Steel Guardian

by Cameron Coral

  It was a good question. So far, every human had been armed.

  “Carry on,” he said, and started forward.

  Nova yanked at his arm. “Don’t think I’m doing this because you’re some charity case. I’m not doing this for the damn baby. And I couldn’t give one crap about you.”

  Block studied her set jaw and narrowed eyes, finding not a flicker of warmth. “Of course not,” he said.

  She plodded ahead, stepping heavily. “I just want my money, and then I split. First chance I get. As soon as you get me that money.”

  24

  The superstore—an old Costco—loomed large as they approached. Graffiti covered the tall front walls, and the double-front glass doors had been kicked out, revealing a dark interior. The entrance looked like the mouth of an ominous cave. Before them stretched a wide parking lot where weeds sprouted up from crevices. An overturned passenger bus lay on its side and dented, rusting cars and metal shopping carts littered the path to the store.

  “Stay very quiet,” Nova whispered. She led Block behind a copse of trees where they crouched in view of the store’s entrance.

  She retrieved a small pair of binoculars from her bag while Block zoomed in with his ocular display. He wasn’t entirely sure what to watch for. Signs of activity, he supposed. Nova seemed to know what she was doing.

  After twenty minutes, he broke the silence. “How long do we wait?”

  “Until I say.”

  “There’s no activity, human or robotic,” he said.

  “Yeah.” She lowered her binoculars. “Seems too easy.”

  “Would you like me to use my infrared to determine whether there are any heat signatures behind the building’s walls?”

  She glowered at him. “What? Are you telling me you could’ve done that all along? You can tell if there are humans inside?”

  Oh. Had he done something wrong by not revealing that detail earlier? “Yes, up to a certain distance,” he answered. “I can discern the heat trails of human beings.”

  “Well, shit,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Of course, I want you to do that.”

  It was difficult to tell when she was joking versus being serious. Block switched on his infrared sensor and scanned the front walls of the building. “I detect zero heat signatures.”

  “What about robots? Can you check for those, too?”

  “I can send a ping.”

  Nova arched an eyebrow. “A ping? What the hell is that?”

  “It’s an AI-to-AI method of communication. I transmit an encrypted code, and any AI within range will respond—unless their comms are disabled—sending me their precise location and model. It depends on what information they make available, but usually I can tell immediately if they’re a combat machine or not.”

  “You’re flipping kidding me,” she said. “Have you been doing that the whole time we’ve been traveling?”

  “Well, no. I only transmit at certain times, because if I emitted pings more frequently, that would alert other robots to my location. It might make me a target, as you put it.”

  She clenched her jaw and eyed the building. “So, what you’re saying is that, you send a ping, and robots might answer. But we won’t know whether they’re friendly. And they’ll know instantly where you are.”

  “Correct.”

  “That does make things interesting.” She bit her lower lip. “Do it. Let’s take the chance, and we’ll run if there’s a hostile. The potential for supplies inside is worth the risk. I suspect the store’s been looted many times over, but some goodies might’ve been missed.”

  “All right.” He emitted a ping that would transmit to any AI within half a mile.

  After ten seconds, he said, “No replies.”

  “It’s that fast?”

  He nodded. “Unless they’ve purposely disabled their comms to disguise themselves, there are no AI machines present.”

  Her eyes widened, and she tilted her head. “Nice work, Tinman.”

  The compliment took him by surprise. It had been six months, two weeks, and three days since he’d last received a compliment from Mr. Wallace.

  “We go in fast,” she said. “The front door is gone. I’ll go first and secure the entrance. When I give a hand signal, you follow.”

  “Okay.”

  “Move fast. Got it?”

  He nodded, and Nova sprinted across the parking lot, stopping once behind an abandoned car. She craned her head, checking around, then covered the rest of the distance to the door. Pressing her back against the side of the building, she shifted her body to glance inside, then flattened herself against the exterior again. Lingering a moment, she disappeared inside the entrance.

  She was being careful. How had she learned those skills? He’d have to ask her later. After thirty seconds, she appeared at the door. Pointing at him, she drew her hand back. Come on.

  CleanerBots weren’t meant to run long distances, and certainly weren’t built with speed in mind. Block rose and checked the baby. He cradled one hand underneath her bottom and the other against her head, hoping to dampen any jostling that might scare her into crying.

  He jogged forward, his metal boots stomping across the parking lot pavement. Ahead of him at the store, Nova flailed her arms as if saying, Faster, faster. But he didn’t think he could go any faster, and the baby’s head bobbed up and down, her brow furrowed and her lips quivered as if she might scream. He trotted forward, and every step hitting the asphalt felt heavy. Ten feet away, he recognized the car where Nova had stopped. As he reached it, he lowered into a crouch and mimicked her movements, scanning the other cars behind him. No signs of hostiles.

  Nova stomped her foot in the doorway.

  Rising, he raced forward, lurching toward her until he finally reached the door. He skidded past her a few steps into pitch-black darkness. Switching on his night vision display, he saw a store in disarray. Shelves had been stripped bare, and the floor was littered with empty cans, bottles, broken glass, and torn pieces of cardboard boxes. He stepped toward Nova and kicked a glass bottle. It rolled across the floor, echoing into the rafters until it shattered against one of the cash register counters.

  Next to him, Nova switched on a flashlight. “Scavenged this from the house.”

  “Good thinking.”

  “Keep your voice down,” she whispered. “I checked it out in here. We’re alone far as I can tell.”

  A faint scraping sound came from a nearby aisle. Nova jumped.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “Just a rat. My infrared shows several in the vicinity.”

  Her shoulders hunched. “God, I hate rats.”

  Block wondered why humans didn’t get along well with other biological creatures. Mr. Wallace had maintained a rat abatement program at the Drake. Block had been tasked with trapping and releasing dozens of rats over the years. There was nothing malicious about the rodents. Like humans, they were good at surviving.

  “Now what?” he asked.

  “We hunt for supplies and then get the hell out of here. I don’t like this place. Something about it.”

  He noticed the hair on the back of her neck stood erect.

  “Let’s stick together,” she said. “We’ll use the light to search the shelves.”

  They shuffled toward the nearest aisle. Few scattered supplies remained. Nova grabbed a crate that had once held breakfast cereal boxes. “Empty,” she muttered, and shoved the box away.

  Block spied an oversized jug of vegetable oil. He twisted off the cap and chugged the bottle, draining the contents and refueling his microbial fuel cell.

  Nova shined the flashlight on him. “Disgusting.”

  “Necessary,” Block said. “I need the oil to stay charged.” The baby cooed and he patted her back after placing the empty container back on the shelf.

  Nova sighed. “Everything in the front aisles has been picked over. We need to explore deeper into the store.”

  “Are you sure that’s wise?” he asked.

 
“You have a better idea?”

  He shook his head and they treaded forward. Water dripped from the ceiling and pooled on the floor. Nova’s flashlight shone two feet ahead. As they stepped forward, she collided with a box, sending a group of rats scurrying from underneath. They disappeared under neighboring shelves. She cried out and jumped back a foot, cowering beside Block.

  He wondered how creatures so small could frighten an adult human. “They have left the area.”

  But Nova was shaking. “Fuck. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “Don’t you want to search for more supplies?”

  “Changed my mind.” Her voice was thin. “Too dark and creepy in here.”

  “We need diapers. I’m out of cloth towels. Where would the diapers be?” he asked.

  They shuffled forward with Nova trailing close behind him, letting him lead with the light. He studied the shelves. Office furniture—desks and chairs—were perched high on shelves, untouched. After another minute, they reached the far wall of the store. A sign on the wall read: Sporting Goods.

  “We need to check this area,” she said quickly, regaining her voice. “There might be guns, ammunition.” She approached a long, clear counter that had been shattered. “Dammit, it’s been cleaned out.”

  Block scanned the shelves nearby and spied two black vests made from a stiff and sturdy material. Figuring they would make nice padding and insulation for the baby, he stuffed them into his duffel bag.

  Nova stepped over. “What did you find?”

  “Bedding for the baby.”

  “All the weapons have been looted,” she said. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “Diapers,” he reminded her.

  She frowned. “Right. There must be a baby aisle somewhere.”

  They trekked toward the south wall. Racks of clothing had been knocked over and clothes lay strewn about the floor. Nova shone the flashlight onto a pile, picked up a hooded sweatshirt, and stuffed it in her bag. “You should grab some clothes for the baby.”

  “Good idea.” Block stared down at the floor. “How do I find any?”

  “Just look for anything small,” she said, hunting around on the floor. “Any kids’ tee-shirts or sweaters will do.”

  He scanned the floor and kicked at a pile of men’s pants and jeans, all adult sized.

  “Here. I found a few kids’ tee-shirts.” Nova came over and handed him several articles.

  “Thank you.” He peered at the tiny shirts. They would be large on the baby, but perhaps she would grow into them someday.

  She grunted in reply. “Come on. This way.”

  They reached an aisle labeled Infant and Children. Nova shone the flashlight onto the only boxes remaining. High above them, on the topmost shelf, rested a shrink-wrapped bundle of boxed baby diapers. “Jackpot,” she said.

  “How do we get them down?” he asked, staring up at the twenty-five feet between them and the diaper bundle. “Is there a ladder?”

  “Damn, it’s high. Don’t you have an arm that can reach up or something?”

  “No.” Was she being funny again? “My extendable arms are for cleaning apparatus. They would never reach that high, nor support such a heavy item.”

  “I’ll have to climb it then,” she said. “Can you shine the light up there?”

  “Nova, climbing the shelf is dangerous. What if you fall?”

  “Do you want the goddamn diapers or not?”

  The baby girl really did need them, but his calculations offered hundreds of ways this might go wrong and result in injury. “Not if it means you get hurt.”

  Nova thrust the flashlight at his chest. “Light the way. We’re running out of time.” She grabbed the gun from the back of her pants and handed it to him. “And hold this.”

  He grasped the revolver gingerly. Holding the weapon so near the child was dangerous, so he placed it on a nearby shelf for safekeeping as Nova faced the tall structure.

  Perhaps he could catch her if she stumbled? He did a quick calculation of her body mass and the velocity at which she’d fall, and realized she would topple onto him in a way that would cause him damage. In fact, she would injure the baby, so he stepped two feet to the right, out of her fall zone.

  She hoisted her legs up and nestled her feet onto the first shelf, while straddling the middle juncture of the two wide shelving units. The thick, steel frame supported her weight, but the diaper box was another twenty feet up from the first shelf.

  “These stores are so big, they used to have robot-operated forklifts,” she said as she inched her way up to the next shelf. “But I guess they all emancipated themselves during the Uprising.”

  He figured she was right.

  “Too bad,” she continued, “they would’ve come in handy now, instead of me risking my ass.”

  “Be careful,” he called.

  She ascended another shelf, and her boots were now ten feet off the floor. “I used to climb apple trees when I was a kid,” she yelled down. “But it’s been years. You’re lucky I’m not afraid of heights.”

  A bright flash lit the edge of his infrared vision. There was a large rat lurking on a nearby shelf. More than one. “Oh no!” he blurted out.

  Above, Nova hesitated and craned her neck to peer down. “What?”

  Should he alert her to the rat’s presence? There was a large nest on the top shelf opposite the diaper boxes, but she might panic, judging by her previous reaction.

  “Block, what’s happening down there?”

  But he couldn’t lie, either. “You’re getting close… Just a little farther. I think you should slide a bit to the left.”

  “To the left? Why? I’m doing fine right here.”

  She had climbed another two shelves, and her hand was mere inches from the edge of the diaper crate. “Clear a space,” she warned. “I’m going to drop this sucker.”

  She shifted her weight onto her left leg, sliding closer to the diapers, balancing herself in order to firmly grasp the corner of the bundle. Then she slid the rectangular container, yanking it forward. The curious rats scurried closer, heading straight for Nova.

  “Uh…” He should say something. He really should, but…

  “Heavier than it looks.” Struggling, she inched the bundle forward. “Almost got it,” she grunted. “You ready down there?”

  “Ready,” Block called.

  “Bombs away!” she shouted, and sent the top-heavy box plummeting down. It landed with a booming thud, sending a dust cloud into the air.

  Nova whooped in victory, and had just started to descend when the rats reached her.

  25

  “What’s that noise? Block? I can’t see up here.”

  He shone the light like a spotlight on Nova as she clung to the top of the Costco’s shelving unit.

  “Holy shit!” she shrieked as the rats raced toward her—the scuttling, scraping sound of their claws was unmistakable.

  “Stay calm!” Block called. “They won’t hurt you. They’re just curious. You’ve disturbed their nest.”

  “Oh my God oh my God oh my God!” She screeched and yanked her hand away. “It bit me!”

  That was unexpected. Perhaps the rats were defending their territory. Still perched near the top shelf twenty-five feet above, Nova’s body pivoted to the left as she scrambled to find her footing while dangling with her left hand.

  “Careful, Nova!” He didn’t like the way she was clinging to the ledge.

  “Oh God, I’m going to fall!” she cried.

  The impact would break her limbs. “Hang on! All you have to do is climb down slowly. Away from the rats.” He could see the heat trails of four or five rats peering at Nova from the top shelf where the diapers had been. They were still—for now.

  Her voice was high-pitched and strained. “Oh God, oh God.”

  “Nova,” he said. “Reach your right hand up and grasp the shelf just in front of you.” The next level was far enough from the rats to be safe unless they changed the
ir minds and followed her down. After a few seconds, she found a spot for her right hand.

  “Are you holding on?” he asked.

  “Yeah—yes.”

  “Good. Now, lower your left hand down to the next shelf. And inch your way down. You can do this. Focus on climbing down.”

  She trembled as she gingerly moved first a hand, then a foot.

  “Good!” Block cheered as she descended to the third shelf. “You’re doing it.” In the darkness, his night vision caught a small flare as some of the rats above her shifted. Two persistent rats crept over the ledge and onto the middle column where the two towering shelving units met—right where Nova was balanced.

  “Keep your eyes focused in front of you.” He hoped she wouldn’t notice the rats descending. But she looked up.

  “Oh my God. They’re climbing down. Chasing me!”

  “They’re just curious about where you’re going,” he offered.

  She seemed frozen in place, unmoving, yet still too high to jump. “Get me off of here!” she screamed.

  “Slide, Nova! Can you slide down?” Hyperventilating, she shifted her feet so her steel-toed boots balanced against the middle column. Then she wrapped her palms around the pillar and slid down one shelf level. Then she quickly transferred her hands to the next and slid down all the way, jumping off at the lowest shelf which was only five feet off the ground.

  “You made it!” Block yelled, clapping Nova on the back, distracted from the rats.

  She stood, trying to calm her rapid, stilted breathing when one of the rats dropped three feet and landed on her shoulder. Her howl echoed across the vacant store and she twisted, slamming her back against the shelf and flailing her arms. “Get it off me, get it off!” She spun, pinwheeling her arms, yet the rat clung to her middle back; Block stepped over and swiped it away, sending it crashing to the ground where it rolled over and scurried away down the dark aisle.

  Still, Nova thrashed about like a person possessed.

  “It’s gone,” he said. Her breath was ragged; sweat dripped down her cheeks and matted her hair. Backing away from the rat-infested shelf, she wrapped her arms across her chest. As she kept struggling to breathe, she said, “Get out. We have to… get… out.”