He stopped and turned to me one last time. “Good night, Samantha. Tomorrow will be a busy day, so please see that you get some rest.” Then he stepped into the hall beyond – and the sliding door slipped shut behind him.
A hand appeared before my face with a glass of water. I looked up at the “Diana” model in French braids, returned her open and friendly smile, and took the glass of water. “Thank you, Grace.”
“You are most welcome Samantha,” said Grace. “The bread is almost finished baking as well, and I’m sure you could use a little food. I’ll be back shortly with it.” She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, then turned and left the room. I watched her go… mindlessly rubbing the soft blanket between my fingertips.
Chapter Thirteen
After the admittedly delicious bread, fresh and flaky sourdough, I was “escorted” to my room. The room was enormous and beautiful, carved out of the rock like the rest of the underground home, and furnished with the finest in modern amenities.
I stood in the doorway and waited as the guards left, shutting the door behind them. Then I hugged myself and took a deep breath. At length, I decided that if I couldn’t focus on “out,” as in everything that was outside of me – Prometheus, Lucas, freedom – I would concentrate on “in.”
I took a long, hot shower. Zero had provided the finest in luxury toiletries, including a luxe shampoo and conditioner in gorgeous glass bottles. I used half of each, partly to make things expensive for IRM-1000, and partly because they smelled divine and felt like heaven.
Once I was finished showering, I used an epilator on my legs because the mild but wide-spread pain distracted from the stronger pain inside. I rubbed scented lotion all over my body. I brushed my teeth about a dozen times and flossed a half dozen more. I gargled half a bottle of mouthwash, wanting to erase any traces of the food and drink I now felt guilty about enjoying while my friends might all be dead.
And then, because I felt like I needed to do something to “straighten things out” in my life, I used the blow dryer and the high-end straightening iron provided to tame my snow-white hair.
It was amazing to me that we hadn’t progressed any further with hair care in the last hundred years. Straighteners had been around for nearly a century. By now, shouldn’t we have had some kind of techno-hat you could put on? One that would automatically style your hair however you wanted with the touch of a button? Then again, time never advanced the things you expected it to. We still didn’t have Back to the Future’s hoverboards either. Or a cure for the common cold.
When I was finished primping as if the world wasn’t ending, I stared in the mirror for an inordinate amount of time.
Just then in that moment, I would have had to admit to Daniel that I resembled the woman in his painting. My cheeks were flushed pink from scrubbing, my skin glowed new and fresh, my eyes were gold fire, and my hair was like strands of fly-away silk, fine as feathers but thick as Nanuk’s fur.
Nanuk….
The glow of my gold eyes intensified with the threat of tears. I closed them and turned away from the mirror, resting back against the bathroom counter with my arms wrapped around my chest. Are you alive, big bear? I wondered. Are… any of you? Was there anyone out there any longer that I could call family or friend?
Sam….
My eyes flew open. My entire body went rigid with shock, hope and uncertainty. Had I really just heard what I thought I had? Had someone said my name? Or was I exhausted, drugged up, and under a tremendous amount of stress?
Damn, I thought, because the answer was all too clear and all too disappointing.
Samantha… hang… there….
I spun around in the bathroom, my hair flying, my eyes darting to every corner. If I’d imagined that voice, then I’d officially wandered off the reservation and joined the naked people dancing in the forest. Especially since the voice in question sounded like Nicholas Byron.
It wasn’t Daniel or Sonia or any of the androids I would have expected if I’d expected to hear voices in my head. I would have expected them because they were the ones I associated with Prometheus, so if I were going to imagine anyone communicating with me telepathically, it would probably have been a rebel.
But no, the voice I’d heard definitely belonged to Nicholas. He’d cut in and out as if he couldn’t get a good connection, but what words had made it through were firm and resolute, and they were precisely articulated, the way Nicholas always spoke.
I blinked a few times, frowning. Wrapped in the robe provided on the hook in the bathroom, I left the en-suite bathroom and crept into the massive bedroom beyond. Then I moved around the room searching for radios or speakers or anything at all that would explain the voice and the words I’d heard.
But this isn’t right, I thought. Nicholas hadn’t sounded like he was coming through a radio or a speaker. His voice had been too clear and too close. He had literally spoken in my head. I was positive of it.
But that was impossible. I wasn’t an android, and neither was Nicholas. Humans didn’t have telepathy.
Okay so, we’re back to – I must be crazy. Crazy people hear voices.
After a complete circle of the room in which I’d found only a fire alarm, three hidden bugs, and two hidden cameras – all of which I angrily dismantled – I stopped beside the queen-sized bed and ran a hand through my very long hair. It was soft around my fingers, right up until the end, where it snagged on them because I was going too fast.
“Ow!” I growled, yanking my hand free. The sudden pain made me realize I felt anxious, uncertain, and desperate. “This situation is untenable,” I muttered. I put my hand to my forehead, noticing it was very warm. Either I was developing a fever or I was just that upset.
When I then approached the main door of the bedroom suite, I had a feeling I knew what I’d find. But I tried the handle anyway, because how stupid would it be that I never escaped because I never tried the unlocked door?
It was locked, of course.
I dropped my hand and sighed. Since I clearly wasn’t allowed to leave, I supposed Zero would have known whether I required anything further by keeping tabs on me with those cameras I’d destroyed.
He hadn’t come running when I’d murdered them, so I figured he didn’t really care about the loss of property. He trusted I would stay put. After all, he had my word about tomorrow night – and he had Lucas. He was holding all the cards. What were a few ruined cameras to him? And there was always a chance I would miss one. Hell, there could be more in that room, watching me that very minute.
“Ugh,” I muttered. “I want to go home.”
I listened for voices in my head, half expecting to hear something like, “We’re coming, Sam,” or “you’ll be home soon enough.” But there was nothing. In fact it was extra quiet, as if a phone line to my brain had been severed.
With a renewed sense of hopelessness, I padded barefoot across the thick, plush carpet to the walk-in closet. I was betting that Zero had provided at least pajamas. But what I hadn’t expected was the virtual designer boutique inside – fully stocked, from underwear to socks and shoes. Nice shoes. The stuff in that closet was probably worth a total sum in the neighborhood of a few million bucks.
My brain had been geared toward Prometheus over the last year, so the first thing I wondered was what in that treasure trove I could pocket and sell later to fund the rebel group. I looked for jewelry right off the bat, but there wasn’t any. Zero must have foreseen my thought processes. I wasn’t deterred though.
Praying there were no cameras in the closet – creepy – and ignored the glittering clothes for the more sensible option of jeans and layered shirts, I got dressed in carefully selected clothing and kept my eyes peeled for valuables. I favored the labels I knew to be expensive and finished off my ensemble with a thick studded leather jacket in bright red, insulated gloves and socks, and boots that looked both waterproof and exceedingly pricey. If nothing else, I was going to be the best dressed rebel on the planet.
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br /> Finally I pulled on a studded black leather belt with a designer tag and topped off my angel-white hair with a knit cap. I had no idea whether the cap was designer or even valuable; it was solely to keep my ears warm. Zero lived in the middle of the Winter Kingdom and I had no idea where I might be stuck in the next few hours, much less the next few days. Besides, on one occasion, Lucas had taken off his own knit cap and gently pulled it down onto my head before telling me I was adorable. So I knew a least he would approve.
At the thought of Luke’s words and his killer smile, I stopped in the middle of the closet and closed my eyes. I have to get you out of here, I thought, wishing he could hear me. And not on Zero’s terms. I couldn’t let Zero get the upper hand, not even once. If I did, he would always be one step ahead of me, one step ahead of us. We would always be running to catch up, ready to agree to his terms just to keep the worst at bay.
Screw that. I clenched my teeth and moved through the closet a second time, this time searching the space with a firm purpose. I gathered a few extra things and left the closet, my eyes scanning the room again, but now through a scientist’s gaze. I looked for parts. Things I could use. I tried to focus, to plan, to think. It was admittedly harder with what was left of the drug Zero had slipped me in my system. But I was determined, and I had been fueled by sourdough bread. So I was pretty much ready for anything.
The bathroom was the jackpot of course. Anything with alcohol in it, and anything aerosol was game. I grabbed the lot of it. Then I shut the door, sat down on the bathroom floor, and got to work making bombs.
The luxury glass shampoo and conditioner bottles were used as containers, waxed boot laces I used as wicks, and different metals and stones from the decorations on clothes and shoes in the closet would start up a flame. Prometheus had taught me how to do it all. It was my android big brother.
Sam… are you…
I had finished three make-shift Molotov cocktails and started on the third when I heard the voice again. I stopped what I was doing and sat up straight, listening for all I was worth.
Where are….
It was Nicholas again. And he sounded desperate now, angry even. Scared.
There were only so many times a person could ignore something like this before facts needed to be faced. I was pretty sure I wasn’t crazy. I just – I wasn’t. I’d been through a lot in my life and I hadn’t turned crazy yet, so chances were pretty good I was actually still on the reservation with the other natives and hadn’t yet wandered into the forest to party with the nudists.
No, it didn’t make a lot of sense to me that Nicholas would be communicating with me telepathically. But lightning hadn’t made sense to people at one time either. Or shooting stars. Or even the moon. So I filed it under “to be explained later,” and swallowed my pride. I closed my eyes and thought very hard and very loud, the way I had when I’d been mentally communicating with Zero.
Nick! I’m here! I’m under the pyramid! In the east wing! Last door!
I practically screamed it at him and imagined that my words took on solid, sharp, indestructible form that pushed unhindered through the walls around me and then tunneled their way up through the snow above me to zero in on Nicholas like heat-seeking missiles.
There was laughter in my head, soft and chilling. It was a small amused chuckle that wrapped around me like black silk and spilled ice into my blood. My body went cold.
So, said Zero with devastating calm, we’re to have guests, then.
Terror gripped me as I opened my eyes and looked around at the tools of destruction I’d hastily thrown together. I desperately didn’t want him to know about them. And in my absolute fear, and in that decisive moment, I did what was possibly the single most significant thing I’d done in my life.
In my head, I imagined a wall. It was an actual wall of reinforced steel several feet thick, like the one Lex had slammed into when they’d rescued me from the twenty-seventh floor of Vector Fifteen. I imagined that wall between two entities. On one side was my coveted knowledge, all the things I wanted to keep hidden from the bad guys. On the other side was Zero.
I closed my eyes again and focused on that wall, hearing it as it rumbled and rose, breaking free from the ground like some massive monument to climb toward the heavens to the tune of 2001 Space Odyssey. I thought of this and nothing else.
At length, I heard Zero’s voice in my head once more. Very clever, he said with a hint of impatience. Then aloud he said, “But you forget there are more ways than one for me to look in on you, Dandelion.”
I opened my eyes and looked up to find Zero standing over me in the bathroom doorway, a throng of soldiers behind him. He’d “changed” his attire again. The shape of his uniform was the same as usual, but every article of it was pitch black and devoid of decoration. The color was stark against the pale tone of his face and hands and made his blue eyes all the more vivid. He looked austere and frightening in a way he never had before.
I was reminded of evil priests or warlocks, of men with influence and power pulled straight from the boardrooms of Hell. Which was probably the effect he was going for.
“And to think I went to all that trouble to so carefully reassemble your friend,” he told me, his expression thoroughly emotionless, his words utterly calm. His ice blue gaze slowly perused my rudimentary weapons where they lay fanned out across the bathroom floor. “We had an agreement, Samantha,” he said without looking at me. “To say that I am disappointed in this turn of events would be a celebrated understatement.”
He stepped into the room, his long legs carrying him across the short distance in two easy strides. Then he towered over me tall and dark, and I fell backward in order to look up at him. “But I can’t say that I’m surprised.”
He didn’t offer me his hand or ask me to accompany him this time. Instead, he just leaned over, grabbed my upper arm in a vice-like grip, and hauled me to my feet. The partially finished bomb in my lap went spilling to the floor and rolled away until it hit the side of the tub.
My legs shook a little beneath me, but it didn’t matter because Zero didn’t let me go. He spun me around until my chest was against his and gathered my wrists together at my back. I held my breath as a soldier came forward with a pair of manacles.
I was no physical match for Zero. He was an android. And more importantly, he was IRM-1000. Daniel stood a chance against him, and on a good day Lucas did too. Weapons worked against him, if the attacker was lucky. But that was about it.
However, I had three marks in my favor against Zero at that moment.
One, that wall was still up in my head. Once I’d erected it, it seemed stable and unmoving. I had to assume it was working at keeping him away from my secrets, or he wouldn’t have been impressed by it.
Two, I knew he was expecting me to reason that I was no match for him and just give up. He wouldn’t anticipate any kind of fight on my end. That afforded me the element of surprise.
Three, and most importantly, I knew there was a loaded handgun within a few inches of my right arm. One of Zero’s soldiers was standing just close enough….
But it was now or never.
At once, I let all thoughts of failure go. I stopped thinking altogether in fact, and slipped into Zen mode. It wasn’t often I could do this. But I seemed to be able to when there was a chance – no matter how small.
One of my heroes had always been the legendary swordsman Miyamoto Musashi. The famed warrior had also been a philosopher and writer, and this combination was what made him one of my idols. Among other things, he was purported to have once taught his students something very simple, yet vital: “To win any battle, you must fight as if you are already dead.”
I’d found over time that this was more or less true. When it came down to the wire, if you fought like you had nothing to lose, you would probably keep from losing it. No fear meant no hesitation, no surprise, and no doubt.
In Zero’s arms, I relaxed my muscles, going slack in his grip. Just before the c
uffs would have snapped shut around my wrists, I jerked my right arm sharply downward and out. In doing so, I not only broke free from Zero’s left hand, I placed my own hand exactly where I needed it to be: around the hilt of that soldier’s handgun.
No fear, no hesitation.
With speed I didn’t even realize I possessed, I ripped the weapon from its holster at the soldier’s waist, spun to jam it into Zero’s rock-hard abdomen, and pulled the trigger.
Then I pulled it again, just to be sure.
Chapter Fourteen
Over and over, I squeezed the rounds off. I fully planned to then spin and empty the rest of the clip into the soldiers standing between me and my freedom. But as I attempted to draw back after the fourth shot I’d fired into Zero’s body, I realized his grip on my other wrist hadn’t lessened at all. In fact, if anything, it had tightened.
Figuring it was simply reflex brought on by surprise, I attempted to do the same thing with that arm that I’d done with the other. I jerked it downward and out to free it. But this time, I failed. His hold on me was stronger than ever.
Now I looked up at his face. What I saw when I did took all my plans and flushed them down the nearby toilet. Zero’s expression was as emotionless as ever. But while the outer rims of his eyes were still glowing blue, their centers resembled the fires of Hell. The EED at his left eye depicted the same troubled mis-matched colors. He looked down on me and his gaze narrowed in a way that made me feel tiny and insignificant, like an insect nearly crushed beneath a heavy iron boot.
I tore my eyes from his and looked down at his stomach, my thoughts in turmoil. Small wet patches of thorium stained the black material of his shirt and jacket, but it was barely visible. And what there was visible of the thorium was minimal. He’d barely bled at all.
Oh no, no, no…. With dawning horror, I realized my mistake. In my rush to be free, to take my chance and get to Lucas, I’d forgotten the order Zero had issued to use non-lethal bullets when dealing with Prometheus. The casings were filled with android tranquilizer. Nothing more.
I, Android: A Different Model Page 13
