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The Hero of Numbani

Page 13

by Nicky Drayden


  “This won’t hurt a bit,” she said to Orisa, then wiped the tears from her eyes.

  “Efi, biometrics indicate you are under high levels of stress.” She opened her arms wide, ready for an embrace. “Do you need a—”

  Efi pressed enter. The robot’s arms fell to her sides, but otherwise she looked fine. All remaining systems were fully functional.

  Deleting the compassion module hadn’t hurt the robot in the slightest, but it did hurt Efi.

  A lot.

  Efi’s eyes were red and puffy the next morning. She’d cried herself to sleep, but she felt confident in her decision. The project would continue as planned. She stumbled into the workshop, head still fuzzy, and sat down at her computer, eager to see how much her distributed computing app had earned her. Ten thousand naira. It was more than she expected, but not quite enough to make a dent. It was better than nothing, though, so she did a little dance and turned to invite Orisa to celebrate the smallest of victories, but then remembered that the robot’s dancing functions had been tied to her empathy module. Efi wondered in what other ways Orisa’s interactions would be affected, but she didn’t have long to dwell on it. Instead she rubbed her bleary eyes and stared at Orisa’s docking bay.

  It was empty.

  She blinked a couple of times, but it wasn’t her morning dreariness and lack of sleep messing with her brain. Orisa was gone.

  Efi started wailing. Her parents must have taken her in the night. They’d said it was Efi’s choice! Her decision, and she’d made it. They had no right!

  Efi stormed to her parents’ room and knocked on the door. “Where did you put my robot!”

  She banged for nearly a minute before her father opened the door. “Have you forgotten all your manners?” Father asked, eyes still narrowed from sleep. Or more likely, irritation. “What time is it?”

  “Where did you put Orisa?” Efi cried. “You’ve taken her, and it’s not fair!”

  “We didn’t do anything with your robot,” her father said sternly. “We said we trusted you to take care of it, but I am beginning to see that maybe that was a mistake.”

  “Could Auntie Yewande—”

  “Are you accusing your auntie of theft?”

  “No, Daddy, I just thought—”

  “I’m sure your robot wandered off. You’d better go find her before she causes more damage.”

  Orisa did have a habit of not listening. Efi nodded, hoping that her father was right. She’d ping Orisa’s locator beacon to see exactly where she’d gone. Efi rushed back to her workshop to load the location app, but the notifications on her screen were screeching at her like sky full of angry falcons.

  She clicked open the FacePunch app and looked at the live feeds. There was Doomfist, standing upon the roof of the Numbani Heritage Museum. One of the feeds came from an airborne drone, and it circled around him. If it weren’t for his massive gauntlet, which was now a matte-charcoal gray, Efi would have thought he was just an ordinary patron dressed to attend one of the museum’s fancy galas. He looked sleek in pinstriped pants and a daringly white jacket with a rose tucked in the lapel. The way he looked—the strength of a great warrior and the polish of a cunning leader—gave Efi a moment of pause. He could have so easily been Numbani’s protector, but he’d chosen the awful path of Talon.

  That false peace ended abruptly when Doomfist leaped from the roof, then drove his fist right into the cement in front of the museum. The grand staircase leading to the front doors buckled from the impact and the glass doors shattered. Doomfist and his lieutenants entered inside.

  The drone swooped down and tried to enter as well, but one of the lieutenants blasted it out of the air with his rocket launcher. The feed went black. There were other feeds, but nothing close enough to see what was going on inside.

  Efi’s heart pounded in her chest. The contents of the museum were irreplaceable: priceless historical artifacts, the Omnic art exhibit, and a walking tour of Overwatch’s presence in Numbani. Losing them would be a tremendous defeat for the city. Efi was so overcome with worry that she nearly forgot to check on Orisa’s whereabouts.

  She pulled up the location beacon and saw it moving at a clipping pace down Tiawo Boulevard. Efi shook her head when the blue dot took a sharp right onto Heritage Avenue … the street that led right to the museum. Efi shook her head. This couldn’t be happening. Her insides went cold, imagining what Doomfist would do to Orisa’s titanium, cutting through it like tissue paper as he had to the OR15s back at the airport. Orisa didn’t have nearly enough training or the Tobelstein reactor she needed to go up against such an overpowered enemy. She barely even had weapons.

  Efi issued a recall notice to her robot, demanding that she stop everything and get somewhere safe. The robot did not comply. A message appeared on Efi’s screen:

  Then the connection cut out, and the location beacon faded away. Efi kept typing, trying to get through again as tears pooled on her keyboard. Efi’s worry and fear turned to betrayal and anger. How could she have programmed such an unruly robot? One who didn’t listen and went sneaking out and getting into danger?

  She couldn’t track Orisa, but she did know where she was going. Efi grabbed her tablet and ran out of her workshop.

  “Well? Did you locate her?” her father called, brewing a pot of tea, still half-asleep. It was only a matter of time before he flipped on the morning news and saw the chaos at the museum. Then Efi would be kept on lockdown for sure, and Orisa would be all on her own.

  Efi bit her lip. She wouldn’t lie to her father, but she could omit the truth.

  “Yep!” she said, trying her hardest to sound her usual chipper self.

  “Ah, make sure you keep a better eye on her. Who knows what kind of trouble she’ll get into next.”

  “Yes, Father,” Efi said, and she closed the door behind her before he asked a question that would be too hard to dodge.

  Efi hadn’t even gotten a block away from the flat when she saw that traffic was gridlocked. Even the trams hung motionless in the sky. Traffic officers tried to maneuver through the streets on foot. A quick scan on her tablet confirmed that every driverless and omnic-operated vehicle in the area was disabled. It had to be part of Doomfist’s strike.

  But there was something still moving in the city. High up above, several delivery drones buzzed around, their nets plump with packages. Those nets happened to be large enough to hold an adventuresome almost-twelve-year-old girl if she balled up just right. Efi swallowed. She needed to get to Orisa fast, and this was the only way. If she could get within range of Orisa’s local transponder, then maybe she could stop this before anyone got hurt.

  Efi typed into her keyboard and poked around on Sky Postal’s website. She saw several empty delivery drones in her area, so she put in a request for a Lightning-Priority delivery with a drone equipped to carry a large package, some thirty-eight kilos in weight … right about her size. One of the delivery drones descended to her location. Efi winced, then crammed herself into the netting and held on for dear life. This seemed like a capital B, capital I: Bad Idea, but she’d wanted all her life to fly on a plane, right? This was practically just like that, minus the in-flight snacks, the free movies, the air traffic controllers, the seat belts …

  Numbani grew smaller as she rose higher, and her gut started to slip this way and that as the drone veered toward her destination. She landed at the side entrance to the museum’s botanical garden, then snuck inside, pressed through the displays of Numbani’s native plants. Her nose itched from the smell of a flowering yellow trumpet, and Efi held back a sneeze, careful not to be heard by the Talon agents lurking about. The walls were lined with masks and pottery and ceremonial swords, displayed carefully under glass and gentle lighting. Efi ducked under the velvet rope of a stanchion, meandering through the life-sized diorama of the signing of the Declaration of Unity that stood on an island in the middle of the room. She brushed past the wax figure of Gabrielle Adawe and chills ran through her. There were D
O NOT TOUCH THE DISPLAY signs posted all over the place, but Efi couldn’t help but run her fingers through Adawe’s signature floating above the document in holographic ink.

  Then footsteps echoed from the hall. Efi stood still, trying to blend in with the wax figures as a Talon agent cut through the room, gun pointed down, but at the ready. The Talon agent wore the signature red helmet. He was unmistakable. She gulped, and that sneeze she’d held back was suddenly screaming to escape. Efi clenched her eyes tightly and held on with everything she had. Finally, the urge passed, and so did the agent, leaving Efi with a clear shot to the main exhibit hall, where she could hear Doomfist and his lieutenants talking. She crept inside and hid behind a large brass planter, and just a few meters away, Doomfist stared at the holoprojection display of his gauntlet.

  “So many inaccuracies.” He laughed. “For an institution of learning, you’d think they’d make more of an effort to get the details right. It makes you wonder what else they’ve gotten wrong, eh? This place is nothing more than a carefully curated propaganda machine.” His face bunched up at the colossal banners hanging on the wall. “The Savior. The Scourge. The Successor. Ha! If they paid more attention to what was going on right under their noses, they’d know who was truly their Savior.”

  “You, boss,” said a voice that was all too familiar. Efi squinted through the heavy paint on the lieutenant’s face and gulped.

  “Bisi,” Efi whispered to herself. Dayo’s older brother. Her biggest cousin. She’d known he was hanging out with bad people, but she couldn’t imagine how he’d gotten wrapped up in Talon’s messes.

  Efi turned back when she heard clomping coming from behind her. There she was, Orisa standing firmly in the archway and taking up the bulk of it. She was so close that Efi could have reached out and touched her.

  “Orisa!” Efi whispered from her hiding spot. “Please, don’t go in there.” The robot turned, and it looked like there might be some recognition, some remnants of compassion behind those eyes, but then they became angry slits. Orisa shuffled her rear legs, then charged into the exhibit hall. Seconds later, a firefight erupted between her and Doomfist’s lieutenants.

  Efi swallowed. Sure, Orisa had her energy shields and was sturdy enough to survive a major assault, but her offensive capabilities were severely limited without the fusion driver and Tobelstein reactor. It would only be a matter of time before Doomfist wore Orisa down.

  For now, Orisa was holding her own against Doomfist’s lieutenants. She stood her ground as Doomfist raised his fist, the one that had skewered the OR15s at the airport. His gauntlet hummed as it charged up, then Doomfist shot forward, faster than Efi’s eyes could track. Orisa aimed her fist at the floor and an orb shot out, forming a barrier of faint blue light. Doomfist collided with it, hard, but it absorbed the shock. Doomfist, however, was not deterred.

  “Fire at that shield,” he commanded his lieutenants. “Bring it down!”

  The lieutenants stepped forward and began to fire. Bullets struck the shield relentlessly, slowly damaging it. Finally, it gave way, leaving Orisa’s energy reserves drained, and completely out in the open.

  Doomfist smiled.

  “I hope that the girl gave you more than a new coat of paint,” he said, then raised his fist again.

  Orisa slowly lifted her head, her eyes training on him.

  Efi hoped that Doomfist would get caught up in one of his self-important monologues so that Orisa would have time to recharge, but he rushed at the robot again without a single word. He leaped into the air this time, then struck the ground with a tremendous punch, sending Orisa flying backward.

  She struck a support column, and it cracked under the stress of the impact. Orisa’s systems whirred and whined as they shut down. Her auxiliary power light still glowed, meaning she’d just need a minute to reboot. Another hit like that, though, and Efi was sure her robot would be out for good.

  Efi ran out of hiding. “Stop!” she yelled at Doomfist, standing between his drawn fist and her robot.

  Doomfist looked at Efi and laughed. “Get out of here before you get hurt, child.”

  “You’re ruining everything. Someone’s got to stand up to you. And it’s me. I’m not afraid. I won’t let you destroy my city!”

  “Destroy Numbani? Why would I do a thing like that?” Doomfist chuckled, looking thoroughly amused. “Listen, child. I’m no monster. Numbani leads the world in education and commerce. In biometrics. In nanotechnology. This city is primed for greatness. All it needs is a little chaos to bring out its best.”

  Efi shook her head. “Numbani is great because humans and omnics live in harmony.”

  Doomfist unclenched his gauntlet, and his posture changed. His shoulders hunched forward slightly, the strained muscles in his neck untensed, and his brow eased. The effect was noticeable—he suddenly looked less threatening, even weighted down as he was by the superweapon on his hand. “True,” he said softly. “But this same harmony has allowed the weak to flourish alongside the strong. Imagine how much greater this city could be if we didn’t waste our time and resources on those who can’t keep up with people like us. I’m a big fan of your work. But I’ve seen this city, this world grow complacent with its technological advances. Only through conflict do we evolve.”

  He lowered himself so they now stood eye to eye. “But you already know that, don’t you, Efi? Or do you prefer BotBuilder11?”

  Efi swallowed, caught off guard. Doomfist knew who she was? It didn’t matter. She shook the thought off and glared at him. “The only thing I need to know is how to stop you. And Orisa will do that.”

  Doomfist laughed. “I admire your confidence, however misplaced it may be.”

  “You wouldn’t think so if you knew what my robot is capable of. You broke the OR15s. I made one stronger.”

  “Yes, but not strong enough,” he said. “However, Talon is always in need of new talent. Young talent.”

  Efi stared at her cousin Bisi, but his expression was distant and cold. It’d been well over a year since she’d last seen him, but still, she hadn’t changed that much. He had to recognize her. Did he not care about her anymore? Not even a little? Or was he too ashamed of the company he was now keeping?

  Efi growled at Doomfist for the role he’d played in taking Bisi away from her and her family. “Talon is trying to tear us apart, but together, the citizens of Numbani are already much stronger than you will ever be.”

  Doomfist frowned and raised his hand cannon. He pointed it at Orisa, but Efi moved to stand in front of her.

  “You’ll have to shoot me, too,” Efi said. “You say you’re not a monster. Prove it! Take your lieutenants and leave this place.”

  “You don’t want to get in the way of this.” Doomfist pointed his hand cannon right at Efi. He jumped into the air, ready to attack, but at the last possible moment, Efi heard her robot coming back online.

  Orisa was still crumpled up in a heap but managed to fire a large green orb into the room, and one by one Doomfist’s lieutenants were dragged toward it. A graviton pulse? But how? Orisa didn’t have that capability yet. The lieutenants hit the wall with such a force that they were knocked out cold. Doomfist just barely escaped the pull of the pulse and aimed at Orisa again. All hints of kindness had disappeared from his face. Now there was only fury.

  Orisa threw up her shield again, this time with Efi tucked safely behind it.

  The shield held as Doomfist slammed it with bullets. Efi felt a surge of heat coming off the shield, like she was standing too close to an oven, but nothing more. More blasts came, but she became more confident that the barrier would hold, at least long enough for her to summon some backup. Efi worked her way through the code Doomfist had used to deactivate the vehicles within Numbani. Finally, as the congestion eased, she heard sirens wailing in the distance, getting closer. Her code had disseminated. Help was on the way and Orisa’s graviton pulse was almost recharged. Orisa didn’t have a whole lot left in her, but it would be enough to see that
justice was served.

  Doomfist stopped firing, then called his lieutenants to regroup. At least the ones that were still capable of walking.

  He looked back at Efi before leaving. “You should learn your history, girl, because I promise you, it’s about to repeat itself.” And then he and his crew were gone, including Bisi—exiting through the same massive chasm they’d punched into the museum. She couldn’t believe her cousin was involved with Talon. Somehow, that cut more deeply than any of the nonsense Doomfist had said to her.

  Efi took a deep breath, then looked Orisa up and down, assessing the damage. Her robot was already in the middle of running a self-diagnostic, and it seemed like nearly every system had been compromised in some way. Efi willed the tears away and focused on being a roboticist, looking at a machine that needed to be repaired rather than seeing a severely wounded friend. Both front legs were nonfunctional, and her chest plate had cracked. Still, Orisa had stood up to him better than any of the OR15s at the airport had. This was merely a setback. She would rebuild her robot yet again, stronger, faster, better.

  “What is this?” Efi asked, pointing to the device mounted on Orisa’s arm. It was cobbled together from mismatched parts, a patchwork of metal and wires. Then she saw the Junkertown graffiti on the side. Efi grimaced. It was made by the community of misfits living down in what was left of Australia after they’d blown up the fusion core on an omnium plant.

  “A graviton reactor,” Orisa said, her voice slow and warbling. “It was necessary to gain a tactical advantage.”

  “Yes, but that’s for me to worry about, not you. This is Junker tech. It’s probably irradiated and just as likely to blow up in your face as it is to work. We’re going to have to send that back as soon as we get you home. And why did you cut off your remote interface like that? You disobeyed my commands.”

  “Doomfist is the enemy. You said we must stop him at all costs.”

  “Yes, well, maybe that was a bad choice of words. There are other factors you need to figure in. Besides, we need to finish your training first, and … and where did you even get the money to buy a reactor?”

 

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