Petra: Allendian Post-Apocalypse

by Stone, Nirina

  Coz why else would she try to kill it, right? Those things are clever.

  Then she takes out her little map and tries to figure out where she is. That tallest building there, she thinks, as she makes a note with what’s left of her pencil. Okay, so, the land is here. She makes another rough circle around where she needs to go. She can’t be more than a week away, she reckons.

  If only she could fix one of those cars sitting around. She knows how to, but they’re all so far gone, all the fixing she does just wastes her time and turns her hands greasy.

  So. Just one week. She leans back and chews on a hard, salty piece of meat.

  With that thing on my tail, I’m gonna need more blasters.

  Six

  The bot keeps walking, but the dark is coming, and it’s lost all traces of the human. The sun sets on the horizon as it approaches the old city, scanning left and right, up and down, with no luck.

  All it hears are various small animals settling down for the night, but knows that, soon as night comes and the bigger night animals wake to hunt, and they will lead it to the human.

  So it stands and stays put for an hour, two, maybe more. It doesn’t have to do anything but stand and wait. A big cat comes around its way warily, then sniffs around and walks away, knowing there’s nothing to be eaten there. Then another one and another.

  They keep walking past the bot, moving on to look for rodents and other critters that the planet has left behind. It knows they’re hunting—they’re always hunting, and it waits patiently, the sort of patience only a robot can have.

  Then one cat pauses for a moment and slinks forward, slightly crouched on its belly. Must be after yet another rodent.

  It stands so still, just four feet away from the bot, and it raises itself to look up into the sky, nose in the air, as if it can smell something.

  The hunter watches its actions and also lifts its eyes up to the sky and sees—the human’s hand.

  If robots could smirk, that’s the expression it would have on its face right now. Instead, it strides forward. The cat jumps out of the way then slowly follows in its footsteps as it approaches the closed door at the base of the tall building.

  It opens the door quietly, looking for the stairway that will take it up to the top. The elevator has long broken. It leaves the door wide open and the cat, followed by another, and even yet another, slink through behind it, all meaning to get to the top of the building before the others. All meaning to go after the human.

  Seven

  Sidney

  She hears them climb up, getting closer and closer every floor. They don’t run up the stairs, or bother muffling their steps. They all know she’s here, that she’s got nowhere to go, and that they have time.

  She checks her goods once more and tries to steady her heartbeats. Nayne always said they can hear hearts from far but didn’t know just from how far. Still, she hopes her little hiding spot is small enough that they’d have a hard time getting to her before what she needs doing gets done.

  She’s done her recon on this building, she knows there’s very little chance of escape. If she manages to take them out with her, today, on her last day alive, that’s what she’ll do. It’s what Nayne did. We go out with a bit of a bang, the Chester girls. That’s what Nayne always said. She smiles, remembering that, and feeling warmth in her heart. She’s sure Nayne’s with her right now, even if she can’t see her. She knows she’ll help Sid stay strong. She knows she’ll help her take out as many of them as she can before she dies.

  Then the small door to the room pushes forward and she knows they’re here. She holds her breath and shuts her eyes for a moment, drawing more strength from Nayne’s memory, drawing what she can remember. “Stay strong,” she’d say. “Stay strong and don’t give in.”

  She opens her eyes wide again and looks through a small crack she left in the ceiling, to spy on her enemies.

  Large paws double the size of her head push through into the room. She still doesn’t know why these bots were made to look like big cats and animals. Everyone knows there aren’t any real animals like these out here.

  Nayne had said some were held in a historical place that showcased animals from another planet and another time, and others were kept as exotic “pets” by Allendians, but it all makes little sense to her.

  The cat strides in and immediately looks up to where she is—it hears her heart of course.

  Then another one walks through, then another, and another.

  They all gather right under the spot she’s crouched, all staring up at her sightless—coz she knows those aren’t real eyes they’re using to peer up at her. Then she braces herself as more of them walk in as the first cat begins its slow crouch to lay its belly flat on the ground. It’ll pounce in about T-Minus five—four—three—two—.

  She presses the button and pushes herself as far back against the top of the floating ceiling as she can.

  Still, the explosion is so loud, it leaves her ears pounding and ringing. Her hands raise automatically to her face and her right hand comes back wet with blood. Her left ear is still pounding as it fights against the pain and noise. The right ear murmurs and pounds too, but she can’t hear a thing from there, then realizes it’s bleeding too.

  That’s fine. Where she’s going next, she won’t need to hear a thing.

  She peers down to the smog and black smoke that still rises to where she sits. She tries to fight back the choking coughs but knows it’s useless. So she hacks and coughs and coughs, knowing that they’re not all taken care of yet.

  As she coughs, she remembers her knife in her bag and scrambles to take it out. She’s never had to use it to protect herself, doesn’t even know if it would do anything to the robot. But today’s a good day as any to see.

  Once the smog settles, she looks down again, and there it is—the robot that was after her.

  It stares around at the debris—leftover bits of the other bots. It’s not like it’ll miss any of them, she thinks. Then it looks around in the broken bits and matter, and she realizes it’s probably looking for parts it can use. It knows she’s still up here—her heart’s erratic as all get-go, but it’s still in no rush.

  After it’s moved around through the debris, finding maybe three pieces that it places into a compartment in its leg, it finally stops rummaging and looks up to where she sits in the ceiling. Another cat moves to its side and stares up as well, meaning to pounce. It’s lost one of its hind legs, but she knows from this angle, that won’t stop it from getting to her. She presses on her second button, waiting for the explosion.

  She depresses the button harder, but nothing happens. She knows the explosives didn’t all go off with that first button—else she would have blown out of the ceiling too. So, as she frantically presses on the button twenty, thirty times, she realizes something down there’s broken.

  She watches as the cat flattens itself flush to the ground. Then pounces.

  Eight

  The hunter bot hears the human’s heart beating faster as it pushes something in its hand. Its eyes are big as it stares down at the bot and the last of the two remaining hunting animals.

  But the bot’s scanner sputters, like it’s coming back online. Something in that last explosion nudged it back to life. The human’s blocker could only do so much.

  The bot looks up at the human, and its secondary scanner works, but is inferior to the primary scanner which is now broken. The scanner comes back with: Possibly has the flu. Can not confirm. Must extract. Stand down.

  With that, the bot turns and clamps its arms around the cat that’s pounced. Until it’s sure whether this human has the flu or not, the human can not be assassinated. It must be checked closely. The bot must extract its blood.

  The cat turns as if to defend itself but the hunter slams its body into the concrete so hard, it sits still, its eyes lighting up for a split second before dying.

  Then the hunter turns to the other cat as it moves up to its side.


  “Subject possibly healthy, stand down,” it instructs, and the cat sits back on its haunches, waiting for its next instructions.

  Then the bot looks up into the small crack in the ceiling.

  “I need to extract your blood. You are possibly healthy. Kindly comply and climb down from this high spot.”

  And it waits.

  Nine

  You—what?? Sidney thinks. Is this some sort of trick? Must be, because this thing is out to kill her, isn’t it? But she sits back as she stares down at it. Why did it stop that cat from getting her? And why is it standing there, as if waiting patiently for her? If it wants to kill her, well it wouldn’t go through all this. Time doesn’t pass for it the way it does for humans, but still, it works with purpose. What is the purpose of this?

  So—not a trick then.

  “You are possibly healthy,” it said, though she knows that to not be true. Maybe it’s broken somehow. “My primary scanner is disabled. Kindly comply.”

  Okay, so if it’s broken, and thinks she might be healthy, that buys her some time. To do what? She doesn’t know. Time to figure out how to fix the last of her explosives and take it out, she reckons.

  She doesn’t have much of a choice anyway, she thinks as she screams and the ceiling underneath her collapses. The knife falls out of her hand, but she hardly notices as she flails her arms, trying to grab on to something.

  The robot has already stepped to the side as this happens, and easily catches Sidney in its open arms. For a moment, she panics, wanting to jump out of its reach and run for her life.

  But it twists to the side as more of the ceiling falls. Then, with the cat in its shadow, it runs out the door, and keeps going down the stairs. It doesn’t stop until it reaches the outside of the building.

  Sidney guesses her other explosives must have worked because as it ran, she heard another blast followed by another, and the eastern portion of the building’s penthouse turn to rubble.

  Okay, she thinks. There goes that idea. How is she going to kill this thing now, without a single explosive left to her name? The knapsack, still snugly on her back, contains nothing she can use to protect herself from her—it, she tells herself. Yes, it looks like a woman.

  But it’s an it. It continues to move, to run in the dark. Sidney’s so tired that the movement makes her close her eyes for a moment, but she pinches herself back awake. The last thing she needs right now is to fall asleep just to, what? Die the moment the bot discovers she’s sick?

  Still, she relaxes in its arms as it keeps running steadily. It’s calming, soothing, and for the first time in years, Sidney’s not being chased by something that wants to kill her... though she knows that will change the moment the bot works properly again.

  She lays her head back slightly, leaning into its warm metal body.

  Because she—it—is warm, the more it runs, the warmer it gets. It won’t overheat, she knows that much, but it’s still nice and warm. She stops fighting the urge to sleep.

  She leans her head into its shoulder and closes her eyes. Oh well, is the last thought in her head as she falls into slumber. If she dies, she won’t know coz she’ll be asleep. That would be A-okay.

  Ten

  Bot #50602 slows to a steady walk, still holding the still form in its arms. It knows to bring it to shelter, and has to within the next three minutes, else the rains will come and eat at its skin—the bot’s too, but its skin is far more fragile. The night rains wreck everything.

  So the bot doesn’t stop walking until it reaches yet another dilapidated building, one smaller than the one this human child hid in.

  The night is a consistent black now, not a hint of a light from anywhere. Somewhere on Earth, if there was still an Earth, moonlight would have illuminated things somewhat. Here in the Blue Dome on Allenda, there’s nothing. The moons are too far away and whatever energy the light sources used is long gone. Just the bot’s ability to move in the dark. It walks into the small building and finds a small enough corner section where it rests the form on the ground. Humans need beds, it reminds itself.

  “Protect this human,” it instructs the big cat, then turns to look around in the vicinity. Chances are good it won’t find a single thing that’s suitable, but old training, training from days far before it was programmed to kill the sick kicks in. The bot is compelled to keep this human comfortable, warm. She needs to rest.

  For tomorrow the robot will bring her out of this dome through the mass red desert, and on to the next dome where her blood can be extracted and examined. Where it can determine whether she is ill.

  The bot walks down a short set of stairs and finds itself in another empty black room. There’s nothing suitable here, it notes, making its way back up the stairs and into the dark hallway where it left the cat and the human.

  The human’s snuggled up to the giant side of the cat and the bot wonders why—surely its rough hide could not offer comfort the same way a bed could. Still, it doesn’t move it from the cat’s form. Instead it sits across from them and turns to watch as the skies open and the night rains come to cleanse the world for a few hours more.

  The bot doesn’t sleep. It keeps its eyes open and waits until several hours later when the rains finally stop and dawn breaks. Without pause, it stands to walk into the open air and stands in the still street, charging under the sun. It won’t take long with this new body. Half hour tops, then it can take the human and make its way to the edge of the dome.

  Eleven

  Sidney

  She wakes, rubbing her eyes, then flinches when her back stiffens and throbs. It takes a split moment to remember where she is as she breathes in and smells—metal. She sits back, moving herself as far from the robotic cat as possible until her back is flush to the wall.

  Then everything comes back at once and she looks around, still keeping the cat in her peripheral vision as she looks for her—for it.

  She sees it right outside the doors, standing there in the bleak sunlight, recharging, she’s guessing, but for how long?

  It can’t have been dawn for long, she decides. The ground outside’s still slightly damp from the rain last night. The rain that’s happened every night since before she was born. “It’s scheduled,” Nayne had explained to Sid. “Which means it doesn’t happen naturally. I don’t know why they’d had it scheduled.”

  It was only recently that the rains changed from a nice daily warmish shower—she loved standing out there naked, scrubbing at her skin as hard as she could—and turned into a skin-melting, metal-eating vicious thing. She hasn’t showered in months.

  As the robot stands out there, still recharging, she knows this might be her only chance of escape, and she looks around for a weapon, anything suitable that will help her damage the thing enough for a few minutes so she can run.

  Keeping the cat in her peripheral vision, she stands and turns but the room they’re in—looks like it was once a coffee shop or meeting shop of sorts—stands empty except for a half a dozen chairs in one corner.

  The cat doesn’t budge as Sidney steps towards the chairs, picking each one up to feel the heft of them. Then she grabs one smallish silver one—could be aluminum or another lighter metal, but strong enough, she reckons. If this bot is anything like the older one, its legs can be taken out.

  She walks past the cat, out the front doors, and straight up to the bot as it recharges. She slams the chair into the bot’s legs as hard as her arms can, so hard the impact resonates up her arms and hurts her right elbow so much, she drops the chair as it clatters and echoes on the ground ahead, and she falls to the ground, holding on to her aching elbow.

  She huffs and looks up, but the impact did nothing to the bot. After another moment, she grabs the chair again, and bracing herself for the pain this time, rams it against the bot’s side, its face, its back. She’s not quite tall enough to hit it over the head, but tries—and fails—to put a dent in its face.

  She drops the chair again, both elbows aching now, and eyes t
he cat as she grabs for her knapsack. She doesn’t know why she didn’t grab the bag first—maybe a part of her knew this was all moot, but she had to try, anyway.

  A handful of silver dust rolls past her and she scoops it up, knowing it won’t be enough to do any real damage—still she takes out the tiny plastic container in her sack and pours it in. If she comes across more, it should be enough to make a little bang.

  She fights the urge to still run because she doesn’t have enough powder for explosives, and if she’s being honest, she’s tired of running. For now. It’s nice to not have to run for a change, even if it’s temporary. Maybe this bot could help her get to the promised land. It and this—cat-thing.

  So she sits still, finally giving in to the rumbles in her tummy, urging her that it’s breakfast time, that it wants food. With her eyes still on the charging robot, she pulls her knapsack closer—the cat doesn’t even blink—and she rummages around for another strip of dried cured meat. She chews on it, still with her eyes on the bot.

  She counts to three hundred and fifty two before it’s finally done and turns around to find Sidney staring back.

  “Are you ready, little human?” The voice is normal, almost like Nayne’s, then Sidney fights the thought. Do not compare this killing machine to Nayne now. That won’t end well.

  “Ready for what?” she says, still aware than any moment now, the thing’s scanner could start working, and that would be the end of that.

  “To travel, to the southern dome. The Red Dome.”

  The southern dome? Does it mean where the other robots used to be stationed?

  “Why the southern dome?” she asks.

  “That is where I can extract your blood, where I can study it.”