Cyborg Girls

by Jane Brooke

  “Jane, how are you girl friend?”

  “Just fine Captain.”

  “We’re ready, correct?”

  “Yes Captain, we are.”

  “Percentage of success?”

  “I’m sorry Captain. Many variables. Impossible to compute. Please, not to worry. Jane will do her best.”

  “I know you will Jane. Thank you. Don’t forget I have a surprise for you.”

  “I haven’t forgotten Captain. I am very curious and excited. We are GO at 12 PM.”

  “Yes, perfect. Have a great night Jane.”

  “Sleep well, MY Captain.”

  “Thank you Jane.”

  Venus shut down the mike, and stared at the multiple box videos of Control the prison and even a live feed of the CCSBM Space Ship orbiting above the planet a thousand kilometers in space.

  Thinking, roaming her data banks in her mind, she could not think of anything that she had missed.

  Then the Slakes came to her mind.

  They were deep in the sewers, mostly under The worker Villages eating their human waste and garbage. Mostly, she was not concerned with them.

  Looking at Krull, she smiled, stood walked back to the bed and lay next to him. Spooning him, she laid her hand on his chest and monitored his life functions. Jane had been correct. His heart and lungs, if nothing were to be done, would fail in less than three years.

  Her plan, if successful perhaps might rectify that, she did not know. Not needing sleep, she closed her eyes and went into her Cyborg Dream world.

  As she lay there, she saw white beaches, gulls, a glistening sun and a green ocean edging along a great ocean.

  Sitting on the white pearl sand was a brown skinned Krull, and he looked so handsome.

  He was smiling. Smiling at her.

  1 AM, DEEP in cell block #3, where the screams could not be heard, King Mohammad, all six foot eight, two hundred kilos plus of him was strapped to The Electro Table.

  Lying prone on the chrome table, chromium straps were attached to his wrists and ankles, and even he, filled with fury and eyes like red ball bearings could not escape.

  Next to him on a table was The Electro Machine, probes attached to heavy cables attached to it.

  Standing there watching, his riding crop under his arm, General Clark and Warden Hendley looked with disgust at the behemoth. King Mohammad’s eyes were almost rabid looking as he leered though the tattoo eyes of the cobra painted on his face.

  Blood and spittle were falling down his lips into his beard and his body was covered with perspiration.

  Attached to his temples, chest and gentiles’ were the Electro probes, with cables leading back to the machine. Wearing a white smock, a technician stood with his hand on the lever.

  Tapping Mohammad on his forehead with the crop, General Clarke laughed, looked at Hendley who had a smug look on his face.

  “What say Hendley, do you think The Beast understands now?”

  King Mohammad grunted out something and, then went quiet, a look of homicide welded into his eyes.

  “He does seem to have his panties in a twist. Perhaps not just yet, Sir.”

  General Clark laughed, looked at Mohammad, tapped his forehead with his and said sadistically.

  “And you. Do understand yet, you our ours?”

  King Mohammad grinned at The General, and the grin drove a chill into Clark’s spine as he growled.

  “I kiiill you last.”

  Taking a step backwards, he was un-nerved by the reply. Angry, he looked at the technician and pointed his crop at the machine.

  “Crowley, remind him who the real King is here.”

  The technician nodded, pressed the lever. The Electro Machines red light went to blue and began to whirl internally. As the electricity blazed down the cables, sparks and flames began to spark off of King Mohammad’s temples, chest and gentiles. His black teeth barred and he bellowed as his body vibrated out of control. His torso violently bucked, his back arched and he lost consciousness.

  Clark looked at him in disgust. He nodded at Technician Crowley to end it. Crowley pushed the lever back into its slot. The blue light went to red.

  “Not so tough after all. The filthy buggers are all the same. End it. Get the hog back to his cell.”

  At that moment King Mohammad’s eyes opened and they came back to life and leered at General Crowley. His lips twitched and he mumbled something.

  Placing the crop under his massive chin, Clark lifted his chin, and cynically said. “What’s that old-man?”

  “I Kiiiil you last.”

  General Clark laughed as he looked at Warden Hendley.

  “Get IT out of here.”

  He turned and with a hitch in his step walked out of the room.

  AT 8 AM, after breakfast with his doll in their room and still four hours to Zero Hour, and as had been discussed at dinner, Krull at been given the three dollar tour of the prison by Warden Hendley.

  The main population was housed in three tiers, row after row of individual black carbon steel constructed cells with walk way ramps edging out in front of them. The population, on an ever revolving death chart, was at about two-thousand.

  The most dangerous, many pure homicidal sociopaths, like King Mohammad were warehoused in what they called The Tombs, one story below the main population.

  Lightly guarded by black uniformed, carbine carrying Guards, there was one way in, and one way out. Connected at the entrance of the glass tunnel leading to Command, was a massive two meter glass door, manned by three guards. With side arms on their hips, they were boringly sitting at a control center. There were flat screen monitors showing every aspect of the prison on consoles in front of them.

  Also, as was the norm, small video squares showed the worker villages, shuttle bays, as well as the main room of British Moon Central Command.

  Since the most advance computer the world had ever seen (Jane) ran the entire show, security, shuttle maintenance bays, worker schedules; shuttle’s IN, shuttle’s OUT, etc, the guards were just an afterthought to the entire prison. Mostly the guards along the complex were bored out of their bloody minds. To a one, they all knew the plight of the worker/slaves that awaited them once in their return shuttle back to Earth.

  Not one gave a good God dam about it.

  Krull had asked and had received permission to see where King Mohammad was housed. Warden Hendley had agreed.

  Moving down an elevator, they had moved along a dozen isolated heavily fortified cells, all stashed with the most dangerous and insane prisoners.

  Even sociopathic monsters have an urge to survive, and like to eat at times, and these were the men that were used deep in the mines. A week would pass; maybe a month if they were hearty and, then they would die gruesome deaths.

  In Commands mind, every cockroach had its day.

  Stalling in front of King Mohammad’s cell, Krull looked at him lying on his cot. He looked at Warden Hendley and asked.”Do you mind Warden. I’d like a moment here.”

  Smiling, and thinking that Krull, mostly because of the bionic hardware replacing his arm wanted to tease The King, he nodded. He turned and walked down the hall and out the door.

  Krill hesitated for a moment as King Mohammad sat, and with his massive feet twitching on the floor, and savagery in his eyes, he grinned through broken and black teeth at Krull and seethed. “Krull.”

  Krull smiled, looked around, and then from his waist band, under his black officers tunic, he withdrew a 357 magnum, with a clip of 13 rounds of hollow points in it. He smiled again as he saw that The King saw it too.

  Freeze Frame

  Revenge is always a tonic taken with caution, yet some men never can get the elixir out of their minds. Almost in Slow Motion, Krull then lifted the magnum, dug three 13
in the slot clips, and then to King Mohammad’s he threw it through the bars.

  King Mohammad, obviously confused leered at the clips and magnum nudging against his filthy feet.

  He looked at a smiling Krull with questions in his red eyes.

  Krull smiled and said.

  “Guess what King, you’re going to a television star.”

  Not waiting for a reply, Krull turned, walked to the door, and exited the dungeon. The reinforced glass door slid shut behind him.

  Bending, King Mohammad lifted the clips and 357 Magnum to his eyes and the grinned at them as he whispered. “I Kiiiil you last.”

  AT exactly 12 PM and one hour too Zero Hour, the video conference between Warden Hendley on British Moon and Vice Admiral Bryan at CCSBM went on line. Everyone at CCSBM was excited about Hendley and General Clarks visit. Boredom was paramount deep in space. A grand fete was promised and lots of CHEERIOS were proffered.

  It took a moment for the General and Warden to walk from the room, for a grand farewell breakfast had been promised.

  The instant the video conference went dead no one noticed the golden ceiling dome that was Jane as it began to flicker and pulse. Instantly, every computer monitor on CCSBM and British Moon began to flicker, went black.

  In a micro-moment, the feeds reappeared back on the multiple of hundreds of monitors on CCSBM and the planet. Of course, since Jane was infallible, who would ever think that everything was not spot on.

  Though General Clark and Warden Hendley were long gone, munching away on Scones and Crumpets, and drinking Earl Grey English tea, what Vice Admiral Bryan and his fifteen techs and officers on CCSBM saw, was something very, very different?

  What showed in the monitors of course was that Satellite Bubble Beaming as it always had been was working perfectly. It also showed that all functions on CCSBM were functioning at One-Hundred percent. Multiple Monitors also showed that Command Central, The slave villages, the prison as well as Shuttle #21 on its carriage, steam and smoke filtering out of its twin tail engine spits look well. Two armed guards at the tubular tunnel exit, still not hermetically sealed to the shuttle port were standing in the tunnel.

  Around Shuttle #21 were four blue Hermo suited sealed tech workers, manning fuel tanks, and rechecking on consoles, from the computer Jane, last minute flight programs and trajectories for the visit in less than one hour to CCSBM.

  As Vice Admiral Bryan, bored to tears glanced at a monitor feeding him the info from Command Central on British Moon, he saw General Clark and Warden Hendley chatting as their black uniformed minions stared at monitors, and scurried around them doing their jobs.

  What he did not know was that he was watching a reengineered database programs system reset of a complicated re-programming of the entire computer generated systems of his space vehicle and British Moon, including all Earth communications being fed back into space.

  In fact, he was, as was everyone else, watching preprogrammed downloads of Holographic Image Modem Programs that Jane had created, and of course was just STEP #1 in perhaps the most outrageous Great Escape ever envisioned by man, or computer for that matter.

  Jane had wanted to put The General and Warden in pink uniforms. But laughing with Her Captain, they had decided not to.

  Her sense of humor had been growing, and she felt good knowing more surprises, perhaps, if THEY made it, which she was not certain that they would, was on hand.

  She could still not wait for Her Captains surprise. But she knew that patience was a young computer girl’s best friend.

  STANDING together in their room, both staring out through the window at deep space, and both having their wrap around head phones and mouth pieces on, Adray turned, took both of Krull’s hands and said.

  “I love you...Are you ready.”

  He shrugged his shoulders, smiled, leaned in and kissed her, backed away from her and smiled.

  “Hell yes. Let’s do it.”

  Adray giggled and, then got very serious.

  Both were now painted out in their Silver Skins, heavy work boots on their feet. Adray moved to Krull, looked at him seriously, reached forward and gave his twin shoulder holsters carrying both magnums a hard tug. She nodded, then took his 324 Laser Canon, took it from Krull’s hands and scrutinized it.

  She pressed a red button. A green one replaced it as the carbine began to hum and she handed an amused, but deadly serious Krull his Cannon.

  “Keep that ready.” She said no mirth in her voice.

  Looking at her twin Samurai swords stitched to her back, and the magnum hanging on her stick hips in its holster, he saluted her.

  “Yes Sir.”

  She looked at him with a-rye-look on his lips and punched him in the shoulder.

  “Oh You.”

  Krull smiled as Venus, His Captain went deadly serious. “Jane, count-down please.”

  “15 seconds Captain.” Even Jane sounded serious now.

  Through the small microphones attached to the wire on their wrap around head phones, they both, reborn hard now, soldiers now, tensed.

  ”7,6,5,4...”

  Krull winked at Adray, she winked back.

  THE WORLD seemed to freeze for a moment, as dead silence permeated the planet.

  Then, every Video Monitor in the Worker/Slave Villages, as well as in the prisons and Central Command centers began to show the same beautiful British woman that had cajoled 24/7 the paradise that awaited the workers that had survived their four years of hell on the planet.

  At CCSBM and at Command Central on Earth nothing had changed and everything looked as ordinary, for why wouldn’t it. Jane never fucked up and everyone knew it.

  This time there was a different message from THE Jane created holographic female and as Clark and Hendley were stuffing their mouths with one last crumpet, their jaws dropped.

  “Workers, you have worked so hard, you have earned and deserve you’re rewards. But this is you’re reward that you will receive for toiling and dying on this planet.”

  Flicker, flicker, flicker the video screen went.

  Then, there they were. Thousands of the near dead workers boarding their return shuttle to Earth, to rightly reap what they had sewn. There was General Clark and Warden Hendley watching the shuttle on their monitor as it ripped kilometer after kilometer into the black void.

  In horror, Clark and Hendley watched as the button was pushed and the shuttle vaporized in flames and smoke and human debris.

  Stunned, Clark looked at Hendley and with bugged eyes, and hearts hammering in terror, they both stood, and ran out of the dining room.

  Once back into Central Command, they looked frantically at the monitors, and tech and officers equally staring in abject terror at the video that kept showing in a loop the video Jane had created.

  “JANE, JANE, WHAT IS HAPPENING?” General Clark screamed.

  “Vacay...Vacay General. Moon river, farther than a star...” She said back to him.

  Leering at Hendley in shock, Clark screamed. “ABORT JANE....ABORT JANE...”

  “Moooooon Riiiiiver.....Moooon Riiiiver.”

  Then to Clark’s absolute horror, the entire domed building seemed to vibrate. Loud CLICKS reverberated from inside the entire structure. Red and blue lights began to strobe on and off as a thundering alarm bellowed through the structure.

  “SECURITY ALERT...SECURITY ALERT...PRISON SECURITY COMPROMISED...OUTER ATMOSPHERE DOORS COMPROMISED...ALERT...ALERT.”

  Everything seemed to go into Slow Motion and Freeze Frame as for a micro moment; everything grew silent.

  Then explosions and gun fire could be heard, and shrieking and death screams from the guts of the prison and outside of the complex wailed through the glass reinforced walls of Central Command.

  Instantly the message from Jane’s Holographi
c girl friend changed. All of the monitors now showed forty-thousand enraged prisoners, carrying axes, shovels, crow bars, pix axes and knives storming the wall that kept them at bay from Central Command and the prisons.

  Clark gasped, as he heard more explosions, shrieks and screams and gun shots deep in the prison, beyond the glass tunnels entrance/exit doors. Three of the monitors blinked and, then showed two thousand of the most savage and insane creatures ever placed in the world, as they murdered guards and rampaged running through the prison.

  General Clarke gasped, for they were running and led by King Mohammad and they were moving directly toward the glass tunnel that connected Central to the prisons.

  Clark looked at Hendley, he looked back at him.

  “THE SHUTTLE...EVERYONE TO THE SHUTTLE.”

  In unison, Clark and Hendley, as well as the rest of their tech and officer crew bolted to the octagon glass door, leading down The Shoot tunnel to Shuttle #21.

  More gun shots, screams and gun fire could be heard from the innards of the prison as General Clark slapped his hand on the laser scanner.

  “Yes, How can I help you General Clarke?”

  “JANE...OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR...OPEN IT.” He screamed.

  “Say please.”

  Taking a step back, he leered at Hendley and heard an explosion boom outside.

  “WARNING WILL ROBINSON...WARNING WILL ROBINSON...EXTERIOR WALLS BREECHED.”

  “OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR JANE.” Warden Hendley bellowed.

  “Why?”

  “BECAUSE I”M BLOODY WELL GIVING YOU A DIRECT COMMAND.”

  “NO.”

  “WHAT, WHAT DO YOU MEAN, NO.”

  “You’ve never been nice to me, General. Have a nice day.”

  Stunned, his eyes looked like hub caps as he banged at the glass, reinforced door with his fists and screamed.

  “OPEN THE DOOR...OPEN THE DOOR YOU BITCH.”

  Wrong word, wrong time and lessons learned.

  Never, ever, ever, ever call some crazy doll who had her digital finger on THE DIGITAL SWITCH a BITCH.