warren motioned for Dustin to leave. Dustin downed his drink in one giant expensive gulp.

  Dustin slowed as he reached the door. “Still,” he said to Warren. “I need what Charlie has in his bag.”

  Warren didn’t turn. “I know. Don’t worry.”

  Dustin exited the Warren pushed a button and another bottle of Corsica sprang up. Everything was working out nicely. He had tried to thwart the mission to bring Charlie back, but in a fortunate turn of events, he failed. Now the original code, the missing pieces he could fit into the gaps of his improved version, came to him wrapped nicely in a backpack.

  Now the code was going to be his to control.

  Now the hybrids would be his to control. With one simple command.

  Now the city was going to be his to control. The Lowsmiths would be no more. Blake, no more. Warren Relic was about to

  Chapter 12

  Charlie was tired. It had been a long few days/centuries. He also realized that when he left it was night, and when he got to this day of age it was morning so…. he lost his train of thought.

  He was exhausted.

  Still, there were things to do before he could mercifully sleep. With Jade by his side, they made their way into the lobby of a sleek, state of the art building; The Advanced Health, Mechanical and Hybrid Sciences Pavilion.

  Jade needed to see Angelo. To get Angelo
back. But also, she needed to see the effects of the hybrid plague. More importantly, she needed Charlie to see it. It wasn’t so easy, though. There was very tight restriction on hybrid contact these days.

  A receptionist bot came to greet them, almost human in appearance, but with the distinct diamond-shaped metallic brand on her cheek all bots were required to have. She held up a hand and out came a holographic info sheet. The first requirement for any visitor was to scan your finger chip to identify which of the three races they were. “Input data, please” said the robot. The voice was kind, but there was no room for small talk.

  “I need to speak to someone in charge,” Jade replied. There was strict restriction on access these days, with the hybrid plague going about. Jade might be able to throw her name around, but it didn’t work well with a robot.

  “Input data, please,” the robot replied.

  Jade looked at the robot’s nametag. “Elaine 4618, I suggest you let us speak to someone in charge.”

  “Input data, please.” Apparently, ServBot Elaine was a stubborn one.

  Jade eyed an ashen-faced man in a suit, staring at her with one-part anger, one-part horror, and one-part annoyance. He scampered over quickly, practically knocking Elaine Bot out of the way (not really, Elaine Bot was significantly stronger of the two.) “Thank you, Elaine, I will take it from here.”

  Elaine Bot blinked unnaturally, once. “Yes. Sir.” The timing of the two words were oddly spaced out. Jade thought she must be a very old model. Budget cuts were no friends to the healthcare community. Elaine turned and rolled away.

  “I’m Mr. Birmingham,” the man said with a slight nod and extension of his clammy hand. “How may I be of assistance?”

  “My name is Jade—”

  “Of course, you are,” Mr. Birmingham cut her off, bowing his head slightly and holding his hands up. Everyone knew who Jade was. “Whatever can I do for you?”

  “I was hoping to get a tour.”

  “I see. Tours are general scheduled months out through the proper channels. What, may I ask, were you hoping to get a tour of?”

  “The Hybrid Center.”

  “Well, surely you have seen. You are a hybrid, ergo you have been there for your procedure.”

  “I’m not looking for the normal tour.”

  Mr. Birmingham looked around nervously. He didn’t like where this was going. There had been special instructions from the Office of Crowley himself, certain patients were to be quarantined and no one, unless cleared by Blake himself, was to be allowed entrance.

  Mr. Birmingham’s gaze shot around the building, as if he had received a literal shock. A moment later, a small ding chimed from his processor. He touched the side of his temple. His eyes glazed over for a moment as he looked at an incoming message. Releasing his fingers, a smile spread across his face. “Of course,” he said cheerily. “Right this way.”

  Jade knew there was no sneaking around this city. It was a little-known fact, like less than a dozen people in the world knew, that the Crowley Clouds installed worldwide for power were also equipped with millions of microscopic cameras. As was every inch of every building built in this city. With an I.D. chip in every human, hybrid and bot, all Blake had to do was input a name, sit back and watch.

  She was sure he was watching them now.

  First, they went to get Angelo. The Melinda and David Briskin Center for Bot Therapy (The Bot Center) was bustling with MediBots racing around with programmed urgency. The majority of bot operations were done by other bots, as such there were only select hybrid humans working there, distinguishable by a small chip on the right earlobe.

  Mr. Birmingham went over to one of the hybrids in a white coat. Charlie couldn’t tell what was said, but it seemed like a small argument ensued. Mr. Birmingham eventually got his way and the doctor, Milligram (not his real name, it was a nickname he got in med school and it stuck,) came over to Jade. “He’s not ready yet. But come with me.”

  Jade nodded and she and Charlie were lead to an urgent care room. When the door opened and they peered inside, Charlie caught a tinge, just a tinge, of emotion come to Jade.

  Angelo was in bad shape. He was hooked to monitors and monitors to monitor the monitors and all sorts of noisy machines. He was suspended by two poles that hung from the ceiling, and sparks flew into the air as bots worked on him. His smashed face was thankfully repaired (though one eye was bigger than the rest.) His limbs, however, were replaced by a gray metal that didn’t match the rest of his body.

  Dr. Milligram stepped next to Jade. “Angelo is made of a very rare nitrate mineral, one we don’t have access to readily. We have temporarily given him titanium arm and leg replacements.”

  “Is he operational?” Jade asked, her face stony.

  “His circuits were badly damaged. We’ve manage to do basic maintenance that will allow him to operate, but he has so many complicated and advanced features-”

  Jade cut him off. “I need him now. If he can operate, it’s time for him to go.”

  “Now? I’m afraid it’s impossible. It will take months to-”

  “Now,” Jade cut him off again. The word left for no argument. “Boot him up.”

  Dr. Milligram turned around to Mr. Birmingham, who nodded. Dr. Milligram shrugged. “Suit yourself, I get paid the same either way.” He barked out orders to the MedicalBots to boot up Angelo.

  Charlie had to give his important few cents in. “Can you at least spray paint his arms and legs red to match?”

  “I’m sorry,” Dr. Milligram said with a head shake. “I’m afraid it’s not covered by insurance.”

  Charlie rolled his eyes. Some things never change.

  Angelo was released from the Mechopedic Medical Poles (they were just poles but you could charge more for them with a fancy name) and booted up. His eyes blinked on and off quickly. Charlie could hear Jade holding her breath. Would it be the same Angelo?

  Angelo came to life and spun quickly to Jade. It wasn’t the same Angelo, his eyes seemed to not recognize her. He stepped forward. Charlie was worried he may attack her.

  But Jade remained calm. “Angelo,” she said quietly. “It’s Jade.”

  Angelo’s eyes blink rapidly again. Then, they seemed to grow softer as they recognized the face in front of them. Angelo made a grand, beautiful, legendary bow. “Of course. It is, my Jadyn of Crowley. I am, as always, at your service.

  Jade let out a deep breath. As did Charlie, who didn’t even realize he had held his own.

  Angelo was back.

  The Hybrid Center was like a vast town unto itself. Each district was made up of the different disciplines required to provide Hybrid medicine; human medical care, mechanical engineering, electrical repair, computer programming, and on and on. The usual patients filled the medical ward, but wasn’t what Jade was here to investigate. She wanted to know how bad the code defect was, what happened to the victims once they had their outburst and were brought here.

  She wanted to see what could possibly happen to her.

  Mr. Birmingham personally escorted our heroes through a total of nine security doors. At each one, ProtectoBot guards of varying impressiveness stood watch, from small darting ones to ones that could crush a tank between their hands. As they went on, it wasn’t just bots that stood guard. Hybrid warriors, many mostly machine, stood watch. They all seemed to eye Charlie with a mix of hope and distaste. He guessed they didn’t care for humans, but they did care for someone to fix the problem.

  Finally, they passed the last massive portal and entered a vast hall of chaos.

  A sea of sick hybrids lay before them, filling a gigantic, sealed chamber. There weren’t just cots covering the floor, there were five-story bunk beds lined in tight rows as far as the eye could see. In each bunk was a moaning hybrid in various stages of illness, but many had the burnt-out eyes Jade had seen before. A complicated array of machinery, scientists, doctors, computer programmers, nurses, assistants and caregivers frantically ran up and down the aisles, up
and down ladders, trying to provide relief and help to the hybrids. Even though hybrids contained so many different parts, the people who helped them understood what the hybrids themselves knew: they were still human.

  “This is the ward for hybrids within their first two hours of illness,” Mr. Birmingham said.

  “All these hybrids became sick in the last two hours?” Jade asked in disbelief.

  “Well, in this district,” Mr. Birmingham nodded. “There are four other primary response units in other districts.”

  “How many are sick?” Jade asked slowly. If these hybrids all became sick in the last two hours, the numbers must far outweigh what she’d heard in the situation room.

  “We don’t know exactly,” Mr. Birmingham said. “The numbers have tripled in the last eight hours. All types of hybrids have been infected.”

  Jade was rarely at a loss for words, but this was one of those moments. If this was spreading fast, and mutating with each victim, this would be apocalyptic for her species. This plague wouldn’t just lower their numbers, it would wipe out every single one of them. It was just a matter of time.

  Time.

  Jade closed her eyes, blocking out the cacophony of the ward.

  Their only hope was time.

  Chapter 13

  “Paris, what’s the last time the Royals won the World Series?” Charlie looked at the attractive brunette hologram he named Paris with a mix of amusement, fascination and, if he were to be honest, desire. Sure, she was 60% transparent but the other 40%...

  “The Royals have won once since the 21st century, in the year 2,245. It was a magical run. Shall I play game 7 for you?”

  “Paris, you know me. You don’t even have to ask. Put it on!”

  The entire wall in front of Charlie lit and transformed into a baseball game. Charlie was happy to see that despite all the advances in this world, baseball was still pretty much the same. It comforted him watching it. Some things don’t change, the Royals’ royal blue uniforms, the lazy pace of the game (though there was a pitch clock now), how boring and perfect baseball was. Some things don’t change.