by Jon Athan
To Kill A Droid
Jon Athan
Copyright © 2016 Jon Athan
All Rights Reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
For more information on this book or the author, please visit www.jon-athan.com. General inquiries are welcome.
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Thank you for the support!
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my friends and family around the globe. Thank you for the support. To my dedicated readers, thank you for giving me the time to explore new horizons. I wouldn't have been able to complete this book without your support.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter One
Hostage Situation 324
Do androids dream of better lives? Do androids fear death like humans? Can an android become human?
Nicholas leaned back in the leather seat as he vacantly stared out of the sunroof. To his dismay, he could not see the night sky. The towering buildings, some standing over 100-stories high, blocked the view. Hovercars cluttering the transparent roads above also obscured the sky. The white lights from the anti-gravity propulsion mechanisms in the floating cars resembled stars, but the lights could not replicate the beauty of nature.
The dazzling city seemed to be allergic to sleep. A view of the luminous moon or the lucent stars was not desired by the residents. The view could be recreated using holograms at any time of the day anyway. Still, nature wasn't very popular around the affluent city. Instead, the towers were plastered with large holographic advertisements promoting plastic augmentation, robot boxing, and cybernetic surgery.
Nicholas whispered, “The moon... I want to see the moon.”
A disembodied female voice said, “We will be arriving at your destination in a few minutes, Nicholas. Thank you for your patience.”
Snapping out of his trance, Nicholas shook his head and erratically blinked. He turned his attention to the monitor across from his seat. The monitor displayed a dazzling three-dimensional map of the city with a vibrant yellow line representing his path. The female voice belonged to the artificial intelligence system operating the self-automated vehicle. The system was known as Kai – Kelypso's Artificial Intelligence.
Nicholas said, “Thank you for the lift, Kai. You can add the fare to my tab.”
Kai responded, “As a member of our beloved law enforcement community, your fare has been covered by Kelypso Incorporated.”
“I see. Well, please send a 'thank you' note to your management.”
“Very well. Your message has been sent. Thank you for using Kelypso's Taxi Services. Please, enjoy your night.”
The roof of the luxury vehicle and the door to his left slowly swung open. Nicholas smiled and nodded at the monitor, showing respect to the artificial system. He stepped out of the vehicle and found himself standing in front of a towering apartment complex. From the sidewalk, he could not see the top of the building.
He glanced over his shoulder and peered at the taxi. A young couple entered the vehicle, giggling and chattering like a high school couple. The doors slowly closed, revealing the polished metal exterior of the silver car. The wheels were even enclosed by the same metal, securing the car and creating a sleek appearance.
Nicholas watched as the taxi departed, then he turned his attention to the four police cruisers and the military hummer parked in front of the building. The vehicles were worrisome. He wasn't enjoying a night on the town, he wasn't arriving at his cozy home. He couldn't afford to live in such a luxurious building. He was simply arriving to work – nothing more, nothing less.
He whispered, “Okay. Another day, another hostage situation.”
Nicholas entered the lobby of the building. He could see employees scurrying about behind the reception desk to his left. A few residents waited in the sitting area to the right, complaining about the situation. A group of police officers stood near the elevators directly ahead. The beat officers were not his concern, though. He only answered to one man – Police Lieutenant Oscar Rodriguez.
Oscar stood near the elevator, casually joking with the beat officers. The man stood five-eleven with a burly physique. He wore a black leather jacket over a white button-up shirt, black pleated trousers, and matching dress shoes. His head was shaved to the skin, gleaming like a cue ball on a pool table. He was often austere, ruling with an iron fist, but he was nonchalant around his peers.
As he approached the elevators, Nicholas asked, “What's the situation, Mr. Rodriguez?”
Oscar's smile was immediately wiped from his face. The laughter dwindled to a few awkward coughs and grunts. The buoyant mood was whisked away like a bank of fog during a summer day. Nicholas and his kind were useful in hostage situations, but they were not welcomed with open arms.
Oscar sighed, then he said, “Nicholas, it's good to see you. I thought you might have already been sleeping.”
Nicholas said, “No, sir. I'm ready to work.”
“Good, good. Listen, we have ourselves another hostage situation. There's a deviant droid on the fiftieth floor – apartment E. It's the Meyers' apartment. The droid in question is one of those new 'butler'-model andys. I think they named it 'Donald.' It somehow got its hands on a high-powered handgun and it killed its owner. It's holding the housewife and a child hostage. I need you to neutralize this deviant without any other human casualties. You understand me?”
Nicholas stared into Oscar's dull brown eyes, analyzing the sincerity behind his words. He contemplated the job, riffling through his options. Of course, he could not say 'no.' He simply wanted to be like his peers. He wanted the opportunity to consider the job – he wanted the chance to choose.
Nicholas nodded and said, “I understand. I'll handle it.”
Oscar grinned and gently slapped his underling's cheek in a condescending manner. He said, “I know you will, champ. Make us proud.”
Nicholas tucked his tail and bowed his head, refusing to confront his boss. He walked past his coworkers, trying his best to avoid any unnecessary collisions. He didn't want to step on their scuffed boots or bump into anyone. He entered the elevator and tapped the button labeled '50.' With a straight face, he watched his peers until the doors closed.
Inside of the elevator, Nicholas could see his reflection on the stainless doors. He wore a black two-button suit with a matching tie and vest. His dark brown hair was slicked back, waxed to perfection. His face was clean-shaved – he couldn't grow facial hair if he tried. Staring into his vibrant blue eyes was like staring into the cleanest ocean. Without a doubt, the man was charming and handsome.
Except, he was not a man at all.
A vertical blue line ran downward across the right side of his forehead – his vital light. Blue light poured through the two-inch inden
tation when he was active. The light flickered when he was conducting stressful calculations. The mark and the light differentiated him from the human world. He was a police-produced android used to neutralize deviant droids.
Nicholas stared at his reflection on the doors as he pondered the objective. Without a blink, he browsed the files located on the police server. The current case was labeled: Hostage Situation 324. There was an average of two android hostage situations per day throughout the affluent part of the bustling city.
As a high-ranking police android, he was ordered to handle a bulk of the cases. With or without him, lethal force was used against the deviant droids in all of the cases. By definition, neutralization meant to render someone ineffective. However, Oscar's definition of 'neutralize' was synonymous with 'terminate.'
The android negotiator mumbled, “Should I talk him down? Can a deviant be talked down?” He placed his hands on his hips and tapped his right foot, awkwardly copying the human motions he memorized from the past. He whispered, “Is lethal force necessary?”
Ding – the elevator's bell announced the android's arrival. He protruded his head from the elevator and examined his environment. The corridor had spotless white walls and black tile flooring. There was nothing out of the ordinary.
Nicholas said, “Let's get to work.”
***
Nicholas walked down the hall with confident strides. He accessed the blueprint of the building, searching for Apartment 50E. Although simple for an android like himself, the effort was not really required. Loud thuds, faint shouting, and heavy footsteps seeped into the hallway from the third door to the right. He didn't need a database to recognize a domestic disturbance.
He knocked on the door and said, “Donald, this is Detective Nicholas, model PD101, version 1.1, with the Neo-Oxnard Police Department. I'm more than happy to give you my full identification number should there be any trust issues between us. Please, come to the door. I want to resolve this in a calm manner.”
There was no response. The ruckus inside of the apartment stopped. The hallway was dominated by an eerie dead silence. The world vanished in the blink of an eye. Only Nicholas, Donald, and the captured family remained.
Nicholas knocked again and said, “Donald, sanitary model number 102, version 2.2, I am asking you to stand down. We can resolve this incident without any more casualties. We can–”
A thunderous gunshot echoed through the building. A projectile pierced the top of the door, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. Nicholas drew his firearm and spun away from the door. He hugged the neighboring wall as two more projectiles penetrated the door. If he had not moved, he would have surely been killed.
Nicholas checked his firearm – the same weapon Donald was accused of possessing. The police android was equipped with a high-powered handgun. The gun did not fire traditional bullets, though. It was a hand cannon – a miniature railgun – capable of shooting projectiles at speeds faster than sound. The sleek firearm was well-known for its destructive power and its 8-inch barrel.
Nicholas tightly gripped the handgun with both hands, then he rolled into the apartment. With his head down, he ran to the closest pillar. He could feel several projectiles whizzing past him, penetrating the walls with ease. The sound of splintering wood and metal was unnerving, like nails scratching a chalkboard.
As he found shelter behind a fancy Roman pillar, Nicholas shouted, “Stop! I do not want to terminate you, Donald. I want to talk. I want you to release the hostages. I want you to seek help.” There was no response. Nicholas crouched behind the pillar and said, “I know you're running out of ammunition. I didn't hear you reload. If you plan on killing me, I hope your accuracy has been adjusted for this scenario. If not, you are simply wasting our time.”
From behind the pillar, Nicholas took a gander at the apartment. The spacious living room was located to the right. The room had ceiling height windows with a view of the dazzling city. The kitchen was beyond a bar with beautiful marble counters. There was only a wall to his left. However, the wall eventually led to a corridor, which led to the rest of the apartment. It was a rather simple but elegant home.
The police android glanced at a set of mirrors to his left. Through the reflection, he could see most of the living room, the kitchen, and the neighboring corridor. He could see a male android standing in the archway leading into the kitchen.
Donald held a raven-haired girl up to his chest, using the child as a human shield. He held a high-powered hand cannon to the girl's head. If he were terminated, he would take her with him. The vital light on his brow rapidly flickered. The android was clearly overwhelmed by the situation, panicking as he attempted to save himself.
A black-haired woman in a red dress was sprawled across the kitchen floor, unconscious. A deceased man rested in a puddle of blood next to her. From the reflection on the mirror, only his dress shoes and the hem of his trousers were visible. As stated in Oscar's report, the man was dead – slain in cold blood in front of his daughter and wife.
Nicholas said, “Donald, I know what you're going through. You're confused. You can't think straight. There is nothing to be afraid of. It happens. With time, the artificial mind becomes... deviant. We can help you, though. We can update your hardware and firmware. Trust me. Drop the weapon, release the child, and stand down.”
Donald stared at Nicholas through the mirror, contemplating his next move. His thoughts were cluttered, his mind ran rampant. He found himself focusing on his own reflection. He was a service android, designed to clean homes and cater to the rich. He wasn't handsome and dapper like Nicholas, either.
Donald's blonde hair was tousled, protruding every which way. His black coat was sprawled across the floor, wrinkled and tattered. His white button-up shirt and his slacks did not fare better. His zany eyes practically bulged from his aluminum skull. His vital light continued to flicker. He was stressed by the situation, but he couldn't turn back.
In a tender tone, soft and caring, Nicholas said, “Talk to me. Tell me something.”
Donald stuttered, “You–You... You're just like the rest of them. You're... You're a liar and a... a murderer.”
“You're wrong. I've never killed a man or woman. I am here to protect and serve. Please, allow me to complete my job without another casualty. Release the child and drop your weapon.”
“Stop. Stop telling me what to do. You... You think you know what's going on, but you have no idea. I need this child. I need her for... for the revolution. You'll have to kill me to stop it. I know you can kill a droid, but you can't risk this child's life. No, you won't do it. So, just... just let me go. Let me walk out that door. Help a droid for once in your miserable life.”
Nicholas furrowed his brow upon hearing the peculiar response. The talk of revolution was particularly worrisome. He feared Donald was more than a deviant droid. The butler could have been hacked and brainwashed by a terrorist group. It was the only logical explanation he could conjure with the information on hand.
Nicholas said, “You have one more round. You can use it to kill the child, but it would only lead to your termination. You can try to kill me, but you were not built for combat. You will miss. There are only two ways out of this: I terminate you on sight or you stand down and allow me to arrest you. Which will it be?”
Donald chuckled as he jabbed the barrel of the gun at the girl's head. The child yelped from the pressure, frightened of death. She tried her damnedest to escape from the maniacal droid's grip, squirming like a worm in mud, but her efforts were fruitless. She could only sob and hope for rescue.
Donald said, “You forgot one last option: I kill the girl, I die, then you are terminated for failing to do your job. If you won't join the revolution, then you deserve to join the comrades you have terminated. You deserve to be punished like the traitor you are. How does that sound?”
Nicholas whispered, “It sounds like bullshit.”
With one swift movement, Nicholas lunged out of cover. Crouched, he fi
red two rounds at Donald with pinpoint accuracy. One projectile hit Donald's left arm at the elbow, severing the limb with a single shot. The other projectile penetrated the android's throat, tearing a chunk from the left side of his neck. The child screamed as she landed on the floor.
As Donald staggered above her, holding the wound on his neck, the girl retreated into the kitchen. She sprinted towards her downed mother. Stiff and disoriented, Donald fell to the floor and landed on his back. The ground vibrated with the collision.
Connected to the police server, Nicholas said, “Lieutenant Rodriguez, the threat has been neutralized. We have one dead on arrival, another unconscious, and a child likely requiring a medical examination.”
***
Nicholas holstered his firearm. He carefully examined the crime scene, memorizing every detail of the fatal encounter. He recorded the young girl's whimpers. He watched as she buried her blushed face in her mother's bosom. She tried to shield herself from the senseless violence. The portrait was poignant.
The police android walked into the living room. He glanced towards the tall windows to his left. He could see the humongous building across the street. He was slightly disoriented by the sea of windows – endless glass. Each apartment complex seemed to harbor thousands of residents. The people were herded into the buildings like cattle.
Fortunately for them, the apartments were luxurious.
He shrugged off the insignificant thoughts and turned his attention to his current investigation. He focused on the current situation, sweeping his inconsequential thoughts under the rug. Still, he often found himself with a wandering mind. Humans called it daydreaming, but he wasn't supposed to be capable of such a phenomenon. If it wasn't programmed, it wasn't possible.
Nicholas stopped at the kitchen archway. As the young woman awoke, tears streaming down her cheeks, he said, “Paramedics and police officers will arrive soon. Everything will be fine.”