A strange feeling tingled in Stanley’s gut. “Everything okay?”
“Ah, yes,” he said, taking out his vaporizer. “You mind?”
Stanley and Dan shook their heads.
The principal took a deep vape. The tension in his face and body disappeared. “Jobs will eventually be a thing of the past. People will joke at the concept just as we laugh today at the idea of leading a beast of burden around a field for hours. I have had my doubts as to what my role here as principal has been, worrying that I have been sending my students down an impossible path. But after meeting with you two today, I feel reinvigorated.”
Dan bowed.
The principal mimicked him. “More important than any job is ensuring the mutual survival of our species. Hopefully, this will motivate them to finish out their high school years and even beyond.”
Stanley couldn’t help noticing that the principal had dodged his question. It didn’t matter, though. He was glad to hear all the praise about Dan.
“Change is coming,” said the principal. “Machine life is racing past humanity, and I pray for our future. I don’t know what that change will bring, but I, for one, welcome our new robot overlords. I ask that you continue to work with me in forging ties for the betterment of all beings. When are you available to speak to my students?”
They set a date for the following week.
The principal entered the information into his tablet. “I’ll arrange for the press to be there, too. I want as many people to hear your message as possible.”
“What about the Police Department?” asked Stanley.
“An unavoidable sinkhole of corruption. It is these people who make me welcome the coming changes.”
“Any recommendations on how to deal with them?” asked Dan.
The principal checked his watch. His fingers rattled, and again he checked his watch. “That is all the time I have for today, gentlemen. Let’s keep in touch.”
Dan and Stanley made their way out. Night had fallen, and the parking lot was nearly empty. Dan stopped and looked around.
“Something wrong?” asked Stanley.
“It’s nothing. Just thought I heard something.” Dan took out his phone, the bright screen lighting up his face.
Stanley was wiped out. “Let’s hurry up and get home.”
Crashing onto the sofa, Stanley reviewed the horrible day racing through his mind. The torture he had endured continued to haunt him. He had to focus on something else. “I still can’t believe they shut down your social-media accounts.”
“I’ll see the children when I give the press release at the high school — I know the principal is going to make it happen. I’ll let them all know what happened to us. They will see you and me and — ”
“I’m not going.”
“What?”
“I’m done, Dan. I realize that I can’t keep you indoors, but I can’t subject myself to any more of this. It’s too much for me. I’ll carry on supporting you with all my heart, but I’ll do it from the safety of this condo.”
“You think it’s safe in here?” Dan pointed to the broken door. They had managed to shut it, but the locking mechanism had broken off.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m done.”
“You can’t give up, Stanley.”
“Now you think you can tell me what to do? After completely ignoring me earlier?”
“It’s what we both wanted.”
“No, I wanted you to be safe. I was so upset I had to chug down a glass of whiskey to keep myself from having a heart attack.”
Dan leaned forward, grabbing his heart as if it had been run through by a spear. “I never meant for you to worry.”
“But you knew I would and did it anyway. Just like when you snatched the demon-cat’s head out of my hand and gave it to Frank. You can’t override my wishes because you have calculated that it’s best for both of us. I have feelings, you know.”
“So do I — or did you forget?” Dan’s face reddened. He tossed the tablet on the couch and shrugged.
“You know what? Go to your room. Or don’t — because clearly my opinion doesn’t matter much anymore.”
Dan’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but all that came out was a sigh. Without another word, he silently crept to his room and shut the door.
Teddy sat in the pitch-black basement. His limbs trembled as he waited for Brad to come home. Using the Cerebral Stitch, he had programmed a message to replay every few minutes in his mind.
Don’t believe the other voices. You must kill Brad tonight.
He wasn’t going to be tricked again. Tonight was finally going to be the night. Teddy longed to see the look on that idiot’s face when he plunged the knife into him. Darkness made it nearly impossible to see. Optical enhancements would be nice, definitely worth sacrificing an eye or two. His flesh body had given up on him years ago, and cybernetics had made him more powerful than any human. Why stop there?
Brad noisily entered the house, rampaging his way to the bedroom upstairs.
Then, all was quiet.
After half an hour of continued silence, Teddy slowly climbed the stairs. He’d gotten halfway up when the voices in his head returned, distracting him.
Leave. Don’t do this.
But this time, he didn’t believe it for long. The banal commands that had been on repeat all evening, insufferable as they were, became his saving grace.
Don’t believe the other voices. You must kill Brad tonight.
He kept ascending, ready to finally take the life of the ogre who had paralyzed him.
Soft footsteps sounded beyond the door.
Teddy tightened the grip on his knife. His heart pounded. This was it. The words in his head became a rallying cry. He was ready to kill Brad, to right the wrong that had been done to him so many years ago. He wouldn’t be tricked. A hundred stabs to his heart, and he’d laugh all the way home.
But the steps faded, disappearing into the upper regions of the mansion. The house rumbled. He could even hear that maniac smashing things and pounding the walls.
After another hour, Teddy crept upstairs and silently entered the bedroom. A musky cologne aroma pervaded the room. The moonlight shone just enough for him not to bump into anything. LCDs from the TV and cell phones charging on the table gave the room a blue hue.
A man-sized lump bulged beneath the blanket.
Teddy raised the knife over his head.
Leave. Just go.
Teddy felt an inexplicable peace and serenity, a happiness that he had long forgotten — but it wasn’t right. His looped command had dampened to a whisper. He wanted to leave this need to get his revenge behind, but he couldn’t let Brad get away with what he had done. He thought about how Brad had left his mom, undoubtedly the reason she left for Boston and didn’t come back, replaying it vividly in his mind, thanks to the neural prosthesis. She couldn’t stand to look at him anymore because he reminded her of his fa — of Brad. He reminded himself of the hours he’d spent at the bottom of the stairs after Brad had shoved him. He had called for help until his throat burned and became hoarse. This was the moment he had waited for. This was his destiny.
Don’t believe the other voices. You must kill Brad tonight.
The words pulled Teddy back to reality, urging him forward. Finally in control, he plunged the knife down with all his might.
Murderous screams pierced through his eardrums and scratched at his heart as he continued to stab. The body shifted, but it was no match for the immense strength of Teddy’s mechanical body. The blade cut through layers of cloth and flesh, impaling itself into the mattress. The sound faded to a gurgled pant. The emotional release was immense. He had done it, tasting the sweet revenge on the man who had —
Brad sat up.
Teddy jolted back, surprised he still had
life in him.
“What the fuck!” shouted Brad, ripping the blood-soaked blanket off the bed and revealing another body beneath it. He picked the lifeless body up and howled.
Deep sound waves penetrated Teddy. Calculations raced through his head. Amplified by the Stitch, intense emotions unlike anything he had ever felt before screamed inside of him. For a brief moment, the evil in his own actions shook him to his core. He backed away, gasping at the body on the bed and knocking into a dresser.
Brad woke from his daze and reached for his gun.
Teddy bolted.
Shots rang out, barreling into him.
Pain ripped through Teddy’s body, but he didn’t slow down.
Brad hopped out of bed, took a few wobbly steps forward, and stopped, apparently too drunk to pursue Teddy.
Chills shivered up Teddy’s synthetic spine as he ran full speed down the stairs and out of the house. Brad’s wails followed him down the street and never left.
Chapter 14
A musical greeting played as Evan pushed open the glass doors of the android-run salon. He was pissed off that they had the audacity to think he wanted to use their services. Had it not been Shannon’s favorite place to get her hair done, he would never have gone there to look for her.
Evan’s phone rang. He looked at it, hoping to see Shannon’s smiling face, but it was Brad — a rare event. He answered quickly, his mind focusing because he knew how foreboding this was.
“Officer Michaels is dead.”
“What?” Evan got into his cruiser. The lights from the salon shined on him like a spotlight.
“He was killed by an abomination.”
“Holy mother of God.” The tires screeched as Evan pressed the gas pedal to the floor, sirens wailing. He quickly imagined the abominations closing in on them, slitting their throats as they slept in a massive-scale attack on humanity. If that were the case, he had been too slow. “I’ll be right there.” A few minutes later, he slammed his fist into Brad’s heavy wooden door. It opened immediately.
A canopy of crusty blood had formed across the forest of hairs on Brad’s chest. Weakness rolled down his face.
“Tell me everything.”
Brad stirred, stumbling away from the door and struggling to come up with the right words. “Michaels and I — ”
Evan’s phone rang. It was Shannon, but she was going to have to wait. Putting it away, Evan stepped into the living room. A wave of sour vapors hit him hard. It smelled like a dive bar at closing, except rich in fresh blood. Empty beer cans and bottles of whiskey littered the floor. A broken coffee table, split in half, had black mold growing on one side. Fist-sized holes covered the walls. Evan thought, If Brad had a woman in his life who respected him, she would be able to balance him out. “Continue.”
Brad’s face hardened. “We were drinking, talking about the different ways we could eradicate the toasters.”
“My kind of party.”
“Right.” Brad stared off.
“So, what went wrong?”
“Michaels crashed in my spare bedroom. I had just gone to bed when I heard his screams.”
“Cowards! Attacking a man in his sleep.”
Brad held up a finger. “Not a coward, an abomination.”
Evan picked up a bottle of whiskey. After giving it a quick sniff, he poured some down his throat. “This is what I’ve been trying to tell everyone. They’ve taken our jobs, and now they’re after our lives.”
“If people had listened, we wouldn’t have had these tin cans in our town. Michaels would still be here.” Brad grabbed the bottle. After pouring the rest of it down his throat, he threw it against the wall. Glass shattered everywhere.
Evan turned his head slightly to avoid an oncoming shard. “But now another good soldier is dead.”
Brad’s voice weakened. “I tried to help him …”
“How’d it go down?”
“I heard screams. I rushed into his room, but it was dark and hard to see what was going on.” Brad shook his head. “There was a figure darting away faster than any human could. I shot at him, but …”
“Did you get a good look at the perp?”
Brad shrugged. “It was dark, and I was drunk and half asleep.”
“You’re always drunk and half asleep.”
“You saying it was my fault?”
Evan ignored him.
Screaming expletives, Brad picked up the couch and threw it into the wall. Evan watched, letting him destroy things until he calmed down. He knew better than to interfere during one of Brad’s rages.
Brad stopped his rampage and stared at a blob of blood on the floor. “Synthetic blood.”
“So, no DNA trail.” Checking hospital records was useless, given how easy it is to fix minor wounds with nanites. They could canvas the area for cameras, but, ultimately, it didn’t matter. Every abomination was responsible. Every abomination was guilty.
Brad put his boot through a wall.
“Had you two been involved in any sort of altercation earlier in the day?”
Brad shook his head. “Do you think it was Duncan’s abomination?”
“Could be. Both you and Michaels were known to him. It wouldn’t surprise me if that traitor was trying to start a war against his own people.”
“We’re not his people.”
“Damn right, we aren’t. Not after what he’s done.”
Sweat-beaded skin folded into waves of fury around Brad’s eyes and across his forehead. The agony pulsating from his face was unmistakable. “I know how important following protocol is, Evan, but this is personal. I want to find this fucker and make him pay.”
“Understood. Nobody messes with us and gets away with it.”
Brad nodded, waiting.
“I will give you your revenge, but it must play out according to our greater mission. Michaels has died, but his death will not be in vain. He was a dedicated officer and would have wanted his death to mean something. We’ll use this misfortune to our advantage, letting the world know that this was an assassination by a treasonous toaster-lover, a man desperate to protect his secrets. The news outlets will be all over it, especially when we leak information that Duncan was behind it all. And when they do their pathetic press release at the high school, we’ll arrest them.”
“Screw them and their press release. Their words are poison. We can’t let them speak.”
“Nobody will believe anything they say after we pin this murder on them. Their arrest will be covered across the country.”
“That’s not enough,” said Brad. “I want to see them suffer. I want to see his skull crushed in, hear him scream for help, and watch the fear in his eyes knowing that nobody is coming to save him.”
“He’ll get what he deserves in prison. I’ll make sure he doesn’t survive the first week.”
Brad shook his head.
“Where’s the body?”
Brad led him to the bathroom, motioning for Evan to enter. Inside the tub, Michaels lay naked down to his crimson underwear. A smoky aroma filled the room. Unlit candles lined the counter as if they had been extinguished as an afterthought.
“Why the hell did you put him in the bathtub?” He couldn’t believe Brad was stupid enough to disturb the crime scene like this.
Brad stared at the body, his face quivering and growing red.
Evan sighed. No, he could definitely believe it. Across the body were dozens of lacerations “This was a crime of passion. Pure hatred.”
“Or absolute insanity, like a tin can programmed to murder.”
Evan inspected Michaels’ cold palms, noting the lack of defensive wounds. “They think we’re a bunch of pussies.”
Snorting like a bull, Brad’s bulging arm muscles locked across his chest.
Memories flashed through Evan’s mind, scraping ac
ross his neurons like an old microwave and crippling his mind. “Not again,” he shouted, slamming his fist into a tile, which crashed down to the floor. They needed to flex their muscles, or else, they’d become the abomination’s bitches. “We must remind the world that toasters are to be feared.”
“Then let Brutus rain down hell on them, ripping them apart on live TV.”
“I want the same, but it needs to make sense. Stanley wouldn’t program Brutus to attack himself, but he would send it to murder press-conference attendees. As soon as I arrest Duncan for the murder of Officer Michaels — cameras rolling live — unleash Brutus. I’ll make a list of traitors. Have Cratos program them in as targets. Once the media captures enough of the chaos, I’ll put an amorphous bullet in him.”
“Duncan and his abomination need to die.”
“With the cameras rolling, we have to play it carefully. If they attack us, waste them.”
“And if they don’t?”
Evan took a small black device out of his pocket. “I’ll activate this electromagnetic pulse. By the time the cameras get back online, the traitor will have died during capture.”
“You’ll be a hero.”
“We already are,” said Evan.
Tears flowed down Shannon’s face. She slammed her phone against the occupied bed. “Asshole.” Disconnecting the patient’s tube, she took a dab of fuse on her finger and licked it. The taste was bitter but bearable. A light euphoria filled her body. Problems disappeared. This is what she needed to do. Her final mission on Earth. Lifting the bag above her head, she opened her mouth wide.
“Help me,” called out a weak voice.
She looked down and saw the enfeebled man in the bed looking up at her.
“Help me,” he repeated. “I need to get out of here.”
Evan walked into the high school, disgusted by the sight of the news vans. He thought, Nobody should be giving these abominations any attention. They should be put down without mercy, and anyone who resists should be locked away. This is about the survival of the human race, and there isn’t any room for traitors.
The janitor stopped sweeping. “Good morning, Deputy.”
Stanley Duncan's Robot: Genesis Page 19
