A Hero for WondLa

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A Hero for WondLa Page 12

by Tony DiTerlizzi


  “Well, I am ready to leave,” said Eva, “just as soon as they bring up our stuff.”

  “I don’t want anything else from that fraud,” Eight said. “I just want to start a new life. With you.”

  “Well, as soon as we get our O-pods back, I can contact the pilot who brought me here and he can tell me where to meet up with Rovee. He must be in the city by now, looking for me. I can’t leave without him.”

  “You mentioned Rovee before,” Eight said. “Does he work with the retriever who brought you?”

  “No. He’s a Cærulean and my best friend.”

  “Cærulean? You mean an alien? Is here in New Attica looking for you?” A look of alarm came over Eva Eight. “Why didn’t you say so before?”

  “Well, I know there’s not a lot of aliens here, but—”

  “There are no aliens here.”

  “But I saw—”

  “Nine, listen to me when I tell you—there are no aliens living in New Attica.” Eight was now aghast. “No one here knows of their existence at all. Didn’t you listen to what Cadmus was saying? If your friend came here, he’s probably been thrown into the detainment ward where we were . . . or worse.”

  “Why? Rovender could teach everyone about the outside . . . ,” Eva started, but then the memory of the Gens having no idea who, or what, Rovender was flitted into her mind.

  It’s a troll from a fairy tale program, Gen had said.

  The Divination Machine had shown her a future.

  A future without aliens.

  I could just send him over to meet you once they’re back, Hailey had said.

  “We have to leave now!” Eva rushed to the door, passing through the hologram of Stravinsky while he played furiously at his piano. “I have to find Rovee!” she said, activating the door’s switch. The door did not move. “What’s wrong! Why won’t it open?” Eva’s heart began to race.

  Eva Eight joined her and punched at the buttons on the control pad. “It’s locked,” she said. “I knew it! Room Thirty-Nine-Seventy-Three, please open our front door.”

  “I apologize,” the room responded in a relaxed tone. “I am experiencing a momentary system glitch with the doors on your level, which is causing them to malfunction. I shall have this remedied in just a few moments. Please hold. I am sorry for the inconvenience.”

  “There’s no other way out of here?” Eva ran to the window and looked out. Even though the sides of the pyramid were angled, it was a long drop to the ground below.

  “Hold on,” Eight said. “I’ll get us out of here. I just need to think.” She paced through the rooms.

  Eva calmed herself and cleared her mind as she followed her sister. I’ve been presented with a puzzle, she thought. What would Rovender do? She examined the ceiling and the floors, looking for a clue to aid in their escape. “Eight, what about this?” Eva pointed to the sealed hatch where the autoserver had exited.

  “That’s a maintenance hatch for service robots,” Eight said.

  “Let’s call one up.” Eva ran over to the main keypad for the room and pressed the call button.

  “I apologize. Your main door is still malfunctioning. May I help you with something else?” the room asked.

  “Yes,” Eva said. “I’d like to order some . . . um . . . more food, please. Some synthsushi.”

  “Once again, I must apologize,” the room replied. “There is a temporary hold on the autoservice on your floor because the malfunctioning doors are causing a backup of deliveries from our kitchen. Please contact us again in a few moments. Once again, I apologize . . .”

  Eva ignored the rest of the message and rushed back to the hatch. She ran her fingers around the tight-fitting seam but could not pry it open. “How do we get this to open?”

  “I dunno.” Eva Eight knelt alongside her. “Usually these robots just come in and make your bed or clean up any messes you make.”

  Eva ran out to the dining room.

  “Where are you going?” asked Eight.

  Eva returned, a hovchair in her hands. “If there is one thing I know how to do, it’s make a mess.” She ran into the washroom and hammered the sink faucet with the chair. After three loud clangs the faucet broke off and water spewed into the room.

  “Good afternoon,” the room greeted them. “Our sensors indicate that you may have a leaky faucet in your washroom. May we send up an autoserver from maintenance to address this?”

  “Yes, please,” Eva replied as calmly as possible.

  “One moment,” said the room.

  Eva grabbed another floating hovchair from the dining room and slid it over to Eva Eight. “Get ready,” she said, and sidled up to the hatch.

  There was a rush of air followed by a hiss of the hatch as it slid open. The waist-high autoserver rolled out. “Greetings,” it said. “I am autoserver forty-two, and I am here to—”

  Eva whacked the robot across the room with the hovchair. “Jam the door with the chair!” she yelled to Eva Eight. She rushed over to the robot and pushed it into the flooding bathroom. Eva closed the door behind it and locked it.

  “No. He’ll warn the others!” Eight wedged her chair in the opened hatch.

  “It’s okay.” Eva hurried toward the hatch. “We’ll be gone before anyone comes. We don’t need to hurt him.”

  Eva Eight brushed past Eva Nine, snatching the chair from her hands. “He’s a robot, Nine. They’ll fix him.” She opened the bathroom door and began pummeling the autoserver with the hovchair.

  Eva blocked out the sound of the robot’s demise and tried to keep her focus on escaping. She peered down the vertical channel that the autoserver had come up. It was brightly lit by rows of recessed lights and was about as wide as the kitchen exhaust shaft she had used to escape her Sanctuary. But, unlike the exhaust shaft, the vertical channel had no rungs to hold on to for climbing. Eva crawled in, keeping herself in a crouched position. Using her legs, she pressed her back against the wall of the duct and began to scuttle downward. “Come on! We need to go!” her voice echoed up to Eva Eight.

  Her sister scrambled in and kicked out the chair that was jamming the hatch to their room. The hatch slammed shut, which caused the lighting to extinguish, leaving the two sisters alone in the dark.

  “We have to move fast before they send up another service robot.” Eight’s voice bounced down to Eva as they continued their steep descent.

  “There is a junction just a little farther,” Eva said. “I can see a light coming from it.” She crawled into the adjoining horizontal duct and poked her head out to watch her sister’s progress.

  “I’m almost there,” Eight said. The lights in the channel flickered back on, and a whooshing sound could be heard from the bowels of the pyramid. A strange clanging reverberated up the vertical duct. Eva looked down to investigate.

  Below she could see the duct junctions sealing shut in ascending order. “Hurry! They’re sending up another robot!”

  Eva Eight began moving faster and lost her footing. She shrieked as she tumbled down the cramped duct toward Eva.

  With arms outstretched Eight caught the lip of the opening as she fell past it. Eva seized her sister and yanked her into the horizontal shaft. Eight slid her feet in just as the junction opening sealed shut. There was a rush of air outside as an autoserver shot past them.

  “The channels are pneumatic,” Eight said as she caught her breath. “They use air to push the robots around.”

  “We’re going to have to be careful,” Eva said. Far above she could hear the faint sound of their room hatch sealing shut. The lights dimmed once more.

  “I’ll say.” Eva Eight squeezed Eva’s hand in the dark. “Thanks for helping me. I don’t think that would have ended so well.”

  “No problem.” Eva smiled. She curled her small lithe body into a tight ball and turned around in the cramped space. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?” Eight asked.

  “Back to the detainment ward. If Rovee is there, I have to rescue him.” Eva
crawled on hands and knees. The lights flicked back on and air rushed through nearby ducts.

  “Nine, that’s not a good idea. We need to get out of here. Cadmus will find us.”

  “I’m not leaving until I find Rovee.” Eva’s voice was resolute. “I knew something was wrong. He would have found me by now.”

  “He’s just an alien. I can take better care of you.”

  “He is NOT just an alien!” snapped Eva. “You don’t know him. He’d do anything for me.”

  “I’m sure he would,” said Eight. The lights darkened and the channel became quiet once more. “But no one knows you like I do, Nine. We are from the same birthplace. We were raised identically. We have experienced many of the same things. I understand what you’re feeling.”

  “If you understand, then you know I have to go and rescue Rovee,” Eva countered.

  “I am glad that this alien helped you. You’ve clearly been through a lot. We all have, but—”

  “You don’t know what I’ve been through!” Eva said. “You don’t know me!” Tears pricked her eyes. “If you want to leave, go ahead. But I have to find my friend.” She began moving faster now.

  “No!” Eight reached out and seized Eva’s foot. “Don’t do this. We have to escape together. I’ve waited so long for you to come.”

  “No! Let go of me!” cried Eva. “Let go!” She kicked wildly. Eight let out a yelp and suddenly released her sister. Eva scrambled away from Eight as fast as she could, and then she stopped after several meters and stifled her tears. Why can’t Muthr be here? She’d agree to go after Rovee.

  In the darkness Eva heard a hissing sound echo throughout the shaft. The hatch below her opened and she tumbled down into the darkened labyrinth of ducts.

  CHAPTER 17: TESTS

  Eva rolled down an angled shaft and slammed into a closed hatch door. She lay crumpled at a bend created by the angled duct joining with a horizontal one. A blast of air surged past her, followed by a rising whine. The lights in the horizontal duct flashed on, and Eva could see an autoserver barreling down the channel directly toward her. Frantic, she kicked hard on the hatch door, trying to knock it open, but to no avail.

  The zooming robot was almost upon Eva. She scooted up the angled shaft just as the autoserver slowed and exited through the maintenance hatch. Eva dropped down and followed the robot out into the room.

  She entered a white, dimly lit atrium devoid of any décor. The autoserver paid Eva no mind as it rolled through one of the many doorways that ringed the room. Eva moved to follow the robot, but the door slid shut quickly behind it. As Eva neared the door, the solid material that it was constructed from became transparent. Though the door remained closed, she could see the autoserver continue down the hall and into another room. It was the same hall Cadmus had led her down earlier from the registrar’s office.

  I’m near the medlabs, she thought. Eva backed away from the door, and it became opaque again. I have to find Rovee. How do I get out of here?

  Eva approached the next door on the right. Inside the room, a robot, similar in appearance to Muthr, lay on a gurney with its head and braincase opened up. A duo of crab-shaped automedics hovered around the patient, one holding a large liquid-filled beaker with a pink brain suspended within. Wires and electrodes hung limply from the dripping brain tissue as the other member of the surgical team removed the organ from the jar and placed it in the patient’s braincase.

  Eva shuddered and moved on. The next room appeared empty, save for a disassembled robot lying in pieces on a worktable.

  The atrium door hissed open again, and the autoserver rolled back in. Eva ducked into the room with the disassembled robot.

  From inside she watched the autoserver approach the maintenance hatch, which opened, dispensing a parcel of pressed and folded exam gowns. The robot grabbed the bundle and wheeled to a supply closet. Eva spied on the robot, which continued to load the shipment of medical supplies into the closet.

  Deciding it was best to stay hidden from the autoserver, Eva remained in the room and inspected the fragments laid out on a surgeon’s table. She realized that these were not pieces of a broken-down robot as she had assumed, but a collection of alien artifacts and components. Those are vocal transcoders . . . and that’s a boomrod charger just like Besteel carried. She picked up the heavy battery pack. Coiled nearby was the connecting charge cable. In another pile was a rifle-size boomrod with the handle removed. What would Cadmus want with Dorcean weapons? She scooped up a handful of transcoders.

  Eva checked on the autoserver’s progress out in the atrium. The robot unloaded the last of the shipment, entered the maintenance hatch, and zoomed off down the duct. The hatch sealed shut behind it, leaving the atrium vacant. Eva slipped out of her room and into the supply closet. The lights in the closet flickered on, and the room greeted her, “Hello . . . I’m sorry. I am having trouble identifying you. I need an identification before I can help you.”

  “Oh, it’s okay,” Eva replied, her eyes scanning the room. The walls were lined with shelves containing a variety of medical and surgical supplies—dissecting scissors, forceps, and clamps. On the back wall she spied a rack with blue uniforms similar to what Cadmus’s aide had been wearing when she’d arrived in the medlab. “My tracking . . . er . . . identification chip has been malfunctioning. My name is Van Turner. I am a new aide to Cadmus Pryde. He sent me here to get outfitted.”

  “Welcome, Van Turner,” the room replied. “Please stand on the lighted pedestal here.” A glowing tile rose from the floor, and Eva took her position. A red laser scanned over her body. “I apologize, but your size is smaller than the majority of our staff,” reported the room. “However, I have attire that will suit your needs temporarily.” A thin rod extended from the wall. From the rod hung a pressed uniform, which included a lab coat and skullcap. “I have placed an order matched to your actual measurements. Please check back with me in twenty-four hours, and I will have it pressed and ready.”

  “Thank you,” Eva said, and changed out of her garish garment. She pulled her iridescent hair back into a bun and then tucked it into the skull cap. Eva balled up her Emote-Attire and threw it into a trash receptacle. She then looked out into the atrium for any sign of activity.

  The medlab hall door opened, and a hovering gurney floated into the atrium. Lying unmoving on the gurney was a human patient with a large respirator strapped to the face. A neighboring door opened, and the gurney floated in. Eva slipped out of the closet and peered into the patient’s room.

  It was hard to see any facial details from her vantage point at the door, but the unconscious individual was dressed in an exam gown. Pale human feet stuck out from the gray gown, and a variety of medical apparatus were attached to the hands and head. Over the gurney flickered several holographic charts detailing the patient’s vitals.

  A low bleep sounded in the room, and an automedic descended from the ceiling. Its movement reminded Eva of the holograms she’d seen of a spider dropping into its web to eat its entwined prey. The robot spoke to the gurney, and the bed turned to float back out of the room. To avoid detection Eva dashed from the doorway and into the abandoned room with the alien artifacts.

  Huddled near the closed door, Eva now had a clear vantage point as the automedic followed the gurney across the atrium and into an adjacent room. Though the patient’s face was partially covered by the respirator, the brown and blue hair was unmistakable.

  It was Hailey.

  As soon as the door slid shut behind the gurney and the automedic, Eva slipped back into the atrium. Peeking into Hailey’s room, she watched as the robot pushed the pilot’s bed next to an empty gurney on the far side of the large lab. In the center stood an examination chair with its back to the door.

  The automedic turned from Hailey and tended to the chair. Eva realized there was another patient that she could not see.

  Van Turner?

  What she could discern was a series of wires and electrodes going into the chair and
patient, likely for monitoring. The robot removed several of the electrodes near the patient’s head and set them in a jar of fluid. Crimson blood ran off the electrodes and swirled around in the jar, tinting the fluid pink.

  The robot dressed the patient’s head and then picked up an Omnipod and spoke into it. Through the door it was hard to hear what the robot was saying, but it sounded like abrupt commands. Eva longed for her Omnipod so that she could eavesdrop. She gave a start of surprise when the mysterious patient in the chair began to convulse violently. Eva’s eyes darted around the atrium. She was half-waiting for the commotion to attract other robots. When it did not, she looked back into Hailey’s room. The automedic gave a quick injection to the convulsing patient, stopping the seizure.

  Eva gasped as a familiar arm hung limply from the armrest of the chair. Thick blue fingers twitched in erratic spasms from a spiderweb of wires and electrodes snaked under pallid blue skin.

  “Rovee!” Eva shrieked, and the door to the lab hissed open.

  CHAPTER 18: SUBJECTS

  May we help you?” The automedic rushed over to the door. “Your identifier is not responding. Therefore, you must have an authorization code before entering.”

  Eva froze, unsure of what to do. Cadmus is going to catch me for sure, she thought. He’s going to catch me and put wires into my body and brain.

  “Please identify yourself with an authorization code within ten seconds or we shall summon security,” the automedic said. It then began to count down, “Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . .”

  “An authorization code?” Eva’s mind reeled.

  “Seven . . . six . . . five . . . four . . .”

  Somehow that term rang a bell. She remembered being locked out of her Sanctuary and needing a code to reenter.

  “Three . . . two . . .”

  “C-P-zero-one. Password: omniscient,” Eva replied.

  The automedic withdrew from its position and returned to its patients. Eva followed with trepidation, and the lab door slid shut behind her.

 

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