Prototype Exodus (Prototype D Series Book 2)

by Jason D. Morrow

  Des turned his head to look at the people who were still awake and ready for war. Their numbers were small compared to their enemy’s, but their passion was greater. Des hoped that was enough.

  41

  Nolan hadn’t seen any sign of General Bracken or President Morris for the last twenty-four hours and their absence was starting to make him nervous.

  He sat in President Lester Vaughn’s office in the chair across from him at his desk. Lester looked about as exhausted as Nolan felt.

  “I’m not a hundred percent sure why you’re still here,” Nolan said. “Soon, it’s going to get dangerous for us both.”

  “It’s already dangerous for us both,” Lester said. “Our game is up. The rest lies in the hands of Hazel and her robot, Des. Your part is to get as much information as possible about the enemies we face and relay that to the Southern Zone. My job is to hold off our enemies for as long as I can.”

  “But our enemies aren’t here,” Nolan said.

  Lester held his palms upward. “So, here we are, waiting.”

  “The Council thinks we are risking too much too quickly,” Lester said.

  “The Council?” Nolan shook his head. He hadn’t thought about the council in years, much less had he and Lester talked about them. Yet, Lester spoke of them as if it was common in their conversation. “There is still a Council?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Lester said. “Of course there is.”

  Nolan shook his head. The Council was a group of three individuals, the identity of which no one knew. These three supposedly led the Outlanders and made determinations for everything they did. Nolan had even met with them on a couple of occasions, but he had not seen their faces, and their voices had been masked. Nolan always felt like he had been working independently of the Outlander Council, especially since Lester had become a co-president of Mainland. But it seemed Lester still spoke with them and gathered their opinions.

  “When exactly do you talk with them?” Nolan asked.

  “Well, it’s much easier than it used to be,” Lester answered. “Communication is a lot easier in Mainland.”

  “How much of what we do is influenced by them?” Nolan asked.

  Lester shook his head. “I’m sorry I mentioned them, Nolan. Clearly you are not keen on their opinions.”

  Nolan remembered a similar conversation he had with Hazel about five years ago. Nolan had told her about the Council and she didn’t like the sound of them. She didn’t like that someone was making decisions from the shadows. Now, Nolan felt like he was in her shoes, suddenly curious about the extent of their power and wondering how much Lester actually listened to them.

  “You’re not just a puppet, are you?” Nolan asked.

  Lester’s face twisted into a sort of grimace. “Of course not,” he snapped. “They are a group of wise people who have very good suggestions.”

  “Well, did they suggest that you let the Outlanders sit and stay quiet in the Southern Zone all these years?”

  Lester stared at Nolan with a firm jaw. Nolan knew he had overstepped his bounds, but this wasn’t a game. These were people’s lives, and it was no secret that Lester had not been the most influential in getting the Outlanders more freedom.

  “I’ve defended you for so long,” Nolan said. “I can’t tell you how many people I have told that you have been working so hard just to keep the Outlanders where they are—that if it wasn’t for you, they would have been kicked out of Mainland long ago.”

  “And do you believe what you tell them?” Lester asked.

  “I used to.”

  “I’m sad to hear this coming from you,” Lester said. “Seems a bit sudden.”

  Nolan shook his head. “It’s just…” He sighed. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. It’s just that I feel like we could have done this a long time ago. And now you’re talking about the Council and I just fear that we are doing whatever they want us to do.”

  “The Council isn’t the power of the Outlanders,” Lester said. “They are just a group of old Outlanders who don’t want their faces known. They rule in secret, but their ruling consists less of power and more of opinion. They represent the voice of the people because they live among the people. They are Outlander citizens. In a way, it is the best form of governance.”

  “But they haven’t been making decisions for you?” Nolan asked.

  “No,” Lester said. “I have made my own decisions, for good or ill.”

  Nolan and Lester continued to sit together, the feeling of inaction starting to get to them. Nolan wondered if it would be better for them to go to the Southern Zone and forget all about the office of the president, forget appearances. It was a long shot that Nolan would get substantial information from Bracken about his army. It was an even longer shot that Lester would be able to delay Bracken from taking action.

  But they had to try.

  The rumbling of vehicles and the rattling of the window behind Lester broke into their conversation. The two of them moved to the window to search for the source of the noise and it took no effort to see what it was.

  A convoy rolled into the parking area of the Presidential Quarters. Nolan counted at least fifteen canvas-covered trucks. Bracken and a large robot stepped out from the front two. The robot looked nothing like the sea of N-series robots piling out of the other trucks.

  Nolan didn’t want to say it, but he knew immediately that the large robot was none other than Esroy.

  Nolan swore.

  “They aren’t here to negotiate terms,” Lester said.

  “We need to get out of here,” Nolan said. “I wasn’t sure if Esroy was working with Bracken, but it appears they’ve struck some sort of deal.” He slammed the side of his fist into the wall next to the window.

  “I can’t leave,” Lester said. “I still have a job to do here.”

  “We can still get out through the lower levels,” Nolan said. “My truck has access to the back street. We only have a minute or two, but that’s all we need.”

  Lester shook his head. “It appears Bracken and Esroy are working together. That means they control all the zones but for the Southern Zone, not to mention Bracken’s elite soldiers.”

  “What are you doing?” Nolan asked.

  “The only reason you’re here is to assess Bracken’s strength,” Lester said. “That’s all the information you’re going to get. Now, you need to leave.”

  “I’m not going to leave you behind,” Nolan said.

  “My job is to stall them for as long as I can,” Lester said. “You have finished yours, now go. That’s an order.”

  Nolan felt stunned. Seeing Bracken and Esroy through the window, it was hard not to think that they were on a warpath. His and Vaughn’s lives were in danger.

  “They’re going to arrest you,” Nolan said.

  “No,” Lester answered. “They are probably going to kill me.” He turned and set a hand on Nolan’s shoulder. “Let it inspire the people to fight harder.”

  Nolan reached for Lester’s hand and squeezed it. It felt like betrayal leaving him like this, but the man was right. There was no point in Nolan staying. He would be more of an asset to the Outlanders if he was with them rather than being a martyr. And it was actually possible that Lester would buy them more time.

  Nolan made his way to the office door and looked back one more time.

  “Get the Outlanders to the military compound,” Lester said. “Everything depends on it.”

  “I will,” Nolan said.

  Lester turned back to the window and stared out. Nolan slipped into the hallway, never to see his friend again.

  42

  These sewers seemed strange with no robots inhabiting them. N3034 had gotten used to them teeming with life as Esroy’s followers had grown over the years. Now, they were all on the surface, doing everything as the master wished.

  He wondered if any of them felt as dedicated to the master as Thirty-four was. Thirty-four would do anything for the master. He was doing any
thing for the master. In fact, N3034 had the most dangerous job out of all the robots, and that might even include Esroy himself.

  Oh, that’s bad. I really shouldn’t think that.

  He knew these tunnels by heart. They were not programmed into any of the robots, rather they had to be learned. Over the years, Thirty-four had traveled to nearly every part of the city through the tunnels and he knew how to get into the Southern Zone easy enough.

  Try giving this job to any other robot up there with you, Master. Any of them would be lost within an hour.

  N3034 wasn’t lost. He knew exactly where he was and he knew exactly when it would be safe to open the manhole and reach the surface. At least, he used to know. The Southern Zone was more than likely in an uproar of sorts. Patrols probably were not carried out as they were before. People were probably walking about the streets with no restrictions.

  But Thirty-four did not fear. There were enough abandoned side streets inside the Southern Zone that he didn’t have to worry.

  Once there, he climbed the ladder until he reached the manhole. With a sharp push, daylight broke through the darkness and the cool morning air hit his face. He looked in every direction, and just as he had thought, there was no one around. He lifted the manhole cover and slid it to the side as quietly as one could against the grating asphalt. He then climbed to the surface, and gently replaced the manhole cover to its original position.

  This was all he needed. He was in. Since he looked like the rest of the N-series robots, he had nothing to fear. He would do what the master had instructed him to do, gather as much information as possible, and report back as often as he could.

  N3034 walked the streets slowly. The more he walked, the more people he encountered. None of them seemed to pay him much attention. One or two had blue paint spread across their faces or limbs. Others were asleep in the streets. He even crossed a few people who were dancing next to a fire.

  A celebration had happened here. But what had they been celebrating? Des’ speech? Hazel’s? Thirty-four thought they were hardly inspiring. And surely they knew they didn’t have the numbers to pull off such a war. The master had enough forces to wipe them all out. It was only a matter of time before their celebration turned into cries for mercy. The master would give them none. But then, it was a matter of time before all humanity was crying out for mercy. Thirty-four saw it the way Esroy saw it. Humans were only here for a short time. The lifespan for a robot depended on how much trouble he got into.

  As Thirty-four continued through the Southern Zone, he noticed that all the other N-series robots had scratched off their shoulder markings. None of them could be told apart. And they also wore the blue paint on their faces, limbs, or torsos. The sight was revolting.

  But Thirty-four had to get into character or he would be discovered. As much as he hated to do it, he pressed his shoulder against the brick wall of one of the buildings nearest him, and he slid his shoulder back and forth. He looked down every few seconds and he kept scraping it until there was nothing left but bright metallic marks and a red residue from the brick.

  He moved closer to where a group of people had gathered, and found an abandoned can of blue paint—the same kind that so many had put on themselves. Thirty-four understood it as a show of support. He knew that it was a symbol of unity. But he couldn’t help but scoff at the fact that blue was the color because that was all that was available to them at the moment. It had no real significance. Had someone brought out the color green, all the people would be green. Pink, pink. Orange, orange.

  Blue it was. Thirty-four dipped his hand into the paint can, getting all four of his digits wet. He then smeared the paint on his cheeks and over his scraped shoulder just for good measure.

  There. He was one of them now. None of them would know the difference. None of them would know that an enemy walked among them, that he would be feeding any and all information to the master.

  N3034 was more important to the cause than any other robot in the city. He was willing to go the extra mile. He was willing to do things that no one else was. This was what made him special, not his missing small finger. His willingness to serve was what made him different from any of them.

  By this time, a rather large crowd had gathered near the Southern Zone entrance. Person and robot alike had all flocked around two figures who stood on a small platform, raised just enough so that everyone below them could get a glimpse. They all wanted to see who these revolutionaries were.

  If only you knew the truth, Thirty-four thought to himself. Thirty-four knew the truth. He knew that these idiots just wanted power. He knew that they didn’t care anything about the Outlanders. He wondered how many of them realized that Hazel was the creator of a robot who was built to destroy them. That was his purpose from the beginning. And Hazel knew that was his purpose. How dumb did the people have to be to trust them?

  Thirty-four stood among the crowd and listened as person and robot alike asked question after question. Most of the time it seemed that neither Des nor Hazel knew what they were doing. Every answer sounded vague and they both looked as if they were making them up on the spot.

  There were times that they spoke with passion and fortitude. There were other times when they were stammering over their words, unable to coherently lay out their plans for the people.

  Perhaps Thirty-four was just being biased. That or the Outlanders didn’t care. They seemed happy just to have someone leading them.

  Leading them to their deaths, Thirty-four thought.

  Questions ranged from, How long have you been planning a revolt? to Why has it taken you so long to come back? This, Thirty-four guessed, was in reference to Des’ five-year-long absence from Mainland. That was when Des went into his sad sob story of one certain nuclear blast that destroyed his favorite village.

  For the next twenty minutes, Thirty-four listened and he didn’t feel like he was getting the valuable information that he needed. He wanted something real to report to the master when he called in.

  So, since he was one of them, or at least looked the part, he raised his four-fingered hand in the air. It only took a couple of seconds before Des turned to Thirty-four and pointed. “Yes, another question?”

  “Yes,” Thirty-four said. “I was wondering, what is your…excuse me…our plan now? We have gathered here in support. We want to fight any way we can. Where will we take the fight first?”

  Des looked at Hazel for a brief moment and then looked back at Thirty-four. “We aren’t a hundred percent certain,” he said, “but it is very likely that we will take the fight directly to the heart of the city first. If we can take over the military compound, then we can get weapons and have a secure defense against any attack.”

  Someone else: “Won’t that be difficult?”

  “This is war,” Des said, “every part of this will be difficult. But if we can take the military compound, we will have an advantage. And we have to strike before they know it’s coming, or we will never take it.”

  Thirty-four raised a hand again.

  Des pointed at him.

  “When will we strike?”

  Des stared at him for a long moment. It was a strange feeling, Thirty-four thought. It was as if he was trying to judge the robot, to see if he was genuine. Des’ eyes narrowed just slightly, only to allow his features to soften and a smile to come across his face.

  “Soon,” Des said. “Very soon.”

  43

  “Where is the snake?” Bracken fumed. He stared at the back of Lester’s head, and the president wouldn’t look at him as he stared out the window.

  “Are you referring to my assistant?” Lester asked.

  “Nolan,” Bracken said. “Where is he?”

  “I imagine he’s well on the other side of the Southern Zone wall by now,” he said. Bracken looked back near the door where Esroy leaned against the wall. There were a few other N-series robots in the room while the others were searching every inch of the building for Nolan.

&nb
sp; “How long have the two of you been planning this?” Bracken asked. “Months? Years?”

  “Planning what?” Lester said. He finally turned and looked at Bracken. “The rebellion? Why on earth would I want the people to rebel like they have? How long have I fought just to keep them in the city?”

  “His blood pressure is rising,” Esroy said. “His breathing is quickening. He’s nervous. I think he’s lying.”

  “Well, of course I’m nervous,” Lester said. “You would be too if a group of robots stormed your office with their guns drawn.”

  “I say we kill him and be done with it,” Esroy said.

  Bracken’s head snapped toward Esroy. “We will do no such thing. There is a proper way to do things around here and that’s not it.” He looked back at the helpless president. “Not yet, at least.”

  “The two of you speak of treason,” Lester said. “What you’re doing right now could get you executed.”

  “And who’s going to do it?” Esroy barked. “You?”

  “What is going on here?”

  All heads turned to find President Morris stumbling into the room. The man stopped in his tracks when he saw Esroy.

  “Oh,” he said. He turned toward Bracken and repeated, “What is going on here?”

  “I’m sure you saw the screens?” Esroy said.

  “Of course I did. It’s a problem we must address, but I don’t see why you’re invading every space of the Presidential Quarters.”

  Esroy motioned to Bracken. “It was his idea.”

  “We’re looking for Nolan.”

  “You’re never going to find him,” Lester said. “He’s gone. He’s done. He’s on the other side and he’s not coming back.”

  “And I’m sure you support this group of usurpers?” Morris said.

  Lester lowered his head and eased himself into his chair at the desk. He then sat straight and looked Morris in the eyes. “I don’t support anything that doesn’t come to a vote.”