by J. S. Morin
One-handed, she assisted the much stronger Gemini in hefting Charlie7’s body double over the side of the skyroamer. It slammed to the steel rooftop lot with a junkyard crash.
“I’ll be damned,” one of the robots commented. “She did it.”
“Could be faking,” said the other. “How can we be sure he’s not just playing possum?”
“Designations,” Gemini called out. “I won’t let Eve bumble in among anonymous robots.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here,” the first robot said. “Charlie25 went to some trouble to spring you from prison.”
“Never go before a disciplinary board without legal representation,” Gemini called back with a phony smile. “I brought a committee chairwoman to speak on my behalf. As for her agreeing to represent me, I’m bargaining my knowledge of who all of you are. So… no pseudonyms, stage names, or aliases here. I want to know who we’re dealing with, and I know the dramatis personae.”
The two robots looked to one another. The one on the left shrugged and spoke first.
“Marvin120.”
“Elizabeth17.”
“Oh? Elizabeth!” Gemini cooed. “That Version 67 suits you. It’s been ages.”
“Enough chatter,” Elizabeth17 said, striding forward. “We’ll take the chassis.”
Eve raised the barrel of the rifle. “No thanks. He may be heavy, but he’s our only leverage. We’ll drag him.”
Marvin120 didn’t approach but leaned to the side, eyes boring laser holes in the chassis they’d brought along. “I don’t think that’s him.”
Eve’s whole body tingled. She felt lightheaded. How could they… no, it was all too easy to explain. The fall from the skyroamer hadn’t been enough to make the chassis look lived in. Dragging it to the skyroamer in the first place had barely scuffed the ultra-durable surface of the Version 70.2. Eve had been counting on dragging it all the way to Charlie25 before anyone took that close a look.
Elizabeth17 leaned in but carefully kept her feet planted under the aim of Eve’s shaking gun barrel. “You know… I think you might be right. Explain yourselves. Why does—?”
Gemini’s coil pistol cut Elizabeth17’s question short. The inquisitive robot toppled over, already inert.
Eve gasped. “What did you do?”
“Shoot him! He’s going to call for backup!”
Marvin120 was already on the run as Gemini fired again. A slug caught him in the back but didn’t stop him. He was about to make it to one of the doors leading into the factory. Another slug whizzed from the coil gun, clipping a leg and sending him sprawling but didn’t keep him off his feet long.
Eve sighted down the barrel of the rifle made by Charlie7’s hand from technology he claimed to barely understand. The digital sight shook in Eve’s hands. Flicking a switch with her thumb, a soft hum emanated from the device, and an auto-stabilizing feature kicked in.
She squeezed the trigger.
A noise like radio telescope static accompanied a blast of purple light that cut the air as it rushed from the barrel. For a split second, Eve thought she had missed since there was no hint of impact.
Then Marvin120 fell to the ground, missing a fist-sized cylinder from his central torso. There was a matching hole in the factory door beyond.
“What the blazes was that?” Gemini asked, pausing at Elizabeth17’s downed chassis to put a carefully aimed slug through her skull.
Eve tugged on her helmet. “The antithesis of the first law of thermodynamics.”
They abandoned the Version 70.2 chassis along with their ruse. Gemini stopped on the way to the factory door to put a slug into Marvin120’s crystal. But the damage was done.
Charlie25 knew they were coming.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
“Da-da-dada-da-da-da-dah-dah-BOOM! Da-da-dada-da-da-da-dah-dah-BOOM!”
Rachel couldn’t recall why she was singing. She sang songs both with and without lyrics including ones whose lyrics hadn’t existed until her wandering mind slapped them together.
But it was important that she sing. If she stopped singing, she’d talk.
As her thoughts floated along adrift, she still remembered that she didn’t want to talk.
“You dosed her too high,” a distant voice echoed weirdly.
“I warned you,” another voice chimed in like birdsong. “These guidelines are Human Era. She’s biologically different than a pre-invasion woman her weight. Plus, her childhood amounted to psychological conditioning. I don’t think we’re going to find that balance between lucidity and cooperation.”
The voices left. Rachel kept singing.
Her mouth was dry.
Her throat grew sore.
Her voice turned raspy and unpleasant.
Floating thoughts eventually drifted back to Earth. Rachel’s mind settled snugly back into its cradle of bone. She blinked, and her eyes focused on a Kanto Upload login screen just centimeters in front of her face.
Rachel’s login ID was pre-entered. The system was prompting for a password. Before the password came unbidden to her mind, Rachel squeezed shut her eyes.
There was no clock on the login screen. She had no idea how long she’d been strapped to the upload rig in Charlie13’s office. They could have force-fed her while they had her drugged. It could have been hours, days, maybe weeks. She could hardly feel her body to tell what else they might have hooked her up to in order to keep her alive and attempt to make her compliant.
“Vitals are stabilizing,” that Nora voice called out.
Charlie25’s heavy footsteps approached, but he never came into Rachel’s limited view. “Good. I’m tired of this. Grab a scan. We’ll upload to a test matrix later. If you want the body, you’re welcome to try uploading.”
A dull jolt of adrenaline oozed into Rachel’s veins from overtaxed glands. “No. Please.”
Rachel wished she had more passion to put behind her plea, but she was so tired. Her voice barely worked. She remembered singing but couldn’t imagine resuming, given the fire all down her throat.
“Oh, decided to become cooperative?” Charlie25 asked. “About damn time. Log. In.”
A hand came into view and grabbed the screen, shaking it in front of Rachel’s face. Still dizzy from the lingering drugs, her head swam as her eyes tried to focus on the moving target.
She gasped. “Can’t. See straight.”
“Wake her up.”
NoraX—as Rachel now decided to call her—stepped over. “I don’t want to fill her half and half with psychoactive sedatives and neurostimulants. There needs to be room for blood in that bloodstream.”
“Grab a volunteer, then,” Charlie25 ordered. “Transfuse fresh blood into her. Nobody’s cloning humans with antigens; pick anyone.”
“AB-positive,” Rachel muttered with a grin.
“Oh, a comedienne?” Charlie25 asked snidely.
There was a metal-on-metal contact out of view. “Don’t you dare hit that body,” NoraX warned. “That’s me. I don’t want my first sensation as a human to be the pain of a broken jaw.”
“Not if she cooperates,” Charlie25 warned.
“Cooperates,” Rachel echoed. “I cooperates. You’d only feel hurt anyway. I’m numb and buzzy. When the buzzy stops, the hurt starts.”
“Good God, Charlie. What are we doing here?” NoraX asked. “Let’s just knock her out and not wake her until upload.”
“Quiet,” Charlie25 snapped. “Eve’s here.”
“Hah!” NoraX replied. “I owe Marvin120 my drone allocation for next month. I never thought she’d show up.”
“You won’t have to pay up,” Charlie25 said with iron in his voice. “Marvin120’s dead.”
NoraX gasped.
Rachel giggled.
“Can we please just sedate her?” NoraX asked.
“Eve’s here,” Rachel sang to no particular tune, heedless of her raw vocal chords. “Eve’s here. Probably Charlie7 too. Eve’s here. Eve’s here. Going to be bad news for you.”
“She didn’t buy the dummy video,” Charlie25 explained in a huff. “She tried to pass off a phony Charlie7 chassis. She’s even got Gemini with her.”
“You think she talked?”
“Gemini?” Charlie25 asked. “I can’t imagine Eve bringing her otherwise. What use is she aside from being a shabby Plato clone?”
“This is bad,” NoraX said. “This is very, very bad. We can’t be killing Eve at this stage. She’s too popular. We’ll split the committees. A lot of them respect her.”
Rachel sang the letters, “R-E-S-P-E-C-T” but broke down coughing before she could continue.
“Shut up!” Charlie25 snapped. “Wait. No. I need you to send your sister a message.”
“Glad to,” Rachel replied. She tried to wiggle her hands but had no sensation in her extremities. “Just let me up and I’ll get right on that.”
“Eve?” Charlie25 said, ignoring Rachel’s commentary and certainly not doing anything about unstrapping her from the upload rig. “I’m willing to make you a deal.”
The screen in front of Rachel’s face moved away, and Charlie25 leaned in close. “When I prompt you,” he whispered. “I want you to tell Eve that if she can log in and unlock the original Project Transhuman scans, you’re free to go.”
“Nora-whoever is going to be sad,” Rachel said. “She wants to be in my brain.”
The horror of that statement hovered just out of grasp beyond Rachel’s current faculties, and she was just lucid enough to sense it there. She actively fought against coherent thought to keep from breaking down. Already she found her eyes watering before NoraX’s irrigation system sucked the tears away.
“Nora91 can go upload herself to a chimp,” Charlie25 whispered coldly. “I don’t care if you live to a hundred or die in that rig. I. Want. That. Data.”
Rachel tried to nod. “I’ll tell Eve.”
“Good,” Charlie25 stated as if that were the final word.
“Eve finds the scans. Nora91 gets to be a chimp. I get to stop being buzzy.”
“Skip the middle part. Hold on… Yes, she’s a meter from me right now… Fine. Of course, she has a message for you.” Charlie25 leaned close. “Speak. She’ll hear you.”
Rachel drew a breath, scorching her raw throat on lukewarm air. Her chest strained against the strap holding her down. “Eve, it’s a trap! Don’t trust him! He’s going to upload—”
A slap across her face left Rachel blinking and disoriented.
“Blank her!” Charlie25 ordered. “I’m tired of games.”
“But—” Nora91 began.
“Do it! I’ve got bigger problems right now. We’ll get into the archives with one of the sisters.”
Charlie25 stormed out of his former counterpart’s office. The door shushed once to open and once to close. Near as Rachel could tell, that left her alone with Nora91.
“Please. I don’t want to die. Just… don’t… listen…”
A cold sensation ran up Rachel’s left arm. Her words slurred until she lost feeling in her mouth entirely. Her head swam. The last thing she heard was Nora91’s voice, echoing from across a vast canyon.
“Don’t worry. This won’t hurt.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Eve and Gemini stood in a corridor on the way to Charlie13’s office. The propaganda videos had clearly been shot there, and it was as good a place as any to begin looking. The factory hummed with menace since they had entered. It had to have been Eve’s imagination, but the lighting, the air, and the lack of sound from her footsteps on the omnipresent catwalks all felt wrong.
It all had to do with the helmet Charlie7 had given her, but it contributed to her unease nonetheless.
An alert popped up in her lenses.
INCOMING VOICE MESSAGE.
It was Charlie25. Silent within her energy-dampening helmet, Eve held up a hand to order a halt.
“Is Rachel still alive?” Eve said with ferocity the instant the link connected.
“Yes, she’s a meter from me right now,” came Charlie25’s measured reply.
Eve tried to keep her voice steady. “I want to speak with her. Put her on.”
“Fine. Of course,” Charlie25 answered with perfect nonchalance. “She has a message for you.”
Eve swallowed. She had to be prepared for anything. Likely they had tortured or brainwashed Rachel into delivering whatever message they wanted.
Gemini grabbed Eve by the arm to get her attention, but Eve jerked away. With the hand that wasn’t carrying her rifle, Eve held the sound-deadening helmet onto her head.
Rachel came onto the call sounding as if she’d taken up smoking cigars. “Eve, it’s a trap! Don’t trust him! He’s going to upload—”
The call went dead.
Eve tore off the helmet. “Charlie!” she shouted. When there was no answer, she whirled on Gemini. “They’re going to upload to her. They wanted her to lure me in, but she blurted their plans. They’re going to upload her.”
“We should hurry,” Gemini said, jogging down the hallway and taking the lead. “We can be there in fifteen minutes, perhaps.”
“She can be a robot in five.”
Eve’s mind tumbled in a kaleidoscope of partial plans.
She could call back and offer a new deal.
She could call back and make threats.
She could bluff.
She couldn’t trust that any of that would stop Charlie25 before complex electromagnetic forces tore Rachel’s brain apart and rewrote it with the synaptic patterns of some depraved robot.
Power.
Tapping into Kanto’s system with Charlie7’s master access, she located the power stations scattered around Kanto. One by one, she shut them down, plunging everything into darkness.
“What did you do?”
“Charlie7 gave me the master key,” Eve replied. “I shut down the factory. All of it.”
“This might be the first time since Kanto was built that it’s ever all stopped at once,” Gemini commented softly.
Tucking the helmet under one arm, Eve headed into the darkness.
“I can’t see where I’m going,” Gemini called out as Eve left her behind.
Eve navigated by an overlay from her lenses. She had access to the computers. Even with every reactor in the place on emergency shutdown, the batteries in the computers were still active.
It was tempting to leave Gemini behind. Her plan had called for Gemini to help drag Charlie7’s dummy chassis along. The backup had been bartering Gemini’s life for Rachel’s. Now, blind and armed with just a coil pistol, what use was Gemini?
Shuffling footsteps clanged behind her. Sweat-slicked hands slapped blindly onto safety railings.
Eve pressed forward. The footsteps receded.
“I can help you,” Gemini called out from the darkness.
Eve shut her eyes. It mattered little. The lenses were taking spatial data and projecting what her eyes would have seen with the lights on. Lids open or closed made no difference. But the act of shutting her eyes mirrored the act of shutting out Gemini’s pleas.
“I can’t defend myself. I’ll die if they find me.”
Eve squeezed her eyes shut tighter, feeling the tears trickle down her cheeks. Her feet stopped advancing.
Why couldn’t she do it?
Evelyn11 had done everything imaginable to her. She had tormented, conditioned, molded, trapped, “educated,” and ultimately tried to upload herself over Eve.
Eve turned. She popped clasps and opened the front of her armor. Inside, in a vest pocket, she found a tiny flashlight. Flicking it on, she swept the catwalks until the beam of light fell on Gemini.
The robot in human skin held up an arm to ward off the glare but fought upstream against it to find her way to Eve. “Thank you.”
Eve pressed the flashlight into Gemini’s hand. “Keep away from me with that.”
Gemini chuckled nervously. “I feel better as a target than I did alone in the darkness.”
A ro
bot afraid of the dark?
Or a robot afraid of her human frailty?
Eve didn’t care right now, and it annoyed her to no end that her curiosity insisted on asking.
Gemini took the lead. With the light and an intimate knowledge of the factory geography, it made her the logical choice. Eve followed, helmet donned and rifle at the ready, barrel aimed off to the side lest she accidentally shoot Gemini.
The light wavered, and the beam swung around wildly. In the silence of her helm, she couldn’t tell what Gemini had reacted to. Eve could only see by Gemini’s silhouette against the cone of illuminated factory behind her that Gemini had taken cover against a coolant pipe.
In an instant, Eve bought up the rifle and swept for targets.
She saw nothing.
A spark. A burst coolant line. A spray of mist that Eve was wary of crossing. Someone was firing at Gemini.
There!
Eve saw them. Two pairs of orange glows that indicated robotic hunters sent to intercept them. Fingers twitching inside her gloves, Eve turned up the gain on her lenses. The orange glows turned to hazy starbursts, but she could make out shapes of chassis below those eyes.
This was no time to parlay. There were no bargains to be had, no deals to cut. She would listen to neither threats nor empty promises.
Eve fired.
The sizzling purple bolts of unknown energy scattered into the factory as Eve laid down suppressing fire. Then, once the two robots had taken cover on the downhill side of a set of stairs, Eve blasted right through their cover.
With picture-in-picture replay, Eve measured the rifle’s rate of fire at just north of two shots per second. The light from the bursts was enough to create a slow stroboscopic effect.
The flashlight beam waved, aimed at the ceiling.
Eve looked up, sweeping the exposed reaches above them, expecting to find them swarming with enemy combatants. It took her a moment to realize that Gemini was signaling for her to cease fire.
Pulling her helmet up, Eve listened.
“They’re dead. Quit firing before you drop this whole section into the abyss.” Gemini shone the light on the staircase their two assailants had used for cover. It hung limp, the near end dangling over empty space. The lower stairs had collapsed and hung ready to fall at any moment.