Brobots

  He held Jared in place with one hand gripping the back of his neck. With a free hand, he pulled down on Jared’s jeans. This can’t be happening. I can hardly breathe. Jared’s eyes were wide now, and he was sweating in fear. Jared then felt Chuck’s dick push against the top of his ass; just above his hole. Thirty seconds more and he’d be being raped.

  With a fuck almost beginning, Chuck had more things to think about than pinning Jared down. Jared felt the pressure lift on one of his legs. He took his chance, moving it free. Bending a knee, he was able to lever himself to one side. With a shake and a shove taking all his might he was free, up, yanking on his jeans so that he could run. Running.

  --

  Jared ran in through the back door of the house and in to the kitchen; then through the hall to a room off the lounge. He opened the door quickly, startling Byron, Tasley, Harris and Jo who were sitting down around a table looking at maps of the farm.

  ‘Jared! What’s up?’ Oh no! Something’s wrong.

  Jared couldn’t talk. He was out of breath. Something else. Panic. Fear. He crouched over and put his hands on his knees.

  ‘Jared?’ Byron stood, pushing the chair back so quickly that it fell backwards onto the floor. He rushed over, putting his hand on Jared’s back. Then Jared heaved, making an impressive mess of sick on the linoleum floor. The others just watched, stunned. Jared heaved again and again until there was no more to sick up and he was just trying to bring up his own stomach.

  When he’d stopped heaving, he stayed down. Byron took him gently, pulling him upwards and into his arms. ‘What is it, Jared? What’s wrong?’ Byron had never seen sick before. He feared that death was coming for his man.

  ‘Chuck….’

  ‘Chuck?’

  ‘Yeah. He… I was…’ Jared looked into Byron’s hazel eyes and wanted to disappear. ‘I took a walk over the fields – the places we walked yesterday. Then I found the barn with all the farming gear. I was just in there looking around and then Chuck found me there. He… he tried to rape me.’

  ‘Rape you? Are you kidding me?’

  Jared just looked at him. He didn’t need to repeat himself. Byron looked at the men, not knowing what to do or say. Shock had taken him over. Tasley, on the other hand, had a clear head. ‘I knew something was wrong. We need to go find that sick shit. Now!’

  ‘I’m coming with you.’

  Tasley jumped up and headed for the door. Byron followed, then turned back. ‘Wait here. Harris? Can you…?’

  ‘I’m on it, Byron. Don’t worry.’ Harris looked from Byron to the pile of sick and back to Byron, adding, ‘He’ll be okay.’ Harris then stood and headed round to Jared to be there for him and comfort him. Turning back, Byron legged it out to catch up with Tasley.

  They ran out the front and across to the first field. Byron wasn’t absolutely sure where the barn was, but he had an idea. There was more than one outbuilding, but the barn with the tools had to be the largest; and he’d spotted that yesterday just like Jared had. Chuck might not be there by now, of course, but he wouldn’t have gone far. Neither would have he dared to venture off the farm; stupid idiot. ‘This way.’ Byron took the lead, with Tasley following close behind. They were big guys, but they could run fast.

  Byron was first to the barn. He ran inside, stopping momentarily while his eyes adjusted. Tasley did the same. They looked under sheets, round corners, but Chuck had gone. ‘What now?’ Byron asked.

  ‘We keep looking. Splitting’s probably not a good idea. Come on!’ Tasley took the lead again, heading out and across the field – moving further away from the house. Byron followed, kicking up dirt and breaking weeds. On the far side leading up to some hedges and trees, they spotted him. Hearing the barn door shut, he turned their way and spotted them. His jog turned to a run. The chase was on.

  Chuck was a good runner too. They all were. But Chuck being shorter meant that Byron and Tasley had the slight advantage. It took another field to get to him, but they got there. Now he was just a few feet away. ‘I’m sorry!’, he shouted over his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry!’

  It made no difference to Byron. In the time it had taken him to reach Chuck from the barn a rage had switched on in him like he’d never known before. He knew it to be rage, to be anger. But strong like this it was a different animal altogether. It gave him power he didn’t know he could have. Tasley felt the same. Stoked and ready to fight.

  Tasley reached him first, jumping forward in the air to take him down to the ground face first in one swoop. Chuck was able to turn over to face his opponent. It made his hands and arms free, but he was in no position to defend himself. Tasley laid the first punch he’d ever given in his short life. It felt good, like his rage needed to feed on it. Another punch to the face. Chuck yelped. ‘Please!’ Tasley just straddled him, punching again and again. The skin on Chuck’s cheek split, baring carbon fiber, micro-tissue and wires. With his eyes wide, Chuck yelped again. ‘Please! No!’

  Tasley was surprised at his own violence on some level. On others he didn’t have time to reflect. It was odd causing damage to one of his kind; somehow horrifying. But it wasn’t enough to calm his rage. ‘You need a go?’ Tasley looked up with righteous anger at Byron, who nodded. Tasley stood and stepped off, wiping his nose. All the rage Byron had in him shot up then like an electricity surge on a power line. He landed a kick to Chuck’s side, causing an immediate dent and an invisible shorting of small components. ‘Stop!’ Then he knelt, landing his first ever punch into Chuck’s chest. Chuck let out the air with a scream. ‘No! I can explain!’

  ‘Bit late for that’, Tasley remarked, standing to observe behind them. Byron punched again. Again. The third time there was a snapping sound. Something had ruptured in Chuck’s torso. A dent had turned into a shred and a hole beneath his checked shirt. Cables shorted causing Chuck to jolt his whole body and stutter his words. A little smoke danced from Chuck’s shirt cloth. ‘Pl..pl..please no!’

  Byron wasn’t sure then, subconsciously, how far to take this. Some kind of morality was beginning to kick in and mix with his rage. He wanted to teach a lesson. He wanted to protect Jared. Did he want Chuck destroyed? He wasn’t sure. As if to echo Byron’s slight hesitation, Tasley spoke behind him.

  ‘How far you taking this, dude? You gotta know now. You want to destroy him – he’s all yours, bro.’

  Did he? Did he want to destroy him forever? Could he even do it?

  With the mixture of emotions swirling inside, Byron stood. If he didn’t want Chuck destroyed, he’d have to inflict damage somewhere less critical than the torso. The urge to keep acting on his anger was still so strong, however, so he went for a leg. He tore at Chuck’s cotton cargos while grabbing a hold. Putting one boot foot on the thigh he grabbed the shin and started to pull up. Chuck’s eyes went wider as he realized what was happening. ‘Oh god! What are you doing? Byron! Please! I can explain everything!’

  Byron kept pulling at Chuck’s leg the way it wasn’t meant to go. There was a clunk inside as the knee actuator snapped. Then a tear as the skin at the back of Chuck’s leg gave way. Chuck certainly felt that: the pain was close to unbearable. Next came pops and tears as other parts broke. A final yank pulled the lower leg clean away, cotton trous and all.

  Either the damage in Chuck’s chest or the damage to his leg was causing things to short inside. He couldn’t feel that, but he sure as hell could feel the agony of the ripped skin and punches. He was writhing from those, and the shorting caused his writhes to turn into jolts. Byron stepped away, looking at Tasley with wild eyes and holding the piece of limb in his hands. A few wires still went all the way back from the torn-away limb to the rest of Chuck’s leg; but not for long. As Byron walked away he gave a final pull. They came free, trailing down from the piece of leg he was holding.

  ‘You had enough?’ Tasley asked with a flickering wicked grin on his lips and a fire in his eyes.

  ‘Yeah. That’ll do.’ Byron stood to compose himself, sniffing and wiping his f
ace. He could still hear Chuck writhing and jolting behind him, but he didn’t care to look.

  ‘We should power him down. He might get permanent damage otherwise.’

  Byron left it a moment, wondering whether to turn back and finish what he’d begun; perhaps let Chuck squirm a while more so that he understood what it felt like. But no. He didn’t want Chuck destroyed. ‘Yeah. We should.’

  Tasley found the button behind Chuck’s left ear and pressed. The writhing and jolting and stuttered cries for help ceased. Chuck’s remaining body went limp.

  --

  Jared was sitting in the bedroom he and Byron had claimed as theirs the night before. He didn’t know much about Harris, but in the absence of anyone else he was glad to have him there, sitting next to him on the bed. Harris reflected. However bad this was, it wasn’t so bad that Jared had decided to flee the farm. He’d automatically come to Byron. Those guys loved each other for real.

  Jared was still shaking, but had been able to fill in a few more details for Harris after about ten minutes had passed. From faint sounds elsewhere in the house Jared was aware on some level that Byron and Tasley must be back. There were voices and bumps like they were carrying something heavy. Commotion – other voices getting involved. Jared looked Harris in the eyes for the first real time and searched them with wild pain. ‘What will they do to Chuck?’

  ‘What… do you want them to do?’

  ‘I don’t want him destroyed. He’s just confused. He’s not a monster.’

  ‘You sure about that? Cause I’m not sure if I am.’

  ‘He needs a chance. Just like… you all do.’

  Harris rubbed Jared’s arm. ‘You’re kind. I can see why Byron’s got a thing for you. Do you ever do anything for yourself?!’

  Jared let out a tear-filled ironic laugh. ‘You’re not the first person to ask me that.’

  ‘You gonna be okay here? I think I’ll go check what’s going on.’

  ‘Yeah. I’ll be fine. I just… want to stay here and lie down.’

  Harris stood up and headed for the door. He looked back at Jared with concern, but Jared was already moving himself slowly to take up a fetal position on the bed, pulling the edges of the duvet over as cover. Harris shut the door quietly and headed for the lounge. A couple of guys were left in there.

  ‘Nobody’s to go into Byron’s room. You hear?’ There were nods. Next, he headed for the kitchen where Byron and Tasley had dropped Chuck’s broken body onto the table. A bit of leg had been discarded to the floor down by some cupboard units. Byron and Tasley, joined by Ned and a few of the others were now standing in a circle just looking at Chuck.

  ‘Looks like you boys had a party without me.’ Harris offered. ‘Is he dead?’

  ‘No’, said Tasley. ‘He just got a message. We powered him down so as not to fry things out entirely but… He was on his way.’

  ‘Well… that’s good. Jared doesn’t want him destroyed.’

  ‘How is he?’ Byron asked.

  ‘Wise and strong compared to us. But …he wants to be on his own for now. I wouldn’t go in.’

  Byron nodded, but was of course saddened. He’d moved in rage to protect his man, and now his man didn’t want him. Had he done the wrong thing? This was a mess. How could life get messy so quickly?

  ‘You uh… you boys have done enough. Go take a chill some place. Ned? You’re spending the rest of today with me. We’re patching up this broken Bro.’

  ‘Why? He tried to rape someone!’

  Harris was inspecting the hole in Chuck’s chest to see how bad it all was, but he looked up at Ned. ‘He did. But he gets to explain himself. If he can’t, we let him fry and you get his battery. Understood?’

  It took the rest of the day, the night, and part of the following morning for Harris and Ned to get Chuck fixed up and operational. Tools were not a problem, but they weren’t as good as the kits the Brobotics were used to having in their Construcsapli charging pods. Still – Susan had done her best. Repaired and reclothed in a somewhat inappropriate suit, Chuck now resembled a sleeping man who’d chosen a kitchen table as a bed after a drunken fight.

  Jared had wanted to see Byron by late evening, but briefly. Byron had slept on a couch. Now he was back in the bedroom and drawing back the curtains letting morning sunlight flood in. Jared put an arm to shield his eyes and looked over at the window and Byron’s shadow. Momentarily it became the shadow of Chuck in the barn doorway, and hives of disgust and fear dashed over his skin.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘Hey.’

  Byron sat on the end of the bed. ‘How you holding up?’

  ‘I’ll get up. Just… can you give me another hour? I’m just exhausted.’

  ‘Okay.’ Byron stood and headed for the door.

  ‘Can you close the curtains again?’

  Byron did so, feeling bad, then headed out.

  He took a seat in the lounge and read a magazine. Sure enough, after about one hour, Jared surfaced. Evan had crossed him in the hallway and silently, randomly, given him a beanie hat of his to wear as a comfort gift. Jared hovered in the lounge doorway fiddling with the beanie in his hands. ‘I want to see Chuck. Did you kill him?’

  ‘Do you think I would?’

  ‘I don’t know. Would you?’

  ‘I don’t know’, Byron admitted. ‘I just know that I didn’t.’

  ‘Is he here?’

  ‘He’s in the kitchen. Harris and Ned have been working on him through the night.’

  ‘You two must have done a good job.’

  ‘We were angry.’

  Jared wanted to say things; that he still loved Byron, or that he admired his valiant acts. But he wasn’t sure how to put it, or how important it was to share those things when other things were still on his mind. He turned and silently headed for the kitchen. Byron followed.

  Harris was sat back on a kitchen chair with Ned next to him. They were drinking unnecessary but comforting cups of milky tea. Could they have their simple life back now? The one where they were just machines working in construction and weren’t meant to have feelings or moral conundrums? The one where they didn’t rip each other apart or damage humans for goodness sake?

  Jared quietly entered. Harris raised an eyebrow with his cup to his lips. Placing the cup down slowly, he turned to him. ‘How you holding up?’

  ‘I’m fine.’ Jared walked over to Chuck. He’d clearly been messed around, but it sort of looked like a bar brawl, nothing more.

  ‘Byron tore off a leg.’

  ‘He did?!’ Jared shot Ned a look.

  ‘Yeah. And Tasley punched a hole in his chest. All kinds of things shorted out in there.’ Harris added.

  ‘Sheesh. Will he operate?’

  ‘He should do.’ Harris stood. ‘Are you sure you want that, so soon after?’

  Jared looked at Harris, impressed with his grip on emotional states. Susan had chosen Harris as elder for a reason. ‘If I don’t do it now it will only get harder to do; and then I might want him switched off permanent; at least until I have to go home.’

  ‘We could do that, you know. Or fry him completely. Those are options’, said Harris. Ned winced.

  ‘Yeah. The thing is, Harris… I understand why it happened. I just don’t think Chuck does. He’s not a monster. He’s just confused.’

  ‘Maybe. Or maybe he’s a monster. We don’t know for sure. None of us have lived our new lives long enough to know what we’re fully like, or capable of, in the big wide world.’

  Jared had a hand on Chuck’s chest. He looked Harris in the eyes. They were a beautiful gentle gray color. Harris was as tall as Byron, but thinner. His gray hair matched, and he had stubble like Byron and Tasley. He looked kind. Old. Not puppy fat rounded like Byron and his bro’s. ‘All the more reason to ask him some questions, wouldn’t you say? I sure as hell want to know.’

  --

  Harris assembled the entire crew. The kitchen was not really big enough for ten large men, but it would have to d
o; nobody was going to go to the bother of hefting Chuck’s dead weight to another part of the house – certainly not Harris or Ned who had been slaving over his wasted space all night. They all stood in a circle around Chuck, with Jared standing at his feet.

  When Jared signaled that he was ready, the room hushed and Harris lent over to press the power. Chuck twitched, jolted. Went still.

  ‘Is he still broken?’ Jared asked.

  ‘Just wait’, said Harris. Chuck stirred like a human waking from sleep. He lifted an arm to rub his face with a hand. His other hand moved over his chest. He felt for a hole. I wasn’t destroyed. He opened his eyes. The first thing he realized was that it must be the kitchen ceiling, and so he must be on the kitchen table. The second thing he realized was that there was a circle of eyes glaring at him all the way round. Startled, he sat up. It was then that he was greeted with Jared who was calm, but glaring.

  ‘Jared!’ Then to everyone: ‘um… hey!’ – an embarrassed smile shot across his face. Nobody replied. ‘I can explain.’ He moved to get off the table. Harris commanded:

  ‘Stay where you are.’

  ‘I’m angry.’ Jared.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Chuck.

  ‘Don’t speak unless I ask you a question. You’re here to listen.’

  Chuck nodded.

  ‘I’m angry. On one level, I think I understand. On another, I can’t help feeling rage. Tell me why Harris shouldn’t fry your circuits right here and now.’

  Chuck looked rather ridiculous sitting bolt upright facing his justice. There was no space for a performance. Every micro gesture was being watched, weighed, by eighteen observant eyes. Fair point.

  ‘Maybe he should.’

  ‘That it? Not good enough. I need an answer.’

  ‘Perhaps I don’t deserve to live.’ His words sounded honest. He looked as if he meant it.

  ‘Then maybe you don’t get to’, said Byron. Those words, observed Jared, weren’t honest – weren’t meant. Byron clearly didn’t have it in him to destroy a man entirely. It was an expression of anger; not anger itself. Good. One less potential monster.