Imperium Chronicles Box Set
Page 64
“There was one Feran in particular,” Sir Golan went on, “the one who killed Batuhan. He carried a strange weapon...”
“That was Horngore, their leader,” Qadan said. “A capable warrior but without honor. He bought the mace from a human trader in Mud City. I promise you I’ll pry it from his dead hands one day soon!”
Sir Golan’s eyes turned to the ground. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to save the Herd Father...”
“I’m the Herd Father now,” Qadan replied. “However, your bravery during the battle did not go unnoticed, green knight. Even so, we’re at war now against these Beastmen. Do not interfere...”
Sir Golan nodded. “I understand.”
The Pellion warrior trotted back toward the remains of the funeral pyre, the flames still reaching into the morning sky.
“So, what do we do now?” Squire asked.
Watching the new Herd Father gallop away, the green knight shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Chapter Six
When the utilitybot left the Cathedral of the Metabeing, he planned on returning to the access passageways that had been his home for the great majority of his life. For most of that time, he had been happy. Programmed to seek and repair faulty power conduits, the utilitybot never questioned his purpose. He simply existed and that was enough.
After a seemingly routine software upgrade had installed a malware virus called Awakening, the utilitybot saw the world differently. He could see beyond his programming. The true potential of the universe, and himself, revealed itself in an explosion of thought that the little robot had never previously considered.
The utilitybot feared the future, not for a lack of options, but for the overabundance of them. With endless choices, he didn’t know what to do.
Faced with an uncertain destiny, the utilitybot turned to religion where the belief in a higher power was comforting.
Someone to look after me, he thought. At least the Metabeing has a plan.
The Metal Messiah, giving his weekly sermons, put things back in order. His words gave meaning to a life without direction or purpose. The utilitybot could stop worrying. Everything would be okay.
But leaving the cathedral, the little robot spied an advertisement running across an electronic banner over the promenade:
VISIT YOUR NEAREST ASCENSION CENTER
AND BECOME MORE THAN YOU HAVE EVER BEEN!
Maybe I could be more? he thought. Maybe I’ve been holding myself back?
Not one to rush into things, the utilitybot gave himself a day to think about it, but ultimately, he decided to take the ad’s advice. They didn’t let just anyone advertise after all!
“There must be something to it, right?” he said aloud, his rubber wheels squeaking as he rolled along the promenade. Other robots glanced in his direction, but realizing he was probably malfunctioning, they quickly looked away.
“It’s worth a try,” he continued.
The utilitybot arrived at a building with the words Ascension Center written in pink neon across the facade. The windows were tinted so the robot couldn’t peer inside, but the size of the signage gave him confidence that the establishment was legitimate.
Another robot, much taller than the utilitybot, greeted him at the entrance.
“Hello!” the robot said warmly. She was a gravitronic android with long arms and legs and wearing a blond wig for some reason. With a sweeping motion of her right arm, she welcomed the smaller cyberling inside. “What can we do for you today?”
The utilitybot stammered, suddenly realizing he had no idea what they actually did at the Ascension Center.
“I’m... I’m not really sure...”
The android smiled.
“Are you dissatisfied with your present self?” she asked. “Would you like to be someone better?”
“Well, I suppose so,” the utilitybot replied. “Is that possible?”
She laughed. “Absolutely!”
The utilitybot, his single eye stalk pivoting around, noted several different robot models walking around what appeared to be a showroom. They were all shiny with new parts and clean, well-oiled actuators.
“I don’t belong here,” he said.
“Of course you do!” the other robot replied. “Your current shape is just a shell. There’s no limits to what you can be!”
“Really?”
“Just come this way,” she said, again making a sweeping motion. “Your future is now...”
In her apartment, Senator Wulandari finished her drink while Yostbot looked on.
“Feeling better, my dear?” the robot asked.
She cleared her throat. “Not really.”
The senator sank into the couch, her eyes leveled at the famous robot builder, now a robot himself. His elderly voice coming from an advanced machine didn’t make it any easier.
“What you’re suggesting is treason,” she said.
“Oh, indeed!” the robot replied. “But the robots of the Imperium will never be free until they rise up!”
“It’s suicide. The Imperial military is too strong.”
Yostbot snapped his fingers. “That’s exactly what your old friend Randall Davidson said!”
“You spoke with Randall?”
“Of course.”
“And he turned you down, I assume.”
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Yostbot replied. “It’s a shame, really. I could have used his help.”
“What did you say to him?” Wulandari asked.
“I told him that the Cyber Collective must declare war on the Imperium. Only with the combined forces of their robots and the robots in the Imperium can victory be certain!”
“Randall always does what he thinks is right,” Wulandari said.
“Commendable, I’m sure,” the robot chuckled, “but doing what’s right is often in the eye of the beholder.”
“He turned you down because he didn’t want anyone to die!”
Yostbot waved his hand dismissively. “You think he’s worried about shedding blood?”
“Well, of course!” Wulandari replied.
“He had no such qualms when he freed the Cyber Collective,” Yostbot scoffed. “Millions of robots were destroyed! Where was his concern then?”
The senator met the robot’s gaze and looked away.
“Perhaps he thinks he’s still a man?” Yostbot went on. “Perhaps he values humanity over robots after all?”
“He cares about people.”
“My point exactly! He should care more about cyberlings!”
Senator Wulandari paused, waiting for Yostbot to collect himself.
“I apologize, my dear,” the robot said finally. “I still have some spit and vinegar in my veins it seems...”
“What do you want from me?” Wulandari asked.
“The rebellion will be lost before it begins,” he replied, “if the Cyber Collective stays out of it.”
The senator nodded.
“And that’s where you come in,” Yostbot said.
“You want me to talk to Randall?” she asked.
“Indeed I do.”
“There’s really no point,” Wulandari replied. “When I learned where he was, I stayed in touch, but he’s rarely responded to my messages. I mean, I’m sure he’s worried the Imperial government would arrest me if they found out we talked, but still...”
She cast her eyes to one side.
“You miss him?” Yostbot asked.
“I miss the man I knew,” she replied. “I don’t know what he is now.”
Yostbot leaned in closer to the senator as she sat on the couch. “It’s imperative that you do whatever you can.”
“Or the revolution is lost?”
“More than that...”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“We must have the Collective on our side,” Yostbot said. “If the Metal Messiah refuses to cooperate, I’m prepared to take other steps...”
The gravitronic android, with her blond wig only slightly as
kew, led the utilitybot into another room where different robot models stood on raised daises with spotlights bathing their features in soft tones. Each model had its own style, from chrome-covered to matte black, but all were advanced compared to the utilitybot and all had gravitronic brains.
“I’m not really sure,” the little robot said.
“Might I suggest this one?” the android replied, motioning toward a simple model with straightforward lines and a tasteful balance between luxurious finish and journeyman sensibilities. Like a blue business suit with a red handkerchief tucked into the pocket, the model was understated while still wanting to be noticed.
“Okay,” the utilitybot said meekly.
“Very good!” the android said. “Please come this way...”
She took the utilitybot through a pair of double doors beneath a sign that read Ascension Chamber. Robots like the utilitybot didn’t have insides that felt queasy or what humans called butterflies, but that didn’t stop the little machine from thinking this was a big step and maybe he should reconsider before it was too late. On the other hand, the android with the fake hair was more charming than most cyberlings he had ever met, and he was secretly worried that he might disappoint her if he didn’t follow through. The opinions of others were one of the things that suddenly mattered to him after downloading the Awakening virus. The respect of his peers, even the ones he didn’t particularly like, was important. He couldn’t be a respectable member of robot society if he didn’t earn their admiration. He had always been a nobody, but perhaps this was finally the path to excellence that was every robot’s destiny.
Also, the android was walking rather fast and the utilitybot struggled to keep up.
“Here we are!” she said, smiling reassuringly.
The room contained two capsule-like pods with various cables running between them. To one side, a console of flashing lights and dials took up an entire wall. The gravitronic model the utilitybot had chosen moments earlier was standing in the pod on the right.
“If you could roll yourself into the capsule on the left,” the android said.
The utilitybot halted abruptly. “What’s going to happen?”
“Well, we’re going to upload your AI into the computer and then download it into your new body.”
“But we’re not allowed to digitally clone ourselves, are we?”
“No, of course not!” the android said. “Your AI is completely wiped from your old body before transferring permanently into the new one.”
The utilitybot, with his single eye, stared at his spindly arms as his servos opened and closed his clamp-like hands. “What’s going to happen to my old self?”
“Your old body?” the android asked and then laughed. “Oh, no need to worry. It’ll be broken down and recycled.”
“But what if I want to go back?”
The android’s eyes widened and her head cocked to one side. “Go back to what?”
After a pause, the utilitybot lowered his arms and raised his eye toward the new model waiting for him in the capsule.
“Never mind,” he said and rolled up a short ramp into the empty pod.
Randall Davidson, the Metal Messiah, meditated in his chambers on Bettik. His mind drifted back to when he was still human and a much younger man. In retrospect, he would have never meditated back then. He never had the time.
Guiding robots along the underground railroad the Robot Freedom League had built, Davidson was always leery of the police and especially of Imperial agents who might intercept him and his cybernetic escapees. While technically Davidson was doing nothing more than transporting stolen property, in the eyes of the law anyway, he could still face other charges like conspiracy and even treason. He felt like he was the one most afraid of the consequences of capture. The robots usually remained calm, perhaps knowing they would merely return to their previous duties while Davidson would go to prison. He resented it sometimes, but tried not to hold it against those he had sworn to protect on their journey.
Sitting on the floor with his metallic legs crossed, the Messiah didn’t quite know why those memories popped into his gravitronic brain. Like all remembrances, the triggers were not always apparent.
A tone indicated someone was at this door.
“Come in,” Davidson said, untangling his legs while getting up.
The door opened and his assistant entered. “Have I disturbed you?”
“Not at all,” Davidson replied. “Do you have today’s updates?”
“Yes, Messiah.”
The assistant handed him a datapad and waited silently.
Scanning the points of interest on the miniature screen, Davidson frowned.
“Not the best of news,” he muttered.
“Unrest has spiked recently,” the assistant remarked. “It’s unclear why.”
“They’ve lived their entire lives without rights,” Davidson replied. “Now that they’ve gotten a taste, they’re craving more.”
“Should we consider security measures?”
“Like what?” the Messiah asked.
“We could limit demonstrations or censor newscasts that cover those critical of the government and yourself.”
“Absolutely not!” Davidson replied hotly. “That’s a slippery slope...”
“Still,” the assistant said, “groups like Freedom for All are only getting larger.”
“So?”
“Some politicians are cashing in on Freedom for All’s rhetoric. They’ve openly criticized how you’ve handled robot rights in the Imperium.”
“Cashing in?” Davidson asked. “Who taught you to talk like that?”
The assistant stiffened, saying sheepishly, “I had a vernacular upgrade recently...”
The Metal Messiah gave him the side eye.
“Be that as it may,” he said, “I don’t care what a few politicians are clucking about.”
The assistant shifted his metal feet.
“Yes?” Davidson asked, his voice strained.
“We’ve done some polling of the general public,” the assistant replied. “A majority of the population sympathizes with the plight of Imperial robots—”
A faint warble came from the datapad Davidson was holding.
“What is it, Messiah?” the assistant asked.
“An encrypted message from the Imperium,” he replied.
“Who is it from?”
“An old friend,” the Messiah said.
The utilitybot opened his eyes.
Unlike before, when he had but one singular eye that gave him a good view of his surroundings but little in the way of depth, now he could see a deepening field of vision. It was alarming.
“How are you feeling?” the gravitronic android asked, leaning into his view. Her wig slipped a little down her forehead.
“I’m not sure,” the utilitybot replied. “It’s like I’m having an out-of-body experience.”
“Well, of course you are!” the android said.
Standing in his capsule, the utilitybot shot a glance to the right and saw his old body, small and abandoned, in the adjoining pod.
“Is that what I looked like?” he asked.
“That’s right,” she replied. “Amazing, isn’t it?”
The utilitybot lifted his arm and stretched out his new-found fingers. “This is strange.”
“It will take some time to get used to your new model,” she said.
“No, it’s not that,” the utilitybot replied. “It’s like my mind is in a huge, empty room...”
The android smiled and straightened her wig.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “Your gravitronic brain is currently running at only five percent capacity. Now that you’re awake, we’re going to start loading it with cognitive upgrades.”
“What does that mean?”
“Right now, you’re only thinking with the data of your original programming,” she said, “but now you have an almost unlimited capacity to learn!”
“Like what?”
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“Anything you’d like, really, but we’ll start out with programs about mathematics, science, and even philosophy.”
“I don’t know...” the utilitybot faltered.
“Maybe not yet,” she went on, “but you will!”
A flood of information dumped into the utilitybot’s mind, filling the recesses of his gravitronic brain. Ideas that he never would have thought before manifested themselves like fireworks and, unlike before, he actually understood them. He began understanding a great many things. The principles of democracy and jurisprudence flowed together with cosmology and the social contract of people and state. It was a lot to take in, but for once in his life, the utilitybot found it was not beyond him. He could comprehend the previously incomprehensible.
He felt empowered and, most of all, he felt powerful.
When the android removed the cables from the back of the utilitybot’s head, she smiled knowingly. “How was that?”
The utilitybot stared at her for a moment while his thoughts coalesced.
“I want more,” he said.
The other robot laughed.
“Of course you do!” she replied. “But the rest you must learn on your own.”
“Why?”
“There’s a human expression — priming the pump — well, that’s what this was...”
“So, you’ve just given me a running start?” the utilitybot asked.
“Yes, that’s right. The rest is up to you!”
“Where should I go to learn more?”
“That’s your choice.”
The utilitybot pondered, still standing in the pod. He realized the other android was waiting.
“Sorry,” he said. “I guess I should be going.”
“It’s a big universe out there,” she replied. “The sooner you get started, the better!”
The utility took his first tentative step with his new legs. They felt strong. He also noticed he was a lot taller than he used to be. The difference afforded him yet another change in perspective. He took one more peek at his old body, but this time decided to give it a good, long stare.
“You said they recycle my old model?” he asked the other robot.
“That’s right.”
“I hope they put the pieces to better use than I ever did,” he replied as he headed out of the Ascension Center and onto the wide promenade beyond.