by J J Perry
“Permission has not been granted,” Antoinette repeated.
“But it has. Check again.”
“Permissions are immediately available when posted. You have been misinformed.” Antoinette moved closer to the machine 23. “You may power up other devices.”
“Sparky,” Nin said, “plug it in anyway.”
Antoinette spun slightly and shot a spark at Nin, hitting her high on her thigh, burning a small black hole in her white suit.
“Ouch! Damn it. That hurt!” Nin screamed. She put both hands over the site and fell to the floor.
“Nin!” Porliche hollered.
“I can’t use my leg,” Nin said. Porliche knelt over her. Sparks stepped well away from the cable.
“The paralysis is temporary,” Palfrey said. “No more than a minute.”
“I’m going to file a complaint,” Porliche said. “That was uncalled for.”
“Don’t waste your time,” Palfrey said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Welcome to Atlantica. The robots are programmed to comply with the laws here 100 percent of the time. We’re a bit more strict here than other places. And most of us have scars.”
“Ow! That hurts,” Nin moaned. She lifted her hands, and a charred spot the size of a lemon oozed blood onto her palms and spreading into the surrounding cloth. “Lord!”
“They aim for a major nerve,” Palfrey said. “Looks like she went for the femoral.”
“We traveled thousands of kilometers to get here,” Porliche said to Antoinette. “And we’re not allowed to see what we came here to see. That’s downright dishonest.”
Running footsteps approached. Madam Suzette appeared. “Is everyone OK?” She was panting. “I got notice that a bolt was fired in here.”
“There was an attempt to exceed the permission granted,” Antoinette replied.
Nin moaned and cursed on the ground.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “We have our rules.”
“Some sort of notice would have been nice,” Porliche said. “I had no idea this guard bot shot people on site without as much as a warning. How barbaric!”
“Everyone knows,” Suzette said.
“I’m a Monican. How would I know?”
Nin started moving her leg. With a little assistance from Porliche, she stood up. “Ruined that outfit,” she said. “It’s five years old, so I guess I’ve had good use—Gwolo! That stings.”
“Why can’t we power up 23?” Porliche asked Suzette.
“I have no idea. It’s from the top. They don’t consult me, and, frankly, they shouldn’t. I’m a docent, not a technician or scientist.”
“Who do I talk to?”
“To whom,” she corrected. “That would be Nigol Muffelo, the minister of artifacts. He is in the capitol, Romica.”
“Could I arrange a remote conference?”
“I doubt it, but you can try. He prefers face-to-face, especially with young women.” She smiled. “He can be swayed, they say, by certain kinds of persuasive, umm, arguments.”
“That’s Nin’s department,” Porliche said.
“Normally,” Nin agreed with a grin.
“How do I contact him?” Porliche asked.
“Come to the office, and I’ll get the process started. First, you’ll need a clearance, which takes a few weeks for a citizen and probably longer for a foreigner. Your ambassador will need to initiate the process. You’ll need an etiquette manager and hours of education about the government and its protocols. You’ll need a cleared list of—”
“Oh, stop!” Porliche said. “I’m going to be here for less than two more days, and then it’s back across the Atlantic.”
“Then you won’t be seeing the minister.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“It’s government.”
“I need to get back to the lodge,” Nin said, pulling on Porliche’s shoulder.
Sparks replaced the yellow tape as the group moved to the long hall that exited through the museum. Nin limped badly at first but improved as they moved slowly along. The group, without Suzette, huddled under the rustic portico.
“This memory card thing got me kind of excited,” Porliche said. “Like, I thought, if there are answers, they’ll be in documents.”
“You might be right,” Nin said.
“Would you like me to take a look at that burn?” Palfrey said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
A smile crept across her face. “I’d appreciate it. Take as long as you like.”
He knelt and looked and then prodded around it with his index finger. “There may be a way to get in here at night,” he said as he probed and nodded toward the door.
“Why wait till night?” Nin sighed.
Porliche punched her on the shoulder and growled in disgust. Palfrey stood up. “How?” Porliche asked.
“I know all the security features and the work-arounds.”
“Won’t we get in trouble?”
“It’s a tiny third-degree burn,” he said to Nin. “You’ll have a small round scar like this.” He pulled his sleeve up. Just above the crease at his elbow was a stellate white scar the size of a thumbprint. Nin slid her finger over it, and then he quickly covered it up. “Trouble?” Palfrey went serious. “Jail time if we get caught.” He paused. “And if the government doesn’t like what we find.”
Porliche put her hand over her mouth in dread. The gravity of his statement turned everyone somber.
“I’ll stick with the papers,” Porliche said.
“We probably won’t get caught,” Palfrey added.
“Aren’t the prisons in Atlantica kind of brutal?” Nin asked.
“Define brutal,” Palfrey said. “They’re up on frozen islands in the Atlantic or the North Sea where it’s frigid beyond belief, so the prisoners want to stay inside. They want to keep working at hard labor just to avoid freezing to death. And they say you’ll get warmed up every now and then by a good—”
“Enough,” Nin said. “Between the electrocutions and freezing, I think I’ll stick with Porliche in the library.”
“You are this close to the biggest discovery in a century,” he said, holding up a finger and a thumb almost touching. “A little risk is called for. I can disable the security so no one will know we were here.”
“Are you sure?” Quan asked.
“I’ve done it before,”—he shrugged—“twice.”
“Are the prisons coed?” Nin asked.
“Except for violent offenders and some sex criminals.”
“You’ve broken in to this facility at night without being detected?” Porliche asked.
“Like I said.”
“Would you do it again if you had sufficient reason?”
“In a heartbeat for this. It’s a career maker. I could leave this dung heap and go to the coast for a real job. And real men.”
“Let’s talk about this back at the lodge,” Porliche said. “I’m walking back after I get kicked off the server.”
Everyone else took the van.
15.4
When Porliche returned after dark, Nin and Sparks were seated at different table, each alone in the pub. Nin waved her over and pushed out a chair with her good leg. “Any luck?” Nin asked.
“I keep finding things but so far nothing to either substantiate or refute the discovery.”
“Too bad.”
“What’s up with you and Sparky?”
“Things are not good between us.”
“Shocking.”
“He has no concept of sexual freedom. He is upset that I tried to play with Quan last night.”
“He is not unusual in that way, I would guess,” Porliche said as she struggled for words.
“Quan was difficult to get going last night. I can’t get Palf to give me a second look. I must b
e losing it.”
“Palf keeps putting his hand of Quan’s butt. Quan does not seem to mind,” Porliche observed. “I think the two of them are andro-erotic.”
Nin gaped and sputtered softly and then issued a soft sighing phonation through her nose, lips closed in contemplation. “I bet you’re right. That would explain why Quan could not keep it up, so to speak. I was hoping for so much more.”
“So is he still a virgin?” Porliche asked with a twinkle.
“It’s hard to say. Maybe. Probably. I don’t know. It depends on your definition. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Porliche laughed. “That’s hard to believe.”
Nin, after a little pause, joined her in laughter. “OK, it’s pretty stupid.”
“What do you think about breaking in to the museum?”
“Palf said he’d meet us at two in the morning outside the parking lot, those of us who want to come. Quan is going, with dreams of the biggest PhD thesis in decades and job offers from all around the globe. Sparky said he’d go. So it’s just for you and me to decide.”
“Wow.”
“I’m not going. I’m already wounded.”
“I’ll have to think about it,” Porliche said, hesitating.
“If they get caught, we’ll get arrested by the fascists as well. This is a country of Neanderthals.”
“You’re probably right. I might as well join ’em.”
“Dress warm. If you get caught, you’ll want a lot of clothing. Otherwise, you’ll never warm up after spending a lot of time naked. They do thorough searches,”—she placed quotation marks with her fingers—“especially of young women.”
The thought itself made her shiver.
At about two in the morning, Porliche and Sparks huddled in the pines in the dark near the access road and the parking lot. He started his third cigarette, inhaling the first drag with satisfaction. A branch snapped nearby. They stiffened.
“Anyone here?”
“Quan?” Porliche whispered back.
“Yeah. Me and Palf are here.”
She walked in the direction of the voice. Sparks followed.
“Put out your smoke, you idiot,” Palfrey commanded. “Are you trying to get caught?”
He flicked the burning end into the underbrush and crushed it with his foot. The unburned part he placed in a pocket.
“I have good signal,” Palfrey said, looking at a small tablet computer. “I’m going to give us about ninety minutes inside as soon as the human watchman drives around here. He should be here anytime now.”
Five minutes later, a truck came down the access road and drove around the parking lot. It stopped near the museum entrance. A person in a heavy coat climbed out and tested the door. It did not open. The watchman pulled the hood of the coat back and shook long hair loose. In the dark, it looked like a woman. She flicked on a flashlight and looked quickly around. She waved to the truck, and a man exited. She pulled a badge on a lanyard around her neck and touched it to a pad. A click. She opened the door, and she and the man entered. In the shadow inside, it appeared that they embraced with hungry passion.
“You’re kidding,” Palfrey said.
“How long is this going to take?” Quan asked. “I’m freezing.”
“Give me a minute,” Palfrey said. He focused on his computer, tapping and pointing. “She just deactivated the interior cameras. I’ll just reactivate in a second. There we go.” The three men watched the screen for ten minutes.
“Now’s a good time to page her, don’t you think, fellas?”
“Please,” Sparky said. “Watching hippos mate is making me sick.”
“They’re both pretty heavy,” Quan said.
Palfrey did something on his tablet. “Ha. Perfect timing. She really doesn’t want to answer. But she does. Such a shame to interrupt at the crucial moment, but life is hard. It’ll take a couple of minutes to get dressed.”
“He’s big everywhere except where it counts,” Sparky said.
“A small fallacy,” Palfrey said.
Porliche laughed. She had been shivering a few meters away, avoiding looking at whatever it was they were all so intently watching. A few minutes later, the couple lumbered from the building and into the truck and sped off.
“That was a good thing,” Palfrey said. “If there is any hint of suspicion that there was a break-in, they have the recording of the guard and her consort.” He tapped a few more times. “OK, our ninety minutes is down to seventy. Let’s get started.”
He led them from the trees to a side entrance. It was unlocked by the time they arrived, and they quickly entered. They found the passage to the Bunker. Just outside the entrance, Palfrey stopped.
“This is the tricky part,” he said. He started working on his computer again.
“What tricky part?” Porliche asked.
“I’ve never had to deactivate a guard-bot before. I can—I’ve just never had to do it.”
It took several minutes, much longer than Porliche expected, before he stopped tweaking and walked into the corridor. Antoinette stood motionless, a couple of dim lights indicating she was charging or something.
Quan took down the yellow tape as Sparks turned the lights on. Palfrey inspected the front and sides of 23. Sparks plugged the power source into the wall socket. He andadjusted and confirmed the settings on the transformer. He pulled the cable to the rear of the box and looked out of the narrow passage at Palfrey, Quan, and Porliche. “Say when,” he said.
Palfrey looked at the others. “Now.”
He attached the cord and threw a switch. Some LED lights lit. There was no indication of any signal ever received. “Nothing so far,” Quan observed.
Sparks came out from the rear of the machine. After a brief inspection, Palfrey pulled a memory wafer from a shirt pocket, inspected it, and attempted to insert it into the first slot. It would not go.
He placed it in the second and watched it disappear. The “DATA TXFR” message displayed. He took out a second card and repeated the process with the third slot. The same thing happened. He used the same chip to test slots four and five. After Palf removed the chip, he pondered. He tried to insert the unused memory chip into the first slot again without success.
“I wonder why this first writer doesn’t work. Probably too old.” He checked his watch. “We have half an hour. Maybe we should just shut it down and get out with plenty of time to spare.”
Antoinette lit up with an array of flashing lights.
“That can’t be good,” Sparks said.
“What the hell?” Palf started furiously tapping on his computer.
Antoinette rolled away from the wall. “BREACH! BREACH! Unauthorized access!” it screeched.
“Power down the machine,” Palfrey called out.
Sparks took a step to get behind the machine. Antoinette fired, striking him behind the knee. He shrieked in pain and fell to the ground.
“Foil!” Palfrey said. Quan pulled a roll of aluminum from his backpack. He moved slowly away from the machines and toward Palfrey as he pulled a meter-long strip out. “You’ll need gloves.”
Quan donned gloves slowly.
“Damn!” Palfrey kept punching his screen. “The bot sent a message. We’re screwed.”
Antoinette fired at Palfrey, but the projectile hit the foil with a rattle and tap.
“Ouch!” Quan said, his teeth bared.
Sparks stood on one leg and tried again to get behind the box. Antoinette fired two bolts at him, striking both buttocks. Sparks jerked and began to scream before he started seizing and fell to the floor, teeth clenched, foam oozing out of his grimace.
Suddenly, Antoinette spun and rolled down the corridor, firing bolts in random directions.
“We have a minute at most,” Palfrey said. “Then she’ll be back with a vengeance. Pull th
e power. I’ll grab Sparks.”
Quan went to slip behind the machine. Porliche halted him with one hand. With the other, she placed a thumb above and a finger below slot one. Slowly, a memory wafer emerged. When it was free, she gingerly and with reverence removed it.
“History,” Palfrey uttered with the reverence of a crusader finding the Holy Grail. The chamber echoed with tiny explosions. All but Sparks blinked in disbelief.
“Who knows how many years this has been here?” Quan asked.
“If we’re lucky, it’s got the recording of the signal from two thousand years ago.”
The explosions stopped, and the whirring noise of Antoinette’s wheels grew louder. Lights appeared from the darkness. Palfrey grabbed the limp form of Sparks and dragged him away. Quan held the foil up and walked backward, shielding all of them. Antoinette fired half a dozen bolts, five of them hitting the aluminum, Quan holding on despite the pain. The last one hit Quan in his right lower leg. He screamed and dropped the protection. Antoinette drew closer. Palfrey was through the door, and Sparks’s legs crossed the threshold. As Quan bellowed in pain and collapsed, little Porliche put her arm around his waist and pulled him through the doorway. The final bolt was aimed at Quan’s heart. It hit Porliche’s forearm instead. The door closed as Porliche tripped over Sparks’s feet and pulled Quan on top of her.
Grimacing, she quickly sprang to her feet and pulled to ensure the door was latched. Palfrey continued pulling the unconscious Sparks down the hall. “Get up, Quan!” she yelled.
“I’m hurt.”
“You could be dead if you don’t get moving. The bitch is pissed off.”
Quan was shocked at her language and pulled himself to his feet. “You’re bleeding!”
Porliche wiped blood from her arm. “I’ve had worse,” she said.
“Come on,” Palfrey called. “We need to get out of here! Security is coming!”
Quan tried to stand, but his leg gave out. Porliche supported him on the injured side, and he hobbled quickly up the hall. Palfrey opened the door to the museum and closed it quickly as a bolt hit the door. “We are so screwed,” he said. “There’s another guard-bot in the museum. They may shoot to kill.”