Earth Honor (Earthrise Book 8)

by Daniel Arenson

  "You're good at this." Marco nodded. "I've seen the change in you. You no longer have nightmares. You yell less. You poke me in the ribs less." He rubbed his side. "You're different now, Addy, in a good way. You're calmer, more focused, more at peace. This has been good for you. For us. I say we go back up there, cheat this one time, then complete our training. We're almost done, after all."

  She sighed and mussed his hair. "You really are a silly poet, you know that? And a dirty, rotten cheater."

  "I know."

  She flopped onto her back. "All right. But not yet. Let's spend one night here." She grabbed him, pulled him down beside her, and stared hungrily into his eyes. "I'm not done ravaging you yet."

  "Hmm." Marco nodded. "Yeah, I think I could stand to spend a few more hours in this spaceship with you."

  The next morning, they headed back up the mountain.

  They chanted for themselves. For each other. For their enemies. For all living beings.

  "May all living beings be safe and free from suffering. May all know peace. May all have ease of being."

  Their training continued.

  CHAPTER NINE

  "Why did you disable my pistol?" Lailani shoved her plate of food aside. "Answer me!"

  They sat in Dr. Schroder's dining room, deep within his underground complex. Several androids stood against the walls. Yet they were not nearly as realistic as Osiris, the android Lailani had met in the military, or as Mimori, the friendly schoolgirl. These androids seemed older, cruder. Their skin was rubbery, their faces ill fitting like masks that threatened to slip off. The synthetic skin hung loosely around the eyes, revealing their metal skulls. Wet tongues moved in their mouths, too red, too thick.

  As Lailani watched these creatures, she had the horrible feeling that these were actual faces, actual human skin peeled off from victims and placed onto the machines. The tongues looked like the severed tongues of animals. She shuddered and shoved that thought away. Nobody was that disturbed.

  The robots had placed a feast upon the table: roasted snakes, one of the few lifeforms that lived on this planet, their skin crispy and their eyes glassy in death like the eyes of fried fish. They were like smaller versions of the robots' eyes.

  "I did not disable your pistol, my dear," Schroder said. He sat across the table from her, candles lighting his face. "My beloved robots did. They're simply following their algorithms, which I coded long before I met you. We allow no working firearms in this complex. Every armed robot here, even the military ones—their weapons are disabled."

  Lailani was not pacified. "And why did you lock me in a room? Are you going to blame that on algorithms too?"

  Schroder slumped in his seat. "For that, I must apologize. Mimori was not to lock you in the smoking lounge. As soon as I learned, I placed Mimori in the basement." His eyes hardened. "She will remain there until she learns to behave. Sometimes I must discipline my toys. Sometimes they must suffer."

  Lailani peered at him, eyes narrowed. "I thought you said they have no emotions."

  For the span of a heartbeat, Schroder seemed speechless. Then he laughed. "Quite astute, quite astute! But come now. We shall not debate the true nature of suffering at the dinner table. Eat, my friend!" He lifted a roasted snake and bit. The skin crunched. "They are delectable."

  "Where is HOBBS?" Lailani said.

  The doctor slurped up a tail, chewed, and swallowed. He dabbed his lips with a napkin. "The poor fellow was badly damaged." He sighed. "He's an older model. One of my earliest efforts. I'm proud of the boy. Still a remarkable machine, and what spirit! I will save him, but it will take more time, at least a week of work."

  "A week!" Lailani leaped to her feet. "That long?"

  Schroder raised an eyebrow. "I have other work than simply repairing old robots, my dear. Important work."

  She stared at him, still not touching the food. Below the table, Epimetheus was reluctantly nibbling a roast snake. The poor pup seemed unhappy with the fare, but hungry enough to keep eating.

  "What kind of work?" Lailani said. "Why do you put hearts into your robots? Mimori said that's forbidden knowledge. Like Eve and her apple."

  Schroder blinked, then burst out laughing. "You misunderstood her, dear! Our friend Mimori did not mean the biblical Eve, feeding upon the forbidden fruit of knowledge. Eve was the name of my wife." Schroder sighed, and his voice softened. "Her heart now beats within Mimori's chest."

  Lailani grabbed a knife from the table. She held it out like a dagger. "What game are you playing here, Schroder? Are you some kind of butcher? Is this why they exiled you? I'm going to—"

  The robotic servants lunged toward her. Their glassy eyeballs peered through the holes in their loose, rubbery masks. They grabbed her with twisting fingers of many joints, wrenching her blade away. Epimetheus barked and tossed himself into the fray, biting the robots, his teeth clattering harmlessly against them.

  "Let go of me!" Lailani cried, floundering, kicking the air as they lifted her. "Schroder, damn it!"

  The engineer rose to his feet and raised his arms. "It's all right, friends! Let her be! She is right to be suspicious."

  The robots unceremoniously dumped Lailani back into her seat. She rubbed her sore arms.

  "You owe me some answers," Lailani said, glaring at Schroder. "No more bullshit. And if your robots attack me again, I'll summon the wrath of the HDF onto this planet."

  For an instant, fury filled Schroder's eyes. His fists clenched. His lips peeled back. But his moment of anger vanished. He nodded and sat back down.

  "Of course, my dear. Let me explain, please. There is no need for fighting. No need to call anyone over. My wife died of natural causes, I assure you. She fell ill at the tender age of forty-three. She died here on this planet." Schroder lowered his head and wiped a tear away. "I preserved her heart inside Mimori, my beloved android. Thus do I keep Eve's memory alive. As I told you, I build memobots. Robots to preserve the hearts of loved ones, to keep them still beating forever."

  Lailani grimaced. She looked at the rubbery-faced servants.

  Schroder laughed. "Oh, no, my dear, not them. They're merely heartless machines who tend to my table. Though they too have the capacity to contain a heart. DF3, open your chest cavity. Show her."

  One of the robotic servants stepped forth. His leathery face jiggled with each step, sliding around the metal skull. He swung open a door on his chest, revealing a cavity shaped like a human heart.

  "Someday, I dream to have a heart inside me," said the robot, thick tongue sloshing in his mouth. "It is what I pray for every day."

  Schroder nodded sadly. "They desire it, you see. I programmed them that way. To have a heart is their dearest wish." He sighed. "I used to sell my memobots all over Earth. Lost your beloved pet? Simply place Fluffy's heart into a robotic animal! Lost a beloved family member? You can choose from a variety of robots of all shapes and sizes, and they will keep your loved one's heart alive."

  Lailani narrowed her eyes. "People will pay for this? It seems so . . ."

  "Morbid?" Schroder said. "It does at first. Yet is it any more morbid than burial, letting the heart rot underground, letting the worms consume it? Is it any more morbid than cremation, letting the heart burn? Is it any more morbid than burial in space, letting the heart float forever in the vacuum, cold and frozen for all eternity? With memobots, the heart beats on. The heartbeat—the very basic indicator of life—preserved! Someday, when I'm dead, my heart will beat in a memobot too. My robots have instructions to preserve my heart, to implant it in one of their chests. I've not yet chosen the robot I will become."

  "I hope it will be me," said the serving robot with the rubbery face. "How I yearn for it!"

  Lailani shuddered. She had signed an organ donor card when joining the military—not that much was left to salvage from most dead soldiers—but to place a beating heart inside a robot? When human patients could use it? It seemed not just creepy. It seemed callous.

  She frowned. "What abou
t the battle-bots? Like HOBBS? Weren't they built for the military?"

  "They have the hearts of soldiers!" Schroder took another bite of snake. "When soldiers fall, sometimes their families wish to see their battle completed, their war won. They place the heart of their fallen warrior into a memobot. The young soldier's heart goes on to fight—to win! Truly the hearts of champions."

  Lailani placed her hand on her chest. She felt her heart beat behind her thin ribcage. She shuddered at the thought of her heart beating inside one of these machines. Did people truly even place the hearts of loved ones into the robotic burlesque bots? And Mimori—poor Mimori, docile and sexualized—with the heart of his wife?

  "In the warehouse, I passed by thousands of robots," Lailani said. "Do they all . . .?"

  "Oh no," Schroder said. "Most are like our friend DF3 here. Their chests are empty. I sell them empty, you see. Or used to, at least. I sold HOBBS empty as well, back when my business still operated on Earth. I don't know whose heart beats inside him, though I've been doing my best to save it." He sighed and looked around him. "I don't sell many memobots these days, only to the rare, discerning client. But they keep me company. They are my beloved pets. I am never lonely."

  Lailani bit her lip. "But don't you ever miss human companionship?"

  "Robots are better than humans," Schroder said. "Humans will hurt you, betray you. Robots are always loyal."

  Lailani thought back to her life back in the Philippines. She herself had few human companions. There were Marco and Addy, of course, but they lived on the other side of Earth. And Ben-Ari didn't even live on Earth anymore. Mostly Lailani just shared her life with Epimetheus.

  Humans will hurt you, betray you.

  She thought of how she had betrayed Elvis, slaying him. Perhaps Schroder was right. She looked back at him. Somebody had hurt him. Or he had hurt somebody. She dared not ask. HOBBS would know.

  Whatever sin Schroder committed, Lailani thought, he's helping me now. And surely his sin is no greater than mine.

  "I apologize, Dr. Schroder," Lailani said. "Thank you for your help." She lifted one of the snakes. "And your hospitality."

  She bit down deep. The skin crunched. The doctor smiled.

  * * * * *

  "Goodnight, Mistress!" Mimori said. The android smiled brightly, cheery as ever.

  "Goodnight, Mimori," Lailani said, smiling in return.

  The schoolgirl bowed her head and closed the door behind her. Again she locked Lailani in the smoking lounge, leaving her to spend the night on a divan.

  Lailani waited, ear pressed against the door. Once the android's footsteps faded into the distance, Lailani reached into her pocket. She pulled out the forks she had stolen from the dining room.

  She worked at the lock. She had grown up on the rough streets of Manila, a hungry orphan, scavenging and stealing to survive. She could handle a rusty, Victorian-era lock.

  The lock clicked.

  Lailani knelt by Epimetheus and hugged him.

  "I need to do this alone, Epi," she whispered, patting him. "Will you wait for me here?"

  The dog gave a huff of objection.

  "Guard our den, Epi," Lailani said. "I'll be back soon."

  Leaving the Doberman behind, she crept into the hallway. It stretched before her, paneled with hideous wallpaper. The entire underground complex was a mishmash of styles, each room and corridor decorated differently. This corridor gave Lailani the impression of some abandoned hotel. She half expected to see a pair of twins in the distance, inviting her to come play with them.

  She crept down the hallway.

  I need to find answers, she thought. I need to find HOBBS.

  In the distance rose strange sounds. Laughing babies. A titter, then a scream. The sound of muffled gunfire, perhaps a television set. Pattering. Clanking gears. The sounds were all dim; Lailani could barely hear them. Yet as she kept walking, she felt as if this entire underground complex was alive.

  She froze.

  A robot was walking ahead. Lailani inhaled sharply.

  Ugly fucker.

  The robot moved on six serrated legs like a spider. But it had a humanoid torso, an oval head, and blazing blue eyes. A guardian of these halls. Lailani pressed her back to the wall.

  The spider had not yet seen her. It clattered forward. Blades tipped its legs.

  Lailani's heart thudded. She dared not even breathe. That spider was the size of a cow. Any one of those blades could slice her in two.

  The spider took more steps forward. Its head was turning toward her.

  Lailani reached behind her back, felt around, and found a doorknob. She opened a door and retreated through the doorway.

  She found herself in shadows. She stood hidden, watching the hallway. When the mechanical spider walked just outside, she slunk deeper into the shadows. Her heart beat so powerfully she was sure it would give her away.

  The spider paused.

  Its head creaked, turning toward the open doorway.

  Fuck!

  Lailani retreated deeper into the darkness, heart pounding, sweat dripping. The spider gazed into the shadows.

  Please walk on. Please walk on.

  The mechanical spider turned away. It walked on down the hallway.

  Lailani breathed out in relief and wiped the sweat off her brow.

  She glanced around her, unable to see through the darkness. She drew her phone from her belt and switched on its flashlight mode. Where was she? Her beam of light pierced the shadows, and her eyes widened.

  Dolls.

  She was in a room with hundreds of Victorian-style dolls.

  They were robots, she realized. She could see the rivets and bolts. Thankfully, they were shut down for the night. Schroder obviously had an obsession with dolls; they filled the room, a collection that would not shame a museum. Perhaps Schroder had daughter on Earth who enjoyed them?

  "They give me the creeps," Lailani muttered, gazing at the porcelain faces, frilly dresses, and dead eyes.

  She walked through the chamber, moving between the dolls. They lay on the floor, sat on shelves, and hung from the ceiling. Their glass eyes followed Lailani, but they made no other movement. She paused by a doll that was roughly her size. The robot wore a purple gown heavy with ribbons, a frilly scarf, and a wide hat adorned with flowers. Lailani undressed the doll, then put on the gown and hat. They smelled of mothballs, and she sneezed.

  Thank God I'm tiny, she thought. Her friends had sometimes mocked her that she looked like a doll. Now it was finally coming in handy.

  She stepped back into the hallway, her gown rustling, her wide-brimmed hat pulled low. She carried the doll's matching purple purse. There wasn't much Lailani could do about her face—her olive complexion would not pass for porcelain—but thankfully the hat was wide enough to shadow her, and she pulled up the frilly scarf as a veil.

  She continued down the hallway.

  She had taken only ten steps when another arachnid robot emerged from around the corner.

  This time there were no doorways nearby for Lailani to slink through. She froze for a moment, then steeled herself and kept walking. Her Victorian gown rustled.

  The mechanical spider approached her. By God, it was massive. Its legs were the size of her, and guns gleamed on its back. It turned six swiveling camera lenses toward her.

  Lailani gave what she hoped was a convincing robot movement. Thank goodness for that evening on the HSS Marilyn she had spent practicing the robot dance.

  The spider's six eyes narrowed, scrutinizing her. Lailani kept walking, passing it by, struggling to calm the thudding of her heart.

  The spider emitted mechanical sounds, and Lailani cringed, expecting a hailstorm of bullets to tear through her. But the spider kept walking, leaving her behind.

  She released a shaky breath.

  Finally being doll-like pays off, she thought. I'll never wish to be tall like Addy again.

  At the end of the corridor, she found a shaft leading to a lower level
. She climbed down into a dingy, cluttered basement. Countless items filled the place, hanging from rafters: wrenches, hammers, gears, robot clothes wrapped in plastic, cables, and many robotic limbs, faces, and torsos. Several operational robots were here too. A robotic snake rose from the floor, gazed at Lailani with a single eye like a cyclops, then slithered away. A humanoid robot, so thin he looked like a metal skeleton, approached her, recognized her as a fellow machine, and moved aside, muttering about doll-bots belonging upstairs.

  "That's right, boys," Lailani whispered. "It is I, Laila-bot, one of your own."

  The basement was dark, but among the shelves and chests, Lailani found a flashlight, its beam more powerful than her phone. She walked deeper, moving between a hundred legs that hung from the ceiling. Mechanical mice moved across the floor, squeaking. A massive robotic gorilla loomed at her side, staring with shining eyes. Beyond the creature, a few plastic torsos hung from meat hooks on the wall. Hearts beat inside them, connected to tubes that ran up to the ceiling. Lailani cringed but kept walking.

  She paused.

  Bloody hell.

  Jars stood on a shelf ahead. Inside were brains.

  "This isn't a robotic workshop," she muttered. "It's Frankenstein's lab."

  Past the jars, she found what indeed looked like a Victorian laboratory. There was a bloodstained table topped with scalpels, saws, a rib spreader, and various vials and tubes. Old medical books were open between them.

  The results of these surgeries filled the room. A collection of lamps stood on a shelf, made from human skin and bones. The lampshades still had nipples, bellybuttons, and tattoos. Severed human hands stood on another shelf, mummified, arched and twisted with anguish, as if the victims had died trying to stave off assault. Shrunken heads hung on a wall, peering with glass eyes. There was an armchair embroidered with a hundred human faces, ripped off the skulls, the mouths and eyes stitched shut.

  These are all real. Real human remains. Nausea filled Lailani's belly. The robotic servants who served me dinner—their faces had been actual human faces, peeled off corpses.