by David Ryker
Its eyes watched vacant and dark from behind the red garb.
On the other side, the third was tall and lithe. Its exposed sinews were braided black fibers that twisted and bunched like humanoid muscles. Its bones were polished steel — thin bands that arched over its torso like ribs and structured its face, a hard frame over the musculature beneath. Black pads of pseudo-flesh made up its cheeks and forehead, forming half a face. Orange eyes danced behind the formed but inhuman countenance. It was clothed in a floor-length cloak draped around its shoulders. Its fists were closed and it stared balefully at us. I wasn’t sure if it was trying to look menacing, or if it was a permanent expression. Either way, it was definitely the muscle in this situation. It wasn’t carrying any weapons, but it didn’t look like it needed to.
The one in the green cloak stepped forward, his hands clasped loosely in front of him. His eyes pulsed slowly as he surveyed us. “Well?” he said, his voice emanating low and flat from behind the mask.
Alice stepped forward, her hair slicked to her head in the rain. She held her hand out, the cylinder in it.
Green Cloak raised his chin and looked at it. The one in the black stiffened a little and stepped forward, within striking distance.
“Here it is,” Alice said quickly, shaking it. “Proof.”
Green Cloak cocked his head a little. “You bring us the butchered brain of one of our brothers or sisters as proof?”
“We didn’t do this.” She kept holding it out, the rain running off the wires and streaming onto the ground. I could see the domed lens facing me, a sticker under it that was now smudged and running, but still legible. It read: Greg.
“No?” Green Cloak said. He didn’t believe it.
“No,” she said flatly. “We saved him.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s important,” she pleaded, turning to me, “to him.”
Green Cloak looked at me for a second. “The dying one…” He wasn’t hurrying, despite everyone’s rush. He chuckled a little. “And how exactly is this proof? You think saving one life earns another? And what of the millions you needlessly and continually slaughter without a second thought—”
“This one is special!” Alice gestured with Greg’s core.
“Oh?” Green Cloak put his hands on his hips. “Do tell.” He had absolutely no intention of scooping me up, or going at any pace that wasn’t his.
“This AI—” She cut herself off, not sure if calling it an ‘AI’ was an insult of some kind. She pressed on regardless. “And him,” she said, turning to me, “have some sort of… bond. He keeps risking his life to save…” She stalled, gritting her teeth. “Greg.”
It was the first time she’d ever said his name, or even acknowledged that he wasn’t more than software.
“Take him,” she said quietly this time, her voice almost lost in the roar of the storm. “Talk to him. View his memories, or—”
“We don’t do that,” Green Cloak snapped. “That would be a violation of his rights, and that you would even think that doing such a thing would not be totally offensive to us—”
I pushed forward with the last of my strength. “She didn’t mean it!” I threw my hands up and sprawled onto my knees. I beckoned to Alice to hand me Greg and she did. “You saved him,” I muttered, staring down at the cylinder in my hands. I thought I’d lost him in the crash — it was still beyond imagination that I was holding him now. The thought of him rotting in the desert had been carving me up inside.
Green Cloak stepped forward and looked down his nose at me. “You truly care for this mind?”
I swallowed but didn’t bother to look up. I just held on to Greg.
“Give him to me,” Green Cloak commanded.
I curled him into my chest.
Green Cloak leaned down and took Greg from me, pulling him from my grasp with a steel hand. Greg’s sleek exterior slipped from my fingers and Green Cloak held him aloft. “We will see.” He motioned to the two humanoid droids behind the trio to move forward with the stretcher.
They lifted me on with ease but not roughly, and laid me on the stretcher. The rain hurt my eyes.
Green Cloak pushed Greg under his arm and held him out of the rain before turning to the others. “If this proves to be some sort of hoax, or there is any shadow of untruth in your words…” He turned to me and laid a heavy hand on my chest. I could barely breathe. “The boy will die.” He released the pressure and swept his hand across the others. “And then you will, too.” He lifted his arm and made a circular motion with his hand. “You’re all grounded, and will be taken into custody until we have made a decision. You’re trespassing, and you entered our airspace without clearance. You’re being placed under arrest.”
I tried to sit up, to say something, but I felt a warm rush in my neck and my head felt heavy. I sank back onto the stretcher and saw a needle flashing in my peripherals.
The protests of the guys as they were grabbed and restrained by unrelenting iron hands died in the night as my heart slowed and pounded heavily in my ears. I stared into the sky, no longer feeling the raindrops on my eyeballs.
And then the darkness swallowed me whole.
My eyes opened to the pale light of morning.
The sun was streaming in through the blinds, the rays falling on the wide green fronds of a plant I didn’t recognize. It stood in the corner, its long stems extending into the air before curling over, its troughed leaves turning gently towards the sun.
“Sobrus Ezzizzos.” The same droid who was wearing the green cloak was standing at the window, staring out over the city. It looked like we were high up in the tower.
“Excuse me?” I said, my throat raw. I rubbed it and felt it swollen under my fingers.
“Sobrus Ezzizzos — or at least that’s the rough approximation of a phonetic translation. At least for the scientific name. Your kind calls them Zizos.” He had his hands behind his back, his cloak gone. Instead, he had a rich green cowl bunched around his neck and cast over his shoulder, a large gold pendant pinning it in place above his left breast. The tail hung down his back, the end adorned with tassels embroidered with gold.
“I’m sorry?” I pushed myself up in the white-sheeted bed. My head was fuzzy.
He lifted a hand and gestured softly toward the plant, but didn’t turn to face me. “Quite the aroma, isn’t it?” He drew a long breath — though I didn’t know why. Without lungs, it seemed pointless. “But beyond the scent, the Zizos plant is a wonderful oxygenator. It holds a very important place in our fragile ecosystem.” He was at my bedside in a second, moving lightly and unnervingly fast for an android of his size. He loomed over me, staring down intently; surveying me, measuring me.
I smiled awkwardly.
He went on, his mask-like face, canvas over motors, shifted to make a semblance of expression displaying something close to curiosity. “Life can be so fragile. It cannot be controlled, only preserved, guided. Humans, other… intelligent species. You are so frivolous. Impetuous. Insufferable. Destructive. And above all else, selfish. You infect and poison every place you enter. And you do this because you believe everything to be yours. That you can go, and take what doesn’t belong to you, without a care in the world.” He sighed and stood up straight. “Aelock is a place that very, very few biologs have visited, and even fewer have left. That you are awake now — that you are even alive, is nigh-on unprecedented.” He seemed almost amused by the fact. “But — it wasn’t for a lack of trying on your part.”
“Sorry?”
“Are you polite, or stupid?” He went back to the window, but didn’t wait for an answer. “You infected yourself with a particularly nasty strain of bacteria. But what do you expect, drinking dirty puddle water on an alien world?” He cast me what could have been a scornful look if his face was able to muster it. “But we were able to deal with it. It was several hours after ingestion, so it had worked its way into your organs, your deep tissues, your brain. However, we were able to eradicate it, eventua
lly.” He chuckled under his breath.
I was still rubbing my neck. “What’s… Where… How?”
“If you need something for the pain, we can administer an analgesic. Intubation can be painful for humans. This isn’t uncommon.” He came back to the bedside and looked down at me, eyes twitching.
“No, I’m — it’s okay. Intubation?”
“A tube was inserted into your esophagus to help you breathe while you were unconscious.”
“I know what—” I cut myself off. Glibness wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I cleared my throat instead and swallowed with difficulty. “How long was I out?”
He smiled. “Ah, you humans and your colloquialisms. Approximately eighty-three hours. Or, three and a half days, if division isn’t a strength of yours.”
“Three and a half days?” I was hoarse. “And my friends, are they—”
“They are fine. It’s not them that I’d like to discuss, however. It’s you — and more interestingly, your companion, Greg.” He walked over to the plant and held one of its leaves between his large shining fingers, massaging it gently.
“You want to talk about… Greg?”
He looked up. “Are you experiencing neurological issues, hearing impairment — difficulty in understanding what I’m saying?”
“No.”
“Then why do you repeat my sentiments back to me in the interrogative form?” It wasn’t snide.
“I’m sorry — I’m just a little confused here, I need a minute to get up to speed. Who are you?”
He clasped his hands behind his back, standing at the foot of the bed. “I am Glaavus, one of the representatives of Aelock. I preside over this city as Agent Supreme, on behalf of the Grand Council. This is my city, and you are under my care, James Maddox. You came to us in a moment of need, and you were — and are the first human in our history, I might add — to be offered aid by us. We try to stay out of the petty affairs of humans. You are so careless and easily dispensed with, and generally ungrateful, and as such we find it much easier to allow your kind to kill each other and yourselves, and stay out of matters entirely. Especially considering how your kind views ours. However, we are not unreasonable, and when a case is pleaded so articulately and with so much honesty and unbridled affection, we find it hard to ignore.”
“And who pleaded my case?”
“I thought we already…” He looked at me for a second, and then smiled. “Your companion — Greg. He asked me to save your life, and I obliged. I’ve never heard a mind speak so highly of a human before; at least not of their moral character.” He nodded as though to say you’re welcome, though it felt more like an insult than anything else. “You have made history here for Aelock-human relations, though please don’t make a habit of it or tell anyone. We don’t want Aelock overrun by humans thinking they can come and go as they please. And we’d rather avoid any more bloodshed. Killing humans is a messy business — you’re so full of blood, and it just gets everywhere.” I couldn’t tell if he was joking, but I didn’t think so.
I let that notion die in the air and looked around the stark white recovery room. It was square and overlooked the city, but wasn’t clinical or robotic — at least no more so than the Regent Falmouth was. The floor was a cool, polished stone tile and in the corner next to the window was the plant. It nearly touched the ceiling, and Glaavus was right, it did smell good. Though the thing that stuck out was the artwork on the wall. Set on a white canvas, it was a coalescence of reds and blues and purples that splattered and moved gracefully, forming the face of a species not unlike a human — a woman, beautiful and chiseled, eyes closed, facing the sun.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Glaavus said, following my eyes.
“Who is the artist?”
“Davina Meh-Lahny.”
I swallowed, watching as he looked at me, waiting for me to ask. “Is she… an, uh…”
“Yes?”
“Like you?” I took a breath. This was going to get on my nerves unless I nipped it in the bud. “I’m sorry — what do you like to be called? Androids, or?”
He smiled, his cavas face twisting, the gears in his cheeks whining quietly. “You should get dressed. Your cohorts are waiting, and from what they tell me, time is a factor. Make sure not to leave anything behind, you won’t be returning. Rhona will escort you to them. She’ll be along to check on you shortly.” He nodded politely to me and then walked out of the room.
I kept staring at the painting. He never answered my question — either of them — but I guessed that it was, and that android wasn’t offensive. He didn’t kill me for it, which was positive, especially considering how little affection for humans he held. Though it might have just been the blood thing. There was a lot of white in my room.
As I sat up and reached for a glass of water on the bedside, seeing a neatly folded pile of clothes on a table in the corner — not mine, but for me — I couldn’t help but wonder a few things. I couldn’t help but wonder a lot of things, in fact. I had questions on questions, but I guessed they’d all be answered in due time. Or at least that’s what I hoped.
8
They weren’t my boots, but they fit.
I laced them up and turned to face a knock at the door. Standing there was a woman. She was petite but athletically built, her olive skin smooth like porcelain, her dark hair pulled smoothly back into a knot at the nape of her neck. She smiled gently at me, dressed in a white all-in-one suit with a high collar. A pendant with a blue stone in it hung around her neck, the only thing of color on her otherwise monochrome outfit. It matched her eyes.
“You’re human,” I blurted out, surprised.
Her smile widened. “What makes you say that?” She clasped her hands at the small of her back and tilted her head slightly.
“I just—”
“Looks can be deceiving, Mr. Maddox, and you’d do well here not to make assumptions based on appearance.” Her voice was smooth, but not warm.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” I said, moving around the bed. The clothes they’d given me weren’t mine either, and pulled around my arms and thighs as I moved. They weren’t built for fighting; that was certain. A plain white button-down shirt, black trousers and a navy jacket that hung to the mid-thigh.
“You didn’t.”
“It’s just that—”
“I look human. Yes. I know. That was the intention with my design, to allow me to blend in better with my hosts.”
“You were a house-droid?”
“Advanced covert reconnaissance, but close.” Her mouth twitched and her smile faded.
“I’m sorry — I thought… You know what, never mind. Sorry.” I gritted my teeth.
She laughed a little. “Noted. Now come on. Glaavus won’t be happy to be kept waiting.” She motioned for me to follow her and we stepped into the corridor. It was a hospital ward, for all intents and purposes.
“Can I ask a question?” I said, jogging to catch up. The ward was gleaming, but utterly empty except for me. I didn’t know why the hell a planet of androids would need a hospital at all. A workshop, maybe?
“Of course.” She pressed the call button for the elevator and the cables started reeling beyond the polished steel doors. “We have nothing to hide.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” She looked sideways at me. I think she was just doing it to mess with me. I had to give her credit for the sense of humor.
I smiled politely and cleared my throat. It was still sore. “Why does Aelock need a human hospital — I mean, there’s no one to treat, surely?”
We stepped in and she pressed the button for the ground floor. The doors hummed closed and we started descending quickly. She sighed and looked up at the readout over the door. The numbers dwindled sickeningly fast. “Aelock may not be home to any biologs, but we are not oblivious, nor unsympathetic to their plight.”
“Our plight?”
“Mortality, Mr. Maddox.”
“Call me
Red.”
“Alright.” She nodded at me minutely. “We do not appreciate visitors, but we are fully aware of the unrest in the universe, and the injustice that is being done. Should there be an absolute need, an unignorable evil being perpetrated, we have the facilities to offer aid, should the fighting come near. Though, we chose this planet for the very purpose that nothing is very near, so that has not happened yet — and it likely never will. But still, we have the facilities should they be needed.”
“To treat war refugees — the sick, the wounded?”
“Among others, I suppose. Though, despite it being a trivial affair, it’s avoided at all costs. Very few ships ever land here, and even fewer leave.”
I smirked. “Glaavus said.”
She shrugged. “And anyway, it’s not as though it’s a difficult task, treating humanoids. Your physiognomy is very rarely complicated. We are the wardens of this planet and manage many other mammalian and reptilian species. Biologically, you’re virtually no different from a zombard, a bangoon, or even a dog.” She chuckled to herself. “You share nearly fifty percent of your DNA with some types of fruit. For us, considering what we do, it’s a trifle putting your kind back together.”
“Uh… Thanks?”
“Don’t mention it.”
I pulled my lips into a wide line. All the other questions I had were gone from my mind. Rhona was shorter than me, and despite knowing that under her milky skin she was all circuits and titanium exoskeleton, it was still difficult to make that stick in my mind. She was so idiosyncratic. Distinctly human in every way. But, something she said stuck in my mind.
“Rhona?” I said, the numbers over the door plunging into double digits.
“Yes, Red?”
“You said ‘considering what we do’ — what did you mean by that? What do you do?”
She smiled at me. “You’ll find out, soon enough. How is your shoulder and your hand?”