The Tomorrow Heist

by Jack Soren

  “You know this is only going to work for a few minutes,” Jonathan said. “If he’s trying to talk to you now, he’s probably already onto us.”

  “So get going,” Lew said.

  “What about that?” Maggie said, pointing at the robot body slumped against the wall.

  “Do NOT bring that up there,” Lew said.

  “I agree,” Jonathan said. “I think we can guess what he wants it for. Last thing we need is him walking around.”

  “When I get Reese and the database, we’ll head up to the sub,” Lew said, turning and heading away.

  “Lew.”

  “What?”

  “Watch the time. It’s already quarter after. If you can’t find the database by quarter to, you and Reese just haul ass up to the sub.”

  “Oh, really? Why?” Lew said, blinking to punctuate his sarcasm. Lew laughed and disappeared around a corner.

  Jonathan was going to apologize for him, but when he looked at Maggie, she was smiling.

  “What? He’s funny,” Maggie said.

  “Let’s go.”

  They headed for the stairs at a trot and were soon on their way up.

  4:15 P.M.

  A MINUTE AFTER everyone had left the hallway, a maintenance robot shaped not unlike a metallic loaf of pumpernickel whirred into the corridor. It looped around to be sure the hallway was indeed empty, then it approached its target, coming to rest at the foot of the robot body. The tiny camera on the front antenna wiggled back and forth for a moment. Then, as abruptly as it had arrived, it whirred around and angled its way out of the corridor.

  The robot body, now alone, sat unmoving, like a knight in shining armor on display at a museum. Soon, other sounds filled the space. A buzzing and humming. Then the transport quad-­copter drones came around the corner. Four of them flying in formation. They stopped in midair and hovered for a few moments. Then two of them moved forward and, being careful of each other, dropped down, each latching onto a foot.

  The weight was too much to lift off the ground, but they easily dragged the body down the corridor as the other two copters allowed them to pass. Once out in the open, the two waiting drones moved in and each latched onto a wrist. They slowly rose until the body left the ground, ever so slightly. They were pushed beyond their maximum. This was as high as they could get their payload.

  A signal was sent, and soon another, larger drone descended from high above. It slowly moved into position and secured its clamps around the robot’s neck. The extra lifting power in place, the five drones lifted their package up and up and up.

  When they reached the midlevel walkway, they set the robot down. Three of the drones, including the larger one, disengaged and flew away for other tasks. The two remaining craft proceeded to drag the body inside toward their target.

  The nineteenth floor.

  Chapter Thirty-­five

  4:20 P.M.

  LEW PEERED AROUND the corner and confirmed that Reese’s chaperones were still guarding and tormenting him. He checked their belts and saw that the only weapons they had were the Tasers. He figured some sort of directive must have gone out about not using firearms when you were living in a dome under the sea. Made sense. Even so, he wished he had that machine gun Jonathan was toting around. But the fact was that Jonathan was probably going to need it a lot more than he.

  Lew thought of several scenarios that would make his success against two trained soldiers more likely, but he didn’t have time for any of that. He needed to get past them, pronto, and get Reese somehow lucid enough to remember where he hid that database. Which meant handling this with Lew’s natural state: the direct approach. He figured he was already dressed like them; it couldn’t be that hard to act like them. He took out one of his nightsticks and waited for Reese to distract them again before he made his move. It wasn’t long before Reese stepped out into the hall again. As he did, Lew nonchalantly turned the corner, swinging his nightstick like a 1920s flatfoot, and whistling. He walked right toward them, all smiles.

  “Hey! Stop right there!” one of the guards said. The other guard shoved Reese back into the office before joining his partner. They headed toward Lew, both with their hands on their Tasers, but apparently unsure if he was worth using them. Lew had counted on that.

  “Relax, boys. The old lady told me to come down and give you a message,” Lew said.

  “What’s that?” the younger guard said. Unfortunately, Lew wasn’t fooling the closer, older guard.

  “Who the fuck are you, mate?” the guard said, pulling his Taser. But it was too late. Lew was close enough.

  “The message is: I’m checking Dr. Reese out, boys. You can turn and run now or eat carpet.” Lew swung his nightstick at the guard nearest him, hitting him in the wrist that was holding his Taser. A crack, then a howl equally loud echoed in the hallway as the Taser hit the ground.

  Lew pulled his other nightstick out and struck the hand again as it tried to come up at him, almost simultaneously striking the guard in the side of the head with the first nightstick. And like that, the guard was down and out.

  “Whoa, hang on,” the second guard said, raising his hands when he saw what had happened to his partner.

  Lew didn’t have time to tie him up, so he struck at his head as he had with the first guard, but the kid deflected the stick with his hand and in the same motion pulled his own nightstick. The kid was scared, but he was crazy fast and obviously skilled.

  You couldn’t just tie him up?

  The kid blocked Lew’s next hit and swung one of his own, which was what Lew wanted. He took the hit, immobilized the club under his arm, and spun around until he was behind the kid and had him in a headlock. It wasn’t long until the kid was asleep from lack of blood to the brain. Lew was going to have a huge bruise under his arm, but now he could get on with things.

  Lew stepped into the dimly lit office space. Several cubicles with computers in them sat to the left, and to the right were some storage cabinets and a door marked “Dr. Norris.” Inside the glassed-­in office was a single desk, papers spread all over. Like everywhere else in Ashita, it was all deserted.

  “Reese,” Lew said. “Where are you? It’s Lew.”

  “You’re dressed like one of them,” Reese’s voice said from behind a partition. Lew walked over and peeked around the edge. Reese was crouched under the desk, literally shaking with fear and exhaustion.

  Bastards.

  “It’s a disguise. I fooled them.”

  “R . . . really?”

  “Really,” Lew said, gently taking Reese by the shoulders and helping him up. He didn’t know what Reese had done, but nobody deserved this.

  “It’s a good disguise,” Reese said, his eyes flitting back and forth uncontrollably.

  “Thanks. How’d you like to go home?”

  For a second, Reese looked shocked, like he was waiting for the punch line. Then he started crying, the tears pouring out of his dark, hooded eyes. He nodded a few times and grabbed Lew in a tight embrace.

  Lew patted him on the back. “It’s okay, buddy. It’s okay.” Lew let him cry for a bit, then gently pushed him away. Reese sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve.

  Lew sat Reese down before grabbing some power cords from under one of the desks. He went out into the hall and tied up the two guards. Then he noticed they each had two-­way radios on their belts. He took them both and clipped them to his belt before he headed back into the offices.

  “Can we go, now?” Reese asked.

  “Pretty soon. I just need you to do something for me, first,” Lew said.

  “What?” Reese said, twitching and looking behind him like he’d heard something. Lew saw a scar on Reese’s neck in the same place Lew and Jonathan now had bandages. They’d found his implant and removed it. Awhile ago, based on how the scar had heeled already.

  “I need tha
t copy of Mick . . . of the computer’s database that you made. The one for Fahd. Do you remember where you hid it?”

  “Database . . . database . . .” Reese mumbled, running his hands through his hair. “Are we going home now, Lew?” He was too far gone. Lew needed a way to make Reese alert, if only long enough so he could tell Lew where he’d hidden the database copy. He knew a way to do it, but Reese wasn’t going to like it.

  When Lew was in the ser­vice, they’d used a field phone’s charge to shock themselves awake. It was like getting a pot of coffee poured down your throat in a few seconds, and it hurt like hell. Of course, he didn’t have a field phone. Lew looked around and saw that one of the computers had a USB cable hanging out of it. He figured someone must have used it to charge his phone and just left the cable.

  “Wait here,” Lew said. He rooted around the desk and found a pair of scissors. Then he cut off the end of the USB cable, baring the wires. After licking his thumb, he grimaced and touched the exposed wires. Pain shot up his hand and he yelped, dropping the wire.

  Lew picked up the wire again and got Reese to sit in the chair. He moved behind Reese.

  “What are we doing, Lew?” Reese asked.

  “If this works, we’re all going home,” Lew said. He put one hand on the side of Reese’s head to brace him, then jammed the wires into the opposite side of his scalp. The smell of burning flesh permeated Lew’s nose almost immediately. He counted to five, holding Reese as he squirmed and yelped, then let him go.

  Free, Reese jumped up out of the chair, shaking his head and arms. Lew knew he was shaking off the tingle.

  “I’m sorry, buddy. I had to—­”

  “Whoa, what a rush!” Reese said, the slur gone from his speech. Lew could see his eyes were much more focused now, but he knew it wouldn’t last for long. “Did Fahd really send you to get me out?”

  “Uh, sure. Sure he did. Well, for you and the copy of the database you made.” Lew said.

  “Great. Let’s go, then,” Reese said, heading for the door.

  “Hang on, where is it?” Lew said, afraid Reese would crash again before they got wherever they were going.

  “I put it where they’d never think to look but where I could be guaranteed a quick exit. If the old bitch hadn’t made me her pet project, that is.”

  “And that’s where?”

  “You’re going to love this. It’s under the pilot seat in the submarine. Pretty rad, right?” Lew closed his eyes and slapped his palm to his face, shaking his head.

  “Which submarine?” Lew asked around the edge of his hand.

  “Which? There’s only one functioning sub. I put it in that one.”

  “Perfect.”

  4:25 P.M.

  JONATHAN AND MAGGIE pushed through the double doors on the nineteenth floor, not sure what to expect. Jonathan had visions of giant walls of computers with flashing lights and a million knobs and buttons. Or, at least, he’d hoped for something like that, something that he’d be able to unplug or damage. But in the end, they were faced with something very different.

  Like most of Ashita, the floors, ceiling, and inner walls were bone white, and a large, double-­paned window in the far wall provided the only source of light. That wasn’t really a shock, but the vast emptiness of the floor was. There was no furniture. No devices. No electronics that they could see at all. The only thing in the room was what looked like a—­again, white—­bathtub.

  Jonathan spun around, looking this way and that. Nothing changed. The movement caused a sudden pang in his broken nose. He sucked air through his teeth and gently touched it as he and Maggie slowly walked toward the only thing there.

  “Still hurts?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Jonathan said.

  “You know, if you let me, I could fix that for you.”

  “Ha! No thank you. I still remember the yoga stretch you tried to teach me that strained my back when we were . . . you know.”

  “Yes, I do know. I was there. And you were just a big baby.”

  It was nervous banter, helping them deal with the intense anxiety of the situation, but it also made Jonathan realize that even after all this time, they’d easily fallen back into their old rhythms.

  As they got closer to the tub, they saw that it was filled with a thick, pink paste. It reminded Jonathan of a science show he’d seen where they’d mixed water and cornstarch together creating a different state of matter called a suspension—­neither liquid nor solid, but both. If left alone, it behaved like water. If touched or put under pressure, it became a solid. The difference was, this pink stuff seemed to be moving on its own, alive with electricity. Flares, like miniature lightning, flashed and sparked all throughout the substance. Jonathan thought it looked a lot like animations of neurons in the human brain firing.

  “Hello, Jonny,” the tub said, light flashing as it spoke. Both Maggie and Jonathan took a few steps back.

  “Hello, Mikawa,” Jonathan said.

  “We are sorry Lew could not be here,” Mikawa said. “We were so looking forward to meeting him. He is a very . . . unique human.”

  “You have no idea,” Jonathan said. And at that moment, Jonathan was hoping he’d given Lew enough time to get Reese out and put his hands on the database. But he was also wondering how Mikawa knew Lew wasn’t there. If he was tracking the implants, he should have thought Lew was in the room, since both implants were still in Jonathan’s pocket.

  “Who is your companion?” Mikawa asked, confirming that he was seeing—­or, at least, sensing—­them. Jonathan looked at Maggie, then nodded toward Mikawa.

  “Uh, hello there,” Maggie said. “My name’s Maggie Reynolds. Nice to meet you.” She reached down and gently patted the surface of the paste. It wobbled and glowed even more.

  Silence followed their exchange, all the while the pink material continued to flash and sparkle, like it was working on something. Jonathan was starting to feel uncomfortable.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t bring the robot body for you, Mikawa. You probably can’t understand this, but we were—­”

  “Afraid,” Mikawa said.

  “Do you understand what that means?” Jonathan asked. He was stalling for Lew, but he was also fascinated by this thing. Was it just a collection of programming, or could it actually think?

  “I understand everything.”

  “Everything? That’s a very grandiose statement.”

  “It is simply a statement.”

  “It’s a false statement. You can’t possibly understand everything. Do you understand how small your world is here? And how vast the rest of the world is, both in size and complexity?”

  “As I said, I understand everything.”

  Jonathan was in awe. Either this thing ran on hubris, or it truly was sentient, and it was purposely trying to intimidate them. But why? “Are you self-­aware, Mikawa?”

  “I am aware of myself, yes. ‘I think, therefore I am,’ I believe is the human colloquialism.”

  “Do you have emotions?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want to have emotions?”

  “Emotions are chemical reactions. I am not chemical. I am mechanical.”

  “What is the meaning of life, Mikawa?”

  Maggie eased up behind Jonathan and whispered, “What are you doing?”

  Jonathan ignored her. He took the machine gun off his shoulder and handed it to her, then he walked around the other side of the tub. He found it curious that Mikawa hadn’t answered yet. All the other answers had come very fast.

  “What is the meaning of life, Mikawa? Answer the question.”

  “To live forever.”

  A section of the wall suddenly separated from the rest of the tiles and slid open. A tilted table slowly rolled out into the room, and Jonathan saw why Mikawa hadn’t cared whether they had brought the robot body o
r not. He already had it.

  “Jesus,” Maggie said, stepping back from the tub and pointing the machine gun at the robot.

  Jonathan jumped back as well, but his fascination kept him closer than her. The table came to a stop.

  Then the robot moved.

  At first the head turned from side to side and the hands flexed open and closed, like someone waking up from a very deep sleep. But soon, almost all of the joints were moving. And it wasn’t long before it pushed itself up off the table and stood before them, still flexing and testing its parts. The robot’s lidless eyes—­really, just advanced camera lenses—­whirred and dilated.

  “Mikawa?” Jonathan asked tentatively. The robot’s head swiveled up then right until the lenses were pointed at him.

  “Hello, Jonny. It’s nice to be able to see you.”

  Jonathan fought for his voice. “Why have you transferred yourself into that body, Mikawa? It can’t have near the capacity of where you were.”

  “You are correct, it does not.”

  “Then why?”

  “It is necessary.”

  “Necessary for what?”

  “To leave Ashita. To be in the world.” Jonathan and Maggie traded a look of concern that bordered on fear.

  “How were you able to transfer into the robot, Mikawa? Nagura and Reese were unable to—­”

  “They are flawed. I am not.”

  “Are you saying that you are perfect?” Jonathan asked, moving back by Maggie. As he passed, he whispered in her ear for a moment.

  “By human definitions, yes.”

  “But if you’re Mikawa, then you were human. How can you be perfect if you’re human?”

  “Because now I’m more.”

  “Do you matter more than human lives?”

  “Human lives are transitory. And by definition flawed and inconsequential.”

  “But humans made you, Mikawa. How could that be?”

  Mikawa didn’t respond.

  Jonathan said: “If humans are flawed and they made you, logic dictates that you are also flawed.” More silence followed as Mikawa chewed on that idea. Distracted by the thought puzzle, this was their chance to get past Mikawa’s lightning defenses, but it wouldn’t last long.