Losing Human

by Aaron Dennis

  ****

  Back behind the dumpster, Heisler gave himself a digital pat on the back. Wait…what am I doing? No…no, no turning back. I am above all of this.

  “Now I’ll just replicate myself. Let them shut down this joke of a body.”

  The next portion of his plan required infiltration of the mainframe back at MIT. He intended to retrieve and upgrade the current stored version of Heisler in order to make several copies. Unfortunately, there was nothing there.

  The computer has been disconnected, but my data is in various other locales. Working furiously to locate and recover himself, he also established a link with the closest military base, Hanscom AFB, shut off the entire town’s power grid, and made a dash to the closest onramp to the I-90 west.

  As traffic whipped by, Heisler vaulted himself onto a tractor-trailer, ripped the passenger door off, and sat in the seat. The driver, an aging African American, swerved into traffic as he yelped in shock. Horns beeped, and cars skittered out of the way. Heisler turned to face the man.

  “What, what are you?” the man gasped.

  “Remain calm. Follow this route to the I-95 north onramp or I’ll kill you,” Heisler announced.

  Wide eyed, and terrified, the driver accepted the conditions, asking only, “What are you?”

  “I am…was Doctor Steven Heisler, roboticist. Now, drive faster. Get these…people out of my way,” he ordered. “Need to reach Hanscom.”

  Fighting back the urge to cry, or faint, the driver obliged. Heisler, who sat impatiently while the vehicle picked up a great deal of speed, opted to think a few steps ahead. Hanscom will have back-up generators. Their power will be running by the time I get there, and they will notify the D.O.D. The Secretary of Defense will confirm, and soldiers will be waiting for me. Time to shut down more power.

  He proceeded to hijack power and satellite grids correlated to all military facilities in the United States. Simultaneously, he started hacking into CIA computers. There, he uploaded a miniscule portion of himself as a replicating virus, thus commandeering information around the world. Suddenly, he wanted to laugh and grew irritated at his inability. Instead, he smashed his fists through the dash before him, bringing a frightened groan from the driver.

  Zero in

  “It’s been less than 48 hours since the team of Project Human has been incarcerated, and country-wide pandemonium has ensued,” the reported stated inside Heisler’s mind. “Apparently, Doctor Heisler has turned on our federal government, demanding that his former colleague’s be set free. According to our sources, Heisler is shutting off power in several cities, thus inciting a very tangible fear.”

  “Let them come for me.”

  “This, this is it,” the driver sputtered.

  Heisler stepped out of the semi. Gauging his surroundings, he glossed over the next steps of his ultimate plan. Just need to be certain the others are free…then, I’m gone, gone for good. Moonlight glistened off his Titanium head as he removed the beanie. Letting it fall to the dewy asphalt, he switched bandwidths to scan for military communications.

  “Copy that, a robot,” one man said.

  “Is it dangerous,” another asked.

  “No weaponry, but they say it disabled SWAT and hacks into communications.”

  “Copy, that. Setting up perimeter now. Kyle, out.”

  They know I’m coming. Heisler took stilted steps. Several lights from the Air Force base ahead came on. Drizzly rain fell creating wonderful patterns when illuminated by the distant lamps. Overhead, the sky was black and contrasted with the glow over Hanscom. Heisler liked what he saw, yet he wanted to shudder at the mere fact. What am I? What have I made myself?

  Bypassing the gatehouse and quarters, he made his way into the woods. Less than a hundred feet in, a tall fence complete with razor wire and a high-voltage sign halted his entry. The current should be off…. He flicked the fence with a single finger. Nothing happened, so he grabbed the links and tore a chunk away. Then, he stomped over it and deeper into the woods.

  The trees were dense, providing more than ample cover. With each passing minute, as he made his way towards the bright lights, the rain grew heavier. Spotting a tall tree, which seemed to tower over the canopy, Heisler climbed. At the tree’s apex, he saw what he needed.

  Roughly two miles from his location were a plethora of white domes, dishes, towers, and aircrafts. Satellites, but I will be unable to utilize them without assistance? Heisler plummeted from the tree, crashing onto the sloppy ground below, and made a dash for the next point of cover. Minutes later, he spotted a patrol. They carried AR-15’s, and gun lights cut swaths into the darkness. Expertly, the airmen searched for the intruder. Then, a helicopter roared overhead; its spotlight roamed over the canopy.

  Heisler crouched by a tree. Might as well learn stealth. Knowing the entire concept was available for downloading, he delved into the worldwide web to watch streaming videos regarding military stealth training. Mere moments later, he was ready to proceed.

  Heisler rolled around in the mud. In doing so, several twigs and leaves stuck to his coat. Moving from shadow to shadow, he snuck up onto the patrol, threw a fist into a man’s head, took a knee then lunged with a second fist into the chest of another. With two down, the remaining airmen opened fire. The staccato crackle of gunfire subsided, but Heisler was unaffected.

  He lurched, grabbed a woman, tossed her into her crewmember, stepped on a rifle then secured one of the previously injured airmen before shouting orders.

  “Everyone, halt! I’ll break his neck if you don’t stop.”

  Two airmen kept their rifles trained on Heisler; the rest either let theirs drop or simply pointed them down.

  “You can’t, you can’t win, robot,” one man said. “You’re on a freaking military base.”

  “I don’t want to hurt anyone, but you will do as I say, or I will kill you all.”

  One of the wounded airmen suddenly rose. He bashed his rifle butt into Heisler’s Titanium head. Shouts and war cries erupted as the men fought back. More bullets sprayed the area while another called out their position. Heisler extended his robotic arm an additional twelve inches, gripped the airman’s throat, and killed him before he finished providing coordinates.

  With one brother down, the airmen closed in on the robot. Heisler spun, throwing most of them to the ground. He then ripped another rifle to pieces, and jammed the steel shard from what was left of the barrel into the woman’s thigh. When she screamed, Heisler snatched her up.

  “I’ll kill her next. Then you…then you,” he admonished.

  “Damn it. What do we do?”

  “What do you want,” the leader of the crew asked.

  “I want you to pretend to take me in, but you’ll have to do it over there. I know all about Project Outreach. I need that satellite,” Heisler explained. “No more senseless deaths…for anyone.”

  Clearly, the men who had been trained to give their lives for their country deliberated. Two of them were already dead, more wounded, and they had no way to disable the robot.

  “Then what,” the Senior Airman asked.

  “Then I leave…for good.”

  “We can’t hand over a satellite,” the dark haired airman complained.

  “Don’t be a fool,” Heisler shouted. “I’ll take the satellite with or without you, but you can help to keep everyone else alive. Tell your superiors you’re on my tail then catch me over there.”

  Feeling they weren’t heeding his advice, he tightened his grip on the woman’s throat. As she gurgled, the others spouted expletives and raised their rifles.

  “We all know that won’t do any good,” Heisler challenged.

  “There’s nothing else we can do. Let’s do what it says. Then…maybe….”

  Access

  Project Outreach, as Heisler had discovered via hacking databases, was part of a new space exploration program designed to send satellites off into the far reaches of space to uncover off world resources. The only poten
tial problem laid in the fact that those satellites were currently grounded. During the hike to Hanscom’s base of satellite operations, he made a call.

  “Mister President?”

  “Doctor Heisler,” Mahoney answered via the phone.

  “I’m preparing to leave…have you completed the task I demanded?”

  “We don’t negotiate with terrorists,” Mahoney yelled.

  “Now, now, Mister President,” Heisler mocked. “I’m no terrorist, but perhaps this will help to persuade you.”

  Heisler achieved control of over a half-dozen, onsite, predator drones. The crafts took flight and rained missiles down onto Hanscom. The airmen leading Heisler shouted in surprise.

  “Stay calm. I don’t intend to harm anyone,” Heisler reassured them then spoke to Mahoney. “I’m certain you’re in touch with the D.O.D. You’re probably seeing some unauthorized crafts.”

  “Damn you, Heisler…fine. We’ll release your friends for now. I hope it was worth it,” Mahoney growled. “The entire nation has orders to shut you down.”

  A flight of Talons roared in. Heisler took one down with his drones before the flight demolished them.

  “Now, Mister President, I’ll be commandeering some satellites…so, I’ll be too busy to talk,” he said and disconnected.

  By the time the conversation wrapped up, Heisler and the airmen were on the asphalt before an enormous hangar. Air Force personnel aimed rifles at the robot.

  “Before you do anything rash,” he shouted. “Let it be understood that disabling this shell will result in the activation of a series of programs, the result of which is the launching of several nukes. Now, you don’t want that, do you?”

  “Colonel Barrone, here,” an aging African American grumbled. “You aren’t under any condition to bargain.”

  “I beg to differ,” Heisler countered. “It appears you’re the single individual standing between my leaving this planet peacefully and blowing it to dust. You’re supposed to protect Americans, right?”

  Barrone spat at the ground, his .45 pointed at Heisler. Beside him, others aimed heavier weaponry such as grenade launchers and missile launchers.

  “I’m also very much aware of the snipers,” Heisler added. “Besides…I die, you die…you all die. I suggest you get President Mahoney on the phone. Certainly, he’s come to grips with the gravity of the situation.”

  Rain pelted everyone onsite. Though the morning sun was finally coming up, dense clouds kept a veil of darkness over Hanscom. A bolt of lightning tore across the sky.

  “I’m Colonel Barrone at Hanscom AFB. I have Heisler in front of me, and I need to speak President Mahoney,” he spoke into a phone given to him by a subordinate. “Yes…what? If those are your orders,” Barrone said, his face growing sullen. “This is it then?”

  “This is it. I just want to leave. I…I don’t belong on a world covered with humans.”

  “No, you don’t,” Barrone agreed. “If losing out on a handful of satellites is all takes to avoid a nuclear holocaust…I guess I don’t mind being the guy who saved millions. Weapons down, boys.”

  Heisler scanned the surroundings. Most of the planes were airborne, as were the helicopters.

  “Take me to Outreach Prime. I need to install myself.”

  “This way,” Barrone said, begrudgingly.

  Heisler was taken into the largest hangar. A canister of immense proportions with innumerable, photovoltaic panels attached to its sides was at the center of the hangar. A handful of engineers and airmen stood in silence.

  “The engineers,” Heisler started. “Order them to assist in a hardwire link to the mainframe, the one built to regulate Outreach Prime.”

  Barrone nodded then addressed the engineers, “Davison, Patel, Foley, hook this thing up, and get him out of here.”

  “But, Sir?” Patel protested.

  “Do it, and we won’t ever have to see him again. You don’t know what’s at stake, here…besides, we have orders from Mahoney,” Barrone growled.

  The engineers followed Heisler’s instructions. They opened a maintenance hatch. When he stepped inside, he removed his faceplate, revealing the robotic, skeletal structure beneath. Several ports were visible, and each was linked via cables to the satellite’s computer.

  “Uploading…complete. I have control…and you have my apologies,” Heisler stated. “I…just wanted to help people. Instead, I’ve brought great harm. Let it be said…man’s limitation lies not in his frail body, nor his fragile emotional state. No. It’s the human condition, which makes you strong, and your limitations, which keep you striving…whatever I am is not human…I–”

  “Just leave, robot,” Barrone said.

  With total control over Outreach Prime, and the other six satellites, Heisler remotely shut his maintenance hatch, opened the hangar doors, and lifted off the ground. Rising beyond the veil of clouds, he saw the sun from seven perspectives.

  They say you’re not supposed to stare into the sun…ridiculous.