Sven Carter & the Android Army

by Rob Vlock

  * * *

  Halfway back to the RV, it dawned on me how much this plan sucked. Sure, it wasn’t fun having Vinny point a gun at me. And it was pretty gross collecting all that used oil, which I could still feel trapped under my fingernails. But now, as Ivy and I lugged a rusty, three-wheeled shopping cart uphill, I knew the true meaning of the word sucky.

  Sweat streamed out of every pore in my body, stinging my eyes and soaking my clothes. Flies, attracted by the rancid oil, swarmed around my face, scrabbling into my ears and nostrils, where, as far as I could tell, they were throwing little dance parties.

  808 seemed to be enjoying himself, though. Every time a fly got too close, he’d snap it out of the air and devour it. “The flies out here are delicious,” he remarked from behind my ear. “You should try one, Sven.”

  “No thanks,” I muttered, trying futilely to wipe the sweat out of my eyes.

  Something flitted by low overhead. Thor whimpered as its dark shadow slid over him. It circled us and let out a loud caw-caw-caw-caw, a cry that sounded more than a little like laughter. I shuddered as I finally figured out what it was. A watcher. A Tick designed for surveillance. I had seen crows just like the one wheeling above me now when I was back in Schenectady.

  They’d been tracking us since we left Sam’s place in Niagara Falls, I realized with dread. The Ticks had known exactly where we were and what we were doing the whole time!

  The bird flew off, gleefully caw-caw-cawing, until it disappeared from sight.

  Despite the blazing sun above me, my blood chilled in my veins.

  CHAPTER 31.0:

  < value= [A Rolling Deep Fryer] >

  “WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?” Alicia leaned against the side of the RV, gouging a trench in the gravel by the side of the road with the heel of her boot.

  I glared at her. “What?!”

  “Geez, take it easy, Sven,” she grinned. “I was just busting your chops. Grow a sense of humor, why don’t you?”

  Will emerged from the RV and patted me on the back. “Eeew!” he cried, recoiling at the wet slap that rang out when his hand made contact with my sweat-soaked shirt. “You’re sweaty.”

  “Well, as fun as lugging ninety-eight quarts of oil for three miles uphill in a broken shopping cart might sound, it was kind of, you know, hard work.”

  “About that,” 808 remarked, crawling out from behind my ear. “Didn’t your mom ever tell you to wash behind your ears? Sheesh, it’s not pretty back there!”

  Sam slid out from under the RV and wiped his grimy hands on his pants. “Well, we’ve finished the modifications to the engine. So once we fill up with the oil, we should be ready to go.”

  “What did you do to the RV?” Ivy asked.

  “It was pretty straightforward,” Dixon answered, sticking his head out from the passenger’s-side window. “We just had to take apart the thingy and run the other thing under the gas tank and along the stuff that goes into the thing in the engine.”

  Ivy and I stared at him. “What?” we said in unison.

  Sam laughed. “While that’s essentially right, maybe I can elucidate. As I mentioned, a diesel engine can run on cooking oil. The problem is, when it’s cold, the oil is so thick and viscous it tends to gum up the engine. It’s like . . . well, imagine trying to take a shower with rice pudding.” He paused and licked his lips hungrily before continuing. “But if we keep the oil warm, it’ll flow freely and won’t clog up the fuel line or pump. All we had to do was take apart the RV’s water heater, affix the electric heating elements to the outside of the gas tank and fuel line, and wire them up to the transformer. Voilà! The oil stays nice and warm, and we have a working engine.”

  I squinted at him. “But . . . but isn’t attaching an electric heating element to a gas tank . . . I don’t know . . . dangerous?”

  He laughed. “Oh, please. It’s perfectly safe.” A dark cloud passed over his features. “Unless, of course, the gas tank ruptures.”

  “And what if it does?” Ivy asked, her eyes wide behind the lenses of her glasses.

  “No time to waste, kids! Let’s fill up the tank,” Sam blurted.

  Once we had emptied the takeout containers into the gas tank, we climbed inside and took our seats.

  “All right, everyone, ready to give it a shot?” Sam called from the driver’s seat. “Dixon, my friend, hit the switch.”

  “Roger that, Sam.” Dix stood up and flipped a switch on the wall near the bathroom. “Okay, it’s on.”

  A low electrical hum met my ears.

  After waiting about thirty seconds, Sam turned the key in the ignition. “Here it goes.”

  Rrraaaaawww rrarrarrraaaaww rrrraaawwwaawwaa . . .

  The engine struggled to turn over. It sounded like a goat with a mouthful of peanut butter.

  Rrrrrraaawwww rwwwaaaawwwrrrr . . .

  RRRAOOOOOOAAAARRRRRR!!!

  It actually started! I shook my head in amazement. I felt twenty pounds lighter from sheer relief.

  We all cheered.

  Right up until the smell hit.

  “Ugh!” Will gagged. “What is that? It smells like . . . like bad Chinese food!”

  “Bad Chinese food that’s already been digested,” Alicia said in a nasal voice, pinching her nostrils closed. “Where the heck did you get that oil, Sven? An outhouse?”

  “Where did I get it? I walked miles to get it! And I nearly got shot in the process! Then I had to push every single drop of it back in a three-wheeled shopping cart! I can’t believe you’re complaining just because it smells a little!”

  “Dude, it doesn’t just smell a little. It smells like . . . like . . .” Will’s voice dissolved into a series of gags.

  “Sam, will this get better or are we going to have to deal with this the whole way to Seattle?” Alicia asked.

  Whatever Sam’s answer was, I didn’t hear it. Because at that moment, the voice came back. It crowded out all other sounds; all other thoughts.

  Listen to that. They hate you, Sven. The humans hate you for being a Synthetic. They hate you because you’re not one of them. You can’t trust them. You can only trust . . . your family. Your Synthetic brothers and sisters. You love them. And you hate the humans, Sven.

  The voice was closer now. I got the feeling that the farther west we traveled, the louder and more real it would become. It echoed in my skull like the screech of a sneaker in an empty gymnasium. It wrapped itself around my brain, a steel net tightening and tightening until it became my whole world. It came from nowhere and everywhere at once. It shuddered through me, filling every molecule of my body with its irresistible logic. Over and over it spoke.

  You hate them.

  With each word, every muscle in my body tensed a little more, until my entire frame felt like a coiled spring, a hundred cobras ready to strike.

  Stop the humans.

  Do it now.

  Stop them.

  Stop them.

  STOP THEM!

  HURT THEM!

  KILL THEM!

  My heart raced. My hands tightened into fists. My teeth clenched. My eyelids pressed closed. I wanted to do exactly what the voice said. I wanted to hurt them. I wanted to . . . kill my friends.

  CHAPTER 32.0:

  < value= [Definitely Not the Voice of Reason] >

  NO!

  I battled against the words that invaded my consciousness.

  “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” I screamed, leaping up and clamping my hands over my ears in a vain attempt to shut out the voice. “Get out of my head! Stop talking! Stop it! STOP!”

  The voice spoke again.

  Geez, dude! Relax. Fine, we’ll deal with the smell. Just don’t have a cow.

  Wait. That . . . that wasn’t the voice. It was . . . Will?

  I opened my eyes.

  Everyone was staring at me like I was a rabid gorilla that had escaped from the zoo.

  “Oh, uh . . . sorry,” I muttered as casually as I could, taking my hands away from my ears.


  Will squinted at me. “Are you okay, Sven? You’re acting kinda weird.”

  I rubbed my eyes with my palms. “I’m fine,” I said quickly, even though I seriously doubted that was true. “I guess I’m just . . . tired from getting the oil earlier. Sorry.”

  Alicia’s eyes bored into me. “No, you’re not. It’s the voice again, isn’t it?”

  “No, no,” I insisted. “Like I said, I’m just tired. I haven’t heard the voice in, like, forever.” I hated lying to her, but I couldn’t stand the idea of having some big discussion about the voice in my head. I already knew how different I was. How weird I was. I couldn’t stomach the thought of sitting around discussing yet another way I was a freak. I thought I had found friends who accepted me as I was. But would they once they learned about the angry thoughts and escalating demands that shrilled in my head?

  Or was it already too late? The way Alicia was looking at me . . . Was that a hint of distrust in her eyes? I shook my head, trying to dislodge the black thoughts that were taking root there.

  The voice had faded away. But it left an echo of unease in its wake. Maybe they were all plotting to kill me at the first opportunity.

  Will wouldn’t stop staring at me. Was that concern on his face? Or revulsion? Sure, we both had our . . . little quirks that set us apart from the “normal” kids at school. And we had been best friends forever. But who knew? Now I was probably too messed up even for him. He and Alicia were probably going to do something as soon as I turned my back, because they hated me. I know they hate me. I can’t trust them. I can only trust the Ticks because they’re the only family I . . .

  Wait! STOP! What was I thinking? This was exactly what the voice wanted. I needed to shake myself out of it!

  I grabbed two handfuls of my hair and yanked hard. Snap out of it, Sven! Don’t think this way! They’re your friends. They really, really are! And you’re their friend. Nothing the voice says can change that! Nothing!

  Everyone was still staring at me like I had two heads.

  “You can’t fool me, Sven,” Alicia said gently. “But if it’s the voice, it’s okay. I know you’re not going to hurt us.”

  “Hurt us?” Will asked, flicking the window latch open and closed. “What are you talking about, Alicia? What voice?”

  I met her eyes with a silent plea.

  She shook her head sadly. “I have to tell them, Sven.”

  “Tell us what?” Will demanded.

  “Sven . . . sometimes hears a voice. He thinks someone might be . . . trying to hack into his mind. So they can get him to stop us.”

  “What?” Will paled. “Sven, is that true?”

  I sighed. “Fine. I’ve been . . . hearing a voice. In my head.”

  Will laughed. “Oh, ppssshhhh. That’s it? What’s the big deal? I hear a voice in my head all the time. It’s an OCD thing. It tells me that if I don’t do certain things, something bad will happen. Like If you don’t check to see if there’s an earthworm in that lasagna, there will be an earthworm in that lasagna. It’s fine, Sven.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not like that. I’m actually hearing a real voice. And it’s . . . it’s getting louder.”

  “Hold on.” Dix raised his eyebrows. “You’re saying someone’s trying to hack into your brain? I haven’t been hearing any voices. And I’m a Tick, just like you.”

  “Me neither,” Ivy added. “Nobody’s trying to mess with my brain. If they did, I’d kick their butt!”

  Alicia looked at her. “You’re sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure,” Ivy huffed. “You think I wouldn’t know if I suddenly started hearing voices?”

  “So why would Sven be the only one hearing it?” Dix asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m the seventh and last Omicron they made. Maybe they gave me the special voices-in-your-head upgrade package?”

  Will laughed nervously.

  “Well, whatever the reason,” Alicia said, her face grim, “I bet it has something to do with the kid who took down the Internet and his twin. The sooner we find them, the sooner we can stop them. Sam, how long until we get there?”

  “We’ve just passed Spokane,” 808 called back from the dashboard. “We should get to Seattle in a little under four hours.”

  Alicia fished the remaining throwing stars out of her backpack and checked that the magnets glued to them were still secure. “We don’t know what we’re going to find when we get there. So let’s rest up. It’s been a long trip, and we need to be ready for a fight.”

  Everyone nodded.

  Then the only sound was the low thrum of the tires on the asphalt and the whistle of wind through the RV’s broken window.

  I leaned back and closed my eyes, but the torrent of worries whirling around in my head made it impossible to sleep. As I sat there fretting, something warm and wet slapped against the side of my face.

  It was Thor’s tongue. The dog studied me with his intelligent brown eyes and nuzzled under my arm with a reassuring grunt. The soft warmth of his fur was comforting. I rested my head against his side, and soon the manic thoughts subsided, replaced by the calming sound of Thor’s heartbeat. Still, I didn’t think there was much chance of getting to sleep.

  * * *

  “Wake up, kids!” Sam prompted. “Look! The Space Needle!”

  I blinked and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, then looked out the window. There, jutting up prominently in front of a gray skyline, stood the futuristic landmark.

  I swallowed down a mix of emotions. We were in Seattle! And that meant we were closing in on the butt that took down the Internet.

  I thought of the scorpipedes that flooded out of Bing’s mouth. Roz’s lethal tentacles. And yet, I knew what we might find in Seattle could be worse than either of those things.

  Another thought brought my spirits even lower. What if we can’t find them at all?

  We had a whole city to search. And the world was already falling apart without the Internet. I heard an angry shout from outside and looked through the window in time to see two men near an out-of-order ATM swinging at each other.

  “Don’t worry, Sven.” Alicia must have noticed my bleak expression. “We’ll find them.”

  Her optimism was oddly contagious, because I found the muscles at the corners of my mouth reversing my frown. Or maybe it was just relief that Alicia really did seem to believe in me, in spite of the murderous soundtrack that kept churning through my mind.

  “You know,” I began, “you might just be right about that.”

  And then, as if somehow the Fates sensed that this would be a perfect time to pull the rug right out from under me, the smell of burning motor home assaulted my nose.

  CHAPTER 33.0:

  < value= [I Give Sam a Knuckle Sandwich] >

  ACRID SMOKE, THICK AND SUFFOCATING as a wet wool blanket, filled the vehicle.

  “Get out!” someone yelled.

  I leapt up and groped my way toward the door. I might as well have been swimming in an acid sea at midnight. I was totally blind, my eyes tearing in response to the hot smoke scraping across the surface of my corneas.

  “Hey, boss,” 808 chirped in my ear. “Just a suggestion—maybe we should get out of here. You know, so we can keep living and whatnot.”

  My hand managed to close around the door handle. I twisted it and tumbled to the pavement. Once I could breathe again, I got to my feet and looked around. Sprawled on the sidewalk were Will, Dix, Sam, and Thor.

  But where are Ivy and Alicia?

  “Alicia!” I screamed. “Ivy!”

  For several long seconds, there was no response. My blood thundered in my ears.

  Then . . .

  Movement in the RV’s doorway.

  Alicia stumbled out of the motor home with Ivy slung over her shoulder. She slumped to the ground. “Is Ivy okay?” she choked out between coughs.

  I lifted Ivy and carried her clear of the burning vehicle.

  “Ivy!” I called. “Ivy! Can you hear me? Are y
ou all right?”

  Her head bobbed up and down. “I’m okay,” she croaked. Her blue eyes, bloodshot from the smoke, looked up at me. “Thanks for saving me, big bro.”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t save you.”

  “Then who . . .”

  “Her seat belt wouldn’t open,” Alicia said shakily. “I had to cut her free.”

  “You saved me, Alicia?” Ivy whispered. “But I thought you hated me.”

  Alicia shrugged. “ Hate is a strong word, but . . . well, you’re one of us, Ivy. And even if you’re one of the most annoying, pain-in-the-butt kids I’ve ever met in my entire life, we’re in this together.”

  Ivy wiped away a tear that snaked down her soot-stained cheek. “That’s the nicest thing anybody’s ever said to me.” After a few deep breaths, she added, “But if you expect me to stop being an annoying pain in the butt, you’re stupider than you look.” She squinted balefully at Alicia for effect, but couldn’t conceal the affectionate little gleam in her eyes.

  “Is everyone unhurt?” Sam interrupted.

  “Yeah,” Ivy replied, getting to her feet. “What happened?”

  Sam, his face flushed, looked at the sidewalk, and scratched the back of his neck. “Um . . . I guess . . . maybe the . . . gas tank, um . . . ruptured,” he mumbled.

  “Hey!” Ivy argued. “I thought you said that wasn’t going to happen!”

  Sam bit his lip and grimaced. “Sorry.”

  “So what do we do?” Dix asked.

  “We walk,” Alicia said resolutely. “Let’s go.”

  She strode off in the direction of the distant Space Needle without a glance back.

  * * *

  We walked almost five blocks before anyone broke the silence.

  “I’m concerned,” Sam muttered.

  I let out a flat laugh. “Really? Let me guess. It has something to do with the fact Ticks are trying to kill everyone on Earth and our only chance of stopping them depends on us finding one kid somewhere in a city with hundreds of thousands of people in it, right?”

  “Actually, no,” Sam responded. “I was thinking about my equipment. Now that it’s gone up in flames . . . What if we have to access your CPU again? Or Dixon’s or Thor’s or Ivy’s?”