Prototype Exodus (Prototype D Series Book 2)

by Jason D. Morrow

  “Of course,” Des said. “Why use people to die when you have us?”

  Nolan shook his head at Des and sighed. “This one still sees me as a fugitive, so he’s actually acting on Roger’s orders.”

  “Roger?”

  “From robotics,” Nolan said.

  “He knows what you’re trying to do?”

  “Believe me,” Nolan said, “he won’t say anything. At least, not before we can get you out of here.”

  “So, you’re going to take Prototype A to the EMP chamber?”

  Nolan walked back to the computer terminal and started typing in some command or another, nodding at Des. “That’s right. And you’re going to stay here until I come back to get you.”

  “They are never going to believe that Prototype A is me. He looks new. I’m dirty and dinged up. I don’t even have the same colored legs.”

  “Why don’t you grab that metal netting?” Nolan said.

  Des did as he was told and held it in front of him.

  Nolan walked away from the computer terminal and stood in front of Prototype A. “Stand up,” he said.

  The robot did as he was told.

  “Now, I want to go over this one more time,” Nolan said to the robot. “If someone asks you your name, what are you going to tell them?”

  “I will say nothing.”

  “Good,” Nolan said. “If they ask you any other questions, what are you going to do?”

  “I will say nothing.”

  “That’s right.” He slapped the robot on the shoulder and smiled at Des. “You see? It’s perfect.”

  “What happens when a different superior officer asks him a question?”

  “Come again?” Nolan turned his ear toward Des as though he hadn’t heard him.

  “Someone like Bracken. What if Bracken is there and asks this robot questions?”

  “I will answer,” Prototype A said, “because Commander Bracken is my superior officer.”

  Nolan swore. “I didn’t think about that.” He took a deep breath and shrugged. “Well, hopefully by the time we get to that point, you and I will be out of here.”

  Des nodded, fearing this plan was not the best.

  “Will Commander Bracken be at my deactivation?” Prototype A asked.

  “It’s general,” Nolan said, “and no, he will be watching the video feed.” He looked at Des. “That’s why I think he will pass. The only ones who will see you are robot guards outside of the EMP chamber and they’ve never heard of you.”

  “I see.”

  “So,” Nolan said to Prototype A, “hold out your wrists.” The robot did as he was told and Nolan secured the handcuffs. He then motioned for Des to wrap the metal netting around Prototype A’s body, and with a few buttons punched, the netting became rigid. “Can you move?”

  Prototype A tried to wiggle a bit as he stood from the gurney, but his arms stayed in the same place. “Not as I would like.”

  “Good,” Nolan said. He looked at Des and motioned toward the computer screen. “I’ve set up the feed so you can see when Prototype A has been delivered and when I leave.” He pointed at the door. “Keep this thing locked until I get back. I will knock solidly four times, okay?”

  “Got it,” Des said.

  “Come on,” Nolan ordered, pulling Prototype A by the metal netting.

  “Nolan,” Des called out before he opened the door to the hallway.

  Nolan hesitated and looked at Des. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you.”

  Nolan shook his head and sighed. “Don’t thank me yet. This plan is poorly made at best. If I’m taking bets here, I’d say it’s more likely that two prototypes are going to fry tonight.” He put up his hands. “But, at least we tried, right?”

  Des watched as he led Prototype A through the door and into the hallway. Nolan’s words were not reassuring, but at least now there was hope.

  24

  Sometimes Bracken wanted to murder the man who sat next to him, and he probably would someday. Not today. Not the next day. But in the near future.

  There was a hatred growing in the Southern Zone. People were becoming restless and they wanted a change. Morris had dangled the carrot of freedom in front of their faces for too long and soon he would have a war on his hands.

  Bracken wouldn’t take credit for the president’s murder, nor would it necessarily be considered a murder. It might be as simple as a poison masked as a sickness. Morris wasn’t getting any younger. Or perhaps the stress of the Outlanders was getting to him and he might suffer a heart attack in his sleep. Or maybe Bracken would put a gun to his head and blow out his brains, making it seem as though the president had just been through too much and had ended his own life.

  No, he couldn’t do that. He would then be put on the same level as Nolan Ragsdale, and Bracken would never become a fugitive. He would face his punishment like a man, staring his executioner in the eye as the man pulled the lever to hang him by the neck.

  But none of that mattered. Bracken wouldn’t get caught. Morris would die. But before that happened, Bracken needed the unrest in the Southern Zone to get just a little more heated. He needed an all out war—a reason for the rest of Mainland to eradicate the Outlanders and send them back to the hell they came from. Then, Morris would be dead, and the people would hate Lester Vaughn enough that they would vote him out. Citizens would want someone with military might. They would want a leader who could restore the city to its former glory—back to the days when they didn’t have to live among the detestable Outlanders. Those people had no place in this city. Bracken wanted them gone and so did everyone else.

  For the last five years he had already taken small steps to ensure that he would be in a position of power over the military. He had phased out regular human soldiers. There was only a core group of about 200 who would follow Bracken to hell and back. Bracken called this group his elite soldiers. But more than that, he had the allegiance of the entire robot army, thanks in large part to his secret relationship with Esroy.

  He never liked that he was working with the robot again. Esroy had failed Bracken five years before, but since then he had pulled his weight down in the underground of Mainland. The robots were programmed to follow Bracken blindly. It was like indoctrinating someone, but all Esroy had to do was write the programming and install it through upgrades.

  And Esroy was getting restless as of late. The two of them hadn’t talked much recently, but Bracken knew Esroy was ready to be free from the sewers. It was time Bracken went down there to visit him. They had talked through encrypted channels many times, but going down into the sewers showed Esroy that Bracken really cared.

  Truth was, Bracken didn’t care about the robot or his feelings. He had no desire to set Esroy free when this was all over, even though he would make good on that promise eventually. But right now he needed Esroy.

  Bracken kept a close watch on the updates before he approved them. He would never approve one that was too much to read through, and he had his own special software made to catch anything that Esroy might try to slip in unnoticed. So far, the programming had been clean, and Bracken was satisfied with his relationship with Esroy. No, Bracken didn’t see robots as people, not even with Soul programmed, but he would honor his agreement with Esroy. He would honor it, and then he would destroy him.

  The robot knew too much. He knew everything about the deception, the plans of the takeover. Bracken and Esroy had been planning a coup the very next week after the Outlanders came in. The moment Bracken realized that Morris was going to allow the Outlanders to stay in Mainland, he knew the government was falling apart and only a military man could save them.

  Bracken was the only hope for the Mainland that once was. He hated people like Hazel Hawthorn and Nolan Ragsdale who thought the citizens had a right to know about government secrets. There was a reason the people were never told about the nuclear bomb. There was a reason they were never told about other villages and colonies all throughout the world. They didn�
�t need to know that kind of information. That kind of information was dangerous.

  Morris was weak. Vaughn was a joke. The Outlanders had overstayed their welcome. And Bracken was ready to change the city—starting with Prototype D.

  Prototype D’s deactivation was a personal victory. It did seem odd that the idea came from Lester Vaughn, but that was most likely a grasp for power. The robot had helped Vaughn get to where he was, and Vaughn either didn’t like that fact, or he was just too scared of losing his position because of the whole nuke incident. Whatever the case, Prototype D had been an embarrassment to Mainland. A rogue robot, crafted by the Mainland military, had betrayed them and had shown the city secrets he shouldn’t have. To watch him fry would be a delight.

  Morris leaned back in his leather chair and stared at the screen. His tired eyes looked as though they were barely staying open, but his eyebrows pushed together as he struck a pose of deep concentration.

  “Why do you think Vaughn gave up Des like that?” Morris asked.

  Bracken wondered if the question was meant to keep the president awake more than it was to hear Bracken’s thoughts on the matter. Still, Bracken obliged and offered his opinion.

  “The man is scared to lose his power,” Bracken said. “He is weak. He knows he only has an office here because of that miserable group of Outlanders and he knows if they turn on him then he has no one.”

  Morris’ eyes were closed when Bracken looked at him, but he shook his head vigorously when he realized he had dozed. “Sorry,” Morris said. “It’s been a long day. I agree with you, though. I think he’s afraid.”

  “His days are numbered,” Bracken said. “His Outlanders know that he hasn’t done all he could to get them what they want.”

  “And what do they want?” Morris said.

  “To make us like them,” Bracken answered.

  “Perhaps.”

  “You think something different, sir?”

  Morris shrugged and tried to sit straighter in his chair, though he failed and remained slumped. “I think we live in strange and dangerous times. We all have to watch our backs.” When Bracken looked at the president with a puzzled look, Morris was quick to backpedal. “Only that we—we have to watch our backs from the other side,” he stammered. “Those Outlanders would do anything to take us over. I wonder if exposing the truth about what happened to those villagers would help us. The people would be mad at Vaughn, too.”

  Movement on the screen caught their attention, and Morris sat a little straighter. Bracken was already sitting straight. He never slouched.

  Two robot guards brought Prototype D into the room. The robot was covered by a metal netting—a weapon designed by one of Roger’s men down in robotics.

  As they led the robot to the chair, the last place he would ever be conscious again, Bracken couldn’t help but notice a slight limp in his walk. Of course, the metal netting probably wasn’t helping him at all, but he still moved strangely. Bracken squinted at the screen and leaned in to try and get a better look. Something was off. He didn’t know what, but…something. The camera was set behind a thick metal-wired frame that somewhat obscured the feed, simply designed to protect it from the small EMP blast within the chamber. He thought about asking Morris if he noticed anything different about the scene before them, but when he looked at the president, his eyes were closed again and he started to breathe deeply. Bracken shook his head and stared at the screen, his eyes focused and determined. Why did this feel off? What made him think that something was out of place?

  He watched the robots lead Prototype D into the EMP chamber. They left the metal netting on him in case he tried to escape. The prototype complied with every order given, though it said nothing back as it was ordered around.

  Bracken’s face was inches from the screen now. He wished there was audio on this feed, and he wished that the video was clearer. He made a mental note to have the cameras updated soon. But neither of those issues masked the fact that Prototype D wasn’t struggling in the least bit.

  The robot guards closed the chamber door and walked to their assigned stations far away from the EMP control room. Only a human was allowed to man the control room. There was a small risk that the EMP blast could penetrate the chamber, and hit the robot standing guard. A human had nothing to worry about unless there was something electronic keeping him or her alive. All EMP operators were screened and tested to make sure they were fit for such duty. An EMP blast could go off and a person might not even know it but for the electronics around him going haywire and then quickly silencing.

  Bracken watched the prototype intently as the generator started. It took a little time for these things to build up enough energy to send out the pulse, but once the EMP operator hit the button, the effect was quick and the deactivation immediate. The prototype would be destroyed and all information unrecoverable.

  Bracken had thought before that he might have liked to extract any information within Prototype D’s memory, but he had dismissed the idea. Such a task wouldn’t be all that difficult, but he didn’t think the robot would have anything valuable to him. Then there was the chance that his consciousness could be uploaded to a separate device and then it would be even harder to be rid of him. Esroy had made copies of himself without anyone knowing. Prototype D could do it to.

  No. It was best just to kill him and be done with it.

  But as he stared at the screen, the feeling of doubt kept gnawing at his brain. He wished he knew the source of it. Had he been so anticipating this moment that doubt was just a natural feeling? Was this such a pivotal action that he just had to be one hundred percent sure?

  He took a deep breath and clenched his teeth together as he reached for the phone next to him. He dialed the number to the operator and waited for the pickup.

  “Yes?”

  “This is General Bracken.” His voice was harsh and low. “I want you to suspend all operations until I get down there.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Bracken set the phone down and looked at the screen again. Prototype D’s face showed no worry. He showed no fear. And if there was anything he knew about Des, it was that he was programmed with fear, and he should be feeling it.

  He turned his head to look at the president, but Morris snored softly in his seat. Incompetent as ever, Bracken thought.

  He left his chair to go to the EMP chamber. He was going to watch this deactivation with his own eyes. Then there would be no doubt.

  Bracken didn’t count how many times he was saluted in a day. Every robot he walked by, every human soldier he brushed past, stood at attention and saluted to the general. Bracken didn’t often return the salute, mostly because he wasn’t required to. He enjoyed the respect and the fervor that the men displayed, but if Bracken saluted every person and robot that held their hands up to their heads, he would be setting a visor over his brow all day long.

  The man in the control room stood at attention and saluted Bracken, staring straight ahead as he was trained to do when the general entered the room.

  “At ease,” Bracken told him. He stood next to the man and watched a screen in front of him. The prototype remained standing in the same position with the same blank expression on his face, only this view of the robot was much clearer than on Bracken’s video feed.

  “Is there a change in plans, sir?” the operator asked him.

  Bracken shook his head. “No. I just want to check something first. I need to get into the EMP chamber and talk to the robot.”

  The operator didn’t question Bracken. He didn’t even hesitate. He motioned to a door at the other side of the room and said, “the door activates with your thumb print, sir.”

  “Very good,” Bracken said.

  “The generator is ready, sir. All I have to do is hit the button and the EMP blast will go off in the chamber. I can hit the button if the robot tries to do anything. Would you like me to be ready?”

  Bracken thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Sure. Keep it rea
dy. If he knocks me over or tries to get out, hit the button.”

  “Are you carrying any electronic device on you sir?”

  Bracken shook his head. “No.”

  “Very well, sir. The chamber is ready.”

  The door opened and revealed a long hallway that set the EMP chamber and the control room apart. The hallway was long and dark. There were no lights because they would likely be rendered useless by the EMP.

  Bracken could see well enough but he walked carefully down the hallway, each step slow and steady. Finally, he reached another door, this one with a manual lock on the outside, not the thumb print scanner like in the control room. Bracken reached forward and twisted the lock. It clicked to the right and the door relaxed from the metal frame. With a gentle push, Bracken opened the door.

  The room was just about as dark as the hallway, but it wasn’t difficult to see the prototype. The robot’s eyes traveled to see Bracken, but it did not move. Bracken thought at first he saw it trying to move it’s arms when he walked in, but it could have been his imagination.

  “Commander Bracken,” the robot said.

  “General Bracken, now.”

  “Yes. General Bracken. That is what Roger told me.”

  “Roger?” Bracken’s insides went cold.

  “Yes.”

  “What is your name?” Bracken said.

  “I am supposed to tell you that I am Des. Prototype D. But since you are superior officer, I am programmed to tell you the truth. I am Prototype A.”

  Bracken felt his right hand begin to shake. “You better not be messing with me.”

  “I am not,” the robot said. “It goes against my basic programming to do so.”

  “We never programmed you with Soul?”

  “I have not been programmed with anything other than basic programming.”

  “Prove to me that you aren’t Prototype D,” Bracken ordered.

  The robot stood for a moment, not saying anything. “If you unbind me from this netting, I would be able to show you that my body looks significantly cleaner than his.”