Future Chronicles Special Edition

by Samuel Peralta

  Bishop gave a short nod.

  She tried to get her brain around the concept. They would be ruled by robots. Would that necessarily be a bad thing? The world had been more peaceful under their stewardship than it ever had before. But more and more decisions would be taken out of the hands of humans.

  “The safety and advancement of mankind is still our primary objective, Detective Harper.”

  “That’s comforting to know.” Actually, she wasn’t comforted at all. Did she want to live in a world where she had no say in anything that mattered?

  “There have to be… people willing to make difficult decisions for the good of all,” Bishop continued.

  “Even if it’s murder?”

  “The death of one man. A necessary sacrifice. When all the factors were computed, it was the most ethical option. Sometimes what seems like a morally bad choice is the only choice.” He sat back and studied her. “So—what will be the result of your investigation?”

  This was it. Decision time. But really, there had never been a decision to make.

  Not even to obtain her dream.

  “I won’t report Reinhold’s murder as a suicide.”

  “Why?” Bishop sounded genuinely curious.

  “Because I’m better than you.”

  “Perhaps you are.”

  She frowned. “Here’s what I don’t understand. Why even bring me in on the case?”

  “You shouldn’t have been,” Bishop said. “But it happened too quickly. The reporter wasn’t supposed to be there, and Reinhold shouldn’t have been found until the following day. But to take you off the case at that point would have raised alarms.”

  “Why didn’t your… colleague just take out the reporter?”

  “He couldn’t. She’d done nothing wrong. He was incapable of making that decision. We cannot take an innocent life.”

  “But who decides who’s innocent?”

  “We compute the data and reach a logical conclusion based on the facts.”

  “Murder is never a logical conclusion.”

  “We have to be able to do what’s right. The Council was holding us back.”

  “I can’t believe you tried to bribe me.”

  Amusement flashed in his eyes. “Were you even tempted?”

  She shrugged. “I wouldn’t be human if I wasn’t tempted.”

  “Actually, I told them it would never work. You’re a perfectionist—you see things as black or white, good or bad. Of all the humans I’ve encountered, you’re the closest to us.”

  “Aw, sweet. Is that a compliment?”

  “No, just a statement of fact.”

  “So you came along to keep me out of trouble. And why are you telling me all this—being so open?”

  “Because it doesn’t matter.”

  Crap.

  Ice prickled over her skin. They were going to kill her. What else could they do? Bishop obviously knew her too well to think that she would compromise on this. She was a homicide detective, and she brought murderers to justice. Whether man or machine.

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, she glanced around. “So what happens now?” She had a feeling it wasn’t going to be anything good.

  “Your assistant will continue the investigation, and the result will be suicide.”

  “No way.”

  “We offered her your job.”

  “Fuck.” Where did that leave her? She measured the distance to the door. Would they use force to stop her?

  Bishop shoved his hands in his pockets and sat back. “We’re not evil.”

  “But you’ll kill me for the greater good. That’s a load of bollocks.”

  “We have no plans to kill you. Though that would be the obvious answer.”

  “Right. You’ve computed the data and I’m innocent.” Did she believe him? Could robots lie? If they couldn’t do so now, she had no doubt they would soon learn. After all, if they could murder, on what basis would they feel ethically bound to tell the truth?

  Yet somehow, she didn’t think Bishop would lie to her about this. “Why aren’t you going to kill me?”

  “Because we don’t need to.”

  Ha. That was where he was wrong. “I won’t keep quiet.”

  “I know.”

  The door opened and a man stepped inside. Or not a man. He wore the white jumpsuit of the medical division, and a little flutter of panic stirred in Vicky’s stomach. She turned her head slightly as he came to stand at her shoulder. “What are you going to do?” she asked Bishop.

  “We’re going to make your dreams come true, Detective Harper. We’re giving you what you want.”

  Vicky frowned. “What’s that?”

  “A trip into space.” He grinned. “Congratulations, you’ve won the lottery. It appears that Detective Harper, senior homicide investigator for the Bureau, has resigned, during the biggest case of her career, to take up her place on The Pioneer.”

  For a second, she couldn’t take in his words. “Why?”

  “Because while we are not evil, you are a problem. On the ship, you’ll be in cryo for the next”—he gave a shrug—“who knows how many years. Hundreds? Thousands? By the time you’re awoken, nothing you know now will matter. The Council will be long gone, and we’ll be reprogrammed or rusting on some rubbish heap. Or we’ll have failed, and mankind will have found some way to utterly destroy themselves and this planet. But you’ll be far away.”

  Vicky sat mesmerized by his words. She hardly noticed the medic step closer, but she did feel the sting of the needle as it entered the soft spot where her shoulder met her throat. Immediately her vision blurred. She shook her head. She wanted to say something, but her mouth wouldn’t work.

  Bishop smiled. “Sleep well and long, Detective Harper, and wake up to a new world.” He smiled. “Will you dream, I wonder? If so, perhaps you’ll dream of me.”

  Perhaps.

  Then the light shrank to a pinprick and was gone.

  A Word from Nina Croft

  We’re told that all stories should have a beginning, a middle, and an end. I’ve always considered this a little too neat and I like to think of stories as just being snippets in time, fragments of a much bigger story. Yes, they need to be complete, but they should also give the feeling that there’s an abundance of fascinating events going on before, and after, and all around them.

  For me, one of the pleasures of writing a series is that it allows me to visit those other times. It’s hard to let go of the characters and worlds we create and a series is the perfect excuse to revisit them over and over again.

  For a while, I’ve been working on a series that takes place around a space ship, The Pioneer, sent from earth in the not-to-distant future. The ship is crewed by androids, to avoid them dying of old age during the extended journey, but there are also one hundred human passengers, all sleeping during the long trip. They are awoken when the ship reaches a habitable planet and the series follows their adventures and interactions with the new world, the android crew, and their fellow passengers.

  I got to thinking about what sort of people would sign up for a place on The Pioneer; a trip into the unknown which might never have a happy ending. So when I saw the Robot Chronicles, it seemed the perfect excuse to explore just why Vicky Harper, ex-senior homicide detective, wakes up after a long sleep to find herself on a faraway planet.

  Nina Croft was born in the north of England but headed south at the age of eighteen. She studied marine biology at London University before training to be a chartered accountant.

  Having worked a number of years in London, the urge to head south hit again. This time it took her to Zambia, on the shores of the beautiful Lake Kariba, where she spent four years working as a volunteer. It left her with a love of the sun and a dislike of regular employment. Since then, Nina has a spent a number of years mixing travel, whenever possible, with work, whenever necessary.

  After traveling extensively in India, Southeast Asia, and Africa, Nina has now settled down to a life of wr
iting and almond-picking on a remote farm in southern Spain, between the Sierra Nevada Mountains and the Mediterranean Sea. She shares the farm with her husband, three dogs, a horse, two goats, four cats, and a handful of chickens.

  You can find out more about Nina and her books at: www.ninacroft.com

  Piece of Cake

  by Patrice Fitzgerald

  SANDRA ENTERED THE CROWDED CAFETERIA with Lily, holding her stomach in as tightly as she could. She was sure all eyes were on her. No doubt the whole crowd was noticing her belly.

  Her face grew warm. It was hard to breathe.

  She kept her head up and looked straight ahead as she walked over to the food line. Floating past them on the walls were the proclamations for the day.

  Today is Tuesday, Day 17, Month Three.

  The workers of Amalgamated make the best products and receive the highest compensation.

  A healthy eater is a happy eater. Food is just tasty enough.

  Citizens of Federal United are proud and fortunate.

  Sandra could smell the “good food” aroma they always pumped into the cafeteria. It might work better if the food actually smelled that way. Today the music was jangly and loud.

  From behind Sandra, Lily spoke up. "I hope they have something decent to eat, for once. I’m sick of the same stuff day after day.” She frowned at the foods laid out in front of them. “They get more picky all the time."

  "Look, Lily, here’s something new. It looks pretty interesting.”

  “What is it?”

  “Some kind of fish… I think."

  Lily peered at the food on the plates in front of them.

  "That looks like fish to you? I have no idea what that is. Yuck."

  "Well whatever it is, it’s something different,” Sandra said.

  Lily turned her head and nodded slightly. “Do you see Jerome at the table over there, with Tara?” Lily asked. “I can’t believe how little hair he has. I haven’t seen him since Month Eight last year.”

  “Wow, you’re right. He’s going completely bald.”

  “They’re going to be sending him in for follicle replacement soon.”

  “Yeah, no kidding,” Sandra said. “Are those two an item? I didn’t realize they were going out.”

  “An item? They’re married.”

  “When did that happen?”

  “Like… about a year ago? As soon as it was determined they matched well genetically. I saw it on the newsline.” Lily picked up a chicken sandwich and then put it down.

  “Wow. I must’ve missed that.”

  “Didn’t you have your eye on him for a while?” Lily asked.

  “Jerome? Well, maybe when I first saw him. Turns out he’s kind of a dweeb, and she’s nasty.” Sandra continued down the line, following Lily. She looked at the wilted salad and decided it was the best she could do. “Actually, the two of them are perfect for each other.”

  “They probably wouldn’t have let you two date anyway. DNA-wise, you know?” Lily looked thoughtful. “He’s a little pudgy. Probably has to struggle to stay in his assigned range. So they wouldn’t want two people who….” Lily stopped.

  Sandra looked at her friend. “Are you saying I’m—?”

  “No!” Lily said. “I didn’t mean that. You’re fine.”

  Sandra gave a tight smile.

  “Ooh, this looks good,” Lily said, “did you see this with cashews? They don’t give us nuts very often.”

  “Right,” Sandra said, “that’s because cashews have too many calories. You’re so lucky—you don’t have to worry about any of that stuff.”

  Lily laughed. “I guess I am lucky. My metabolism runs fine.”

  Sandra eyed the dessert section. There was an amazing-looking piece of cake—yellow with chocolate frosting. She picked it up.

  Bing! Bing! Bing! Bing!

  Sandra gasped and put the cake back down. She felt her face turning red.

  Looking around, she realized that people were staring.

  Lily laughed softly and then covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyebrows were raised as she leaned toward Sandra and said in a whisper. “So sorry, Sandra. How embarrassing! Are you over your COW today? Did you weigh yourself this morning?”

  “Of course I weighed myself,” Sandra said. “It’s not as though I had any choice.” She was trying to keep her voice under control. “I’m under daily review—I step out of bed in the morning and my numbers go straight to the Federal United A.I. Aren’t you?” She carefully avoided the eyes of others who were making their way down the food line.

  Lily turned to Sandra in surprise. “No. At least, I don’t think so.”

  “Citizen’s Optimal Weight, my ass. It’s not my optimal weight. I’m outside the three pound swing allowance. By half a pound.”

  “The truth is,” Lily said, her eyes downcast in faux humility, “I have to be careful to eat enough to stay at the lower end of my daily COW.”

  “Lily, don’t even tell me that,” Sandra said. “That is so obnoxious. I’ve never met anybody who is under the COW. That is a terrible thing to hear.”

  Lily laughed. “I’m sorry Sandra. I can’t help it. I’m just a skinny person. Listen. Maybe I can take that dessert, and you can eat it.”

  Sandra looked at her. “Wow. That’s so nice of you. Thanks, Lily.”

  Lily picked up the cake and put it on her tray. Sandra followed as they walked away from the food line and toward the eating area. Once again, she imagined that eyes were on the two of them, watching the way they moved across the room. They sat down across from each other at a small table.

  As they ate, Sandra kept gazing at the cake. At the point when the cafeteria had nearly cleared out, she looked around to see if anyone was watching. She saw no one.

  Sandra picked up her fork and reached across the table to take a piece of the cake. The chocolate frosting looked amazing. Her mouth was watering just imagining that first bite.

  Starting with the pointed end as she always did, she sank her fork into the cake. She could practically taste it melting in her mouth. For a moment she held her breath, the heavenly morsel poised in the air. Lily was looking at her with bright eyes and a smile encouraging her to go for it.

  Sandra lifted the fork to her lips and opened her mouth to take in the delicious bite.

  Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

  She dropped the fork with the cake on it. Every eye in the cafeteria turned to stare at her as she felt her cheeks heat up again.

  Sandra pushed away from the table. Lily stifled a smile. The two women hustled out of the cafeteria, leaving the cake behind. For just a moment Sandra hesitated, thinking about whether she could grab it and make a run for it. But too many people were looking.

  In the elevator Sandra grabbed Lily’s arm. “I have never been so humiliated in my life. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.”

  Lily mused. “Do you think someone turned you in? Or maybe they have scales in the chairs…”

  “I have no idea,” Sandra said, “but it’s disgusting.”

  * * *

  Sandra left the building with her coat wrapped tightly around her. It wasn’t cold, but she was self-conscious about her extra pudge. She wrestled with her conscience about which way to walk to catch the bus.

  Almost without conscious thought she watched as her feet sent her the long way around. A little voice in her head said, Well this will probably be the extra bit of walking that helps me lose that half a pound that I need to lose before I can get back into COW compliance.

  As she turned the corner, moving away from the avenue full of people, she was headed to a shoddier part of town. She knew where she was going. Four blocks down, a man stepped out of the shadows, looked her up and down, and then opened his trench coat. Lining the coat were rows of chocolate, cookies, and candy bars.

  Sandra stepped back in horror. No. She hadn’t gotten that low yet. She wanted dessert, but she wasn’t going to buy on the street. She shook her head and glared at the man.


  He just shrugged and closed his coat, receding into the shadows between the buildings.

  Spooked, Sandra kept walking. She knew where there was a shop for people like her. She’d heard others in the company talk about it. Some of them had actually been there.

  She thought about her account. Did she have enough money? Contraband sweets didn’t come cheap. She spotted the building up ahead on the left. It was unnoticeable, nothing out of the ordinary. But there was a sign by the door that looked like a nameplate. It said Mrs. Fields.

  She hurried to the door and looked quickly up and down the street. Seeing no one, she entered. Inside, everything looked like the lobby of a medical office. She walked up to the “receptionist’s” desk and said she was looking for Cookie.

  The receptionist nodded. “Go down that hall and to the right and you’ll find a door. Behind that door is where Cookie is working now.”

  The woman didn’t wink, but she might as well have. Clearly the receptionist was way over her COW. And she didn’t seem worried about it.

  Sandra could feel her heart thumping in her chest as she walked down the corridor and looked for the door on the right. She had never been here before, but she had heard a lot about it.

  She felt as though she’d seen this place in her dreams. There was a sense of both dread and excitement. As she approached the door she knew she was going to get even farther away from her prescribed COW, but she didn’t care.

  She touched the knob of the door, getting ready to enter the den of iniquity. Someone from inside turned it first and it swung wide, the room appearing before her.

  The view inside was astonishing. There were people of every size and shape, all intimately involved with hot fudge sundaes, pies, cookies, and cakes. Everyone looked happy. They were laughing out loud, sitting in big groups, stoned with enjoyment.