The Second Rising

by Kevin Douglas

  This assured him extra time and made things difficult were she to try and call the BOTS back to base with an abort command.

  The Butcher then closed the script and embedded it into the system. He opened up the system settings and proceeded to Cache Systems and Information Dumps.

  In the interest of not wasting product, the systems allowed a virtual run on product. The virtual run allowed a check of all phases of the robots build, only pulling in the units’ parameters and testing each line in the production’s run synchronization with each other. It was meant for testing once or twice during which the robots’ personality and information would be put into an info dump to be analyzed later if there were problems.

  If none arose, they would be destroyed immediately if no analysis were needed. The Butcher changed this process to be run on each unit hereafter, and at each info dump, the personality and production properties would be emailed to a vault up north. He would steal her army even after he had left this place behind. He didn’t care if she had these personality copies as well. They would be a worthless pile of smoldering garbage if his plan succeeded.

  The Butcher then accessed the virtual run screen, and the system prompted him to input the desired number to test the system. The butcher inputted the number 2,600,000 and hit enter.

  A large exclamation mark appeared then shrunk to display a message, Vault One Only Contains 1,791,483 units. Do you wish to test all units? The Butcher waited before hitting enter. He brushed back his wrist communicator and began tapping a sequence of buttons until a chime sounded from his wrist confirming his data vault was open and ready for transmission.

  The Butcher’s hands glided swiftly to the terminal’s keys and hit enter to confirm a virtual test run of all personality units in Vault One. The amount of data was enormous and would certainly be detected, so he went into its communication settings and disabled the outgoing data monitor for this station only.

  He then input a password to confirm. When Ms. Likvold hunted for the person responsible, she would still know it was him, but the Butcher didn’t care if she discovered it later; in the next hour she would know his intentions.

  The data transfer would take approximately four hours, but fortunately it could run in the background. The Butcher minimized the sequence and moved to lock the screen within the system but was prompted with an unexpected error code Alert, no facial data for BOT 2 through 1,791,483. Virtual sequence cannot complete without any data for this last step.

  Confused and worried, the Butcher quickly tapped the keys to access the folder containing all the facial scans when he heard laughing from behind him. He swiveled and stabbed out his hand to grasp who was hiding behind him. The Butcher grasped the human by the throat and lifted him off the floor, holding the man in his out stretched arm and began to squeeze.

  “You! Your kind aren’t welcome in my world!”

  Choking as he spoke, Marty replied, “Funny, I was thinking the same thing.”

  Not liking Marty’s attempt at sarcasm, the Butcher began to squeeze the man’s throat harder, a faint crunch was heard as he spoke. “You picked a bad time to interrupt me. I think you shall die now so you can’t tell Mommy about what I’m doing here.”

  Marty knew he had only moments to live. Spit dribbled out of his mouth as he struggled to breathe and even think, his muscles not quite coordinated. “I… hhh… you.”

  “Speak up! I can’t hear you, you disgusting human.”

  “I..hel …u.”

  “Hurry, speak, you’re dying metal man.”

  Marty began to beat on the Butcher’s wrist to no avail, only eating up what oxygen he had left. His muscles began to spasm and twitch. He used his last bit of strength to blurt out the words he was trying to say. “I..cn..hlp..you.”

  “Oh you can, huh? Let’s see,” said the Butcher sarcastically as he released his grip, sending the man’s body crashing to floor.

  Marty used what strength he had to minimize his body’s harm as it hit the floor, bending awkwardly. He gasped for air, feeling like he couldn’t catch his breath; each gulp of air burned as his neck expanded and stressed the already severely constricted vessels and tissue around his windpipe.

  The Butcher turned around and accessed the facial scans folder unworried for the moment about Marty’s position. The folder came up empty and a light bulb went off in the Butcher’s head.

  “You’ve done this, haven’t you?”

  He waited for Marty to answer, but when he attempted to speak, a series of squeaks and hums was heard instead. “Speak already, you worthless human. Where are the facial scans!?”

  As Marty struggled to rise to his knees, the Butcher swung to smack him in the face with a backhand, but inches away paused as Marty finally spoke.

  “Please, I can help. Yes, I have removed the scans, but I can cover for you, give you designs, and I’m guessing, most importantly, convince her to commence a production run immediately.”

  “Ha! Why would I need you for that? I will get things my way regardless.”

  “You need her not to ask questions about your immediate production run, or she’ll terminate it. Down the road, you will want upgrades, modifications, advantages. I can give you those. You do need me.”

  “Maybe. Where are the facial scans?”

  “They are gone, I wished for her not to have these. It allowed her to blend her BOTS in among us humans. I couldn’t have that.”

  Not sure how the Butcher would take this news, Marty prepared to run and hide under some of the machinery.

  The Butcher lowered his arm and returned to the terminal and closed the facial scan folder, which returned him to the virtual test run screen. He clicked override, and the system prompted him again, Override All Sculpting of Facial Features and Body Type? He tapped yes. For This Unit Only or All 1,791,483 Units? He selected all units and watched as the errors disappeared and the system began virtually processing all units, sending the dump data for each unit to the Butcher’s facility far away.

  “I don’t give a shit about facial sculpting or body builds! In fact, I want my monsters to be known, to strike fear and send all before them running. As for you, I think I may have a use for you. Damn it, I was hoping you would be my first kill in the new body. Oh well, there’s plenty more to come. Go convince Ms. Likvold of my production run, and in exchange, I will set you free from her. You’re my servant now.”

  Marty stumbled to his feet and staggered out across the production floor. However, the Butcher called out before Marty disappeared through the double doors. “Don’t forget to wipe off that dribble on your face, and don’t forget you have more to lose than your life, Mr. Naublock. Poor Gretchen would be so disappointed if you disobeyed me and got her killed, too.”

  Marty gritted his teeth, swallowed his words, and exited the lab to find Ms. Likvold.

  The Butcher wasted no time in Marty’s absence. His plan was going to happen regardless of Marty’s persuasive talents on Ms. Likvold. The Butcher pulled up the production system while the virtual diagnostic ran in the background. He didn’t have time to waste; the assembly wasn’t flawless, but he wasn’t going to waste time trying to perfect every small glitch.

  The Butcher’s fingers dashed in a blur across the metal keys with a hum, quickly pulling up live production, the systems prompted him with a question. How many units in this run? The Butcher inputted five hundred and hit enter.

  Run with Current Parameters or Run with an Archived Features Package? The Butcher tapped, Run with Current Parameters, giving them similar upgrades and benefits that the Butcher had just received on his latest rebirth. The Mimetite infused weaponry and specific upgrades to mechanical features made this new run of BOTS a dangerous opponent. The system prompted him with one last question. Commence Production Run Immediately or On a Desired Schedule/Date?

  The Butcher tapped on, Commence Run Immediately. “Bring on the soldiers!”

  Immediately chimes sounded at each assembly line section, followed by an increasi
ngly louder hum as machines spun up and arms began grabbing the inventory from stock. The Butcher’s servants were being born piece by piece. The Butcher felt relief wash over him.

  Finally, he would be free to wreak havoc and claim what he felt was his. He’d waited years for this, but first he needed to make the call to set the ball in motion. After his call, his soldiers would be ready for war, and he would give them their first taste of battle.

  The Butcher practically bounced with anticipation. The look on Ms. Likvold’s face when he told her of his betrayal would be a cherished one. He opened communications with all six of his operatives on his wrist communicator.

  Since his return to Ms. Likvold’s plantation factory, Staff Sergeant Baxter had ordered alert and ready status and given each of his subordinate BOTS a crew of human guardsmen. Each BOT was assigned a section of the city around the perimeter to hold position.

  They had followed this command at a date and time the Butcher had given to them before his departure from them days ago.

  National Guard movements out of the chain command would be detected, so the window was small for them to act before Staff Sergeant Baxter’s orders were investigated. He feared only one man in the DC area.

  This man was the only one who knew of their existence, and he was about to contain that threat before the man of power reached out for help from a familiar foe.

  The Butcher spoke, and his subjects listened. “Staff Sergeant. Baxter, this is your leader. Have your men been put into position?”

  “Yes sir, they’re ready. Just give the word.”

  “I will have your first wave of reinforcements in about one hour. You will be five hundred strong at your peak. It should be more than enough. Let’s make a bang, soldiers! Sound off one by one if you are in ready status.”

  “Victor is ready, sir!”

  “Henry is a go, sir!”

  “Birch is ready!”

  “Clive is here and ready, sir!”

  “Brian is ready for go!”

  Having heard all his men respond, the Butcher was ready to give the command they had all been waiting for.

  “Excellent! I will see you all soon. Hold your ground and kill anything that moves. Rendezvous coordinates after your mission is accomplished are 63.7467° N, 68.5170° W. Project Flury Net is authorized. Deploy ammunitions. This transmission is over.”

  The Butcher looked out at the machines that hummed, buzzed, and filled the room with heat. The cooling system kicked on to expel the escalating temperatures. The Butcher hoped this alert didn’t tip Ms. Likvold off, just yet.

  He looked toward the end of the production line at the finished units standing at attention, their numbers growing by each passing minute. Facial features and body mapping were the most time-consuming process of the build. Since this step was being skipped, thanks to Marty, the units were churned out more quickly than expected. The Butcher exited the lab to gear up. He headed down one floor, taking the steps several at a time, finally leaping down the last few steps.

  He entered the armory and grabbed several large knives, tucking them into several sheaths built into his clothing. He grabbed a handful of Mimetite incendiary detonation units. They were about the size of a quarter, and one inch thick.

  He yanked out several of his favorite handguns and holstered them away as well, finally grabbing a fully automatic rifle. The rifle was new gear; it contained Mimetite-tipped rounds that the Butcher was eager to test. He wanted to be the first to use them and see their destructive power.

  He grabbed a handful of odds and ends then exited the room leaving it ajar for his men to pillage on their exit. Laden with fifteen pounds of gear, he effortlessly trekked up the stairs and back onto the production floor. There were now dozens upon dozens of units at the ready, waiting for his commands. The Butcher strode over to his soldiers, his head held high, feeling pride like that of a father. Before he reached his men, commotion was heard outside the lab in the hallway. He heard a loud voice, clearly that of Ms. Likvold. She burst into the lab and Marty followed on her coattail, his face showing timid confidence behind her.

  “Are you mad! This is what you do when I bring you back to life!”

  “This is your army Evelyn, well part of them anyhow. I am starting production to be prepared for your plans. You knew I was mad when you saved me. I was a pile of metal, junk littered among the corpses of our kind. You knew I was mad when you regenerated me just years ago, then again days ago. Why? Because I am the man for the job. I get results.”

  “Cut the shit Butcher! Marty told me what you’ve been up to. Did you think I’d just let you walk out and take my army with you?”

  Marty, feeling confident when he entered the room with Evelyn, now receded behind her as she continued to walk toward the Butcher.

  The Butcher stared Marty down. “Stupid Marty, always making an idiot of himself. He doesn’t value human lives any more than I do I guess.”

  The Butcher’s focus moved back onto Ms. Likvold. “Forget what he told you because that doesn’t matter. We are after the same result Evelyn. We have no love for them. Only difference is on the pace and scope of the plan. I have removed that roadblock between us. The assault is already begun. Our six operatives in the guard as we speak have detonated multiple targets all around the DC area, enveloping it. We must act now! There’s no turning back. I have given you the first strike.”

  “Bullshit, you wouldn’t dare! They were to wait for my orders.”

  “If you don’t believe me, check the satellite feeds over the DC area.”

  Ms. Likvold broke eye contact with the Butcher to access a terminal near her. She pulled up satellite imagery from the area and saw bright orange balls of fire encircling Washington DC, cutting it off from the rest of Maryland. As she zoomed in, she saw the flames flicker and burn as buildings nearby were engulfed, a haze covering the city. She looked up with a face of shock and outrage, turning to anger.

  The Butcher spoke first. “This is what we both wanted. You and I are quite alike. We are both risk takers and leaders, tenacious and wildly dangerous. Join me and fight now, or turn your back like a coward, as Mr. Sullivan did and watch it burn.”

  “You left off intelligent in your traits, which you are obviously not. I will not join you! You are my puppet! I pull the strings, and this is my army! They only obey me! I won’t let you set a foot outside this lab. You will be torn apart by my hands, cast back into a sequence of code, deleted by me forever.”

  “You have made a poor decision. You will regret not taking my offer.” The Butcher stepped forward towards his BOTS standing at attention.

  As he approached, the BOTS knelt before him, like a wave of dominos falling to one knee. The Butcher glared and smiled an evil smile as he reveled in this moment.

  A shocked Ms. Likvold looked puzzled, angry, and tried to conceal her emotions. She wanted to give the Butcher the satisfaction, but it was too late. Her face said everything. The Butcher started at her, letting the moment soak in. Priceless.

  Ms. Likvold spoke out to her army who were still on a knee before the Butcher. “Rise army! You answer to no one but me. He is no one to you. He has betrayed us all.” Her words, loud and clear, echoed in the space, followed by nothing but silence. Not a single soldier had moved, or even looked in her direction.

  “So be it Butcher!” Evelyn screamed as she sprinted toward The Butcher, throwing back her long coat and drawing a gun from her holster.”

  The Butcher spoke quickly to his men giving them their first order. “Rise, soldiers! Operation Flury Net has begun. Arm yourself and join your brothers-in-arms.”

  All the BOTS stood in unison and ran out of lab with the exception of a dozen BOTS. As Evelyn fired at the Butcher, all twelve soldiers reached out and grabbed her limbs, holding her down. The Butcher had anticipated her bullets and had ducked and rolled out of their way.

  He now rose and met her eyes, grinning. She fought the men holding her back, hacking at their limbs and tearing them off, he
r sights solely on the Butcher. Her eyes projected a wild rage within, her mind and body in a crazed like state, unhinged.

  The Butcher knew the twelve men couldn’t contain her long. They had been programmed not to harm her. He enjoyed the moment a few seconds longer, savoring it, taunting her as she struggled to free herself. In all the chaos, Marty quickly sprinted out in the opposite direction, knowing the damaged BOTS were releasing deadly toxins into the air.

  The Butcher spoke to her one last time. “Goodbye Evelyn, we shall see each other again someday perhaps. When we do, you will be kneeling to me amongst the many, like a commoner, a nobody.”

  The Butcher turned away from her as if she posed no threat and slowly walked out of the lab, unafraid. Crazed screams erupted from Ms. Likvold as she rose from the pile of broken metal soldiers. Parts of her captors were ripped and tossed across the floor, their fluids spewing out of their broken, cracked limbs.

  CHAPTER 37

  P inpricks of light stabbed at his eyes as he blinked slowly, then more rapidly as his world gradually, painfully, came into focus. A low rumble jolted Stratus and shook the surroundings where he lay. As his mind began to work again, he realized he was in an isolation pod, one similar to the one he and Cromwell had visited nearly a week ago.

  Things hadn’t turned out too well for his boss after that meeting, so needless to say, he wasn’t too comfortable being in one again, especially against his will. He should have been more on guard at his meeting with the President. He hadn’t anticipated that President Flury would ignore his warnings and he hadn’t expected the President to give him so much information either.

  Stratus attempted to sit up, but his mind was still fuzzy and his coordination even worse. He pushed through the dizziness and stabilized in an upright position when he heard a series of cracks and booms. Stratus felt the vibration through the floor and it threw off his balance, causing him to push out his arms to stabilize himself.