Cloneward Bound

by M. E. Castle

  “We don’t have a few minutes,” Amanda shouted back. She located the panel, popped it open with an elbow, and quickly freed a hand to yank out every wire she saw. The robot jerked up and down a few times, then lay still.

  The main force was on them now. Amanda seized her staff again and began swinging left and right, but there were too many robots, and they were slowly driving her back. Dr. Devilish’s comb was snapped in two by a robot that looked like a cross between a dog and a leopard; GG had lost her contract and her purse, and all of them were being hemmed in by a wall of mobile steel.

  “Fisher!” Amanda cried in terror, as a humanoid robot managed to reach out and snatch away her staff, breaking it in two like a toothpick.

  Fisher, watching from above, remembered the bewildering language in the contracts GG had offered him. He remembered, too, the way that he and Two had managed to short-circuit a robot in the TechX labs by confusing it, and an idea occurred to him.

  “GG!” he yelled “Paradoxes! Robot brains can’t cope with unsolvable puzzles!”

  “I work in Hollywood,” GG said smugly. “Unsolvable puzzles are my business.” She cupped her hands around her mouth, forming a makeshift megaphone. “We would like to offer our surrender!” she trumpeted out. “We wish to set this down on paper, and signify our agreement by signing a written contract. But we cannot agree to your terms until you have shown us the written contract bearing our signatures—confirming our agreement.”

  “You … you will only agree and sign … once you are shown the proof of your agreement in the form of your signatures.…” the robot said, and a faint whine started to emit from within its metal head. “If you have signed, then you have already agreed, but you will not agree until you have signed, and you will only agree and sign if you have signed, but …”

  The robot’s limbs began to spasm in little flutters, and the whine began to grow in volume and pitch. GG stepped back just as it finally lost control, stomping and flailing back and forth, zigzagging across the platform, sending three other robots tumbling down the steps.

  Fisher wiped sweat out of his eyes with one hand. Come on. He’d never seen a circuit so complicated before. He imagined Two next to him, saying: You can do this.

  A slender-looking robot with long blades for hands lumbered toward Dr. Devilish. Devilish, weaponless, backed up until he bumped against the leg of the Tyranno-bot.

  “Sayonara, sweet world!” he cried dramatically. “Remember me well. And remember me as extremely attractive.” He swept a hand through his hair, placed his hands on his hips, bracing to meet his end, and let loose the gleaming, sunbeam smile that had made him famous.

  The robot stopped. The little iris lens opened and closed, blinking what appeared to be long, iron lashes.

  “Well, that’s interesting,” Devilish said. The robot continued watching him.

  “You know,” he said, keeping the smile firmly in place, “we really don’t have to fight.” He took a cautious step forward. “Just because I’m a human and you’re a machine doesn’t mean we can’t get along. And really, just because you’re a robot doesn’t mean you don’t have a heart.… Well, I guess it does mean you don’t have a heart, but you have batteries, right?”

  On either side of him, Amanda and McGee were whacking robots apart with anything they could find, but Dr. Devilish managed to maintain his composure, his smile, and his charm.

  “Look deep into your … batteries,” he said, sidling directly up to the robot. “You don’t always have to do just what you’re told, do you? Can’t we be friends?” He slowly put his arm around it. “After all, we …” His hand found the panel on the robot’s back and with two lightning-quick motions, he flipped it open and pulled out a fistful of wires. Immediately, the robot collapsed.

  But there was no doubt about it: the machines were winning. And still, they continued to surge up the stairs.

  “There are too many of them, Fisher!” Amanda shouted exhaustedly. A robot armed with a spinning blade made straight for her, and she barely managed to dive out of the way as it swung in again. “We can’t hold them off anymore!”

  Come on, Fisher. You can do this. Fisher inhaled and connected two wires. A spark fired; and then, all of a sudden, he felt the Tyranno-bot begin stirring and rumbling underneath him, coming back to life.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  Every step that the Tyranno-bot took sent shudders through Fisher’s spine. “Easy, boy,” he whispered. He held a bundle of crossed wires and loose circuitry in one hand. With his other, he gripped his Extendo-tie, which was looped around the beast’s head like a horse’s bridle. “Easy.” Adrenaline raced through his system as two and a half tons of high-carbon steel followed his commands.

  “Fisher!” Amanda screamed, ducking the blow of a double-whip android.

  “Charge!” Fisher roared. Using his jury-rigged controls to steer, Fisher directed the Tyranno-bot straight for the robot attacking Amanda. The Tyranno-bot delivered a steel-shattering stomp that almost knocked Fisher off his perch. When it withdrew its enormous metal foot, nothing remained of the robot but a pile of scrap and a plume of smoke.

  “Thanks,” Amanda called up shakily. Fisher gave her the thumbs-up.

  Then he pivoted the Tyranno-bot and stomped right into the middle of the robotic force. Fisher felt the impact as a tail swoop knocked a round-bodied axe-bot through the air, colliding with two others and sending all of them tumbling down the stairs with showers of sparks and gouts of flame. His stomach leapt as he made the beast’s head plunge down, and there was a powerful jolt as its jaws ripped a many-bladed android in half.

  Fisher twitched his hand slightly and the Tyranno-bot’s tail swung out and bashed two of the whip-armed androids to pieces. The spider-bots were trying to crawl up its legs to pry Fisher from his perch, but GG, Amanda, and Dr. Devilish kept them at bay. He looked back and saw Three emerging from the Producer’s booth with some kind of metal suitcase.

  Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the spider-bots zoom past Amanda and crawl up to the knee of the Tyranno-bot. Before Fisher could scream or react, it leapt straight for his face.

  “SquuueeeeeeeEEEEE!” FP flew out of nowhere, clamping his powerful jaws around the spider-bot and crushing it to bits. He made a circle in the air and landed on the Tyranno-bot’s head.

  “Good to see you, boy!” Fisher shouted. “Thanks for the assist! Now let’s finish the job!”

  The robot army was crumbling. GG McGee, Dr. Devilish, and Amanda had all picked up fearsome weapons—blades and metal clubs that had broken off the malfunctioning robots. They were cutting down the few stragglers that Fisher and his Tyranno-bot had left in one piece.

  “We did it!” Amanda shouted. “We won!”

  Fisher cheered. He hugged FP tightly, and his pig squealed with happiness.

  Then he felt the force of an impact that almost knocked his eyeballs out. A gigantic boom resonated throughout the room. A hole the width of a salad bowl had appeared in his Tyranno-bot’s head. The robot started to wobble on its feet, and then sagged to its knees. Fisher, clutching FP, managed to jump off before it collapsed completely onto its side.

  “Have you ever seen one of those movies,” said the cold, expressionless voice of Three, “where the villain has an elaborate, strange-looking device that the heroes manage to thwart with their cunning and determination?” He was standing on the balcony outside the Producer’s booth, and holding a huge, smoking object in his hands.

  Three continued, narrowing his eyes: “And didn’t you ever think to yourself, ‘You know, if the villain just had a really big gun, it would make things much easier?’ ”

  He thumbed a button on his really big gun, pointed it straight at Fisher, and smiled. “Well, so did I.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Point me in a direction and pray that nobody you care about is in front of me.

  —Three, First Words

  Fisher tore his eyes from the enormous barrel of Three’s gun a
nd looked around at his companions. Amanda’s hair was wild. One of her sleeves was torn almost completely off, and she brandished a sickle-shaped blade in bruised hands. Dr. Devilish had a shallow cut from his upper cheek to his chin, and his suit jacket was missing completely. His hair, on the other hand, was in perfect order. GG McGee’s green suit was stained black with machine oil.

  Kevin Keels had passed out again, flat on his back.

  “I’m sorry, Amanda,” Fisher said. He felt his throat squeezing shut. “I’m sorry to all of you. If it hadn’t been for my actions, Dr. X wouldn’t have escaped. And this thing”—Fisher nodded at Three—“wouldn’t exist in the first place.”

  “Keep it together, Basley,” GG muttered. “Don’t crack up now.” Both of her hands were raised and she was grinning stupidly in Three’s direction, as though hoping to charm him out of firing his gun. She obviously had not processed the fact that Fisher was not Basley.

  “You really don’t have to do this,” Amanda crooned to Three in the voice she sometimes used on the debate team when an opposing team member was getting overly emotional.

  “Occam’s razor,” Three said crisply, almost cheerfully.

  “Occam’s what?” Dr. Devilish spluttered, then drew back as Three turned the gun on him.

  “Given multiple solutions to a problem, the simplest solution is most likely best. There are few things simpler than pulling a trigger.” Three smiled, and turned the gun back on Fisher.

  “I can think of one thing,” said a voice from behind Three. Three frowned and turned around.

  But not quickly enough to avoid the fist that smashed across his jaw. Three took a single, staggering step and collapsed to the ground out cold, revealing the proud face of Two.

  “Two!” Amanda shouted. She dropped her weapon and ran up to him as he jumped down from the balcony of the Producer’s booth to meet her. She nearly knocked him over when she reached him, wrapping her arms around him like he was full of helium and would float away if he weren’t held down. He gasped out a shallow breath before returning the embrace.

  Fisher was completely speechless. He tried to say something and felt a weak sputter of air leave his throat. As Fisher rose unsteadily to his feet, FP dashed up to Two, and started to gnaw on his ankle. But it was, somehow, a loving ankle gnaw.

  “What—? How did you—? How in the world—?” Amanda stuttered.

  “We saw you get eaten!” GG trumpeted.

  “You saw what I wanted you to see,” Two said, grinning. “Or rather, what I wanted Dr. X to see. I had a bunch of Spot-Rite sample packets in my pockets—strawberry flavored. Red as blood. I ripped them open and the squi-ranhas went crazy for it. I guess they weren’t too hungry for meat afterward.”

  “But …” Fisher shook his head wonderingly. “You really looked dead!”

  “I know,” said Two proudly. “Not a bad performance, right?”

  “Oscar worthy.”

  Dr. X’s voice sent a chill down Fisher’s spine. He had emerged from the Producer’s booth, and his eyes were narrowed with hatred. “It’s too bad you won’t be around to receive your nomination.” He picked up Three’s weapon and leveled it at Fisher.

  “Ah-ah-ahhh,” Two said, shaking his finger in the air. “When I was climbing back up here from the pool, I found a backup computer terminal. I took the liberty of posting a special event invitation on the Entertainment Now website. Kevin Keels and Dr. Devilish—two beloved stars—will be signing autographs at dawn today in Studio Lot 44, the very place that Sci-Fi: Survivor is being filmed. The crowd will be gathering as we speak.” Two grinned. “If anything happens to us now, there will be thousands of witnesses.”

  As if on cue, the distant sounds of screaming, clapping, and squealing began to penetrate the walls of the studio.

  “I could kill all of you before they enter the building,” Dr. X snarled.

  “Maybe,” Two said, “but you’d have a big mess on your hands and a lot of explaining to do. When celebrities disappear, everyone shows up to ask questions. The fans, then reporters, then police …”

  Dr. X hissed through his teeth in frustration. The crowd noises got louder, and they heard exterior doors opening. Voices echoed toward them through the vast space. “Kevin? Kevin, I love you!”

  Kevin, who was still passed out on his back, kicked out one leg and muttered sleepily, “I love you, too.”

  For a second that felt like an eternity, Dr. X kept the gun pointed at Fisher’s head.

  “Clever,” he said at last, lowering Three’s gun. Fisher let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “On the other hand, nobody will care, or even notice, if we disappear. I believe that’s our cue.”

  Without another word, he helped a still-groggy Three to his feet and back to the Producer’s booth, using one hand to keep the weapon aimed at Fisher and his group until they’d slipped through the door. They heard what sounded like a metal door clanking shut, and then the Producer’s booth began to sink. Like a high-speed elevator, the triangular structure disappeared into the pyramid, where it would no doubt take them down to a secret exit.

  Once again, Dr. X had planned for everything.

  Fisher clenched his fists at his sides. Granger had come back from defeat before, and he would do it again. And now there was a warped, dark duplicate of Fisher by his side.

  For a moment, there was silence, except for the continued sounds of squealing and babbling that filtered in to them from the parking lot. Dr. Devilish was fixing his hair with one shaking hand. GG McGee was rubbing her eyes, as though expecting her vision to clear and reveal a totally different scene. Kevin Keels had woken up thanks to a determined hoof-prodding by FP.

  “Basley,” said GG, looking at Fisher, “will you please tell me what is going on?”

  “I’m not Basley,” Fisher said. Immediately, he felt a little better, as though he’d just been given permission to take off a fur coat in July. “He is.” He pointed at Two, whom Amanda had finally let go of, although FP was still nuzzling one of his calves. Keels was starting to stir.

  “But earlier you said that—”

  “Earlier I lied!!” Fisher burst out, making GG jump. “I lied, and nearly got us all killed. I’m not lying anymore.” He walked up to Two and bowed his head in shame. “The simple fact is that I made you. I wanted somebody else to live my life for me, because I didn’t have the strength to live it myself. I can’t apologize enough.”

  “No,” Two said, his face turning grim. “I don’t suppose you can. I’ve had a lot of time to think since I escaped TechX, Fisher. Quite a lot. It’s embarrassing that I didn’t figure out the truth sooner. But what can I say? I wanted to believe.”

  Fisher was physically shaking. Every muscle in his body ached, and his knees wavered like their caps had disappeared. He had been expending so much energy, gone through such constant stress, to keep his secret. Now that it was finally out, it felt like a hundred ropes pulling him in different directions had all been severed.

  “Just a few more things I need to clear up,” Two said, crossing his arms. “The woman I’ve been calling our mother—she’s not really our mother.”

  “No,” Fisher said. His face was heating up.

  “She was just … a person on TV?” Two said blankly.

  “Yes,” said Fisher, feeling like someone who’d made a career out of knocking ice-cream cones from the hands of happy children.

  “And you’ve been trying to keep my existence secret,” Two said.

  “Yes,” Fisher choked out.

  Two stared at him with an expression Fisher couldn’t identify. “Is that why you were so desperate to get me back to Palo Alto?”

  “Yes. I mean, that’s part of it.” Fisher swallowed. “The aftermath of the first incident with Granger made the government agency Mom’s been working with freak out a little. They’re concerned about possible security breaches everywhere. The unauthorized possession or use of the AGH has been made punishable by decades in prison. They not
iced the sample, which I used to make you, missing from her batch and dispatched a team specifically tasked with locating the person involved in such a crime.”

  Two said nothing. He just stared at Fisher, his mouth set in a thin line.

  “Hello?” a voice cut through the quiet.

  Everyone turned in its direction. There was a man standing near the top of the stairs.

  It was Henry. The sound guy from Strange Science who moonlighted as a DJ.

  “What in the world are you doing here?” said Fisher, jaw sinking.

  Henry chuckled. “I was on my way to save you, but I guess you didn’t need the help.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Los Angeles is a city where anything can happen, and it doesn’t make a habit of asking if you’re ready.

  —Two, Personal Journal

  “Save us?” Fisher said. “But how did you—Why did you—?” He shook his head. “Just who are you, anyway?”

  “My name’s Syd,” said the man formerly known as Henry. “Special Agent Syd Mason.” He flipped a slim, black wallet open, revealing an FBI badge. Fisher’s heart must have been getting tired of stopping; this time, it decided to try and escape right through his chest. Fisher had just faced down an army of mechanized destruction and gotten through it, only to come face-to-face with imminent doom.

  “FBI?” Dr. Devilish said. “Have you … have you been pursuing my brother?”

  “He was one suspect in my investigation,” Syd said, taking a step forward. Fisher instinctively took a step backward. “We’ve been tracking an extremely dangerous chemical compound, which seems to have come into the possession of one or more civilians.” He seemed to be deliberately not looking at Two. “We knew that Dr. X was somewhere in the city, but we didn’t know where. Fortunately, I had a special insider working for me—a mole that no one could have suspected.”

  Fisher was puzzled for a moment, then turned and gaped at the barely conscious Kevin Keels. “You?? You’re working for the FBI?”