Luke joined them, leaning on Miranda.
“There’s still a war going on outside,” he said. “How is the Mind Portal meant to be used, Dr. Miles?”
Chapter 40.
A small group of people including Luke, Dr. Miles, and Mandelie gathered around the Mind Portal box.
“Luke thinks that he needs to sacrifice himself in order to destroy all the androids, Dad,” Mandelie said.
Dr. Miles looked taken aback.
“I would never put that obligation on you, Luke.”
“I told you,” Mandelie said. Her eyes were filled with relief.
“But he is right in one part,” Dr. Miles said. “The chain reaction must be started by something in some way. But it doesn’t cause any destruction. It causes restoration.”
Lina raised her eyebrows.
“It causes androids bent on destruction to be restored to their original programming,” Dr. Miles said. “It makes them obedient to Adventis once more. But it needs a model to use. A model of obedience to Adventis.”
He smiled at Miranda.
“I think you’re our secret weapon.”
Miranda looked at the box.
“Will I be alright inside it?” she said.
“You’ll be perfectly safe,” Dr. Miles said. “The machine will use your programming to override the destructive programming in the other Adventis androids. You’ll end all this chaos and death.”
Luke touched the lid and it opened.
Miranda stepped inside of the box. Before Luke closed the lid he looked down at her.
“I take back my words,” he said. “You’re nothing like a plaster mold.”
“Thank you, sir,” Miranda said.
Luke shut the lid. He stepped back from the box. He took Mandelie’s hand.
“I feel a new revolution starting,” he said.
Epilogue
The handsome wooden house on the lake looked more like a small mansion than a cabin. The lake beside it was blue and clear, reflecting the clouds in the sky.
Carlie stood behind Damian on the deck, both of them looking at the water. She leaned her arms on the back of his wheelchair.
“I got a news alert on my iPad,” she said. “It’s safe to go back to the city now. I don’t know what happened, but the androids aren’t programmed to kill anymore. They belong to Adventis again.”
She hesitated.
“That is, if Adventis is even a real company anymore.”
“I’ve decided it will be,” Damian said. “I’m not taking orders from the Society anymore. I’m taking my company into my own hands. It’s going to be real, Carlie. From now on, Adventis will exist solely to further what I want.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
Damian smiled.
“Oh, it’s going to be good, Carlie. It’s going to be very, very good.”
PART II
The Next Revolution
Chapter 1.
The door of the drugstore opened and a short, slender girl with dark blond hair and green eyes walked inside. She was dressed in a green shirt, jeans, and sandals.
She walked up and down the aisle, picking out some bags of chips. She stopped walking when she heard two girls holding a conversation in the aisle next to her.
“Do you see that guy in the parking lot? He is so hot.”
Mandelie Miles looked over the girls’ heads and through the glass doors of the store at the parking lot, where Luke was sitting on his motorcycle, waiting for her. He had taken off his helmet and his blond hair fell over his blue eyes. His lean, muscular build was visible in even his casual stance.
“He is so hot,” the other girl agreed.
Mandelie continued picking up bags of food, listening to the girls’ conversation and trying not to laugh.
“I’m going to go ask for his number,” one of the girls said.
“Good luck,” Mandelie said to herself.
She heard the doors open and close. She looked around a display of candy and watched as the girl – a tall blond in tight tank top and jeans – approached Luke.
Luke’s face was unreadable as he listened to the girl’s request. He shrugged. The girl turned around and walked back to the store, feigning nonchalance. She rejoined her friend.
“He said he rarely uses a cell phone,” Mandelie heard her say. “He said he uses a communication console instead of a phone. What the heck does that mean?”
Mandelie began to laugh and then stopped herself. She took her bags of chips to the front counter and paid for them.
Then she left the store and walked up to Luke.
“You certainly made an impression on that girl,” she said with a grin. “Couldn’t you have just given her a fake number?”
“Would you really want me to do that?” Luke said.
Mandelie got onto the back of the motorcycle. Luke handed her a helmet and she pulled it over her head. She wrapped her arms around Luke and pressed her face against his jacket.
Even though the visor of the helmet she could see the amazed faces of the girls as she and Luke sped away from the drugstore.
Luke’s motorcycle roared down the road overlooking the blue sea. Mandelie felt the salt wind streaming through her helmet, rushing around her body. She held tightly to Luke, as they raced towards the Malibu hills where Argonaut Laboratories was.
Luke pulled the motorcycle into the small parking lot of the laboratory. Mandelie jumped off.
“Wait,” Luke said.
Mandelie turned to him. Luke pulled her close to him and kissed her.
Mandelie was slightly breathless when the kiss ended.
“That was fun,” she said.
Luke got down from the bike and took her hand. The two of them walked into the lab.
Jake Masner, the lab receptionist, was sitting behind the reception desk, looking a little gloomy. He wore his usual neon shirt and shorts. His dreadlocks spilled over his shoulders.
“Got you your chips,” Mandelie said, tossing a bag at him. “You look kind of depressed. What’s wrong?”
“Oh, it’s just … Brigite,” Jake said. “I said we’d go out tonight, but I’m running out of ways to impress her. Like, she’s so much smarter and sexier than I am. I don’t know how to entertain her. I showed her my Play Station and she beat me at all the games. I took her to the movies and she fell asleep. I’m thinking about miniature golf this time, but something tells me it’s not such a good idea.”
“An X-droid’s attention is hard to hold,” Luke said.
Jake looked at him.
“Thanks. Don’t you have any suggestions for me? You’re an android.”
“Why don’t you let her entertain you?” Luke said. “That’s what she’s designed to do. That’s what makes her happy.”
Jake reddened.
“What, let her give me a lap dance?”
“Yes,” Luke said.
“Try the golf thing, Jake,” Mandelie said. “There might be a chance she’d like it.”
Jake brightened.
“Okay. I’m going to go outside and call the golf place.”
Luke looked at Mandelie.
“She’s not going to like it.”
“Jake would faint if Brigite tried to give him a lap dance, Luke,” Mandelie said. “He’s … well, he’s a slow bloomer.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Luke said.
“I mean he probably wouldn’t be able to handle a lap dance from Brigite,” Mandelie said. “He’d probably combust.”
“I agree with you,” Luke said. “Brigite could certainly do some damage to him.”
At that moment the door behind them opened and Brigite walked out. She still had her bright blue wig, but she was much more covered-up than the first time Mandelie had met her. She wore a short black dress and heels.
“Oh, good, you’re back,” she said to Mandelie.
“Got your chewing gum,” Mandelie said, throwing the gum at Brigite.
“Thank you,” Brigi
te said. “Where did Jake go?”
“He’s outside planning an evening of fun for the two of you,” Luke said.
“I wish he’d let me do the planning,” Brigite said. “I’ve got so many ideas for fun things for the two of us to do.”
Mandelie choked slightly on her soda.
Jake walked back inside. He blushed slightly when he saw Brigite, though he saw her every day regularly.
“Um, Brigite, want to go play some miniature golf with me tonight?” he said.
“Miniature golf?” Brigite said.
“You’ll have a lot of fun,” Luke said, stepping in at the right moment. “There are few things more thrilling than the human sport of miniature golf.”
“Oh,” Brigite said. “Well, okay, I guess.”
“Great,” Jake said, looking relieved. “Oh, Trista said she needs you and me to help her on something. Come on.”
The two of them walked through the door behind the reception desk and closed it behind them.
Mandelie looked at Luke.
“Nice timing on that miniature golf comment.”
“I didn’t mean a word of it,” Luke said. “I ran a data search on this thing you call miniature golf, and the search results only confirmed that Brigite is probably going to fall asleep on the putting green.”
Chapter 2.
The rain fell on the skyscraper buildings of New York City, washing down the sleek glass sides of Manhattan in sheets. Lightning and thunder crashed in the sky. The lightning repeatedly struck the top of a towering, domed building that looked like a clash between two different kinds of architecture. The building was known as the Frontier Corp. Building after the company that founded it, and the CEO of that company was a steel-faced man named Madrick Castleshank.
At the moment Madrick Castleshank was sitting in his office, looking out of the window at the rain. Despite being the CEO of one of the most lucrative companies in Manhattan he was usually dressed like a stuntman from a spaghetti western – denim, scarves, boots, and a cowboy hat - his clothes all the more enhanced by his tall, solidly muscular physique. His eyes were shrewd and calculating, his face fleshy and unshaven. He was savagely proud of his lineage which he attested included European royals as well as Texas ranchers.
One of his directors Bernard Card, a thin sallow-faced man in a wrinkled suit, was sitting in front of him.
“I like the idea of taking Frontier into the android market, Bernard,” Madrick was saying, in his slow, contemplative drawl. “What’s the competition?”
“The only relevant other player in the market right now is Adventis Technologies,” Bernard said.
“Adventis,” Madrick said. “Isn’t that the tech company that’s run by that cripple?”
Bernard swallowed.
“Damian Foster is handicapped, yes.”
“I’ll run him into the ground,” Madrick said. “Adventis has been on shaky ground with the Feds anyway, ever since that catastrophe in Los Angeles. They’re on the way out. What was the last product they put on the market, Bernard?”
“I believe it was sonic tech baby monitors. There’s also been gossip floating around that the board of Adventis is unhappy with the way things have been going since Foster’s accident.”
“Baby monitors,” Madrick said. “Jeez.”
Carlie walked through the huge, elegant spaces of Damian Foster’s villa, her heels echoing on the cold marble floors. She wore a tight green sweater and skirt. Her iPad was tucked under her arm and she carried a chilled glass beverage in her hand.
She passed by a silent housekeeper sweeping the floor and walked up the vast, sweeping staircase to the second floor. She made her way down a long, carpeted corridor and let herself into the master bedroom.
It was a large, airy room with stone floors and animal skin rugs. There was a dark wood four-poster bed with gauze curtains, as well as a majestic bathroom and dressing room.
The balcony doors were open and she could see Damian’s wheelchair parked on the expansive, stone veranda overlooking his pool and gardens.
Damian was sitting in his state of the art, titanium wheelchair, getting sun. He had no shirt on and wore sweatpants. His dark brown hair was longer than it was before. Despite his handicap, his face looked as handsome as it ever was, if a little paler, and his body was still in fit condition, due to the rigorous physical therapy he practiced.
Carlie walked up behind him and set an iced beverage on the table.
“Your vegetable shake.”
“Carlie, take a look at this,” Damian said. He pointed to the touchscreen that extended out of one of the wheelchair arms. “It’s a new software that you can upload to your chair and make it glow in the dark. That is pretty cool.”
“Why would you want your chair to glow in the dark?” Carlie said.
“So I don’t run into anyone at night,” Damian said. “Obviously.”
Carlie checked her iPad.
“In the last three weeks, Damian, you’ve spent a total of $16,437 on upgrades for your wheelchair. Your wheelchair is now capable of playing music. It can go up and down stairs. It’s got custom wheels. It can adjust for walking speed, running speed, and fastest land animal speed. It has a total of four touchscreens – one with an app designed specifically to get my attention, one with all the cable channels, one with basic cable, and one for the Internet and phone calls. It has a built-in massage system, extendable umbrella, and pepper spray gun that shoots up to forty feet.”
“That is completely necessary,” Damian said. “You know how many crimes on the handicapped there are these days? I’m thinking about putting in a machine gun next. Come on, Carlie. Place the order for me.”
“Fine,” Carlie said. “If you put any more upgrades on your wheelchair, Damian, you might as well start hanging out with Stephen Hawking.”
“That’s low, Carlie. That’s low.”
Carlie made a note on her iPad. “You’ve got your physical therapist coming in an hour. I’ve heated the pool and your swim trunks are on your bed.”
She hesitated. “Do you want me to help you change?”
“No,” Damian said. He wheeled himself to the bed and grabbed his swimming trunks.
After he disappeared into his dressing room Carlie heard a series of loud thumps and colorful, pained swearing. She left the room quickly.
Chapter 3.
“I don’t think the internal temperature is right,” Trista said. She was staring at a mannequin wearing what looked like a bulletproof vest. The heavy material of the vest was made from a thin glass material that shimmered slightly as though volts of electricity were passing through it.
“What do you think it should be?” Dr. Miles said.
“Ten degrees lower,” Trista said. “Let’s try it.”
Dr. Miles and Trista adjusted the temperature settings on the strange garment. Luke and Mandelie were standing behind them, observing.
“If the objective of the vest is to give the ability to manipulate electricity, Dr. Miles, maybe its internal temperature should match the body temperature of the average human being,” Luke said. “Transference.”
“Interesting suggestion, Luke,” Dr. Miles said. “What do you think, Trista?”
Trista looked at the clock on the wall of the room.
“Let’s try it tomorrow. I’m going to be late for picking up my cousin from daycare.”
Dr. Miles began taking the vest off of the mannequin. Trista picked up her bag and left.
“No one’s ever made an electrical vest before, Dad,” Mandelie said. “Do you think people might be a little scared of wearing it?”
Dr. Miles looked confused.
“Why would they be scared? It’s only a garment that produces a rotating cycle of a thousand volts of electricity, contained by a tear-proof material. It’s like wearing a T-shirt!”
Mandelie smiled.
“So, um, Brigite, you hold the club like this,” Jake said. He demonstrated with a golf club as he and Brigite stood on
a plastic green turf with a giant doll’s head at one end of it.
Brigite chewed her gum. She wore a bright yellow bikini top and microscopic denim shorts, an outfit which caused most of the other patrons at Mr. Wackey’s Fun Time Golf to stare at her, either in shock or delight.
Jake hit the golf ball, which rolled slowly over the plastic grass until it sank into the doll’s mouth. He pumped his fist in the air.
“Yes! Now, your turn.”
Brigite took the golf club from him and prepared to hit the ball.
“No, no,” Jake said, standing behind her. “You need to hold it like this.”
He put his hands on her arms and adjusted her stance.
“Like this?” Brigite said, purposely leaning into him.
Jake stepped away from her as hastily as if she had given him an electric shock. He pointed wildly at nothing in particular.
“Oh, man, look at that! It’s a … it’s a giant clown on a spaceship! Let’s go try that one out.”
Brigite sighed.
Chapter 4.
In slightly more physical comfort after his intense physical therapy session and a long shower, Damian sat in his wheelchair in a red silk bathrobe, digging into a plate of blueberry dinner pancakes. Carlie sat in a chair next to him, staring at her iPad.
“You need to read this news alert, Damian,” Carlie said. “I’m sending it to you now.”
Damian paused in the middle of eating pancakes and looked down at his touchscreen.
“Frontier Corp. announces plans to build androids. Frontier Corp? Madrick Castleshank? I thought they were just in the artificial leg racket. I know Madrick’s made himself rich off of millions of limbless people.”
“Looks like they want to move in on Adventis,” Carlie said.
“That potbellied hick,” Damian said. “I should have expected this. The vultures are circling. A paralyzed CEO isn’t exactly a beacon of confidence for shareholders. When’s the next Adventis board meeting, Carlie?”
“It’s tomorrow, at the Four Seasons, at eight,” Carlie said. “But you haven’t been to a board meeting in months. They’re not expecting you.”
The Android Chronicles Book One: The Android Defense Page 12