Robot Geneticists (Book 4): Rebel Robots

by J. S. Morin

  Toby521 already knew. It wasn’t as if she were spreading the news of six heretofore unknown personalities floating around Kanto’s computers. He was someone Rachel could talk to.

  “But no one else knows.”

  “Why? Have they all got amnesia?” Toby521 covered his mouth with one hand. “Wait… that’s why I’ve been brought back, isn’t it? I’m the only sane human mind in a world of amnesic robots? Maybe I’ve been chosen…”

  “You were chosen because I wanted to try a Charlie mix, and Charlie13 wouldn’t let me add another majority Charlie to the world. Tobies are usually exceptionally stable and reliable, so adding a little Charlie was low risk.”

  Toby521 squirmed in his Cloth-o-Matic fresh clothes. “Weird, thinking my boss is looking out my own eyes.”

  “He isn’t. You’re him. He’s you. It’s all mixed, spliced, and integrated. You probably remember bits of his past, but as a majority Toby, it’ll take you a while to find where to look for them. But forget that for now. Who were these six other scientists?”

  The answers lay in the Kanto database. Upload a clean original and she could ask them herself. But if digging back into that hidden archive had been forbidden, using one of those personalities in an unauthorized upload would result in Rachel needing to find a new continent to live on.

  Toby521 sighed. “I knew all of them. They were colleagues of Dr. Truman. We all worked in the same building together for years. Let’s see, first there was—”

  A grating alarm from Rachel’s tablet startled both her and Toby521 at once. Digging in her pocket, Rachel pulled out the miniature computer terminal to find out what the fuss was all about.

  SECURITY ALERT.

  KANTO QUARANTINE PROTOCOL IN EFFECT.

  The system messages were followed by a personal missive from Charlie13.

  FIND SOMEPLACE TO HIDE. DON’T COME OUT UNTIL YOU HEAR FROM ME. CODE PERSEPHONE.

  Rachel rolled her eyes. More melodrama and safety training.

  “Yes, sir,” Toby521 said aloud, offering a military salute to a random wall. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  Rachel sighed and headed for her security bunker. It was an environmentally sealed, radiation-shielded, self-sustaining habitat beneath her quarters that could keep a single human occupant alive and safe for months. It was her refuge in case of planetary catastrophe, malfunctioning drones, or someone wanting to make sure she was adequately scared for her life to obey safety regulations.

  Toby521 grabbed her by the arm. His grip wasn’t painful, but he held Rachel firmly enough that she wasn’t getting loose. “Not that way.”

  “But—”

  “Your safety protocols are invalid,” Toby521 stated without a hint of compromise. “Kanto is under attack. The invaders will know to look for you there.”

  Rachel stumbled along as Toby521 towed her toward a disused wing of the factory, where production on the Version 46.12 chassis had been shut down months ago. “Who’s invading? What’s going on? Why are you dragging me this way?”

  Toby521 paused, allowing Rachel to catch both her breath and her balance. But rather than release her, he shifted Rachel onto his back, piggyback style, and resumed his trek with a swifter pace.

  “I don’t know what’s going on any better than you,” Toby521 said. “But Charlie13 ordered me to protect you at all costs. And that’s what I’m going to do.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kanto was fast approaching. Charlie7 considered slowing down, but explaining away a little daredevil flying was a small price to pay should his suspicions prove incorrect. Correcting for local wind conditions and atmospheric pressure, he had left himself a 0.1 percent margin of error for decelerating from Mach 4.1 in time to land.

  Then Charlie7 spotted it.

  The shape of a mining ship was unmistakable, especially to a robot who had built the first of them himself. While he didn’t keep up with the logistical schedule for the factory, Charlie7 knew how little ore Kanto accepted as direct deliveries. The timing of such a visitor from beyond Earth was too large a coincidence to overlook.

  If there was room to gather any more thrust from his skyroamer, Charlie7 would have taken it. As it was, the vessel was already shaking dangerously, threatening to tear itself to pieces.

  A transmission came in from Charlie13. “They’re attacking Kanto. I’ll do what I can, but there’s—”

  The transmission cut off. A wide-spectrum jamming blanketed the area. Charlie7 tried a few ancillary channels, but nothing was getting through.

  Rachel was inside. She had discovered a truth that was best left buried a thousand years in the past. There was no doubt of that now.

  “I’m sorry,” Charlie7 said softly. There were more lives at stake here than just Rachel’s. She was Charlie13’s responsibility, and Charlie7 would just have to trust that he was up to the task.

  Before he could do anything else, Charlie7 needed to get out of range of that jamming.

  He cut the thrust, the skyroamer shuddered, and as soon as the laws of aerodynamics allowed, banked in a hard 180-degree turn.

  Charging in against unknown odds and an unknown adversary was a Plato move. It was designed to fail, albeit heroically. Charlie7 didn’t care about heroism. He cared about winning.

  Charlie7 had always placed winning above all else.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Charlie25 toured sections of Kanto that had never been part of his domain. Warehouses of new model chassis were split between mixing and upload, so Charlie13’s stores of modern units had a familiar feel with just enough out of place to remind him it wasn’t home.

  His assault team led the way before him, an integrated force of robotic and post-robotic minds. Leveling a coil rifle of his own with one hand, Charlie25 put a ferromagnetic slug through the cranium of a Version 70.3 chassis as he passed by.

  Heads turned, but not one of his charges said a word at the casual destruction of a robot in waiting.

  Their true target lay ahead. Charlie25’s main mission was to predict, circumvent, and counter any roadblocks his former associate placed in their path.

  Kanto could be a dangerous place. It had the power build robots from raw metal and crystal. But hidden within that beneficent power were the forces and materials necessary to end them.

  The path was strangely quiet. All the way to Charlie13’s office complex, Charlie25 kept wondering when the trap would spring. He could find nothing. Surely, given the lengths to which he’d gone in securing the upload sector of the great factory, Charlie13 must have some defensive network buried beneath the veneer of enlightenment and creation.

  For every hospital maternity ward, there was also a morgue.

  Charlie13 was no angel.

  Charlie7 had built Kanto. He must have rigged it with booby traps and defensive protocols. Charlie13 would have taken over those as well.

  So why was there nothing? Nothing at all barred the way right up to Charlie13’s personal office.

  Jason220 reached for the door alarm.

  “Stop!” Charlie25 commanded. “This is my mission. I forbid you to steal this moment from me.”

  Pushing his way through his own troops, Charlie25 stood before the door. Why the sudden trepidation? If he had been the one to leave a clear trail, this would have been the point Charlie25 would have rigged an explosive charge to level half the building.

  Steeling himself, Charlie25 pushed the door chime.

  The door slid open. “I’m busy,” Charlie13 called out, not even looking up from his desk. “Come back another time.”

  Charlie25 strode inside. “This isn’t a social call. Aren’t you even curious to see that I’m alive?”

  “No.”

  Damn him. Damn that smug, aloof attitude and that entitled assumption that Charlie25 wouldn’t just put a slug through the mixer’s cranium.

  Charlie25 raised his weapon and aimed it at the center of the crystal matrix buried inside Charlie13’s head. He knew the exact spot for a shot to not just damage
but shatter the crystal, rendering data retrieval utterly impossible.

  “Care to reconsider having a conversation?” Charlie25 asked. “Let’s start with this one: where is Rachel Eighteen?”

  At last, Charlie13 looked up. “I have intentionally removed myself from that knowledge. Care to explain why I’m getting visitors from ghosts and… I’m going to guess re-uploaded former robots?” The mixer leaned to peer past Charlie25 into the hallway outside his office.

  “This is the dawn of a new age.”

  “That happens every morning,” Charlie13 countered in deadpan seriousness.

  “We’re going back!” Charlie25 thundered. “Anyone who wants to. Once we expose Charlie7 as the charlatan and con artist he really is, his whole regime will crumble. When robotkind realizes that the only reason they can’t go back to being human is that they’ve been lied to their entire lives, the only thing stopping everyone from going back to the world of sex, booze, and honest-to-God sensory input will be individual desire.”

  “Sir,” Marvin44 interrupted. He had one eye covered by a transparent screen alive with data flowing past. “Telemetry on Charlie7. He’s on a heading directly for Kanto. ETA under four minutes.”

  Charlie25 glanced over at Charlie13. The two ancient robots’ eyes met.

  “Jam all communications in and out of Kanto!” Charlie25 shouted.

  “All?” Joshua192 echoed. “But what if—”

  “Even that frequency!”

  If Dale2 needed to get in touch, he could bloody well do it once the Charlie7 situation was under control. The last—the absolute last—thing Charlie25 needed was Charlie7 interfering in this operation.

  “Charlie7’s skyroamer is veering off,” Marvin44 reported.

  Standing behind the office’s lone desk, Charlie13 stood impassive.

  Charlie25 sneered at his old counterpart. “I suppose I ought to thank you. Warned him away, did you? There’s no point denying it. The one robot on this planet who might actually pose a threat if he got here in time just decided to give up and fly home. Even if he has some grand plan for reinforcements, this is a time-sensitive matter. He won’t return in time.”

  Charlie13 stood motionless. If his eyes weren’t lit, he could have passed for an inert unit.

  “Say something, damn you!” Charlie25 snapped. “What’s so funny? What game are you playing at? You think you can bait me into making a mistake?”

  Charlie13 smiled for a fleeting moment, then allowed his features to relax into that same impassive stare.

  Charlie25 whirled on his forces. “You three, get airborne and track Charlie7. Whatever he’s up to, stop him. Use any means necessary.”

  The three robots gave their assent and sprinted for the skyroamer pads. All his human masterpieces remained behind. “The rest of you, spread out. Search the factory. Bring me Rachel Eighteen, unharmed. Kill anyone who tries to stop you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Knowing that specimen 0042 was artificially afflicted with Callanse Syndrome made Eve’s decision much easier. There was no way she would allow Elizabeth55 to further harm the fetus, nor would Eve allow it to be destroyed as a convenient cover-up that would only serve the despicable geneticist’s agenda.

  However, Eve had a more immediate problem than a birth that was months away. She had to escape Madagascar.

  “So? What’s the verdict?” Elizabeth55 prompted. “If you need any additional equipment or records…”

  “Yes, actually,” Eve replied, hoping she hadn’t sounded too eager. “I’d like to perform an independent genetic screening. Not that I don’t appreciate your safeguards, but if I’m going to make a determination on my own authority, I ought to independently verify the condition.”

  “We’re running screenings on two other samples right now,” Elizabeth55 said.

  “They can wait,” Eve replied, trying to remember who was in charge here. Elizabeth55 was a robot in a Version 60.6 chassis. Eve was forty-five kilos of muscle tissue, bone, and fibrous nerves that any robot could shred like pulled pork. But so long as both continued to pretend this was a civil discussion, Eve was the one in control. “You clear the other samples. I’ll prep specimen 0042 for examination.”

  “Very well,” Elizabeth55 replied, voice laden with resignation.

  How easy was it for robots to fake their emotions? It varied, and Eve hadn’t known an Elizabeth well enough to make a judgment call in any broad sense. Charlie7 could fake as well as a movie secret agent. Toby22 was a bumbling open book. She had to presume that Elizabeth55’s grudging compliance was a ruse.

  Whoever wanted Eve here must be overjoyed at her voluntarily extended stay.

  As soon as the door to the adjoining lab closed, Eve got to work.

  There was nothing to be done about poor specimen 0042 today. Right now, Eve had to save herself. Paranoia was a trait of Charlie7’s that had rubbed off on her, and she would rather feel silly for overreacting than end up trapped by a conspiracy many believed to have died out.

  Immediately, Eve tapped into the cloning facility’s computers with super user access. No human production facility was allowed to keep her out of any of their systems. Whether this particular location had additional, hidden layers of computing, Eve still had a direct line to the security feeds, door locks, and power subsystems.

  Cameras… on simulation showing Eve continuing to work.

  Doors… programmed to verbal override on Eve’s voice command.

  Power… rerouted, with safety overrides disabled.

  No robot existed who hadn’t watched every movie ever made—well, anyone built within the last few decades, at least. Certainly Elizabeth55 had seen enough looping video spy movies not to fall for that trick. But Eve created a program that would believably show her puttering away while Elizabeth55 was gone.

  The path back to her skyroamer was clear. Any door between her present location and the plaza outside would obey her and no one else.

  As for the power…

  Eve hoped she wouldn’t have to make use of that contingency.

  The door at the end of the production floor opened, causing Eve to flinch. She rubbed her eyes as if weary from staring, too intent on her work to have been prepared for Elizabeth55’s return.

  “Everything is ready.”

  Eve nodded and took a deep breath. Time to lay her cards on the table and find out what she’d won. “That may not be necessary after all.”

  Elizabeth55’s confident stride faltered halfway to Eve. She continued on cautiously, closing the distance like a jungle cat in a white lab coat. “Why is that? I’ve just shut down our morning’s work on your say-so. I’d like an explanation.”

  Eve stood tall, despite the robot being a full head taller. “Yesterday’s test results came back healthy. The replication of mutated genes would not have propagated this quickly.”

  “Let me have a look at that,” Elizabeth55 said tersely. She started toward the gestation chamber, but at the first step, Eve retreated an equal distance. The geneticist halted. “What’s the matter with you?”

  “This was done intentionally,” Eve said, trying to keep a quaver from her voice. “I’d like an explanation.”

  She held her hands clasped behind her back. Fingers twitched commands into her implanted computer. Quick messages fired off to Plato and Charlie7.

  Neither transmitted.

  While Eve had control of the lab’s computers, she wasn’t the only one with root access. Someone was jamming signals.

  As Eve backed away, she stalled for time. If the signal jamming was linked to the lab’s systems, she should be able to shut it down. “I can’t go missing. People know I’m here.”

  Elizabeth moved forward cautiously, hand extended as if Eve were a skittish farm animal to be calmed with slow movements and a soft voice. “No one is going to harm you. There is change on the wind. You just need to stay put until the dust settles. Everything will become clear.”

  Eve swallowed, continuing to retreat in th
e direction of the exit. She dodged around gestation tanks in what she hoped appeared to be a haphazard fashion. “No thank you. I’ll be bringing my findings to the full Human Welfare Committee. Until such time as a committee decision is rendered, all research here—”

  “You’re not leaving.”

  Eve ducked behind one of the gestation tanks, only sparing a quick glance to confirm it was vacant. Locking gazes with Elizabeth55, Eve popped open a control panel as quietly as possible. Thankfully, it glided open for convenient maintenance.

  “I think I am.”

  Fingers that were busily unhooking wiring connections took a quick detour to twitch commands to cut power to unit 0105.

  Elizabeth55 circled around the tank. “What are you doing in there? Backing up data? Your shabby little imitation computer will be wiped. The oversight in our testing data will be corrected. If you’re lucky, we won’t have to surgically remove your memories of this encounter.”

  “What’s this all about?” Eve demanded. As Elizabeth55 started around one side of the tank, Eve dodged the other way, prompting a reversal from the robot.

  It was a temporary standoff. So long as Eve was occupied and under the blanket of jamming she hadn’t been able to shut down in time, Elizabeth55 could play safe. Once Eve tried to run, a footrace against a Version 60.6 chassis was a losing proposition.

  “I’m not fool enough to tell you,” Elizabeth55 countered, feinting one way and starting the other around gestation tank 0105. “You’ll find out along with the rest of the mindless sheep.”

  Eve connected power to the cabinet’s steel housing. She left a thick return cable sticking out with an exposed end bobbing at knee height. There was current aplenty, lurking, waiting for the command Eve had queued and ready.