The Eye of Orion_Book 1_Gearjackers

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The Eye of Orion_Book 1_Gearjackers Page 12

by Mitch Michaelson


  He coaxed it to move faster as he backed away. That was a good thing too, as it wasn’t just the wall collapsing. The whole six-floor building tilted and crumpled into the street with a powerful, deafening crash. The robot disappeared in the dust.

  As it settled, Steo got off the glider and watched as the robot walked out of the cloud. It hadn’t been destroyed, only dusted. He took a good look at the robot when it came in front of him. He couldn’t identify any characteristics similar to ones he knew.

  The robot’s eyes didn’t focus on the same point. That could be by design, but Steo doubted it. Robotic eyes were merely sensors and didn’t need to be identical, in fact it was redundant. Nevertheless, if the robot was designed to approximate a human, they should probably point in the same direction. This robot’s blue eyes didn’t seem coordinated.

  Steo took a chance. He got closer and lifted a sleeve. The robot was made of flexible bundles of filaments, like a metal person without skin.

  The robot mumbled syllables, possibly words, that Steo didn’t understand. “Shi … shus … san … na … zo … rei … nou … sha.” It repeated.

  Latching onto the last part, Steo said, “Are you Renosha? Is that your name?”

  “Rei … nou … sha,” repeated the robot.

  “I’m Steo,” he said pointing to himself. “Renosha? Is that you?” Steo pointed at the old, sad robot.

  There was a long pause. Steo could see he wasn’t shutting down, but couldn’t tell if he comprehended.

  “I am,” said the robot. He straightened and his eyes focused.

  Steo stepped back. This was the most peculiar robot he’d ever encountered. He truly acted like he was from a different age. He walked instead of hovered, which was really inefficient. He had bundles for limbs instead of flexible tubes, and he had an actual head with eyes, ears, nose, mouth and beard – all metal.

  The robot carried a long metal pole for balance. His robes were rags. Steo didn’t know what to say.

  The robot spoke with a voice creaky and dry. “You are a young bzzzt, aren’t you?”

  Before Steo could reply, the robot repeated, “You are a young human, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I’m a human. Do you live in these ruins?” Steo asked.

  “My home isn’t ruined. It’s up ahead.”

  “That way?” Steo pointed.

  “Indeed,” he replied.

  “The temple?”

  “Verily.” His dialect seemed archaic to Steo.

  The robot walked to the metal temple. Steo joined him in the walk, his glider floating along behind.

  “Renosha,” chuckled the robot. “What is your name, young human?”

  “I’m Steorathan Liet.”

  “You rescued me, Steorathan khhhhhh,” said the robot. “You rescued me, Steorathan Liet.”

  “I suppose so, Renosha. I didn’t think you wanted the building to smash you flat.”

  “I came because you called.”

  They arrived at the foot of the temple. Renosha walked up the steps carefully and Steo felt an urge to help him, like he was an old man.

  “Is this your temple?”

  “As much as anything could be.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “More than two thousand parsecs,” Renosha said.

  “Um, Renosha, a parsec is a measurement of distance,” Steo corrected. The robot must have severe memory damage to forget something like that.

  “Oh. Then I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Come, let me return the favor.”

  They reached the top of the steps and entered the temple. Renosha led Steo through the empty rooms.

  “I have technology that you know not, Steo. Perhaps I will give it to you as a gift. Follow me.”

  “Is it powerful?” Steo asked hopefully.

  “It is potent in ways you cannot yet understand. Let me show you.”

  Renosha walked into the cluttered bay in the back. He pulled back a tarp and showed Steo a pile of machinery that was rusted together. Renosha pointed at it proudly.

  “That’s junk, Renosha.” Steo kicked it. It was nearly solid rust and totally useless. “I couldn’t sell that for scrap.”

  Renosha looked at the pile in surprise. “Someone moved my devices. Ah, I remember. Over here.”

  The robot led Steo to a big square block with dirt-covered objects on it. They didn’t look promising to Steo. In fact some were just pieces. Steo picked up a few and set them back down. Renosha stared off into the distance.

  “Sorry old fellow, these aren’t serviceable anymore.”

  Renosha walked around pulling back covers. Steo leaned against the block and crossed his arms. Eventually Renosha stood and returned to Steo. He lifted his pole and quicker than he looked, shoved Steo’s buttock.

  “Don’t lean on my block,” Renosha said. “You might scratch it.”

  Steo stood away from the block and stared at him, wondering if the robot was damaged enough to be dangerous. Then Renosha tapped the block with the end of his pole. A line appeared around the rim and the top lifted a few inches. Renosha pushed the lid and it floated out of the way. Steo looked inside. There were several devices sitting there, untouched by weather or dust. Renosha reached down and selected a few of the shiny devices, handing one to Steo. It looked like a large metal plate.

  “Here, this is a prrrrrr shield drone,” the robot said.

  It was heavy. Steo fumbled with it until he realized it was similar to a tension shield, and a little like his glider. He found the control in the center and clicked it on. The shield rotated vertically and hovered in front of him. A tiny movement from the shield made him curious. Renosha stood back to watch. Steo stepped to the right, away from the block, and the shield moved with him. He rotated and the shield floated around him. He hopped and it bounced in the air.

  “Cool! It’s a floating tension shield,” Steo said.

  “It’s more than that, boy,” Renosha said grimly as he lifted a gun and pointed it at Steo.

  “Hey! Don’t – !” Steo said as Renosha pulled the trigger.

  Projectiles from a gravity gun fly much faster than bullets propelled by explosives. Eighteen were in flight toward Steo at hypersonic speeds.

  None reached their target. They skipped and ricocheted forcefully off the small shield. It had jumped in front of Steo, saving his life.

  Steo dropped his hands from his face and exhaled loudly. He laughed. “Ha haa! The shield protects me from threats! How does it know –”

  Renosha fired again. He shot at Steo’s feet, his head, his torso, emptying the 176 projectile clip in an instant. A stream of hypersonic beads flew at Steo. Had even one hit him he would have died. The shield reacted faster than Steo could see, stopping every one. The ground was littered with small, flattened beads.

  Steo was sweating and scared now. “Renosha! Stop that! I command you to stop shooting at me!”

  Renosha tossed away the gun. “The gun is empty. The lesson is finished.”

  “Shield drone!” Steo said.

  “Yes, a shield drone,” Renosha said calmly.

  Steo took a bit to collect himself. “Okay, so it’s really good.” He felt there was something unusual about this drone.

  Robots had powerful processors. They could make phenomenal calculations per second. Given enough data they could theoretically do anything. Computers with dedicated functions provided averages based on billions of data points, but not estimates. No computer could predict the future. If you asked a robot to predict tomorrow’s weather, it would ask for data. Weather computers already had petadits of data about local weather and could provide averages. This shield drone couldn’t have known how the robot would fire or how fast the gun was, though.

  The robot watched Steo as he thought.

  Steo looked at the shield drone and back to the robot. “Renosha, how did it do that? The shield moves slower than the projectiles. It had to act before it knew where the beads were going to hit. That’s impossible. Wer
e you controlling it?”

  “No,” Renosha said.

  “Then how did it do that? By science almighty, what I just saw shouldn’t be possible.”

  “The Valence processor inside this shield drone is different than the ones you’re used to. The robots and computers you use are powerful analytical tools. Number crunchers. This one is nested.”

  Steo said, “Nested? Do you mean crowded? I’ve heard of that theory. That’s when smaller processors are built inside another processor.”

  “Correct.”

  “But that technology failed,” Steo said.

  “Did it just fail you, boy?”

  Steo was at a loss for words.

  “Long ago, people stopped caring about symbols. They wanted analysis. Processing power. Events per nanosecond. This drone holds a nested symbolic Valence processor. It’s technically much slower than anything you probably use today, but the superprocessor – the one holding the other processors – is symbolic. It doesn’t wait for data. It extrapolates and takes action on those inferences. It narrows the possibilities until it hits an acceptable threshold allowing it to provide results.”

  “How?” Steo asked, perplexed.

  “The superprocessor trusts the smaller child-processors. It gets multiple answers to a question and evaluates them for the best answer. The children learn to satisfy the parent by providing correct results. Your shield drone will be better at defending you from hypersonic projectiles now.”

  There was something disturbing about Renosha. Robots weren’t supposed to be able to hurt people. Previous civilizations had used robots for war and eventually outlawed the practice. That was the rumor about this lost city, that it had fallen to metal gods. Steo knew some solar systems concealed a few war robots, but that was dangerous too. If discovered, neighboring systems would hire knight-mercenaries to destroy such facilities. Steo wondered if Renosha was from a civilization that armed robots. Was that what destroyed this city? Was this the monster that rumors said shot visitors with lasers?

  “Robots can’t hurt people,” Renosha said.

  “But you just tried,” Steo replied.

  “It was nearly impossible for you to be injured.”

  “Nearly. That’s a calculated risk.”

  “All robots calculate. All robots have risk limits,” Renosha said.

  “What’s your risk limit, Renosha?” Steo asked, more relaxed now.

  The robot didn’t answer. Renosha stood a few feet from Steo. In his hands he held several gadgets. All robots calculated, all the time, but this one seemed to be measuring him. “Please take these,” the robot told Steo, as he held out his metal hand.

  “Okay. What’s that silver cylinder?” He reached out to take it. His hand passed through empty space.

  Steo was confused.

  “Your reflexes are slow,” Renosha stood in front of him with a passive expression.

  Steo tried to grab the gadgets, and missed again. Renosha hadn’t flinched but his metal hand wasn’t where Steo had last seen it. It was about a foot to the right.

  “You may have these if you can take them from me.”

  Steo made eye contact with Renosha this time and tried to grab the gadgets. As Steo’s hand moved, Renosha disappeared. Steo stared at the empty bay. He spun and saw Renosha standing behind him, hand outstretched.

  “Renosha, stand still. I command you to stand still,” Steo said in a stern voice.

  “I am standing still. Yet you fail to take these from me.”

  Steo had never failed a test in his life. It was a secret source of pride, he excelled at solving problems. He grabbed for the gadgets, watching the results. His hand passed through; there was nothing there. The robot and gadgets were gone. He spun around, trying again and again to seize them, or work out what was happening.

  Teleporting was impossible. The only way to convert matter to energy was with graviton and tachyon engines. Steo couldn’t decipher how it was happening.

  “How are you doing this?” he said to Renosha.

  “I am doing nothing. I am standing with the devices in my hand. You need only take them. If you try again, perhaps you will get a different result.”

  Steo did it again, half-heartedly this time, but the result was absolute darkness. He froze. Light was gone. He couldn’t see anything. He touched his face and didn’t feel anything covering his eyes.

  “I’m blind!”

  “You are not blind,” Renosha said.

  “Well I can’t see!”

  “You can see. What you see is nothing.”

  Steo reached out and fumbled, not contacting anything.

  “What? Where are you?” Steo sweated.

  “Here, boy,” Renosha’s voice came from ahead.

  Steo walked toward the voice, caught a stone block at the knee, and fell hard. His elbow struck the concrete floor. “Agh!” He rolled on the ground, holding his arm. Pain shot up his shoulder.

  “You aren’t able to hurt me!” Steo yelled.

  “I didn’t hurt you. The ground did,” Renosha said.

  Slowly the sharp pain in his arm diminished to a throb. It was going to hurt for days, maybe weeks. Steo rolled over and got to his knees.

  “Renosha,” he said angrily. “I command you to stop this blindness.”

  “Unfortunately,” Renosha replied, “You are not my master. I serve the Mission. I am the Keeper of the Mission. My Mission is guided by the Oath.”

  “So I’m blind forever?!” Steo said nervously.

  “You are not blind at all.”

  Steo could hear Renosha’s voice close to where he kneeled. He focused on solving the problem, not letting fear overtake him.

  “What is your mission, Steorathan? What oaths have you taken?” the robot asked.

  “I …” he started. “I try to fix things. I try to balance the scales between the powerful and the powerless.”

  “Are you an instigator of war, or a destroyer of peace?”

  “No. Neither. Where people are defenseless, I help them protect themselves.” Trick questions were no challenge for him.

  “In your galaxy, for the low to feel high, must all high be brought low?” posed Renosha.

  “I help the low and high see eye-to-eye,” Steo defended.

  “Your methods conform to the law?” Renosha asked sharply.

  “Not usually,” Steo said honestly. “People like secrets, mainly their own.”

  “Is there no privacy then?”

  “Where there’s doubt about whether one side is being treated fairly, I think honesty and transparency are the first steps of progress.” Steo’s confidence grew. He was proud of his ideals. His heartbeat slowed and his voice steadied.

  “What if even a man’s thoughts aren’t his own?” the robot asked dubiously.

  “In matters of justice, information must be free.” Steo declared.

  “Justice can be a harsh mistress. Is justice the only end?”

  Now Steo was calm. He was in the position of defending his beliefs. “Justice, peace, rights, self-determination. Neighbors that cooperate instead of fight create a safe place for growth and learning. Those are valuable things. At least that’s how I feel.”

  “Should personal struggle for growth be smothered in favor of the group?”

  “What are we talking about? There’s a whole galaxy out there to struggle against. Life shouldn’t be about what you can take from others. Institutions grow so big they crush individual will. People need opportunity. Only when power becomes overwhelming, when people have no chance against it, do I feel like I have to get involved.”

  There was a long pause. Renosha said solemnly, “Your description of the galaxy shouldn’t surprise me, but it saddens me. This much hasn’t changed. When man ascended to the stars, he came no closer to god.”

  Renosha sounded disappointed by Steo’s answers. “Perhaps you should leave my temple. For now I will consider your tshhhhhht. I will keep these devices. Please leave now.”

  Steo wa
s able to see the room again. He squinted and blinked. It was as if one moment he stared at blackness and the next he looked at the metal and stone temple. The robot was nowhere to be seen, even though Steo had heard his voice nearby a second before.

  He groaned as he stood, then limped out to the steps. Looking around, he didn’t see anything but the empty city. He limped to his glider. “Goodbye,” he said.

  When he got to the bottom, he thought maybe this was the first test he had failed. He’d done his best, but puzzled over the incident.

  Renosha stood at the top of the steps. His timeworn home, a bleak wasteland, stretched out before him. He turned around to the temple and quietly said, “Goodbye.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Trial

  “One day!” Yuina yelled.

  The crew sat in the dining room aboard the Eye of Orion: Yuina, Governor, Hawking, Glaikis and Tully.

  “He’s been gone more than one day, hasn’t he Hawking?” Yuina asked the science robot.

  “1.35 days, Pilot Yuina,” Hawking replied.

  “What do we do?” she said in a demanding tone.

  Glaikis said, “The only lightning cascades have been far away from where Steo went. I’ve watched the weather sensors.” She looked troubled though. “I haven’t served with Steo before, so I’m not sure.”

  Tully put down his cup. “I have. This isn’t unusual. He takes off on these little covert missions and reappears a few days later. Governor, did he say anything more to you?”

  “No sir, he did not,” the jeeves robot politely replied. “This is as you say sir, not unusual for my master. His perception of time is faulty, I’m afraid.”

  “So what do we do, just hang out here in orbit?” Yuina asked. “I get paid the same either way, but I’m itching for more flight time and that reward.”

  Glaikis didn’t like the situation, but didn’t give voice to her concerns. No one was in danger as far as she could tell. Plus, new crews had to establish a pecking order. She was an officer in the ranks of knight-mercenaries, but not a command officer. Crewmembers assigned to her were professionals, capable of efficiently conducting their work. She wasn’t the type to take charge, but she could tell Yuina shouldn’t be put in charge and Tully would always be an engineer.

 

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