The Second Rising

by Kevin Douglas

  “All five targets on your list have been completed and deployed back to you days ago. You were to return immediately after the last unit was integrated. Please tell me there isn’t a problem Butcher.”

  Silence filled the lab as she listened to what he assumed was the Butcher’s response. The guard that had escorted Marty was still standing beside him, quiet as a mouse, clearly afraid to tell Ms. Likvold of their presence fearing interrupting her.

  She spoke excitedly again. “If you’ve completed your assignment and there weren’t any problems, why am I getting a call from you? Why are you not here in front of me and why on earth are you requesting that another unit be built, prepped, and ready to go?”

  Marty waited while Ms. Likvold listened to the Butcher. Marty looked out of the corner of his eye at the guard, surprised the man hadn’t interrupted her yet. Certainly, the conversation she was having was one she would have wished was private.

  She waved her hands heatedly and interjected. “Matthew Davis wasn’t on the list. Who do you think you are placing him as a target!? Your job is to follow orders. You should have long been back with our first assets in place. Now we have a mess on our hands, one we can’t afford at this time.”

  Silence followed her reproach and she became heated, pacing side to side. She didn’t notice either one of them in the room. The guard raised his hand to grab her attention but froze when she quickly responded again.

  “You have to be fucking kidding! You pursued Davis, identified yourself, had the opportunity to kill him and then let him free? I thought you were the Butcher? Now we have a whistle blower, no matter whether he looks or sounds crazy, he’ll talk to someone you idiot!”

  She listened once again and heard something that set her on edge. She grabbed a tool lying on a work bench nearby, hurled it into some of the equipment and shattered a glass cabinet, sending pieces flying all over the floor.

  “Your incompetence is staggering! Now, we have damn Staff Sergeant Baxter to worry about! From now on you follow my orders or you’ll be melted down!”

  Ms. Likvold finally swiveled in Marty’s direction. She walked toward them, staring at the floor, unaware they were there. “Find Staff Sergeant Baxter and put a bullet in his head. Don’t screw it up or I’ll put one in your head myself. I’ll have the replacement unit for you completed within ten hours. I’ll determine your role going forward after all of this is done.”

  Ms. Likvold’s eyes darted up with anger when she noticed the guard and Marty standing silent before her.

  “Do you comprehend, Butcher?”

  An assumed yes was given by the Butcher and she ended the call, then immediately questioned Marty’s escort.

  “Let me ask you. What do I pay you for, Mr. Miller?”

  “Internal security Ms. Likvold.”

  “Oh, strange then, that you’d be listening to my business affairs and allowing our guest here to hear whatever he wishes. I pay you to defend this building by any means necessary, so I don’t have to, and now you let Marty hear things he shouldn’t know. Hand me your firearm.”

  “Excuse me ma’am?”

  “I said hand me your firearm, now!” said Ms. Likvold wildly.

  The guard unbuttoned his holster, drew his weapon, and handed it over to Ms. Likvold. Marty nervously awaited his fate squinting his eyes tightly.

  She quickly swiveled the weapon in her hand and opened fire, the rounds deafening in the stark enclosed space. Marty plugged his ears as she fired in a casual upward arc, hitting Mr. Miller’s legs, torso, chest, and head, the blood misting on the lab doors behind until the entire clip emptied. The man’s body crumbled and fell lifelessly to the ground with a thud.

  Marty fully opened his eyes, and to his surprise he was unharmed. Ms. Likvold tossed the handgun down onto the ground toward the man. It bounced and clattered, skidding across the ground, but Marty’s ears didn’t register the noise. His ears still rang loudly from the nearly point bank shots. Ms. Likvold spoke to him, but all he heard was low muttering, until he flexed his jaw muscles and swallowed deeply.

  “It looks like your work’s not done, you’ll be with us for a bit longer Mr. Naublock. Don’t try to delay or screw up this next unit, or you’ll meet this man’s fate,” she gestured to the man lying on the floor. “You’ll have a monitor during this build again to learn the process. After this unit we’ll perfect a more automated system. So be smart about things Marty. When we do automate you’ll be just as replaceable as the next human.”

  CHAPTER 25

  W et, congested roads made for a challenging drive as Leo raced to the airport, barely making it on time. Leo wished to fly with the Mimetite samples but received unwanted attention from security when checking his bags. They instructed him to abandon the rocks or face catching another flight, which Leo couldn’t do either. He sprinted to an in terminal shipping desk and expedited the material to his lab at New Wave. It cost him an arm and a leg in shipping fees, but he didn’t have a choice.

  His last-minute boarding was stressful, but he had made his flight and now he could relax. He loved the window seat and always booked his flights, so he could have an unimpeded view of the beautiful landforms and cloudscapes.

  For now, he watched the rainy drenched tarmac as the luggage was loaded quickly by soggy dripping men outside. He spaced out while looking, thinking of what his return to America meant, a quest to find information on his father’s last days and whether he was still alive.

  He would do anything to have his father back, and he would stop at nothing if it meant seeing him again. Additionally, he was in evident danger, as he had witnessed yesterday firsthand, from pressure for his presentation at New Wave and beginning a complicated working relationship with Mrs. Sullivan.

  Fresh in his mind was Mr. Sullivan’s letter. If Leo didn’t side with him, what would Sullivan really do to him if he didn’t cooperate?

  Leo’s concentration was broken by a sweet voice next to him. “You sure do love those window seats. I seem to disappear when you start looking out that small oval every time we’re on a plane. What do you see out there that’s so exciting anyhow, Leo? It’s raining cats and dogs.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry Sara. I just have a lot on my mind. I just love looking at the view, maybe it’s the photographer in me. I get to soar like a bird for a few hours and I don’t want to miss a thing.”

  “You’re a strange one, Leo,” said Sarafina with a smile. “I can’t stand to fly, I pray for the landing. It can’t come soon enough for me. Don’t worry about me, I’ll just close my eyes and try and doze off during the flight, so look all you want dreamer. I need you for the takeoff though cowboy. Don’t go tellin’ anyone I’m afraid of flying now.”

  Sarafina surprised Leo by reaching out, grabbing his hand, and pulling it onto her lap during the take off. After the rush of takeoff, she released her grip as the rhythmic whirr of the engines took over the cabin. Sarafina grabbed her mini pillow and dozed off.

  Leo sat, thinking once again as they climbed into the rain clouds. His view was gone in the fog. A fog that jogged his memory of his dream last night, and the Butcher within it. The year on the file seemed impossible, regardless, the Butcher seemed formidable. He would be a survivor amongst his peers. Leo thought about his ideas and how small they seemed in comparison. If he were to build such a robot from scratch, it would take an eternity to code and file. Then it hit him. He didn’t need to start from scratch. He had the fully coded software.

  Leo pulled out the tablet and looked at the filing system for the Butcher. He could make something from this, something the farthest from its original intentions, a reasoning, caring, compassionate entity; all the while he could give it the tools to wreak havoc on any of its kind. Leo saw things that weren’t explored, ideas that would make what he was creating more powerful, a master of invention, able to bring any ill-actioned BOT to its knees.

  Leo believed in having fail safe backups and aces up his sleeve. He wasn’t sure the Sullivan’s creations bo
re ill will, but he’d have something to counter if they did. Something no one would expect because no one would know its coding or capability until he was convinced he would forge the unit. If things went south with either Mrs. or Mr. Sullivan, this could be something that could save him and Sarafina.

  Leo worked for hours looking for back door coding and ways to exploit and disrupt every aspect possible of the system before him. When he was finished, he would have a master key for their systems.

  Not only would it be successful at disabling them, but Leo also put in plans to improve its core components. It would run on fiber optics, its exterior coating an ultra-light ceramic polymer capable of deflecting rounds but flexible so as not to inhibit movement. He wondered what he might use to accomplish such a compound when he remembered he had already read of one.

  Leo had looked up the Kyanite mineral his father had mentioned in his letter, a mineral he’d stated that Mr. Sullivan was interested in and which may give him leverage. One of its key attributes was its ability to form ultra-hard ceramic-like materials capable of handling high temperatures and dissipating any heat quickly.

  This was perfect for keeping electrical components cool and also segmented, as it was itself nonconductive. Leo became engrossed in his coding modification and upgrade ideas for hardware. He’d needed some help with the Kyanite exterior plating and he knew just the man for that, Mr. Naublock.

  If he believed Mr. Sullivan, Marty was detained by Mrs. Sullivan and his services would be easily obtained. Leo had to be careful though, unless he was able to separate Marty from her, these ideas would remain in his head.

  Leo broke free from the computer for a minute, blinked his eyes to help them adjust to the dim interior of the plane cabin, and looked over to the sleeping Sarafina. She was so beautiful. He brushed curls of hair from her face and stared, then turned back to the computer with a smile.

  As Leo delved into the Butcher’s decision-making system, he found a hierarchy to a complicated decision tree. What surprised him was that each branch contained a massive algorithm. Each formula didn’t seem to terminate a defined answer, result, or singular response code, instead, it passed to the next branch.

  Following this thinking logic was nearly impossible, unless you could decipher multiple algorithms in real time and follow their path. Navigating through this sub directory would be extremely cumbersome and inevitably unproductive. Leo decided that instead of chasing his tail following algorithms, he’d take a different approach.

  Despite Leo’s brilliance, the truth was he didn’t fully comprehend its complex decision network, and neither would anyone else. To achieve some order, Leo needed to define the traits he wished the unit would adhere to, a set of instructions to rule by. Leo would splice this framework into the hierarchy that existed, these would be master rules to be considered as each decision was made.

  If it sought malice, these rules would steer it away from a sinister path. These rules would be its moral code. With the current complicated pathways, he doubted it had any room for moral fortitude and its decision-making was geared toward its own survival at any cost necessary.

  With that came unpredictability. Leo’s rules would help curb that. After inserting his coding, an error popped up on the screen, stating it had a conflicting exception file. So, the Butcher does have a leash.

  Leo pulled up the conflicting exception file and examined it; this file contained an implementation date from this year. The author once again listed as Mrs. Sullivan. Does she want control of the Butcher out of fear or just to establish dominance?

  He wanted to know more, so he entered deeper into the coding file and found that it looked like she wanted a little of both. Mrs. Sullivan had a similar concern about its random, almost conscious decision-making ability. How could she have ever hoped to tame or control this creation? And, if those steps were necessary, why not just start over and recreate him differently?

  The exception file was the opposite of Leo’s rules list. Hers provided exceptions to whatever decision that was already formed, mostly just allowing her the final call and rule over deadly force and agenda. Leo’s rules would be a part of its decision process, more symbiotic, and it wouldn’t carry a totalitarian dominance. Leo didn’t hesitate pressing delete. Her exception file was no longer binding the unit to her. It was a free form now, only bound by Leo’s moral code.

  Leo worried about the software’s potential; if it were allowed access to the Internet or even a LAN network, it could be transferred very easily. Nothing would stop it from binding itself to whatever it chose to, software didn’t need a body. Leo disabled the network card, making transfer available only through direct connection, and a final precaution was a password.

  The password would only allow activation of the software when a password was input. The password would complete the final initiation sequencing and was required to fill a purposely placed gap in code. Now what to name it? As Leo stroked his blonde goatee, he considered naming it after his father, but to Leo that felt like that was in memory of and he refused to concede his father’s death.

  Its design wouldn’t be to fool or disguise, it would look as human as possible, but it would be abnormally precise and have a smooth metallic surface. It would distinctly be a robot. Leo thought of the Kyanite material he would use for its exterior and its distinctly blue color. Leo backspaced Butcher and entered its new name Blue and typed the password to fill in the gap as prevalentBlue.

  Thinking over all his ideas for Blue, he had a feeling of nostalgia. How much like his father he had turned out to be. This would be a better, new, more efficient BOT. This would be his legacy.

  A wave of turbulence abruptly shook the plane and broke his reverie of fulfillment. He realized his head was literally in the clouds as he glanced out his window at the passing rain clouds, mixed with patches of sunlight peeking through. Why am I being so paranoid?

  He had no proof this BOT was malicious or aggressive, despite the terrifying name. All he had seen was a very aggressive business couple at odds with each other’s goals with few mutual interests.

  Although the Butcher’s programing did have an extensive combat file. What could he even do with this new creation? Yes it was uniquely different, but ultimately a majority of its core was authored by Mrs. Sullivan. If he did try to produce Blue, it would be using partially-stolen coding and it would disgrace New Wave ruining his career, not to mention the Sullivan’s would certainly pursue action or even violence.

  His only option was to collaborate with Mrs. Sullivan on the project, and while he had chosen to work with her, his help was only in return for information on his father. He would never show her these plans. He wouldn’t show anyone.

  Leo saved the file and closed it out, then put his New Wave tablet into his carry-on bag. He watched the storm ragging on outside and thought of weapons and defenses for Blue. Leo couldn’t turn off his mind about Blue. It was so fantastic. Despite all the excitement he’d never see it complete. Perhaps he wasn’t like his father.

  He wouldn’t have a legacy to share with the world after all. The fasten seatbelt light came on and the pilot announced their descent; he had been working longer than he realized.

  The pilot finished his salutation with, “If New York is your hometown, welcome home. For everyone else, enjoy your stay.”

  Leo loved his New York state and the words left him with a smile, but the pilot’s words of welcome home struck him and made him recall something from his father’s letter. He pulled the tablet back out of his back pack and loaded the read me file that contained his father’s letter. He scrolled down near the bottom and read it aloud quietly.

  “I hope my mind shall live on to guide you. Remember to choose wisely and remember home is where the heart is. ;-)” Leo now realized what his father was saying in that sentence. He still had something to tell Leo, something he didn’t dare put on the memory card for fear they may find it.

  Leo spoke out loud to himself again. “I read you loud an
d clear. I’m coming home.”

  “You read who loud and clear? And you’re going home where? You’re freaking me out. You just talked to a seatback Leo.” said a confused Sarafina.

  “Oh, I’m sorry Sara. After I visit New Wave I have somewhere I must go before I choose to accept Mrs. Sullivan’s proposal. Hope you’re up for a road trip We’re going to see the home where I grew up.

  CHPATER 26

  A s promised to his Staff Sergeant Baxter, Matthew would pursue proof of his suspicions that several of his squad were not human. Baxter wasn’t happy that Matthew was investigating things, it had been done against orders from above, but he knew Baxter couldn’t stop him from poking around. After Matthew’s meeting with his superior he exited the base and checked his watch, he still had thirty minutes to spare for his waiting cab, but the man had left.

  “Son of a….”

  After waiting forty minutes a new cab arrived and he retrieved his car from the downtown impound lot. Matthew finally called his wife, explaining away his absence as a training exercise, then apologized and told her he had some duties over the next few days.

  His wife wasn’t one to be fooled, she began asking questions to which Matthew had few responses. He firmly laid down the law, stating that the drills they were doing weren’t ordinary and their preparedness was needed. After all Matthew wasn’t about to tell his wife he suspected robots were overtaking his squad.

  Over the next few days, he interviewed the families of those guardsmen who had returned first. The men had nearly a week to interact with their families and he was curious to see how the families were doing.

  Unlike his first visit over a week ago where the families were just happy to have their missing loved ones return, this visit was different. This time when asked, their spouses stated they were acting abnormally, with little affection and what seemed to be a loss of memory.