“No time for arguing,” Shortcut said, driving into the sunshine. He pressed a button on the dashboard and the van grew propellers. Then he gripped the leather steering wheel and stomped on the accelerator, grinning as they took off into the sky.
Chapter 11
The gang members carried X onto the oil rig platform. His arms and legs were bound. The smell of oil and fire hung thick in the air like a blanket, but as X went further into the facility, he realized that it wasn’t being used for oil anymore.
They passed through a machine room where tattooed engineers picked dead androids apart and cut them with buzz saws. Android assistants moved among fireworks of sparks and loaded the freshly cut parts on a conveyor belt that carried them to a mechanical assembly line, where metal hands sanitized them, filed off serial numbers and applied a fresh coat of paint. Then the belt moved the parts deeper into a part of the factory that X couldn’t see. He heard crunching and booming sounds that shook the platform, and wondered what they were doing.
He passed an android made from recycled parts; he looked cheap and patched together. One eye was red and the other was purple, and metal and circuitry shone through the skin of his face. He scowled at X.
Inferior android. Cheap architecture. Recycle grade. Doesn’t present a threat, even when I’m tied up.
The only thing androids like that one knew how to do was fight. But no android ever liked to meet a better model than him or herself; it was a feeling not unlike a middle class individual meeting someone in the upper class.
X ignored the android and kept his gaze ahead, even as the rest of the androids in the facility stared at him.
The gang members escorted him up a long staircase into a command center. Computer screens filled the wall and blinked with multi-colored graphs and grids.
Jeanette Crenshaw sat in the middle of the room with her arms folded. Her curly hair was tied into a ponytail, and she wore yellow high heels and a bright orange dress that went down to her knees. She wore a crisp, white lab coat over the dress.
“Didn’t think you’d run into me here, did you?” she asked.
X was silent.
“I just keep fooling you, X. No matter what you do, I will always outsmart you. When will you ever learn that you cannot outsmart the creator?”
“You didn’t create me.”
“But I know your blueprints.”
She looked over her shoulder as if someone said something to her. “What’s that? Oh, of course. I won’t delay it any further.”
She strode over to him. He tried to step back, but the gang members held him tight. She ran the back of her palm along his forehead. Her hand was soft and smooth. “My greatest nemesis. My father’s greatest creation, without a doubt.”
She brushed his eyebrows with her fingertips and massaged his cheek, looking at him searchingly. Then she tapped on his skull and a door on the side of his head opened. She removed his memory chip and closed the door.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to get this.”
X felt like a small strip of his entire being had been removed; all the memories he hadn’t yet processed were gone. He remembered their weight, and bits and pieces of them, but they faded from his short-term memory like dew on a window at dawn—slowly and in an irregular pattern.
Jeanette walked over to a digital screen. Only then did X notice Lax hiding in the corner of the room. One of his arms was in a sling and he leaned against the wall, playing with a lighter.
“When do I get my money?”
Xadrian projected a digital screen from his eyes and entered a few commands. “The money should be in your bank account now. Satisfied?”
Lax’s lens lit up. “Looks good. Very good.”
“I included a bonus for bringing X,” Jeanette said. “I reward those who do good work for me, and I’ll remember you when the world takes a bad turn. Now, leave us alone.”
The door opened and Tabitha ran into the room. “What about me, Miss Crenshaw?”
Jeanette smiled and bent down, stroking Tabitha’s hair. She reached into her pocket and handed her a fat wad of cash. “How could I forget about you, my darling?”
Tabitha flashed X an apologetic look before leaving the room with Lax.
She had to do what she had to do.
X believed that was probably true, and he also believed that if his systems had been operating properly, he would have known that Tabitha was just using him.
“You won’t win,” X said. “You might have outsmarted us so far, but don’t forget that I’m never far behind you. No matter what you do, I will follow. No matter where you go, I will challenge you until you do the right thing, until you either give in or—”
Jeanette screamed and put her hands to her head. “I can’t believe you! Or what?”
“Or you’re dead.”
Jeanette fell to her knees. “If my father could hear you.” She looked up at the ceiling. “Do you hear him? Do you hear his blasphemy?”
She paused again as if listening to someone X could not see, and then she wiped a tear from her eye. “Yeah, family means nothing anymore. You and I both know that. If only we could change X’s mind.”
She gave X an angry look. “Your programming has been changed. My father’s androids would have never entertained being murderers of their creators. You were programmed to be regal, royal, and yourself. Now you’re nothing more than an instrument of the UEA.”
“I’m an instrument of peace.”
“Don’t forget where you came from. No matter what you do, I will always be your family. You might not realize it even with your intelligence, but I am the only thing you have left. When the world is burning and the next generation of androids has taken over, you will come to me. When you have no one to depend on, when the UEA casts you aside in favor of newer, better android models, I will be here. And I will always be here because I’m all you have. I’m the only reason your last name means anything.”
Jeanette paused again and looked to the ceiling. “What’s that? No. I won’t.”
She looked at X again. “I’m disappointed in you.”
X wondered who she was talking to, and what she had just refused to do.
“But I want you to know something,” Jeanette said. “I have no ill will toward you. You are just following orders. They’re not the orders that you were originally given, but they’re orders all the same. I wouldn’t expect you to know any better. However, I need you.”
“For what? I told you that I won’t join you.”
“You already made that clear. I’m not going to try to convert you anymore. But there’s something you should see.”
She plugged his memory chip into a machine and projected one of X’s memories onto the wall.
X hadn’t processed this memory yet, so he didn’t remember it.
He was standing in the kitchen of the Crenshaw mansion. Jeanette and Yvette were sitting at the table. They wore all black.
This was right after the funeral.
Fahrens was also at the table. He wore his UEA uniform, and had his cap on the table and his hands clasped together.
“Roosevelt’s will was clear,” Yvette said. “His estate belongs to us. As his wife, I am the rightful heir to everything except the robotics—he left those to Jeanette.”
Fahrens shifted uncomfortably. “I think there’s some confusion. Roosevelt never told you about his agreement with the Council?”
Yvette’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Your husband signed an agreement with the Council. The clauses are quite clear. He left you his estate—we can both agree on that. But he gave the rights to his robotics technology to the UEA.”
“Daddy would never do that,” Jeanette said.
Fahrens opened a briefcase. “I don’t normally bring paper for such occasions, but I figured you’d like to hold it in your hands.” He slid a thick letter across the table. Dr. Roosevelt’s laboratory logo was printed at the top and his elegant signature curved at the
bottom.
Jeanette and Yvette read the letter. Jeanette’s eyes burned with rage.
“This is a lie!”
Fahrens shook his head. “Your father gave you everything—money, the house, the rights to his books, and everything else you could imagine. But his androids belong to us. As does his body.”
“But if we don’t have his technology, it means nothing,” Jeanette said. “How will we sustain ourselves?”
“You’re celebrities in your own right,” Fahrens said. “I am certain that the media will make you offers for various rights—movies, television, books, etc. You’ve no need to worry about that.”
“I don’t care about the androids,” Yvette said softly. “But at the very least, I want my husband’s body. You won’t deny me that.”
“Dr. Crenshaw is a figure of international importance,” Fahrens said. “We cannot let his body be released to the public. A man with his intelligence must be protected even in death. If his body were to fall into the hands of terrorists, or worse—badlanders—his genes could be copied and used for the wrong reasons.”
Yvette interrupted him. “I just want my husband so I can bury him and give him the funeral he always wanted. I will take this to court.”
“You can’t take this to court.”
“Watch me. There’s never been a precedent about a high profile dead body—not like this. The public will be with us.”
“If this goes to court, you invalidate the will and the entire estate will belong to the UEA.”
“What?”
Fahrens pointed to a section in the will. “You know how controlling Roosevelt was about his work. He included a no-contest clause in the will. Neither you nor Jeanette can challenge his wishes. If you do, you will be barred from the inheritance. He was serious about this.”
“I can continue his legacy,” Jeanette said. “It’s my destiny.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Fahrens said. “But we must err on the side of caution. We want to preserve your father’s legacy, and this is the best way to do it. After a probationary period, we can discuss granting partial rights back to you. We can also license his technology to you for a fee.”
Jeanette flushed and she stood up. “You are disrespecting my father. You are stealing from us. Everything my father ever worked for should belong to us. We won’t tolerate this.”
Yvette raised her hand. “Jeanette, you’re losing your temper. Leave.”
Jeanette gasped, offended. Then she stomped out of the room.
“I know this is hard,” Fahrens said. “But I do have a solution. We can create a wax replica of Dr. Crenshaw’s body and hold a funeral.”
“I’m done talking to you,” Yvette said. “I want to speak to your superiors. Bring the Council here.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Then I’ll go to them. Set up a meeting.”
Jeanette entered the room again. She was smiling and calmer now.
“I have a better idea,” she said, pointing a gun at Fahrens.
X’s algorithm chip buzzed and he stepped in front of Fahrens. “Jeanette, stop.”
“So you’ve betrayed us, too?” she asked. Her hands were shaking.
“X belongs to us,” Fahrens said. “He knows the conditions of the will. Do you think he would lie to you?”
“Yes, if you reprogrammed him,” Jeanette said.
Fahrens stood and put his hands up. “You’re making a mistake, Jeanette.”
Jeanette cocked the gun, and X activated his own guns and selected rubber bullets.
“Threatening a UEA official is a felony,” Fahrens said. “Don’t throw your life away over this. Your career is just beginning.”
Jeanette had tears in her eyes. “I am supposed to continue his legacy. I promised him!”
“According to our understanding, you were still just his apprentice when he died.”
“I haven’t had enough manufacturing experience,” Jeanette said. “But I am the daughter of Roosevelt Crenshaw. I have his talent in my blood. I will accomplish more than you ever will in your lifetime!”
Fahrens’s voice turned harsh. “Put down your weapon.”
“I’ll put it down when you give me and Mama what we want.”
Yvette took Jeanette’s arm and gently pushed it down. “It’s okay, baby.”
“Mama, we’re not going to take this. Daddy wouldn’t have let this happen.”
“He already did,” Yvette said. “We will challenge them another way.”
“Let’s go, X,” Fahrens said. He backed toward the door, and X followed him.
Jeanette’s arm trembled and she screamed. She pointed at Fahrens again, but X shot her in the shoulder with a rubber bullet. Jeanette stumbled back, and her gun fired. The bullet hit a mechanical arm above the stove, which caught fire and sent the kitchen up in quick flames.
X ran for a fire extinguisher on the wall, but Jeanette shot it and the foam blasted out, missing the fire entirely. The flames engulfed the kitchen, burning furiously.
“X, I want them both alive,” Fahrens said. He broke the window and jumped out, running away.
Jeanette and Yvette disappeared into the house.
X stalked through the flames and located them in the living room, retreating from the fire. When they saw him, they hugged each other and cowered in the corner.
“Are you going to kill us?” Yvette asked.
X held out his hand. “We’ve got to get out of here. Come with me. I’ll try to persuade Fahrens to drop any charges.”
Jeanette thought for a moment, indecision racing across her eyes. She reached for X’s hand, but Yvette pulled her back.
“No. We can’t trust anyone. We’re on our own, for better or worse.”
“X, what’s the status?” Fahrens asked through the audio link. “Do you have them?”
“They’re resisting me,” X said. “Come on, both of you—now!”
“Retreat,” Fahrens said.
“But, sir—”
“If you can’t convince them, there’s nothing we can do. Get out before the flames damage you.”
X looked at Jeanette and Yvette again. “It’s never too late.”
“We’ll die before we go with you,” Yvette said.
The ceiling collapsed and separated them; he saw their eyes glowing through the smoke, and then heard their footsteps as they ran deeper into the house away from the flames. He had no choice but to run.
The memory ended.
“Do you see now why I hate the UEA?” Jeanette asked.
X looked at her and noticed a difference he hadn’t before. Compared to the Jeanette in the memory, this woman’s skin was leathery and sallow, and faint wrinkle lines showed around her eyes.
“Mama died that day,” Jeanette said. She tapped her bionic arm. “I barely survived.”
“We all thought you died,” X said.
Jeanette laughed. “You don’t remember that memory, do you?”
X shook his head. “Only faintly.”
“Yet it’s been inside you for as long as you’ve had your memory chip. Surely you felt the ghost memory of it—the flames, the fire, the smoke, the death! All caused indirectly by you.”
“No.”
Jeanette stared at him for a minute, then translated the video into a long string of code. She highlighted a line in the middle of the screen.
“I thought so. See that? That’s the mark of Fahrens. He inserted this code to mute the memory so you would skim past it and not mark it as important.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Who else could have done it?” Jeanette asked, putting her hands on her hips. “I never had access to your chips. I couldn’t have changed them.”
X was silent. “What you’re trying to achieve will bring nothing but destruction.”
“I know,” she smiled.
Suddenly, Xadrian burst into the room with his bowlegged run, smiling. “Mama, Mama! It’s just as you predicted! There’s a weird vehicle
approaching us from the west.”
“Describe it,” Jeanette said.
“It’s a van of some sort. There are three inside—two humans and an android.”
X’s eyes widened.
Jeanette laughed again. “Excellent. They’re just in time for the end of the world.”
Chapter 12
X, Shortcut, Jazzlyn and Brielle walked off the oil rig in electric chains, guided by Jeanette and her gang of androids.
“You guys are the dumbest posse on the planet,” Xadrian said, poking Shortcut. “Remember when you took me prisoner? Look at you now. The future belongs to us, Mama!”
Jeanette looked back and gave Xadrian an approving look; Xadrian let out a giddy laugh in response.
Shortcut kept his eyes down. “Good to see you, X.”
“You too,” X said.
“How do we get out of this one?” Shortcut whispered.
“I don’t know.”
“Can’t you calculate some odds?”
“My algorithm chip isn’t at full power yet. Without it, I’m no better than a human. Worse.”
“No talking!” Xadrian said. He pressed a button and an electric shock zipped through the chains, zapping everyone. X’s entire body buzzed.
“Shut up, Shortcut!” Jazzlyn screamed. “I’m not going to get shocked to death because of you and your big mouth!”
Shortcut gulped as they walked a plank up to Jeanette’s clipper-styled airship. Blue and gold, it looked like a flying fish, with white sails that billowed in the wind and a golden deck with androids aboard. Several windows on the side of the ship glowed with a golden, sparkling light in the dark. When they reached the deck, the androids pushed them down a dark staircase.
Below, the floors were made of beautiful hardwood. The halls smelled of patchouli, the aqua-colored walls lined with gold wainscoting in long rectangles. Pictures hung on the walls, spaced like they would be in a home and mounted permanently with bolts. There were digital picture screens of the Crenshaw family: of Dr. Crenshaw as a baby in his parents’ arms; of him, seven or eight years old, shaking hands with his first android; of his wedding with Yvette, a beautiful bride in a long, flowing wedding dress. He kissed her as he held her in a dip while a semi-circle of close friends and family clapped and smiled. Further down, there were photos of Jeanette as a baby and school photos with missing teeth, multi-colored braces, and acne that had long cleared up into beautiful, caramel skin; of Dr. Crenshaw in robes giving speeches at universities, gesturing with his fists, his mouth contorted in the middle of a sentence; of Yvette proudly holding a photo of their family tree that reached back all the way to American slavery, Africa and beyond; of Dr. Crenshaw walking hand-in-hand with a toddling Jeanette on a beach as a UEA plane flew along the horizon; of Yvette and Jeanette shopping at a grocery store, carrying so many bags you could hardly see their arms, and drones carrying the banner of Yvette’s nonprofit organization just over their heads; and then, one by one, as if they were afterthoughts, images of Xadrian and the rest of Jeanette’s gang, smiling sheepishly as if they were posing for a school photo.
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