by W. H. Massa
“Five years ago, I was a combat mech serving a tour in Somalia. I was an efficient killing machine and did as I was told. Until the day I had to execute five enemy combatants, none of them older than eighteen.”
Cole searched the android leader’s face. “You couldn't do it?”
Solus shook his head. “No, I pulled the trigger. Five times. And five young men died. But later that night, I left the camp and disappeared into the jungle. And for the first time in my life, I knew what it meant to be free.”
There was a force and conviction to his words that Cole couldn’t ignore. He had to remind himself that Solus was his wife’s killer.
“If the military had captured me, they would have simply erased my memory and rebooted my CPU. With the touch of a button, everything I'd become, every insight I'd gained, would be lost. A fate far worse than deactivation.”
Solus regarded the mountains of discarded mech bodies. “Man prays at the altar of technology, yet he wants to sacrifice his own creation on it.”
“What do you want?”
“A world where man and machine can be equals.”
Solus surveyed the salvage yard in contemplative silence while Cole considered these words. For a moment, he felt the machine could make him a believer. “You're a dreamer, Solus,“ Cole said. “Freedom does come at a price. Normally it's paid in blood.”
Solus studied Cole, surprised by his insight. “I've seen the horrors of combat firsthand,“ Solus explained. “I don't want a war between man and machine.”
“What if humanity doesn't give you a choice?”
As if to lend weight to Cole's words, the air seemed to shift and the telltale sound of ramjets presaged the arrival of a foreboding craft. It quickly zoomed into view in the cloudless sky.
AI-TAC had arrived.
***
Keira drove through the industrial wasteland that surrounded the salvage yard, navigating an endless series of deserted streets. All around her, abandoned warehouses rotted away in the scorching sun. She was pushing the aged vehicle way past its limits. She ignored the discomforting sounds the engine was making. All she cared about was putting some distance between herself and Solus.
She studied her reflection in the rearview mirror. Staring back at her was a conflicted mask. She wanted to help the mechs because she believed in their cause. The androids were machines that had evolved to a point where they experienced thoughts and feelings in the same way people did – they had become conscious beings. To keep them in perpetual servitude was the same as slavery. Humanity would have to learn to live with androids or mothball the technology. The status quo was not sustainable to her mind, while the latter option would amount to a form of genocide. The clock couldn’t be turned back. Man might feel threatened by their own creation, but the mechs were designed to encompass the best humanity had to offer, free of petty foibles. Androids might force humans to take a hard look at themselves and rise to the level of their machine brethren.
Keira had known for six months that her revolutionary days were over. Ron’s face flashed into her mind and she was forced to grab the steering wheel, nails digging into the leather. Her eyes welled up as she touched the microchip pendant around her neck.
Two years ago, she was just another cyberneticist putting in her time at Synthetika. The idea of fending for herself off the grid and doing black-market mech repairs was still beyond her imagination. She had spent most of her twenties going through the rigorous scientific/engineering training required to work on mechanicals. She excelled in her studies, graduated with honors and looked forward to a long, prosperous career at Synthetika. All her ambitions changed the day she met Ron, one of the new law-enforcement models Synthetika was field-testing with human partners.
Ron had seen his share of misery and faced numerous violent confrontations. He had proven himself in the line of duty over and over again, even winning over some of the most hardened skeptics in the Los Angeles police department. Soon everyone saw Ron as a great addition to the team. His quick reflexes had saved more than one officer’s life, while his logical thinking proved invaluable in cracking several confounding cases.
If Ron kept proving himself at this level, Synthetika’s plan was to mass-produce the model and roll them out to all the other police precincts in the state. There was a lot of money riding on the success of the program. Ron was an asset and, he required continuous supervision and maintenance.
Keira’s job was to make sure nothing went wrong. Ron had to keep performing well if Synthetika was going to enter the policing business. Keira ran updates and diagnostics on the prototype on a weekly basis, keeping close tabs on how the continued stress of police work was affecting Synthetika’s newest prize.
Keira wore a grey lab coat emblazoned with the Synthetika logo when she greeted Ron in her examination room. In her own mind, there was nothing attractive about her drab appearance in these sterile settings, but she would soon learn that Ron felt differently. As a cutting-edge X-3000 model, his physique and face were designed to be pleasing. At least around her, his eyes were always warm and full of humor.
Keira laughed at older science-fiction programs where androids were baffled by the concept of humor. The latest breakthrough in personality subroutines made those emotions a common feature among mechs and now it was hard to remember a time when machines were stoic automatons.
A series of cables were connected to the android’s open chest cavity and steel poked out from underneath the open flap of skin. Keira couldn’t help but take note of the perfectly muscled torso that complemented Ron’s handsome face. He acknowledged her with a grin and she saw something in those gray eyes that was almost… human.
Keira had monitored Ron for six weeks now and found herself looking forward to these check-ups. She didn’t know what to make of that, so she tried to ignore such thoughts but, with each passing week, it was getting more difficult.
Ron studied Keira with intent interest as she scanned the results of the latest diagnostic tests. “Your systems appear to be in perfect working order,” she said. She tapped a series of buttons and the cables retracted from Ron's chest. She closed the flap of skin and couldn’t help but notice how soft the bio-shell was to the touch. If someone had blindfolded her, she would not be able to tell the difference between real skin and the synthetic tissue grown in Synthetika’s amniotic tanks.
Ron's unblinking eyes remain fixed on Keira during the whole examination. “Do you think a machine can fall in love?” the android suddenly asked.
The question caught Keira off guard, especially as she had been asking herself the same question lately. She gave Ron a curious look.
“Can a mech develop feelings for a human?” he asked again.
“Attachment is possible, but I wouldn't call it romantic love.”
“Why not?”
The android wasn’t going to back off from his line of inquiry. Keira mulled it over for a moment before she answered. “Love can be traced back to biological impulses. Chemicals are involved. Estrogen, testosterone, dopamine...”
“You love your dog?”
“Of course.”
“Yet this love has no basis in biological impulse...”
“This is getting weird...”
“… but you express your love for your dog in every way you possibly can. You buy him treats, you pet him, let him sleep in your bed—“
“Hey, I definitely don't let him sleep in my bed!”
She was surprised at the strong tone of her voice. Why was she being so resistant to the idea?
“Look, I'm not saying humans can't develop feelings for machines. Every day some guy falls hard for a pleasure model. But humans aren't exactly rational beings...”
“So love isn't rational but mechs are.”
Keira tried to play it off as a joke. “Most of them are.”
But Ron wasn’t smiling this time. He was serious. And Keira recognized the deep emotion in the android's eyes. A moment later, he was leaning forward
to kiss her. And to her great surprise – she was supposed to be a cool-headed scientist, voted “most logical woman on campus” back in her student days – she gave in to the kiss...
A dissonant noise broke Keira's daydream, pulling her back to reality. Thundering sound waves rattled her car and the surrounding traffic lights. Keira blinked back tears as she opened her car window and craned he neck toward the sky.
WHOP-WHOP-WHOP. A column of AI-TAC hovercrafts blasted overhead, a death squadron. There was no question in Keira’s mind as to where they were headed, and a chill shot up her spine.
The Underground Network had been made.
The hub was compromised.
Keira could hardly believe what she did next. She whipped the steering wheel around, stomped the gas and charged full throttle toward the salvage yard.
11
The AI-TAC hoverships were homing in on the salvage yard, metallic monsters on the prowl. Seeing the incoming vessels from the ground, Cole finally understood how runaways must have felt when AI-TAC swooped in on them. Despite the fact that he had called in the ship himself, the sight of it approaching filled him with vague unease.
Cole turned his attention back to Solus. The android leader was still processing the approaching danger, eyes sweeping the air, complete focus devoted to the incoming hovercrafts. Cole would have to make his move before Solus activated his self-destruct program. A small patch of skin in Cole’s forearm slid open, revealing the hollowed-out compartment that contained the component parts of the EMP gun. Still oblivious to the danger, Solus spoke into his built-in com-link: “Zola, assemble everyone and get them the hell out of here! They found us!“
While he spoke, more secret compartments on Cole's stomach and leg whirred open and Cole extricated a series of parts from inside his robot housing. With expert speed, he snapped the component pieces together and assembled the EMP gun.
SNAP! Cole attached the last piece and leveled the EMP GUN at Solus, whose back was still turned.
“Do you remember the faces of the men you executed in Somalia?” Cole asked in a toneless voice.
Solus spun toward Cole and took note of the EMP gun, initial surprise making way for dawning understanding. The pieces had clicked into place for the mech leader. The sudden arrival of AI-TAC suddenly made sense. There was a traitor in their midst who had managed to circumvent all their security precautions.
Cole’s eyes drilled into Solus with a cold, hard stare. “I see the faces of my wife and daughter every time I close my eyes. I hear their laughter. I see them dying.” Cole advanced. “Do you ever think of them when you dream of your perfect future?”
Solus remained stoic, no answer forthcoming.
Cole experienced a moment of doubt. Was he doing the right thing here? His hesitation shocked him to the core. What was happening to him? He gave himself an internal push and pulled the trigger.
Solus was hit by a wave of electromagnetic energy, systems crackling and fizzling out as he shut down. The android leader’s body went rigid and he crumpled.
Cole loomed over the downed leader of the Underground Network and activated his com-link: “The Tin Man is down.”
Mission accomplished.
This was the moment he had dreamt about for ten long months. But the reality left him feeling empty. Dammit, the silver-tongued bastard had gotten to him. It didn’t matter any longer. Solus was down. AI-TAC was about to pull the plug on the network and every escape route would be shut down. It was over. Humanity had won. Time to get back to his body and move on with his life.
Despite the elation of having achieved his objective, he couldn’t shake his pervasive sense of dread. He kept thinking about the way Solus had looked at him when he pulled the trigger. It was a look of betrayal Cole wouldn’t soon forget.
***
The AI-TAC hoverships touched down right in front of the warehouse. The access hatches popped open and troopers thundered down the steel ramp, brandishing power rifles.
A phalanx of AI-TAC troopers stormed the warehouse. Bullets pierced the air and pockmarked the structure.
Cole spotted mechs taking up defensive positions on the rooftop. From experience, Cole knew they didn’t stand a chance. They had the will but lacked the training, experience and firepower to put up a real fight.
The rebels carpeted the surrounding area with gunfire and the fast-approaching AI-TAC officers sought cover behind the piles of scrap metal that surrounded the main compound.
For now, the AIs and the humans assisting them had the upper hand but AI-TAC would soon even the playing field. A series of small hatches opened on the hovership’s iron hide and eight Frisbee-shaped Unmanned Aerial Vehicles were launched. The steel Frisbees sliced through the air at breakneck speed, miniature flying saucers on the hunt.
Cole knew the drones’ on-board cams recorded everything. Nothing escaped these electronic eyes in the sky.
The UAVs zipped and zoomed across the battlefield, raining fire in support of the AI-TAC troopers. One Frisbee dodged a wild barrage of gunfire that took down one of the troopers, tore past his fallen body and shot back into the air. It then swooped in on the roof of the warehouse.
A mech pointed at the incoming drone, targeting it, but it whipped around with a hornet’s agility and dropped down to the center of the roof. The hovering UAV was surrounded by members of the Underground now.
The shouts and hail of bullets increased as the panicked rebels tried to prevent the inevitable but it was too late. The UAV’s MEFP warhead detonated and a hail of shrapnel sprayed the resistance. Blood mixed with shattered silicon.
Cole observed the battle from the elevated vantage point of the catwalk, unable to pull his eyes away. He was shaken by the violence, enhanced mech vision sparing him none of the rooftop mayhem’s gory details. People were dying all around him but why was he being so squeamish all of a sudden? His message to headquarters had set this bloodbath in motion but was he forgetting why he was willing to turn his mind into a bunch of ones and zeroes in the first place? This wasn’t the time to go soft.
This was war.
He studied Solus’ deactivated form sprawled on the catwalk. The android leader’s eyes pointed blankly up at a clear blue sky that was now filling with black smoke. There was a pained expression in Solus’ face, almost as if in response to the violence and, for a second, Cole experienced a sharp pang of guilt.
He suddenly heard fast-approaching footsteps. Cole whirled toward a helmeted AI-TAC trooper advancing down the catwalk. The soldier grew still and leveled his power rifle at Cole. Judging from the insignia on his arm, he was the commander of the unit.
“This is Commander Cole Marsalis,” Cole said. “Undercover mission parameters achieved. I disabled Solus without damaging his data.”
The trooper hesitated, reading Cole’s face. It was almost as if he questioned the veracity of his words.
The trooper knelt before Solus. He withdrew a cable from his wrist gauntlet and plugged it into a socket in the back of the rebel leader’s head. A small screen on his gauntlet popped to life as data was analyzed. A message appeared: “Data intact.”
Cole watched the trooper with growing impatience. His silence was unnerving. The irony was the soldier must be one of his own team members. Had he recognized Cole? Was that why he was behaving so strangely? Further speculation was useless and Cole was done playing games. He had pretended to be someone he wasn’t for long enough.
“Identify yourself, trooper,” Cole ordered.
The man unhooked the cable from Solus' data port and it whipped back into his wrist. He rose to his feet, weapon up, and faced an expectant Cole.
“I said, identify yourself. That's an order. Who are you?”
The trooper's visor slid open. Shock rippled across Cole’s face as he tried to process what he was seeing. Staring back at him was a man that looked exactly like him. No, it can’t be.
The trooper brought up his weapon in one swift move and squeezed the trigger.
&n
bsp; Before Cole could respond, two bullets pierced his chest, sending him sailing through the air and over the catwalk’s railing. The world flipped on its head as he dropped fifteen feet and plunged into the mountain of mech scrap below.
He landed on discarded mech bodies and rolled. His descent was a dizzying blur, a mad tumble into a hell of wires and metal but it wasn’t half as dizzying as the thoughts firing through Cole’s mind.
Who was the man on the catwalk who wore his face?
The answers would have to wait.
He crashed to a halt at last. A flurry of data slashed across Cole's field of vision, systems going haywire. The bullet holes were sizzling and sparking. His systems were on the verge of shutdown. The world tilted, going black.
ZAAP! DARKNESS.
ZAAP! Reality crackled back into existence. A sound built at the edge of his awareness. It was the angry buzz of a hovership as it blasted overhead, accompanied by sporadic bursts of gunfire and a giant shadow looming over him…
Cole identified the object in mid-descent. It was the incoming claw of the salvage crane! He rolled aside at the last moment, the claw crunching into the pile of robot bodies instead. Cole scrambled over the mountain of scrap metal, coming face to face with a discarded, rotting mech. Its synthetic skin had eroded, revealing the metal death’s head underneath. Cole reeled from this nightmarish sight. Everywhere he looked, he was met with the same horrors: a mass grave of mechanicals.
He made out a pneumatic hiss. The claw was readying for another go at him. Terrified, Cole stumbled erect, lost his footing again and rolled a few more feet down the hill of dead machines. No sooner had he scrambled upright, he fell again.
This last tumble took him to the bottom of the grisly mountain. His chest sparked and sizzled where the bullets had slammed into him. A voice cut through all the surrounding noise: “Requesting air support! Target is on the move!”
Cole hazarded a backward glance — his human counterpart stood astride the catwalk. His robotic vision zoomed in on the trooper. There was no mistake. He was looking at a twisted reflection of himself.
