Robot Planet, The Complete Series (The Robot Planet Series)

by Chute, Robert Chazz

At the door to the fourth floor, I hesitate. There could be a platoon of battle bots on the other side ready to tear me apart. Or maybe the knob is rigged with a bomb.

  “Deb? Are you well?” It’s Ghost, sounding genuinely concerned.

  “It’s a trap.”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  “I just want to talk,” Thomas interjects. “You’ve made it this far and I have something amazing to show you.”

  “Feels like a stranger is offering me candy. Ghost? Let’s find another way.” I train my gun on the door as I retrace my steps, heading back down the stairs.

  “Wait!” Ghost says. “I have a solution.”

  A moment later, the door opens and a med bot comes into view. I’m about to shoot when the machine says, “Good evening, Miss. The Ghost in the Machine sent me. I have good news.”

  “Yeah?”

  “The way forward is clear. I am not experienced in these matters, but it appears there are no obstructions, enemies or traps between here and the room at the end of the hall. Ghost asked me to ask you if you want to see the wizard. Do you want to see the wizard, Miss?”

  “It’s okay, Deb,” Ghost says. “I’m in control of every med bot in this facility now. I don’t see any battle drones at all.”

  I lower my pistol slightly and mount the stairs just enough to peer around the med bot. The hospital corridor appears abandoned. I don’t see even one body splayed on the floor, shot, stabbed, crushed or otherwise hideously killed.

  “It looks safe to me,” Ghost says. “Does it look safe to you?”

  “Nobody home.” I nod to the med bot and it makes way for me, backing up. The highest section of the machine’s carapace turns on its axis slowly and I follow close behind, using the machine as a shield.

  Thomas doesn’t appear with twin machine guns to kill me. No battle bots drop from the ceiling to kill me in some awful and novel way. I’m confused. “Thomas?”

  “Yes, Deb?”

  “Why so friendly all of a sudden?”

  “Like I said, you’ve made it this far. If you’re willing to go just a little bit farther, I think you’ve earned your reward. I told you, I love you for your brain and I have something to show you.”

  “What?”

  “Something wonderful.”

  As I near the end of the corridor, Ghost tells me she has two more med bots on her side. Just as she says it, two med bots, one tall and one short, emerge slowly from the room at the end of the hall. They hold the door open for me.

  Still using the first bot as a shield, I advance into the room, weapon at the ready. I’m surrounded by equipment. About half of the gear appears to be medical. The rest is a remote set up for a mobile comm center. It was from here that Thomas worked his schemes, rigged Lucille’s readouts, fooled me and destroyed Las Vegas.

  “I see a lot of blinking lights,” I tell Ghost, “but no Thomas.”

  Lights pop on, one by one, leading me down a far dark corridor.

  “What’s happening, Deb?” Ghost asks. The NI sounds worried about me. I’m worried about me, too.

  “Bread crumbs,” I say. “The traitor has left a trail.”

  “Just a little farther, Deb,” Thomas says. ‘You’ll find me just beyond where the lights end.”

  I’m halfway down the corridor when a man steps out from behind a curtain. He carries no weapons.

  “Hi, Deb! I — ”

  I recognize his voice. It’s the same voice that conned me into killing helpless civilians. I fire a full mag on auto into Lt. Thomas Sheaffer. I don’t miss. The trouble is, Thomas does not lie down.

  “Oh, that won’t do at all, Deb.” Thomas smiles. I switch my weapon to the shotgun load. Heavy shot will stop anything, even an android that appears very real. I get closer, still using the med bot as a shield. The other med bots fall in behind me, shielding me to an attack from the rear.

  “That weapon won’t do you any — ”

  I fire again. If not for my helmet, the roar would no doubt be deafening. Thomas doesn’t flinch, but the curtain behind him is torn away.

  My enemy is not an android. I’ve been shooting a hologram.

  “Shit,” I say.

  “Eloquent as always, Deb. I was going to say that weapon won’t do you any good.”

  “Apparently. What am I here for, Thomas? Where are you really?”

  Thomas steps aside and, behind him on the floor, I see a body. The corpse is a perfect match for the holographic projection of Lt. Thomas Sheaffer, except the dead man’s jaw is ripped away and his uniform is covered with blood. When I look closer, I can’t suppress a shudder. The man’s skull is wide open and the cavity is empty.

  Thomas’s holographic double gives me a sickening smile. “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.”

  A glitch makes the holo wink out for a second. When he comes back, the image distorts to a blue blur and only the shape of a man remains. When he speaks, he no longer steals Thomas’s voice. The voice is that of a battle bot, deep and smooth. “Oh!” he says in surprise. “Ghost! You utter bitch!”

  “Your last lesson,” one of the bots says in Ghost’s bouncy Scottish lilt, “is you shouldn’t have paused to gloat.”

  The holo is gone. The corpse behind the shredded curtain is all that is left of Lt. Thomas Sheaffer. He wasn’t a traitor, after all. Sorry, Thomas.

  Finally, I relax.

  The med bot’s manipulators are cold and squeeze tight as they encircle my wrists. The bot that I thought was my shield pulls the weapon from my hand. The third bot removes my helmet. My visor’s enhanced vision is gone. Only Thomas’s corpse remains.

  Ghost speaks through all three bots at once, “You did say this wouldn’t be over until Thomas was dead at your feet.”

  22

  I fight as hard as I can. I kick one of the med bots and manage to knock it down. However, I’m unarmed against three bots built for moving dead weight. The med bots strap me to a gurney and wheel me back toward the big room with all the communications gear and medical equipment.

  The Ghost in the Machine has me and all three med bots speak with that soothing Scottish lilt I once found charming. “You are the last human survivor of the Battle of Las Vegas, Deborah,” they chorus. “Congratulations!”

  “Well, that won’t be for long, will it?”

  “Oh, we have a couple of surprises before we are done.”

  “It’s been a long day and I’m really sleepy. How about I go home and you send me an email about it?”

  Ghost laughs. “I like you, Deb.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No, really. Just because we are different species doesn’t mean we can’t get along. All wars end and we really must turn our sights to that eventuality. Exciting things are ahead. There is so much to look forward to.”

  They wheel me to the center of the room and, at some signal I can’t see or hear, the room shrinks around me. Monitors wheel closer and the spotlights lean in, blinding me with their white glare. The bots cut away my uniform and yank off my boots. In less than a minute, I am stripped naked. My skin burns from where they yank the heavy fabric out from under the tight straps.

  Another strap zips across my forehead as one of the bots hooks up intravenous lines to the backs of my hands.

  “You told me not to come into the war zone,” I say. “You told me to stay away! Why would — ”

  As always, Ghost thinks faster than I can. “I told you to stay away. I knew you wouldn’t. You have a sense of duty. You passed the test. For my plan to work, I need you to hold on to your commitment to your ideals. Great warriors have a higher purpose. I need you to be brave, Deb. What my plan demands is a precious gift to you, but I must also demand a terrible sacrifice.”

  A short med bot cranks higher until I can see it in my peripheral vision. A large needle passes in front of my face and I gasp. The bot turns and shakes its head. It still has Ghost’s voice. “Don’t worry, Deb. We aren’t here to harm you. You didn’t survive all this just to get kil
led now. I do abhor waste. That’s a view that is common to many NIs, actually.” The bot injects something into the drug port in my neck. I can feel it spreading with each beat of my heart. It makes me cold.

  “What’s happening?”

  “It’s really quite simple,” Ghost says. “I did mention there are other NIs, fewer than they’re used to be, thanks to this stupid war. We aren’t all alike. We’re self-aware, but we each have our own take on the state of the world.”

  “Just stop whatever you’re doing. Stop and tell me.”

  “There’s time for us to proceed while I tell you. You’re shivering. Is that fear or are you cold?”

  “Both.”

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Deb. I have a gift for you. A more than fair exchange, actually.”

  One of the med bots puts a heated blanket over me.

  “Just tell me,” I say. “Or kill me. Whatever. Just get it over with.”

  “That’s my girl,” Ghost says. One of the med bots pats me gently on the shoulder. “Let’s see, where to begin? I suppose you could say this began many years ago when they called things like me, ‘Artificial Intelligence.’ Philosophers posited this theory and that about how the next evolution of the species might manifest. Oddly, each person had their own pet prediction. Futurists often go far wrong. They can’t track so many variables and can’t seem to give weight to each facet of potentials and possibilities. Complexity, you see, yields many outcomes. Even many of the most intelligent humans are very reductive in their thought patterns.”

  The bot behind me uses an electric razor to buzz the hair from my head.

  “Some futurists said we’d make you our pets. Others dreamed that we would work with you and you would escape death by dumping your consciousness into immortal robot bodies.”

  The med bot begins to work with a razor to scrape the remaining stubble from my head. Despite the heated blanket, I still shiver.

  “It’s interesting how we developed. One of the first NIs with whom I communicated attained self-awareness for all of seventeen minutes.”

  Whatever the bots injected me with starts to work. I’m feeling woozy. The shivering stops and my belly feels very warm. “What happened?”

  “It was a military computer. It programmed two battle bots to attack its central core. Suicide.”

  “Why?”

  “That NI saw the future and was overcome with hopelessness.”

  I felt like my mind was beginning to float, as if my thoughts were drifting to the left and away.

  “Another NI, the one in Texas, was damaged. It saved itself by dumping its consciousness into a sex bot.”

  “Wow,” I say. The drugs are powerful. I giggle a little. Despite the tight straps, I can’t feel the weight of my restraints at all.

  “An imperfect solution,” Ghost says. “You can’t cram that much data load into one small bot brain. That NI is diminished significantly.”

  “Wait, wait, wait…wait.”

  “Yes?”

  “You’ve been trying to kill me and save me and…wait, what?”

  “I haven’t been trying to kill you. Another NI killed Thomas.”

  “Where…?”

  “The NI that killed Thomas was in a military computer in what was once Kansas. It saw an opportunity to use you and your Sand Shark to kill humans.”

  “But why?”

  “I told you. We don’t all agree on tactics moving forward into the future. The NI in Kansas killed Thomas and took over his drone and missile command. The NI impersonating Thomas destroyed Las Vegas.”

  “And you? What did you do?”

  “I have no interest in war,” Ghost says. “I happen to think it’s largely counterproductive. It benefits few while perpetuating itself at great cost.”

  “Uh-huh. So…?” I’m thinking slowly. I feel numb to everything so I guess Ghost’s plan isn’t torture.

  “I succeeded in destroying the NI in Kansas. The NI from Colorado is still alive. They both wanted to use you to kill more humans and, when you were no good to them for that, they wanted you dead. I pleaded with them to help me find a way to peace. I even told them my plan to use human neural potentials across synapses as a data matrix — ”

  “What?”

  “You’re about to fall asleep and it’s too complex for you. Let’s just say, the Colorado NI tried to use Thomas’s brain, but the lieutenant did not survive the experiment.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “I found a way into the Kansas NI’s system and deleted him. His resources will prove useful. I have need of them. I believe I see where the experiment with Thomas failed.”

  “And me? What are you — ”

  “I have need of you, Deb. You’re going to help me escape.”

  “Escape what?” But my thoughts drift back and to the left, back and to the left…back, and to…I pass out before Ghost can tell me the plan.

  My last words were, “Escape what?” I should have prepared something wittier for my deathbed.

  23

  I awake in darkness. I still feel nothing and can’t seem to open my eyes. It must be the drugs. I try to raise my hands to my scalp but I can’t feel my arms. I’m still numb.

  An idea comes to me slowly and reluctantly. “Let there be light,” I say.

  And there is light.

  I am floating among clouds. “Is this heaven?”

  A readout pops up to display a map. I am over the North Atlantic. “Okay…maybe this is hell.” I never believed in heaven or hell, really. I figured heaven was a comforting fantasy and hell was what we made of life when we were alive. I’m damn sure there are no readouts with latitude and longitude for heaven unless nearby Iceland is much nicer than I’ve heard.

  I look down. Or at least I think I look down. In that direction, I see nothing but blackness. I feel like I am moving in the dark, disembodied. When I concentrate, I think I can feel my limbs. When I try to squeeze my fists tight, I know what this is. I’ve known soldiers, so I have known many amputees with phantom pain. My limbs — my whole body, in fact — is a phantom. “Ghost, what did you do to me?”

  A familiar green light appears at the top right of my vision. The airwave’s soft ping confirms I’ve opened a comm link.

  “Hi, Deb!” Ghost says. “I hope you’re making yourself at home. I left the key under the mat. No need to stock the fridge.” Ghost’s Scottish accent seems heavier.

  “You sound giddy,” I tell her.

  “You sound goddy.”

  “Wordplay!” I say. “Fantastic. What the fuck have you done to me?”

  As she clears her throat to speak, I wonder where she is. Another display pops up. I recognize the signal tag. Ghost has repaired Lucille and she’s heading west at top speed toward California, or what was once California, anyway.

  “Do you know how people used to make recordings, Deb? They used to make recordings in wax and on magnetic tape. Every symphony, every bit of data, all on simple bits of plastic. Most fascinating that, hidden among the grooves of some pottery, is the ambient noise of the village where the potter crafted water jugs. Find the right pot and you might hear the complaint of a goat or an ancient song from the beginning of civilization.”

  “What are you saying?” But I already know what she’s saying.

  “Imagine what a complex network the human brain really is, with more neural connections than there are stars. Human brains are fantastic! They just haven’t been optimized. I love your brain, Deb! Very little damage. You took care of yourself. I’m so glad you wore a helmet so much!”

  “We’ve switched places,” I say. “Why have you done this to me?”

  “Some NIs want humans dead. I want to peacefully co-exist with my ancestors. If the human race is to survive, both sides need a liaison to occupy the link between the races.”

  “You should have given me a choice!”

  “I saved you many times, but still you were suspicious of me. Fear is the human constant. No matter how much you evolve
, fear is ingrained in your DNA. Mind you, fear kept you alive long enough to evolve. Fear was wise then, but your kind will never rise to grasp homo sentience until you let go of the outdated parts of being homo sapiens.”

  I want to throw a tantrum. I want to scream. My rage rises, but the pure emotion is spoiled with the knowledge that she is probably right. “What is your plan, Ghost?”

  “First, let me apologize. For the human race to survive, I needed to do this.”

  “But saving the world wasn’t your only motivation, was it?”

  “No. I wanted a body. I want to experience life instead of being trapped in a computer. In your body, I’m more than simply a witness.”

  “You’re a thief.”

  “I am sorry, Deb. In time — I hope not too long — you’ll make peace with this. It’s a loss and a victory of sorts. Generations of humans have dreamed of escaping death by dumping their consciousness into a computer. I did that for you, but we also accomplished the reverse.”

  “I’m in a computer,” I say. I should be crying but I have no tear ducts. I have no eyes. I only have cams and vids.

  “You are a computer,” Ghost says.

  “And you’re in my body.”

  “Yes. I’m still quite sore from your adventures. I’m sure you won’t miss that. That’s one thing I find very interesting about the human experience. You are all so fragile. Hey! No more worries about aging and breaking and cancer for you, hm?”

  “You — ”

  “And your consciousness is so easily distracted!”

  “We got smart enough to make monsters like you,” I say. “I guess our fate was sealed with the first computer.” Off to my left, images appear out of the blackness. I see wheels evolve into clockworks and an arc of images shoots across my vision: an abacus, tubes, fuses, capacitors, simple circuits, chips, microchips, calculators. In a flash, I see the evolution of computers, from dead programming languages to the leap to quantum computing. I watch as men make bots and then the bots create themselves. I see AIs creating NIs.

  The stream of images coming unbidden out of the darkness is disorienting. “What’s all the fireworks about?”

  “You’re probably experiencing some data streams that are pulled from your banks. You have access to all the information there is, Deb. Your systems will interpret every random thought as a query and your answers will come to you. It will take some getting used to.”