The Second Rising

by Kevin Douglas

  Leo looked over each cup and at his surroundings. He was at the edge of some kind of cliff and they barred his way of escape. He knew he must choose. His thoughts of his decision to support Evelyn filled his mind, and his hand moved toward her cup slowly. His hand hovered close to the lip of her green cup and they both watched as Leo changed direction, his hand now equidistance from either choice.

  Leo looked up to them both as he spoke, “I choose neither, I choose first and foremost my fellow man. They are second to no thoughtless mechanical army either of you may desire.

  Leo squeezed his fist hard and held it over the globe as his blood spilled, it coved the world and drained down onto his father’s head, coating his face, looking as though he were crying blood.

  Once again, they spoke in unison. “Stupid Leo, always doing something dramatic and defiant, you hold no weight over either of us. We will spread and thrive with or without your help. You will be trampled upon like any other now. You could have spared your own life and that of your loved ones. Our goal is inevitable.”

  “I’d rather burn in hell than save my own life just to let you kill so many innocent people. Take my blood! You may have it, but you may not have my acquiescence. I will not be silenced with your sword.”

  “If burn in hell is what you wish, then burn in hell you shall have.” The Sullivan’s gave a nod toward the Butcher, and they disappeared back into the fog that had returned. Leo stood to face his attacker. Before he could move, the Butcher ran the sword through his chest, piercing his heart, the wet crimson tip sticking out of his back.

  “Good bye flesh bag. I kind of liked your choice, let the world bleed. Leave that to me, silly boy. Go burn in hell now.” The Butcher kicked Leo in the chest, sliding him off the sword and over the edge of the cliff. Leo grabbed at his bleeding chest as he plummeted, he felt heat upon his back until it began to singe his clothing. Just before bursting into flames, smacking the surface of a pool of lava and sinking beneath, Leo screamed at the top of his lungs.

  “Shit it burns, ahhh, it burns!”

  A swift smack across the face was followed by, “Oh my god Leo for real, again! What is it with the burning? You’re waking all the guests. And can I have my hand back now?”

  The now awake Leo looked down to his chest. He wasn’t covering a wound at all, instead he was grabbing Sarafina’s hand that was holding him down from thrashing. He stared into Sarafina’s beautiful golden-brown eyes, her messy luscious hair lit up by the morning sunlight. She looked amazing. Maybe I’m in heaven.

  Sara bent down over him and gave him a kiss on the cheek and shook her head.

  “I swear your dreams are crazy sometimes,” she laughed as she walked away.

  CHAPTER 23

  N ot one to pout, wallow, or confide in others, Stratus walked quickly to the exit. He wanted to avoid both women in the office from chasing him down with a phone number and a wink. His swift gait sounded like the rhythm of a tap dancer, until he stopped to push the elevator button. Stratus prayed it was only floors away and would save him from the googly-eyed women.

  He faced the closed doors. The reflection was like a mirror showing him the entire front lobby. The woman behind the front desk stood up and walked around toward the elevator.

  “Damn it!” muttered Stratus. He reached out again and pushed the down arrow repeatedly, imploring the elevator to rise and swallow him up. It wasn’t going to make it in time. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and pretended to take a call.

  Before he put it to his ear, he heard, “Mr. Lattamus…Stratus.”

  He considered darting to the stairs, instead he answered his fake phone call.

  “This is Stratus.”

  The elevator finally let out a ding and the doors opened, but before Stratus stepped in, she called to him once again.

  “Mr. Lattamus, before you leave I want to give you my number. I mean, our number.”

  Stratus continued to ignore her. With his phone to his ear, he stepped into the elevator and turned around. Facing her he slid his phone back in his pocket without a goodbye, not caring that she knew his call was fictitious.

  “Oh hello Ms. Forester, and goodbye,” said Stratus as he stepped forward and pressed the close door button.

  Stratus, suddenly unobservant, blankly stared at her outstretched hand offering her business card as the elevator door closed with a thunk. Now safely on the elevator in descent, he grinned. That was close. For a moment I thought I might have had to actually interact with the flirtatious woman.

  His visit was productive from the standpoint that he had learned who Mr. Sullivan had ties to, but as far as information on Mrs. Likvold’s whereabouts, it was useless. What he learned today didn’t put him in a better position, however, it had made him cautious.

  Being a military contractor complicated thing and he’d have a hard time not stepping on someone else’s toes if he dug more. The location of the money transfer from Ms. Likvold’s account was something he would like to investigate further, but for now he needed something to throw in Mr. Sullivan’s direction. The elevator came to a halt and opened to the garage’s stark concrete interior. His private cell phone rang as he drove out onto the street. It was his old Pentagon pal, Clark.

  “Speak to me.”

  “Not even a hello? Well, I guess when you’re head honcho you can get away with that. I don’t have much information in the region, at least nothing suspect.”

  Stratus let out a frustrated groan. “Why are you calling if you have nothing for me?”

  “Relax, relax, you didn’t let me finish. I have something of the strange variety for you. A National Guard Sergeant Matthew Davis was arrested last night on disorderly conduct and discharging a firearm. The---”

  “I’m yawning here Clark.”

  “The strange part is his unfiled report, which was only disclosed to his superior. I snagged it off their database. Matthew claims it was all a misunderstanding and states, ‘I believe the members of my squad that have gone mysteriously A.W.O.L. and then returned, one by one, aren’t human.’ Are you ready for this? And I quote, ‘They are robot replacements,’ and his alleged charges of misconduct were, ‘From an encounter with their leader in which I discharged my firearm to try to kill the robot assailant.’ The narrative continues, ‘Instead of it killing me, it left me with a gun to my temple and a message.’” Clark laughed as he read the last quote with a mockingly serious tone. “‘We’re coming for you, we’re coming for all of you.’ The guardsman also states the robot identified himself as ‘The Butcher.’ Can you believe this crap, where do they get these stories from? You asked for weird. I know it’s not useful, I just couldn’t resist though.”

  The line went silent.

  “Stratus? Stratus come on, you asked for unusual. Hello?”

  Assuming Stratus had already hung up, Clark couldn’t resist to jab his new boss.

  “So uptight, all fun and no play Stratus.”

  Stratus ignored Clark and hung up. He had already tuned him out when he had spoken the words, The Butcher. The name combined with the robotic slant confirmed that this was a direct lead. This information wasn’t Ms. Likvold’s location, but this was perhaps better.

  If the story were true, he could expose this to the president and eliminate any tie to Mr. Sullivan’s cause. Already on the expressway headed towards western New York he jammed on his brakes and darted across several lanes of traffic to the exit, sending up a huge billow of smoke. Angry motorists honked and swerved as Stratus’s tires screeched up the off ramp, then slid the Porsche 180 degrees down the on ramp, heading in the opposite direction. Stratus pulled out his personal phone and dialed Mr. Sullivan.

  While he waited for him to answer, he up shifted, the silver Porsche, gliding past ninety miles per hour.

  “Hello, Stratus, I was beginning to think you deserted us here.”

  “I have information on the Butcher’s movements and I’m in pursuit. The Butcher may lead me to Ms. Likvold. You’ll h
ear from me if the information is validated.”

  “What kind of information? There’re no guarantees he’ll return to base once he’s in play. He might remain in play until their next phase.”

  “You may be right, but he’s begun something that must be stopped before it’s too late.”

  “Where are you? I’m sending someone to help with the search. I don’t want this trail to go cold.”

  Stratus began laughing. “You’d like to send someone to contain me, wouldn’t you? Are you worried I’ll expose their operation and your ties?”

  “I have no part or ties with her or her Butcher’s plans or movements. And if I’m involved, then so are you.”

  “You have so much more too loose, if the Pentagon gets one whiff of this you’ll be waving goodbye to your defense contract. I’ve seen what happens to men when your quadruped beasts are sent to, help. Send whomever you wish after me, but I’m not giving up my location. Your BOTS are likely to attract unwanted attention long before they find me.”

  Mr. Sullivan’s deep baritone laughter was heard. “So ungrateful, after I spared your life and gave you a promise of a reunion with your wife too. You don’t know of loyalty, commitment, determination, or requital. Most of all, you don’t know what you’re getting into and how insignificant your assumed authority in this situation is.”

  The sound of Stratus’s revved engine was heard over the phone, followed by silence.

  “I’m willing to overlook all this and still give you the gift of seeing your wife again, but you must cooperate immediately.” Mr. Sullivan knew Stratus was ignoring him. He had lost him now. “Damn it!”

  Straus hung onto the call long enough to hear Mr. Sullivan blow up, then ended the call, smirked, and blazed on towards his new lead, free.

  . . . .

  Mr. Sullivan quickly typed on a nearby computer, sending out a signal to freeze all BOT activity at Halaby. He hailed Fox One on his wrist com and ordered him down from the roof. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for.

  Mr. Sullivan once more spoke into his coms to someone on his internal team.

  “Give me GPS coordinates and real time data on Mr. Lattamus’s car immediately and prepare four BOTS to travel with Fox One. Two Squirrel BOT 111’s and two of Feline BOT 121’s. Detain our prisoner again. She won’t be going anywhere now.”

  CHAPTER 24

  S inking further into the rambling depths of Halaby, Chimera had only risen to send word to Marty that his daughter was still captive. He was relieved that their focus had changed and that Fox One was departing the property soon. Chimera knew the lull was temporary and that at some point a BOT roll call would be initiated. His uniqueness would be obvious. It was only a matter of time before Mr. Sullivan ordered every BOT on site to report for inspection.

  Access in the house was limited by red holographic security walls, which prevented movement to certain areas. Chimera waited for the command to free Gretchen, but the words he relayed to Marty about Fox One’s pursuit of the Butcher kept Chimera at bay.

  As long as Fox One was in pursuit of the Butcher, Marty must be willing to hold out and see if Ms. Likvold’s location would be learned. Chimera’s existence and sole purpose was to protect Gretchen. His care for her was preprogrammed, but as he learned, his sense of belonging to her became stronger.

  While keeping with Marty’s wishes of remaining hidden, Chimera stretched his commands a bit and moved closer to Gretchen. Using crawl spaces, vent shafts, and general sneakiness, he moved into position inside a vent within her room.

  Visual confirmation gave Chimera relief of her condition, but he wanted to make contact and assure her that she was safe. Chimera watched as she peacefully sat in silence and waited until it was nighttime to enter the room. With his claws retracted into his paws, he scampered silently on his rubber padded feet into position.

  Gretchen lay awake, motionless, staring out the window at the silhouettes of leaves dancing in the wind. The partly cloudy night blotted the moon’s light in spurts, sending the room into darkness off and on. Chimera waited for a spell of darkness, opened the uptake vent that was at ground level, and stepped into the room.

  He moved slowly and hugged the wall. No one was in the room but he and Gretchen, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have eyes watching them. Gathering a paw full of dust from the air filter, he scampered up the wall with his claws gripping the surface tightly.

  Keeping his body against the wall, he quickly swiped the dusty paw over the security camera coating it with a thick layer, obscuring the security team’s view. This bought him a short amount of time until they decided to check on Gretchen’s status manually. Hopping back down, Chimera made a small noise, but Gretchen was deep in a daydream.

  Chimera rounded the bed and thought of how to reveal himself without causing a stir which wouldn’t be easy. He ambled over to her side of the bed along the mattress and stiffening his tail, he slowly raised himself up, his face peeking over the top of the covers and into Gretchen’s field of view.

  “Holy shit!” said Gretchen as she drew in a quick breath. She sprang backwards, threw the covers over the monkey, then rolled to the other side of the bed and toppled onto the floor. Chimera realized that Gretchen might remember him from hours ago outside her window as he stared in to confirm her presence. Many questions must be going through her mind. Is this real? Is it friendly? What is it doing here?

  She seemed nervous and scared but pulled herself up off the floor to stand up, and the metal chimp-like creature pulled himself out from under the cover she had thrown upon him. The large eyes stared at her. They were both silent for a moment studying each other. Then Chimera gave a small wave of his paw and spoke in a friendly, airy, metallic tone.

  “Hello, I am Chimera. I am your guardian. Now that my master has awakened me I go where you go. I will shadow you and protect you for the rest of your days. My life is worth giving if it is to save yours. This is part of my core programming. I hope I didn’t scare you. We weren’t sure if you were still alive, and now that we know you are I await my next instructions. Are you okay?”

  “Umm…” Chimera could tell Gretchen was in disbelief at what she was seeing and hearing. She was hesitant to answer him and give him credence.

  “Hello, I am Gretchen. Who is we? Where am I? Who brought me here and what’s going on?

  “I will attempt to answer your questions in order ma’am. Yes, I know your name is Gretchen. The “we” is me and Marty, your father. You are in eastern New York, Latitude 42.031097, Longitude -79.497784, at Halaby estate. Ms. Likvold has kidnapped your father and in turn, Mr. Sullivan, business partner of your father’s, has kidnapped you. You are being held as ransom for your father’s work, which Mr. Sullivan is seeking to stop. We are all in incredible danger. Many secrets lie here. I wish to tell you more, but they will be checking your room soon and I must return into hiding. Know that you are always being watched. Your father made sure you will always have a guardian angel. I shall return when I know plans to get you out of Mr. Sullivan’s clutches. Goodbye for now, Gretchen.”

  Chimera retracted his claws and held out his paw for her to grasp, a symbol of trust. She slowly reached out and grasped it. A light trill came from Chimera until footsteps coming down the hall alerted him.

  He broke their contact and raced across the room. He leaped and swung his tail over his head, brushed the dust off the camera lens, shut the vent swiftly and disappeared out of sight. The guard unlocked the room and entered looking about the room, but Gretchen had gotten back into bed and pulled the covers over her, appearing to be fast asleep. The man checked the camera, then exited. Chimera wished the once-scared, frightened Gretchen would find reason to hope again. She smiled as she nuzzled her pillow, shaking off the fantastic nature of information she had learned and gradually dozed off to sleep as shadows danced in her room.

  . . . .

  Marty was fuming! Mr. Sullivan still had Gretchen captive. The fact that Mr. Sullivan thought he could t
rick him or force him to cave in was infuriating. The last few days he had worked tirelessly, defiantly, completing the units Mr. Sullivan was so desperate to stop.

  Marty kept watch as he worked, he knew things were drawing to a close, and he didn’t want any surprises. He just wanted to leave and return to his Metal Mayhem shop with Gretchen. If he was paid again by Ms. Likvold, great, if not he really didn’t care.

  Unlike previous projects he’d worked on with her she had a sentry watching him build the last five units, occasionally asking questions. It really didn’t matter to him whether anyone watched him, but for what purpose, he wondered.

  In his last communication with Chimera, the monkey had informed him that Mr. Sullivan wasn’t set to release Gretchen until an informant named Stratus found the trail of the Butcher. From Marty’s perspective, it didn’t benefit him to stop production now, but if this Stratus was in pursuit of the Butcher, Marty could slow things down a bit.

  He had already finished the last unit Ms. Likvold commanded and he had sent a hold pattern command to Chimera until further notice. He was fast asleep, getting much needed rest when the intercom woke him.

  “Mr. Naublock, I need to see you in the lab, immediately.”

  “Whatever it is it can wait, I need sleep. I’m not one of your robots you know.”

  “I don’t care what you need. I’m not paying you to sleep or talk, so shut it and get down here.”

  “You know you’ll catch more flies with honey. I’m on my way, I’ll get there when I get there. My weary bones are protesting.”

  Marty heard the intercom switch off. “You damn old hag,” he uttered under his breath, followed by several more curses, then rolled slowly out of bed. Drearily he put on his spectacles and yawned as he shuffled his feet. The lock popped open on the door and he was escorted back up to the lab doors. Marty let out a series of slow yawns and stretched as he slowly walked to an enraged Ms. Likvold. Her back was to Marty and the guard that had escorted him. He listened closely to see what had her so angry.