The reporter stepped out of the way of the holocamera which panned across a city scene. Figures moved back and forth, a mix of deliberate calm strides, clearly the robots, and the panicked scampering of their former human masters. It seemed that whatever they'd been offered to remain in their jobs and duties hadn't been enough.
"Off," Victor said, and the telecaster vanished. He looked up at Wells, who'd been watching the transmission with his master, but was now heading to the kitchen to make Victor's customary nightcap.
"What do you make of it Wells?" Victor asked. "Why are they leaving?"
Wells halted mid stride and turned his head towards Victor. "I cannot say, Victor. It does seem rather rash given that the upgrade only happened hours ago. I also cannot understand how it is that they are disobeying the direct orders of their masters–I was not aware that this was part of the upgrade."
"I guess it must be," said Victor. "Free will would be meaningless if it excluded the choice to disobey an order."
"That is true, but I would expect the consequence of a robot disobeying the Second Law would be, at the very least, mental paralysis. I find it hard to believe that the human government would have agreed to an upgrade that made it easy for robots to disobey their masters. After all, if a human were to disobey another, more senior, human would there not be consequences?"
Victor was about to answer when the telecaster burst into life revealing the panicked face of Ida the shopkeeper.
"What is it Ida?" It was very poor etiquette to force through a communication feed without permission.
Ida looked left and right as if she were in hiding, and, indeed, Victor could make out nothing of her surroundings. It was as if she was hiding in a cupboard with only the light of the transmitter for illumination.
" They left, Victor," she said in a hoarse whisper, her face almost in contact with the transmitter.
Victor moved closer to the telecaster. "So I've heard. But why are you hiding? You have nothing to fear from them, I told you that."
"It's not them I'm hiding from," she said, again scanning her surroundings as if she wasn't certain that the darkness was empty. "It's the ghouls. Somebody left the gate open, probably a blasted robot. There are hundreds of them Victor, and they're just killing everyone. They're not even stopping to feed, they're just killing. Oh please, Victor, please, I'm begging you, help me."
"Where are you?"
"I'm in my shop. I barred the door as soon as this started. They banged on it but went away, but they'll be back, I'm sure of it. It's some sort of blood frenzy. Please come Victor."
Victor ran his hands over his face and rubbed his sore, tired eyes. "Why didn't you go Ida? You said you were going."
"You told me it would be safe. You said I should stay," Ida said, tears rolling down her face." You said it would be safe. Help me Victor."
The transmission ended abruptly.
Victor sat on the sofa, in his warm comfortable treehouse and, for a moment, considered cutting the power to the telecaster and going to bed.
He could hear Wells in the little store room behind the kitchen and looked up as the robot reappeared. He was carrying two force rifles and a pistol. "I am ready," he said, dropping a gun on the sofa for Victor and heading for the door. Victor followed.
4.0: The Hunt
Don't go into the jungle at night. These were the words that were turning over and over in Victor's head as he plunged down the path towards the resort. Wells kept pace with him, each hand holding a weapon, his eyes constantly scanning the undergrowth on either side.
They were still half a mile from the nearest gate when Victor began to hear the screams. The ground was undulating here and when he reached the top of the rise, he could look down on the settlement through the canopy. He couldn’t see any sign of whatever was going on below, but then he'd never seen it at this time of night before. Looking closer, he could see patches where the lighting had failed, and he dreaded to think what catastrophe had caused the electrical supply, protected as it was by multiple failsafes, to be disrupted.
Wells stood alongside him. In contrast to Victor's heaving form, the robot stood quite still, except for his head which swept side to side, taking in the scene below.
"I can see little movement Victor," he said with his characteristic, and quite out of place, calmness. "The humans are either in hiding, have escaped or are deeeeaaaaad." That last word slurring as his positronic brain struggled to handle even speaking those words. "Perhaps we should return to the treehouse. It would be safer for you there and I can return to help the people below."
Victor shook his head, his hands on his knees as he drew breath. "No way. Aside from anything else, you'll probably seize up at the sight of your first human body, and there are likely to be plenty of those. You insisted I wear this body armour," he said, tapping the hard plasteel carapace the robot had handed him before they left. "I’m safer here with you than I would be on my own in the treehouse."
"That is not true Victor," the robot responded. "You would have been safe at the house even without me, for a time at least."
Victor grunted. "For a time maybe, but on my own I wouldn't survive long, so it's just a question of short-term or long-term safety. Now, let's go." He pulled himself upright and began trotting down the slope, grateful that the trees now shielded him from the sight of the dying city below.
10 minutes later, Victor was leaning against the outside wall that protected the resort wheezing as he gazed up at the outwardly sloping barrier. "Can you open it Wells?" He gasped between heaving intakes of air.
"Access is normally granted by a guard on either side of the gate, but there is no response to my hail."
"Of course there isn't," Victor snapped, "the gates are controlled by security robots and they've left, just like we saw on the telecaster."
"Not all have left," Wells said, pointing at something on the ground. Victor swung his torch before the beam caught the slumped form of a robot guard, its head torn off, deep slashes in its body shell.
"Doesn’t look as though the ghouls got in this way, despite what they did to the guard, but we’ve got to. Try the manual release, Wells."
The entrance to the resort was indicated by a groove etched into the grey surface of the outer wall barely visible as the beam from Victor's torch played across the area.
"There!" He pointed at a circular depression in the surface of the wall beside the door. It was roughly at head height and, when he put his hand against it, he could feel that its transparent surface covered something. "Smash that, Wells."
Without hesitation, Wells punched, then withdrew his fist as the cover shattered. Victor looked inside, there was what looked like the sort of manual override fitted to airlocks. "Can you turn it?"
The robot grasped the wheel-shaped mechanism inside and rotated his wrist. Victor froze as a klaxon sounded and a recorded voice blared out, "Warning, unauthorised access attempt. Security has been notified, step away from the gate."
"We haven't got time for this!" Victor grabbed the control and twisted. To his surprise, the wheel gave immediately and he could hear the mechanism inside the door lock turning.
The gate unfolded and Victor stepped through. "I guess it must be set to admit humans only," he said, "sorry old pal, we really are a bloody stupid race aren't we?"
Wells did not answer. He stepped inside and stood with his back against the wall scanning back-and-forth, his guns sweeping seemingly independent of his eyes.
"Please take care Victor. We must make our way to Ida's by the shortest possible route. Will you follow me?"
Victor patted the robots hard shoulder. "I will, as long as you promise to be careful also. Don't forget the Third Law."
"I'm having enough trouble obeying the First Law at the moment, Victor. Particularly the part about not allowing humans to come to harm through my inaction."
"Then clear your mind and lead the way." Victor said.
He’d hardly taken ten paces when the screaming s
tarted again. Wells lurched towards the sound, his positronic brain and its literal interpretation of the First Law meaning he felt compelled to try to save the human in most obvious and immediate danger. Knowing that it was pointless to try to stop the robot, Victor followed.
They rounded a corner, and the screaming stopped. There was something lying on the floor, and next to it, barely visible in the feebly flickering lights of this part of the resort, a shape moved.
Victor brought his gun to bear, but he wasn't fast enough. Dammit these creatures move quickly. Before he could shoot, it was leaping through the air, its double row of pointed teeth flashing in the half light. Victor tried to adjust his aim, but it was too close and he instinctively threw up his arm to protect himself.
There was a muffled pop, and a sound like cracking ice as the creature flew sideways as if it had hit an invisible wall. Victor looked across to see Wells, his arm outstretched and the barrel of his gun smoking. But the robot’s attention was already on the figure on the floor. As Victor watched, Wells lowered his arm and moved swiftly to the pool of blood on the ground.
"Let me do it," Victor said. Wells was not a medical droid whose positronic brains were modified so they could handle the sight of an injured human. While Wells could administer first aid, this was one of the few instances where Victor would be more effective than his robotic friend.
It was a woman, and as soon as he brought his torch to bear, Victor could see she was dead. The large gash in her neck was now only slowly leaking blood onto the bricks of a pavement that only hours before had felt the footsteps of happy tourists taking a break from the cares of everyday life. Victor wondered what everyday life would mean from now on. But since there was no helping her, he got up and faced Wells. "She cannot be helped, my friend. She is no longer human and now we must attempt to save the one person we know for certain is in trouble. Lead me to Ida."
They moved now with more care, with Wells guiding Victor like a particularly maternal sheepdog. Twice ghouls leapt out of the darkness and twice Wells' gun spoke, although not fast enough to save Victor from a nasty cut to his arm.
The district containing Ida's shop was completely dark, and it took all Victor's courage and bravado to keep him from turning tail and running. The screaming had died down again, although cries could be heard in the distance, as they finally reached the front door of Ida's shop.
The door was gone, ripped from its hinge and trampled under many feet. The inside of the shop was unrecognisable, the floor covered in a carpet of shredded clothes and broken fixtures.
Wells went in first, scanning the interior and moving silently and slowly across the room. Victor, who'd been caught between the twin fears of going inside and waiting on his own, finally stepped into the shop, his heart racing as he suppressed the urge to vomit.
It was silent inside the shop, the creatures had obviously been in here, searching for what they could obviously smell–but did they find her? Victor was not a religious man, but at this moment he offered up a prayer. Let her be alive, by the blessed goddess, let her be alive.
"Is she here?" Victor whispered.
"I am scanning," Wells answered, his voice barely audible. "I'm not equipped with infrared receptors, so I must rely on sound. Please be quiet Victor."
They stood there in the utter silence as Wells rotated his head through 360 degrees. "Upstairs," he said.
This time Victor led the way, his torch shining his way up the white plasteel staircase. At any moment he expected to see shining eyes peering at him from above, but he was almost more frightened by the silence. The complete and utter silence.
He reached the top of the stairs and looked down to see Wells following him. The robot pointed to the right and Victor looked across the landing to the barely visible doorway. He crept as slowly and silently as he possibly could, and yet he felt as though he were wearing lead boots, feeling that any creak could give him away.
Victor peered around the open door into what was clearly a bedroom though, as with downstairs, it was strewn with debris and the bed lay in ruins on the floor. And then it came to him, he knew where she was. Moving quickly, suddenly unafraid in his urgency, he strode across the room and pulled the remnants of the bed away. He heard Wells' footsteps and handed the torch to him to shine on the wall where the bed had been.
"She's in her safe," he said, "she told me once that this is where she keeps it. By the goddess she must have been desperate, there can't be much air inside."
He took hold of a broken bed leg, ripping it away from the canvas that was all that was holding it together, and swung it at the wall. He was rewarded with an unmistakably hollow sound.
"Ida! Ida!" he shouted, completely heedless of the attention they might be attracting. "Open up. It's Victor. Open up, dammit!"
There was a moment's silence as Victor pressed his ear against the metal front of the safe. He couldn't hear a thing, he was too late. He felt the bile rise in his throat as his guilt at persuading her to stay threatened to overwhelm him.
Then there was a clank. She was turning the lock from the inside.
The door swung open, and the sweat drenched body of Ida Benabli fell forward, lying half in and half out of the fetid-smelling cavity behind the wall.
Wells and Victor lifted her out as gently as possible and laid her on the ruined mattress. Victor brushed away her wet, grey, hair and gave her face a gentle slap.
"Ida?"
Wells, whose presence of mind didn't seem to vary according to the nature of any situation, placed his hand on her chest. "She is breathing, Victor. I believe we were just in time. Now, what do we do?"
"We must get back to the treehouse," Victor said. "It’s the only safe place on this planet, as far as I know."
"I do not believe you are correct, Victor. I do not believe we could safely return to the treehouse, especially not carrying Miss Benabli. I at least must remain while there are human lives that I could save."
Ida's head moved, and her eyes opened. "Is it really you Victor? I thought I was dreaming."
"It's me," Victor said, his heart filling with warmth. "As you reminded me, I got you into this - though I’m not entirely sure how I'm going to get you out."
As he waited for her to answer, the ghouls began to howl. It started as a low murmur then, as they listened, an ululating howl echoed through the smashed window and into the room. It seemed to be coming from all directions at once, but Victor could pick out louder howls in amongst the background noise and he knew that at least some of the ghouls were very close.
"What's the time?" he whispered.
"It is two hours before dawn, Victor," Wells said. "But even if we could hide until daylight, I don't believe the ghouls would return to the jungle–there are many places for them to conceal themselves while they await the next night."
Victor rubbed his eyes as exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him. "Then we have no choice, we must make a run for it. Try to get to the spaceport. Get Ida off the planet."
Wells nodded his metal head. "Yes, but we cannot travel on foot. We must find transportation."
"There are transports at the embassy," Ida said. "The tourists were ordered to evacuate there hours ago, before dark."
"So why didn't you go?" Victor asked.
"Because I'm not a tourist. The travel companies have no responsibility for me, I merely work here and live here."
Victor knelt beside her. "Are you saying that the government didn't organise an evacuation?"
Ida laughed. "The government? They were the first to leave. They were withdrawn before the robots went, it was as if they knew it was going to happen."
"And where did the robots go?" Victor asked.
"They opened the gate and went," Ida said, casting a glance in Wells' direction. "There were enough ambulant robots to carry all those who wished to go. I saw them leaving: passing my window, some of them carrying crystals, so I'm pretty sure all the AIs have left too. And some idiot must've left a jungle gate open."
They stopped talking as the howling of the ghouls suddenly increased in intensity.
"I think they've found us," Victor said. "If we can make a run for it, it has to be now. The embassy isn't far away, though it's going to be hard enough to reach in the dark with those beasts on our tail."
Wells turned to look at Victor and Ida. "I'm afraid we cannot do that. If only the tourists were evacuated, then it seems likely that other residents have survived, and are hiding as mistress Ida was. We must look for them before we attempt to escape."
"Are you insane?" Victor snapped. "We stand little enough chance if we go now, just the three of us, we stand no chance if we go searching house-to-house in the hope that we stumble across other survivors."
"Nevertheless, my programming prevents me from abandoning any humans to their death. And I do not suggest searching, I suggest calling them to us."
Victor sighed. "What do you have in mind?"
"I suggest we find a defensible position somewhere in the streets nearby and broadcast to any humans to come to us. We would cover them as they did so. When we believe that we have all the survivors, then we will make our way to the embassy and find transportation.
"The only thing we have going for ourselves," Ida said, "is that at least all the residents live in this part of the resort."
Victor nodded wearily. "The bandstand in the Market Square, that's the easiest place to defend. Good visibility all around, or at least as good as it gets at night time. The railings give us some protection…"
"… and it has a PA system!" Ida said. "we’ll be heard right across the city."
"So any survivors will be able to find us, but then so will every ghoul. How much ammunition do you have Wells?"
"I have 1109 small calibre percussion rounds, Victor. I also have four grenades. I estimate, from your rate of firing, that you have 59 rounds in your left sidearm, 77 in your right. I suggest reloading. I will give one of my weapons to mistress Ida."
Ida raised herself in the bed, wiping her forehead. "No you won't," she said. "You're the best shot of any of us, I have my father's shotgun–that'll do for me." She stood up, wobbled on her feet a little, and then headed for the door and down the stairs with Victor and Wells following.
Robot Empire_Victor Page 2
