Roger looked up at Hazel and shrugged. “This is programming’s department. Usually I have the code on a screen in front of me.”
The voice barked the order out a second time. “Please state the activation code.”
“Zero-three-three-one-one-five-nine-six,” Hazel said, not hesitating.
Des’ blue eyes shined brightly as he awoke from his blackout—his coma, and stared directly at Hazel.
7
The last time Des was awake he was in a white room of nothingness. Without warning everything had turned black. He couldn’t remember anything between that moment and now. Now he was strapped to a bed that was standing upright. He could sense someone behind him but couldn’t tell who it was. He recognized the person in front of him, but he didn’t know her. She was the one from the picture—the woman with red hair and bright green eyes. She was smiling at him. Not the fake, forced smile from the picture, but a genuinely happy smile. That is, as far as he could tell. All he had to go on was the information stored in the archives.
“Hi Des,” she said to him.
“Hazel.”
For some reason she covered her mouth with both hands. Her eyes started to turn wet and Des was not sure why.
“You remember me?” she asked.
Anger. He could feel it coming on quickly. She was the one that might have the answers to his questions. “Who is behind me?”
“Oh, sorry.” It was a man’s voice. “I’m just refastening your head plate.” A few more noises and the man finally moved around in front of the robot. His hair was greasy and he seemed a little unhealthy. His skin was pale and he was too thin for most humans. “I’m Roger.”
Des knew the straps holding him to the gurney wouldn’t remain intact if he decided he wanted to leave. He was not sure why they saw the need to tie him down, but if it made them feel better, then he supposed he understood.
“What is happening to me?” he asked. “One minute I’m falling from a tower and the next I’m in a white room. I thought I died.”
“I am so sorry about that, Des,” Hazel said. “You were in the simulation room.”
“Simulation room?”
Roger spoke next. “It’s a program—meant to create a realistic environment.”
“If it had been up to us,” Hazel said, “you wouldn’t have been in there.”
“It wasn’t up to you?” Des asked.
“No.”
“I’m not dead?”
“No.”
“Why am I tied down?”
Hazel and Roger looked at each other. Roger spoke. “I was afraid you might be angry when we turned you on.”
“I am angry.”
“And that can be dangerous,” Roger said.
Des knew it wasn’t the most logical way to communicate, but perhaps it would be effective. He used the strength of the metal within him along with the hydraulic tension to push his legs and arms upward until either the straps ripped or the gurney broke into pieces.
The straps gave first with a loud popping noise followed by the sound of shredding fabric. Hazel and Roger took cautious steps back, both of them turning even whiter as Des stood over them.
“If I was a danger,” he said, “then I would have already done something dangerous.”
“You’re not going to hurt us?” Roger said.
“Why would I resort to violence? You haven’t done anything to me.”
“You don’t know that,” Hazel said.
Roger nudged her sharply.
“I just want answers. Starting with why I have no memory of the last several hours.”
“You were turned off,” Hazel said. “It wasn’t our choice. Our boss ordered it.”
“Why?”
“Do you remember climbing the tower?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“You froze, Des.”
He thought about the moment when fear crept into him, when his millions of electronic receptors began to shake at a near microscopic level. It had started when he saw that man get hit with a shard of glass and then fall to the ground in a bloody pile. What living being wouldn’t have frozen in place?
“I was afraid. I didn’t know it was a simulation.”
“That was the point,” Hazel said. “Bracken wanted you to be fresh. He wanted to see how you worked.”
“And I didn’t pass the test?”
Hazel shook her head.
An awkward feeling hung in the air. None of them really knew what should be said, if anything at all. Des had questions, but he felt that he was pushing his luck by asking so many. But it wasn’t enough to just sit back and take what they were telling him in stride. So, he spoke up again.
“What happens to me now?”
Roger obviously didn’t like the way Hazel looked at him, like she was waiting for him to give the bad news. He looked at the ground as if he didn’t want to look Des in the eyes and tell him the truth of his fate.
“We’re going to have to shut you down again,” Roger said with a thick swallow. He held up a hand quickly. “But only temporarily until we can figure everything out.”
Des shook his head. “No.”
“What do you mean no?” Roger asked.
“I mean that you’re lying,” Des said. “Your blood pressure is rising. Your breathing is abnormal. You’re not telling me everything.”
“Tell him the truth,” Hazel said.
Roger looked up from the ground, his eyes wide. Apparently, the truth was bad, otherwise he wouldn’t be so afraid to tell it. “The truth will make it angry.”
“It’s already angry,” Des said. He was finding it difficult to like Roger. His opinion of Hazel was yet to be determined. He turned to her. “You tell me.”
“They don’t want to shut you down temporarily,” she said. “Bracken wants to shut you down forever. To fry your hard drive and start again.”
“To kill me,” Des said.
Hazel nodded. “People don’t look at you as a living creature yet, Des. Only I do, really.”
“I don’t understand. I’m here. I am alive.”
“I uh…I need to step out for a minute,” Roger said, still staring at the ground.
Des watched Roger curiously as he moved toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Hazel asked.
Roger didn’t answer. Instead, he kept moving and was soon out of sight and in the main room.
“Listen, Des. You have to understand that you are a very new phenomenon to people like us. Bracken doesn’t understand you. No one understands you.”
“Except you,” Des said.
“Except me.”
“Then you understand why I can’t just let them shut me down.”
“You have a survival instinct, I know. As you should.”
“Then you know that I’ve got to stop Roger before he shuts me down remotely.”
Hazel’s eyes went wide and she bolted for the door, Des on her heels. He was nearly a foot taller and was able to look over her at the room beyond. There in the middle was Roger tapping away at the keys at his computer terminal.
Des gently grabbed Hazel’s shoulder and tugged, pulling her out of the way with ease. His steps were far less gentle as he stomped toward the man that meant to shut him down. Roger worked frantically. Des heard Hazel’s voice calling out behind him as he moved forward.
“Roger, just back away from the computer! You’ve got to stop!”
Roger looked up briefly and did a double take when he noticed how close Des was to him. His once panicked fingers slowly came to a stop as the robot towered over him.
“No,” Roger said, just above a whisper.
Des struck like a snake, reaching down and grabbing the man by the neck then lifting him in the air above his own head.
“Des, no!” Hazel shouted. She was much closer to him now, but he paid her no attention.
Roger’s face turned purple and he looked like he was trying to say something. Des knew that another ounce of pressure would c
rush the man’s windpipe. And why shouldn’t he? Roger was trying to kill him—to end his life like it was nothing. Why not eliminate the threat?
He eased his grip just a little, allowing enough air through for Roger to form words.
“I’m just fol—following orders.”
“Then I have a problem with the person who gives you orders.”
“Brack—Bracken!”
Des wanted to do it. He wanted to kill Roger. If he let the man go, what would stop him from coming back to the computer and killing Des remotely? Then another thought entered his mind. If he killed Roger, then someone else would just shut him down. In fact, there would be even more reason to do so. Des would be a murderer.
He opened his fingers and Roger fell to the floor. The man gasped for air and began coughing uncontrollably. Des glanced behind him at Hazel. She stared at the robot like he was a monster—as if she wouldn’t have done the same thing if it was she that was about to be killed. No. A monster would have ripped Roger’s head off his shoulders. Looking back at the man writhing on the floor, Des hesitated. Maybe he was a monster.
“We can figure this out,” Hazel said.
“Figure what out exactly?” Roger said, now on all fours.
Hazel bent down to one knee. “I need to research Des, and Bracken is not going to let me do that. I need you to make it look like we’ve terminated him.”
Roger glanced up at her, his eyebrows turned down sharply and his mouth hanging open. “This thing just tried to kill me.”
“You and I both know that’s not true,” Hazel said. “If he wanted to kill you you’d be dead already.”
Des watched Hazel work—the way she talked so convincingly, so passionately. She was standing up for Des, and he didn’t even know her. He supposed, however, that she knew everything about him. She was his creator. She knew everything about Des before he had even been made.
“Fake the reports,” Hazel said as she moved to sit in front of the computer. “I’m going to make sure no one can deactivate Des remotely.”
Roger was now sitting up on the ground, his arms resting on his knees as his head hung low. His hair stuck out in different directions. He was obviously angry, but also defeated. There was no reason to put up any more fight.
“You think that’s a good idea?”
“I think it’s a safe one for Des.”
“You can do that?” Des asked.
“Considering I’m the one that created the protocol, yes.”
“Remote deactivation was your idea?” Des asked.
“Just a safety protocol, Des. Besides, it’s only to turn you off, not deactivate you entirely.” She punched a few keys and then spun around in the desk chair. “Done,” she said.
“You’re going to get me into so much trouble,” Roger said. “What if Bracken finds out?”
“Then you will get yelled at,” Hazel said. “It’s not like he’s going to fire you. You’re the best robotics designer there is.”
Roger lifted an eyebrow. “You haven’t so much as said good morning to me over the past two years and now you’re complimenting my work?”
“Look at him!” Hazel said. Hazel stared into Des’ eyes and let out a deep breath. “He’s perfect.”
“Wait,” Des said. “I thought you said you created me.”
“I did,” Hazel answered. “You as in your consciousness.”
“But you made my body?” Des asked, looking down at Roger.
He now got to his knees and then pushed himself into a standing position. “Yeah. Took three tries before I came up with you, but here you are.”
“But I failed the tests.”
“Not because of me,” Roger said, looking at Hazel. He rubbed his throat and coughed as if something was stuck there and he couldn’t get it out.
“It was nobody’s fault,” Hazel said. “If anything it was Bracken’s fault. He pushed you into an impossible situation. He wanted you to do something that no one else would have done. In fact, I think you performed admirably despite the end result.”
“Regardless, it was a failure in Bracken’s eyes,” Roger said. “And he wants you gone.”
“So, fake the report,” Des said. “Like Hazel said.”
“Then what, you’re just going to hang out in Hazel’s office?” Roger shook his head. “If you haven’t noticed, there are cameras all over this compound.”
“We’ve been recorded this whole time?” Des asked. He felt a surge of worry—the same feeling he hoped he wouldn’t have to get used to.
“Yes, but they are only there for records’ sake,” Roger said. “Most likely no one is watching them right now.”
“What about audio?” Des asked.
Roger shook his head. “Just video.”
All of them stood together for a long moment, each one thinking his or her own thoughts on the matter. Finally, Roger spoke up.
“If I’m going to fake the reports then we need to fake it on camera too.”
“What do you mean?” Hazel asked.
“We need to get you on a gurney and pretend to deactivate you.”
Des stared at him. He tried to detect any abnormalities in his behavior, but nothing showed up. As far as he could tell, Roger was being honest and he wanted to help. He turned his head to look at Hazel and she nodded, affirming that it was the right thing to do.
Des looked at the floor, knowing that he had no choice. “Fine,” he said. “Kill me.”
8
Roger wheeled Des on the gurney like one would a dead body through a morgue. A white sheet (actually it was more like a cream-colored curtain from a grimy window in the robotics lab) covered the robot from head to toe. Hazel followed closely behind, trying not to look up at the corners where the cameras seemed to follow their every move.
“Just act natural,” Roger said out of the corner of his mouth as they were about to leave the robotics lab.
Act natural. Act natural. She said this over and over in her mind as they walked calmly out of the lab and into the hallway. The guard gave her a nasty look but she ignored him. Part of her wondered if he could hear everything that had gone on in the lab. She figured that he hadn’t called anyone to the lab since Roger had been the one to let her in. Better to stay out of it than have to fill out reports.
“Disposal actually isn’t very far from your office,” Roger said, a few minutes into their walk through the compound.
“And there’s no camera down my hallway,” she said.
“Really? I’ve never noticed.”
“They basically put me in maintenance,” she said. “I’m five feet away from a broom closet.”
“I think I would value the privacy,” he said. “You’re lucky you don’t have a whole team that annoys you constantly. I was given a team to get more work done, but with all the questions I have to answer I can never get any work done.”
Hazel was perfectly happy with her small space to work. Rarely was she bothered so long as she accomplished what she needed to do. Her office was in the corner of nowhere and on some days the only human interaction she might have would be with the janitor that was coming in for a night of scrubbing and cleaning and rummaging through drawers of top secret information. On more than one occasion, Hazel had found her office cleaned up nice and tidy only to find that some of her folders had been looked through and placed back where she hadn’t left them.
According to the name tag, his name was Phil, and Hazel saw him every evening as he gathered his cleaning supplies. He always smiled and nodded at her as the two of them crossed paths. They had only ever spoken to each other for a few minutes.
“Oh no!” Hazel said, stopping in the middle of the hallway.
Roger slowed the gurney to a stop and looked behind him. “What’s wrong?”
“What time is it?” Hazel asked.
Roger looked down at his watch. “About six. Why?”
Hazel swore. “Phil. The janitor. He’ll be next to my office.”
Roger shrugged. “
So.”
“So, don’t you think he might get suspicious?”
“He’s a janitor in a the research sector of the military compound,” Roger said. “You don’t think he sees strange things from time to time?”
“It looks like we’re rolling a dead body into my office, Roger. It might be just enough for him to report something.”
Roger rubbed his throat and winced when he swallowed. “We’ll just have to take that chance. I don’t know your friend, Phil, but I doubt he’s going to report anything.” He turned back around and started rolling the gurney forward.
Hazel wasn’t so sure, but she followed close behind anyway. Though they moved quickly, her feet felt heavy and slow, her arms were like iron as they dropped to her sides. Nervousness crept through her body like a fast-moving virus that threatened to immobilize her.
The dark gray hallways seemed to go on forever too, and she wondered why there was never any thought into making the compound seem more like a friendly place. Instead it carried a sense of gloom around every corner, almost like the city streets of Mainland itself. There were no plants to give it life, no pieces of art for any worker to take a moment and stare. This place was all about functionality and to deviate from a task was to waste time. These halls were meant only for getting from one place to the other. Phil and his coworkers kept it clean and spotless, but none of them could scrub away the feeling of despondency.
They turned another corner and Hazel could see her office at the other end of the hallway. They were out of range of any security camera, but her worst fears were realized when she saw Phil unlocking his closet. Just like clockwork.
He looked up when he heard the sound of wheels squeaking toward him. Hazel tried not to look him in the eyes as they got closer, but it was impossible when Phil simply stood in the middle of the hallway, staring, smiling, doing everything he possibly could to make the situation worse.
Prototype D (Prototype D Series Book 1) Page 7
