Android X: The Complete Series

Home > Other > Android X: The Complete Series > Page 1
Android X: The Complete Series Page 1

by Michael La Ronn




  Android X

  The Complete Series (Books 1-3)

  Michael La Ronn

  Copyright 2015 © Michael La Ronn. All rights reserved. Published by Ursabrand Media.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Reproduction of this work in whole or in part in any manner without express written consent is prohibited.

  Cover Design by Dane Low (www.ebooklaunch.com)

  If you want to be notified when Michael La Ronn’s next novel is released and get other cool stuff, please sign up for his mailing list by visiting: http://bit.ly/1r6kNTG Your email address will never be shared and you can unsubscribe at any time.

  ANDROID PARADOX

  Chapter 1

  “X, are you going to say anything, or are you going to sit there and stare out the window?”

  X sat in the cockpit of the plane as it eased over the Caribbean Sea. He had been processing the conversation and heard every word, but at the same time, he was thinking of dead bodies and the mission ahead.

  His partner, Shortcut, elbowed him from the pilot’s seat. “I hate it when you do that. Sometimes you’re too human for me.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I still can’t get over how cool your emotional program is.”

  X continued his silence, shifting in his leather seat. He got that twitching feeling that swept over him at the beginning of missions like these—that feeling when he’d have to kill. His chips crunched a million potential scenarios as he loosened his black tie and set it on the dashboard. He ran one hand across his bald head and stroked his goatee with the other, a move he had observed from the commander of the android squad—a pensive gesture.

  Shortcut coughed. “I can’t ever get used to the dry air in these ships. It just sticks in your throat, like an itch you can’t scratch.” He adjusted his cap, and his left iris lit up as data streamed across his contact lens. He wore a white button-up shirt loosely tucked into blue jeans. He was skinny and his cheeks were covered with brown freckles. “I’ve got a weird feeling about this mission. Maybe it’s because I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “Yeah,” Shortcut said, yawning. “You androids don’t have to sleep. Don’t remind me.”

  The dashboard beeped as they approached their destination. A four-dimensional map of an island appeared, blinking and rotating. A human face appeared in a square at the top left of the screen—a wizened, tanned face with a flat nose, green eyes, and a stern air. The man wore a military cap and a blue uniform with a golden pin of a winged Earth on his chest.

  X and Shortcut nodded and said, “Fahrens, sir.”

  “Brockway is still on the island. We’ve got ships around the perimeter. The mission is still a go.”

  “We just arrived,” Shortcut said. “We’re just waiting for your orders.”

  “Your mission is to kill,” Fahrens said, looking at X. “We need the black box.”

  “Can you tell us exactly what happened again?” Shortcut asked.

  “Two days ago, Richard Brockway, an android soldier in the United Earth Alliance, was on patrol in a shopping mall. We don’t know why, but he went berserk and started a massacre. He unloaded his ammunition, killing one hundred people without wasting a single bullet. Then he bludgeoned twenty people to death with a steel pipe before authorities arrived. He evaded the police, and he escaped the city by boat. He was last seen in Aruba before his black box was disconnected. Shortly after that, the entire island disconnected from the grid.”

  “An android has never gone that berserk,” Shortcut said. “Not since the singularity of 2199.”

  Fahrens kept his face blank. “That’s why we need the black box to figure out what went wrong. The Council needs to know if we’re dealing with an irregularity or something more serious.” He paused when he saw X staring out the window. “You’re awfully quiet, X.”

  X unclicked the nylon seatbelt across his shoulders and stood up. He adjusted one of his wrists, sliding a ring of skin counterclockwise; it glowed as a gun inside his wrist warmed up, giving off waves of heat. “I just don’t understand why he did it.”

  “I know Brockway was an acquaintance of yours,” Fahrens said. “I wouldn’t have sent you, but we’re short on agents. The rest of the squad is cleaning up Brockway’s massacre. We’re not going to be able to keep this contained for very long. When the public finds out, we’ll need to have answers.”

  X nodded. “Brockway broke the UEA laws. Whenever an android kills a human without justification, he must die.”

  “Good luck, you two,” Fahrens said. He disconnected and the screen went dark, replaced by the image of the island. The navigation panel beeped again.

  Shortcut stood up and stretched. “We’re here.”

  They walked down a long corridor to the back of the plane.

  X pumped his fists several times, feeling his fingernails dig into his skin. He sensed Shortcut’s breath behind him—that quick, telltale gasp that signaled that a question was coming.

  “It’s a double standard, don’t you think?” Shortcut asked.

  “What?”

  “What Brockway did. We’re going to destroy him for creating so much bloodshed, but if I killed you now, I’d only get a few years in jail.”

  “And no connection to the grid,” X said. “For a human, that’s a fate worse than death.”

  Shortcut rubbed the back of his head and grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re right. I’m probably irritating you with my questions.”

  Shortcut did ask a lot of questions. Maybe it was because he was in the presence of an android, and humans always felt the need to talk more around them. Probably to fill the space of androids calculating their words a million times per second. But Shortcut was new to the UEA, and they’d only been working together for a few months.

  Shortcut was his human assistant. He was X’s engineer; he fixed him and gave him upgrades. He also provided backup and tech support while on missions. X was the muscle, but Shortcut made the muscling possible. He always staked out locations ahead of missions and identified any problems ahead of time so that X could calculate how to get around them. Since Shortcut was a human, he could sneak into places undetected; X had the unmistakable signal of an android, and even though the UEA scrambled his signal every few hours, it was no use when he was up against another android.

  Shortcut had been shy when they first met, but once he had warmed up to X, he never shut up. X didn’t mind—he filtered him out and answered the questions that mattered.

  X grabbed a wetsuit off the wall and squeezed into it. The suit hugged his body and squeaked as he stretched his arms and legs. He detected the smell of fresh rubber, and Shortcut scrunched up his nose as the scent reached him. Then he strapped on a parachute. He walked over to a door in the wall with a touch panel in front. He placed his hand on it, and the door opened, revealing an arsenal of weapons—guns, knives, and brass knuckles. He grabbed one of each and placed them on his utility belt.

  Shortcut jumped into a sliding chair in the middle of the room and used his contact lens to create a holographic digital screen in front of him. He manipulated it with his fingers, making the island grow bigger with a twist of his wrist. He winked, and the lights shut off, the freckles on his face glowing like luminescent specks.

  “Hard to imagine why he’d pick a tourist trap like Aruba,” he said. He cocked his head, and the capital city blinked on the western side of the island. “Brockway’s probably in Oranjestad.” He touched th
e capital with two fingers, flipped it upward and zoomed in on a beach just south of the city.

  “I sent mini-drones ahead. They planted a change of clothes beneath a tree on the beach here. It’ll help you blend in with the locals. Considering that you’re also black, you shouldn’t have any problems staying off the radar for a while.”

  “Got it. Thanks for the tip.”

  “We won’t be able to communicate, since the island isn’t connected to the grid. If we try to talk to each other, it’ll send a signal to Brockway and he’ll know you’re there. So you’re on your own, buddy.”

  X pressed a button on the wall, and the back of the plane opened up, exposing the sky. “Nothing new.”

  He jumped and flew down to meet the cool blue of the Caribbean. He tunneled through the air, held out his hands and bent his knees as he entered free fall, the cold air whipping against his body as he rotated in the direction of the island. The air entered his mouth, and though he couldn’t actually taste it, he sensed traces of ozone as his body created friction in the air.

  The water sparkled below, and the clouds formed shadow lakes on the surface. He surveyed the waves. Even though he was ten thousand feet in the air, he saw the tiny shapes of fish swimming below the surface, and the sunken, shriveled silhouettes of coral reefs below them.

  Nothing dangerous. No sharks. X disliked sharks. They could turn a mission like this into hell.

  He turned and edged himself into an arc. He entered a cloud and fell through an expansive flood of white. When he exited, Aruba appeared, orange and brown. An interactive grid overlaid his vision, first a sequence of zeroes and ones, then a three-dimensional landscape with the mission specs laid across it. In a split second, avatars and names of important places appeared on the virtual landscape. On the far side of the city near the coast was a blinking orange dot.

  The port—Brockway’s last known location.

  With a hand signal, X deployed his parachute, and it ballooned in a transparent bloom above him. The fabric took the color of the sky, special UEA technology that made him harder to spot.

  The parachute had a propeller attached to it, and X activated it with a lever, steering himself toward the coast. As he neared the city, he noted the street architecture and stored it in his memory for future knowledge. In a single glance, he knew the entire layout of the city and the population density. He calculated a route to the port: several miles of road past the airport, into the south side of the city, through the skewed streets that led to the docks.

  He hit the water and went under. A school of fish darted away as he sank. He didn’t need to breathe; instead, he pulled down the parachute as it landed in the water, cut the straps and dove down toward the ocean floor. He grabbed a rock and placed it on top of the chute. The material flapped in the ocean current, taking on the colors of the reef as it wavered in the water.

  He swam up in perfect form and flawless precision, each stroke getting him the farthest distance possible. He stopped just below the surface, stuck out his head, and waited for several minutes, watching for activity on the island. If Brockway had spotted him, there would be speedboats on their way to meet him by now.

  Nothing. He swam as fast as he could for the beach. The waves slammed into him, but he kept a straight line, not stopping until he reached the coast.

  He emerged in a shallow bay and climbed onto a white beach. He kicked off his fins and his feet dug into the soft sand. The air was salty with a tinge of brine, and seagulls fanned out over him, cawing on their way to the port. He scanned the area—no people. Just a gnarled divi divi tree a few paces away, its unruly branches creaking quietly in the breeze. An orange dot blinked over the tree with Shortcut’s smiling face just below it.

  He ran to the dot and dug several feet into the sand. He pulled out a leather knapsack; inside was a Hawaiian shirt with parrots all over it, khaki shorts, sandals, a gold chain, and a pair of black sunglasses. There was also a letter in an encrypted language. X scanned it and the code rearranged itself into a sentence: BE SURE TO TAKE PICTURES. I HEAR THE PLACE IS BEAUTIFUL!

  X shook his head as he changed clothes. Shortcut was always inserting humor when it wasn’t appropriate to do so. It made for interesting missions, at least.

  The Hawaiian shirt felt light and non-existent compared to the thick wetsuit. His gold chain was warm and raised the temperature on his chest. The sunglasses were stylish but extraneous—his vision was not affected by changes in light. But he put them on because they would help him blend in.

  He brushed sand off his shoulder and started for the road.

  Why weren’t there any people? He scanned the area as he walked, but saw no one. He came to a parking lot with a fleet of flying Jeeps, probably for a tour group. With still no one in sight, he climbed into one of the Jeeps and commandeered it. The Jeep purred quietly as he drove down the coastal highway, deeper into enemy territory.

  He abandoned the Jeep at a gas station just outside the city limits. The station was closed and the lights off. A sign in the window said: CLOSED UNTIL THE CRAZY ANDROID LEAVES.

  He started into town, entering via an alley of multi-colored Dutch-style houses. The houses went on for miles, a rainbow of color against the clear blue sky. The windows on every home were shuttered and boarded up as if there was a hurricane approaching. The only sound was the breeze and the crunch of his sandals on the dusty street.

  X measured the temperature of the buildings with a sweep of his head. There were people inside the houses, and from the heat signals, he assumed they were at the windows, watching him.

  His instinct chip buzzed. An algorithm, calculating everything he observed, told him that the chance of a dangerous encounter was one hundred percent.

  There was nowhere to go but up. He jumped onto a crate and climbed into the grilled terrace of a window as two black men with machine guns emerged from an alley and passed underneath him.

  “No sign, no nada,” one of the men said. “I’m tired of scouring dis city up and down for nothing.”

  “That android’s payin’ us big bucks, though.”

  X heard a sound from the window behind him. A little boy with nappy hair and gaps between his teeth looked out at him. X put his finger to his lips, and the boy’s eyes widened.

  The men disappeared around the corner.

  X jumped down and landed quietly. He had two options: he could grab these men and interrogate them about Brockway’s whereabouts, or he could let them go. The former was too risky. No, it was better to let them go—for now.

  “Pssst!” said a voice. It was the boy. He leaned out of a faded wooden door, grinning at him.

  X waved at him, and then started to walk away.

  “Are you an android?”

  “No.”

  “You gotta be an android. No way you’d be out on the street otherwise.”

  “I’m trying to get to the port.”

  His instinct chip buzzed again. Now he was in trouble. The men had doubled back and were heading his way. They had probably heard the boy’s voice.

  He had no choice. He dove into the house, knocking the boy down, and shut the door behind him as quietly as he could.

  He peeked through the window as the men passed.

  “Thought I heard something. You?”

  “Nah. Probably some family havin’ an argument. I’d be mad if I was locked up, too.”

  X waited until they were several blocks away before moving. His brown eyes glowed like fire in the darkness as he scanned the surroundings for danger.

  The little boy was lying on the ground, looking up at him in wonder. He wore a t-shirt with a running robot on it.

  “You are an android!”

  He saw two more pairs of eyes in the darkness—a mother and a father.

  The boy grabbed X’s hands. “You’ve got to save us.”

  Chapter 2

  Shortcut sat in the cockpit and rested his head against the leather seat. The plane changed direction, flying in circles around t
he ocean. He had time to waste until X needed to be picked up.

  A face appeared on the dashboard—a plump man with a chubby face and a mustache. He had greasy brown hair that looked as if it hadn’t been combed in days, and he wore a red sweater vest and a tie with tabby cats painted on it.

  “Hey, Shortcut.”

  Shortcut sighed and put his hands below the dashboard, secretly flipping the man off. “I’m on a mission.”

  “That’s no way to talk to your new boss,” Crandall said. “What did Fahrens tell you? I missed the call.”

  “Obviously,” Shortcut said.

  “What’s the report? Did you catch him yet?

  “We just got here.”

  “You have nothing to report?”

  “Jesus, did you hear what I said? I’ll be able to give you more information when I’m done.”

  “All right. But we need to talk about your development plan for the year. I’ve got some feedback for you.”

  Every cell in Shortcut’s body roiled with disgust. “Actually, uh, oh crap! There’s a plane, Crandall, and it’s coming toward me. I’ll have to call you back.”

  “Wait—”

  Click. Shortcut disconnected the video link and took it offline.

  I can’t stand that guy.

  He and Crandall had worked together as engineers shortly after college. Crandall had gotten promoted to manager just a few days ago, and he wouldn’t let Shortcut forget it.

  Shortcut had applied for the job too. Android Engineering Manager. A modest promotion with a decent salary increase. He had done well in the interview, and thought that Fahrens would consider him for the job. He had woken up the next day with a feeling that told him something good was going to happen, and had gone through the day jolly and laughing and smiling more than normal. He was waiting for the good thing to happen, and his gut had never been wrong before.

 

‹ Prev