by Ray Verola
As they approached her office, Sophia grabbed Taylor’s arm. They stopped several feet from the office door. “Listen,” she said, “you might have to carry on without me. I feel I’m slipping away. Scully damaged my head. If I can do what needs to be done, I will. I’m trying, really, I’m trying. But if I can’t . . .”
Sophia looked hard into Taylor’s eyes as she grasped the front of his shirt with both hands. She kept her voice low, but there was an urgency in her speech that Taylor hadn’t experienced before. “Here’s what you must do. Listen carefully. When we get to my office, there’s an old-style butane cigarette lighter in the right upper side drawer of my desk. Use this to light the fuse. I’ve hidden the black thermos—that’s what we call the secure containers that hold the Nitro—behind my bookshelf. To light the fifteen-minute fuse, find the book Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. It’s on the upper shelf, upper-right corner. Light it and the deed is done.”
She coughed several times, her body shaking from head to toe. Taylor started to speak, but she put a hand out to stop him. “You’ll also need to get RW visitor passes,” she continued, “for yourself and your friends who are still locked up. Passes are needed to ensure you all can move around the complex without being hassled by any robot security you might encounter. Take as many passes as you need. They’re in my left upper desk drawer. Also, take the key to a RobotWorld PTV so you and your friends can get the hell out of here before the place blows. The key’s in the back of the same drawer. It will operate any RobotWorld PTV in the lot. Then get down to the basement where you were held. Are you getting all this?”
“Absolutely,” Taylor said.
“Good.” Sophia’s speech was slow and halting. Taylor had never experienced her speaking in this manner. She said, “There’s a room in the basement marked Sensitive Storage at one end of the hall. Go in there and get the two remaining black thermoses of Nitro out of the deep freezer. We don’t want these containers adding to the explosion. The whole city would be razed. Nitro is completely safe in its container and as long as it doesn’t come into contact with fire. You’ll need a special solid-black card key for the freezer. I keep it in the back of my middle drawer. Eventually, you’ll need to dump the contents of the thermoses in water. Very important. That will neutralize the Nitro forever. After you free your friends, get as far away from here as possible. Remember, you have fifteen minutes from the time you light the fuse. Do I need to repeat all this? Or has the outstanding memory of Taylor Morris gotten it down perfectly?”
“Fahrenheit 451. Nice touch,” Taylor said. “Got it.” He pointed to his head. “I’ve got the instructions right here. Have no fear.” He paused. “But you’ll be with me all the way.”
“No,” Sophia said. “I must be destroyed too. As I told you, I must be terminated along with this whole complex. This is the way it must be. No humans will die except the poor excuses for human beings, Shane and Scully. Evil never takes a holiday. So if you can bring it off, RobotWorld, the robots in it, the rebooting facilities needed to keep alive those robots outside the facility, and the only two humans who deserve to die with RW, will die.”
Taylor took a deep breath. He and Sophia moved to the door. Sophia inserted her key and they entered.
A startled Shane was behind Sophia’s desk, rummaging through a drawer. He stopped his searching. To Sophia, Shane said, “Where’s the fuckin’ Nitro?” Shane’s gaze focused on her mangled head. “It looks now like you legitimately can’t talk. No matter. I’ll call security.” Shane leaned over the desk and reached toward the telescreen. But Taylor sprinted toward him and tackled him in much the same way as he’d tackled Scully.
“You dirty son of a bitch,” Shane yelled as they crashed into the piranha fish tank, spilling water onto the floor and almost tipping the tank over.
Taylor and Shane bounced off the tank and fell to the floor.
“Let’s leave our mothers out of this,” Taylor said.
They rolled around the floor puffing and grunting for thirty seconds before Taylor brought the proceedings to a sudden close with a hard right cross to Shane’s jaw.
“My second knockout of the day,” Taylor said. He stood over the unconscious Shane.
Sophia limped over, sat on Shane’s chest, and pinned his hands against the floor. She looked up at Taylor. “I’ll keep him here. I’m strong enough—in body and spirit—to accomplish this task. You need to get started on the instructions I’ve programmed, in a sense, into your brain. Get on with it.”
“What about you?”
Sophia raised her voice. The words came out clearly. “I told you, it’s part of the plan. I stay here.” A violent neck spasm rocked her head back and forth three or four times. As she spoke, her words were more slurred than ever. “Get the lighter, the visitor passes, the Nitro freezer key, and the PTV key; set Fahrenheit on fire; get the two remaining black thermoses of Nitro and dump them in water; free your friends; and get the hell out of here.”
“Are you sure—”
The words came out powerfully from Sophia’s twisted mouth. “Do it now!”
Taylor felt a catch in his throat. He moved to Sophia’s desk, removed the lighter, the Nitro freezer key, the PTV key, and the RW visitor passes for himself and those trapped in the basement. He stuffed all but the butane lighter in his pockets, then hustled to the bookshelf and used the lighter to set fire to Fahrenheit 451. He set the countdown function on his wrist computer to fifteen minutes. Then he turned to Sophia, who made a quick motion with her hand toward the door.
Taylor waved back at her. “Goodbye, my friend.”
He affixed an RW guest pass to his shirt and raced out the door.
65
Taylor made his way to the middle of the hall and pressed the button to summon the elevator.
“Halt!” came a strong voice from behind him.
Taylor turned to see a muscular male RobotWorld security guard. Taylor told himself to remain cool as he smiled at what was certainly a robot guard.
“You don’t look familiar,” the guard said. “I’ll need to see authorization.”
Taylor tapped his visitor pass. The guard gazed at the pass for five seconds, analyzing it with his eyes.
“There’s something wrong,” the guard said. “With the pass. Something wrong.”
“I assure you, the pass is good,” Taylor said. “Take another look.” His eyes moved to the guard’s legs. Robots were notoriously weak in the knee area. If the guard continued to balk, Taylor would either execute a judo snap kick to the leg area or tackle him there in the hopes of disabling the bot.
The guard focused his eyes again on the pass, then he looked at Taylor and smiled. “Upon review, it seems fine. Sorry to have bothered you, sir. Have a nice day.” The guard walked away.
The elevator came. On the way down to the basement, Taylor went over in his mind the things he needed to do and the order in which to do them. As soon as the elevator door opened, he sprinted to the end of the hall, to the room marked Sensitive Storage. He used his master key to get into the room, then the all-black key to open the freezer in the corner. He removed the two black thermoses containing Nitro and stuffed them into a small carrying case that was on a table. He slung the strap of the case over his shoulder and left the room. The countdown function on the wrist computer showed 10:15.
He dashed to the cluster of storage rooms at the other end of the hall where he’d been locked up and used his key to open a door. Behind the door was Austin, sitting on the floor in the dark.
Austin said, “Taylor, you’re a sight for sore eyes. How did you—”
“No time to talk. We’ve gotta get out of here, fast. Follow me.”
Austin attempted to rise from the floor. But he got only halfway up, then awkwardly crumpled to the floor like an old building being demolished by explosives. Taylor rushed over to him and helped the old man to his feet.
&
nbsp; “Are you okay?” Taylor asked.
“I guess these old bones are showing their age,” Austin responded. “Before you opened the door, I thought I was finished. All I’ve ever hoped for was a good run. I thought it was over.” He exhaled loudly.
“You’re having a great run—and it’s not over yet,” Taylor said.
“I’ve got my bearings back. Don’t worry about me. I’ll keep up.”
The two hustled to the next door. Roz was seated on a chair in the dark. Taylor ran to her and kissed her on the lips. “No time to talk, hon,” he said. “This place will go up in flames in less than ten minutes.”
In short order he freed Tracey, Errol, and Max.
Taylor checked his wrist computer. 8:05. He had given each person an RW visitor pass to wear on their shirt as he freed them. They hightailed it to the elevator bay in the center of the hall. Taylor pressed the call button, and ten seconds later they all boarded a high-speed elevator.
Taylor hit the control panel button for the garage. “We need to be quick. This place will blow sky-high in a little over seven minutes. But we’re right on schedule. No need for out-of-control hurrying. I’ve got a key for a large PTV to get us out of here.”
Just as the panel screen flashed “G” for the garage level, they experienced a hard bump as the elevator came to an abrupt stop. The doors didn’t open.
Roz looked at Taylor. “What now?” she said. “You think they’re on to us?”
Taylor focused on the space where the door sides should have separated. “They still haven’t fixed the elevator problems. Happened all the time. The only thing that didn’t hum with precision the whole time I worked here.” He pushed the “door open” button. Nothing. “These damn machines will be the death of us yet.”
“No way we can use the emergency call button,” Austin said.
Taylor said, “But there is a manual door-open button somewhere in this panel menu. I’ll find it.” After ten seconds of frantic tapping, it popped on the screen. “We’re still okay.” He pressed the button on the control panel. “They had to put this menu item here for all the problems they experienced with these elevators.” After they heard a click, Taylor looked at Max. “You grab one side of the door and push. I’ll do the same with the other.”
They tugged hard on the doors and opened them almost all the way. Most of the elevator cab had stopped below the garage level, with only the top four feet of the cab reaching the garage floor.
Taylor said to the group, “Max and I will boost you all up. Starting with the lightest. We need to be fast, but we’re still good on time.”
Taylor and Max each locked their own hands and held them lower than waist-level to create stirrup-like support. They boosted Roz, Tracey, Austin, and Errol to the garage. Then the four who’d made it out of the elevator reached down. Roz and Tracey helped Taylor up. Austin and Errol did the same for Max.
Taylor looked to his wrist computer. “Six minutes on the dot. Plenty of time.”
“I won’t be comfortable with the time until we’re the hell out of here,” Roz said.
They strode to the PTV parking area and approached a kiosk with a guard on duty.
“May I help you, sir?” the robot guard said to Taylor.
Taylor produced the RobotWorld PTV key. “My friends and I have taken an off-day tour of this wonderful facility and have enjoyed our visit immensely. Because of the holiday, public transportation is limited, so the host of our tour, RobotWorld’s president Sophia Ross, has graciously given us permission to take one of your PTVs back to our hotel.” Taylor glanced at his wrist. 4:50.
“This is quite unusual,” the guard said.
Taylor held up the PTV key. “Obviously, I have the key. It was given to me by Ms. Ross. So, we’d just like to get in the vehicle and get back to the hotel.” Taylor did his best to twist his face into a smile. “It’s been a long day. Long but enjoyable.”
The guard maintained his flat affect. “Let me call up to Ms. Ross’s office to verify that you can take one of our PTVs. It shouldn’t take long.”
The guard hit a button on his desk. The communication device beeped several times with no answer.
4:01. Taylor said, “Clearly, I didn’t steal this key. I assure you Sophia Ross gave it to us as a courtesy. We do need to leave.” He pointed to Tracey. “This female member of our delegation has been battling the flu all week. You can see she looks rather ill. She forgot her medication at the hotel and is in an obvious bit of distress. Could you let us leave, please?”
“Still no answer from Ms. Ross’s office. I don’t think—”
From the speaker of the guard’s communication device came the clear voice of Sophia. “Talk to me.”
“Ms. Ross,” the guard said, “I have a group in the garage who claim you gave them permission to take one of our PTVs back to their hotel.”
“Oh, yes. I sure did. We had a very pleasant meeting. They are exceptionally good people. Please let them leave with one of our vehicles.”
“Very well, Ms. Ross. Thank you.”
Taylor was shocked at how strong her voice sounded. Loud enough to be picked up by the speaker, Taylor said, “Thank you once again, Ms. Ross.”
The guard hit a button and the mechanical gate opened. He smiled and nodded at the group.
Taylor and the rest quick-stepped to a large PTV. He got behind the wheel and looked at his wrist. “Two minutes and fifty-five seconds,” he announced to the group with a forced laugh. “Right on schedule.” He hit the start button and nothing happened. The strained smile on his face melted. He pressed the button a second time. Nothing. A third time and the dash lights came on and the motor purred. “Third time’s the charm,” he said.
66
Taylor gunned the PTV out of the RW parking lot at near maximum speed. As they cleared the gate, a large yellow school PTV turned the corner in front of them and headed for the RW entrance.
Taylor stopped his PTV instantly.
“A bunch of kids on a school trip,” Roz said.
“That can’t happen,” Taylor said. He turned his vehicle around and headed full-speed for the yellow PTV. “I’ll cut them off before they get to the gate,” he said. “If I can’t quickly convince the driver to turn around, I’m gonna jump out and commandeer the damn thing. One of you will drive this PTV away from here.”
Taylor sped past the yellow PTV and cut in front of it, twenty feet from the RW gate. The yellow PTV came to an abrupt stop. Taylor maneuvered his vehicle near the driver’s side of the other PTV.
The driver of the yellow PTV rolled his window down. “What are you doing?” he screamed.
“Listen, pal,” Taylor said. “They’re evacuating the RobotWorld grounds. A big-time electrical fire sweeping through the place. I thought I’d warn you. You need to turn around and get as far away from here as possible.”
The driver, a grossly overweight older man with a gray goatee and no hair on his head, looked at the RW complex. “I don’t see signs of any trouble.”
“Oh, it’s coming, pal,” Taylor said. “We’re getting away from here with all deliberate speed. You need to follow us. Now.”
The driver arched his eyebrows. “I don’t know. These kids were looking forward to this trip.”
“The trip is unimportant. Are you hearing me? If you don’t turn around, the safety of your passengers is on you.”
The man shrugged.
Roz leaned out the rear passenger window. “Sir, you need to turn around now. It’s a matter of life and death for you and the kids.”
“Okay,” Taylor said, “we’re leaving. We’ve done all we can to warn you. Do you agree to turn around?”
“I guess so. I believe you. Lead the way. I’ll follow. Can’t risk the kids.”
Hearing those words, Taylor felt a relief of the tension in his shoulders. He accelerated the PTV
down the road, away from RW, and onto the expressway. He looked in the rearview mirror. The yellow PTV followed and turned off at the first exit.
“Glad I didn’t have to jump out and strong-arm the old man,” Taylor said to the group.
He pushed the PTV to maximum speed. In less than thirty seconds, he pulled into a parking place near a bridge over the Anacostia River. He removed one black thermos from the carrying case, poured the clear contents into the river, and then threw the empty thermos into the water. He did the same with the second black thermos. He got back in the PTV and floored it. 1:15. He wanted to be in a special place when RobotWorld blew—the highest point of the expressway. It was the view he so enjoyed each day as he returned home from work at RobotWorld, looking to the east and marveling at the Capital City skyline dominated by the gigantic RobotWorld complex. Back in the day when he thought he was the luckiest man on the face of the earth with his great job and a perfect robot girlfriend whose face he could hardly recall. And it seemed so long ago that he’d almost forgotten her name. Almost, but not quite.
Taylor guided the PTV into a parking place on the high point of the expressway. He felt a tightness in his chest. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, as he’d done so many times. A feeling of calm washed over his body. His breathing was free and clear. It hit him once again how he hadn’t been bothered by asthma for—he couldn’t remember how long. The wrist countdown showed twenty-two seconds.
Everyone got out of the PTV and looked toward the huge RobotWorld complex. Just to the west of the RW structure, the beginning of the traditional government-sponsored Founders Day fireworks show from the Mall in the center of the downtown area lit up the sky, despite it still being hours from sunset.
“I suspect we’ll be seeing a more explosive, more spectacular display of fireworks real soon,” said Taylor. “Less than ten seconds now.” The group huddled together and remained quiet.
It started with what appeared to be a silent flash of lightning piercing right through the center of the complex. In seconds, a bright-white light expanded outward to the left and right of the building. Then came a loud boom that shook the ground on which they were standing even though they were miles away. Within a minute, the giant complex disappeared in a huge ball of flame and dust as tons of cement and steel were pulverized into tiny grains of matter. A massive white, sandy cloud hung over what once was the mighty RW facility. The cloud torpidly rose to the sky, leaving no evidence of the colossal structure that once existed.