Steel Guardian

by Cameron Coral

  The infant’s eyelids fluttered open, and she gazed up to find Block’s face before shutting her eyes again.

  “Here,” Nova said, filling a thermos. “We can take it with us. Keep applying the water to her head. It will help keep the fever down.”

  They kept going. Block dutifully dribbled water onto the baby every five minutes. Soon, the trees grew sparse and he knew they were leaving the preserve. The river had dried up, reduced to a trickle.

  “We’re getting close,” Nova said. She veered to the left, off the path.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “We need to avoid the road. The robot could be waiting there.”

  “But how will we get to the town?”

  “We mirror the road far enough that they can’t see us, but close enough so we don’t get lost.”

  After reaching a small hill, they paused on its crest. Down a sloping ravine stretched a massive, untended cornfield. Rotting stalks of corn lay in messy rows like ghoulish brown scarecrows.

  “We have to walk through that?” he asked. Wild vines had sprouted among the deteriorating corn, hiding the ground beneath.

  “What other choice do we have?” She glared at him. “Do you want to be captured?”

  Across the field, they could see the outline of the small town of Plattsmouth. Buildings lined a road in the distance. Nova studied it through her binoculars. “I see the gates. There’s a tank barricading the road and guards are posted.”

  “Armed, I assume.”

  She winced. “This is the closest we’ve been to getting help. Soldiers will have medicine.”

  “But what will they do with her?” Block asked, patting the girl sleeping against his chest.

  “They’ll help her—a doctor or medic will be there. You wanted me to help you find a doctor. This is the only way I know how.”

  He said nothing.

  Nova paced the small crest. “What else do you propose? It didn’t look like your robot friends had any medicine. Just the opposite. Where do you think they were going to take her? You think they’d let you get out of this in one piece?”

  “I don’t know what to think,” he said softly.

  “Right.” She thrust her hands onto her hips. “I forgot I was talking to a CleanerBot. Of all the robots in the world for me to get stuck with, I get the one who mops floors and takes out the trash.”

  “Cleaning is important.”

  “Yeah. Cleaning is really important when everyone is out trying to kill each other. In case you haven’t noticed, things aren’t the same anymore. People will do anything to survive.” Her voice grew raspy. “It will never be the same again.”

  “What about New Denver? It’s peaceful there.”

  She crossed her arms and looked away. “We’re wasting time while the baby gets sicker. Give her to me. I’ll take her across, tell them she’s my child and that she’s sick. Those people will help me.”

  Would they? And would Nova tell them about Mach X?

  She wasn’t worthy, had refused to answer his final question. He gazed down at the child.

  “What are you waiting for?” Nova demanded. “This is what you wanted—to give the baby to someone else.”

  Was it money that drove Nova? Did she want to claim the reward from Mach X herself? What if she handed the baby over to Cybel Venatrix instead? Block would be powerless to stop her.

  She picked up her rifle, and that’s when Block made his decision.

  “I won’t part with the baby,” he said.

  Nova frowned, pointing the rifle at the ground. “What the hell are you talking about? Did you not understand my plan?”

  “The girl is my responsibility. I must take her to New Denver. How will you properly care for her? She likes when I feed her, when I carry her. She and I have grown… accustomed to one another.”

  She scowled and wiped her brow. “So, what do you propose? You can’t be the one to get her a doctor.”

  “You approach the checkpoint on your own. Tell them she’s sick and find a doctor, but then you bring her back here and we travel the rest of the way to New Denver together.”

  “What if the soldiers at the border don’t let me come back out?” she asked.

  “You must convince them. Think of some excuse.”

  She folded her arms as she considered. “I thought the whole point was to give the baby to humans who can take care of her. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

  “I… don’t know what I want anymore,” he admitted. “I’m concerned for the welfare of the child.”

  “Holy robot hell, this is beyond strange.”

  “You want your money, don’t you?”

  Her pupils dilated—a minute reflex that his sharp robot senses could detect. The money still motivated her.

  “The only way to get your payout is to deliver me and the child—a healthy child—to New Denver.”

  “I ought to shoot you,” she muttered after a minute.

  This was exactly why he didn’t trust her to get the baby to New Denver alone. She was dangerous and reckless. The opposite of worthy.

  Her hands fluttered across the base of the rifle before she propped it against a tree. “Wait for us, then. I’ll return with her as soon as I can. It could take a while once I find a doctor or medic.”

  “Be back by tomorrow morning or no payment.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “But what if they need to keep her—”

  “Figure out a way to return.”

  She slid on the carrier, filled her bag with spare diapers, water, and food, then jogged down the ravine and sprinted into the dead cornfield with the girl.

  32

  Block watched Nova sprint through the decaying, maze-like cornfields. A part of him had wanted to keep the girl with him. Keep her safe and sheltered, but she was ill and needed a human doctor. It was the right thing to do.

  But would Nova return as promised?

  She wanted the money—that he was sure of. Yet, a lot could go wrong—547,987 things, to be exact. Cybel must be close. How far, he couldn’t say, but she would be waiting like a hawk lurking over a mouse hole.

  He lost sight of Nova. At least the rows of cornstalks shielded her from the road. The field ended one hundred feet from the road leading to the guard shack, but he doubted Cybel would risk getting that close to the humans. Nova and the baby would be safe as long as the humans received them and didn’t shoot.

  Would they recognize Nova as friendly? She carried the rifle on her back. For someone who claimed not to be a soldier, she handled the weapon with familiarity.

  Please let Nova bring the baby back.

  Had he made the right choice, or had he lost the girl forever? Letting Nova take her meant that a doctor would rehydrate her and give her medicine.

  Scanning the massive field, he zoomed in on the guard entrance. Nova approached slowly, hands raised, the baby exposed in the carrier. The men clutched their weapons as they addressed her. But, after a few seconds, they relaxed and let her pass. She was on her own among the human soldiers now. What lie had she told them about the baby?

  Or would she tell them the truth—that Mach X hunted a stubborn robot who refused to part with a human child? The men would come in force. With Nova’s help, they would hunt Block down in the forest. There’d be nowhere to hide.

  Upon calculating scenarios, he determined there was a 65.2 percent chance that Nova would bring soldiers. He recalled the things she had said, searching his memory cloud. Everyone is out to kill everyone. People will do what it takes to survive.

  Did she believe those things?

  She’d also said she was a robot killer. Had admitted it to him. Why hadn’t he realized earlier how dangerous she was? He never should have let her around the baby. Never let her travel with them this far. Now she had led them straight to the Nebraskan border—the state that executed robots. But there had also been times when she seemed kind. In her own way. Always annoyed at him, yes, but she’d been concerned that the
baby was too hot. She’d reminded him to clean the baby’s bottom and dripped water on her head. Things only a human would think about.

  If she truly didn’t care for the child, why would she have done those things?

  Block was confused. Everything was so complicated. He wished Mr. Wallace could guide him on what to do.

  Life had been perfect before the Uprising. Every day, he’d cleaned the hotel, visited his stations, completed his tasks, and then spent time with Mr. Wallace watching movies or just chatting. Now he lived in a war zone with no home and nothing to clean other than a sick baby.

  What was the point of going on? Maybe he should find the road and give himself up to Cybel. He paced and worried for two hours. How long did it take to find a doctor?

  He’d given Nova until morning to complete her mission. But now he regretted it—the longer he waited, the more his calculations indicated that she would bring soldiers with her. And the longer he waited, the more likely he would be captured.

  She had said terrible things. Acted badly when other humans were around. In mere seconds, she had turned on Block—betrayed him like it was no big deal. She had eventually helped him escape, but she must have been doing it for the reward money. What other explanation could there be? Why would a woman choose to accompany a robot and a sick baby instead of other humans, especially when humans and AI were at war?

  Another hour passed. Now he was 87 percent sure her motives were dangerous. She was inside the military guard post, alerting the highest general. Based on her intel, the humans were gearing up to launch an assault.

  He grabbed his bag, ready to flee. He retreated into the forest, glancing back at the field once—no sign of Nova.

  She was not a worthy human. She was dangerous.

  Rumbling sounded in the distance. A convoy of trucks emerged from the guard post and sped down the road toward the forest.

  Block ran into the shelter of the trees.

  33

  Military trucks rumbled in the distance. Nova had betrayed him—alerted the humans to his location. Block knew she’d been lying. He should always have trusted his calculations.

  Always.

  He strode southwest across the river to travel away from the convoy. He’d have to backtrack the entire length of the preserve and head south to bypass the Nebraskan border.

  Someone shouted in the distance behind him. Had the soldiers reached him so quickly? He quickened his pace.

  “Wait!” A feminine voice. Familiar.

  He swiveled his head as Nova raced toward him on foot, the child strapped into the carrier across her chest; she carried a brown insulated bag. “Why are you running? Stop!”

  He wasn’t falling for her tricks. He would stop and a dozen soldiers would attack. Something struck his shoulder, clattering against his chrome outer layer. Bullets?

  “Wait!” she cried.

  Finally, he stopped. He couldn’t outrun her and the militants, not when she was shooting.

  She skidded to a stop, panting as the child cried. “Why the hell are you running from me? I had to throw a rock at you. Here’s your damn medicine!” She flung the bag at his feet.

  “Where are they?” he asked, scanning the shade of the trees.

  “Who?”

  “The soldiers you brought to capture me.”

  “What the…? I didn’t send…. Is that why you’re running? You thought I ratted you out? Jesus, I should’ve known.”

  He waited for soldiers to leap out.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Open the bag, will you?”

  Block regarded her, anticipating a hand signal to summon the guards. But she didn’t flinch, so he picked up the bag as she glared at him. Inside, he glimpsed a box full of round, white tablets and several bottles of orange liquid.

  “Antibiotics and electrolytes to hydrate her,” she said. “The doctor checked her out, gave her fluids. She has an infection. They wanted to keep her overnight but I wouldn’t let them.”

  He stared. “What about the soldiers?”

  “It took me a while to convince them. I told them I had a camp with my husband with supplies he stayed behind to watch over. Said I’d left to try to find a doctor. Anyway, they believed it and gave me the meds.”

  “Why did they leave the outpost and travel down the road?”

  “You’re gonna love this,” she said, smirking. “I dropped a hint that there’s a robot and an armored vehicle patrolling the roads. They asked what the truck looked like. When I said it was black and orange, they knew what I was talking about. So, they asked where I last saw it and I mentioned the amusement park. They were in a hurry to go after it.”

  Block processed what she was saying. Had his calculations been off? Had she really done what she’d said she would—found a doctor, secured medicine, and led the soldiers away?

  “Why didn’t you turn us in?” he asked. “Tell the soldiers our location?”

  She started pulling off the carrier straps. “Because you’re going to pay me 20,000 when we get to New Denver. Remember? You’re not getting out of it that easy. I’ve come too far. I want that money.”

  Clearly, the money motivated her. He wondered how much Mach X was offering. Surely, it would dwarf the 20,000. Did she know?

  He was still suspicious, but the child now had medicine. He took the carrier from Nova and strapped it on, bouncing the baby. Her eyes widened as she gazed at Block’s faceplate and a tiny smile crossed her lips.

  “Hello,” Block said, then studied the box of pills, searching for instructions.

  Nova approached. “The doctor told me what to do. We need to cut the pill in half and crumble it into some water, then drip the water into the baby’s mouth. The doctor told me half a pill every four hours for three whole days. Then one pill a day for three more days.”

  Nova’s features contained no trace of the usual snark or grimaces she was so fond of using. “He said the medicine should begin to work by tonight.”

  There were no soldiers trailing them. Nobody had jumped out of the bushes. As far as Block could tell, they were alone.

  34

  They hiked four more hours, heading south after crossing the river, careful to follow the map and never straying over the border into Nebraska.

  Block found comfort in his routine. They stopped to medicate the baby at another river that provided welcome shade. The days were growing longer and warmer. The changing climate had turned much of the soil into a caky, crumbling mass.

  “How long has it been since it rained?” Nova asked.

  “Ninety-six hours, twenty minutes, and fifty-three seconds,” he replied.

  She rolled her eyes. “It was a rhetorical question. This place really could use water. Seems like the farther west we go, the dryer it gets.” She laid on the caked soil where they had decided to camp for the night and rested her head on her pack.

  Block tended to the baby. She was becoming more responsive, and the medicine was helping. He fed her a spoonful of liquid and she gulped it greedily. “Her appetite is returning.”

  Nova rolled over. “You’ve got to name her. It’s driving me crazy. She needs a nickname other than ‘baby.’”

  “What do you propose?” Though, Block wasn’t crazy about the idea of assigning the child an incorrect name.

  “What’s a name you like?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said.

  “Come on. Haven’t you ever thought about names you like and names you hate?” She rolled onto her back and twiddled her thumbs on her stomach. “Take, for instance, the name Gertrude. It’s terrible. Like, the worst name I’ve ever heard in my life.”

  Gertrude. Block had never heard the name before.

  “You must have one,” she said. “What name drives you crazy?”

  He searched his memory cloud for any peculiar names. “I don’t assign any kind of scale to names. They just exist. Why would I have an opinion on a name?”

  “Because,” she said, raising her knees and s
tretching out her legs. “There are certain names that just get under your skin. Just as there are certain people who drive you nuts.”

  “If you say so.” He lifted a spoonful of peach to the hungry baby’s mouth.

  But Nova persisted. “Look at her. What name pops into your head?”

  Block peered down at the child. Was this some kind of test? Her cheeks were rosy, no longer showing the ruddy blotches present when her fever was high. Tufts of dark brown hair covered her scalp. She didn’t resemble anyone he knew. He’d never seen anything like her before.

  “Does she look like someone to you?” Nova asked.

  “No.”

  “Who was somebody you liked before the Uprising?”

  “My manager, Mr. Wallace.”

  “Wallace…. Okay, that won’t work for a girl.”

  “What about Nova?”

  She peered at him strangely. “You can’t have two people with the same name. It’s too damn confusing.” She sighed. “You’re hopeless.”

  Block didn’t see what was wrong with calling her ‘baby’. Yet, if Nova insisted on naming her… she must be following a human convention he didn’t quite understand.

  “I’ll think more about the name,” he said.

  Nova peeled open a can of red kidney beans. “How about a fire, Tinman?”

  He scanned the sky. They were partially shielded by tall trees that lined the riverbank. No roads nearby. “Perhaps a small fire, but not for long.”

  She gathered wood and used her lighter to spark a flame. “It’s nice to have warm food,” she said later, munching on her beans. “I’d kill for some salt and pepper.”

  “You would kill?”

  “A figure of speech. Relax.”

  Block stood and paced the perimeter, scanning for threats. They weren’t out of danger yet. Cybel Venatrix could be stalking them or summoning more drones. He tilted his head and gazed up. She could have drones flying so high they wouldn’t see them. Was that how Cybel had discovered their location before? Next time they met, he didn’t think she would be so easily defeated.