Pink Slip Prophet

by Donnelly, George

  Ian shrugged in surrender. “You are clearly the superior bureaucrat.”

  “I take pride in being a good bureaucrat. I know that’s a bad word for you. But the bureaucracy is about serving people through directing them to what you know is good for them. And that means robots. I can’t do my job without them.”

  “Look, you knocked some stuff down, you gloated… Can you leave us alone now? Surely you have some other entrepreneur or inventor to nationalize. You’ve got all we have.” Ian turned and sat down at his desk. He tapped at his screen. “Look, you damaged my screen. I think you got your pound of flesh for today.”

  Jack turned to his father and removed an earbud. “I got it, Dad. The search-and-destroy module is done! Can you…” He trailed off after taking in the slack look on his father’s face. The boy looked back and saw Larry.

  Larry’s face brightened. “You’re planning a terrorist attack, aren’t you?” He put his hand in his pocket. “The police are on their way. I knew there was something going on here!” He walked towards the door, then turned heel and strode towards Ian. “I got you! Didn’t I?”

  Ian, resigned, stood up, walked over to Larry and decked him. Larry fell backwards into the boxes. Several columns of the plastic boxes swayed under his impact and collapsed on top of him.

  Policebots - they were nothing more than hardened Marias with tasers - swarmed into the room. “Halt, Ian Blake. Halt or we will fire,” they said.

  Ian ran to his desk, sat down and tried to get his screen to work. It flickered on and he started to type.

  An overweight, reclining policeman in a floating scooter pushed his way into the room. “Step away from the keyboard, sir. We know all about you and we have this building surrounded.”

  The police-Marias approached him and pulled him up out of the chair, Ian still grasping the keyboard.

  “Please don’t resist any further, sir,” said the reclining cop. “I know you don’t want your son to get hurt.”

  Jack got up from his desk and limped towards his father but a police-Maria blocked him and the boy fell backwards onto his butt.

  Ian placed his hands behind his back and stopped resisting.

  Chapter 11

  Ian gestured to his son with a quick nod in the direction of his computer. Jack limped back and sat down. He looked over at his father.

  Ian nodded to him slowly.

  “Are you sure?” Jack mouthed.

  Ian nodded more quickly now. The Policebots stood around him, their tasers aimed at different points on his body.

  “Did you know, Officer…?” started Ian.

  “LeGrange,” the cop said.

  “Officer LeGrange, did you know that these bots are just modified versions of my domestic helper robots, the Maria models?” Ian asked him. His knees, calves and thighs began to ache. He wasn’t used to kneeling, and certainly not on a hard floor.

  The cop ignored him and looked at Larry. “What are we doing here?”

  “It’s not yours anymore, remember?” He turned to the cop. “I want him arrested. He struck me. That should be enough to hold him until we can crack and analyze his recent activities.”

  Officer LeGrange rolled his eyes. “I don’t care about his alleged hitting you. You’re in his room! I heard him ask you to leave. Sounds justified to me. And I see no justification to search the man’s—”

  Larry pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and threw it at the cop. “I have an official federal warrant for this man’s arrest on terrorism charges, to include a seizure of all his accounts—”

  “I’m local. Get your fed friends to do this. I don’t need the extra paperwork,” Officer LeGrange said.

  “Dad,” Jack said. “I don’t think we should do this.”

  Ian looked at him skeptically. You should be able to expect a little more loyalty from your kids. He glared at Jack.

  “Read the warrant!” Larry screamed. Spittle flew from his mouth. His face was red. “You are temporarily federalized and under my command! Now arrest this man and seize everything here!”

  “Alright, geez, calm down. Bots, arrest this man,” Officer LeGrange said. “Take the boy into protective custody. Cordon off this room and take everything to the one-four for processing and federal handover. Execute. Stand by for further orders.”

  “Now, son,” Ian said.

  “Dad…” Jack said.

  Ian shrugged. “It’s now or never.”

  “What if somebody gets hurt?” Jack asked.

  Ian looked at his screen. It was still flickering. He twitched his head and the earbud beeped. “Voice command: Execute gamma-three-two-four.” The reply came back in his ear: “Program executed.”

  Ian stood up and faced the cop.

  “Secure the prisoner,” the cop said.

  The Policebots raised their hands.

  “Protect!” Ian yelled.

  The Policebots lowered their hands and pointed their tasers at Officer LeGrange and Larry.

  “What the hell!” Officer LeGrange said. “Secure the prisoner, Policebots!”

  Larry took a step back, his face registering shock.

  The cop reached at his side for his firearm and pulled it out. A Policebot jumped at him. The cop fired. The bullet struck the Policebot in the chest with a thick clang. It grabbed the cop’s pistol and, using both hands, bent it in half until the plastic cracked and the metal popped off onto the floor with a light tinkling sound.

  “Dad! I’m scared!” Jack yelled. He limped off his chair and hid behind his desk.

  “Standby mode,” Ian said. “Remove these handcuffs, Maria,” he said.

  It quickly complied and Ian rubbed his wrists as he headed over to Jack. He kneeled down, picked the boy up and hugged him. “It’s fine, don’t worry. This is nothing new.” Ian turned back to look at Larry and the cop.

  “Do you really think this is the right thing to do, Dad?” Jack asked.

  “We’ll be able to spend more time together,” Ian said without looking at him.

  “Nobody’s going to get hurt though, right?” Jack asked. He looked at the back of his hand and rubbed the burn scar.

  Ian grew concerned. “You’ve been hurt by the robots.” He felt a deep internal pain at the idea that his robots had hurt the boy. “You got burnt. One fell on top of you.”

  Jack nodded.

  “The Marias are programmed specifically to not hurt anyone,” Ian said.

  From outside the sound of explosions and marching feet reached them. Jack’s eyes got big. “Is that…?”

  Ian looked out the window. A group of Marias marched down the center of the street, five abreast. There were at least a dozen rows. At random intervals, individual Marias peeled off. They ripped surveillance cameras from streetlights, raided businesses and tore computers from parked cars and passersby.

  “What about the old people, Dad? And the babies? They need technology to stay alive.”

  “I programmed temporary exceptions for them,” Ian said. “But the rest of it goes. The robots and the gaming tech, the whole thing - it’s killing our very souls, son. There is no point in being alive if we are only bags of blubber, our minds dulled, our senses deadened. Then we’re not human anymore.”

  The frenzied clacks of automatic gunfire reached their ears. Ian and Jack looked outside. Blue-suited men with rifles were gunning down the Marias. A man in plainclothes ran towards them dragging an axe behind him.

  The cop spoke up. “They’re killing your robot army out there, chief.” He smirked. “And they’re hearing and seeing everything that takes place in this room.”

  ***

  Ian stared down Officer LeGrange. “They won’t come in here because this is a hostage situation for them, right?”

  LeGrange looked away.

  Ian laughed. “That’s what I—” His earbud rang. He recognized it as a phone call but the tone was wrong. He assumed it was due to the damage Larry caused his scr
een. He picked up the screen and dusted it off. He gave it the gesture to answer. The line opened but Ian said nothing.

  “Hello,” a cultured male voice said.

  Ian thought he recognized that voice but couldn’t place it. “Who is this?”

  “Is this Ian Blake?” the voice asked.

  “What do you want!” Ian asked. He started to sweat. His plan was far from foolproof. There were a lot of variables involved with two billion robots and nine billion people. It was inevitable that he hadn’t accounted for them all.

  “I’d like to talk to you about your magnificent invention. May I call you Ian?” he asked.

  Ian said nothing. He organized his keyboard and put his screen back on its stand. He had to be ready. They could regain access at any time.

  “Ian, this is the President, Ronald Ingram. We need to work this out.”

  “Wow, that was quick,” Ian said. He watched his ‘robot army’ march down the street. Getting them to coordinate and lineup like that hadn’t been easy and he was impressed with himself for getting it right. Its numbers were growing and SWAT couldn’t shoot them fast enough to make a dent. They just kept coming.

  “Ian, I won’t kid you. Your robots have changed the nature of our world. We depend on them and we depend on the technology your army is currently destroying. I’m prepared to use force to get your cooperation.”

  A red light glinted in Ian’s eye then moved down to his chest.

  “But,” the President continued, “I’d rather have your obvious brilliance and determination working for the planet, rather than, well, six feet under it.”

  Ian looked down at the dot.

  “Is there any way we can achieve that, Ian?” the President asked.

  Ian laughed nervously. “We’re definitely on the same page as far as me staying alive and working for the good of humanity,” Ian said. His body started to shake and he wanted to sit down. He jumped away from the window, found his chair and sat down in the corner.

  “We can still neutralize you at any moment, Ian. Your heat signature is very clear. Please don’t make any more sudden moves.”

  Ian looked around the room. Time slowed down. Everything got heavy.

  “I know all about you and Larry, the baby you saved—” the President started.

  “Larry took the credit for that and then fired me,” Ian said. “Can you believe that?”

  “Absolutely, Ian. This kind of deception is a daily occurrence in politics.”

  “Oh,” Ian said.

  “And I don’t destroy the world over it.”

  Ian nodded and frowned. “Okay, this is a little different though.”

  “I know about your family problems. Your wife lied to you. I know about your time spent in the sub-basement and your brilliant work on the Marias. “We’ve had our eye on you for quite some time now. Really impressive,” the President said.

  “Thank you, I sup— You’ve had your eye on me? So you engineered the theft of my work? Larry’s win in court? The pre-emptive denial of my appeal?”

  The President was silent.

  Ian fumed. “What do you want?”

  “First, we’re a bit worried about premature infant wards at the hospitals,” the President said.

  “I’ve excepted them. Hospitals, too,” Ian said. “It’s a general exception though so it’s not going to be perfect. About ninety-five percent.”

  “Can we get that up at all?” the President asked.

  “No. Can we get to it?”

  “Money.”

  “How much?” Ian asked.

  “I should ask you that,” the President said.

  “Hmm, no,” Ian said.

  “A university appointment with a generous expense account and lots of adulation from students, academics and society in general - the credit you deserve, Ian. You’re the hero today, you stopped this. And Larry is the evil man who initiated this chaos. Think of it! An international hero!”

  “No! You don’t understand me at all,” Ian said. “Go back and try again! You have sixty seconds!” Ian cut the call. It immediately rang back and he silenced it.

  ***

  Something black flew across the room from the cop to Larry. Ian turned his attention once more to his hostages. He focused on the cop, then on Larry.

  Larry was pointing a gun at him.

  “Where did you get that?” Ian asked.

  “Turn it off, stop it!” Larry yelled.

  “I would prefer not to,” Ian said. He looked at Jack. The boy huddled in the corner and shook. I hope it doesn’t traumatize him for too long. Poor kid. Maybe I overestimated what he can do.

  The phone rang again.

  “Answer it!” Larry yelled. His hands shook and his faced was contorted and sweaty.

  Ian looked up, pretending to think.

  Larry pointed the gun in Jack’s direction. “Now!

  This bastard has no limits. That’s the difference between me and him. Ian accepted the call. “Ian’s Handy-Dandy Apocalypse here,” he answered.

  “Ian, it’s Ronald Ingram again.”

  “Oh, right, you’re the president of something?” Ian asked with a smirk.

  Larry walked over and stood next to Jack. He pointed the gun at his head. “Take this seriously!”

  “Like you took me seriously, Larry? You treat me like shit over and over again for decades but right now I’m supposed to make decisions based on your feelings?”

  “Can I—” the President started.

  Larry jammed the gun closer to the boy’s head. “No, make it based on my bullets.”

  Ian looked at the cop. “You’re okay with this?”

  The cop shrugged.

  “Ian,” the President interjected, “as I was saying, can you please just stop this? Can you countermand the order? I’m told that soon we’re going to lose this connection - and then what? Then I won’t be able to help you, Ian. Then I can’t stop Larry from killing your son.”

  “Fine,” Ian said. “Fine. You win.”

  “Just like that?” the President asked.

  Larry’s face brightened.

  “Just like what? You have a gun on my son,” he whispered.

  ***

  “May I?” Ian asked and pointed towards his desk.

  Larry scowled at him.

  “Let him do it,” the cop said.

  “Why should I?” Larry asked. “What if he has some trick up his sleeve?”

  “Mr. Blake, do you have a trick up your sleeve?” Officer LeGrange asked him.

  Ian shrugged.

  Larry touched the gun to the back of Jack’s head. Jack screamed and huddled himself more deeply into a ball.

  “You’re an asshole, Larry. You always have been. You had better back off of my son right now,” Ian said.

  “Or what?” Larry asked in a tone reminiscent of a snotty little girl.

  Ian narrowed his eyes at him. “Ronald! Persuade the man!”

  Officer LeGrange spoke up. “The President says to let him do it. He says we got no other option. If he screws it up, you have permission to kill him, but not the boy. Got it, Kunkle?”

  Larry nodded.

  Ian sat down at his desk, arranged his keyboard and cracked his knuckles.

  “Get to it!” Larry screamed.

  “If you insist,” Ian said. He typed feverishly, then hit return. “It’s done.”

  The Policebots and Ian’s own Marias each sounded a long, simultaneous beep, then acrid, black smoke rose from their heads. Ian and Larry looked outside from opposite ends of the picture window. The column of robots stopped and a puff of smoke rose from each Maria.

  Ian turned to Larry, smiled and nodded. “There you go!” He suppressed a chuckle.

  “What does this mean?” Larry asked.

  “I burned out the circuits responsible for software update,” Ian said. He walked over, collected his son and walked back to his side of the room. He sat
back down on his desk chair and hugged the boy tight. Jack hugged him back.

  “What does that mean!” Larry yelled.

  “It means,” Ian said with an impatient roll of his head, “that their current programming is set. It’s permanent. No one can update the software on these robots again, at least not remotely.”

  “You screwed us, didn’t you?” Larry yelled. He raised the gun and fired a shot.

  Officer LeGrange drew another firearm. It was so quick that it confused Ian. He fired off several shots at Larry. Larry fell to the floor.

  Ian smiled at Officer LeGrange then his smile faded as a woozy feeling came over him. He looked down at Jack. Blood gushed from his lower back. Ian jammed his hand over the wound and applied pressure. Ian was bleeding, too. The bullet had pierced them both.

  “Did we do it, Dad? Did we save the world?” Jack whispered. “Dad,” he said more loudly and with irritation turning to panic, “my tummy hurts. Bad!” His eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed against Ian’s chest.

  “Jack? Jack!” Ian yelled. “No!”

  Chapter 12

  “Please do not venture beyond the community perimeter,” a Maria said over the loudspeaker.

  Ian stood up in the field and looked in the direction of the guard tower. His foot slid in the soft, tilled ground. He dug his foot in, set down his bag of seeds and walked around Stacy to get to the edge of the freshly-planted field.

  “Dad, I need a break,” Stacy said. “I’m exhausted and I’m thirsty.”

  Ian turned around and grinned. “If you need a break, just take it. This isn’t a prison. This is a community.” He turned back around and stomped up to the guard tower. “What’s going on here?”

  A man turned around and dropped a cloth bag. It was Larry. He looked at the ground.

  “Larry was attempting to take scrap metal out of the community,” said the Maria.

  Ian rolled his eyes. “You’ll never learn, will you? Still trying to steal other people’s hard work?”

  “I found it here and I need it, therefore it’s mine.” He looked up at Ian and his face turned red. “Now let me out of this prison!”

  The Maria sounded the Bach-inspired melody and everyone moved out of the field and back towards the living area. Ian turned to watch children skip while holding hands with their parents. Adults smiled and laughed. This. This is it, exactly what I had in mind.