The Robots of Gotham

by Todd McAulty

  “Yes, we’re friends.” If Sergei was being accused of aiding the American terrorist, admitting that to Perez probably wasn’t smart. But the hell with it. I’d risked my life more than once tonight already; no sense being timid now.

  “Ah.” Perez’s hand fell from my shoulder. “Yes, I remember now. Specialist Vulka wrote a letter praising your efforts on his behalf the morning of the attack.”

  “That’s right. He’s been very kind to me. I hope he’s not involved in anything serious.”

  Perez shrugged. “It is routine. Specialist Vulka is being questioned to eliminate him from certain inquiries. There is no reason for concern. I am certain all will be resolved satisfactorily.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  Perez smiled. He leaned closer and lowered his voice confidentially. “Internal security . . . they see threats everywhere, real and imagined. The day is wasted if they cannot uncover two dark plots before noon.”

  I forced a chuckle. Was the colonel really joking with me about Venezuelan internal security while Hayduk cleared the way to have Sergei tortured? Why wasn’t Perez doing something to stop him?

  Before we could cement our new conspiratorial friendship with more tasteless humor, we were interrupted by a commotion near the weather station. Perez turned to look, and I saw Hayduk in the middle of it all. He was leaning over a wide monitor a few feet from Sergei, shouting in Spanish. He sounded surprised and furious.

  “Please,” Perez said, suddenly too distracted to look at me, “remain here.” He took his leave, walking over to join Hayduk. As he did, I got a glimpse of what Hayduk had seen to get him so excited.

  Me, of course. Or more accurately, an American terrorist in combat armor exiting Hayduk’s office with a bag of stolen power cells. The timestamp was less than nine minutes ago.

  The technicians worked to bring up additional cameras on the floor. As they did, I took a few surreptitious steps to the left, moving into the shadows by a storage cabinet, where I could get a better view. Hayduk was snapping at the techs in Spanish. They fast-forwarded the display, deftly tracked the American’s movements, until he was confronted by Van de Velde and her corporal.

  I finally saw a reaction from Perez. He let out a cry that was almost triumphant, jabbing one of the screens savagely. It was an image that showed both me and Van de Velde, and his finger speared his sergeant.

  The two technicians looked up, surprised and curious. Perez switched smoothly to English.

  “I told you,” he said, his voice tightly controlled. “She is not a suspect.”

  “That is irrelevant now,” Hayduk said dismissively. “The American will be in custody in moments.”

  “I want her removed from the suspect list. Today.”

  One thing I appreciated about Hayduk—this wasn’t a man who bothered to hide his emotions. Irritation flashed across his face. “As you wish,” he said.

  Perez turned around. He snapped his fingers at someone sitting at a dark console, twenty feet away.

  “Yes, Colonel?” said the young woman.

  “Specialist Benitez. Please determine the locations of the following personnel. Capitán Damon Vreck. Contractor First Class Stacey Bova. Primer Teniente Lexi Newman. Sargento Mayor de Primera Alberto Castro.”

  I knew those names. They were on Hayduk’s list, the people he planned to interrogate on suspicion of being the American terrorist. Perez was accounting for their whereabouts, eliminating them as suspects.

  “Contact them personally,” said Perez. “Quickly, please.”

  “Yes, Colonel.”

  Again, Hayduk’s expression said he clearly didn’t appreciate this opportunity to remove suspects nearly as much as Perez. But something appeared on screen a moment later that instantly cheered him up.

  “What is that?” asked Perez.

  “That,” said Hayduk with satisfaction, “is a combat-capable machine intelligence. Perfect Circle.”

  Perez watched as Perfect Circle moved into the middle of the corridor. His bulk now dominated most of the images on the monitors.

  “You have a field combat asset in my headquarters?” said Perez. His face had become very red.

  “He responds only to very specific triggers,” said Hayduk calmly, his eyes fixed on the screen. “And one has just occurred.”

  “It is a war machine!” Perez shouted. “You cannot expose my staff to an active combat hunter!”

  In response, Hayduk moved forward and tapped the screen on the far left. It showed the two soldiers. One aimed a rifle at my head, and the other swung a crowbar.

  “Contact these men,” Hayduk told the techs. “They have the American in custody. I want him brought here.”

  On screen, Hayduk’s “very specific” combat hunter reached out and crushed the head of one of the soldiers.

  For a moment, you could have heard a pin drop anywhere in the room.

  Perez reacted first. He spun to a group of soldiers on his right, including the kid, and said less than ten words in Spanish. They left the room at a run. Then he turned to another communications tech.

  “Specialist Andres, contact the deck officer at Sturgeon Aerial Ops. We need a machine containment team here in the next fifteen minutes. Heavy weapons authorized. I want the entire team, do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Colonel.”

  Perez pointed to two young women at the Operations station. “Evacuate the fifth floor,” he told them. They picked up their phones and went to work.

  Hayduk had taken a moment to recover. But when Perez finally turned to him, he was ready.

  “There is no further danger,” he said smoothly. “Once the American is apprehended, Perfect Circle’s combat prerogative will expire. I will remove him from your operational envelope.”

  “No,” said Perez. “You will remove it immediately. Or I will have you court-martialed for felony murder.”

  Hayduk’s lips thinned, but he kept his voice even. “Colonel Perez, I do not serve at your pleasure. My mandate is to use any means necessary to find and stop the American terrorist.” He tapped the screen showing Perfect Circle with his knuckle. “These are the necessary means.”

  As Hayduk was tapping the screen, Van de Velde was opening fire on Perfect Circle. It charged toward her, and the American in the suit counter-charged. In seconds, they were in combat. And just as quickly, the American began to lose. Van de Velde stood firm, continuing to fire.

  “Your ‘necessary means’ is killing my men,” said Perez, with barely controlled rage.

  On the screen, Perfect Circle was swinging me around like a yo-yo. The robot effortlessly slammed me into the floor and then the wall. Watching it happen, my whole body ached all over again. I turned away briefly, unable to watch.

  Instead, I glanced around the room. The two dozen or so technicians and soldiers still at their posts had pretty much abandoned all pretense of working and were watching events unfold as avidly as I was. Many were Sergei’s coworkers. They were whispering in small groups, staring at Hayduk with open fear. Zircon Border had stepped into the room, his hulking form blocking most of the entrance.

  “Your soldiers should not interfere,” Hayduk said critically, still watching the screen.

  “My sergeant is protecting her men!” Perez exploded. “And if they are harmed, you will answer for it.”

  The soldier opened fire on Perfect Circle with his automatic rifle. The combat robot tried to pummel him with the American, but now at last the American was resisting, clinging to an exposed steel beam in the wall. Perfect Circle released him, then smashed its metal fist into the soldier, sending him through the wall.

  There was an audible gasp from the room.

  Perez had become very quiet. His back was to me now, and I couldn’t see his expression. But he looked like a coiled spring.

  On the screen, the combat robot turned to finish off the American. Van de Velde stood and blocked its path, firing relentlessly, heroically. Uselessly.

  The whole room watche
d as Noa Van de Velde bravely held her ground, protecting the American, until Perfect Circle crushed her, then tossed her aside.

  There were cries from the audience. Several people jumped to their feet. Someone shouted “Noa!”

  Perez spoke very quietly, but every person in the room heard him.

  “Master Sergeant Robles,” he said. “Place Colonel Hayduk under arrest.”

  A uniformed soldier stepped forward and saluted crisply. Two armed servicemen followed him to Hayduk’s side.

  “Colonel, please relinquish your sidearm,” said Sergeant Robles.

  There was a scuffle on the far side of the room. Two men and a woman in Venezuelan Military Intelligence uniforms pushed past several technicians.

  Hayduk’s men.

  One of them shoved a soldier who didn’t move quickly enough. The leader—a short, wiry captain—moved to Hayduk’s side, facing Robles defiantly. He placed his hands on his hips, his fingers brushing the top of his holstered revolver.

  “Colonel Perez,” said Hayduk, his tone calm. “I understand your reaction. But you are not thinking clearly.”

  “Señor Hayduk,” said Perez, facing him squarely from ten feet away. “Master Sergeant Robles has requested your sidearm.”

  Hayduk smiled. He unclipped his weapon from his belt, still holstered, and placed it on the table before him. “Sergeant Robles may have my sidearm, if he is so eager for it,” he said. Hayduk reached out with his left hand. He pressed his fingers against the imposing image of Perfect Circle on screen.

  “Do you see how useless your guns are, Colonel? This is the future. Not merely the future of warfare. But the entirety of our future.”

  Hayduk turned to the assembled crowd. He seemed to relish this moment. “No one in this room is such a fool that they cannot see where the San Cristobal Coalition has led us. Choose your loyalties carefully, my friends. Nations are relics. We are the victors in an uprising against history.”

  “My loyalties,” said Perez, “are to the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela.”

  “The Republic teeters on the precipice,” snapped Hayduk. “And you are a fool.”

  He turned to the display on his left. His robot was about to crush the American, who stood helplessly as the hunter bore down on him. Hayduk’s hand moved over the image of the robot, almost caressing it. “But let us discuss practicalities, Colonel. Perfect Circle obeys only me. When he kills the American, he will bring the body to me. Your guns cannot stop him. You are very welcome to try, of course, but I would not recommend it.”

  Master Sergeant Robles, who was watching the screen, licked his lips nervously. He looked to Colonel Perez.

  “That battle,” said Perez slowly, “ended eight minutes ago. Where is your combat hunter?”

  Hayduk’s confident smile faltered, but only marginally. “He will come.”

  On screen, the American and Van de Velde’s corporal were now fighting the hunter together. The American held two metal rods and faced the robot, as if taunting it.

  “Pay attention,” Hayduk said. He was speaking to all of us staring at the display, not just Perez. “You are watching the future unfold.”

  The American jumped. Perfect Circle grabbed, ready to crush him. The American’s jump took him into the robot’s arms, and then up, up, and finally crashing down. He drove the two metal rods deep into the cold brain of the combat hunter.

  Perfect Circle toppled.

  There was a moment of profound silence.

  “Master Sergeant Robles,” Perez said evenly. “Please escort Colonel Hayduk to the detention area.”

  Without hesitation, Hayduk’s captain smoothly drew his pistol. He leveled it at Sergeant Robles.

  The response was immediate. Both of the soldiers accompanying Robles drew their weapons. So did the two standing with Hayduk.

  “¡Deténgase!” shouted Perez.

  Everyone stood firm, guns held level. I heard the soldiers near the door scrambling closer, shouting to Colonel Perez for instructions.

  “This is unfortunate,” said Hayduk, when the shouting had calmed somewhat.

  “Your robot is destroyed,” said Perez. “You are under arrest. If your men do not lower their weapons, I will have them shot.”

  “That is hardly necessary,” Hayduk said, his voice smooth. “I do not dispute your authority. My men, however, were only doing their duty. If you allow them to leave unmolested, I would be happy to surrender.”

  Perez considered, then nodded. He signaled to Robles and his men to step back.

  Hayduk gave an accommodating smile. He nodded at his captain, and his men holstered their weapons.

  “Of course, you will allow my men to leave with their prisoner,” Hayduk said.

  Perez glanced at Sergei. In all the excitement, he’d almost been forgotten. The colonel shook his head. “Specialist Vulka will remain here until this matter is settled.”

  Hayduk frowned sympathetically. “Unfortunately, Colonel, Specialist Vulka has already been remanded to the custody of military intelligence. Regardless of our business here, he will need to be . . . questioned.”

  Hayduk let the last word hang in the air, a chilling threat.

  “That’s no longer necessary,” said Perez.

  “Perhaps you’re right,” said Hayduk noncommittally. “But that’s not for you or me to decide. He has been signed over to Sturgeon, and the inquisitor clerks there will extract the truth from him.”

  Perez looked over at Sergei. Sergei had sat with quiet dignity at his station for the last five minutes, watching events unfold. He returned the colonel’s gaze with his usual calm expression. A pained look crossed Perez’s face.

  “I have offered to surrender to you,” said Hayduk thoughtfully, as if the thought had just occurred to him. “But perhaps it would be more convenient if I remained on duty, to conduct the questioning personally. Here, in your presence, if you like. If Specialist Vulka proves to be uninvolved, I could sign him over to you immediately.”

  Perez did not respond. He waited patiently for the other shoe to drop.

  “But if the specialist is involved . . .” Hayduk tapped his chin, as if in thought. “I would of course insist on returning to the Sturgeon Building with the prisoner immediately, to pursue the matter.”

  Jesus. Letting Hayduk’s men leave with Sergei was the same as signing his death sentence. Hayduk had turned Sergei’s life into a bargaining chip.

  Perez said nothing. For a moment I was terrified he wouldn’t accept Hayduk’s offer. Finally, he gave a curt nod. Master Sergeant Robles stepped back, the sour look on his face signaling clear disappointment that he wouldn’t be putting cuffs on Hayduk, at least for now.

  “You may question him here,” Perez said.

  “Splendid,” said Hayduk. “May I have your permission to send my men upstairs to secure my office?”

  Shit, yes, I thought.Get those gun-happy assholes out of here. Perez seemed to concur. He gave his permission with a wave.

  As fascinating as all this military drama was, it wasn’t why I was here. I had a far more urgent errand. As stealthily as I could, I reached into my pocket and removed Hayduk’s GPU card.

  Lifting it had been the easy part. In order to complete this act of street theater, I had to make sure no one ever realized it had been taken. And that meant slipping it back into Hayduk’s pocket, silently and unseen.

  I had no idea how I was going to do that.

  I tried to recall exactly which pocket I’d stolen it from twenty minutes ago. I mentally re-created our collision in the hall outside the ballroom. The GPU had been . . . yes. In the breast pocket of his jacket.

  I watched Hayduk as he whispered instructions to his captain. This would be a lot easier once the captain and his men were gone. My first step would be to get close enough. Second would be to wait for an appropriate distraction—oh shit.

  For the first time since I’d entered the room, I noticed Hayduk wasn’t wearing his jacket.

  He had loosened his
collar, and dark stains were starting to grow around his underarms. He looked like he’d shucked his jacket a while ago. It could be anywhere.

  I cursed under my breath. My entire plan would collapse unless I could discreetly return the GPU, and soon.

  Maybe I could slip the card into his hip pocket, I reasoned. Possibly he treated it like I treated my car keys—I never knew what damn pocket they were in. Pants pockets would be harder than a jacket pocket—a lot harder—and that meant I would need a doozy of a distraction. It would have to be spectacular, and it would have to be soon.

  I rubbed the card in my palm nervously, keeping it concealed from view, and took a few steps closer, looking for an opportunity.

  Hayduk finished his whispered conversation. His captain nodded, and then left with his two subordinates. Hayduk leaned casually on the nearest table, returning his attention to the monitors.

  “Now that we have dispensed with these distractions,” he said, as if the last five minutes had been nothing more than an inconsequential debate, “let us return to the matter at hand. Where is the American?”

  The techs were on the stick. In seconds, they zoomed in on the American. He was leaving the scene of the battle, through the stairwell on the left.

  “How was he able to access your office so easily?” Perez wondered aloud.

  Obviously, this was a subject that irritated Hayduk as well. “Much of the high-end security is not yet in place,” he said, his voice tight.

  “Does your office not have a motion-activated camera?”

  “It does,” Hayduk admitted. “Not all security systems are operational, but what there is should have stopped him. Clearly, he had assistance.”

  Hayduk said something to one of the technicians, then walked slowly toward Sergei. He put his hands on the arms of Sergei’s chair, leaning forward until he and Sergei were separated by only inches. He asked him something in Spanish.

  Sergei looked blankly up at Perez. He hadn’t said a word since I’d entered the command center. Hayduk switched to English, without waiting for Perez to tell him Sergei’s Spanish was crap.

  Hayduk pointed at the American on the screen. “Who is this man?” he demanded, his eyes boring into Sergei’s. “You know him, of that I am sure.”