The Second Rising

by Kevin Douglas

  Officially, the creature’s design was tagged by Marty in the system as BOT 301, but to Marty it was known as Gretchen’s Chimera. His creature was made with one purpose. While simple minded, the BOT was made to surveil and protect, but it could be lethal if need be.

  It would be there to watch over and protect her if he were absent, threatened, or like in their current state, detained. Marty wasn’t a complete fool when it came to computers and he was able to embed a primary target by giving his creature a facial bitmap to scan and biometrically match with Gretchen’s. His intention was to activate Chimera as soon as he had presented the clock to Gretchen, but Fox Three’s sudden appearance had disrupted that.

  However, before Gretchen was shot Marty was able to tag her clothing with a tracer, one that his creation could follow. Marty would soon find out if Mr. Sullivan had followed his wishes and released his daughter. If they thought, he was agreeable and expendable they had better think again. If they wanted war, he would give it to them.

  . . . .

  Chimera opened his exposed eye and took another GPS reading; it was as close as he was going to get to the Halaby mansion. He released his grip and slid across the bumper, his momentum carrying him off onto the pavement, and rolling him into the nearby bushes.

  Undercover in the wild thick brush, the metal orb sprouted arms and legs then uncoiled, revealing his head and eyes. His tail coiled over its back as he stepped down onto all fours and sprinted in the direction of Halaby.

  Chimera took a direct route cutting across the woods, finally coming to a stream; he carefully made his way across, delicately skipping from stone to stone. Chimera’s last leap landed him in a few inches of water and he quickly got to dry land and spun his gyroscope, vibrating off the surface water.

  He was for all intents and purposes water proof, but that hadn’t been tested. With all his modifications, he wasn’t about to push his limits just yet. The monkey scampered down the small dirt road and found the front gate’s metal bars glowing blue, blocking the entryway. He glanced up to the eye atop the archway emanating blue light from above, watching.

  Chimera eyed the gate, cautious of its electrical charge, and scaled the wall next to it instead. He ran across the top of the wall and onto the archway; sitting midway above the blue eye, the monkey looked forward to the mansion, its upper floors barely visible through the trees. Chimera knew he had to be cautious as Halaby’s grounds were a dangerous place for any outsider but hoped his digital signature would disguise him as friendly.

  The monkey hopped onto a nearby branch, swinging limb to limb, hand over hand, making his way closer to the last stand of trees. Chimera stopped briefly before the massive lawn in front of the estate to pick his next route, then climbed higher to have a direct line of sight to the upper floors.

  Chimera came to rest and dangled from a branch by his tail. He closed his eyes to conceal any lost heat through his lenses, then mapped out the mansion’s framework as he overlaid the GPS beacon’s exact location onto his field of vision. Chimera open his eyes and swiftly made his way to the back of the home where the coordinates led, moving tree to tree to avoid detection.

  As he skirted his way around the mansion, he detected a sea of floating signatures within the trees. He definitely wasn’t alone, there were dozens upon dozens of BOT Model 101 all around. Every eye turned as he passed, verifying Chimera as BOT 301 then returning their focus elsewhere, waiting vigilantly for a valid intruder.

  Chimera was correct, Mr. Sullivan’s pets had identified him by his model number and correlated it in the database. What he wasn’t sure of was how they would react towards him when he revealed his true intentions there. He located the window that matched the coordinates and found the closest tree branch, coming to rest while he focused his highly sensitive ears toward the window. His small metallic ears cupped slightly, and audio immediately bounced back to him.

  “Let me out of here! I’m sick of this place, you said I could leave soon! Hellooooo! Where did you go? Hellooooo!”

  The screaming girl’s voice was followed by pounding and kicking on a wall or door within the room. The transmission feedback coming from Chimera’s listening center caught the attention from a nearby squirrel, it hopped onto his branch and inched closer, keeping its eyes on the small monkey. Chimera needed visual confirmation that this was Gretchen and a glimpse of her current living conditions to determine his level of engagement to recover her.

  The monkey grabbed a branch above, hoisting himself closer to get a better look, mindful that the nearby squirrel was coming increasingly close. The infrared that the monkey was using had also confirmed a heat signature of a human inside the room, so he uncoiled his tail and lowered himself an inch away from the glass, adjusting the light exposure to his vision to bring the dim room into focus.

  The monkey’s large eyes peeped between the narrow part in the curtains; once stabilized, the infrared display was replaced with the full spectrum. Chimera kept himself aware of the BOT moving in on his location and quickly panned the room to try to verify a facial scan of the woman within and compare it to Gretchen’s picture on file.

  His primary mission was to locate her first, then report his findings to the cloud which Marty could retrieve. Chimera knew he didn’t have a lot of time until the creature either tried to communicate or began to attack, but despite this pressure he remained calm. The confirmation was risky because he was exposed to the approaching BOT and also the woman, he would need to see her face and risk her seeing him as well.

  After her cries for help and pounding on the door, she slunk to the floor, hands dragging against the wood, followed by the clunk of her forehead. Light sobs gave way to sniffles and the moment passed as she dried her eyes and turned around to sit with her back against the door.

  To Chimera everything seemed to be in slow motion, and he hoped the woman would expose her face in time for him to complete a scan. He made out a facial structure deep in the room, but it was too dark, he adjusted his vision once more and was able to take a scan. With confirmation, Chimera compressed the audio, infrared scans, high res images, and facial matches, then sent the file to the cloud.

  All of this happened quickly but not quickly enough. As Gretchen relaxed she looked toward the window and was startled by the large eyes peering back at her. Not knowing what to make of it, she rose off the floor and moved towards the widow. He didn’t want her to draw attention to him, but it was too late.

  Chimera read Gretchen’s sudden pupil dilation to an object not within his focal range, behind him, and simultaneously received a completion to his upload, followed by an attempted intercept of the data packet. The squirrel BOT was now in a dead sprint to strike. It hadn’t intercepted the source file, but it had confirmed that the data had been sent off site and not to the central hub somewhere within Halaby.

  A quick reflection off the glass confirmed an open-mouthed squirrel charging in his direction, but Chimera had already begun to let himself fall downward; still held by his tail, he now hung upside down looking backward directly at the squirrel now in midair. Chimera’s mouth had already contorted into a tight ring and spit out high velocity metal barbs shredding into the squirrel’s exposed face and mouth.

  The maneuver was successful, but the squirrel’s momentum still carried it into Chimera, slamming him into the glass and causing the branch to snap. They both plummeted to the ground twenty feet below, the squirrel hitting the ground first and almost immediately he began foaming into a large mass. Chimera, not sure of what he was witnessing, ran behind a nearby tree trunk to take cover.

  The squirrel exploded into dust leaving nothing behind, not even the monkey’s barbs. Confused and uncertain, Chimera whipped his head from side to side scanning to see if any movement was detected. It appeared no BOT had been nearby, and no warning or alerts had been broadcast to the protectors arranged around the home. Chimera now knew close combat was to be avoided unless he wished to be disfigured or scattered into the wind like a dand
elion. He also knew he would have to remain on high alert and may have to disappear until further instructions were received.

  The death of one of Mr. Sullivan’s creatures would be reported soon and a hunt would be on; its source file gave it free roam of the grounds, but it didn’t leave him immune from suspicion, and his model number stuck out like a sore thumb, having been the only one of its kind created.

  Chimera looked for a place to take cover, somewhere not out in the open, the trees and bushes would be searched…. he made the decision to hide somewhere they’d least expect to find him, somewhere on or within the home. He scaled the building with tremendous speed, using both tail and limbs to reach the roof top, as a confused, curious, and amazed Gretchen watched from the window as the monkey climbed with ease.

  Once on the roof Chimera went to the chimney stacks located nearby and leapt to the top, coiling its tail around the round opening, then guiding its body into the hole; it was a tight fit. He extended his arms and legs within the pipe to suspend his body and released the grip of his tail around the pipe, coiling his long tail atop his head. He had but a few minutes until BOT 111’s absence was discovered, and a total assessment count was ordered to detect any other affected units.

  Chimera closed his eyes and powered down into standby mode, he was now a statue, frozen once again until Marty retrieved his transmission and gave instructions on his next move.

  He hoped for Gretchen’s release but would fight to his death to rescue her if she was threatened. His very existence was for her protection, and he would stop at nothing to free her. Chimera’s small heat signature faded, and all data signatures were lost to anyone scanning the area. The quiet morning gave way to sounds of bird songs filling the woods as his stream of audio faded to silence.

  CHAPTER 18

  P utting the finishing touches on the second BOT, Marty was starting to get the feeling he was a part of something sinister. Their design was roughly the same as the butcher’s, but the face scans he feared were real life people, as opposed to randomly generated features. Prior to these last two units the computer-generated random features, but the last two had been specific files that were uploaded from the butcher’s hard disk in the field.

  Stopping production now would be detrimental to Ms. Likvold’s project, they had been ramping things up and her tight schedule provided little room for flexibility. If he quit cold turkey, it would please Mr. Sullivan and guarantee his daughter’s release, however, he wondered if Mr. Sullivan would have strings attached.

  Marty knew Ms. Likvold to be fair and her previous projects had been very financially rewarding, but things were different now. She had a strict production schedule and had little time for him to rest, and he was her abducted prisoner.

  Marty had worked as a contract for hire for most of his life, so not asking questions and looking the other way had been pretty much contractual. This time was no different in his mind with that respect and he told himself he’d keep that attitude.

  His work was normally in some form satisfying, but not this time. Not just because it wasn’t clocks or coasters; being coerced to complete a task went against his grain, because of that he had contempt for her. He finished the last of the testing on this unit’s motor response systems and called for Ms. Likvold to inspect and release the unit from his care. She arrived promptly as if she had been watching his progress and awaiting this badly needed BOT.

  “Thank you, Marty, perfection as usual. This is getting easier and easier for you isn’t it?”

  Marty wiped his brow covered in sweat, then responded, “Piece of cake. Anything’s possible I suppose if you’re held to the grindstone for 14 hours a day and commanded to produce.”

  “Oh, Marty don’t get dramatic on me, you’ve always been so sensible and reliable. You’re my go-to, get-it-done man. Like I said, I do regret the circumstances of our arrangement, you’ll be rewarded two-fold for your troubles, I promise.”

  “Arrangement? As if I had a choice. Anyways, I appreciate your rewards, but there comes a time when being home trumps them all. Here is your latest model.”

  Ms. Likvold looked over the unit, eyeing its head and inspecting the face closely.

  “That’ll be all Marty, you’re dismissed. Once again, you’ve earned time with Gretchen on the phone. Enjoy it and get some rest, we need the three remaining units by Friday.”

  “Friday! That’s three units in two days! Not possible!” Marty said, shaking his head in a dismissive nature.

  Ms. Likvold hadn’t been affected by Marty’s shouts and objections; she continued to inspect the unit’s face, grabbing the chin and turning it side to side, while speaking.

  “As I’ve said, you’re dismissed I’ll take it from here. The schedule can and will be adhered to. Gretchen is waiting for you Marty.”

  Confused by her spontaneous attention to detail, the BOT’s face did little to belay Marty’s fears about the BOT’s uses. He had begun to walk out of the room when he turned and spoke to her once more.

  “The scans for the face are new. Tell me, what is their purpose? The face is merely decoration, why such precise specifications?”

  Ms. Likvold’s head snapped in his direction, as if he had said something she didn’t care for.

  “Your sudden interest in my work is new as well, Marty. Let me remind you, that you are here to produce for me, nothing else. I give you the units needed functions, not their intended uses or applications.”

  “The complexity of the facial scans add time to the build, which is delaying the project. I suggest scrapping them and going with random features based on sex, if you want them on time.”

  “All I can tell you is this client is very specific about the appearance of the units it has purchased. They are to client specifications and will not be altered or delayed.”

  “You’re telling me you don’t know their applications once they are delivered, how----?”

  “Are you having second thoughts Marty? Have you spoken with someone that is influencing you, maybe I need to remind you what’s at stake?”

  “This is your project.”

  “With all this time you’re wasting here talking to me, perhaps you don’t need phone time with Gretchen after all. You can always begin on the next three units immediately.”

  Marty remained silent. He needed to have time to communicate with his daughter and confirm her release, so he decided not to press his luck; she’d never reveal anything to him anyway.

  “Goodbye Marty, have a nice chat.”

  Marty walked slowly to the door and exited but left the door open slightly so he could hear into the room.

  He heard Ms. Likvold’s distant voice saying, “Hello, Mr. Whittaker, your objectives are being uploaded to you now, report first to the butcher in the field then to your E5 Matthew Davis and await further instructions. Do you understand?”

  “Yes ma’am”

  “Excellent Henry you’re a soldier now. You’re dismissed.”

  Marty was taken aback. Soldier? Was this a Pentagon project? He decided he could contemplate this later, for now he’d better leave unnoticed if what he feared was true. He needed to receive word from Gretchen ASAP and end this madness. He returned to his room at a sprint and immediately dialed out to receive Chimera’s report.

  He stood listening for a moment, then plopped down onto the bed, sitting with his elbows on his knees, his head slouched in disappointment. A chime indicated he had received a text, it was from Chimera. He quickly switched over and saw an image of Gretchen sitting against a door with tears streaming down her face.

  Marty was angry but needed to keep his cool if he was to help his daughter; he also feared after Ms. Likvold’s comment about outside involvement, that she may have a way of monitoring his communications, so he wanted to remain brief and generic.

  Marty copied Chimera’s picture of Gretchen and typed out a message to her that he knew Mr. Sullivan would see, Disappointed, nothing’s changed after all the pointers I gave about my c
urrent client the last time we spoke. Well it’s business as usual for me here till I hear otherwise. Looks like I aim to wrap up soon, this should be a strong project. You’ll be in contact with my friend soon, make sure arrangements are made, if not, he’ll conclude our business for me.

  Marty knew there’d be no reply from Mr. Sullivan, as there was nothing he could say. Letting Gretchen free would be the only response that would change his mind. Marty dialed up Chimera’s message board and entered a series of numbers into the phone.

  He had given Chimera a message to report again in eight hours on Gretchen’s status, if she was still captive, he would once again wait for further instructions. If she was free he would confirm her identity and make sure she was somewhere safe.

  He ended the call and let out a deep breath as he swiveled his legs onto the bed to get some much-needed rest. He worried that any option he would choose from now on would turn out to be difficult and potentially dangerous.

  Chimera would be vital to the success of his plans and the safety of his daughter. Her reaction to seeing the clock he had made her played in his mind; that’s the first time he’d seen her smile in a long time. “I’ll save you Gretchen,” he whispered to himself. His eyes grew heavy and he closed them, falling quickly into a sound, snoring sleep.

  CHAPTER 19

  S tratus had questions he wished to ask the president, and now he would have the opportunity as director of the Pentagon ghost division. He wondered how much the president knew about the mission at Halaby and whether he truly knew that Cromwell was dead. Stratus had questions he needed answered before he ever meets with President Flury. Things weren’t as simple now.

  The first thing he wanted to do was get his car back, driving around in the rental had him feeling off. He deserved better. He made his way to the long-term parking lot at the airport, carelessly leaving his rental parked in the vicinity of the curb. Stratus hoped there weren’t any scrapes or dings to his silver baby. He saw his Porsche from afar, isolated with nothing around. Relief! He popped open the driver door and looked over the car, grimacing at the bird droppings spattered over the hood and roof.