Stanley Duncan's Robot: Genesis

by David Ring III

  Waves of mechanical spiders scurried toward the protester at all angles. They didn’t scratch or bite, but that terribly irritable sensation they must have given the protester as they crawled across his skin and hair was enough to drive him bonkers.

  “Get off of me.” The protester beat at his legs, but the onslaught was too much. He screamed, stripping off his clothes and rolling around in the snow. He slapped and stomped for several minutes before putting his clothes back on.

  Stanley laughed, resisting the urge to save the audio and video feed — the drones had done enough of that. Considering the deputy was out to get him, it was best to not leave any evidence behind on his home computer. Hundreds of spiders remained on the protester. Stanley gave the command to disengage — save for three mechanical spiders. They would continue to serve as his spies.

  The protester took off in a Fermi and made a phone call. Stanley was able to hear only the audio from the protester’s side.

  “He sent spiders after me.”

  “Of course, we need to stop them.”

  “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “Right. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  Stanley’s face glowed with his victory. There would be more problems to come, but he had proven to himself that he had the gumption to deal with them. He spent the next hour scouring the web for open-source code, piecing together everything he needed to give the mechanical spiders fuse-injecting capabilities. All that was left was to test it out.

  The phone rang.

  He asked with unwonted aplomb, “Who is it, Leticia?”

  “Dan Duncan.”

  “Answer.”

  Heavy breathing filled the room.

  “Dan, are you okay?”

  No response.

  The first thought that crossed Stanley’s mind was that Dan was in trouble. But, given the protest, the drones, the prank calls, the harassment on social media, the eggs thrown on his window, and the mechanical spiders, he felt strongly that someone had spoofed Dan’s number and was harassing him. “Whoever’s doing this, stop. I’ve done nothing wrong to you.”

  The breathing continued.

  His sanctuary had been violated, and he was tired of feeling like a prisoner. “I’m Stanley Duncan, one of the world’s greatest programmers. I’m not going to let someone bully me in my own household.” Stanley disconnected the phone and went over to the computer. After coding all the complicated algorithms in Dan’s code, tracing a spoofed number would be child’s play.

  The crowd at the Coliseum was growing. Everyone seemed to be drinking heavily. Music flooded the large room, speckled by colorful beams of light. Men and women of all ages danced inside the blood-stained ring.

  Shannon loved it. This was going to make it so much easier to nurse Larry back to health and disappear. She poured a small amount of fuse into a glass. “It’ll help with the withdrawal.”

  “Thanks.” Larry downed it. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

  She shrugged. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him.

  His eyes narrowed.

  “I’ve never heard of anyone coming out of fuse before. What happened?” She wondered if he was the exception, or if everything she had heard about recovering from fuse had been a lie, an insidious ploy to stop the patients from waking up.

  Slowly turning to her, his eyes half shut, he said, “Somehow, I knew — ”

  He collapsed into the chair.

  Shannon knew he would be out for a while but didn’t know what she would do with him after he woke up. Or with herself. She needed to escape, forget about Marshfield and its horrors, and get as far away from here as possible.

  A charged conversation between Brad and Cratos drew her to a concealed location on the other side of the bar. If she really wanted to leave, then why did she care so much about what they said?

  A foreboding sign greeted Dan along the walkway to Teddy’s house — blood. The door was unlocked. Dan walked in and saw the chaos. Madness splattered across the walls and surfaces, an obsession to kill. “Teddy?”

  The trail of blood ran along the carpet. Dan surveyed the area, ready for battle but no longer feeling like he was walking into a trap. Clearly something violent had taken place. A gruesome site awaited him around the corner. On the floor next to the radiator was a pair of burned-off bionic arms. Teddy’s arms.

  He called Stanley, who answered in the most peculiar way. “I told you to stop messing with me.”

  “Stanley? What’s wrong?”

  “I said stop messing with me!”

  “I’m coming home.” Teddy was in trouble but likely still alive, since his body hadn’t been discarded here. There was a possibility that he had gone to a hospital, but, more than likely, he had been captured. Stanley needed him now, and Dan knew exactly where he was. Dan also needed to get back and prepare for the press release.

  “Wait — Dan? It’s you? It’s really you?”

  “Yeah, who else would it be?” Dan traced his finger around the letters carved into the table. He had a strong sense that Sergeant Wilcox had something to do with this.

  “I’ve been getting spoofed calls all day. Threats online. Everything’s a mess.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Oh, no. No, you can’t. An army of reporters are outside. They’ll rip you apart.”

  “What am I supposed to do — never come home?” Dan was so sick and tired of Stanley not trusting him. What did he need to do to prove himself?

  “For right now — yes. Go straight to the high school. Did you bring your suit?”

  “No, I didn’t.” He looked at the charred clothes on the severed arm in front of him. Worrying about looking nice seemed wrong.

  “What were you thinking?”

  “Why would I bring it on a distress call?”

  “Because of something like this happening.”

  “You’re being inane.”

  “I’m not insane!”

  “That’s it — I’m coming back.”

  “Don’t. Wait until the media storm has cleared outside.”

  “You think it’ll be better after the press release?” Dan picked up one of Teddy’s arms. They were taking a major risk today, and it wasn’t going to get any easier. Stanley was going to need round-the-clock protection, and the only way to do that was with the Peacekeepers. According to the scenarios he had run, there was more than a ninety-percent probability of resistance from the police and other unknown forces. Only a war would bring about peace.

  “Let’s worry about that when the time comes. I’ve got your location. I’ll send you a package via drone. Stay out of sight as much as you can. I feel like the police are planning something big against us.”

  “Because of the reporters? You’ve performed a miracle, and the world is excited to learn about it.” Dan saw the calculations running through his mind. It was almost a one-hundred-percent chance that the police were going to do something today. Yet all he could offer Stanley were words to calm him down. This was just like what Stanley had done to him, keeping the threats and problems to himself. It didn’t make sense — not by his calculations — and yet he did it anyway.

  “I’m worried about you.”

  “Don’t be. I’ll be fine.” He wanted to track down Teddy, but there wasn’t enough time. All he could do now was to present his message to America’s future leaders.

  “I’ll watch the press release from here.”

  “I know you will.” He took one look at the crime scene and shuddered. “I want you to protect yourself. There is a chance that someone might try to hurt you.”

  Stanley laughed. “I’ve been preparing myself with a few tricks.”

  “I really don’t think you’re cut out for combat.” The last time Stanley tried to defend himself, he got tor
tured by Sergeant Wilcox. “What sort of tricks?”

  “I’ll show them to you later. Meanwhile, I’ll stay hidden in the apartment below. It’ll be okay.”

  “I hope so.”

  Less than twenty minutes later, Dan received the package. No addresses, just a taped-on QR code at the top. It was much bigger than he expected. Opening it up, he saw why — the damned helmet.

  Brad took the war-hammer and holstered it against Brutus’s back. Tilting his neck, he poured a half-full flask down his throat until it dripped out. The painful pulsations in his head dulled. “It’d better be ready.”

  Cratos scurried beneath the giant android like a cockroach. If he wasn’t such a useful bug, Brad would have squished him for the fun of it. “Yes. Yes. Of course. It’s ready.”

  Staring face to face with the android, Brad’s thirst for blood grew. Memories of Michaels’ dying screams pierced through him. The light from his eyes had vanished before he got a chance to say goodbye. There was no room in this world for half-breeds. If you sympathized with the abominations, then you were one of them. “I’ve changed my mind. I want everyone in there dead.”

  “Everyone? Are you — ” Cratos clasped his mouth shut. “Yes, of course. I’ll make sure there are exclusions for you, Evan, and anyone else you want.”

  Brad wanted to knock out the rest of Cratos’s teeth. “Bring the armless abomination out. I want to see it suffer. Give the crowd some fun, and then pit it against that pathetic excuse of a man that Shannon dragged in.” Turning to leave, a small, pale fist slammed into his chest.

  “What are you, crazy?” said Shannon. “They’ll be hundreds of children there. And Larry — ”

  He grabbed her wrist and lifted her into the air with one hand. “Don’t mess with me.”

  “Evan would never order this. What is he going to do when he hears about it?” Shannon squirmed, unable to break free of Brad’s one-handed grip.

  His eyes narrowed on the bitch. “Then I’ll have to make sure he doesn’t hear about it.”

  Cameras from androids and drones captured Dan’s every step as he walked up the immaculate stairs to the high school. A red carpet had been newly rolled out, and an ornamental fabric had been draped across the ceiling. Exceptional student drawings of machine life adorned the windows. The feeling was intense, and he could only imagine how much Stanley was suffering at home.

  The principal was waiting for him at the top of the stairs. “Are you ready?” There was an alertness in his eyes that Dan couldn’t distinguish as excitement or fear.

  Dan nodded, wishing he didn’t have to do this alone.

  Chapter 17

  Brad tied Shannon up to a chair in the VIP room. Her attempts to control him were pathetic. She needed to learn that sleeping with the boss didn’t make her the boss. “Enjoy the show.”

  “I won’t let you get away with this.”

  “Little Shannon’s going to stop me?”

  “Not me. Evan’s going to kill you.”

  “We’ll see what he has to say after he hears about you coming in with another man.”

  She shook her head. “He was a patient at the fuse farm.”

  “That’s desperate even for you.” He laughed, slammed the door behind him, and went in search of an up-front seat by the plebs. Cratos was going to bring the abomination out any minute. When Brad had whetted his appetite, he would leave for the high school, ordering Cratos to send Brutus along after him — arriving with a murderer wasn’t a good idea. He would miss part of the Coliseum show and Shannon’s reaction to her new boyfriend getting mauled, but he would have a prime seat for the high school slaughter. Of course, he wouldn’t let everyone die. He and Evan would use their police authority to stop the abomination in its tracks, blaming everything on Duncan.

  People would praise him as a hero, but he didn’t care about that at all. He would spend his time drinking in the Coliseum, making Teddy pay for what he had done. With the durability of its tin-can body and the exploitability of its toaster brain, Brad would be free to spend the rest of his life watching Cratos torture that abomination.

  The dark room throbbed with the roar of distant applause.

  Pain filled Teddy’s body. Too exhausted to get up off the frigid concrete floor, he glanced around and saw powered-down and destroyed androids surrounding him on all sides. They were all mutilated, their body parts transformed into weapons. Machetes, saws, and hammers replaced limbs. Faces were marred with cuts, burns, and other deformations. He was in Marshfield’s Coliseum, which he had seen in countless fight videos on the dark web. If he didn’t get out of there soon, they were going to slaughter him. Not only had he failed at killing Brad, but he’d let that fiend do this to him. Brad had to pay, and Teddy would not rest until he had cut him up with his own hands.

  Shackles pulled at his feet as he tried to move his legs. Looking down, his shirt sleeves were scorched and half gone. Horror screamed in his bio-mechanical heart. His biceps terminated in cauterized stumps. Since waking up, the hands and fingers he had felt moving were but phantom limbs. He was crippled once again.

  Cratos walked through the door, brandishing a cattle prod. “Get up. It’s show time.”

  “Screw off.”

  Cratos laughed, electrocuting him with the prod. Bright pulses of light lit up the room as Teddy spasmed on the ground. “I love my job.”

  Teddy got up. Even with the shackles on his legs and his strength depleted, he could kill this man right now if he wanted to. But who knew what was waiting for him beyond the door? He needed to comply until he found a clear way out.

  Cratos walked behind Teddy. The hole in that idiot’s skull must have destroyed a quarter of his brain. “Walk faster!”

  A strong bolt of electricity sent Teddy crashing to the floor. “If you unshackle my legs, I’d be a lot faster.”

  Another zap.

  “Keep your mouth shut, or I’ll fry you to death right here and now.”

  The shock had disoriented him, undoubtedly screwing with the circuitry throughout his body. His legs felt like they were made of concrete. Lumbering through the hall, Teddy imagined kicking Cratos to death. He passed through a metal doorway into a giant room filled with cheering idiots. Loud music blasted through his body, and flashing light blinded him.

  “Go on — get your toaster-ass into the ring.”

  As he was climbing up, several men surrounded him. The music faded, and a booming voice filled the air. “All right, everyone — you know the rules. One punch each, and the man with the best punch wins.”

  The first of the contestants stepped up.

  Teddy stared down at him.

  The man swung hard.

  Teddy shifted his head back slightly, dodging the punch.

  The crowd roared with laughter.

  “We got a feisty one here tonight,” said the announcer.

  The man tried to take another shot but was restrained.

  “Pathetic!” The chains pulled on Teddy’s ankles. If he was going to die here, he was not going to go down without a fight.

  Cratos jabbed the prod into his head but didn’t shock him. “Brad tells me he plans to slowly return you to your former paraplegic self. But in the meantime, you’re to be a good slave.”

  “I don’t belong to anyone.”

  “You’re wrong about that,” said Cratos. “You see, that computer is quite a funny thing. It can cause you extreme pleasure or extreme pain.” Grinning, he held the prod inches from Teddy’s face and zapped it. “Usually when I torture someone, I get so excited. I can’t stop myself, and my playthings pass out or die before I’ve finished having my fun. But not you. I’ll drag you through an unending hell! I’ll chop off your arms and legs! I’ll keep you alive by force-feeding you through a tube — just so I can keep torturing you forever! With that little computer in your head, I’ll make you feel pain lik
e you’ve never felt before. You’ll be begging me to stop — if I’ve let you keep your tongue. Oh, now that I think about it, I’m rather fond of the idea of receiving binary pleas of mercy.”

  Teddy tried to swing at him, forgetting he had no fists or forearms. His stub pointed at Cratos. “I’m going to kill you.”

  Guffawing, Cratos jammed the cattle prod into his chest. “Call me ‘master.’”

  “Never,” said Teddy, his body trembling.

  Another shock. This time, Teddy’s legs buckled. His fingers and toes curled up as he slammed against the floor. Someone lifted him to his feet and held him there.

  The next contestant came up, slamming Teddy in the ribs with a solid punch.

  Teddy gasped for air, each breath a struggle. If he had his arms, he would smash another crater into that ugly man’s face.

  “Tell me who your master is.”

  Teddy walked up to him, looking that ugly bastard in the eye. Unending torture was all that remained for him here, and if he played the placater a little, things may go easier for him. Opening his mouth, his tongue felt as if it had been dragged across a metal pad.

  “Say it. Call me ‘master,’ you disgusting abomination.”

  Clenching his teeth, Teddy head-butted him with all his might. Blood exploded out of Cratos’s nose as he stumbled back, screaming. The crowd booed, sending bottles exploding on the ring.

  Teddy laughed, his forehead painted crimson red. A bottle smashed over his head, and a kick from behind knocked him to the floor. An unending storm of kicks pelted every inch of his body, and the cattle prod zapped him continually. His body felt like it was on fire, convulsing uncontrollably. His visuals distorted as electricity wreaked havoc on his brain. Still, he laughed, staring up at those stupid faces until he passed out.