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Skyfire

Page 6

by Michael Adams


  Like the other winners, JJ had done a lot of media since the DARE Awards ceremony. His parents were privacy freaks, but eventually they had let him give interviews on the strict condition that he protect their wishes by not talking about them or revealing where they lived. Not that reporters really wanted to know about his mum and dad anyway. What they wanted to hear was how he’d lost the use of his legs in a car accident when he was two, how at age seven he’d made himself a robo puppy and how he’d always been determined to make leg-mecha so he could leave his wheelchair behind.

  But what was waaay more exciting than the media attention was getting a phone call from the owner of RoboWorld. It was a dream come true when Chairman Lee Dae-sung said he wanted a robot version of JJ for his theme park’s new RoboFame Hall.

  ‘Chairman Lee is just finishing up a call,’ his secretary said. ‘Just a few more minutes, please.’

  ‘All good,’ JJ said.

  JJ used his InfiniFone’s mirror app to make sure he looked his best. Nothing stuck in his teeth. Hair still in place across his forehead. His white leather jacket, nano-fibre ColorShift shirt and skinny white jeans hadn’t somehow fallen apart since he last checked two minutes ago.

  Satisfied, JJ flicked to the Games Thinker website. There were only a few hours left on the countdown. Try though he had, he hadn’t been able to crack the code or make sense of ‘events for you as mind peace’.

  At the very least, JJ was determined to make sense of the letters he’d received. He brought up his symbol and stared hard at it.

  Maybe it was an acronym. Maybe the NE came first! He clicked his fingers—NEA! That could mean Near Earth Asteroids, which was close to Zander’s game NEO Avenger, which was all about defending against ‘near-Earth objects’. NEA also meant North-East Asia, which was where he lived. But both explanations felt forced.

  JJ sighed. The letters could mean almost anything. They could even be a person’s initials. What also puzzled him was why he was the only one that had been sent letters and not a symbol with numbers. Or maybe he had gotten numbers! A was the first letter of the alphabet so it meant one, while N was fourteenth and E was the fifth. But looking up various combinations of one, fourteen and five online yielded … nothing.

  ‘Chairman Lee will see you now,’ the secretary said. She led JJ on his softly whirring legs into a majestic office. One whole wall was a window with a view straight onto the peak of the TransMecha roller-coaster. Behind soundproof glass, visitors screamed by silently.

  A silver-haired man waited in front of a desk the size of a small battleship. His suit was immaculate and JJ worried that he should’ve dressed up more. But it was too late now.

  Chairman Lee bowed slightly. ‘Mr Park,’ he said formally, using JJ’s family name. ‘We are most honoured to have you as our guest.’

  JJ returned the bow, shook Chairman Lee’s hand and gratefully received the man’s business card.

  As South Korean culture dictated, he studied the card for a careful moment before placing it into his wallet and taking out his own card he’d printed especially for the occasion. All it said was—Park Jae-joon (aka ‘JJ’) DARE Awards Winner.

  Chairman Lee nodded and slipped the card inside his suit jacket. The formalities over, he pointed to a couch. JJ sat on the edge of the leather seat.

  ‘We are most proud of your achievement,’ the chairman said, ‘and privileged that you have agreed to allow us to make a robot like you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ JJ said politely. A smile spread across his face. Despite how he was meant to behave, he couldn’t contain his excitement for another second. ‘Chairman, I’m so excited about this!’ he blurted. ‘A RoboJJ? It’s the best … thing … ever!’

  The older man allowed himself an amused nod. ‘You sound like my grandson,’ he said. ‘Well, Jae-joon, let me show you the lab where your robotic self will be born.’

  The chairman led JJ to the elevated moving walkway that whisked them through the glass tunnel network that extended across RoboWorld like a hi-tech spider web. On the avenues below them, kids and parents munched fairy floss as droids from Galactic Quest clanked about. Overhead, more park visitors screamed with delight as a roller-coaster corkscrewed around a fire-breathing MechaDragon.

  ‘Programmers, meet Mr Park Jae-joon,’ the chairman said when they entered a vast security-controlled lab.

  As one, the white-coated men and women stopped what they were doing to bow to the chairman and JJ.

  ‘Hi,’ JJ said, returning the gesture, feeling both important and awkward. ‘Nice to meet you all.’

  ‘This way,’ the chairman said. He led JJ to a large white room fitted with exercise equipment and computer gear.

  ‘Project Jae-joon,’ the chairman commanded. ‘Activate.’

  A circular porthole on the floor opened and a silver cylinder hummed up into the room. Steel panels opened with a quiet whoosh.

  ‘Whoa!’ said JJ when he saw the robot inside. Apart from lifeless eyes, too-smooth skin and hair parted the wrong way, this cyborg was an exact replica of himself. ‘That is … freaky.’

  ‘Hello,’ the RoboJJ said in a monotone version of JJ’s voice. ‘My name is Jae-joon, also known as JJ.’

  JJ smiled. ‘Hello, you—I mean, almost-me.’

  The chairman nodded. ‘Still a work in progress. Ask him a question.’

  JJ gulped. What to ask himself? ‘Ah,’ he said with a nervous laugh, ‘what is your—my—favourite food.’

  ‘Data not found,’ RoboJJ said, its expression blank. ‘My name is Jae-joon, also known as JJ.’

  ‘See,’ the chairman said. ‘That’s why I asked you here. While we used footage from your television interviews to get started, now we need all the personal touches to make him as like you as possible.’

  ‘Deactivate,’ the chairman said. ‘Return to holding.’

  The silver cylinder closed around RoboJJ and slid back beneath the floor.

  Shaking off the weird feeling of seeing his double put into storage like a winter coat, JJ listened as the chairman explained the process that would complete RoboJJ.

  ‘We will record everything,’ he said, ‘facial expressions, speech patterns, body movements and some of your memories and brainwaves. We’ll scan your robotic legs and our engineers will manufacture exact duplicates. Once they are fitted, all your data is uploaded into the bio-behaviour software. Then we do some final printing to get the eyes, skin and hair right. When finished, he will be indistinguishable from the real you.’

  JJ didn’t know what to say—what he’d just seen and heard was totally weird and totally cool. He smiled to himself at the prank possibilities.

  ‘Any questions?’ the chairman asked.

  ‘Can he sit my history exam for me tomorrow?’ JJ smiled.

  His parents had only let him take this meeting with the chairman once he’d agreed to spend his whole day studying for his final school test of the year.

  ‘I am afraid not,’ the chairman answered with a grin. ‘It will be a few days before he is fully operational. But then, yes, theoretically, he could pass any exam as well as you—or even better.’

  ‘Better?’ JJ said, trying not to sound irritated.

  The chairman gave a little nod. ‘Connected to the internet, he will acquire, store and retrieve information faster than any human.’

  ‘So,’ JJ said, ‘I won’t be able to beat myself at chess?’

  ‘I’m afraid not.’

  ‘Well,’ he sniffed, ‘I bet I could stump him with knockknock jokes!’

  The chairman surprised JJ with a nod. ‘Actually, yes—recreating a sense of humour is the most difficult thing.’

  JJ grinned. ‘At least I’ve still got an edge.’

  Working quickly, a team of technicians hooked JJ up to dozens of electrodes and placed him in a chamber dotted with hundreds of lasers and cameras. For an hour, JJ walked around the room, jumped on a mini trampoline, jogged and then ran on a treadmill as he was tracked to the micrometre from every
angle. Then, for another hour, he had to recite the alphabet, repeat hundreds of words that flashed on a screen and respond to almost as many questions, ranging from ‘What’s your favourite food?’, where he answered ‘tacos with the works’, to ‘What’s your biggest fear?’, which was ‘definitely enclosed dark spaces’.

  ‘We’re all done,’ the chairman said, stepping into the room as a technician removed the last electrode from JJ’s neck. ‘A few days from now, Project Jae-joon will look, move, talk and even think like you.’

  JJ nodded. ‘I can’t wait to meet me.’

  Chairman Lee offered a bow and extended another card in both hands. JJ took the shiny, black plastic rectangle, which looked like a blank credit card.

  ‘This card guarantees free lifetime entry to RoboWorld for you and your guests,’ the chairman said. ‘And that includes as much food and drink as you want.’

  ‘Are you kidding?’

  The chairman smiled and shook his head. ‘No kidding.’

  ‘Thank you!’ JJ bowed and shook the chairman’s hand. ‘So I just show this card and I can visit whenever I want, and it’s an all-you-can-eat sorta deal?’

  Chairman Lee laughed. ‘Actually, the card is more of a ceremonial token. We’ve programmed all of our attractions and cafes to recognise your face. You’re part of the RoboWorld family now.’

  After leaving the research labs, JJ checked the countdown on his phone.

  He was running out of time to solve his piece of the puzzle. But now, led by tempting aromas, JJ wasn’t thinking about the First Sign—he was following his nose to a fast-food stand.

  ‘Good evening, Jae-joon, also known as JJ,’ a robot in a tuxedo said from behind the counter as soon as JJ approached.

  JJ grinned—he really would have to speak to the chairman about the whole name thing.

  ‘Would you like the spicy beef taco with cheese, sour cream and guacamole?’ the robot asked.

  JJ laughed. The questions he’d just answered meant that RoboWorld really did know him now. ‘Better make it four,’ he said.

  Another chef robot expertly assembled the tacos and handed them over, complete with his favourite drink.

  Wolfing down his feast, JJ felt like he’d won the DARE Award all over again. He had a golden ticket to his favourite place, not just for a day but for life. But JJ realised it’d be a mistake to risk his favourite roller-coaster so soon after stuffing himself. Hurtling around MechaDragon’s ‘Twists of Terror’ now might mean puking up his guts. That wouldn’t be a good look for anyone, but especially not for a newly minted member of the RoboWorld family.

  JJ needed something gentler. The closest attraction was the RoboFame Hall. Not quite as exciting—but it’d be cool to see where his robo-bro would soon be on display.

  With a nod to the uniformed humanoid Guardbot stationed outside, JJ strolled into the RoboFame Hall. The exhibition started right inside the entrance with a man in robes about to hammer an anvil.

  ‘Hi, Jae-joon, also known as JJ,’ said the robotic ancient dude as he swung metal on metal with a resounding clang. ‘My name is Hephaestus. In Ancient Greek mythology, I was born crippled but I went on to do great things, building robots to serve on Mount Olympus. Would you like to know more?’

  Although JJ dug that this dude’s backstory was like his own, he wanted to keep moving so he had time for that roller-coaster ride before he went home.

  ‘Not now, thanks, Heph,’ he said.

  Hephaestus resumed his statue pose. That was the good thing about robots. They didn’t take things personally.

  Under other spotlights were figures from Indian and Chinese legends, Leonardo da Vinci’s mechanical knight and even automated ducks and foxes from the Middle Ages. It was surprising that robot history stretched back so far.

  But what really intrigued JJ was the fake robot from nearly one hundred years ago. It was a huge shiny thing with a head like a silver garbage bin decorated with big cartoon eyes, a triangle nose and ridiculous oversized ears.

  ‘Hi Jae-joon, also known as JJ,’ the robot said, detecting his presence. ‘My name is Alpha. I was famous in the 1930s when my inventor claimed I was the world’s first man-machine. I could supposedly hold conversations, smoke cigars and fire a gun. Would you like to know more?’

  JJ laughed. ‘Yup.’

  ‘Despite my name, Alpha, which is the beginning of the alphabet in Greek, I wasn’t the beginning of the robot age,’ it said in a sad voice. ‘All of my tricks were done with hidden microphones and wires worked by people offstage. But in the next exhibition room, you will see the true alphas of the robot age.’

  But JJ had lost interest in seeing any more displays.

  All he could think about was the name of this silly robot in front of him—Alpha!

  JJ pulled out his phone and looked at the text he’d received.

  He had been sent a symbol after all! It was an alpha!

  It indicated beginning—and that could mean something when it came to decoding the First Sign!

  With fresh eyes, JJ looked at the image on the screen. Perhaps it wasn’t ANE but alpha followed by an N and an E.

  What was the most common N-E?

  ‘North-east,’ JJ whispered to himself. Like a light going on, it was suddenly clear. If he was right, then the numbers below the rest of the symbols could be map coordinates!

  JJ jumped up and down, roller-coasters far from his mind. He was sure he’d solved a key part of the puzzle, even if there were still a lot of ways to combine the numbers.

  He checked his phone and saw he was almost out of time.

  JJ desperately wanted to call the others and impress them with his breakthrough. But he also wanted to solve the whole puzzle before time ran out. Ten minutes left. It made sense that alpha came first. Knowing that, he might just crack the code in time!

  It had taken hours, but Yasmin was finally packed.

  ‘Got your passport?’ her mum asked.

  Yasmin tapped the jeans pocket that held her phone and passport.

  ‘All I need now is my journal,’ Yasmin said. She’d left it in the rooftop garden that morning. ‘I will just be a minute.’

  Yasmin bounded up the stairs, her heart pounding. As scary as the confrontation with Jackal had been, she hadn’t mentioned her troubles in her conversation with the other DARE winners. The others all seemed to be safe and she didn’t want to worry them unnecessarily. Her family had been cleaning up the shop, sweeping up broken merchandise, and Mahmoud had been grumbling about cleaning the paint off the security camera. Her uncles had gone home to their families. Things were returning to normal, and she wanted to put it all out of her mind so she could look forward to her trip to Athens. She brought up the seven mysterious symbols on her phone again, and noticed the clock was still ticking down.

  Yasmin looked out across the rooftops and at the pyramids rising up against the sand and sky. She nodded as if to say goodbye. Out there everything would be as it usually was on a busy Sunday afternoon. Visitors would be swarmed by touts selling trinkets. Tourists would be riding camels and imagining themselves back in the days of Tutankhamen. Families would be posing for comical selfies in which they ‘held’ the monuments between their fingers.

  She glanced back at her phone.

  Yasmin laughed nervously. The ticking clock seemed like a premonition, though she didn’t know of what. But her smile flatlined when she glanced back at the desert.

  Something was wrong. Very wrong.

  High above the pyramids a silver object streaked down towards the earth.

  A shooting star? Maybe a mirage of some sort?

  Yasmin tried to blink it away. But the silver streak didn’t disappear. And desert illusions didn’t make the sound of rolling thunder that now reached her ears. She squinted.

  The streak was a military fighter plane, racing down from the heavens. Its sweptback wings shone while the jet engines roared and left a vapour trail against the blue sky.

  Yasmin wondered what was go
ing on. If this was some sort of training exercise, she’d never seen anything like it. In a heartbeat, terror overtook her—the jet looked like it was on a collision course with the Great Pyramid!

  She gasped.

  But at the last moment, the plane veered away wildly.

  ‘Oh, thank—’ Yasmin started to say.

  Except now she saw the plane had fired a missile a second before it swooped clear.

  Krrrraaaawhoooosh!

  The rocket left a tunnel of smoke in the sky as it hurtled towards the Great Pyramid.

  Yasmin told herself she had to be dreaming. That this wasn’t happening.

  But it was.

  ‘Oh, no,’ she whispered helplessly. ‘Please, no!’

  She screamed as the missile slammed into the peak of the Great Pyramid with a brilliant red-and-white flash. Chunks of stone sprayed as a smoky fireball punched high into the sky. Debris avalanched down the ancient monument’s steep slopes. Almost a kilometre away, Yasmin’s building shuddered under the impact of the shockwave. Moments later Giza was engulfed by a terrible roar that seemed to swallow up every other sound. Yasmin fell to her knees, sobbing. Spewing fire and smoke, the Great Pyramid looked like a volcano. The explosive howl subsided, replaced by sirens and screams, rising from all around.

  Yasmin was dimly aware of a second explosion out near the horizon and saw what looked like a white parachute drifting down to the desert sands.

  Yasmin hauled herself to her feet. The peak of Egypt’s pride, the famous, heavy stones that had been in place for nearly five thousand years, had been reduced to rubble. But while the damage was terrible, Yasmin knew there would be thousands of tourists and locals around its base and in the path of the falling rocks. ‘All those people,’ Yasmin whispered. Unable to bear looking upon the devastation any longer, she lowered her gaze. Again, her eyes came to rest on the phone in her hand.

  Despite her shock, Yasmin dimly registered that the timer had not just hit zero but had reset and was counting down all over again. She couldn’t bring herself to wonder what it could mean.

 

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