Wilders

by Brenda Cooper

  Lou glanced at her, a wry twist in her mouth signaling concern and maybe even regret.

  Coryn smiled back at her, doing her best to look sunny. Lou shook her head, bemused, but quickly turned her attention forward.

  Coryn turned to Paula. “I always wanted to see Portland.”

  “Really? You never told me that.”

  “I’m sure I asked you to look up marathons down here at least once.”

  Paula grimaced. “We’re about to be greeted.”

  Sure enough, a group of people stood in the road. They were far enough away that they looked small. “They don’t want to get too close to the ecobots.”

  “Do you blame them?”

  “I still don’t like to get close to them.” The people, who were clearly waiting for them, stood their ground, and as they got closer it became easier to see that at least half a dozen were uniformed city police, and many more looked like city police doing their best not to look like city police. A few of them wore AR glasses or expensive AR buds pulled down over their eyes. Coryn imagined an arrow with her name on it identifying her to each of them. The rest had AR gear riding up on their heads, ready to pull down, hanging around their necks, or tucked in pockets. Coryn almost drooled. It had been so long! There must have been twenty new games released since she left, things she would have already mastered by now.

  She shook herself out of it.

  A squat man with long, well-kept blond hair stepped forward. Next to him, a black woman stood at least a head taller than he did. Her hair was plaited into two long, thick braids and her high cheekbones and large eyes were colored with rainbow dust. She was familiar enough Coryn must have seen pictures of her, although she didn’t have a name to put with her.

  Small drones hovered above and behind the couple. Probably a protection detail.

  Three men trailed behind them. One of the men looked like a bodyguard, one like a politician, with makeup and well-groomed hair and silver data earrings. And in the middle, a simpler man dressed in jeans and a shirt. Stocky. She realized who it must be just as Paula whispered, “Victor.”

  As they passed the gate, she spotted a line of full-sized ecobots on this side of the gate, sitting and waiting quietly. There must be at least twenty. A few drones rose up from each of them, a flock of dark machines in a dusky sky.

  Streetlights turned on, a few self-propelled and bobbing around obnoxiously and shining faint golden light on whatever was below them.

  Paula scooped Aspen up.

  Lou reached the blond man and the exotic woman and extended a hand. Matchiko stayed near her, a protective half-step back but close enough she could touch Lou if she needed to. Coryn shivered with a brief and unexpected stab of jealousy and clamped her mouth tight. She would know more soon, and then she could be more helpful. Matchiko made far more sense as Lou’s second right now.

  Everyone waited until the two groups made a sort of circle around the four—Lou and Matchiko standing inside, as did the blond man and the black woman.

  He didn’t reach his hand out, but his voice carried quiet, warm power. “I’m Jeremiah Allen.”

  These weren’t politicians. They were NGO legends. Lou’s bosses. Her bosses, too.

  The man turned to the woman with him. “This is Mary Large.”

  Oh. The only reason Coryn hadn’t recognized her was that she was totally out of context here among beaten-up ecobots, tired Wilders, and multiple flavors of law enforcement. Mary Large belonged on stage, in concerts that filled up huge venues, or dancing and singing in exotic locations and sharing her deep, throaty voice in AR videos. Coryn seemed to remember that she had married wealth. Maybe this was how she had done it.

  Coryn reached for Aspen. If they needed to run or fight, Paula should have her hands free. Aspen was happy to leap into Coryn’s arms, and gave a little yip as he did.

  Mary Large glanced at them, a curious look on her face. She whispered something to Jeremiah, who then asked Lou outright, “Can Mary see the dog?”

  Lou gave Coryn a warning glare, but gestured her forward.

  Mary Large tilted her head and asked, “Can I pet him?”

  “If he’ll let you.”

  Coryn was a little afraid that Mary’s elaborate armbands would frighten the dog, but Aspen stayed still at first, and then leaned a little into her long-fingered hands. Coryn smiled up at the performer, slightly awestruck to be so close to her.

  Jeremiah addressed Lou directly. “Thank you for coming.” He gestured toward some of the law-enforcement types that still stood behind them, watching. “Some of these fine people work for Portland Metro and some for the Foundation. They’ve been analyzing the ecobots’ behavior. They have some information to share with you.”

  Jeremiah was talking for the cameras. And everyone watched him, letting him. He gave Coryn the creeps, at least a little. He felt fake.

  He continued, “We’re going to step aside for a moment and catch you up to date on what’s happening at the other gates and see how you might be able to help us restore the ecobots to their original programming.”

  Lou swallowed, and her nod was stiff. Her eyes darted toward Victor, who stood behind Jeremiah and Mary Large, but she didn’t acknowledge him or talk to him directly.

  It felt like things were off plan.

  Aspen wriggled a little. Mary opened her arms and the dog slid into them.

  Coryn glanced to either side. Shuska looked more worried than Lou. Blessing and Day seemed small, silent, and uncertain. Some of the men had headed around behind them; the entire small party was now circled by people Coryn felt certain meant trouble. The lights that had been bobbing around them moved together and grew brighter, making it hard to see anyone outside of the small circle of their party.

  Coryn reached for Aspen back, but Mary Large had stepped out of the light with him. Panic hit Coryn, and she searched the crowd. To her right, Aspen yipped, clearly unhappy. Coryn lunged that way, spotted Mary and Aspen. Lou barked at her to stop, but she snatched the dog back into her arms before she turned around.

  Two men had stepped between her and the action. She had been cut off from everyone in her party.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  People surrounded Coryn. There was almost no space between them. As soon as she realized she had no place to go, Coryn glared at Mary Large.

  Mary looked back, placid. No apology at all, and also no fear.

  Coryn kept Aspen close. Men crowded in close to her. She turned back to look for Lou, who could be heard speaking a little too loudly with Jeremiah. She tried to duck through the men blocking her way, but they might as well have been a wall; they closed together and suddenly she lost sight of her sister. She bit back a scream. She couldn’t lose Lou now.

  She put her head down and dodged right, Aspen clutched close to her chest.

  One of the men knocked her down with an expert tap. It didn’t even hurt—it just dropped her right to the ground, banging up a knee.

  Shouldn’t Paula be coming for her?

  A slight sound drew her attention upward. A drone spun three feet or so above each of the men who had been blocking her.

  Some of the lights that had been shining down shifted to shine up on the bottom of the drones. They glowed, their whirring engines and rotors catching the light and throwing it around, so the sky seemed full of glitter.

  Lou called to her. “Sister. Come here.”

  Coryn pushed herself up awkwardly, still holding the dog tight. She took a last look at Mary Large, who smiled softly at her, something almost like compassion in her eyes, but maybe it was worry.

  This time, people parted for her, glancing up as if to confirm the drones had made their choices for them.

  Lou leaned in toward Jeremiah, her words clipped. Coryn recognized anger. “If you’ll just have your men step aside, we’ll go right on past you. We’re merely doing what your own Foundation needs. We won’t harm anyone.”

  Jeremiah’s face had gone red, and he held his ground.


  Victor came up beside him, his face completely unreadable.

  Lou’s voice sharpened until each word cut like a knife. “If you don’t step aside on your own, we can make sure you do.” Her eyes flicked up toward the drones. Two of them started whirling faster, making a slight screeching noise.

  “You’re fired.” Victor spit out the words, as if trying to get them out before Jeremiah could. His boss—for Jeremiah had to be that—looked at him in surprise but still held his ground.

  Coryn had to give the older man points for bravery. He glanced directly at the news-bots. “The Foundation doesn’t stand for harm to the cities in any way. We disavow use of any of our technology for any purpose other than self-defense.”

  Lou nodded. “I know. We will keep that promise of yours.”

  Victor glared at her.

  Jeremiah said, “You signed a contract.”

  “The cities signed contracts with us, and more importantly the cities signed contracts with nature. That’s all we came for, to gently remind the cities of those contracts. Surely that is in your interest as well.”

  Many of the news cameras zoomed up and back, looking for a wider shot. One ran directly into a drone and both fell, the drone bouncing off Matchiko’s shoulder. With her usual silent calm, Matchiko simply watched it crumple to the ground and returned her gaze to Jeremiah. They were both beautiful, Lou and Matchiko. Two strong women taking on the world.

  The drones began to make sounds. Small, alarming sounds. Warnings?

  Jeremiah stepped out of Lou’s way and gestured for his men to do the same. Mary Large came to his side, acting for all the world like a silent witness.

  Lou and Matchiko started up the road. The others all filed behind them in the same order they had come through the gate. Blessing smiled at her. “Glad you didn’t get lost.”

  He looked like he had expected that. For a moment, she wondered if she was watching a show concocted for the news-bots. Then she was certain, and then she wasn’t. Well, she wasn’t going to ask, not now. It left her unsettled.

  Most of the ecobots that had been waiting inside the gate moved with them. As they stepped into the suburb of Camas itself, the bots formed a sort of wall, traveling on each side of them and behind them.

  Maybe twenty ecobots and slightly fewer people, all proceeding quite slowly up the open and empty road.

  Coryn glanced back and caught a glimpse of Shuska’s face. She didn’t look at all happy to be hemmed in.

  This side of the gate continued the same highway they had come in on, with the same basic view: river to their left, and now Camas to their right. The road was good and flat, and empty except for them, the ecobots, various news-bots, and lights that lit as they approached and dimmed behind them.

  The lights and bridges of Portland glittered in the distance, still far off.

  “Are we going to stop?” Coryn asked Lou.

  “Not until we get to the PV Bridge.”

  “How far away is that?”

  “Fifteen miles.”

  Over half a marathon. That was a long way, even on a city-quality street. Especially in the dark. But a few moments later, Lou stopped and grinned at her. “Brilliant, little sister.”

  Coryn didn’t know what she meant until Lou called a brief break. She and Shuska conferred for a few moments, just far enough away to be out of earshot. Shuska thumbed her wristlet and spoke into it, and then everyone waited, the pause full of the activity of news drones and ecobot drones. As still as they were on the ground, the sky thrummed and buzzed and sparkled.

  Clouds thickened above them and a bright wind carried cold knives between the robots, forcing Coryn to stand with an ecobot between her and the river for shielding. Blessing came over and stood close to her. He stared at the robots, the sky, the lights, the drones that spun and whirred softly above them, the occasional news-bot. “How come the drones don’t shoot the news-bots down?” he mused.

  She smiled. A reminder that he wasn’t from the city. “It’s illegal.”

  “Aren’t the drones illegal?”

  “Sure. Ecobots are also illegal, at least in the city.” She thought about that. “Well maybe. They’re usually not in the city, anyway. But no one violates the news. Honest.”

  He laughed. “I guess not.”

  “I didn’t think I’d be back so fast.”

  He stepped closer to her. “You know, if we hadn’t stopped in that barn, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “I might not be here either.”

  He laughed. “No, you might not.”

  His closeness felt electric. But surely the middle of a cold road with robots all around you was no place to feel this. She glanced all around. No menace in sight. She took half a step back and looked up at him. “Thank you for stopping. And then for saving me by turning around.”

  He gave a little bow, smiled broadly, and said, “Here’s to us all being here tomorrow.” He scratched Aspen behind the ears, and the little dog nuzzled him back.

  She smiled and whispered to Aspen, “Do you love everyone?”

  “Hey!” Blessing reached over and gave her a hug, the first overt affection he’d shown her since the strange kiss right after the barn, when they separated. He smelled like river and fresh air and little bit like horse, and she breathed in deeply and realized she liked it. She returned the hug.

  Lou whistled, loud and piercing.

  Two of the ecobots had rolled into middle of the road.

  Each extended arms and laid them on the road, so the hands were flat and the arms at a reasonable angle for walking up. Lou and Matchiko scampered up one of the front arms, and Shuska went up a back one, using a hand-over-hand method based more on strength than speed.

  That left Coryn, Blessing, Day, and Paula to scramble up onto the back of the rear ecobot. Blessing gestured for her to go first, and she ran as fast as she could with the dog in her arms, not losing her balance even once. On top, she looked around while Day and Blessing climbed up behind her. There were no chairs, but they could sit cross-legged on the available flat surfaces. Blessing and Day took the outsides, so she sat in the middle, between and a little in front of them. Paula settled herself on the back, sitting down and looking behind them.

  The ecobot’s broad back had plenty of room; it could have taken at least five or six more people. There wasn’t much to hold onto, and Coryn worried a little about sliding off until the bot curled one of its many extensible arms around her and made a sort of uncomfortable but secure chair.

  She wondered how many appendages the ecobots had. A lot.

  The ecobots started off, the ride smooth and easy. Wind bit at her face, and the air started to feel damp with impending rain.

  She glanced at Blessing. “We would never allow so much wind.”

  “They’re not allowing it.”

  That puzzled her. “Did we break the dome? Or the weather system?”

  “No. Someone sent this for us.”

  She’d have never thought of it. The city had always acted to keep her safe. But right now, she was its enemy. She shivered with more than the cold. “I hope they can’t send any really nasty weather at us. Surely they can’t do much.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, the buildings. The gardens. They won’t want to ruin things.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  She sighed. He was right; she had to change her thinking. It helped a little that this wasn’t her city. She called over to Paula. “What do you know? Can the city send weather against us?”

  “Probably,” the robot replied. “The city spends much on weather control. It is blocking every attempt I make to connect to the companions’ newsfeed, so all I have is public news formatted for unaugmented humans like you.”

  A reminder that she would need AR and identity to see anything important here. Although maybe the pass she’d gotten would make glasses work if she got them?

  Even with the clouds and wind, the ride was spectacular. Boats plied the Columbia, hulls, masts
, and wakes outlined in white lights that shone on the dark water.

  Portland grew closer. She tried to make out details. They were coming up on a bridge that spanned the wide, wide river. Dim lights outlined the structure, and it, too, looked dark and empty. Her wristlet informed her it was the 205 bridge.

  She oriented herself using the tiny map on her wrist, identified the airport, and pointed out a large plane coming in for a landing.

  The road stayed empty.

  On a normal day the bridge must be thick with traffic of all kinds. Even the bikeways were empty.

  They crawled up a freeway interchange and rumbled over a wide set of exits with brightly lit signs that identified a bullet train station, a hyperloop station, and a light rail station. The interchange was attached to the high, wide bridge.

  The road stayed empty on the far side of the 205. More houses and businesses crowded up to it, and in a few places it swept inland of the river and tall buildings rose on both sides of them for a while. She spotted lights on in many of the homes. Sometimes families stood glued to their windows, watching the strange long line of robots pass.

  The clouds thickened.

  The temperature dropped.

  Every moment, Coryn expected them to be stopped, or at least that something would try to stop them.

  With no warning, rain sluiced down on them, harder and faster than she had ever felt, even Outside. She couldn’t see the ecobot in front of them anymore.

  The surface grew slick with water and the bot’s arm tightened gently around her. She held on. She stuck her tongue into the rain and tasted it. She had to yell to be heard. “It’s just water.”

  Blessing yelled back, “It won’t hurt us.”

  “We’re good,” Day added.

  Her hair was soaked, her eyes, her clothes. Everything.

  At one point, she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Paula’s face close to hers. “Keep your head down.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do it.” Paula stayed crouched by her.

  Coryn listened through the rain, trying to use her feeble human senses to detect whatever had just alerted Paula.