Prototype Exodus (Prototype D Series Book 2)

by Jason D. Morrow

  One step at a time, he thought.

  This part was the hard part. There was no certainty that all the robots would get this update. On top of that, Hazel wanted the update to be neutral. What good were robots who weren’t thinking for themselves and making their own decisions? This was Hazel’s view, at least. The problem was, they might see the truth, and still decide to stay with Bracken and President Morris. Nolan would have been happier limiting their knowledge to: Bracken is evil. President Morris is evil. Esroy is evil. The Outlanders need freedom.

  Esroy. That was another hiccup. When Nolan had been thinking this through, Esroy had never been a factor. Now it seemed the Outlanders might be fighting two enemies instead of just one. There was Bracken and whatever robots remained on his side—not to mention his dedicated group of 200 or so elite soldiers. Then there was Esroy and his underground following—an undetermined number of robots who hadn’t been receiving updates for some time now.

  The Outlanders remained at a disadvantage even if Nolan were to get the update in motion. He had no doubt that the people—the Outlanders—would be willing to fight. That was a good thing. But their fight would be useless against an army of robots. That was why they needed their own robots. That was why it was important to show the robots that they were oppressed, and just as much so as the Outlanders. If the robots could see the common ground they had with the Outlanders, then they could storm the military compound and then they could…

  Another hitch in Nolan’s plan. If the Outlanders were able to get enough support, then they would storm the compound. Then they could take out Bracken’s pet project that only the presidents and Bracken knew about. It was the EMP weapon. Once set off, it would essentially short-circuit every electronic piece of equipment from here to the edge of the city. Nothing electronic would survive, though nothing organic in nature would be affected in the least. So, that meant that once it was activated, all the robots, all their problems, would fall limp and die as though they had never existed. Such a weapon would send the entire city back to the stone age. They would have to rebuild from nothing, but if that was the price they had to pay then so be it. Rebuilding from nothing wouldn’t be so bad. It seemed poetic to Nolan. A new beginning.

  He thought about how the EMP was only a few levels below where he now walked. If it was up to him, he would march down there, flip the switch, and kill every electronic in the city. He would then gather the Outlanders and go to war. But it wasn’t that simple. In the EMP weapon’s creation, Bracken had been very careful. First, it was built by human hands. It probably would have been no good to have robots working on a weapon that would cause their own destruction. And they were too smart to build it and not figure out what it was. The weapon had remained completely disconnected from the outside world. There wasn’t a chance that it could be activated from a remote location or accessed through the network. On top of all that, there were at least a hundred robots assigned to guard the weapon’s entrance and none of them knew what they were guarding. It would take a massive fight and a lot of soldiers just to get to the room.

  That said, it was up to the Outlanders and remaining robots to deactivate the weapon. He suspected that he wouldn’t be able to convince an army of robots to go to battle in order to wipe out their own existence.

  Hazel wouldn’t go along with it either. To her it would be genocide. To Nolan, it was just fixing a problem. Every time he thought about using the EMP, he thought about Des. Nolan liked the robot just fine, but Nolan wasn’t like Hazel. He didn’t think the robots were human. They were what they were: machines; computer programs. That was it. There was nothing more.

  Bracken’s office was just at the end of the hallway and Nolan’s heart beat faster with every step he took. His mind reeled with the possibilities of the coming moments. He could be caught. The program might not work. Nolan might not be able to figure out how to access the terminals. But there was only one positive outcome.

  Nolan didn’t like his odds.

  The door wasn’t locked when he reached for the handle. This made him pause for a moment because surely Bracken would have locked his door if he was gone.

  Nolan let go of the handle and knocked lightly on the door. There was no answer so he knocked again. And again. He then twisted the handle and cracked the door just a little. When he stuck his head in, he could see that the lights were out and the computer was off. Nolan looked behind him and was satisfied that there was no one watching after him and no cameras in this part of the facility. Bracken liked it that way.

  Nolan locked the door behind him when he got into the room. He left the lights off, using only the light of the sun which came through a window from the other side. He tiptoed to the desk next to the window and reached down, turning on the computer with a push of a button. He sat easily in Bracken’s chair, making sure not to move too much in case there was a squeak. He knew it probably wouldn’t matter, but staying as quiet as possible put him at ease.

  When the computer finally booted up, Nolan punched in the access code given to him by Lester, then he stared at the screen not quite sure what to do. There was Bracken’s computer, open for him to use as he needed. He could access anything Bracken could access. So, he searched for the update terminal access.

  It took him several grueling minutes of opening files and closing them before he finally found what he thought was the right one. But then he realized that it was just a file containing all the code numbers for each individual update terminal.

  He did some more browsing, while each second that ticked away felt like a second closer to being caught. Every few moments he would look up at the door as if he thought someone was about to walk right on through and arrest him for treason. He looked back at the screen, this time determined not to take his eyes off until he found the right program.

  Nolan then saw something unexpected. There was a file near the bottom of the screen that simply read Esroy. Nolan’s heart seemed to skip a beat when he selected the folder. Inside there were files upon files, subfolders upon subfolders. He scrolled through most of them, unable to determine what he was looking at exactly. Then he came across a file simply titled: updates. Nolan selected it and up came a list.

  He squinted his eyes as he read through it, line-by-line. His pulse started pounding when he finally realized what he was looking at.

  “No way,” he whispered to himself.

  It seemed that these updates that the robots were required to get weren’t written by Bracken, but by Esroy. And the way the files were situated and ordered, it seemed that Bracken had gone through them and made sure they were to his liking.

  Nolan saw that each update was in order, starting with the most recent. The last one was…

  Nolan’s eyes went wide. The most recent one had been uploaded last night.

  All of the updates before this one had been under the column labeled verified. But this most recent one hadn’t been verified by Bracken, yet it had been uploaded to all of the update terminals throughout the city. This was a live update, meaning every actively commissioned robot would have received it within the last twenty-four hours.

  Nolan knew the protocol well. Every robot had a certain time it was supposed to get an update. The update included a memory wipe and a check to see if there were any additions to the archived memory. As far as Nolan could tell from looking at the updates, it seemed that most days simply required a memory wipe—putting the robot back to basic memories.

  Nolan opened the file to see the new update and was presented with a box that meant very little to him. There were a lot of codes and scripts he couldn’t understand. He would need a robot or another program just to see what was in it.

  He shook his head of the confusion, remembering that he was here, not to see what was already in the robots, but to give them something new.

  He pulled the hard drive out of his pocket and connected it to the computer terminal. There was only one file on the hard drive, and the program automatically recognized the codin
g. A message popped up on the screen in front of Nolan.

  Do you wish to implement the newest update file: SETSACRED1596? YES/NO.

  Nolan selected YES.

  The computer started working, and he could see the new file begin to upload. It was larger than the others before it. Much larger. Nolan had no idea how long this would take. His fingers tapped against the desk silently, his leg moving up and down as the stress traveled throughout his body.

  It took two minutes. Two stressful minutes. They felt like an eternity. When the program was ready, another message displayed across the screen.

  Updates can be implemented one zone at a time. Please select a zone: Northern. Western. Southern. Eastern.

  Nolan thought for a moment and then selected Southern.

  Uploading latest update to the Southern Zone Terminals. Please wait…

  Nolan waited. And waited. Ten percent. Fifteen percent. He wondered if this was normal or if it was because the file was so large. Thirty percent. Seventy-five percent.

  Finally: Southern Zone complete. Please select a zone: Northern. Western. Eastern.

  Nolan selected the Northern Zone and it began uploading. His heart pounded in his ears. He couldn’t believe this was working.

  His fingers kept tapping on the desk, his leg still moving up and down. But then something happened that seemed to freeze him in place. The message on the computer stayed at thirty percent. He waited for the number to rise, but it didn’t. He waited another thirty seconds before he realized that he had stopped breathing. It was like a clock that had stopped ticking, a train that had stopped moving. Nolan had no idea why.

  Finally, instead of increasing from thirty percent, the message disappeared altogether.

  The same message from earlier remained. Southern Zone complete. Please select a zone: Northern. Western. Eastern.

  Slowly, his options disappeared. First, there was no more Northern. Then, there was no Western. Finally, Eastern was gone. He had nothing to select. Then another message popped up.

  Deactivating Northern Zone Terminals…

  Deactivating Western Zone Terminals…

  “No, no, no!” Nolan yelled out involuntarily.

  Northern Zone Terminals deactivated.

  Western Zone Terminals deactivated.

  He selected a different menu and saw the commands for each zone. He tried to reactivate the terminals in the north and west, but they were grayed out.

  Deactivating Eastern Zone Terminals…

  Nolan swore. This time, he decided not to bother with the east terminals and immediately selected the southern terminals. He scanned the screen, searching for the command options. He mouthed the commands as he looked through them, angry that his limited knowledge of the program was costing him soldiers. He didn’t know who or what, but something or someone knew what Nolan was trying to do and it was trying to stop him.

  Finally, he spotted it: Isolate Southern Zone Terminals. Nolan selected the option and then a message popped up: Password:

  He swore again. He thought about what it could be. He shook his head, having no idea what Bracken might have used as a password.

  Another message: Eastern Zone Terminals deactivated.

  Password…password…

  But there was nothing on here that President Morris or Vaughn shouldn’t be able to access, right? Wasn’t it written into the network that the presidential access code should work for everything?

  He punched in the code and waited in front of the screen. If it didn’t work, there would be no soldiers. There would be no fight. The Outlanders would lose before they even got started.

  A new message showed up on the screen.

  Southern Zone Terminals isolated.

  Nolan let out a deep breath and leaned forward, pressing his forehead into the desk in front of him. It worked. The access code worked.

  He straightened himself up and looked at the screen again. All he would have was the Southern Zone robots. Even then, he had to make sure no one tampered with the terminals. Not until the robots had time to get their updates.

  A new thought entered Nolan’s mind. He looked through more menus, exploring his options. This entire program was meant to deliver updates and to command the robots within the city. This was Bracken’s command central.

  Nolan wondered…

  When he saw the option to give commands to the robots from this very seat, he couldn’t believe what he had stumbled upon. From here, he could change robot schedules and order them to certain positions within the city. But it seemed that all his access to the robots was restricted only to the Southern Zone—an unfortunate fact that Nolan couldn’t get around.

  Whoever was watching Nolan’s computer activity had figured out what he was doing and had tried to shut everything down. Now, all that remained active were the robots who lived among the Outlanders. So, when Nolan finally found out how to command all the robots to find the nearest Update Terminal and receive the mandatory download, he was quick to issue it.

  The command was immediately sent out. It was a shame he didn’t know about this before he had started. He realized that he was moments in either direction from having control over every robot, or control over none. He now held control over about a fourth.

  The computer told him that the estimated update time of compliance was one hour.

  One hour…

  Within the hour, the robots of the Southern Zone would know the truth. They would know about everything: the memory wipes, the history of the robots, who the enemy really was.

  Within an hour, they would have to choose sides. It was up to Nolan to help them decide.

  It wouldn’t take long for Bracken and the others to realize what had happened if they hadn’t already. Nolan would once again become a wanted man. He had the safety of being under President Lester Vaughn’s wing, but not for long. Soon, they would all be out. Morris would declare them enemies of Mainland. Soon, they might be dead. But the revolt was in motion.

  To him it seemed fitting that the only robots to know the full truth were of the Southern Zone, though he would have preferred all the zones. These robots were there among the Outlanders. The entire Southern Zone would be ready to fight.

  It had been a long shot and Nolan couldn’t believe it: the Outlanders actually stood a chance.

  36

  “The update got through to the Southern Zone,” N3034 said to Esroy. He looked up at his master, wishing there was an expression on the robot’s inscrutable face. “But it seems you were able to keep your new update intact for the other three zones.” Thirty-four bent over the computer that sat in the middle of the room. Esroy had done all the work, and Thirty-four was just assessing the situation as instructed.

  “I see,” Esroy said. “Was it Bracken?”

  Thirty-four shook his head. “There is no way to know. The commands were issued through Bracken’s computer, but it wouldn’t make sense for him to create a completely new update.”

  “He must have seen that I implemented an update without his knowledge.”

  “But he has never written an update himself,” Thirty-four said. This was the closest he had ever been to arguing with the master. He didn’t like doing it, so he bowed his head low. “Not to question your judgment.”

  “No,” Esroy said. “You’re right. Is there any way to see what the program entails?”

  “It’s closed,” Thirty-four said. “There is no way to access it. Just like the perpetrator has no access to our program.”

  “Then we have to assume that we lost the Southern Zone,” Esroy said. “What percent of the robots in the remaining zones have been updated?”

  “Ninety-eight percent,” Thirty-four answered.

  Esroy nodded in a rigid, unattractive motion. “That’s good enough for me.”

  N3034 wasn’t sure what was in store for all of them. He wasn’t completely sure he knew what Esroy was planning. He had uploaded the program without Bracken’s permission. It was a simple program, more of the same b
ut for three new directives:

  1. Esroy is in command. The robots are to look to Esroy for guidance and direction. Bracken and others in authority come second to Esroy.

  2. The Outlanders are the enemy. The Outlanders have always been the enemy. They will always be the enemy. Their assault five years ago was a travesty upon Mainland and the situation needed to be fixed. Robots must wait for further instruction from Esroy.

  3. The Outlander conflict five years ago brought about a powerful enemy named Des. Des was successful in defeating Esroy, but Esroy was too powerful to be gone forever. Now, Des continues his terror and must be stopped at all costs. The destruction of Des is imperative to winning against the Outlanders. Defeat Des, defeat the Outlanders. However, all robots must wait instruction from Esroy.

  Of course, there were other new additions. Esroy programmed a way for all of the robots to be able to confirm that he was indeed Esroy when they saw him.

  Esroy’s new body would be emitting a signal on a frequency that each of the newly programmed robots would be able to identify. If they detected the frequency, they would know Esroy was near and they would be able to spot him.

  This had been Thirty-four’s idea and Esroy had commended him for it. “You have done well,” the master had told him. “I see a very bright future for you.”

  Thirty-four couldn’t help but wonder what the master had meant by that, but the prospect excited him.

  Esroy stood straight and stared at Thirty-four. “Is it ready?”

  “It is,” Thirty-four said. “Are you ready for it?”

  “I am.”

  Thirty-four smiled and walked to the other side of the room, allowing the heavy door to swing wide after he punched in the code. There were other robots waiting outside to get a glimpse of Esroy. Most of them had never seen him. Others had seen him but wanted another look.

  Thirty-four walked ahead of the master, clearing the way for Esroy as he hobbled slowly behind. The corridor was fully lined with robots. Hundreds of them all cheering as Esroy walked through, all of them looking exactly the same but for the numbers on their shoulder plates.