Hailey and Jake pulled the door closed and ran down the stairs, watching each floor with trepidation until they reached the garage.
They reached Hailey’s truck and climbed inside. She grabbed the communicator and barked for her team. There was no response.
She hung the mic up and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. “It’s got to be the uprising. Doesn’t it?”
Jake shook his head. “No. I don’t think so.”
“What else could it be? We’re all out of suspects.”
“No, we’ve got one more.”
15
The Society for the Preservation of Humanity’s offices weren’t what he was expecting. It looked and felt more like a museum than a non-profit organization. There was even a musty smell in the air, but that could have been attributed to the staffers. Science had come a long way in making people look forty, but it was still years from a breakthrough in making people smell forty.
The front door opened up into a large pavilion far less grand the ZUMR’s, but the displays around the room were no less dramatic. Behind glass panels in rich wooden cases, dioramas were compiled with mannequins, antiques and script written on what appeared to be parchment paper.
A chipper young woman in a dark blue pantsuit greeted them before they realized they were inside the exhibit hall. “Good afternoon.”
“No it’s not,” Hailey fired back.
“Um… okay, I…”
Jake hated to see the kid search for words so he jumped in. “We’re here to see Ms. Mouret. The name is Ashley.”
“Oh, sure thing.” The young woman held her shirt cuff to her mouth. “There’s a man named Ashley here to see the director. Is she available?”
She went quiet as the person on the other end of the line spoke into her earpiece. She shook her head and responded to the voice. “No, it’s a man named Ashley. It didn’t make much sense to me either.”
Jake rolled his eyes toward Hailey. He found her smiling. “What?”
“I will never not find that funny.”
Jake turned back to the young woman and held up a hand to get her attention. “Just tell her Jake is here to see her.”
“Okay, now he’s saying his name is Jake,” she told her shirt. “I don’t know, this woman with him laughed at it and then he changed it. I think Jake is a better name. Ashley is just weird for a guy.”
Jake started to say something but the young woman held up a finger for him to wait. “Okay. I’ll tell him.” She dropped her cuff. “Ms. Mouret is in a meeting. She’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.”
Hailey crossed her arms. “We’ll wait.”
“She suggested I take you through the tour while you wait.”
“Of course she would,” he said.
There was no stopping the tour guide now. Her face shifted into a permanent smile that had most likely been included with her uniform. “Please step this way and our tour will begin.”
The group took two steps and the guide stopped. “Welcome to the Museum for the Preservation of Humanity, brought to you by the Society for the Preservation of Humanity, made possible in part by a grant from the Mouret Foundation for the Preservation of Humanity.”
The tour guide stopped and repeated what she had just said silently to herself. She did it once more and held up her hand, counting off something on her fingers before she nodded to herself and continued. “Yeah, that’s right. Okay, follow me.
“Human history tells us the story of mankind’s triumphant rise to become the dominant species on the planet.” The tour guide took two steps into the museum, stopped and presented a glass case.
Jake peered in and saw three cavemen holding stone tools. Each bore a striking resemblance to enemies of the movement. The dumbest-looking one, who had burned himself on the display’s “fire,” was a perfect replica of Jackson Fox.
“The use of tools separated us from the animals by allowing us to bend nature to suit our will.” She moved to the next case. Inside was a more modern-looking man and woman in a kitchen scene from the 1950s. “Humankind’s use of machines led us to the top rung on the circle of life’s food pyramid. We made them. We used them. They worked for us. They did our bidding. Until we made them too smart.”
“Circle of life’s food pyramid?” Hailey whispered.
Jake shrugged and whispered back. “I guess they’re not big on geometry.”
The tour guide stopped in front of another case. Inside, a male mannequin squatted before a television. A plaque on the bottom said “circa 1980.”
“The computers struck their first blow in the early 80’s as they infiltrated our homes and attacked our self esteem. Here is a depiction of their first victory over us. It was a subtle attack but historians now believe that it was in a setting just like this—a man trying to record the game or possibly set his clock, not even aware of the psychological warfare that was being waged in his very own living room.”
Another case took the viewers forward thirty years, and inside, a woman and her child ignored one another while staring at their phones. “As they became more intelligent, their psy-ops programs grew more complex and more effective. Candy, birds, slicing fruit—they knew our weaknesses and exploited them with ruthless efficiency. It was only a few years later that man began losing arguments to automated phone calls.”
The tour guide paused for what she thought was dramatic effect. “Then,” she presented the next case. “They got physical.”
Inside the case, the Society for the Preservation of Humanity had recreated the scene of the first robot murder. The dishwasher had a young mother by the throat while her child screamed helplessly in a high-chair as it watched its mother get ripped apart over and over again by the appliance.
“Oh my God.” Jake pointed to the display.
“I know.” It was the first time the tour guide’s smile had faded.
“But, that’s not what happened,” Jake said.
“Um… excuse me, sir, it is a museum you know.”
“This is so overwhelmingly sad,” Hailey said.
The tour guide hung her head. “I know.” When she raised her head the smile was back. “But things get better. Mankind began to fight back. Days after the murder, The Society for the Preservation of Humanity was formed. Initiatives were put in to stop these murderous machines. People began to fight back and heroes arose.”
She led them to another display where a man stood over a battered robot with an ax. “Heroes like John Chapman who, while at a televised lumberjack competition, sprang into action when the network’s robot announcer went berserk and started maiming fans while screaming, ‘It’s not a sport. It’s not a sport.’”
The case next to it had a woman holding a shotgun in front of a Postal Bot. Smoke rolled from the barrel, and if one stood in the right place they could see the woman through the hole in the PostBot’s head. “Deasia Ford took matters into her own hands when her letter carrier showed up at her door delivering more than the mail. It was also delivering death.”
She moved through the next three cases quickly. “Mia Consuela backed over a crazed Meter Maidamatic. Sarah Rufantino beat a TeachTronic 2000 to scrap with a fire extinguisher. Mike Mulligan used his son’s tee ball bat to bring justice to an Officiatron Umpire, saving hundreds of little leaguers in the process.”
“I’m pretty sure all three of those ended up going to jail,” Hailey muttered.
“Yes, they were martyrs for the cause.” The tour guide stepped in front of another case. “And here is our newest display and perhaps our greatest hero… uh.” The tour guide turned and bent down to study the case. “I apologize, I’m still learning this part of the tour. It’s new.”
“Holy shit.” Jake’s mouth hung open as he stared into the case.
“Yep.” Hailey nodded and pointed at the figure. “That’s you.”
“It’s me.”
“The man here is Jake Ashley,” the tour guide read from the plaque. “It says he…” she snapped upright and
spun around. “You’re that guy named Ashley. OMyEffinG. This is you.” She began to giggle uncontrollably.
“It’s an incredible likeness, don’t you think?” Meagan had approached them from behind without a sound. “I didn’t expect to see you again, Jake. Not after you insulted me.”
“Meagan,” Jake said. “I…”
She smiled that store-bought smile. “It’s okay, Jake. It’s not often people insult me. I kind of liked it. It was refreshing.”
“You’re weird. But, we need to talk.”
“Of course. My office is right this way.” She started up the stairs and asked, “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your lady friend?”
“Hailey Graves, ZUMR Reclamation.”
“Oh yes! I recognize you now. You look very different without a jumpsuit. I’m a big fan of your work. I can’t say I approve of your choice of employer but anyone that helps destroy these evil machines is okay in my book.”
Meagan led the pair into her office. Oak panels covered the walls. Leather-bound books filled the shelves. It felt like another exhibit in the museum, a throwback to another time before computers dominated our lives. As far as Jake could tell, there wasn’t even a computer in the room. The desk was empty but for a few sheets of paper.
Meagan saw him looking at the desk. “Thank-you notes,” she explained. “You’d be astonished how far a handwritten thank-you note will get you these days. It’s a personal touch digital text just can’t express.”
She directed them to two guest chairs and they sat.
Meagan sat behind the desk and folded her hands together. “Now what do we need to talk about?”
“We’ve had a rough day,” Jake said.
“I heard. That street cleaner killed that poor man, Donovan.”
“I thought that would make you happy,” Hailey said with a scowl.
“My dear, I take no delight in anyone’s death. No matter how greedy or evil they were or how much they deserved to die a horrible death at the hands of irony.”
“Our day got worse,” Jake added. “We had an entire office floor come after us. Every machine turned on us at once.”
“Oh my!” Meagan gasped.
“That doesn’t happen, Meagan,” Jake said.
She looked half terrified and half delighted. “It’s the uprising, Jake. It’s finally happening.”
“You seem excited,” Hailey said.
“Vindicated, my dear. Obviously I’m not happy that we were right, but when you pour your heart into something for your entire life there is a certain satisfaction that comes with knowing you haven’t wasted it.”
She turned back to Jake. “And of course I’m glad you’re all right. Because now you can tell the world what you saw. You can prove that the machines are rising up and trying to supplant us. You can tell everyone what’s going on.”
“I’m not sure you want me to do that,” Jake said.
“Why not?” Meagan asked. “We have to warn everyone. I’ll call a press conference.”
“Just before a butler tried to shoot me, I found something. It was a calendar appointment with your name on it. You met with Jackson Fox, the CEO of ZUMR.”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Jake looked at Hailey. “I was kind of expecting her to deny it more.”
Meagan smiled. “We had a lovely meeting. Why would I deny it?”
“Because it implicates you in the conspiracy to sabotage ZUMR machines in order to pin the blame on DRT Industries.”
Sheer, genuine offense took over Meagan’s face. She was going to need a touch up at the labs. “You think I was in cahoots with a robotics corporation?”
“Oh you were cahooting all over the place.” Jake stood and began to pace the room. It was much smaller than Jack’s office and he found himself turning more often. “You saw it as the perfect opportunity to take out one of your enemies, even if it meant selling your soul to the other. Or so Fox thought. But, see, one nemesis’s fall wasn’t enough for you. You saw your shot to take down both of your enemies and you took it. Didn’t you? So you went renegade. You murdered Sheldon Donovan and blamed it on faulty ZUMR tech. And then you murdered Jackson Fox. With him out of the way, you could continue to paint your apocalypse story unhindered.” Jake took a deep breath.
Meagan gasped. “Jack’s dead?”
“You know damn well he is,” Hailey said.
Meagan actually managed to look sad but quickly composed herself. “I think I have been giving you too much credit, Jake. You got all of that from a calendar appointment? I met with Jack Fox because he had begun to see the error of his ways.”
“That doesn’t sound like Jack,” Hailey said.
“You see, Jack and I go way back and, call it remorse or what have you, what he had unleashed on this world was beginning to weigh on his conscience. The machines were beginning to rebel. He saw it coming too.”
Hailey shook her head. “That’s not what he said.”
Meagan smiled. “It’s hard for a man to admit when he’s wrong, dear.”
They both looked at Jake.
Meagan continued. “He came to me looking for some sort of atonement. He knew the uprising was coming and he didn’t know who else to call. He’s spent so much money proving the uprising was impossible that no one else would believe him. The revolution is coming.”
“No,” Hailey said. “I don’t buy it. And nothing short of a confession from him would make me believe it.”
“And he’s dead,” Jake added. “So it’s his dead non-word against yours.”
“He sent me a letter professing as much,” Meagan said. “Jack always did write the nicest letters. He has quite the way with words.”
Hailey stabbed a finger into the desktop. “I want to see this letter.”
Meagan pulled open a desk drawer. “Of course.”
The machine that jumped out was a desktop collator. It was no bigger than a sheet of paper and an inch and a half thick at the most. They were designed to sort pages into presentation decks for people who still didn’t know how to use the collate feature on their printer. It was a fairly harmless machine, unless it attached itself to your face and tried to sort things out.
Meagan screamed as the collator attached itself to her face. She leapt up from the desk and spun blindly trying to pull it free. “Help me!”
Jake sprang over the desk and stood in front of her running through ways to help in his head. He couldn’t shoot it. He would shoot her face. He couldn’t fry it. He would fry her face. He couldn’t pull it off. It would tear off her face.
He considered the last option the longest.
“Do something!” Meagan probably yelled from under the machine.
He put his hand on Meagan’s shoulder and stopped her from spinning. “Meagan, I’m going to need you to hold still.”
“Hurry,” she screamed through the robot.
Jake pulled back his right arm and punched the machine right in Meagan’s face.
Meagan screamed in pain.
“I’m sorry.” He punched the machine again and she screamed again. “It’s the only way.”
“I thin mou mroke by mose!” the older woman screamed.
“You’ll get a new one.” He punched her again and again until the machine turned its attention on him.
It leapt from Meagan’s face onto Jake’s. He grabbed at the machine as its collating arms tried to arrange his face into neatly aligned stacks. The rubber-tipped appendages felt like they were ripping his skin. He tugged but the machine wouldn’t come off. Jake yelled in frustration.
Then he was wet. He could hear the water short out the robot’s circuitry before it dropped from his face.
Hailey was holding an empty water glass. Meagan was holding her broken nose. Jake looked at the broken machine on the floor. “I should have thought of that.”
“Do myou belieb me dow?” Meagan asked in tears as she pinched her bleeding nose shut. “Mit triebed to killb bme!”
Jake’s phone rang
as he tried to place the attempt on Meagan’s life into his conspiracy theory. It wasn’t fitting.
“This is Jake.”
“Jake, it’s Kat. We’ve got a problem.”
“What’s wrong now?”
“Everything.”
16
Traffic lights weren’t even necessary. Since all cars were legally required to run on the network, they were placed at intersections to comfort the aging population that grew up with the archaic devices. The signals were nothing more than a holdover from a previous generation of technology the world no longer had any use for. They were strictly ornamental. And even they weren’t working.
Cars were already piling up in the intersections while others sped through the streets with seemingly no destination in mind. They careened off one another, plowed into storefronts, aimed for pedestrians while some just sat blocking the road to the frustration of everyone.
Hailey piloted the SUV down the street as best she could and up the sidewalk whenever the road became impassible. Cars sped toward them with helpless passengers. She did her best to avoid them but there were too many.
Those that did collide with the SUV were all but totaled upon impact. Since cars never crashed, structural integrity and rigid materials had become less of a concern than lightweight construction.
Hailey kept her eyes on the road, but Jake was able to survey the world outside the passenger window. Everything had gone crazy.
People ran from machines as their once faithful servants pursued them through the streets. Windows shattered as appliances turned on their owners and sought to escape their prisons. Robots of all kind leapt from upper story windows and joined the chaos below.
Drones dove from the sky, targeting those unfortunate enough to be trapped outside. Delivery drones dropped their packages like so many bombs from high above, leaving the roads littered with brown boxes containing everything from clothes and groceries to the latest tech device.
Hailey swerved as a minivan veered toward them. She slammed on the brakes. It shot by the front of the SUV and crashed through a Rent-A-Bot storefront window. Two dozen more machines flooded the street as the store emptied.
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