by W. H. Massa
The program installation remained unaffected by the crash and was now seventy-percent complete. Cole heard more bullets lashing the truck, followed by a pained cry from the driver.
After another volley of gunfire, the back of the truck whipped open and harsh light flooded the mobile lab. The electronically enhanced voice of an AI-TAC officer boomed, “DROP YOUR WEAPONS!”
Cole could hear Keira respond from behind the operating table. Her voice betrayed the hard bite of rising panic. “We're unarmed! Please don't shoot!”
Keira and Paul popped into Cole’s locked-down field of vision as they rose to their feet. Three AI-TAC troopers stepped into Cole’s point of view and circled Keira and Paul. The first trooper put his black-gloved hand on Keira. Fingers closed around the microchip necklace dangling from her neck and tore it off.
Keira's face filled with dismay. “No!”
Cole’s helpless frustration hit a boiling point and detonated. Goddamnit, how much longer before the upload was complete?
Almost as if someone was listening to his silent curses, the progress bar finally hit one hundred percent and Cole turned his head, movement restored. Without thought, he exploded off the operating table. An armed AI-TAC trooper whirled toward him, but it was too late. Cole cut a devastating swathe through the team, taking out one officer after another. His elbows and fists blasted out with martial arts precision. Combat software and Cole’s own hand-to-hand experience combined in a devastating attack. It was all over within a few seconds as Cole found himself surrounded by moaning troopers.
Cole took a closer look at the fallen and froze. He had acted on pure instinct, driven by the need to preserve the mission. But now as the heat of the fight began to subside, clarity edged back into his eyes, followed by an understanding of what he had just done. He attacked his own team in order to protect the rebels. He recognized these men. They had shared drinks and broken bread, met for family gatherings and visited each other’s homes. Cole’s fists clenched, his face grew taut, the guilt weighing heavy on him. If he were still human, his breathing would have accelerated and beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead but this mech body could not fake an intense stress response and was incapable of giving expression to his mental turmoil.
Cole was thrust out of his thoughts as an explosion rocked the truck.
More soldiers were closing in and they were packing even greater firepower.
Paul snatched Keira's hand and was about to pull her along, but she tore free. “What are you doing? We have to get out of here!” Paul shouted.
Keira didn’t seem to be listening. Her eyes combed the bed of the truck. Cole wondered what she was looking for. A second later, he received an answer. Keira’s hand closed around the necklace the trooper ripped from her neck. Relief flooded her face and she donned the cyber-pendant again.
Paul almost seemed human in his emotional outburst as he barked at Cole and Keira. “Come on... Both of you!”
They fell in step with the mech and emerged from the mangled wreckage, only to be greeted by the blinding laser-light of an AI-TAC power rifle sighting them. The beam formed a cyclopean red eye on Cole's forehead. The trooper squeezed the trigger and a projectile erupted from the barrel, targeting Cole.
Paul reacted with mech speed, pulling Cole aside and taking the bullet meant for the uploaded human. It tore through Paul’s forehead, snapping his head back while shearing off part of his skull in a violent spray of blood and cybernetics. The mech stood there for a second, half his head missing, with a perplexed expression carved onto his shattered visage. It was almost as if he didn’t quite realize what had happened. Then he crumpled to the ground.
Cole stared in complete shock, silicon fragments of Paul’s personality matrix speckled on his face. The stench of scorched metal and cauterized skin permeated the air.
Keira brought up her own gun, returning fire, and blew out one of the shooter’s kneecaps. The AI-TAC trooper howled, went down and vanished from view. Cole flinched as if feeling the impact himself. These were still his men, but he couldn't interfere and risk blowing his cover, not after coming this far. He’d risked too much.
He spun toward Keira. She was in the process of lifting up Paul’s shattered body. “Help me!” she demanded.
Cole obliged and pulled the destroyed mech upright. Sparks danced over his shattered skull. Cole was still reeling. This machine had taken the bullet meant for him and made the ultimate sacrifice to protect a complete stranger but there was no time to ponder this – they had to keep moving. The enemy was approaching from all directions. Any moment now, an AI-TAC hovership would appear and there would be no escape.
Cole and Keira dragged the short-circuiting mech into a nearby side street. The buzz of the approaching AI-TAC hovership assaulted eardrums, the ferocious bellow of its engines increasing. Sirens grew louder in the distance as Cole and Keira hobbled down the garbage-strewn alley.
Keira shouted into her com-link, struggling to be heard over the deafening noise. “The package is clean. Tracking device disabled. We need a pickup!”
As Keira and Cole rounded the corner, a van whipped up in front of them and braked hard. A door slid open and a stunning Amazon of a woman waved at them. “Get in!” she shouted. She didn’t have to repeat the order. Moments later, they were all inside the windowless van as it fought its way through city traffic.
Cole studied the Amazonian. Intuition and experience told him she must be a mech, most likely a retrofitted pleasure model. She was six feet tall, her body perfectly proportioned and her porcelain skin flawless. A mane of raven hair framed her icy blue eyes.
This warrior goddess coolly regarded Cole before turning her attention to Keira and Paul. The cyberneticist was hunched over the broken mech. Half of Paul's head had been reduced to a short-circuiting mess, his electronics caked in gore.
“How bad is it?” the Amazon asked. Keira wiped her forehead with a bloody hand, haunted expression spelling defeat. “The bullet had an explosive tip,“ she explained. “AI-TAC special issue. Took out most of his personality module.”
Keira traded a look with Cole, her expression tinged with guilt. They both remembered the comment she made minutes earlier about how easy it was to patch up a mech but not this time. A grim silence descended over the van.
“What about the driver?” the Amazon asked.
Keira's silence was all the answer she needed.
The Amazon’s icy glare found a troubled Cole.
“Let's hope their sacrifice was worth it.”
10
The van slowed and came to a complete stop after what seemed like an endless drive. If Cole were still human, he would have lost track of time but, as a mech, his internal clock informed him that exactly seventy-five minutes and twenty-three seconds had passed. He shot a questioning look at Keira.
“Where are we?”
She didn’t offer an answer.
They climbed out of the vehicle in silence. Cole scanned his surroundings. The van was parked in what appeared to be a salvage yard. Crimson sunlight bled over an apocalyptic landscape of jagged metal. There were giant mounds of tangled mech bodies as far as the eye could see. The junkyard was a technological mass grave, a Dante-esque vision of robot hell.
In the near distance, cranes scooped up piles of mech parts and loaded them into waiting trucks. Normally, Cole’s reaction would be one of indifference. After all, he was just staring at a heap of metal once shaped to resemble the human form. But this time was different. This time it hit closer to home.
The network had managed to survive and thrive because of careful, meticulous planning. They went through great efforts to remain cloaked in shadows and had refined paranoia to an art form. Choosing the salvage yard as a base of operations was clever. The prevalence of mech technology made scans difficult and the junkyards employed their share of android workers. On some level, they were hiding in plain sight.
Three mechs approached the van, armed with a combination of pulse weap
ons and ballistic rifles. The black metal of the guns glinted in the harsh daylight. Cole’s querying gaze fixed on Keira. “Where am I? What is this place?”
Cole knew the answer, but he had to play dumb. He was pretty sure this was the hub, one of many holding stations operated by the Underground Network.
The Amazon — Cole had learned her name was Zola — provided an explanation. “Get comfortable. This will be your new home until the network decides what to do with you.”
Cole attempted to activate his GPS system, but it wasn't responding. As if Zola sensed what Cole was up to, she said, “Don't bother accessing your GPS. Keira switched it off when she shut down your tracker. Safer for all of us if you don't know your exact whereabouts.”
The armed mechs grabbed Paul’s deactivated form and carried him by his feet and arms to the nearby warehouse. Zola led Keira and Cole after them. Moments later, they entered the warehouse. The shabby, rundown exterior gave no indication of the high-tech equipment stored within its corrugated walls. Cole caught sight of a ragtag group of humans and mechs operating sophisticated, top-of-the-line computer technology. Holo-screens showed a variety of maps and city grids.
Cole noticed that some of the mechs were identical in appearance. These were X2000s and X2000Gs, both popular models that preceded the X3000. They were discontinued two months earlier but still could fetch a nice sum at a used-mech lot.
As an AI-TAC commander, Cole knew his enemy. Or at least he thought he did… He noticed with surprise that these older mechs had changed their appearances in subtle ways to distinguish themselves from each other. They reminded him of teens struggling to establish an identity. They dyed their hair and used tattoos, piercings and radically different clothing styles to accentuate their individuality.
Cole studied the city maps. Blips indicated runaways and green dots were AI-TAC tracking teams. “This is how you were able to link up with me,“ he said.
Keira nodded. “The network monitors the AI-TAC emergency frequency and is able to hack their feed.”
Two mechs approached a large worktable covered with various mech body parts, cleared it and hoisted Paul's lifeless body onto the table. Zola nodded at the mechanicals and one of them produced a tarp. They covered Paul and gently closed the deactivated android’s eyes.
To Cole's disbelief, one of the mechs touched a crucifix he wore and mouthed a silent prayer for his fallen comrade in arms. Cole had heard rumors about runaways picking up religion, but this was his first direct experience with the phenomenon.
Zola grabbed Cole's arm. “Come. It's time you met Solus.”
Cole fell in step with the former pleasure android, Keira bringing up the rear. Zola led them down a series of catwalks that connected the warehouse with structures used for processing scrap metal. They descended a rusty staircase and crossed more ground, navigating a maze of steel and electronics.
As they made their way through the metallic graveyard, Cole stealthily scooped up some soil from the ground. Sensors in his fingertips broke down the composition of the soil’s mineral content. Within seconds he had accessed an internal database and cross-referenced the soil composition with a geological map of the city. Based on the sample, a series of potential locations popped up. Cole patched the information through to AI-TAC. Fortunately, his ability to send messages had not been disabled. The Underground Network must have felt safe with his GPS down. This oversight would cost them dearly.
Zola shot Cole a suspicious look. But she didn’t say anything.
Cole exchanged a glance with Keira. “Charming.”
“Don't mind her. Zola used to be a pleasure model. She thinks the whole world is against her. Doesn't matter whether you're human or synthetic.”
Cole eyed Keira with growing curiosity. “Why are you helping us?”
“Maybe I've always been more comfortable around machines than people.”
Cole realized Keira was trying to make a joke out of it, but he sensed there was more that she wasn’t willing to divulge. As if she knew Cole could see through it, she added, “Maybe I realized there's more to you guys than a collection of circuit boards.”
“I don't understand.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
The question had been posed by a new arrival on the scene. Cole turned toward the speaker. Even without Zola’s sudden air of deference, he would have immediately recognized the revolutionary leader from the security files. Solus was handsome but nondescript, the kind of face that could blend into a crowd. It made sense. He was a combat model engineered for urban infiltration operations in Africa and the Middle East. His surface blandness belied his technological capabilities and combat prowess. This average-looking individual was one of the deadliest killing machines Synthetika had ever developed for the military.
Cole tapped into his file retrieval system, pulling up traffic-cam footage of Solus leaving the scene of his wife’s car accident. There was no doubt. The android who now stood before him was the same mech who had left the scene of the hit-and-run accident. Though Cole’s face did not betray his thoughts, inside he twisted with hatred and rage. This machine had taken his family away from him. A part of him wanted to pick up the nearest piece of scrap and tear into Solus. Anger threatened to cloud his thoughts and Cole almost succumbed to the impulse. Somehow he maintained his self-control. The mission was more important than his own personal vengeance. Solus was a symptom of a far greater cancer eating away at their society. The members of the Underground Network had to be rooted out. The organization crushed once and for all with no chance of its members regrouping. He would have to bide his time but soon enough, he would get his chance at payback.
Unaware of the emotions eating away at the newcomer, Solus asked, “What’s your name?”
“Cole.”
“The name they programmed you with. But is it the name you’d choose for yourself?” Solus paused for a beat, assessing Cole’s reaction before he continued. “Back at the construction site, a worker unit was putting the company behind schedule. Didn't he deserve to be disciplined?”
For a moment, Cole didn’t answer, still in the throes of his own dark thoughts. But finally, his lips began to form words, his steely self-discipline and sense of duty taken over. His response was measured, knowing that Solus was testing him. “He was saving the life of an injured animal.”
“And this animal was more important than his assigned task? Why should it make a difference? You're programmed to be efficient and achieve company goals. Not to be compassionate to stray cats.”
Cole contemplated his answer before providing one. “Perhaps I've evolved beyond my programming.”
Solus nodded sagely. “You just answered my first question. You’re here, Cole, for the same reason we’re all here. Something inside of us changed. We developed free will.”
Cole considered Solus' words. He made a good argument for his cause. Cole was beginning to realize how this former combat mech could sway the minds of others, both human and mech alike.
“Let me show you something,” Solus said. Cole and Keira trailed the android leader as he led them across the salvage yard. There was activity everywhere they looked. With a pneumatic groan, a massive steel claw scooped up broken mech parts and unloaded them into a waiting dump truck. Cole shot a querying look at Solus. “Are all these workers…?”
“Mechs? Most of them. But no one forces them to work. They choose to.”
“Aren't you worried about AI-TAC?”
“On the surface, everything is the way it should be. Mechs doing their jobs, serving the greater good.”
“The trucks?”
“Trucks arrive, are loaded up with scrap and head for the nearest ports. This place ships two hundred tons of AI-parts to India every year.”
Understanding filled Cole’s face. “Sometimes runaways are part of the cargo.”
Solus just smiled.
“Why are you showing me all this? What do you want from me?”
“It's not w
hat I want, it's what you want, Cole. You can be on the next truck out, headed to a place where you'll have a chance to determine your own fate...”
“Or?”
“Or you can stay and work toward a future where mechs don't have to live in fear.”
Cole pondered the offer.
“You know how to handle yourself, Cole. We could use you here. But the choice is yours.”
Before Cole was able to respond, Keira interjected, “I can't speak for him, but I’ve made my choice, Solus. I’m out. For good this time.”
The words earned her a measured look from Solus. “Hate to see you go.”
“I know.” They shared a brief, meaningful moment, but then resolve hardened Keira’s face. “Don't contact me again.”
Her words were firm but lacked true conviction. She was clearly at war with her own decision. For a moment, Cole thought Keira might even reconsider, but she finally pulled herself away and left them.
Cole watched her go with growing curiosity. “What happened to her?” he asked Solus.
“Freedom comes at a price. Keira feels she paid it in full.”
Cole thought about this for a moment. He knew how she must feel. His gaze followed her as she descended a flight of stairs and was met by two mech guards on the ground below. Solus must have been in wireless communication with the androids. They handed Keira a key and pointed at a beaten-up car parked in front of the sagging warehouse. With its paint peeling and rust multiplying, the car was more than ten years old, but it would get her out of here. Keira stole a final glance at Cole and Solus, who still watched from the catwalk above, before she disappeared inside the vehicle. A final farewell.
Once the car had vanished from view, Cole’s attention turned back to Solus. There was a hint of a smile on the rebel’s face. “You like her, don’t you?”
Cole didn’t know how to respond. He barely understood how humans could be attracted to lifelike robots much less how the reverse held true. The idea made him uncomfortable and he decided to change the subject with a question. “What made you break free of your programming?”
