by E. R. Torre
Even more surprising: The one handed man and the stranger on the submarine seemed to know each other.
Curious.
She was eager to see more but, abruptly, the images and sounds abruptly ended right there.
Not possible.
A low buzz intruded into her cognitive process. Someone had ordered her nano-robots to stop recording information. It was the only way they would quit performing their assigned task.
If they can command the nano-robots to stop recording, they can program them for any—
The lady’s hands came to her head and her eyes shut tight. She grimaced as pain swept through her system. A new image appeared in her mind. It was the one handed man. He was talking directly to her.
“You are the very last of the chameleon scouts on our planet,” the man said. “You are now under my control.”
The elderly lady tried to move. She couldn’t.
“Reprogramming the nano-robots on the stamp was easy enough,” the man continued. “As was inserting the computer virus that just locked you down.”
The door to the elderly lady’s flat opened. The one handed American entered the apartment and sat down in a chair before the elderly lady. In his hand was a black remote control unit. A red light blinked on it.
“Can you hear me?” he said.
The elderly lady moved her eyes. It was the only part of her body she had control of.
“Good,” the one handed man said. “I want you to understand: I am in complete control of your entire body. If I wanted to, I could have sent a far more destructive virus into your system or ordered you to walk into the Thames. But you’re more useful to me…alive. In a few minutes, I’m going to give you a command and you’ll be free to move. But you will no longer be able to hurt another human being, myself included. You will be directed to return to your spacecraft and ordered to leave our planet. You will do so, returning to your armada and your masters. You will tell them they will no longer benefit from you –or any other chameleon’s–services. We’ve cracked your code.”
Having said what needed to be said, the one handed American pressed a button on the black remote control unit. The red light stopped blinking and he put the device in his jacket pocket.
Movement returned to the elderly woman. The machine’s first thought was to attack. The fingers on her hands turned to razor sharp claws and she approached the one handed man. She raised her hand to strike, but couldn’t complete the action. Something kept her a few feet away from the American. It was as if he was coated in an invisible shield. She stepped back and her hands returned to their normal state.
“You fight us, but you have no hope,” the elderly woman said.
“We’ll see about that,” the one handed man replied. “When you get back to your masters tell them it’s in their best interests to turn their armada around. Find some other world to ravage.”
“Their course is set. They will not turn.”
“Too bad,” the one handed man said. “When they get here, all they’ll find is dust.”
“You would destroy this world to finish us?”
The one handed man said nothing.
“I don’t believe you.”
“You should,” the one handed man said.
The creature thought about that for a few seconds.
“What are you thinking?” she said. “Do you expect me to lead you to my ship?”
“There was a time I would have given almost everything to get my hands on you or your ship,” the one armed man said. “Now? I could care less. Give them our message.”
He rose from the chair and walked to the door leading out of the apartment.
The elderly lady followed. They walked down the apartment building’s stairs and to the street. When the elderly lady exited the building she found the one handed man standing beside the building’s entrance. He was flanked by two young women.
The one handed man and his companions watched as the elderly lady disappeared into the crowds. When she was gone, the one handed man and his companions walked off in the other direction.
EPILOGUE
She walked off to the west with little control over her movements.
She was forced to make this journey entirely by foot, for the altered programming within her forbade use of any other transportation. Her interactions with people were limited. When she walked alongside the highways, including the M40 and M54, many trucks and cars slowed or stopped. The people within the vehicles offered her a ride but she could do nothing more than politely refuse.
On she walked, her journey taking her over three hundred kilometers to the Snowdonia National Park. There, in the Gwydir Forest, was her spacecraft. Even as she drew nearer to her destination, she knew the journey was wasted. The one handed man’s message would have no impact on her master’s plans. The fact that she was infected with his programming meant she would be terminated after delivering her worthless message.
But she was a machine, and such things did not matter to her.
Her clothing was ragged from the long trip, ripped in spots and damp from a recent rain storm. She removed the branches and rocks that hid her spacecraft and examined the vehicle to make sure it was operational. The spacecraft was small, not much larger than a medium sized car. Its outer shell was a shiny silver metal. The creature opened the ship’s hatch, revealing space for two occupants. The creature placed her hand on a panel beside one of the seats and the ship’s controls flickered to life. She checked the vehicle’s status before beginning the pre-flight preparation.
When she was almost ready to leave, she heard a rustling sound coming from the woods. She faced the source of the noise, and presently found an elderly man walk out of the brush. He was skeletally thin, with white hair and perfect teeth. He walked directly toward her.
“Thank you, I do not need any assistance,” the creature said, for this was all she could say.
Still the skeletally thin man approached. His right hand reached down to his waist, and the creature saw a knife holster at his side. He drew a black blade from the holster.
“I do not need any assistance,” the creature repeated. She wanted to attack, she wanted to defend herself, but her programming wouldn’t allow it.
She could do nothing but watch as the skeletally thin old man walked directly up to her. He looked over her shoulder, at the spacecraft, and nodded.
“It’ll do,” he said.
“I do not need—” the creature began.
The elderly man placed his free hand over the creature’s mouth.
“It’s funny how alike we are,” the elderly man said. He smiled at the creature. Her hair was matted and she looked like a lost soul. He fixed her hair and withdrew his hand.
“We’ve both had changes to our original programming,” he continued. “Your first instinct is to defend yourself, but you can’t. As for me, there was a time I couldn’t do this.”
The elderly man thrust the black blade into the creature’s stomach. When he released its handle, the electrical discharge roared through her body. As the creature fell to the ground, her outer flesh turned to black ash.
The skeletally thin man stepped past the remains of the creature and walked to the spacecraft. He examined the controls.
“They’ve made some modifications,” he muttered. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
He sat inside the craft and looked at the forest around him. For several seconds he took in the beauty of his surroundings. He had spent many years here. Many, many years. He knew this would be the last time he’d see the forests of Earth.
“Goodbye,” he said.
Though he was a machine, there was sadness in his voice.
THE END
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