Simple
Page 5
“The NIP, of course, that should totally work!” I said with exaggerated enthusiasm as I tugged the bottle from Mic’s hand. “Oh, sorry Hailey, the NIP is the neurological IP address.”
“Right, of course. I knew that.” The liquor was getting to me, and I was finding myself actually interested in this geek speak. Well, not exactly interested in the geek speak. It was more like I was interested in the geek that was speaking. He continued to explain his theories and his findings, and I continued to check out his bone structure – and fine bone structure it was.
“So you can shut down individual simps!” I stated louder than I’d meant to. “That’s totally fantastic…can we go smoke now?”
“Jesus Hailey, you’re lit!” Giz said giggling.
“And you, good sir, should drink more than orange soda. It’s a lot more fun to drink this!” I said pointing at the bottle. He shook his head and then yawned. “Right, because you’ll be feeling so much better than I will in the morning.”
“Oh believe me, I’ll sleep good tonight and that is well worth the hangover in the morning, Red.”
“Don’t call me that. It’s Giz to you!” he said, still laughing.
“I’m sorry to be so distracting you guys. I’m really trying to follow, but my head is fiercely buzzing, and I want a cigarette, a shower, and a pillow in that order.”
“All right, c’mon, I’ll take you downstairs for a smoke, because I don’t want to smoke by Giz. He hates it. Then you can go get your shower and we can finish our conversation.”
“Why aren’t you as buzzed as I am?” I asked, realizing that he wasn’t even slurring his words.
“Because you drank most of the bottle, lady.”
“Well, fine and dandy. Is it gone?”
“You can have the last sip.” He handed me the bottle and I turned it upright, allowing the last of the liquid to do its job. I intended to sleep and not dream of broken neighbors, or scary shark versions of myself. I didn’t give a damn if I looked like a fool in front of these two, because they were dorks, and even though Mic was very good looking, he still pissed me off just by being who he was.
“I feel like you don’t like me,” he said, after we’d left Giz and entered the elevator. I looked up at the ceiling to avoid his eyes.
“It’s not that I don’t like you, it’s just that you represent the loss of everything I ever loved.” Booze was making me more blunt than usual.
“I’m sorry,” he said, as the elevator opened. I didn’t say anything more as we walked down the hallway to the main entrance of the hospital. The double doors opened automatically and we stepped out front. I instinctively felt for my slingshot, which was in my back pocket. If I needed to use it, it wouldn’t matter how much I’d had to drink. Simps had a way of making me alert regardless of my mental condition. I took a quick survey and didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Mic handed me a cigarette and lit it for me by cupping one hand over the lighter. The wind was blowing and it was still extremely warm.
“So Mic, I’m curious,” I said, exhaling smoke upwards. “How does it feel to be the fallen angel?”
“I’m no angel, and I never was,” he said flatly.
“Well, you were definitely society’s golden child, and it must be strange to be where you are now.”
“I never cared about being anything to society. I only cared about making an impact in the scientific world.”
“I thought you were a programmer,” I said.
“I am. I’m also a scientist. Didn’t the media cover that?”
“I guess I wasn’t paying attention,” I said.
“Well, we see what we want to see.”
“I guess you’re right about that.” If we were having a pissing contest, no one was winning. I didn’t really feel like arguing with him anymore. The alcohol had relaxed my nerves enough that I just wanted to relax and smoke my cigarette. I’d pay for it tomorrow, but for now it was exactly what I needed.
“So are you and Giz the only ones here in the hospital?”
“No, there are two others. A lady named Barbara, in her late forties I believe. She was a patient before the simps turned. A young boy named Jacob who is with her. I guess his parents were killed trying to get here.” He nodded. “That’s a shame. Poor kid. How old is he?”
“I’m not sure, but I would guess about nine or ten.”
“Where are they?”
“They stick to themselves, and they stay in the ICU area.”
“Are you sure there are no others?”
I thought about that for a moment. “No, actually I’m not. I haven’t explored every floor, and Barbara actually found me while I was scavenging in the doctor lockers.”
“We should probably do a full search of the facility to see if there are any others.” I thought about this and agreed with him. If there were, we needed to know so, that we could protect our resources.
“So, out of curiosity, do you have any idea why the simps won’t enter this place?” I asked, flicking ashes in the wind.
“I do, actually. It’s a statistical application.”
“A what?”
“Simps are designed to break down statistical data for the most probable outcome. Their rationality indicates that any association with a medical facility correlates with a less than probable life expectancy rate. To cut to the chase, their brains are wired in such a way that they figure anyone who is in the hospital is either sick or dying, and therefore not worth the effort to pursue.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, remembering Jacob’s words. He’d said he knew why the simps didn’t come inside the hospital. He’d said it was because of the math. I had to assume that his father had explained something in such a way that it related to mathematics.
“I’m not kidding you. You have to keep in mind that Sam Yen created a virus in wartime. He plotted the variables from both a tactical and economic perspective. If the actuarial value indicated that a hospital contained a certain number of healthy humans versus a certain number of sick ones…well, I guess the variable data suggested it wasn’t worth the risk.”
“So you mean to tell me that all human life is safe from these android zombies if we just stay in hospitals or medical facilities?”
“Not exactly. They are, by nature, built to evolve intellectually. I can only assume that, in time, they will discern that there are human life forms worthy of eradication inside these types of facilities.”
“Eradication? Ewe, you sound so clinically removed,” I said. I didn’t like the way he reduced human life to a statistic. I was more than that, and if he was trying to convince me of his empathy, he’d have to do better than that.
“I’m not trying to sound cold. You have to understand, I’m an analytical- minded person. It’s just my nature.”
Okay, I get that, but you need to work on your people skills.”
“So do you,” he said with a laugh. I exhaled the last hit off the cigarette and flicked the butt. I was done with this conversation. Despite the fact that Mic was pleasant on the eye, I’d reached my limit on human interaction for the day and was ready to go back to sleep. My body was demanding rest and I wasn’t going to argue. I hoped that the whiskey would knock me out and keep the nightmares at bay. I yawned and raised my arms up over my head in a deep stretch. Mic stepped on his cigarette. “Ready to go back inside?” he asked. I nodded and we walked in silence to the elevator. He told me that he was going to stay up late in the cafeteria with Giz so that they could get some more work done, and I said goodnight as the elevator door opened to take me down to the basement. The cafeteria was on the third floor so he would need to go in the opposite direction.
Back in the basement, I did a quick inventory of my supplies and then changed into an over-sized t-shirt I’d found in one of the rooms. It smelled a little stale, but I knew it was clean because I’d found it folded in a drawer. The sheets felt wonderful against my skin, but I told myself not to get used to it. In the back of my mind
, I knew that this couldn’t last. As I drifted off to sleep, Mic’s words came back to me… they are, by nature, built to evolve intellectually. I wanted and needed to be positive. I longed to find some semblance of hope before this android apocalypse destroyed me both emotionally and physically. I knew there was no way I could leave now. I wanted Mic and Giz to succeed and put an end to this mess – regardless of who was to blame for it all. I made up my mind to help them, or at least to try.
When I woke up the next morning, I was disoriented. It took me a second to register where I was and why my head hurt. The clock on the wall said it was just a little after eleven. I’d slept halfway through an entire day. My throat was scratchy, and I regretted the smoking as soon as I swallowed. It would be a while before I did that again. I threw my legs over the side of the bed and realized that I was alone in the room. Giz’s bed looked untouched. He’d probably stayed up all night with Mic, working on their code. Neither scenario really concerned me. In fact, I’d made up my mind that, as long as I was planning to stick around for a while, I might as well find quarters of my own. The hospital was a safe zone (at least for now) so there was no reason to stay down in the basement. I’d scout out a place that would give me the privacy I needed, after I got something to eat. After washing my face, brushing my teeth, and changing into some clean clothes, I collected all of my things, stuffed them back in my backpack, and slung it over my shoulder. I spent a little time scouting for a potential room for myself, and then I went up to the cafeteria in search of them.
When I arrived, I found the two men sitting on either side of a very hysterical Barbara. Her face was buried in her hands, and she was rocking back and forth muttering, “Oh God, please, please…no!”
“What’s going on?” I asked as I approached.
“Jacob’s gone missing,” said Giz.
“How long?” I asked, dropping my pack on an empty table.
“Sometime during the night. She woke up and he was gone. We heard her running down the halls screaming for him. We’ve all been looking for him ever since.” The woman moaned miserably. “It’s my fault, I should have known.”
“Should have known what?” I asked.
“He said he wanted to get his hands on a good weapon.”
“What?” I felt my heart speed up in my chest.
“He watched you from the window last night, when you used your slingshot on Mic. He thought it was a good idea to have something more than a golf club. He wanted something that he could use to protect us.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and sighed raggedly. “I told him that we would look for something together in the morning because I was tired. He got so upset with me.” She trailed off and then covered her face. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed silently in her hands.
I looked from Giz to Mic, and both of them looked completely lost. I sighed loudly, unable to hide my agitation. “Has anyone looked outside?”
“No.” Giz and Mic said at the same time.
“Why not?”
“We just hadn’t gotten that far yet Hailey,” Mic said with an edge of irritation in his voice.
I pulled my slingshot from my pocket and turned to the door without saying another word. As I bounded down the halls I continued to call his name. Mic was running behind me, shouting for me to wait.
“I’m not slowing down, Mic. If you want to help, step it up.” I said this without looking over my shoulder. Why they hadn’t looked outside yet was beyond me. I ignored the elevator and pushed open the door to the stairwell. I took the stairs two at a time as he continued to speculate behind me.
“If there are any simps outside his odds of survival will be marginal.”
“Mic, do me a favor and shut the fuck up, okay?”
“Look, I don’t want anything to happen to the kid either. I am just stating the facts of the situation, and the risks associated with going out of the building during the day are not necessarily worth the repercussions! If the simps discover we are here and that we are not terminal, they will most likely storm the building. Do you understand that?”
I reached the bottom of the stairwell and pushed the heavy door, marked with a giant green number one. It opened to the lobby, just to the right of the main reception desk. The double doors were ten yards directly in front of me. I quickened my pace.
“Mic if you think I’m going to sit back while a child may be outside in need of help, you’re a bigger asshole than I thought. I’m all for saving my own skin, but he’s a kid – maybe nine or ten years old, and you’d just leave him out there?” He didn’t get the chance to answer.
“Get down!” I said in an urgent, low voice.
There were two men in maintenance clothing outside. Their backs were to the doors so they hadn’t seen us. I crawled behind the reception desk and quietly pulled open the bottom drawer. I needed something to use as a projectile. The only thing I found was a half-eaten energy bar and a box of medium ridiculously small binder clips. That wasn’t going to help. I turned around and sat with my back to the metal desk. My breath was ragged from the stairs. Mic was hunched over a hand-held tablet the size of a cell phone. His index finger was moving frantically over the screen. “What are you doing?” I whispered.
“If they’re simps, I’m going to attempt to shut them down. I made an adjustment to my app last night but I haven’t had a chance to test it. This is as good a time as any.”
“If it doesn’t work, you’d better be ready to run,” I said with a grunt as I pulled my knees up a little so that I could grab my knife from my boot. Just then I heard a “psst.” sound, which came from the doorway behind us. The door was cracked just a hair and I caught the distinct dark eye of a small child. A sense of relief flooded through me. Jacob was alive. He must have gotten stuck down here when he tried to go outside. I tapped Mic’s back and motioned to the door. Mic gave a reassuring smile to the child and then raised his finger to his lips to tell him to be silent.
“Is it ready?” I asked as quietly as I could.
“Yes, but I’ll have to get a little closer I think.”
“I’ll back you,” I said.
“On three?” I nodded in agreement. On his count, we crawled out from behind the reception desk and began to slowly inch forward. I positioned myself to his left and ducked behind the first large chair I came too. Mic did the same on the opposite side. I held my breath and watched as he tapped twice on the little screen. The shorter of the two fell straight back, hitting his head on the entry doors, which caused them to open. The warm air rushed in and the second maintenance man stood in the doorway. I could see him clearly from where I sat, and just hoped he hadn’t spotted me yet. His head tilted back and forth reminding me of a dog responding to a strange sound. Mic was not visible from his position, but he looked up and I held up one finger to indicate that there was still one standing.
I gripped my knife tighter and watched Mic frantically moving his finger over the screen. The maintenance simp strode forward, stepping over his partner.
“Humans, I can sense your presence. If you are injured, I can assist you. Please come forward so that I can assess your level of injuries and ease your pain.”
Mic looked up at me, his face full of desperation and apology. He shook his head. His code wasn’t working. I exhaled a silent breath, and waved my hand signaling him to get further back to hide himself. The simp was moving closer. I positioned myself in a crouch and glanced back to make sure the door was closed to the small room that concealed Jacob. To my relief, it was closed. This simp wasn’t getting past me if I could help it. He was a big “man” with a goatee and a potbelly. I said a silent prayer, and then stood up. His emotionless eyes met mine, and then he lunged forward in my direction. His unnatural speed was something I’d anticipated. I threw my blade and it lodged in his beige uniform just below the place a human heart would be. His head did a strange up and down, jerking motion and a dark spot began to spread out. The biogenetic fluids used to protect the inner workings of a simp had
shocked me at first. In fact, the first time I took one down I was convinced I had killed a human, but the color isn’t quite the same. It’s much darker and thicker than human blood — like a mixture of black oil and old blood.
The simp reached down and pulled the blade from his abdomen, allowing it to drop to the floor. It continued forward in a labored gait. I was reminded of a late night zombie movie, and had to force back a wave of terror to get my body to move. “Get the knife Mic!” I yelled, as I began to move backwards. The thing continued to move closer, and out of my peripheral vision, I saw Mic scrambling to collect my blade. I felt the wall behind me and knew I had backed myself into a corner. In one blur of motion, the maintenance man was nose to nose with me. The surreal aspect of those deliberately yellowed teeth distracted my thoughts for a moment as it revealed them in an ugly snarl. I fought back the urge to beg for my life. This wasn’t a human being with a sense of compassion. There would be no mercy. The next thing I knew it had me by the throat and was raising me off the ground. I was bracing my own hands around its thick wrist and trying desperately to get a breath of air in my lungs. I kicked my legs wildly hoping that I could get some leverage that would relieve the searing pain that my body was experiencing.
I was faintly aware of Mic’s presence behind him and Jacob’s screams. My vision dimmed just as it released its grip on my neck and I fell to the floor. The simp landed on top of me, his scratchy goatee resting on my cheek. I pushed with as much strength as I could manage and then Jacob and Mic were there to assist. I pulled myself up and gulped in several deep breaths. My lungs felt like they were on fire. “Can you move?” Mic asked urgently.
“Yes.” I croaked. “Just give me a second.”
“We don’t have one, Hailey. Give me your hand.” Jacob was yanking my knife out of the simp’s back as I got to my feet, and then I realized what Mic meant. The parking lot was filling with simps. It looked like an angry crowd, all heading straight toward the doors. A fresh surge of adrenaline pumped through my veins, and I moved with renewed urgency.