Socket 1-3 - The Socket Greeny Saga

by Bertauski, Tony

  [It’ll be all right.]

  That’s what she was thinking. Instead of telling me where I was and why, she just wanted me to know it was all going to be all right. The last time she said that, she took me to the doctor for shots. While I waited, the nurse told me we were waiting on a little stick, then rammed a needle in my ass. I would’ve preferred a better explanation, then and now, but her touch and smile seemed to be enough for the moment. What else was I going to do? I didn’t know how to fly that car and even if I did, where the hell was I going?

  Mom was off to the only door in the cavern. The door slid open and closed behind her, leaving me with the muscular android.

  “Do you have any questions?” Spindle asked.

  His posture was friendly, his face bubbly yellow and orange. He was completely unaware I had just been squeezed through time and space for the first time like a birthing canal. But he waited patiently, the eyelight glowing, like a video game character waiting for my response.

  “Okay. Ummm… where I am?”

  “You are in the Garrison. It is one of many global training grounds of the Paladin Nation.”

  “Right. The Paladin Nation.” I glanced around the cave. “Why haven’t I heard about this place until about three minutes ago?”

  “There are many things you have not heard of.” He gestured to the servys still bobbing around us. “Nano-plastine technology, for instance. These servys are composed of cellular-sized nanomechs that make up a generic round body, much like the cells of your body. A processor is located at the core and can shift the cellular nanomechs into whatever form is necessary. Very useful. Humanity has not been granted access to this technology yet.”

  “What, you don’t like to share?”

  “Many discoveries are still considered too dangerous. When the circumstances are right, they will be released.”

  “These Paladins,” I said, “they’re human?”

  “That is correct.”

  “What gives them the right to horde all this stuff?”

  “The Paladin Nation is a much more evolved race of humans. The general public cannot be trusted with such power. It would be like giving a gun to a two–year-old child. In the hands of a responsible adult, a gun can be used safely. However, a two-year-old child would likely harm himself.” He pushed his shoulders back and tilted his head. “Does that make sense?”

  “But adults still shoot each other, so I’m not sure the gun analogy works.”

  “That is why it is a perfect analogy. Even guns are used irresponsibly. Can you imagine what the same people would do with some of these magnificent advancements?”

  Spindle waited for my response. His facial colors were muted yellow, fading back to silver. He turned to the servys. His face jumped with dark blues but he said nothing out loud. The servys drifted back to the walls and merged through them as if the openings were all there, just masked with the illusion of rocky walls.

  “If you have no more questions, we can proceed to security assignment. We can begin our journey with a friendly gesture.” He held up his hand, fingers spread. “Stick it, Master Socket.”

  I looked at his expectant hand. “Do what?”

  “Stick it.” He shook his hand. “It is a friendly handshake that kids do. You stick it.”

  I held up my hand like his, expecting something like a high-five.

  “No, no, you stick your fist in the palm of my hand.”

  I did like he said, only in slow motion. Where’s this going? He wrapped his soft, fleshy fingers around my fist and shook. “Do you see?” he said. “You stuck it.”

  “What, you mean like Paladin kids are doing this?”

  “No, kids in society. Kids like you do this, yes. I hope I did it right. It is a friendly gesture. Did I do it too soon? Should we be better acquainted before such customs?”

  “I’ll be honest, I never heard of it.”

  “You have not?” His head looked yellow again, splattered with specks of black. “My data says this is very popular.”

  “Where’d you get the data?”

  “The data originated from a teenage website named Pops. It is rated the number one virtualmode website for teenagers in your age bracket.”

  “There’s your problem. Pops is for little teeny girls and boys wanting to meet their favorite boy bands and movie stars. About as stupid as it gets.”

  “Is that true?” The colors changed. “I will have to rewrite my database.”

  “Good idea. And don’t ever do that gay handshake again.”

  “Please do not curse, Master Socket. It is unbecoming of you.”

  “I didn’t curse.”

  “I believe you did when you used the term ‘gay’ as a derogatory reference.”

  Now the colors on his faceplate were dark. I was being scolded by a robot. And he wasn’t moving until I complied, I think. “Yeah, okay. No problem. Consider the word erased.”

  “Very good.” The faceplate brightened. He stepped aside and gestured to the door. “Let us proceed to security assignment.”

  We went through the same door as Mom. It was an elevator.

  “This is a leaper,” Spindle said. “It will take us to any part of the Garrison in a matter of seconds. It can move as fast as two hundred miles per hour.”

  “Two hundred? We’ll be pancakes.”

  “Not to worry. Anti-gravity floaters offset the velocity. You will not feel motion.” Spindle stepped inside. “This is the main mode of transportation within the Garrison. Centuries ago, when the Paladin Nation was in its infancy, these were just tunnels. Technology has advanced.”

  “Yeah. No shhhi…no kidding. I take it this thing wouldn’t go anywhere without clearance.”

  “You would not be here if you did not have clearance.” It seemed like he was refraining from laughing at something so stupid because, clearly, you’re not getting here without a wormhole and a flying car. “Spindle, access code 0452B. Security assignment room, level 1. Prepare for new arrival.”

  There was a sharp pang in my stomach, and then it was gone. The door opened to a short, doorless hallway. So far I’d been in a cave and now a white hallway. For all the technology, Paladins weren’t flashy.

  Spindle started down the corridor and stopped halfway. “Here we are.”

  “Where?”

  “Doors are composed of plasmic particulates creating the illusion of a solid surface.” He pushed his hand through the white wall in front of us. “Much like the cliff you drove through.”

  I knocked on a solid wall. “It’s not working.”

  “That is because you are touching the wall.” His face lit with sunny yellows, shaped a little like a smile. Dumbass.

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Laughing? I do not experience emotions, Master Socket. However, it does appear odd you are trying to push through a wall when the doorway is right next to you.”

  “Yeah, well I don’t see a doorway.”

  “Not yet.” He walked through the wall, poked his head out several seconds later. “Are you coming?”

  “I’m not used to walking through walls.”

  “Here.” He extended his hand. “I am programmed to assist you.”

  An odd color lit his face. He lightly pulled me through—like a sheet of frigid air—into a large room. It was empty and sterile. How exciting. Let me guess, dinner is white rice with water.

  “This is the security assignment room. I will assign you level one access. If you will have a seat, I will start the process very soon.”

  “You mean, on the floor?”

  Spindle crossed the room in five steps. As he did, it reshaped. A chair emerged from the wall. End tables popped out of the floor. The white walls turned dark green with burnt orange trim. Pictures formed on the walls with views of oceans and deserts. A window appeared with the view of scenic mountains, a flock of birds passing by.

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” I sat on the chair, felt it reform to fit my body, left me weigh
tless. “This room… it’s made from the same stuff as those servys?”

  “Yes.” He was busy with a control panel on the wall. “Our rooms can suit any purpose. I hope you are comfortable. We will begin in a minute.”

  A vase emerged from a table with flowers. I took a white daisy and sniffed. It smelled like a flower. The room was a regular room in any house across the world, and yet it wasn’t. It was buried in a mountain made up of tiny cell-sized robots that made a flower smell like a flower and a window overlook a mountain. I could dig this.

  “Can I ask you something?” I said.

  “You may ask me a question at anytime, Master Socket.”

  “What’s my mom do?”

  “She is the Commander’s assistant.”

  “Commander? You mean this is like a military?”

  “It is not a military, but it has order. There is protocol. Any society must have rules and it must have leaders. Commander has been traditionally used.”

  “So my mom, she’s a Paladin?”

  The eyelight circled to the back of his head and focused on me while his hands continued to work. “No, Master Socket. Paladins have inherent abilities which she does not possess. She has developed some mild extrasensory powers but she is a civilian, and she is vital to the Paladin Nation. Has she not told you these things?”

  “We don’t talk a whole lot.”

  “But she is your mother.” He stopped working. “Your caregiver.”

  “She’s been a little busy. Since Dad died.”

  His face sparkled. “I knew your father.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes.” His eyelight drifted upward, thinking. “Your father was a remarkable man. He was head of mech design and maintenance. Your father was involved in my prototype design and personally worked on my bodyshell.”

  “He was a Paladin?”

  “He expressed Paladin traits, much more than your mother, but never fully realized them. He worked in the Garrison and was not often involved in missions. The Paladin Nation has been watching to see if you would inherit his traits. I believe you caught them by surprise.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “All the details will be revealed to you soon.”

  My dad died in for a secret agency and no one ever told me. That’s super. No doubt she knew I was next line to follow in his footsteps. What else did Mom have in the family vault?

  I buried my face in my hands and took a deep breath. I want off the crazy train.

  “Was he a good father to you?” Spindle asked.

  To me? He was asking like my father was a good father to him. Did he think we were brothers? I shook my head, my voice echoing through my hands. “I guess. I don’t remember much.”

  “I remember your father quite well, from the very first day he ignited my awareness panel.” His eyelight drifted up, again. He was lost in thought for several seconds while colors flashed on his face. “We spent every day together in the beginning, perhaps the entire first year of my existence. He worked on my programming to perfect my learning impulse. After that, I saw him once a week. That is unusual, you realize, for a creator to remain after programming is complete. Your father did that.”

  He had that drifting look again. “You miss him?” I said.

  “Miss him? I am not sure what you mean.”

  It feels like there’s something missing, that’s what. It’s longing. Sadness. It’s all of the above. “It feels… empty.”

  “Empty?” He contemplated that, feeling his belly with his hand. His face brightened in a got it moment. “There is something missing. A… hole in my awareness. Not a hole, but an…” His eyelight focused on me. “Emptiness. Yes, I do sense that. I do miss him, Master Socket. Thank you for teaching me.”

  The colors on his face ran through the full spectrum, brighter and brighter. I didn’t consider emptiness as something he needed to thank me for. For me, it ached. But for Spindle, it was obviously something joyous to experience. Whatever.

  He turned back to the control panel. Then said, “If you hold still, a body print is being scanned and a security access level assigned.”

  Tiny shockwaves started at my feet and ended at the top of my head. The control panel folded back into the wall. The pictures, vase and flowers dissolved. I stood and the chair disappeared. The room was empty, once again.

  “You have been assigned level one access.” Spindle walked through a dim arching outline on the wall. I could see the doorway now. No more walking into walls for me. I followed him into the hall.

  “You should be able to see doorways to rooms you have clearance to enter,” Spindle said. “Do you see them?”

  There was a similar outline that simulated a doorway at each end of the hall. I nodded. “Got it.”

  “Good,” he said. “Agent Pike is waiting.”

  “Agent Pike? Who’s that?”

  “He will be conducting your preliminary evaluation.”

  “Whoa, wait a second. I thought we were going to Mom’s office. I don’t know anyone named Pike.”

  “All potential cadets are evaluated for potential traits upon arrival. It is the first assignment after security clearance.”

  “I’m a cadet? Wait, when did that happen? I didn’t sign up for anything.”

  Spindle remained absolutely still, assessing the conversation. “Why do you think you are here, Master Socket?”

  “I don’t have a clue.”

  Long pause, again. “You were assigned to the Garrison because you exhibited exceptional abilities that need to be assessed.”

  “When the hell did I do that?”

  His face darkened, but he let the hell word slide. “It will all be explained to you after the preliminary evaluation. However, it is imperative that we remain on schedule. You need to report to Agent Pike immediately.”

  I grabbed him as he turned. “Wait, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going to happen at this… evaluation.”

  “Agent Pike is a minder; he has extraordinary psychic ability. He will assess your potential.”

  “So I am a Paladin?”

  Pause. “That is up to Agent Pike to decide.” He stepped quickly before I could grab again. I was trapped in a short hallway inside a mountain about to meet a man named Pike. It’s just a little stick, Socket.

  We walked into a leaper at the other end of the hall. “We will be traveling at 189 mph in a northwest direction exactly 33 degrees above ground level, covering 5,133 feet. Are you ready?”

  Hell, no. A falling sensation twisted my gut.

  “We have arrived.”

  It was another short hallway, a gray archway at the far end. Spindle walked with his shoulders square, his head held high. My knees were unreliable, but I forced myself to follow. I wanted to hold his arm, but I wasn’t going to look like a pussy. Even if I felt like one.

  “You will have to enter alone,” Spindle said. “I will wait here.”

  I brushed my fingertips across the chilly gray archway. “So you’re saying he’s just going to ask questions, nothing else?”

  “Yes,” Spindle said. “And assess you.”

  Assess me. Goddamn, I don’t like the way that sounds. “Where’s Mom?”

  “She is sorry.” His fluid voice faltered, just a bit. “She is very aware of you.”

  Was that supposed to calm me down? Don’t tell me the truth or I’ll freak out. I was turning numb and couldn’t stop nodding.

  “Agent Pike.” Spindle patted my shoulder. “He is waiting.”

  The weakness in my knees was now in my chest. If I waited any longer, I was going to fill my shorts. As I saw it, there was no choice. Nowhere to run. The nurse never says the shot’s going to hurt. She’ll say it’s just pressure, that’s all you’ll feel. I put my foot through the archway, felt Spindle’s hand slip off my shoulder, and plunged to the other side. But we all know that shot’s going to hurt like shit.

  D I S C O V E R Y

  Piked

  Pressure. />
  It was around me as soon as I entered, wrapped around my body, dimpled my skin like a golf ball. A frail man sat on a chair, his hands on his thighs. Stubble shaded his scalp. His narrow sunglasses partially wrapped around his head, the lenses convex and black.

  “Have a seat.” His voice was clipped, cold and dry.

  A similar chair emerged from the floor in front of him. I pulled it away. We didn’t need to sit that close. Tiny cracks appeared around his mouth. More pressure.

  [Agent Pike has mental pressure at level one. The subject is feeling discomfort, but seems to be controlling his nerve response unconsciously.]

  The thought was in my head. I looked around the room, white and empty, and there was no one here except me and this gecko-looking nutjob.

  Agent Pike twitched. Nothing noticeable. His eyebrows lifted a few microns. How did I notice that? Gecko. There, it happened again. He heard me. Is that right, Mr. Gecko?

  “I am Agent Pike,” he said, no warmer than his greeting.

  A servy emerged from the wall. Three arms grew from the middle of its body. I pulled my arm away. It stopped, turned its eyelight to Agent Pike.

  “The servy simply needs to monitor your vital signs and take a few samples. It will be painless.”

  The eyelight returned to me. I could’ve fought the thing, but they were going to get samples one way or another. I had the feeling I was going to need all my strength by the time this “evaluation” ended. One of its arms wrapped around my elbow, turning it numb. The other two arms touched various parts of my back, neck, and chest.

  “You performed an unauthorized timeslice today at 11:25 a.m.,” Agent Pike said.

  “Yeah, I didn’t do anything.”

  “Timeslicing is a stoppage of relative time. Since this incident, you have heard random thoughts. Has this not happened to you?”

  I don’t like this guy.

  “We know this to be true, but your cooperation will make this transaction easier.”

  He didn’t need me to answer. He wanted me to answer. So I nodded. Fine. There’s your transaction, weasel.

  The servy pulled its rubbery arms off, merged back into the wall. Three spots of blood beaded on my arm. Blood, skin, tissue, muscle. You forgot a chunk of brain.