Dark Humanity

by Gwynn White

  The robot has already stepped to the side as this happens, and easily catches Sidney in its open arms. For a moment, she panics, wanting to jump out of its reach and run for her life.

  But it twists to the side as more of the ceiling falls. Then, with the cat in its shadow, it runs out the door, and keeps going down the stairs. It doesn't stop until it reaches the outside of the building.

  Sidney guesses her other explosives must have worked because as it ran, she heard another blast followed by another, and the eastern portion of the building’s penthouse turn to rubble.

  Okay, she thinks. There goes that idea. How is she going to kill this thing now, without a single explosive left to her name? The knapsack, still snugly on her back, contains nothing she can use to protect herself from her—it, she tells herself. Yes, it looks like a woman.

  But it's an it. It continues to move, to run in the dark. Sidney's so tired that the movement makes her close her eyes for a moment, but she pinches herself back awake. The last thing she needs right now is to fall asleep just to, what? Die the moment the bot discovers she’s sick?

  Still, she relaxes in its arms as it keeps running steadily. It's calming, soothing, and for the first time in years, Sidney's not being chased by something that wants to kill her... though she knows that will change the moment the bot works properly again.

  She lays her head back slightly, leaning into its warm metal body.

  Because she—it—is warm, the more it runs, the warmer it gets. It won't overheat, she knows that much, but it's still nice and warm. She stops fighting the urge to sleep.

  She leans her head into its shoulder and closes her eyes. Oh well, is the last thought in her head as she falls into slumber. If she dies, she won't know coz she'll be asleep. That would be A-okay.

  Chapter Nine

  Bot #50602 slows to a steady walk, still holding the still form in its arms. It knows to bring it to shelter, and has to within the next three minutes, else the rains will come and eat at its skin—the bot’s too, but its skin is far more fragile. The night rains wreck everything.

  So the bot doesn't stop walking until it reaches yet another dilapidated building, one smaller than the one this human child hid in.

  The night is a consistent black now, not a hint of a light from anywhere. Somewhere on Earth, if there was still an Earth, moonlight would have illuminated things somewhat. Here in the Blue Dome on Allenda, there's nothing. The moons are too far away and whatever energy the light sources used is long gone. Just the bot’s ability to move in the dark. It walks into the small building and finds a small enough corner section where it rests the form on the ground. Humans need beds, it reminds itself.

  "Protect this human," it instructs the big cat, then turns to look around in the vicinity. Chances are good it won't find a single thing that's suitable, but old training, training from days far before it was programmed to kill the sick kicks in. The bot is compelled to keep this human comfortable, warm. She needs to rest.

  For tomorrow the robot will bring her out of this dome through the mass red desert, and on to the next dome where her blood can be extracted and examined. Where it can determine whether she is ill.

  The bot walks down a short set of stairs and finds itself in another empty black room. There's nothing suitable here, it notes, making its way back up the stairs and into the dark hallway where it left the cat and the human.

  The human's snuggled up to the giant side of the cat and the bot wonders why—surely its rough hide could not offer comfort the same way a bed could. Still, it doesn't move it from the cat’s form. Instead it sits across from them and turns to watch as the skies open and the night rains come to cleanse the world for a few hours more.

  The bot doesn't sleep. It keeps its eyes open and waits until several hours later when the rains finally stop and dawn breaks. Without pause, it stands to walk into the open air and stands in the still street, charging under the sun. It won't take long with this new body. Half hour tops, then it can take the human and make its way to the edge of the dome.

  Chapter Ten

  Sidney

  She wakes, rubbing her eyes, then flinches when her back stiffens and throbs. It takes a split moment to remember where she is as she breathes in and smells—metal. She sits back, moving herself as far from the robotic cat as possible until her back is flush to the wall.

  Then everything comes back at once and she looks around, still keeping the cat in her peripheral vision as she looks for her—for it.

  She sees it right outside the doors, standing there in the bleak sunlight, recharging, she's guessing, but for how long?

  It can't have been dawn for long, she decides. The ground outside's still slightly damp from the rain last night. The rain that's happened every night since before she was born. "It's scheduled," Nayne had explained to Sid. "Which means it doesn't happen naturally. I don't know why they'd had it scheduled."

  It was only recently that the rains changed from a nice daily warmish shower—she loved standing out there naked, scrubbing at her skin as hard as she could—and turned into a skin-melting, metal-eating vicious thing. She hasn't showered in months.

  As the robot stands out there, still recharging, she knows this might be her only chance of escape, and she looks around for a weapon, anything suitable that will help her damage the thing enough for a few minutes so she can run.

  Keeping the cat in her peripheral vision, she stands and turns but the room they’re in—looks like it was once a coffee shop or meeting shop of sorts—stands empty except for a half a dozen chairs in one corner.

  The cat doesn’t budge as Sidney steps towards the chairs, picking each one up to feel the heft of them. Then she grabs one smallish silver one—could be aluminum or another lighter metal, but strong enough, she reckons. If this bot is anything like the older one, its legs can be taken out.

  She walks past the cat, out the front doors, and straight up to the bot as it recharges. She slams the chair into the bot’s legs as hard as her arms can, so hard the impact resonates up her arms and hurts her right elbow so much, she drops the chair as it clatters and echoes on the ground ahead, and she falls to the ground, holding on to her aching elbow.

  She huffs and looks up, but the impact did nothing to the bot. After another moment, she grabs the chair again, and bracing herself for the pain this time, rams it against the bot’s side, its face, its back. She’s not quite tall enough to hit it over the head, but tries—and fails—to put a dent in its face.

  She drops the chair again, both elbows aching now, and eyes the cat as she grabs for her knapsack. She doesn’t know why she didn’t grab the bag first—maybe a part of her knew this was all moot, but she had to try, anyway.

  A handful of silver dust rolls past her and she scoops it up, knowing it won’t be enough to do any real damage—still she takes out the tiny plastic container in her sack and pours it in. If she comes across more, it should be enough to make a little bang.

  She fights the urge to still run because she doesn’t have enough powder for explosives, and if she’s being honest, she’s tired of running. For now. It’s nice to not have to run for a change, even if it’s temporary. Maybe this bot could help her get to the promised land. It and this—cat-thing.

  So she sits still, finally giving in to the rumbles in her tummy, urging her that it's breakfast time, that it wants food. With her eyes still on the charging robot, she pulls her knapsack closer—the cat doesn't even blink—and she rummages around for another strip of dried cured meat. She chews on it, still with her eyes on the bot.

  She counts to three hundred and fifty two before it’s finally done and turns around to find Sidney staring back.

  "Are you ready, little human?" The voice is normal, almost like Nayne's, then Sidney fights the thought. Do not compare this killing machine to Nayne now. That won't end well.

  "Ready for what?" she says, still aware than any moment now, the thing’s scanner could start working, and that would be the end of tha
t.

  "To travel, to the southern dome. The Red Dome."

  The southern dome? Does it mean where the other robots used to be stationed?

  "Why the southern dome?" she asks.

  "That is where I can extract your blood, where I can study it."

  Nayne used to tell Sidney that these robots could do that on-site, without any other machines. This one should have a syringe in its body somewhere, surely?

  "Why don't you just extract my blood with your inner syringey thingy?"

  "This body does not have one."

  "Why not?"

  "This body was a replacement body. It was not built for the same purpose as the other ones."

  "Well, what was it built for then?" Sidney asks, taking in the look of the thing.

  The bot is dressed in a simple blue tank and black jeans, with black boots. Similar clothing to what Nayne used to wear. “Easy to travel in,” she’d said, “easy to run.”

  It’s a lithe female form, light and maybe five feet eleven. Its arms are long and slim, hardly any muscle, with small rounded shoulders, and topped with a graceful neck. Its hair shines under the sunlight, short to the nape—a dark brown, almost black, with tiny blond tips at the ends.

  And it’s pretty, Sidney decides as she studies its face—oval-shaped with a minuscule nose that’s slightly upturned. Cheeks as pink as a human’s, and a heart-shaped perfect mouth. Then Sidney really sees the bot’s eyes for the first time—they shimmer blue and gray in the sunlight. Smart, they tell her, and kind.

  "This form was built for companionship," the bot says. "Its memories are still clear. It was an entertainment robot, a companion robot, a loving robot."

  Huh.

  "And yet you were coming to kill me," Sidney reminds her.

  "This was a last minute one. As the ones built for that purpose were all destroyed, ones like this were brought out from archives to continue their work."

  "And you're certain this is the last one?" she asks. "Other than all the animal ones, of course?"

  "It is," the bot says, as she does some sort of internal scan. "It's been reprogrammed now to protect the others for the re-emergence and find the ill to eliminate them. As soon as the last of the ill is taken care of, cleaning will happen and the beginning of the re-emergence."

  It sounds like a load of crock, Sidney thinks. Still, Nayne told her all this too. The other people, ready for the re-emergence, are clean, healthy Allendians selected to be preserved, selected to recreate a new world for Allenda. Here? Where? She doesn't know. Nayne didn't know.

  "What's your name?" Sidney asks. The bot tells her a list of numbers that don't sound like anything, so Sidney asks what her what her task is, what her new programming is.

  The bot says, "To protect the healthy for re-emergence, to eliminate the old broken history, to terminate the ill, to resurrect the frozen, to assure re-emergence at any cost."

  Hmm. Sidney runs through the words in her mind, trying to think of something that makes sense. Protect. Eliminate. Terminate. Resurrect. Assure. Finally, she says, "Your name is Petra."

  Chapter Eleven

  Petra

  "Petra," she says and the robot's head tilts to the right as the new moniker registers.

  "It is new," she claims. "I have never been named 'Petra' before."

  "Well, what sorts of names have you had?"

  "I was Serena once, a Jeremmin, Natiolir, Rabanna, Luciana..."

  "Okay," the child says, "I get it. You've had lots of names. I only have one—Sidney. Nice to meet you." She puts her right hand out, waiting for Petra to do the same.

  The robot only hesitates for a moment, remembering that this was once a normal thing. She reaches out to take the child's hand in hers and attempts a small smile. This is what makes them comfortable, she remembers.

  Another training from another time reminds her that this one will need sustenance. So she pulls her hand away gently and looks out to the discarded city, pulling up details on the vault of food that has been kept. It is underground and is a ways away.

  "What are you doing?" Sidney says, as she stands by Petra’s side to look out to the empty streets.

  "I am calculating how far we need to go to find you sustenance. We need approximately eighteen hundred calories a day to keep your energy levels up for the walk to the southern dome, at least thirty four grams of protein.”

  Sidney smiles up at her. "Well that's cool. What sort of food are we talking here?"

  "There is a vault of grains, beans, selection of canned goods that will last enough time for when the re-emergence happens. It was selected for its lasting shelf life and—”

  "Well, can we go now?" Sidney asks. "I'm starving."

  "If you require sustenance sooner than several days, we need to consider something else."

  "Oh," Sidney says, as she steps out of the building. "Lemme go grab a quick brekky and we'll go find this food." She runs out the door before Petra acknowledges and follows her.

  The girl is halfway up a light pole, her bag on the ground beneath. Petra stands under the pole, unmoving as she watches the child climb all the way to the top then back down again, all this within three minutes.

  When Sidney's back on the ground, she shows Petra a tiny pouch made of linen she's hung across her chest. Within it are three tiny speckled blue and brown eggs. "Brekky," she claims with a big wide grin on her face. “I haven’t had eggs since my nayne—but we’re in a rush, so let’s do this!”

  "Do you require it cooked?" Petra asks as she prepares to pop out a small lighter from within her left leg, a remnant from her hosting days.

  "Nope," Sidney says. She grabs one egg and pops it lightly on the pole. She pulls tiny shells out of her way and places the egg straight on her mouth. "Taste better this way," she says, as she drinks from it. Petra catches her flinch as she tastes the egg, but doesn’t challenge her on it. "And easy to carry. Let's go."

  She turns and walks north before Petra grabs her by the shoulders and points in the opposite direction. "This way, child," she says, considering the girl's weight.

  She's lithe, just over four feet tall, and looks about thirty kilos if that. "Perhaps I should carry you," Petra suggests, remembering that people prefer to be asked, prefer options.

  Sidney eyes her up and down, considering her words. Then says, "I like the walk. Let's go." And she strides ahead, the second egg already on her lips.

  Petra looks over to the big cat. "Stay," she says, and turns to walk beside the child.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sidney

  The eggs are gone and she's still hungry, but she can't wait to get to this place Petra has talked about.

  To think that there's a vault somewhere filled with food, and she's been barely surviving on flying rats and their eggs this entire time. Well not any more, her head recites as her stomach growls.

  She ignores it though. Staying hungry will be worth it... maybe there will be real meat in this vault. Lamb. Oh maybe fruits that aren’t just berries. What she would do right now for anything that doesn't taste like nasty tough pigeons, and all their gizzards...

  She looks over at Petra, walking by her side like a tall shadow. She wonders about all Petra’s old names, her life as a companion.

  Why would a companion bot be turned into an assassin? And how fast will she turn to kill Sidney once she's somehow fixed? Okay she just has to make sure they get nowhere near that dome she's mentioned. After finding this vault of food, Sidney has to find a way to get away from her or to stop her from working somehow. Who knows how massive this vault will be, considering it's saved for all the people in the 're-emergence'...

  "How many are there?" Sidney asks. "How many were saved for this 're-emergence'?"

  "My data says just under ten thousand."

  "And—where are they all?" She's been around most parts of this dome. This is her dome, born and raised, so she knows none of them can be here. She would have found some sign of them by now.

  "They're off
-site," Petra says.

  "Where?" she insists. "Like another dome? How many domes are there?"

  "Three domes. They are not in another, they are off-site."

  What does that mean?

  "What makes them so special, anyway?" she asks, remembering Nayne. Remembering the way she was those last few days. She was sick, she wanted to leave, so that Sidney didn't have to see what happened to her, but Sidney followed her anyway. She’d stayed up as much as she could just to stay by Nayne’s side. She wasn't leaving her alone, no matter how much her nayne had insisted.

  Now her nayne's gone, and these—these people will come back at some point, take over this place and the other domes. For what?

  "Who are they that they're allowed to live here and the rest of us weren't?"

  "They're not sick," is Petra's simple answer.

  Sidney knows that, but big deal. It's not like those who were sick were bad people. It's not even a bad sickness. It's just a small flu. That's what Nayne told her. It doesn't kill anyone, it doesn't do anything but leave them with a slight fever. "It's a flu that just needs a small pill," she mutters.

  "What did you say?" Petra asks as she stops walking. "What do you know of the flu?"

  "I only know what my nayne taught me," she replies. "Nothing more. She didn't understand why people who were ill deserved to be hunted down and killed when a mere pill could cure them."

  "No pill can cure this flu," Petra says matter-of-factly. "This is why I’m charged with cleaning up the flu-ridden. The people who re-emerge can only emerge to a clean Allenda."

  Sure, Sidney thinks, but why are they more important? She doesn't ask though. She knows better than to argue. Nayne always taught her to be more polite than that.