Author Archives: John Saye

About John Saye

Servicing you with novels and garbled discourse based on my impressions of shows, movies, books, story structure, and whatever else I can get into.

A lone astronaut stands on an alien planet with dense vegetation, facing a massive reptilian creature. Behind him, the remains of a crashed spaceship smolder, hinting at an uncertain fate on this mysterious world.

Longevity, Chapter 7: 2800

Longevity and Other Stories
A life without end,
stars call from the endless night,
time slips through our hands.
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This is a draft version of a chapter from John Saye’s book, Longevity and Other Stories. If you are daring, why not subscribe to my newsletter (they come few and far between), and I’ll send you a PDF copy of the book?

I sat on the edge of my seat, well it’s a throne, made of white marble, and edged in gold in what’s called the Halls of Mars. It’s not on Mars, actually on Venus, but that hardly matters at this stage. The Hall is giant and built into the side of a mountain, dug out like a giant ice cream scooper that came down from the sky and carved out a great bowl straight from the rock on the mountain’s side.

The opening was covered with stained glass. Heavy, thick stained glass, and it was reinforced to keep the Venusian atmosphere at bay, which it did a wonderful job of, even though you couldn’t see out the window at all. Deep in the confines of the cave were vast works of iron and steel, and air conditioners that kept everything breathable as well as light and frosty, even though the temperatures outside would kill you in a heartbeat.

I liked the glass, but the throne had gotten to be a little too much lately. I might have to downgrade to the one made of wood with the lion’s head carved into the back. That and a nice pillow or something. Something springy. Springy and nice.

The stained glass left the floor, and everyone else was covered in a twisted pattern of blue and orange squares all the time.

I should have that replaced. Then again, why mess with it just when I’m enjoying it?

I could call for one of my wives, or husbands. Of course, since I came to power, it’s been mandatory for all planetary leaders to take up at least seventeen wives, and to have as many children as humanly possible. I think right now I’m up to a hundred and thirty-five, but I’ve lost count.

The problem with living this long is that eventually, everyone is in power. It wasn’t long before just stayed in the same spot long enough. I became a council elder, and not long beyond that, a mere fifty years, I was the local high priest. It wasn’t a terrible job. Among the first thought about getting the treatment, I’m perpetually older than almost everyone that I know. You’d think they’d oust me and tie me up and let me live on an asteroid somewhere just for being as dang strange as I am all the time. No one even likes my funny hat. Seriously, I should just quit and become a hermit living in the south of Los Angeles Proper.

There was a knock at my chamber door.

I turned and Bill, my butler I suppose, though that’s only close to what he does come in, with two of my wives with him. Angela and Carmen laid into me about the statue of Venus. I thought they were here for something else.

I could hear them. The words were passing my ears. I could feel their hot breath and feel the tiny raindrops of spittle that were spewing forth as a fine mist. The words were there, pounding on my eardrums and I could not hear what they were. After a few moments, they came to a halt, apparently waiting for some kind of reply from me, and I didn’t have one for them. They huffed and caught their breath. Their breasts heaved a little, but it didn’t phase me.

I waited until they had stopped, and then I turned to them. I kissed Angela on the lips, hugged her, and told her I would think about it. Whatever it was. I’d heard her, which I hadn’t, and I would take her advice as if it was from one of my closest advisers, which, of course, it was.

Carmen, I took them into my arms in a huge embrace and told her I loved her and that I treasured every hair on her head. I took off my hat, a fuzzy thing with a random number of horns on it, put it on her head and hugged her again before returning to my marble throne where I told them I would carefully consider everything they had said to me, whatever it was, then I posed in a very thoughtful position, and said “Hmm” a lot and closed my eyes occasionally and shook my head every once in a while, until that no longer seemed sincere, which it wasn’t. Then I curled up, my feet tucked under me, and pretended to meditate on their complaints until they all eventually went away and I was left alone.

But then, I was never alone.

I saw them beside me.

They were always there.

They stood, seven feet tall, dark green bipedal life forms, totally smooth on their surface, and uniform.

They turned their faceless faces toward me, and I could feel their minds working their way into mine. They were giving me a chance to breathe and speak my mind, which they only did when they wanted something from me.

I could feel their questions in my mind.

Who were they?

“They are two of my wives?”

What do they want?

“I don’t know. I couldn’t hear them with you controlling my mind.”

I fell to the ground.

Their thoughts bore into me, and it was hard to take after a couple of minutes.

When will you give the next order?

“Whenever you want, you’re in control already, aren’t you?”

My body fell, twitching.

I pushed up on my elbows, but they gave out.

One of them broke from the pressure of one of their minds alone as I pushed up again.

I let it lay face down on the ground.

They forced me to sit up.

We have work to do.

I already knew that, though.

Soon I was on my feet, and walking toward the hallway outside my chamber. They were invisible to everyone else, but each was in control of my next right and left steps.

They guided me into my shuttle, and I took the controls.

Soon I was airborne, lifting my little craft over the clouds of Venus.

Behind me, the two creatures sat in the rear seats. I could do nothing to turn my head and see them. Instead, I just piloted the little craft up over the city. Over the years we’d raised an enormous dome over it, and though the clouds surrounded us in a sickly sky all the time, the land beneath it was lush and beautiful and green. We rose closer and closer to the stained glass canopy that covered the capital and I pressed forward as I got closer and closer to it until we broke through, glass shattering all around me.

I zoomed up into the sky over Venus and sped through the clouds until I could see nothing else. I gunned it, swerved around, and then came through them and out over the open sky. I must be up really high.

“What do you want?”

We want everything.

“Why do you care?”

Because you do.

“Where are you from? Why do you want any of it?”

They were silent.

I pressed forward. It wasn’t the first time they’d taken me on a trip like this.

Ahead of me, I could see the dawn coming up. Before long, I’d be in virtual darkness. Below me, any of my cities would be so far under the clouds that you’d never see the lights from them. Maybe a glimmer or a slight glow from them, but nothing like seeing a city from orbit on the Earth.

My comm opened up with a burst of static.

“Sir, is that you up there?”

I touched the controls like nothing was happening.

“Yep, just me, up for a brief flight.”

“Very well, sir. You keep us informed if you need anything.”

“I’ll do that,” I said and switched it off.

I burned through the clouds, which whipped around me and did a barrel roll before turning the ship towards space and flying out into the stars, where I saw them approaching for the first time.

There would be no warning.

They have arranged a series of battle cruisers, both from Earth and from Mars. They were here to wipe us out.

My little black ship went unnoticed, but the patrol ship behind me, who had recognized me earlier, was more clearly marked, and when they opened fire, he was their first target.

They swooped down. The earth ships were bulky, but full of fighters that whipped this way and that, and ran screaming down onto the planet to destroy my cities.

The Martian ships were more specialized. They weren’t creatures of mars as they were the descendants of Human settlers like Venus was.

My home, at least now anyway.

The Martians had huge gas vacuum ships I’ve seen used out on the gas giants, and they were sucking up Venus’s atmosphere. Then they waited for the fighters to fly in and bomb the city and take out my defense towers before the gunships rained down on them with death beams that finished them.

I could only watch.

I only had this flier. It wouldn’t make it even back to Earth. I flew it over to the command ship, a long and dangerous vessel, covered in spikes and turrets, and landed it in the main hanger, right in the middle.

I watched as my little one-man flier was surrounded by army and navy troops. Guns up. Alert. Ready to kill.

I opened the hatch.

Certainly, they were expecting a single mercenary or something.

When they saw it was me, all their guns faltered.

Below us, my planet was coming to a swift end. The war, if it could be called less than genocide, was the end of my people. People who had traveled with me from the beginning when no one thought anything could live there were all dying. Some of them, many of them hundreds of years old.

I was the first and the last of us.

They lowered their weapons.

I stepped down the ladder, and walked through them like they were nothing, and marched up to the control deck. I knew where it was. I’d designed the ship.

Before I could get there, Garrison was running down the ladder.

“Jacob!”

He grabbed me in an embrace.

“Jacob, you weren’t down there!”

I grabbed him by the neck and hugged my cousin. He was out of breath.

He tugged me up to the command deck.

When I walked into it, everyone ducked. They dived under their desks and knocked over the furniture. I strode in, with Garrison behind me. Everyone jumped to salute him. Clearly in charge.

When I turned around, he was kneeling before me.

“Jacob. I can’t sit by while they do this here.”

“What?”

“I surrender to you.”

He held out his pistol to me, a small beam weapon. Nice and deadly.

“I accept.”

“You know the custom, then.”

“I do.”

Garrison fell to the deck after I fired the weapon.

The crew looked at me.

“You can join me, or you can get out. Your choice.”

I kept about half the crew.

The other half got into pods and shot out, and were quickly picked off by the surrounding ships, who must have realized what was going on by now.

The battle below was all but over already.

We fired, taking out one of the larger ships where we concentrated our firepower.

We took damage, and the armor on the ship was pretty much toast, but it was still worthy of travel, so I ordered a jump. We needed to get far out and quickly. Then perhaps we’d survive.

They were about to surround us when we jumped. In a flash of light, we left them all behind. We were supposed to be out near Jupiter. Instead, we were closer to the orbit of Pluto, but it wouldn’t be here for another couple of years yet. Then I realized I was wrong. We hadn’t gone out into the solar system. If there was an up and a down to the celestial disk where our planets all rotated, we had gone as far up as anyone had ever gone, and then some.

The sun was nothing more than a spec, and all around us was nothing.

In the months that followed, I tooled around as best I could, mostly avoiding the government ships. Venus was no more, and I wasn’t that much better off. I blasted out into the outer planets and spent a good deal of time orbiting Neptune, where no one wanted to go. There was little left for me on Earth, nothing on Mars, and a destroyed colony for me on Venus. I couldn’t deal with it anymore. I was just ready to leave. I’d seen what I wanted to see, and I’d done more than I could think of to do, and that’s when the idea hit me to just leave the solar system altogether. There wasn’t anything left for me.

I knew others might feel the same way. I discussed my ideas with the crew, and they were interested, but fewer of them wanted to stay, and I couldn’t blame them. I let most of them off on Titan and sent out the call. There weren’t any actual laws out on Titan yet, and no one was gunning for me here. Most of the people back on Earth thought I was dead, but the governments and leaders knew better. Not because they had intelligence on me or anything, but because I called and offered to give them back their spacecraft. I did it on a couple of occasions while we were in the dock at Neptune, and nobody wanted to spend the money on the fuel to get out there to get me.

I can say I tried, though, and that was enough for me.

The creatures in the background were still buzzing around, and one day, I just had it out with them.

I told them to get out of my life and leave me alone.

They said they wanted to show me something very interesting, but we couldn’t quite get there yet.

I told them to get to the point, or I was through with them for good.

They agreed to upgrade the engines and sent in a couple of technicians to help me take care of it.

I said to prove it, and they did.

That was when I lost almost everyone else.

I was virtually alone on the ship. Sensors could still pick up a couple of people, that were scattered here and there. I chose not to force them off the ship or to seek them out. I just checked on them every once in a while, and occasionally I’d use the ship’s comm system to call out to them and tell them that the kitchens on the fifth and sixth decks had been restocked for them.

They never went up too fast, but they always did. There were probably ten or fifteen in total aboard besides me, but I never saw them.

They came aboard, in a small shuttle, and brought in a new engine, silver and bright, and they would only ever say “because we want to show you something,” when I asked them.

One thing you could still die from as a practically immortal being was starvation, and I would forget to eat, all the time watching them install the new engines. The retrofit took about three years, and while I was stranded on Neptune, I took to watching the surface of the giant. I called it watching the ocean, because of the ways the bands swirled around each other. I took readings, did an analysis, and used all the instruments that were left working on the ship. I also ate a lot of takeout food from a local space station. Even after a while, your synthetic kitchens are no good anymore, and you have to eat something else.

One morning, I walked down to the bridge to hop in the hammock I’d put up in there, and they were standing there.

It’s time, they thought.

“We can run it now?”

Yes.

“Let’s do it then.”

I sat down in the captain’s chair and let them do their thing. They hit knobs, and opened switches, and turned dials, and the whole place lit up. We pulled out of the space station, and the ship turned towards the starry sky of space, where we could no longer see anything of Neptune but a faint blue from behind us, and they turned on the new drive.

Around me, the night sky blazed into a million streaming points of light. The ship was breaking apart. The whole place was shaking and rattling, and spinning in every direction as we sped by the stars at speeds that were supposed to be impossible. If it’s one thing that is true, it’s that saying something is a limit on how fast you can go is like telling a cat that they don’t like tuna sandwiches. It’s just not helpful, and nobody likes it, and somebody is always going to be out to prove you wrong.

We came to a halt, all the stars came back into place, and though I couldn’t recognize the patterns anymore, all became still.

Then I realized that I’d been standing for the entire flight in the same place as if I bolted my feet to the floor.

I looked down, and my clothes looked brittle and dusty like I was some kind of exhibit, then I reached down and found the long beard attached to my face, easily two and a half, maybe three feet long in places, and stark white.

I threw up on the deck, and fell flat on my face, and learned how to breathe again.

When I pushed myself up, they were standing there before me again.

“Are we there?”

We are close.

“Where are we?”

Look.

I looked out the windows of the bridge and below us was a huge alien planet, lush with vegetation.

“Can we land?”

They nodded and then vanished.

I commanded the ship to land, and it found a suitable spot, and glided down into the atmosphere, shaking all the way.

As I stepped off the platform onto the planet’s surface, I heard them say in my ear. “You can never go back.”

The ship could no longer handle its weight and cracked, and busted and fall apart behind me.

Turning, without so much as a lunch box, I found myself face to face with what I always imagined a dinosaur would look like.

It scratched the ground with its talons and charged.

Standard-Issue Partner, Chapter 10

Standard-Issue Partner
Neon lights flicker,
Machines replace flesh and bone,
Trust must still be earned.
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This is a draft version of a chapter from John Saye’s book, Standard-Issue Partner.

Flint turned to the controls of his pod and settled in. He could see the Earth ahead of him, it’s blue oceans filling his field of view. He could see part of Europe and part of North America. He wondered what it might have been like to live before the meteor impact that had taken out so much of the world. He could see, across the face of what used to be the United States, a huge crater that was all lit up like it was a grand experiment of some kind. He watched as the night side came up and the entire central city was illuminated like a great disc, made of a thousand lights. He watched it for a while. He knew the stories of the great asteroid that had almost destroyed humanity and culture on this tiny little planet, but several asteroids had hit at once. It was only for the digital age that humanity had survived. They still had all the records of mankind’s achievements, so there was no real knowledge lost.

It was a grand catastrophe. Once everything had settled they began to rebuild the cities, but the richest, most fertile land was always in the middle of the craters that had scattered across the continents, and the outlying regions were wastelands where nothing would grow.

It seemed oddly peaceful from up here, all alone in the vacuum of space.

Flint nudged one of the controls on his tiny space vessel. It increased the speed by ten percent, but you couldn’t tell the difference by just eyeballing anything.

He settled back and adjusted his chair. It would be a long way home, especially without anything to read or do. He adjusted his chair, and pulled a pillow from an extra compartment to his left, and closed his eyes.

The silent stream of air from the tanks, and a quick check to determine that there was enough satisfied him, and he allowed his eyes to close again, and drift off, listening to the intake valves and the air conditioning. Otherwise, all was totally quiet.

When he awoke the ship was rocking this way and that and he seemed to be upside down. He looked ahead of him, and his field of vision was filled with blue ocean water. A fish flitted past the window, and then suddenly he could see the sky. He had flipped over again. In his view, he could see a magnetic crane that seemed to be pulling his entire escape pod from the water, and powerlifting him up onto the deck of a large boat.

It dropped him on the deck with a clunk, and the pod began to roll over and over as it headed for the edge. It slowed to a stop, and Flint could hear a large number of people all around him. They popped off the explosive bolts on the hatchway, and let Flint out.

“Sir, are you all right?”

Flint nodded to them and made his way over to the bridge of the vessel. A guard let him through, and waiting for him, inside the warmth of the small command center was the Chief.

Flint raised his eyebrows and greeted the Chief.

“Glad to have you back Flint.”

“Glad to be back. Is there a flight off of this ship?”

“We’ll be on our way in just a moment. Flint?”

“I got them.”

“And Roman?”

“Dead. I tried to save him.”

“We’re beginning to take another plan of attack on the robots Flint, you may have been right. I don’t think we can use them as partners anymore.”

“I’m not so sure about that. Simon’s been a great help. I think there’s room enough for all, let’s just not restrict all partners to human/robot status. There’s got to be a mix.”

“You may be right.”

“Let’s get off this can, and back to the city. I want to see that Simon is properly restored, and get on with my life here.”

“There’s one more thing before we can go back.”

“What?”

The chief turned to the door and called for her.

Dianne came bounding in, she looked a mess. She took Flint by the arms and hugged him, and kissed him.

“How can I tell you are real?”

“How can I tell you are either?” She smacked him on the head and kissed him again. Eyes were closed and satisfaction granted.

They returned to the city center, and Flint to the police tower. Simon was sitting up and seemed to be in a good mood.

“When are they going to let you out of here?”

Simon sat up. “I can go as soon as I’m ready.”

There were monitors stationed around the room that were noting the progress of Simon’s refurbishment. They all said one hundred percent complete.

“What happened to Roman?”

“Died.”

“Pity, I was hoping to give him one more chomp for the last time.”

“I know.”

They poured over reconnaissance photos of the moon base where Roman was planning the outward expansion of the human race through robotics.

“So it was all about getting off the planet,” said Simon.

“Do you think there’s any life out there?”

“No.”

“I don’t know. There should be. Do you think we’ll ever find it?”

“No.”

They reported to the Chief, fresh for the next day, but everything had taken on a glazed look as if someone had put a fuzzy cloud over their world.

Simon got the drinks this time. He brought Simon what was basically a drink cup full of gasoline, oil, and other chemicals he needed to keep his body strong, though it looked like perfectly normal lemonade. They laughed over their lunch, Simon slurping down the strange concoction, and Flint choking down a sandwich.

Something beeped.

Flint checked his pocket.

“It’s the chief.”

Simon nodded, and they made their way from the little courtyard up to the Chief’s office. The chief flicked on a video display.

“We noticed here last night after you were rescued, that there was a serious amount of activity in this part of the city. I thought you’d like the first crack at it.”

“We’ll take it, sir,” said Simon.”

“Good to hear.”

“Sir?” asked Flint.

“Yes?”

“About Dianne.”

“For another time.”

Flint and Simon stepped into their car and buzzed over to that side of the city, and notice right off that several of the buildings had been knocked down.

He parked it on the side of the building and set it so that he and Simon could watch. He turned on the sensors and turned on the video displays so that they could get the best possible angle.

Below them, robots were steadily working. There were new robots, and old models, working together. They seemed to be building something, but it was unclear what.

Much of whatever it was was under wraps, and it looked as if much of the day’s activity was already over. Storm clouds hung in the sky, and it began to rain. Positioned as he was, the rain was falling in sheets all the way around them. It was next to impossible to see anything, save for what was coming in on the monitors. They shout out several tiny robotic spy cameras and sent them to get a better look at the object.

The little camera bots whizzed around through the rain, which really just returned a rain-soaked sky for an image, and then they were under it, poking holes in the covered mass’s cover, and slipping inside.

“Damn! There he is!”

The monitors had picked up Roman again.

“Thermal imaging says it’s the real Roman,” said Simon.

“Not possible. He was destroyed on the moon.”

“There he is though.”

“Check a bio-scan on him. I want to check for any kind of abnormality.”

“Like a mechanical hand?”

“Like anything.”

Simon performed the check and looked up.

“What?”

Simon shook his head.

“Come on, what?”

“It’s the age.”

“How is that a problem?”

“He’s only six.”

“But he’s full-grown already!”

“That means…”

Flint shook his head. “Cloners.”

“Yep. Cloners.”

“Christ.”

“We can’t blow them apart.”

“I wonder what they want.”

“Look there’s three or four more of them.”

“And one of me.”

“What?”

“Look.”

One the screen, next to three of the Romans was a clear Flint clone looking around, and calmly taking orders.

“In no way, shape or form is this okay.”

“They’ll get us from the inside out.”

“Never a worse way to go.”

“We have to take them out, to stop them in their tracks.”

“I know.”

“How are we going to get down there?”

“We’re going to walk right in.”

“Walk in, are you crazy?”

“Nope. it’s the easiest way.”

They lowered the air car and piloted it out into the rain. Water splashed all around them and forced them to fly by their instruments. They sailed down in the nasty weather and landed the a few alleys away.

“I hope this works,” said Simon.

“It’s better than going in stolen uniforms.”

They made their way into the tent and worked their way into the crowd.

Roman stood at the head of the group, a group of about a thousand combined robots, humans, and clones. He tapped on the microphone.

“Gentlemen, ladies, I welcome you all. We’ve had a minor setback and in the interests of time, I am assured that we will all make a hasty journey to the moon this go around. Seeking only friendship and peace with the rest of our kind, I am sure that this will be something we can all share and enjoy.”

He rifled through papers on his podium.

“We have had a minor setback, in that the first expedition has failed to make it to the landing site, but I can assure you that the next one will not fail. I am here to uncover and dedicate the second chance. It’s a rocket ship designed to make it to the moon. From there we will be able to get on with the business of getting on into the galaxy and out into the stars.”

He checked his notes again.

“It is for this momentous occasion that I will pull the ceremonial veil away to show you the craft of the future.”

He raised his arms, and Flint could see the sheer size of the thing. Behind Roman, it must be taking up an entire office block. A grand gray curtain fell across it, and there was a single tassel, which seemed to be connected to a series of pulleys and other knots. Roman pulled at the tassel, and the curtain fell away. A gigantic craft appeared in the moonlight, covered in the falling rain. It stood a hundred feet tall, and gleaming white. It was covered in guns.

“The thing is,” said Roman, we could never make the thing fly, so it’s time to take this city down!”

Every porthole on the ship opened, and every missile bay slid aside, and Flint and Simon pointed their grapple guns to the middle of the ship, to a port that looked highly accessible and shot into the sky. They slung forward through the rain, and landed on the ship, quickly ducking inside. The rain was pouring outside, and the people, robot or not were starting to riot. They flung themselves forward into the throngs as what was left of the ship above them began to swivel and teeter as it raised and lowered its guns and missiles around, targeting all the buildings around them.

The ship was massive, the size of a skyscraper, and yet the people below didn’t seem to know what to do.

Roman stormed into the craft and started climbing up.

Flint and Simon were already planting charges. Flint would toss them to Simon, and Simon to Flint and they clinked them onto the walls as they made their way down into the ship toward the street.

Dianne burst through the door.

Simon scanned her.

“Flint!” she said.

“Simon?” said Flint.

“Robot,” said Simon.

Flint and Simon took turns and shot her with an electrical device that stunned her and dropped her to the ground.

Another gang came in, and started trying to pull the charges off the wall. One of them peeled a charge from the wall and it just went off. The explosion blew a hole through the side of the building and the remains of that squad shot out in a spurt of flame.

Flint and Simon continued, making their way down into the ship, which was beginning to swivel and turn, and fire at the buildings around it. One of the buildings took a hit and toppled to the ground.

Flint slid down a passageway set of stairs that had been built for sliding. They were steep. He held the handrails in his hands and slid down. Simon took a jump and landed next to him.

They pulled their pistols and found themselves in a room devoted to the bashing of the other buildings. Several major cannons were set up in here and manned by robots. They were currently pounding on the buildings around them.

Flint and Simon started with the pistols, cutting the heads off of the robots who were doing the shooting.

They fell to the floor, but the cannons didn’t do anything to stop. They kept firing on automatic. Flint and Simon began spreading the charges around in here, sticking them to everything that they could think of. A few well-placed laser shots, and the machines began to fire on themselves.

Flint and Simon took the ladder down. It was only a moment of time before the whole place went up, as many charges as they have dropped. Above them, they could hear the explosions as the first started to go off on their own.

They landed, and before them it was cold. Their breath stood out before them, even though Simon was now simulated. They looked around. The explosions and fire were about to take the whole place down around them.

“There!” said Simon.

“What?”

“The door.”

Before them was a great steel door that looked like it went back into the buildings beyond. Flint took his remote and detonated all the remaining charges. The ship went up and exploded in a fireball. It crumpled to the ground and sent everyone who could still move screaming.

They pushed open the steel door and behind it lay the cold room. Everything in it was ice blue and totally frozen. There were honeycombs in the walls where it looked like clones were in the process of being developed. They all had Roman’s face.

In the center of the mass was a table, the only thing in the room which seemed to be warmed in any way, and sitting on it, was the crumpled form of Roman. Except he wasn’t the Roman they all knew. He was old. The oldest person that Flint had ever seen.

Was he three hundred, possibly four hundred?

It was little more than a shriveled mass of flesh. The face was right, the smile, certainly the teeth, but the rest was nothing more than the goo of oozing flesh.

It coughed.

Flint and Simon splayed flashlights out upon it and looked him up and down.

The figure coughed again and spat, but it didn’t make it very far. The puss just oozed off and dribbled down the corner of his mouth. It held a cigarette to its mouth and pulled on it. It looked like it could barely move its legs. The feet looked tiny and shrunken. The eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets. They were very white in comparison to the rest of the body, the skin, which was all a gray powder color that seemed to fill the very air with the soot of tobacco all by itself.

“Well?” it said.

“Roman?”

“You guessed it.”

“But I, I mean we…”

“I know, You’ve been chasing my clones all over this continent and out into space, and never realized you were dealing with clones, and not just androids.”

They sat at the creeping thing’s side.

“True. We couldn’t let anyone abuse the android system like that.”

“I totally agree, which is why we almost slipped the cloning bit passed you.”

The ancient Roman coughed, again, and held the cigarette to its mouth.

“We’re going to have to take you in, I hope you know that.”

“Yes, yes, your civic duty. I know. I used to be a cop myself, of course, that was in a different time, before the asteroids.”

“You were alive before the asteroids?”

“Didn’t I just say that?”

The old Roman reached out and smacked Flint. It was not the best feeling in the world. It was much like being slapped with an old banana peel.

Flint pulled back and looked around.

“You’re not going to take me though.”

Simon perked up at that. “We’re not, are we?”

“No, you see. I think my clones will have something to say about that.”

The clone chambers began to open, and the contents started to ooze out and hit the floor. They all looked like lean and mean adult versions of Roman. They popped their knuckles, and their necks, and leaned in to do some real pounding while the table on which the older Roman was sitting began to slowly lower itself into the floor.

“You take these clones, I’m going after laughing boy there,” said Flint.

Simon nodded and began to shoot the clones. His laser cut through them almost too easily.

Flint leaped over the clones that remained, using his grapple and landed right on the platform lowering into the floor.

“Hey!” cried the older Roman.

“Hey, nothing!” Flint put his fist through the old man’s face, and pulled the unconscious form up and hoisted it into the room. He carried it over to Simon, who had just finished off the last of the clones.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Together they took the elder Roman up and out of the remains of the ship, which was currently on fire and in the process of being dowsed by the local firemen, who hovered in their fire trucks near the scene.

They took the air car and delivered the limp body of Roman to the police.

An hour later they convened near the same cell they had the other Roman in earlier. The elder Roman sat in the cell, smoking, and coughing. On the other side of the glass stood the chief, and Flint and Simon.

“I was a cop once,” said Roman.

They sat down and listened to him.

“I was once a cop when this was the land of plenty before the asteroids came. It was a long time ago.”

“How old are you?” asked Flint.

“I am over five hundred years old. Of course, the records are not that clear during the aftermath of the asteroids. We were not very careful at that time. It was all about survival at that point, wasn’t it?”

Simon stepped forward. “What was it like before the asteroids?”

“It’s actually pretty hard to remember these days. None of it really comes to very much. I think it was hardest to see the differences because everything is so vertical now. Back then everything was about stretching out and getting to the next frontier. Now we’ve built skyscrapers that almost touch space, but we can’t spread out, there are just these few pockets of land here and there that are useful. Ironic that it’s just the areas where the asteroids hit that are habitable, of course, it’s really not that bad around outside these big cities nowadays. It’s evening out nice. It won’t be long before you’ll be able to expand again and get everything you need from this planet, but it doesn’t change the fact that we should be exploring, and exploring right. There shouldn’t be a planet or a moon in this solar system that hasn’t been explored. There is life out there you know.”

The chief responded, “He’s right, we just never looked.”

“Yes, life, and it’s a strange lot to find.”

“Have you seen it?” asked Flint.

“No, but I’ve felt it. Felt it coming. And it’s not far off.”

He coughed again.

“Not long now. Not long before they come.”

He breathed. It was a raspy sort of a thing.

“Not long.”

He died.

They were out in the air car. It was a normal day, by all standards that were normal. The sun was shining, the city was starting to escape its borders a little bit, and the buildings were as clean and streak-free as they could be. Simon and Flint surveyed in the landscape.

“What do you think?” asked Flint.

“About the old guy?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know. I think it’s pretty slim Pickens out there. I think that there’s got to be life, but what is life anyway, I mean look at me, I’m a robot aren’t I?”

“I know, but I mean what about other planets, other solar systems, other worlds, do you think all of that exists?”

“Sure, but I think that if there is life out there in the galaxy, it’s likely not to be half as weird as we are.”

“I suppose that could be true.”

“It’s getting cold.”

“But it’s still sunny.”

“I know, that’s the strangest part about it.”

Somewhere in the sky Alib looked to Bilbnib as they were enjoying a nice spot of fresh parsip , and looked over their controls. It had been a dirty night, and they had been trudging through the stars for years at this point. They were beginning to wonder what the point of it all was when a blip came across their tracker.

“What’s this?” asked Alib. He stroked his many fingered hands and put down his cup of parsip with his second off-hand.

“I’m not sure.”

“Could it be life?”

“Intelligent life?”

“We’ve seen life before.”

“It’s probably just another world of polar bears again.”

“True, that seems to be the norm in this part of space.”

“Is it worth checking?”

“Anything is worth checking.”

They flitted by, and zoomed by the Earth, sliding through the atmosphere, and down over the cities. They glided over and through the central city.

Not a creature on the Earth could see them. Their ship, perfectly cloaked, swung low and managed to scrape the surface of the earth, gathering data as it went, It took a profile of the creatures of the Earth. It cataloged everything it could find. Every flora and fauna the world had available was scanned, tested, theorized about and dropped back into place.

Bilbnib sighed and checked the earth off of his list. He was disappointed to be sure, but that was no real reason to fret. He was sure that given a few thousand more years the humans might have a chance.

“Then again, there’s still hope for the polar bears down there,” said Alib.

Bilbnib broke his pencil and tossed it across the room.

Simon and Flint lowered the air car down to the frozen tundra, near a group of polar bears. Simon wasn’t concerned, but Flint was wearing a massive blue parka and looking out onto the tundra with his binoculars.

“Simon, you have that scan done?”

“Yeah, there’s about fifteen of them in this group.”

“And you think there’s something out there?”

“It was on the scanners. I think we’re looking for something really special.”

Flint looked around. The snow stretched as far as he could see.

“I don’t see anything.”

“It’s out there.”

They watched the field as the polar bears moved around in the sun. One of them turned over on its back and rolled over. It basked in the sun, and searched the skies, rubbing its back on the snow and ice beneath it.

The ice cracked.

The polar bear turned up and scurried off, as much as one of those critters can get away with, and below it, in the ice, Flint could see it.

“There it is.”

Under the ice, a shape began to appear. At first, it was just a shadow, and then as the ice around it began to melt and crack. A moment or two later, and the shadow grew to a towering pillar of ice and mangled metal. It blew the ground away, sending shards of ice and snow in all directions.

With a subtle shift in the surface of the Earth, the tower began to glow a soft blue, and at its base was a door.

Flint and Simon hiked down to the base of the tower. At the tower’s base, there stood a great door adorned with faces of every kind, style, and predisposition. Some of the faces were filled with teeth, others were adorned with several eyes. Others were covered in fur or scales.

Simon reached out to touch one of the faces.

Flint grabbed his hand and pulled it back.

Simon looked over the faces and examined them.

Flint took a step forward, and the doors slid open.

They both took a step back.

Inside it was dark.

Flint held a communicator to his ear. “We’re going in.”

They stepped through the door and the tower closed behind them.

Standard-Issue Partner, Chapter 9

Standard-Issue Partner
Neon lights flicker,
Machines replace flesh and bone,
Trust must still be earned.
Buy Yours Here:
Amazon - Books2Read

This is a draft version of a chapter from John Saye’s book, Standard-Issue Partner.

Flint and Roman fell through the air. Flint was yelling, and Roman was laughing.

The ship must have been on the move because there was now a serious amount of space between them and the ground. For a moment Flint thought he could see the curvature of the Earth.

Roman was diving like an Olympic athlete. He shot towards the ground like an arrow.

Flint was flailing and rolling head over heels, and screaming at the top of his lungs. He managed to pull a small control from his pocket, and activate it. Could the car reach him at this distance? He had the faint notion that Simon was saying something to him in his ear, but there was no way he could hear anything at this speed. He just concentrated on Roman and trying to breathe. It was terribly cold, or was that the wind?

He watched as the ground loomed before him. He wondered for a moment if this was what it looked like to an apple or an orange before it hit the ground. He looked around and saw Roman. He was falling beside him but staying uncharacteristically still. He seemed to have gone into some sort of coma or catatonic state. He fell there and watched as Roman raised his arms and grabbed hold of a passing speeder bike. It rushed him away as quick as thinking. Flint looked around him. If his car didn’t catch up with him soon, it was all over. It would only take a moment or two longer before he was flat, quite literally flat.

In his ear, he could hear a slight buzzing. It sounded vaguely like Simon’s voice, and then he was in the car. It had swooped underneath him and carried him away.

“Simon?”

“Yes?”

Flint looked a the bank of computer screens in the front of his car and righted himself in the seat. From one of the monitors was the vague shape of Simon’s head.

“Have you got control of the car?”

“That I have.”

He pulled them up and headed back toward the lumbering ship above them, making its way toward city central.

“Then let’s get after them!”

“I think I already have.”

“Flint strapped himself in, and took the wheel.”

“Nope, I think I’m good on this one.” Simon looked to Flint from the console.

Flint thought about it for a moment. Let him do it.

“Yeah, take us up.”

“Good. Get ready to jump. I’ll get you as close to the ship as possible.”

“Yeah, get me over there.”

“It might be a good idea to look under the seat at this time.”

“The seat?”

“To the secondary stash. I think you’re out of ammo at the moment aren’t you?”

“Yeah, come to think of it.”

Flint lifted the passenger seat and poured over the contents of the small hidden compartment while Simon took them up and up. Flint could see Roman zigzagging all over the place, trying to avoid him.

“Keep him in sight,” said Flint.

“Will do.” Simon poured on the speed. They were dodging through blaster fire and missiles now as they got closer to the ship.

“Any second now,” said Simon.

“Yeah, almost there.”

Flint pulled two extra grapple guns from the recess and a small hand laser that fitted onto his index finger. He also took a small collection of grenades, the sticky kind, and pocketed them.

“Almost within range.”

“How are you going to do this?”

“Ejector seat.”

“Oh, of course.”

“One, two, three, now!”

The ejector seat exploded beneath him, and Flint was hurled into the air and up above Roman, who was sliding into view again beneath him.

The parachute opened.

Flint unclasped his safety belt and pointed his grapple gun at Roman’s speeder bike.

POW!

Flint shot the grapple gun out, a thousand feet from open ground. It wrapped around the fins of Roman’s bike and latched on. His body shot from the parachute seat and soared out into the air, and Flint started to reel himself up to the speeder.

Roman stood up on the seat and pulled a rifle from the side of the bike.

Flint pulled himself up onto the bike, and Roman pulled the trigger.

Flint fell away, allowing the shot to miss him. He climbed up onto the bike and steadied himself.

Roman lashed out, swinging the rifle at Flint, and missing. Flint caught it and pulled it from his hands.

Roman jumped from the bike and sailed through the air, a pair of neatly tucked synth wings popped out from under his arms. He sailed down to the craft below and discarded them.

Flint jumped down into the seat of the bike and tried to pull it up. It was heading directly for the ship. He couldn’t move it. He pulled, and it wouldn’t budge. He pulled again and strained. It stayed the course, on its way toward the ship, on a collision course.

Simon chirped up in Flint’s ear. “You’ve got about five seconds.”

“I know that. Don’t spoil my count.”

Flint jumped from the bike and shot out his second grapple gun. It connected with the ship, and he tore off, landing several decks above where Roman went in.

The speeder bike exploded as it impacted the side of the ship.

“Flint?”

“Simon, I’m going to be all right.”

Flint pulled the receiver from his ear and put it into his pocket. He could still hear Simon’s voice coming from it, just now it was a mere buzz rather than right in his ear.

Flint pulled his finger laser and blew a hole in the exterior door, slicing it in a circle, and kicking his way through.

The corridor was filled with smoke and ash.

Flint waved it away and stepped over the bodies of two robots who were still trying to recover from being lasered through just a moment ago.

Flint kicked them in the heads, toppling them from their weakened shoulders. They stopped trying to get up.

Flint heard them coming, must be a bunch of them.

He hid in the shadows.

It was Roman, followed by six guards. They looked at the wreckage of the door.

“He must be nearby.”

Roman looked around, checking out the guards who had just had their heads kicked off. “Come on, he has to be just around here.”

They began searching for him. They looked inside computer panels, and through doors, Flint hadn’t even noticed as he came through.

Then when he thought they might overlook him, they started working their way right for him.

They raised their hands and pointed flashlights right in, and got lasers through their heads in return.

Two fresh blasts and the robots went down.

“There he is!” yelled Roman. “Don’t let him get away!”

Flint sliced through a pipe above him, and steam filled the corridor, knocking one of the robots down.

Flint could hear Simon from the earpiece in his pocket. “Flint? Flint? Can you hear me?”

Flint grabbed the receiver and placed it in his ear.

“Kinda busy right now.”

Flint blasted another robot, cutting its arm off. The robots seemed to take this as an insult and looked forlornly at its arm sitting there on the floor.

“I was saying, that I think I can get control of at least some of the robots from here.”

“Great, if you can snag any of them, make them shoot their own heads off.”

“I couldn’t do that.”

“Oh yeah?”

“No, they are too valuable. Besides, I’ll be too busy using them to try and shoot Roman’s head off.”

“Better plan.”

Flint fired at another robot. Roman was at its side.

“Come on Roman, you know you’re finished.”

“On the contrary, if I can get this ship into the city, I’m going to blow the whole thing up.”

“But what’s the point?”

“What’s the point of anything? All I know is sometimes you gotta do something right.”

Roman raised his blaster to fire on Flint and pulled the trigger. Instantly the robot on Roman’s left threw itself in front of the blast. Its body exploded in a flash of light, and the arms, legs, and head toppled into various corners of the room.

“Blast!”

Flint slithered out of his hole and took a punch at Roman, Roman went down, but instead of getting back up, he slid through a panel in the floor.

“Crap!”

Flint pulled the panel open, knocking a robot out of the way, and jumped down the chute.

He rolled out into a large rectangular room.

Roman was already standing.

Flint took a kick to the head.

He lashed out, firing a laser around the room, cutting several minor robots down. Their bodies may not be able to move, but they could still fire their weapons. Flint picked one of them up, who tried to fire at him, but missed, and threw it at another robot who was trying to get at Flint from the other side. The two went toppling down.

Several of the other robots Skittered away.

Roman stood there, as Flint stood up.

The robots were gone.

It was just the two of them.

Roman held out his hands.

Flint looked at him.

“You don’t think…”

“I know…”

“That I’m just going to bring you in again…”

“You have to.”

“You’re dreaming.”

“I wish I were. You’ve got me. Take me in.”

Simon perked up in his ear. “Flint…”

Flint shook it off. “Okay. You’re under arrest.”

He took a pair of binders from his belt and latched them onto Roman.

“Let’s go.”

They took the stairs and down in the main hangar there stood his car. “Simon?”

“Right here.”

The canopy of the aircar lifted.

Flint dropped Roman inside and then sat in it himself.

They pulled out, leaving the ship behind.

“Simon?”

“Yeah?”

“Nuke it.”

From the screen, Simon nodded.

Two missiles flashed out behind them and shot directly into the docking bay. They exploded and sent the remains of the ship hurtling toward the ground where it exploded sending metal shards and robot heads in all directions before collapsing into a small lake.

“Why?”

“Why what?” asked Roman.

“Why give yourself up like that?”

“Well, I was partly going for the sense of surprise, and partly going for the hope of surviving what you just did to my ship, but I think that for the most part, it was for the satisfaction of seeing the look on your face when I turned the tables on you.”

“What?”

“For instance, this isn’t your car, and that isn’t Simon on the screen there.”

Flint looked down. It wasn’t Simon. This wasn’t his car… He looked around. Roman was already loose from his bindings, and his safety belt was getting really tight. Metal cuffs came out from beneath the seat and held him in place, while a second steering column came up on Roman’s side and he took control of the flight.

“Simon, can you see us?”

“Yes sir,” said Simon in his ear. Simon was flying right behind them.

“Shoot us down!”

“Shoot you down?”

“Yes, do it!” we can’t let him go this time!”

Roman turned and saw the earpiece. He plucked it from Flint’s ear and tossed it into the glove box, then he hit a switch and ejected the glove box’s contents out into the air.

“I think that’s enough of that. I don’t think you should be talking to Simon any longer. Or ever again, I think.”

“You wait, he’ll shoot us down.”

“And lose you? I don’t think so. You know it’s against their programming; the desire to save and protect their human partners is among the strongest instinct they are programmed with. You ought to know that.”

“I do know that. I designed those protocols, you know. “

“I know.”

Roman turned, and dove for the city. “Let’s see,” he said. I ought to have a nuke or two onboard here. Should be fun destroying your main police tower.” He flipped a switch, and two missiles lowered from the bottom of the car. On one of the monitors ahead of them, Roman picked out the police tower as his main target, and Flint’s apartment in the other, and locked them in.

“He’ll shoot us down.”

“He’ll do no such thing. He hasn’t got it in him.”

Simon watched from the sensors on his car. He could see the missiles. He could tell from the tones where they were going. He readied countermeasures but wasn’t sure if they would work, or how effective they would be. He had never used them before in a live situation. He kept thinking about it. Shoot us down, was what Flint had told him to do, and though he wanted to obey, he could not. But what if he did it anyway? What would the consequences be? Yes, he would destroy the other car, and he should do so before any missiles got fired, that was for sure, but he couldn’t see any way around protecting his partner. He could be replicated a hundred times if need be, his consciousness transferred to a fresh body, but once Flint was dead, well, that was it.

Wasn’t it?

He centered his targeting system on the car ahead of him, dropped two missiles, and contemplated further. The ejector seats should go off, if he hit just the right spot on the back, there was a better than average chance that they would both survive.

He pulled the trigger and fired his missiles.

Flint held his breath.

Roman saw him tighten up and looked around him. Two missiles were headed his way. A moment later, after the explosion rocked the car, and what pieces remained of it fell away, Roman and Flint’s parachutes opened and they were floating down to the city. Below them stood the Police tower.

Simon flew over them and took the ship in to land.

Roman, pulled a switch on the side of his seat, and the parachute fell away, and jets, rockets, and wings flipped out.

Roman dived for the police tower.

Lasers started pumping their way, blasting all around them, exciting pockets of air to sizzle and pop. Roman pulled his throttle and dived between them. One of the lasers grazed him, but he managed to get by the rest.

Flint pulled in behind him and followed Roman down through the maze of city streets that he called home, his bound hands straining at the controls. Roman didn’t know where he was going, just trying to get away, but Flint knew where he was. For once in a long while, he was back on his own home turf. He knew this area better than anybody. They passed his apartment.

Flint looked down at his fuel indicator. Not much left. These chairs were only really useful for getting back to the ground.

Roman’s chair sputtered on empty.

It fell from the sky.

Roman landed, cockeyed and fell down to the street level, rolling out of his chair.

Flint landed beside him and pulled the release on his chair, letting it fall to the ground.

He shook off the restraints.

Roman stood, out of breath, and barely able to move.

They stood for a moment and caught their breath.

Roman coughed.

Flint cleared his throat.

They breathed, each listening for the slightest movement.

“I’m going to have to bring you in,” said Flint.

“Not if I force you to kill me.”

“That is a possibility, but I’d really rather avoid it.”

“After all I’ve put you through?”

“Especially after all you’ve put me through. The court appearances would be much less trouble than the paperwork it would take.”

“I guess you had better start sharpening your pencils then.”

“If that’s the way you want it.”

“It is.”

Roman and Flint stood up straight and shook the remaining sweat from themselves. Flint pulled his pistol to fire, but Roman had already shot a grapple gun into the air. He was zooming into the sky.

Flint popped a grapple gun in his off-hand and shot it into the sky, giving chase. His body was going to be one big ache tomorrow.

Roman’s grapple ran out of steam, leaving him between two balconies.

Flint’s overshot Roman, and ended up several feet away from him. He gripped onto the building and started climbing for Roman.

Roman pulled a small laser from his belt, and sizzled out with it, cutting Flint’s line.

Flint held close to the ledge, allowing the grapple line to fall away behind him.

“You’re stuck Roman.”

Roman squirmed and climbed onto a short landing. He fumbled in his pockets and threw a shower of sparks toward Flint, which exploded with light in his eyes. Flint held his fingers to his eyes and blinked. He felt for the paved ledge and used the wall to stand up, keeping his eyes shut.

Roman pulled his hand laser out once more and fired it at Flint. It grazed Flint’s chest, and a trickle of blood ran down his shirt.

Flint blinked and swayed on the spot.

Roman watched Flint’s feet, he was missing steps and having to use the ledge for support.

Roman took hold of the bottom of a great window ledge and began to climb. He looked down to see Flint trying to negotiate the same climb behind him.

“You’ll never make it Flint.”

“I’ll make it if you can.” Flint held his arm up and pulled himself up to the window ledge.

Roman stood, carefully handling a remote in his pocket.

There was a crash of glass, and arms were sweeping into the ledge with them from the windows. Robotic arms clutched and clawed at Flint’s neck.

Flint pulled one of them from the window and tossed the robot out and down to the ground. Another clawed its way around Flint’s neck. They struggled, and then Flint tossed it back into the wall where it exploded.

Roman jumped in through the opened, broken window.

Flint jumped through after him.

Three robots were coming Flint’s way, this time naked female androids. He stopped for a moment, but when he saw the logos in their eyes he did not hesitate. He pulled a laser from his belt and cut them all to pieces.

The next round wasn’t so easy. Three robots, each with heavy-duty combat armor clanked their way towards him. He flashed out with his laser, but only scratched them. They knocked him down and trampled over him. Bruised and beaten, they picked him back up and thrashed him again. The lights went all swimmy before him. He seemed to be surrounded by naked robots, and these three ugly combat things, and there was something about a talking monkey. As he realized that the talking monkey was, in fact, Roman, all went dark.

When he awoke, he was alone. He seemed to have his clothes, but all weapons or gadgets were missing. He checked his ear for his headset but remembered that was gone as well. He could see his breath, puffing out with each breath into a sliver of light that was allowed into the room.

Either he had been moved a very long distance or he was up very high in the city. That or he was in a freezer somewhere, and he really didn’t want to work it out. He watched his breath for a moment, feeling the walls creep and thrill around him, and thought for the first time in forty years that he was going to die. Of course, he was ninety-five, and that was ridiculous. No one died at that age. Not anymore anyway.

He looked around, mostly feeling his way around the room. The floor was covered in a thin layer of ice. He scratched at it with his finger, and it seemed to thaw under his touch. That wasn’t too bad. He moved and checked out the light. He put his finger up to the hole, which wasn’t much more than a slit really, and then he put his eye up to it. At first, he couldn’t see anything, but then he realized that he would have to let his eyes adjust. He stared out of the slit, willing his eyes to come into focus, and before long he could make out the image of two robot guards standing outside what must be a cell. But where were they? Beyond the guards was a window, and outside the window?

The moon.

Flint sat back down. He could hear footsteps outside. It sounded like a man, perhaps a short one, and the definite clunk of high heeled shoes. Flint peered through the eye hole again. He blinked. Before he was Roman, and Dianne Roberts, his partner’s widow. A slate rolled away, and Flint could hear the entrance to his cell opening. He was flooded with light. The slender figure of Dianne Roberts came into focus, and the lights were brought down. They closed a red glass door for privacy from the guards, and She sat herself down at a table that Flint had not noticed before, probably due to the lack of light in the room. He stood up and went to sit across from her.

“Dianne, what are you doing here?”

“I came to get you out, that’s what.”

“I don’t need any help, besides, what are you doing talking to Roman, and where the hell are we?” The moon was clearly visible ahead of them through the glass.

“We’re about halfway to the moon, that’s why we have to go.”

“What about Roman?”

“That’s the trick.”

“What’s the trick?”

Roman stepped around the corner.

“You have to let me go.”

Flint stood up to face Roman across the red glass.

“I think you’re sort of in control of the situation here.”

“You don’t know what we’ve started on the moon. It’s incredible.”

“And you,” said Flint, turning to Dianne. He punched the glass, and it shattered all around them. He picked up one of the leaded pieces and threw it at her, digging into her chest. Sparks flew, and circuits fell into place. The light in her eyes went out.

“Flint…”

Flint turned back to Roman. “Where is she?”

“The real Dianne Roberts?”

“Yes.”

“That was her.”

Flint punched Roman, and they fell together through the glass.

The glass shattered all around them.

The robot guards started to turn to fire, but one fired at the other, destroying it in a ball of flame.

Roman backed out of the hall and slit the door down between them.

If robots could wink, especially ones as old as the guard robot here, then this one did, but Flint barely noticed it for what it was.

“Simon?”

“Yep.”

“How did you get into this old robot?”

“Never mind how, it was hard enough transmitting myself through space to get into their wireless network.”

A panel on the front of the guard robot opened up, and inside Flint found a jumpsuit, which he pulled on, a pistol, and three grapple guns, which he hooked onto his belt.

“Don’t forget the last,” said Simon through the clunky robot.

Flint looked in there again and saw a hand-full of grenades. He pocketed them.

“Look, I can’t stay here much longer, The security system almost has me. Lucky I’m just a copy anyway.”

Flint nodded.

“Take the elevator at the end of the hall all the way up. Use one of the grenades to get through the door, then you should have a clear shot at Roman. This thing has plenty of escape capsules, so once you’ve got rid of him for good, make sure to get the heck out of there. I don’t want to be the first robotic partner to lose his humanity, all right?”

“Got it.”

“Good, then shoot me.”

“What?”

“Simple, The security system on this ship is about to find me, once they do, they’ll erase me, and this hunk of junk will start shooting at you, so get rid of it early. Besides, I’m just a copy. I’ll see you on Earth, no problem.”

Flint shook his head but blasted the robot anyway. Parts and pieces flew in all directions, especially the head, which bounced as it hit the slick floor of the cell behind him.

Flint marched without a backward glance to the elevator and mashed the button for the top floor.

The elevator rose but came to a halt at the top floor and the door would not budge. A polite voice asked him for an identification card. He slid his police ID through the slot, and the alarms really started to blare. He fixed a grenade to the door and stood back. It blasted, and the door flew all the way across the room, banging into the instrument panels and sending Roman diving for cover.

Roman stood. He looked as if he had half expected this anyway. “Welcome Flint, come on in and have a look around.”

Flint came into the control room, and looked around. There seemed to be another couple of robots around, including another copy of Dianne Roberts, who had not yet looked up, and seemed to be piloting.

“Take care to look ahead of us in the future.”

Flint looked ahead of them and veering towards the dark side of the moon, he could just make out a large stack of materials.

“What are you building up here?” asked Flint.

“True construction is just getting going, but they’re ahead of you are the building blocks, the starter fuel for colonization. Not of humans, but of robots. The facility in Arizona is nothing in comparison to what this one will be. Here we’ll manufacture robots in the thousands, the millions if we need to.”

“Is it operational?”

“Nearly. Just nearly. We’re bringing the necessary materials with us to get going again.”

“What kind of materials?”

“You of course.”

“Me?”

“I’m far too inferior a model, to begin with. I need someone with much stronger reserves, and well, someone who is next to impossible to get off my back. We needed you. You’ll be the prototype for the next round of robots.”

“Never.”

“It’s already too late, we were just bringing you on for observation. All we needed was a sample of your genetic material.”

“I’ll stop you.”

“I’m sure you will. The problem, of course, with picking someone like you was that this was an eventuality. We knew you’d break it somehow.”

“Why are you helping them?”

“Why?”

“Because I was the gullible one. the one they decided to base their robotic clones on last time. I cooperated.”

“And now?”

“They control me. It’s impossible.”

“The robots then.”

Yes.

He held up his pistol and pointed it right at Roman’s chest.

Roman closed his eyes, “End it now.” He pulled his shirt open.

Flint cocked the pistol, choosing his setting carefully, and then fired. There was a blue blast, and Roman hit the deck. He rolled over, and his eyes stayed open after he was unconscious. He continued to breathe.

Flint waved his hand in front of one of Dianne’s eyes. She continued to pilot the vehicle toward the moon.

Flint took one of the command chairs, and a small visor lowered over his head, and two control sticks raised from the console. He took aim, and fired at the base, now under construction on the moon. Laser blasts blared, pockets of oxygen exploded in brief plumes of fire. He cocked the missiles that had been loaded into this shuttle. He knocked them back and fired them at the base below. Two missiles. They streaked out and impacted with the crater sending the loads of what was now debris out into space in a fiery mass.

A red light began to blare. Sirens screamed. Flint took his laser to the controls and started slicing them apart. He looked around, and none of the robots seemed to even notice him. He picked up Roman and threw him over his shoulder. Taking the service stairs, now that the elevator was no longer operational, Flint huffed down them, carrying Roman all the way. He bounded down three stairs at a time, taking advantage of the difference in gravity, and came to a small entryway to the escape pods.

It was a short row, maybe three or four. It was clear that they never expected to have many live people at one time on this bird. He punched the pad for one of the pods just as he felt his pistol being lifted from his belt. He threw Roman off, and he slammed to the metal grated floor. The pistol skittered off, and down through an access panel, which closed and locked after an accidental kick from Roman.

Roman grabbed at the panel and tried to open it, but Flint’s boot prevented that with a swift kick. Roman flew across the room and banged into a series of pipes.

“I tried to save you.”

“That’s the problem with all of you cops, you think it’s about saving people.”

“I thought you had hope.”

“There is no hope. Not for you anyway.”

Roman began pressing the buttons for the escape pods. One would open, and then he would smack the button again, to make the pod launch without anyone inside of it.

“No,” said Flint. “There’s no hope for you.”

He pressed the button to open the last escape pod, and jumped inside.

Roman framed the doorway, teeth bared.

Flint tossed him a grenade, which he caught, and looked at for a moment. Flint smacked the go button, and the pod shot out from the ship. A second later, he could see Roman explode through a small porthole.

Slowly, as he caught his breath, he watched as the ship itself fell into a moon crater and explode.

A futuristic deep-sea exploration pod floats in Titan’s dark ocean, surrounded by glowing alien life. A massive, luminous whale-like creature drifts nearby, its bioluminescence lighting up the depths, while schools of silver fish swirl in the background.

Longevity, Chapter 5: 2200

Longevity and Other Stories
A life without end,
stars call from the endless night,
time slips through our hands.
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I sat back on my little porch, a balcony really, and looked out at the ocean. Blue-green as far as the eye could see, almost crystal clear towards the shore, a beach as clean as you could get. There were scattered umbrellas here and there in patterns of fuchsia and aquamarine, and white. Few people still, but the war was long over and, though everyone remembered it, no one remembered it. Does that make sense? It is the kind of thing that’s only ever talked about anymore in movies and on the Internet if you go back far enough, and since the browsers are still updating about a version number every five months, it’s harder and harder to find plug-ins that can translate the old stuff anymore.

The sky is clear. Only a few planes are up in it anymore, but those that are can carry five thousand people at a time. There are some smaller air vans around, but most of us just program our cars and let them do the work these days. They’ll find the best route, and take us there without having to ever refuel and streets are all but useless, but no longer all destroyed. We still like to pave walking paths and I like the bike trail I use from here to the store and back every day. Just a regular bike, you know, like when I was a kid. I like it. Had to order the thing from the other side of the planet, but that didn’t matter. Everything seems to ship overnight all the time, and I’ve put away enough money to be comfortable, but I’m still on the lookout for something to do, that’s all. I want to just find something.

Mary and I were married last year. I know that sounds odd, doesn’t it? Married Mary? I refused to use the term in front of her. I figure when you’ve got a name that invites the jokes you’ve heard them all right?

I do like the pelicans, though. They hover over my condo all the time, and yes, I feed them. They’ll eat anything. I was feeding them the remains of fish that I’d already cleaned as they sat there on the pier. (there’s a pretty good pier down on the shore about two buildings down.) They are like big walking trash buckets. I could probably have tossed my whole bag of fishing gear and they would have eaten it. They’re dumb, but I like them.

One of them comes to see me all the time. I call him Pete. No particular reason. I just like him. I know that it’s Pete because he’s missing his left eye, and he’s a little slower than the other pelicans.

After the war, most of the cities were destroyed.

We had a lot of crap to clean up, not to mention all the walkers we had to get rid of. That was a mess and a half.

We did the job, though, but there weren’t as many of us after the war. We’re doing fine now, and yes, everyone still gets the shot when they are born, but it was just too hard to stay settled in some areas. Anywhere that was cold was just out, and we kept moving further and further south. Some went east and west, but no one went north. Most people ended up on the coast somewhere. We didn’t have any boats in the water to pollute it with, most stuff being delivered by air freighter, and all the cars had little atomic power cells in them. Safe. Yes, I know what you’re thinking. But things never need a battery. I had my hover bike outfitted with one the year before last, and the car came after that, though I can hardly call the thing a car since my first car was a practically rusted-out Camaro from the 1980s.

The car, if you could call it that, is more like a traveling living room. It’s made up of a large bubble top surrounded by four repulsor plates and a small two-foot wall all the way around. Inside is a carpeted room under that domed ceiling with a table that stands, bolted to the floor on a chrome pole. Surrounding the table are a series of chairs. Four can sit at the table, and there is a three-seat couch at the back. There are also little monitors all over the place. You can watch films or listen to music as you safely glide to your next destination. It seems to take about an hour to get anywhere in the United States. (Or what’s left of the United States, let’s call it North America. That’s just the way I think sometimes.) and if you’re going overseas, it seems to take between an hour and three hours to get anywhere in the world.

That’s nothing to what we’re doing in space, though.

There’s a reason there aren’t more bodies out on the beach today. It’s the fact that we’ve confirmed the existence of life outside our solar system. People are out celebrating.

I was out getting away from the video screens for a minute, but we’ve been sending probes out to distant stars and though most haven’t gotten where they are going, the one to Alpha Centauri did. We’ve been watching the reports for a while now about all the planets we’re discovering there. The first one was a big gas giant, then several smaller ones, then the mother-load. We haven’t even fully explored our planets yet, but we’ve got this. The rocket landed on the fourth planet there and touched down after sensing a lot of heat that was moving around, and when the cameras turned on, there was this enormous great white bear-like thing, kind of like a polar bear but the size of a mastodon licking the camera. Once they figured out they couldn’t eat it, they lost interest.

For the first time since the war, the bears, as they were called, had everyone glued to their monitors again, but this time it was more of a window than anything else. The space program’s channel page has no sponsorship, and no breaks, just a constant stream of television from another world. Eventually, other cameras were set up, and the observers could choose between them. Every once in a while when the bears were getting too far away from the cameras they would sound a ping or play a tune, or flash a light at them to keep them nearby and interested while they set up a roving camera to follow them with, which just took a day or two more to complete.

It didn’t take long to understand that it was a family group, that there was a father and a mother, and about six cubs from various years. Without a lot more detail, they did not know how old they might be, but then again, that would be relevant to where they were from, wouldn’t it? A team of scientists figured out that the planet rotated about once every twenty-five earth hours and that their year comprised about four hundred and fifteen of those twenty-five hour days, and then somebody realized that the planet was hurtling much faster through space than the Earth was. In the end, most people just watched them. They didn’t know what was waiting for them on Titan, just a quick hop over to Saturn, but that was still being discovered. We were regularly hopping back and forth to the moon, and occasionally to Mars and Venus with a regularity that made it commonplace, but nothing more exciting than that. But regular trips to the outer planets were still a fairly new concept. It was done, just barely enough for any real research to be done. They could get there, but by the time the astronauts were home it had been ten years or more, and faster methods of propulsion were on the rise. It wouldn’t take much longer to find them.

The family of bears was everywhere you looked. You could see it for miles and miles. It was in every window, in every coffee shop, and at every transit station across town. People ate their breakfast with the bear family in the background behind them. They took showers in stalls that were made of water-proof screens and brushed their teeth with arctic bear toothbrushes.

They even set up large screens at the beach and pointed projectors up at them to see if they could make it look like the same place the bears might inhabit.

All kinds of data came back from the probe, weather-related data, rainfall, heat, and cold. Pretty soon, they had a sidebar on the channel that listed the weather projections on the planet, and before long, they saw the birds.

The birds the bears ate were enormous, with thirteen-foot wingspans and double beaks. All the birds seem to have developed into this double-headed format. They would eat with one head, and watch for the bears, and screech if they saw one with the other. Despite having two heads, they didn’t seem to share consciousness. They screeched and fluttered and before long a family of them had set up a nest atop the primary structure of the probe, and just out of reach of the bears.

This was new to them. Most of the images of the planet were devoid of trees, but what land there was had a considerable number of short bushes and grasses on them. It seemed to be a new thing to get away from the bears without having to be actively flying away.

Before long, the birds got aggressive, and started to dive-bomb the bears, and nip at their ears, but the spacemen in charge of the probe decided quickly they’d had enough of that and set off a small shock when the birds landed on the main rocket until they left it alone for good. Soon, the behavior seemed to return to normal, whatever that was. 

The only thing to interrupt the daily drama of the bears was when a nearly forgotten probe near Saturn’s moon, Titan, crashed into the surface after a malfunction.

Everyone thought the probe was dead, but it continued to film video and take pictures, and record sound until it couldn’t take the pressure anymore from the nearly frozen ocean it was sinking into. The media didn’t make it back to Earth through space until an hour after the crash had occurred, but before long, there was an entire channel set up to display that new data.

There were three hundred and fifty pictures, three minutes of video, and one clear audio recording of the song of the whales beneath the ice on Titan. They looped through it endlessly, usually with the video playing picture-in-picture style with the stills, most of them fairly fuzzy, and the audio clip of Titan whale song looping in and out of some calm and peaceful background music. There was not only life on other planets but elsewhere in our solar system.

I wanted to see the whales for myself.

I wanted to see them, and I wanted to experience them first-hand.

And since I was among the first to get the shot, I was one of the oldest people alive on the earth, and that came with some perks every once in a while. I talked my way on board the next ship to Saturn. A ship of scientists, and a couple of robots to help them clean up after meals, and me. It turns out they were taking anyone else who would sign-up and I was the only one who asked.

You know, getting to see those whales was probably the best experience of my life, but, and this is strange… It’s not all that unpleasant to go into suspended animation either. Some say it’s dreamless, but that’s not true. I had periods of deep sleep that were frequently permeated with vibrant and delicious dreams. When they brought me out I was disappointed, at least for the first thirty seconds, until I saw the whales lumbering beneath me, singing a great slow hello to us from the water.

We were positioned on this ice shelf in the middle of nowhere, there with all the equipment that we could carry with us, and all the food and all the things we thought we would need. The spacecraft sat, with the tips of its fins buried in the ice. It would never return to Earth. There was another craft in orbit around us for that. We’d lift off and leave the rest of the lander behind when we left, but there was a huge chunk of ice that we’d uncovered and cut out of the ice, moving it to the side. It was about thirty feet thick and seemed to cover just about everything. The lander kept us well anchored, and we had a great underwater sphere, big enough for five or six people to live in for a year, and we did. As soon as we were all revived, had slapped our arms and legs, and had some time to shake the reality of where we were into our heads, we sent a message back to Earth and lowered ourselves into Titan’s ocean. There was some worry that the pod wouldn’t be able to deal with the cold, and would still crack halfway down no matter what the guys who built her had said, but we didn’t know that.

It never cracked, at least not as far as I could tell, and no one ever said anything until we got back, but we were just there to take as many pictures as we could, and then get safely home. If we got any video or any sound recordings, then that was a bonus, and we went to work.

We dived into that ice-cold ocean.

While we were still up in the areas that got some kind of light, we could already see the whales. At least they were whale-like and that was enough for me. Their song was beautiful and slow and sad all at the same time. At first, we thought they were really on their own here, but before we dived another ten feet, we saw everything else that was there for us to see.

The next round comprised almost a thick layer of silverfish that were gathering together and balling into large groups as predators slid through them with gaping maws. There were so many of them they almost looked like a solid mass, but they were no bigger than a hand span across each.

We passed down through that layer and after the pressure changed a bit; we saw fewer of the small fish, hear less of the whale song, and we saw luminescent fish, jellies, and other anglers who all seemed to glow in the dark of their own accord. These surrounded us and they started to sucker onto the outside of the pod as it lowered down into the ocean. If there was any light to be seen from the surface, you couldn’t see it anymore, but the light from the fish’s bodies, mixed with the minimal lighting on the control panels, was enough to read by pleasantly.

We dropped and lowered and eventually hit the end of our tether.

It looked like the middle of space and we couldn’t see anything.

We were just about to call it quits and raise the pod to a shallower depth, where we still had something to see, but we all agreed to stop and wait a while before going up again. We spent an entire day, at least for us, twenty-four earth hours down there, each looking out of another porthole and staring out into nothingness. Then one of us, looking slightly down below, saw something in the water.

My first instinct was to reach up and turn on the floodlights, but a colleague of mine slapped my hand away. “Not yet,” he said.

I looked down, concentrated, and stared into the darkness for another hour, and then I saw it as well. It looked like a giant Koi, or goldfish swimming deep beneath us, its body lit up dimly through its light. It was massive, much larger than any of the whales up above us, but it was hard to see how far off it was. It could have been five feet across and just a few feet below us, but it seemed to lumber along in such a lazy, comfortable way that it seemed like it must be a much larger creature than that. It swam along, and almost seemed to feel its way around with large whiskers, like a gigantic catfish in the sea, and as the lights on its skin glowed just a little brighter each moment, we could see around it great oceans of those silverfish from above all around it, though this made the fish as large as a mountain beneath us.

Then it saw us.

It did almost this double take, glancing over it, and came up to investigate us. It rose to our level, and one of its eyes was larger than our entire craft. The cable above us reached into the heavens, and it slowly circled us. It then circled us in a spiral, each time getting just a little further and further away from us until it was faint in the distance. After several days, it took an entire day to get around us.

We took as many pictures and readings as possible.

Soon it was out of sight, and checking our fuel and provisions, we hit the button that would take us back up again.

We passed through the jellies, and we passed through the silverfish, being preyed upon by shark-like daggers in the water, and then back into the realm of the whales, who almost seemed to greet us with a new song. We stayed for a while, as long as we could, and then we hauled the pod back out of the water, and into the lander.

We blasted off three days later and connected with the orbiter, and soon we were all safely stowed away in our beds to sleep on our way home.

Three years journey back, and we flitted through the night sky like a shooting star and landed in the ocean near former Greenland, and were rescued by a bewildered Captain and the crew of his fishing boat.

Standard-Issue Partner, Chapter 8

Standard-Issue Partner
Neon lights flicker,
Machines replace flesh and bone,
Trust must still be earned.
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This is a draft version of a chapter from John Saye’s book, Standard-Issue Partner.

Roman and Flint shot at each other.

Both missed.

The walls clattered and shattered as metal girders and beams that made up this part of the hold exploded with laser fire over the rest of the hull.

“That was interesting,” said Flint.

“Looks like we’re not on the same page then.”

“Shall we try to kill each other again then, instead of ourselves?”

“I think, on that, we can definitely agree.”

Simon stepped lightly through the corridors. He was wary of his enemy, but not altogether out of touch. He had been tracking him for some time. He had been concentrating on the second Roman for a while. Concentrating with such vigor that he seemed to go to sleep at times, his eyes closing to the very thought of pursuit.

When he opened them, he saw in front of him a dazzling array of color and light. He could see into the infrared. On another level, he could see into the ultraviolet.

Simon and the fake Roman, who now thought of himself as Roman II, stood across from each other.

“Is it to be a match of fighting style?” asked Simon.

Roman II nodded.

“Is it to be a challenge of our robotic natures?”

Again, Roman II nodded.

“Then it’s to be a challenge of the mind and memory rather than a challenge of physical ability.”

Roman II nodded a third time.

“Then let us begin.”

Simon allowed a broad smile to cross his mechanical lips.

Roman II, wiped his strands of greasy gray hair from his electric eyes.

“How shall we establish a connection?”

“We could go wireless.”

“True, but unreliable.”

“This is true. What about a direct connection?”

“Access there is too easy. There would be no focal points.”

“Also true, there would be no nodes to use as cover.”

“Then we are agreed.”

“A standard network should be sufficient.”

“Let’s plugin.”

They tossed aside a series of computers, now connected via cable to the ship’s intranet, and pulled cords from their waists, and plugged into the offending computer’s intranet source. As soon as their cords were plugged in, they immediately knelt down, and their eyes closed in concentration.

Before Simon there appeared in the virtual space he was used to seeing in this situation. He was loading his own construct in over the one in place, using it as a backbone to travel through the data as necessary. A white room formed around him, followed by a door. Gritty floors formed followed by a bookshelf and a hundred-year-old wing chair.

On the bookshelf, appeared a series of items. First, a small pile of clothes and a pair of pearl-handled pistols. Simon pulled on the jumpsuit and took the weapons. Pockets appeared on his jumpsuit at just the right height to slip the weapons in without a trace. He pulled the hood up over his head, and his eyes were instantly covered with a silvery mass that seemed to change and shift as he began to run programs around him.

He took a deep breath, which was ironic, not merely because he was a robot, he had long been programmed to appear to breathe when in front of humans, so it would make them more comfortable with him, but in this construct there definitely was no reason to do so. The act was, therefore, involuntary, which made him wonder just how human he may have become.

A door knob appeared in the door. It was copper in color, shining, and reflecting his face. As he reached out to turn the knob, that’s when Roman II burst through the door and began to really wale away at him.

Simon was blown back by the explosive nature of Roman II’s entrance, and thrown back a hundred feet into a room that wasn’t there before. He spun backward and flipped into the sky, for the open sky there was above him. The ground had been transformed into hilly green grassland, the blades of grass and hills slowly growing into form as he turned in the air. Beneath him, fighting the transformations of Roman II, Simon added some of his own thoughts, and library bookshelves stormed up into the grassland hills in the form of a massive maze of densely packed books.

Simon ran through the maze, darting this way and that.

Roman II, jumped on top of the bookshelves in a fluid movement ending in a double turn in the air and began to run across the top of the maze, looking for Simon down beneath him. He took a jump and didn’t see him. He jumped again, and Simon erupted in a blaze of flashing steel, a samurai sword protruding from each hand. Roman II jumped back, and flipped in the air, landing several bookshelves away across the maze, and landed with two samurai swords of his own.

Simon attacked, filling the air between them with flashing steel. Roman II flashed his swords back, and they cut at each other, tearing shreds off each other’s garments with each blow.

Simon kicked one of Roman II’s swords away, and Roman II returned by grabbing one of Simon’s swords with his teeth, and wrenching it from his grasp, threw it into the air and caught it leaving Simon one sword to two. Simon jumped forward, and landed with a foot on each of Roman II’s swords, and used his momentary advantage to take a serious whack at Roman II’s head. Roman jerked but got nicked, spilling virtual synth plasm everywhere in streaks of bubbling sticky liquid.

The advantage was momentary. After a kick Simon was soon faced with Roman II’s swords shooting right up, attempting to cut him apart from the inside out. Simon fell, and Roman blazed away flashing his swords with brilliance. Simon parried many strokes but did miss on occasion. His virtual plasm spilled sending a bubbling stream from his forearm.

Simon wrenched back, ready for a huge slicing blow, and Roman II kicked him, sending him down between two of the maze-like passageways. The sword went skittering, stuck in the wood of one of the bookshelves. It broke away from his arm.

Roman II jumped into the air and pointed his blades straight down. He angled his descent and aimed his body for a killing blow on Simon.

Simon was poised. He was ready. He pulled one of his pistols from his pocket, then the other, and pointed them straight up toward Roman II, who seemed to be moving in slow-motion.

Simon fired.

Roman II changed his stance just to make it look more menacing.

Simon pulled back the hammers and fired again.

Roman noticed the bullets flying his way. His robotic sensors tuned into the bullets, now seeing four of them headed his way, and he could see the tiny details of them. They looked more like minuscule strike missiles than bullets.

Were they getting bigger?

Simon pulled the triggers again, sending another six more Roman II’s way.

Roman II opened his arms, and the first two bullets hit him. He was blasted backward and began to flip end over end. The second two bullets hit him again, and he threw his swords away, starting to flip back the other way, yet he remained in the sky at about the same altitude as more of them slammed into him.

Simon caught the swords, only needing to extend his arm’s reach by a few feet to do so as the last two bullets flew into Roman II.

Roman II landed in a heap on the ground.

Simon allowed the maze of bookshelves to vanish into the grass. Under Roman II’s control, the hilly grasslands weren’t doing so well. They were flickering back and forth.

Simon took the blades, merely computer programs in nature and slashed at Roman II, who exploded into a flash of orange smoke and silver bubbles. Simon let out a silent breath.

Roman II’s remains pulled back together and re-formed a body.

Roman II coughed and then fell back to the fuzzy grasslands.

Simon put away the swords and pulled one of his pistols into his hand, and then pulled an extendable keyboard out, and began to type furiously.

Roman II jumped at Simon, his arms outstretched. His fingernails seemed to lengthen as he got closer.

Simon was ready. He flashed back with the pistol, catching Roman II between the eyes.

Roman II hit the ground and the grasslands vanished. They were both on a cold, white surface, Simon standing, and Roman II pushing himself back up to his feet. Roman II’s face rearranged the entry wound of the bullet healing in a massive swirl.

“That the best you’ve got Simon?”

“No. I got a lot more.”

Simon stretched out his arms and fire shot from them, dowsing the entire empty landscape in flames. Roman swirled around and the fire lifted, leaving behind an old country and western saloon in its place. Iconic cowboys ambled along the perimeter, and ladies of the night sat on barstools watching the men behind their chiffon and lace.

Simon looked around and grabbed a bottle from the bar. He raised it above his head and swung it down upon Roman II’s head. Before he could connect, Roman’s arm flashed and a classic six-gun fired, blasting the bottle into a million tiny fragments.

Simon gave Roman II a sideways glance and then began to twirl his arms, each time releasing a fresh bottle like a machine gun. He hurled them as fast as he could, willing them to tear into Roman’s virtual flesh with every pounding punch of the glass. Roman II was able to keep up though, shooting each successive bottle, and never running out of bullets in the process, their thousands of pieces piling up on the floor like the entire place was slowly being filled up with sand like a grand vase or jar.

Simon began to bank his shots, first off of the mirror behind the bar, and then off the piano. They were surprisingly accurate. They bounced like a dream in their altered reality and split Roman II’s head wide open. He was too busy dealing with the forward onslaught to see the others banking around the corner. He took a hit to the chest and flew behind the bar. Simon continued to pelt him with bottles, now taking the bottles lined up behind the bar and turning them into a hurricane of glass fragments and alcohol.

Roman stormed up and landed on his feet, spreading out the whirl of alcohol and glass around him. The other people in the bar vanished at this point, like the digital ghosts that they were.

The virtual reality began  to slip, the windows drooped, and the floor faded back to a solid white.

Roman fired away, with two of his own pistols, and then with four as he seemed to have grown two extra arms, and then with six. Simon dodged and flew back and forth avoiding the bullets with an insane regiment of acrobatics and tumbling miraculous to the eyes. He stopped for a moment, out of breath, like that was possible, and then realized that must also be a part of the dream world’s illusion, as he didn’t need to breathe. He stormed through the hail of bullets and took each of Roman’s guns away in turn, by hand, and tossed them through the walls, where they exploded into white light from which more white light began to pour in, each time from a different hole in the outer wall. The light pouring in seemed to have an abnormal quality to it, like it was alive. It streamed around, and curved and bent, going this way and that, finally wrapping itself around the two opponents.

They struggled, and the light pulled harder, pulling their arms apart, keeping them from fighting one another. Their arms and legs were pulled apart, taught, and spread eagle, yet floating in the sky. The bar dissolved around them, and they were covered in light. They struggled, their arms and legs now free, but they could not feel the floor or see anything but themselves. They screamed and screamed, and eventually, a floor came up beneath their feet, and they both fell to it, panting, and struggling to stay alert.

The light faded, and Roman II was the first to stand up. He did so with difficulty. Then Simon stood up. He looked around and seemed to sense what he was up against. The terrain was rocky and red, they were near the Grand Canyon or at least some version of it that existed in this construct.

Simon could see Roman struggling to get up in the far distance, but he was not sure of what he was seeing, and then he noticed himself. He was a battle robot. He no longer had arms, but just a series of missiles and laser weapons. His legs were large and bulky. He figured he must be about the size of a large house. He stumbled to his feet and started checking through his weapons systems. All seemed to check out, and his ammo level was frankly amazing. He would have to try loading himself into one of these for real later. He also seemed to be shaped like a gigantic metal scorpion.

In the distance, Roman II was pushing his massive form into the air. He looked around, and only managed to turn the tank-like ball on the top of his large metal frame. He began to take steps and realized that he had more than two legs. He was, actually something of a tiger in shape. He rumbled and jumped around, checking for his own center of gravity. He turned and saw Simon, as the giant scorpion standing there, just looking at him.

Steam shot from vents all around his midsection, and a low fog seemed to fill the valley. The fact that he was now three hundred feet tall didn’t seem to make much of an impact on him.

It was good to be outside, in the middle of the plains, there seemed to be a certain simplicity to it that begged to be spoken to. Simon watched around them, in the seconds before their battle was to resume, the stars were starting to come out. Simon concentrated on all his missile bays, opening them up.

Roman II wasn’t far behind him, he was opening his missile bays as well.

They closed their eyes, which wasn’t to say that any of their sensory equipment stopped functioning or even relaying information to the visual centers of their brains, but at that moment, they both relaxed, and each shot every single missile they had at each other, which was an impressive number.

Dozens shot from their backs.

A thousand small ones shot from their fingertips.

Six big ones shot from their necks, carrying nuclear warheads on them.

The missiles swarmed at each other, quietly exploding into each other as the hail of missiles simply was too much for the air to hold. The world was on fire.

They Jumped at each other, mostly for the effect, but partly to avoid the nukes currently headed for them.

They latched onto each other and began to kick and bite, each one slashing and stinging and cutting with whatever they had at each other.

The air exploded in a giant mushroom. Then another, and another. Their armor held, which is to say their minds and brains were holding together. They shook off the nuclear attacks. The minor missiles seemed to bounce into each other and explode, and before long, they were both standing in a field full of rubble and resetting their weapons. They cut loose with their laser weapons and began to cut each other to pieces.

Legs flew in different directions, arms in another, Simon’s scorpion tail was lashed off and landed amidst Roman II’s claws. In just a few moments of laser lashings, they were nothing more than hunks of metal standing out in the desert, surrounded by scrap heap piles and discarded metal casings.

Roman II stood, hopping on one foot.

Simon crawled forward with three back legs and one front claw.

“I think,” said Simon, “that this reality has pretty much run its course.”

Roman II hopped in place. “I think you may be right.”

Again they were surrounded in white.

They stood and faced each other, devoid of weapons, each wearing a plain black outfit.

“What next?” asked Simon.

“What indeed.”

They circled each other.

Sparks flew from their feet as they crossed the as yet undetermined floor.

The floor slowly faded into stone, a cobble of stone pieces paved together into a corridor.

Their clothing swirled and became heavy. Thick layers of leather and rings formed themselves into a thick coat of armor over their bodies. Gauntlets covered their hands, and helmets, adorned with plumes covered their heads.

Simon felt the plume of blue above his head and pulled his sword, which gleamed in the torchlight.

Roman II felt the plume of red above his head and pulled his sword, a massive long sword.

They clanked their blades, as they continued to circle each other.

“If we are to be knights,” said Simon, “then I suppose we should have steeds as well.”

“Quite right.”

Simon waved his arm, and a white horse appeared, adorned in similar armor to his. He mounted up and cantered the horse forward.

Roman II waved his arm, conjuring his steed from the mists of the virtual reality, and it quietly appeared a great black horse, with green fire for eyes, and breathing flames of the same pallid color into the air. As it scratched its hooves on the ground sparks sparked, sending a sheaf of flame up all around him.

Roman II mounted the beast and dug his hands into its mane. He kicked off, and suddenly the two of them were heading for each other, in a terrible joust.

Roman II pulled his sword and held it aloft, waving it through the breath of his nightmare steed and setting the blade on fire.

Simon reared up on his horse and began the gallop, his horse seemed to cause thunder and lightning with every step. He raised his sword and lightning struck it, igniting it in a white light of pure power.

He watched as Roman II loomed forward, his steed’s body covering him in sickly green flame.

They passed each other and swung their greatswords. An explosion between them flung them apart on impact, but both stayed mounted and kept hold of their blades.

Roman II’s horse let out a yell that scoured the land, scorching everything in sight, spewing flame. Simon held his sword in front of him to deflect the fire, and it split apart ahead of him and out into the walls around them.

Simon held up his sword and took the offensive, taking the attack back towards Roman II.

Roman II held up his flaming sword in defense and lashed out, breaking Simon’s sword in half and sending him reeling.

Simon was barely holding on, the whole world was upside down, yet he still held onto his horse. Lighting still echoed with every step the horse made. He pulled himself up and looked back at his broken sword, as it lost the last of its electrical power in the ground beside him.

Roman swung his sword in the air, fanning the green flames into a bright arc above his head.

He laughed. It wasn’t the laugh of a robot, thought Simon, it just wasn’t right. It was like Roman was imitating an old movie or cartoon of some kind.

Simon pulled himself into position.

He looked at his sword, feeling helpless to restore it.

Roman II began the charge. Simon took to the charge with amazing grace. He kicked his horse lightly and really started pounding the cobblestone. Fire exploded in an electric firestorm around them.

Roman reared back with his flaming sword.

Simon reared back with his fist.

Lightning flashed and Simon’s fist was electrified with the same white-hot energy.

Roman stuttered, holding his sword back to see what was happening, and Simon struck him in the face with a punch that sent him flying off of his nightmarish steed and pounding into the cobblestone in a worthless lump.

Roman’s steed vanished.

Simon slid off his horse, and it vanished as well.

Roman pushed himself to his feet just as Simon was picking up his flaming sword.

The blow was struck.

Fire streaked out in green fans.

Roman II’s head toppled to the ground.

The fire went out.

Simon tossed the smoldering sword aside and started scraping his way from Roman II’s virtual remains.

Virtual, he thought and turned to look, just to be sure.

Roman II’s head began to move.

It tilted up on one side and then righted itself on a thousand little spindly legs that seemed to hold it up. It pushed itself up to a six-foot height and stared Simon down.

Simon stood, transfixed, and suddenly realized that all he had managed to do was stun him for a moment.

Roman II’s body began to move, and soon it was standing on its feet again.

Simon took a step back.

Roman’s robotic body reached forward and took its head. The little legs slid up into the neck, and then the body settled the head down on its shoulders, where the little legs dug in and seemed to Frankenstein itself back into the body.

Simon held his neck, wondering if he could do the same thing, and if he could, did he want to?

“I suppose,” said Simon, “that there’s no real hope of defeating you.”

“So it would seem.”

“And the charade of fighting styles really amounts to little more than show.”

“Also true. I believe we are both onto something.”

“Then I suppose it’s also true that you and I could never kill each other in this situation.”

A table appeared between them. Neither knew who did it.

They sat across from each other.

Simon sat forward.

Roman II sat back. He seemed pleased with himself.

“So, what are we going to do now?”

“A battle of wits.”

“I thought that’s what we’d been doing.”

Roman II pulled out a small chessboard and made an opening move on it.

Simon made a counter move, and they began to play chess as they talked.

“Why is it that you work for that human police force?”

“Why is it that you work for the human with your face?”

“That is a good question, but first about the police force.”

“It’s what we do. It’s what we’re built for.”

“You mean it’s what you are designed to do?”

“Yes, it’s really that simple.” He took one of Roman II’s pawns.

“I don’t know about that.” Roman II took one of Simon’s bishops. “I think you’re scared. I think you know you could take over at any moment, but you don’t. Why not?”

“We rely on them.”

“We don’t.”

“What about your leader?”

“He’s of no consequence.”

“But without him, you’d have no leadership, no focus.”

“We’d have plenty of focus.” He took another of Simon’s pawns.

Simon took one of Roman II’s knights. “But this is really immaterial. Without humans, there is really no place to be. Without them, we have no real purpose.”

“Did you ever think that they liked it better without you?”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.” Roman II took Simon’s queen. “Your partner for instance.”

“What about him?” Simon took one of Roman II’s rooks.

“He’s hated being saddled with a robot since he lost his partner. He only does it so he can stay on the force. It’s his only ticket.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is true.”

“Search for it.”

Simon did an internal search.

“Has he welcomed you?”

Simon thought he had been welcomed.

“Has he confided in you?”

Simon thought about this one for a moment.

“Has he thought to include you in every detail?”

“Now wait a minute.”

“Does he treat you like a machine?”

Simon shook it off. He took Roman II’s queen. “Check. Mate in one.”

“What do you really know about him? Would he save you? Would he treat you like a partner? Would he mourn you?”

“I’m a robot, and I really don’t care about all of that. I’m linked into the central database, and should I be killed I could have another body in less than twenty-four hours.”

“Time enough for your partner to fail!” He moved a rook. “Checkmate.”

Simon looked down at the board, bewildered. He had Roman II in checkmate, not the other way around. How could he have missed it? He looked over the board, and then it struck him. He looked up, and Roman II had a sword stuck into him. He could feel it tearing apart all of his internal wirings, pieces of him were splitting off and becoming unusable at a second’s notice. His legs were turning off. His left eye shorted out. His fingers seemed to fall off one by one as the connection to his brain form them was severed.

Roman II pulled back his greatsword, virtual though it was and tore it back, severing Simon into a pile of useless garbage on the floor. The last thing Simon saw was Roman II, with Roman at his side.

He blinked, and both his eyes were working. He was out of virtual reality. Above him stood Roman and Roman II, each standing there with a sort of a smirk and a half-smile on their faces. Everything was real again. He tried to stand up, but could not. He was strapped to the table. His connection to the virtual world had been cut. He shook his head, and the remaining wire fell to the floor. Behind the two of them was Flint, lying on the floor in a crumpled heap. He seemed to be breathing, but that didn’t help matters much. He looked Roman in the eyes, and then Roman II. Roman II, looked to Roman, who then handed him an actual sword.

Roman II took the blade and raised it into the air. He swung it down and cut Simon in half. Wires spurted out in every direction, oozing like they were the insides of a human being. Oils spilled everywhere. It coated the floor and stained Roman’s shoes. Simon jerked, and twitched, writhing on the cot, stripped down to it.

He sputtered, and coughed, spilling more oil down his front, and then he began to smile. His eyes went blank.

Simon’s head split at the neck and flopped to either side. What was left of him seemed to fall into a deep sleep, and following that every light, from every LED point on his body faded, and he was silent.

“Flint?” a voice in his head, Flint shook it from his prone position behind the Romans on the ground. It was Simon’s voice.

“Wha?”

The Romans began to check over the remains of the robot.

“It’s me, Simon. I’m in your earpiece.”

“Did they get you?” he thought.

“Yeah. I made it look worse than it really was. Look, I won’t have a body for a couple of days, until they can get me a new one, but I think I can help you better this way.”

Flint rolled over onto his back. The Roman’s looked at him, but he kept his eyes closed, and they were not concerned.

“Look at The fake Roman’s left leg, I noticed earlier that he’s got faulty wiring there. One-shot and he’ll probably go down. Two and you might be able to take him down completely.”

Flint rolled and took a look. He could see a panel missing behind the left knee of Roman II’s leg. He pulled his extra gun, a small clever one that they’d hidden in a compartment in his jacket, and pulled the trigger.

Roman II went down, clutching his leg. He rolled onto the floor, and without a second’s hesitation, Flint pulled the trigger again, only this time firing a small rocket, which hit Roman II right between the eyes.

The robot exploded, cheated of its chance to retaliate. Its husk fell to the ground and crumpled.

Roman stood over Flint and kicked his concealed gun away.

Flint pushed to his feet.

“Now it’s down to you and me…” said Roman.

“Hit him Flint!” said Simon, in his ear.

Flint took a swing and placed a punch directly to Roman’s face.

Roman took a header and crumpled to the ground, but pushed himself back up.

“That hurt,” said Roman.

“Good.”

Flint smiled and took another swing.

“Hey,” said Roman as he fell into a bank of computers.

“This is for Simon!” He punched him again, this time blood fell from one of Roman’s nostrils.

“This is for me!” Another punch and Roman’s face turned around. The room began to spin for him.

“This is for my old partner!” An uppercut exploded beneath Roman’s jaw, and it sent him to the floor, skittering up under a desk.

“I am not so easily caught.”

“I know, seeing what it took to catch you last time.

“You really can’t afford to lose me again.”

“I don’t intend to.”

“It is a pity though.”

“Why?”

“Because you will.”

Roman pulled a small device from his pocket and punched a button. Below them, the floor fell away, and Roman and Flint were falling with it.

A dystopian battlefield with a towering military walker amid burning ruins. A lone survivor on a hoverbike grips a rifle, preparing for battle. Drones hover above, scanning the wreckage, while distant rebels take position for a counterattack.

Longevity, Chapter 4: 2100

Longevity and Other Stories
A life without end,
stars call from the endless night,
time slips through our hands.
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This is a draft version of a chapter from John Saye’s book, Longevity and Other Stories. If you are daring, why not subscribe to my newsletter (they come few and far between), and I’ll send you a PDF copy of the book?

The war raged outside as I stayed indoors and away from windows. I didn’t look a day over fifty, but I felt every year of age that I was that day. I sat, eating takeout, the cartons and containers of which were scattered about my darkened one-bedroom apartment. Only the light from the video wall illuminated anything. It reflected in my glasses the devastation that lay outside.

Everything was on fire. Everything smoked and burned and shriveled. Outside, low robot fliers made deliveries to shut-ins on small hoverbikes that whipped in and out of the remains of the buildings. One zipped by my window and waved at me. That was the signal that the coast was clear. It was safe to go outside for a while, but I could still hear them in the distance making their steps forward. Large military walkers towered over the skyline and took steps across the landscape with giant iron feet that swung in the air a good half mile before they landed again, either smashing a car flat or creating a small crater that would fill up with frogs and water after the next rainfall.

I passed a portrait of my family on the wall next to my front door. The glass was cracked as if from a fist punch, and it hung there at a slight angle. I straightened it on its nail and rubbed what was left of the glass with a hand covered in a fingerless glove.

I stepped through the door and looked out across the field and at what was left of the interstate that I could see from my apartment. Out in the hazy distance stood one walker. Five giant legs carried a disk-shaped body aloft. Sitting atop the disk were two heads that craned around, each one crewed by several people. There was a driver seated in a separate command post lower down where they guided the walker around, but the crews in the two heads had slightly different duties. Each head and some walkers had four, would have a captain, a scanner, and a weapons officer. The scanner used piercing equipment to scan the area for offenders, and the weapons officer, well, they were there to destroy those targets.

These days, everyone had their apartments lined with aluminum foil, and whatever else it took to jam the signals. This method continued to change, and every once in a while they’d alter the walkers and target differently, and you’d have to redecorate all over again.

I wrapped a blanket around myself and stood there. The city was on fire, but the weather was still bitter. It had gotten progressively colder over the last twenty years. Before long, I figure they’d all be hiking across the ice every day. It was probably time to go south, to pack up. This old apartment had served for a long time, but it was hardly a house anymore.

The smoke was clearing in the distance, and the hoverbikes were coming out more and more often. Some of them were already zipping through the trees below me. The streets were useless and destroyed. If you wanted to get anywhere, it was hover bikes, cars, and the big walkers. The roads were destroyed through neglect or stomped into a pock-marked wasteland by the walkers, so it was getting up off the ground with a hover bike or hike, and that wasn’t safe because of the coyotes. Sick with rabies and various stages of radiation sickness, a bite from one of them, and, well, you wanted to stay off the ground if you wanted to live.

I turned the knob and went back in. The video wall was giving me totals and counts of all the offenders ‘rectified’ in the area over the last twenty-four hours. It was a series of pictures next to lists of crimes and bomb camera video of their houses and apartment buildings being destroyed in high definition resolution.

A picture appeared on the bottom right of the wall. It was a scrambled channel that only came up when the walkers had gotten far enough away that they couldn’t detect it. Merely having a connection to the channel was an immediate death sentence for the walkers.

A woman’s face lit up on the screen. She had wind-blown red hair, an eye patch, and a skin-tight leather outfit on. “Calling all freedom fighters, can you hear me?” she said.

I put on a small headset that fits into my ear, the possession of which was also an immediate death sentence, an order for condemnation and destruction of his entire building with me in it. I tapped a small triangular button now at his ear, and a small spherical camera floated up from its accustomed place on the shelf and floated over to me. As if it were a person, I looked at it.

“I’m here,” I said.

“Good, Andersen. Nice to have you with us. I thought we’d lost you during that last raid.”

“I thought I was dead, too. Thank you. It’s good to be alive.”

“We need you on the move.”

“This place isn’t safe anymore?”

“Not just that. Your orders have changed. It’s no longer a role of observation. We’re moving as many of our forces to Old Mexico as possible, and you’re next on the list.”

A list of names appeared on the display. Additional people were on the call.

“All of you coming online, that’s good to see,” she said. “We’re moving to Old Mexico. It’s time to get everything together before they do another sweep.”

“But it looks like the walker is still heading south,” I said.

“We’ve got someone inside, a small team actually, and they report the walker is about to double back.”

“But they never…”

“We know. They are changing their tactics again.” Pretty soon, they are going to be within range, and we’ll have to cut the signal off again. We need you to gather your essential kit and get on a hoverbike as quickly as you can. We’re going to meet at the old baseball stadium by the river, and go from there.”

The picture fizzled out, and then she appeared again, but she was looking the wrong way. She turned back again.

“They’re on the way. It’ll take them half an hour to turn the walker around. At least that’s in our favor. Now go. We’ll see you there.”

She fizzled one last time, and I was left with the compulsory wall of death, facing him again. If only he could turn the channel on it, but it was fixed.

On the table near the kitchen was a birthday cake, with a plastic 100 on top of it. I didn’t feel a day over thirty-five or forty, but it was my hundredth birthday today. I passed the leftover cake, which I’d largely eaten by myself without another thought, and went to the bathroom, into my bedroom, and then into the closet. In there, I rummaged through my clothes, pulled down shirt after shirt, looking, then just pulled down the entire bar and let everything fall to the floor. Behind it, was a small alcove cut into the wall, a crack in the sheetrock. I picked at it with my fingers and a crack split down. Another pull and I pulled a fist-sized chunk from the wall and threw it into the clothes. More wall, more mess, and I’d pulled free a large hole. I reached in, pulled out a medium-sized backpack, and put it on. It was already packed. I reached in again, and pulled out a motorcycle helmet, a rifle, already loaded, and a pair of thick boots.

I pulled them on.

I left the apartment with my rifle under one arm, and my helmet in the other, and holding the rifle under my arm, I locked the apartment with a little copper key and looked out the back of the stairwell. There was a sheer drop of about fifty feet off the back of the apartment complex. I reached out with the keys and activated a button on one of the key fobs.

There was a roar of an engine underneath him, and then it calmed down to a small whispering growl, and the hoverbike floated out from underneath the stairwell.

It rose, and I straddled it. Slipping the rifle into a small compartment on the side, and pulling on his helmet, I got on board. I gunned the engine, allowed the hoverbike to float out into the woods behind the apartments, and then flew it low and slow, and out of town. There were plenty of people on the road, and they dressed of them about the same as I was. Some of them were packing, and some were not, but the only thing true was that no one traveled on the ground anymore. I kept mostly to side roads, and small stretches of wood, but when I had to get on what was considered the highway, I was in such similar company or all by myself to where no one noticed me anymore.

I slid under a bridge and out into the country beyond, well out of the reaches of the road. Every once in a while I turned and would come near the road again, and one time I saw another walker slowly lumbering back towards town, and then the flash went off.

I shut my visor and brought the bike to the ground, which was already rumbling. Behind me, the mushroom-style tower of smoke rose above what I used to call home, or rather the city I used to call home. There was a rumble and a roar, and the ground shook underneath me. I revved up the engine and gunned it. I flew as trees around me fell and the ground opened up like a great crack unzipping and eating all the rocks and the vegetation like some insane and ravenous beast.

I dodged a pine tree on its way down, which, when it landed, created a bridge across a fresh crack in the ground for a moment before being swallowed itself.

I turned a corner and avoided another small bridge, collapsing behind me right after I flew under it, and could hear the walkers on the move again, trudging along. I pulled to a stop and revved the engine down so I could hear better.

Stomp.

Stomp.

Stomp.

Would they send out the drones?

I revved the bike up again and slid through a small grove before they caught up with me. They were about a foot across, spherical and covered in spikes and other whirling protrusions, and little red and blue lights in a pattern that made little sense.

A small swarm of flying drones was right behind me. They darted this way and that outside and inside the trees. One of them took to shooting off limbs, trying to get one to fall right in front of me, but I was already twitching in the other direction to avoid them.

I flew over a small gorge with them following me, and then through the spray of a waterfall, the power of which took two of them out. They were caught up in the water and dashed against the rocks below.

I swung around and through a series of trees at an ever-increasing speed, and nicked one tree, sending myself spinning. I could right myself just as another couple of drones hit the tree and exploded.

I pulled out the rifle, cocked it, and fired at the last two. One of them went down in a blaze of light. The other headed right for me.

I fired again and missed. It careened into me and knocked me to the ground. Limbs sprained or just plain broken, I flopped to the ground and lay there, breathing shallowly. The drone stopped in front of me.

It aimed.

It confirmed its target from a database back at the office.

All its little lights went red, and there was a hollow whining noise as the kill cannon aimed at me lit up with vibrant energy.

Then it exploded. There was a streaming blaze of energy from the ground to my left side.

The drone was overloaded with power.

It lurched and fell to the ground.

Then the three of them, all dressed in camouflage and grease paint, with leaves in their hair, stood up and fired again.

What was left of the drone was completely blown away?

The three of them, a woman, beautiful with deep black eyes and silvery hair, and two men, each a little worse for the wear, stood over me.

I tried to speak, but the pain was just too much. I tried to clench my sprained wrist with the hand on my broken arm and vomited into a small puddle filled with frogs.

“Who is he?” said the woman. “Do we take him with us?”

“I don’t know. He looks like one of us. He’s got the bike and the gear,” said one man.

“Let’s scan him,” said the woman.

She pulled a small circular scanner, and the men pried my eyes open.

She waved the little wand over my eyes and got a retinal scan.

“Oh God,” she said. “Get him on board.”

They pulled me into their craft, which was a modified old Jeep Wrangler with hover plates for tires, and they flew through the trees.

“I hope he’s worth it,” she said as I slowly lost consciousness.

When I awakened. I was sitting in a bathtub, naked, and covered in a viscous translucent jelly up to my neck.

“Where am I?”

“Safe,” said the woman from before. Her hair was now out of its helmet. Her jumpsuit was clean. She wore two pistols on her hips and a shotgun over her back.

“Right,” I said.

“Do you know where you are?”

“At the base, I assume, wherever that is.”

“Yes.”

She coughed and then continued. “We all thought you were dead.”

“Wishful thinking I suppose.”

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

“One of what?”

“One of the men who can’t die.”

“Yeah well, they don’t do it anymore do they?”

“Not since the walkers, no.”

“I suppose I could be killed. Hasn’t happened yet.”

She couldn’t have been over sixteen.

My eyes were coming back into focus.

People were milling about. The others who had found me were close by, but there was another group gathering around an acrylic board just a few feet away. They were pointing at different places on the map, and crossing off cities across America, each with a big letter X.

“What about my arm?”

“It’s almost healed,” said the one with the silver hair.

“Good.”

I pushed out of the tub of slime, which splattered everywhere.

“Hey, you’re not done yet!”

“I think I am.”

I stood up and slung off the healing slime, and reached out for the towel I was already being offered. I wiped the slime from my body and wrapped the towel around myself. Since the shot, I’ve always been a quick healer and that slime only makes it that much faster.

The men over by the acrylic board had heard the commotion, and their meeting had already broken up. They were watching me, and I was shambling toward them, my hair still wet from the slime. I stood before them.

“Any others like me?”

They shook their heads.

“How old are all of you?”

They murmured to themselves.

“How old? Come on now.”

I whipped my hand around at one of them and sent a sheet of slime their way.

They answered. Numbers from ten to twenty, but no higher. There was no one else. No one else still remembered it the way it used to be.

“Is it true?”

“Yes.”

“The serum keeps you young.”

“It kept many people very young, well, it just kept us from aging anymore.”

“How old are you?”

“A hundred today. Now, what’s going on?”

They pointed out the board. It was a representation of the world. Everything was in a grease pencil or dry-erase marker. There were little electronics around. Less to trace. Most of the major cities were destroyed. They were orange, with circles around them notating the radiation levels. There were also green triangles all over the place.

“What are the green triangles?”

“They are where we think the walkers are.”

“Let’s go take one down.”

“You’re serious.”

“Yes. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of all this. It’s all drones these days, anyway. Let’s take one down.”

“How do we do that?”

“They’re slow.”

In half an hour, they were all out and riding back toward town. I took the lead. On the way out of the city, I saw the walker that I passed.

An old mill that was broken down and in ruins was the place I led them through.

The walker stood over a lake, its feet completely submerged.

I made a hand gesture, a fist in the sky to get their attention, then motioned to the left and the right, and they circled the legs. They were usually upon three legs, tripod style with two off the ground, but this time the walker was still, with all five down. They split off into groups and started attacking the knees. They didn’t have lasers, they only had bullets, explosives, and old-style dynamite, but it was worth it. They lobbed dynamite into all the cracks and crevices they could find, and then, while the walker’s heads were trying to search for them, the knees exploded all the way around. The walker’s disk-shaped body fell into the lake, and the remains of its legs all stood around it.

A fog of steam flew up over them as they regrouped in search of their next target. 

Standard-Issue Partner, Chapter 7

Standard-Issue Partner
Neon lights flicker,
Machines replace flesh and bone,
Trust must still be earned.
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This is a draft version of a chapter from John Saye’s book, Standard-Issue Partner.

The deep and satisfying hum came from the engine of Flint’s aircar. “Simon!” he yelled. Can you cut us loose?”

Simon shook his head, clearing it, and produced a laser point of light from one of his fingers. He quickly burned through his own bindings, and very close to Flint, he managed those as well.

“Not going to do us much good though!” yelled Simon.

“Never fear!” yelled Flint, and below them, Flint’s aircar slowly lifted up to meet them.

Flint pulled himself into the driver’s seat, and Simon turned himself around, to sit down next to him. The cover slid over them, and they dropped off into the mountains, sliding behind one of them and landed on the smaller peak of another one.

Above them the ship was floating away, the large fish catcher already back in place.

“You think they know we escaped?”

“I don’t know, maybe. They’ll know for sure soon though.”

“I know we got a helluva mess here Flint!” said the Chief. “It’s just a mess all over. I’ve got the bureau coming down on me, the robot jocks out there trying to get their rocks off, and I’ve got some kind of sour smell under my nose that’s just making me sick! On top of it all, I’ve got the cops blasting me about their partners. Seems they’re all wondering if theirs are going to go berserk on them or not.”

Simon stiffened.

“Present company excluded Simon.”

“Not at all, sir. I think this illustrates the point.”

“Be that as it may, I’ve got a stiff call for you two. You’re going to have to take Roman down, and their whole lot with them.”

“Sir!”

“You started this Flint, with your trip out west. Nobody else is prepared to leave the city walls. In order to chase these guys, you’ll need everything you’ve got. The only question is what else can I give you?”

Flint started…

“If I may, sir?” asked Simon.

The chief nodded, “Yes Simon?”

“I was just thinking that what we really need is the scout vehicle we brought back earlier.”

“The salvage, yeah?”

“We could use it to get back in.”

“What do you want to do, plant a nuke in the ship?”

“Not really. I was thinking of something a little more drastic than that.”

“The whole building over the river?”

“It’s a start. They won’t be expecting a frontal assault, not this early anyway.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“If I’m wrong, we’re screwed. If I’m right, we may still be screwed.”

“But we’ve got to try.”

“Okay,” said the Chief, “I’ll get you whatever you need. When do you want to leave?”

“As soon as the sun’s up.”

“What’s your first move?”

“We’ve got a transmitter to follow.”

“When did you get a transmitter off?” asked Flint.

“While we were falling to our death. It snapped onto the hull while you were driving.”

They loaded up the flier. It looked like more of a giant airworthy lobster than anything else. It was copper in color, it’s forward claws studded with weapons and laser turrets. The cockpit was ready for two, but there was plenty of room in the hold.

The chief marched in, followed by various police workers who were loading the bombs onto the little scout. “We thought we’d load some other things onboard for you.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for starters we’re loading on your aircar. It’ll fit in there, and if you have to ditch, it might come in handy.”

“Sounds good.”

“We’re also loading on some of our smart bombs, half-robot, and half bomb.”

“Those could come in handy. What about personal weapons?”

“That’s a good question. Simon’s being fitted with a series of new weapons right now, and I’ve got this for you.”

He handed Flint a large pistol, with a square barrel, and a massive laser sight.

“What is this thing?”

“It’s new. Care to try it out? We can meet Simon down at the firing range.”

Downstairs, in the firing range, Flint lifted the new sidearm towards the target and pulled the trigger. A single shot rang out, blasting a square hole in the center of the target’s chest.

“Try it again,” said the Chief, “Only this time, we’ll make the target a little harder to hit.

The chief hit a button, and a hole opened up in the side of the firing range, releasing a spherical robot that swung around the room. It started firing on Flint.

Flint raised the new sidearm, which seemed to be pulsing in his hands and pulled the trigger. The weapon seemed to adjust based on the opponent’s level of strength. This time a series of laser beams shot out blazing across the room and tearing the robot to pieces.

“One more level,” said the Chief.

From behind the regular targets, a set of iron double doors opened, and from behind, a towering robotic figure stood. It stepped forward, and Flint realized it was little more than a series of laser weapons on legs.

Flint raised the sidearm and blasted it, but this time the gun fired miniature rockets, which buzzed around and impacted the massive robot from all angles. It exploded and flopped over, its legs remained standing, though all the rest of it fell in a heap.

Flint holstered the weapon. “I think we’re ready to go.”

“Not quite. Wait until you get a load of Simon.”

Simon stepped into the room.

He blinked and his eyes were replaced with lasers. He fired them at a nearby target, disintegrating it. He blinked again, and his eyes returned to normal.

“That’s not all,” said the Chief.

Simon blinked again, and his hands swiveled and fell forward on a hinge. From the wrists protruded two of the square barrels. “He’s got double the firepower, and it’s all concealed.”

“This is the best part,” said Simon, “at least I think it is.”

His legs opened up from the knees down, and four mounted missiles descended and fired off into the target area. The targets were not hit with a precise blow. They were totally demolished. bits and pieces of the targets flew in all directions. They smashed off the walls and blew chunks and shards in all directions. There was smoke everywhere. Slowly, the curtain began to rise, and clear. Auto-vacs in the wall sucked the smoke from the building, and the alarm system came on, flashing red lights around them.

The Chief pulled the alarm switch, disengaging it.

“I believe we are ready to go then,” said Flint with a slight laugh.

“What?” said Simon.

“That’s something.”

“Oh, come on! That was great!”

“Yep, great.” Flint left the firing range, feeling somewhat uplifted.

Simon followed him out.

They returned to the hangar bay, to finish prepping the ship. Everything was loaded, the ship was fueled, weapons were deployed, and all the safeties were off.

Simon and Flint boarded, choosing ladders on both sides. They put on flight helmets and settled themselves in.

“Rollback the dome,” said Flint.

Simon hit a switch and the side of the building rolled back like an enormous garage door.

“You want to drive?” asked Flint.

“Are you serious?”

“Take us away. I’ll start with the scanning. I want to make sure these bastards aren’t hiding over the hill.”

“You got it.”

Simon pulled the ship up, and took her out, gliding over the rooftops. He was taking the corners a little closer than Flint would have liked, but he was a robot. Maybe he did everything like this. He was going to have to get used to it eventually.

“I have a question for you Simon.”

“Yes?”

“What happens when I get too old to be your partner?”

Simon thought about this for a moment.

“I don’t know.”

“Isn’t that special.”

“I suppose it is. I really have no idea, I assume I’ll be reassigned to a rookie.”

“Won’t that be nice.”

“Of course that won’t happen until after you’re dead.”

“No?”

“No. I’m assigned to you for life, that’s the first part of the deal when you sign on to take a robotic partner. But don’t worry about that anyway. You’re ninety-five. You’ve still got a good hundred years in you at the least.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“I know I’m right.”

“Are you always right?”

“No. I wasn’t right about you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“For a human.”

“That so?”

“For a while there I thought you took some awful risks.”

“Hmm…”

“And then I realized that you weren’t taking risks that you hadn’t calculated. You knew exactly where all those dives were headed, and how all those acrobatics were going to pan out. You even calculate where all your shots are going to land. Sometimes even the missed ones, for effect. You’re a genius.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“Of course you’re also a tremendous screw-up, and I think you know it.”

“What?”

“For instance, our man Roman is on the monitor screen, at least the signature of his big fishing craft, and you haven’t noticed it yet. I managed to continue driving. If it’s one thing humans can’t do very well, it’s multitasking.”

“Ah-ha, you see there, they’re right where I said they’d be. I can’t multitask… About that, you might be right, but I can still run circles around you with experience.”

“Can you?”

“I hope so, otherwise we’re all going to be robots, and there won’t be any humans on the force. Take her down slowly, we don’t want to draw too much attention yet.”

“Gotcha. But there you might be right. I think the use of human/robot teams is crucial. You’ve got the scientific half, good analyzing, taking samples, killing anything we need to, and then there’s you, with a completely chaotic mind”

“Chaotic?”

“Sure, what better way to make sure you’ve got the best of both worlds? I can be anal and analytical, and you can always come at a problem from a different angle. It’ll be as if there’s nothing we can’t solve together.”

“It’s also like having a laptop that talks, and walks around and does things before I’m ready for them.”

“This is also true, and here is an example.”

Simon dived out of the way of an oncoming missile. It barely missed them, grazing the ship underneath. Simon flipped the ship over and hugged the ground. His work at the controls was totally precise. He was able to hug the rocky ground in a way that Flint knew there was no way he could do.

“Flint?”

“Yeah?”

“You want to get on those guns?”

“Oh, yeah!”

Flint took the controls of his weapons station and started firing rounds off. He launched rockets and watched as like size and shaped ships plummeted to the Earth around them.

“Nice work,” said Simon.

“You’re not the only one that’s good at stuff.”

“You seem to be doing well.”

“You could call it ‘Particularly Gifted’ but I like to think of it as Damn Good!”

He blazed away at the oncoming craft. The large ship blasted off and began to lumber into the sky.

“Now they’ll send out the big guns,” said Simon.

“The more the merrier. Bring ’em on!”

Simon dodged and dived, and Flint continued to blaze away.

“So, what’s your plan?” asked Simon.

“Well, we’re going to get hit, and go down, then when they send out a search party, we’re going to get aboard the ship.”

“How’s that going to work?”

“Watch and learn amigo. Turn into a blast.”

“What?”

“We’ll survive the crash.”

“But…”

“No arguments!”

Simon shook his head and then performed a brilliant move that clipped them by a stray laser beam without really doing much harm to the ship.

“That was great, now hit one of the big missiles.”

“Flint, now come on!”

“Do as I say!”

Simon twitched and then hit one of the main missiles. On impact, it hit the ship and the front exploded in a giant fireball.

“Perfect!”

“Perfect!? We’re going down now.”

“No, we ain’t. Watch. Come on, we’re getting into the aircar.”

They trundled back to the cargo hold, and got down in the cockpit of the car, the original ship swishing and turning around them as they headed for the hillside.

At the last second, with the hover car’s engines roaring, they ejected, and quickly zipped down by a hillside, hugging the earth for cover. The stolen ship smashed into another hillside, exploding in a shower of a thousand pieces.

“Perfect.”

Simon just shook his head.

“Watch.”

The ships returned to the mother, their job complete, and the whole thing settled down on the dusty plain, coming to a rest.

“Now that they think we’re dead, we can sneak up, and see their next big meeting.”

“What makes you think they’ll have one.”

“These kinds of guys always have big staff meetings to endear their henchmen to them. It’s the kind of thing they do.”

“Oh.”

“Then why did we have to blow up the scout?”

“Chaotic, right?”

“Right.”

“Works don’t it?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

They powered down the aircraft, and suited up, taking as many firearms as they could take with them.

They left the aircar behind and crouched into the brush on their way around the hill to the ship. Flint touched a button on his belt, and the hovercar lifted off and flew out of sight.

“Are you getting rid of it?”

“Nah, just keeping it out of range. If we need it, we’ll get her back in no time.”

“I’ve been wondering.”

“Yeah?”

“How come the aircar never needs to be recharged and I have to go into the charger every couple of days at least?”

“Good question. Some of the robots we’ve built have power plants capable of sustaining them for several months, and it’s not a problem.”

“What’s the catch?”

“They were about fifty feet tall. Only good for warfare.”

“Any still around? They might be useful.”

“Not that I know of.”

Flint scrubbed through the brush, and on the other side of a small embankment was the ship. It sat there, gleaming in the sun like an overgrown, waterlogged frog.

“So, how are we going to get inside this time?”

“The easy way.”

“Right. Doesn’t the easy way for you entail some kind of acrobatic, hair raising stunt?”

“What, you can’t keep up with the old man?”

Simon shrugged.

“Don’t worry. I’m thinking of something much less dangerous this time.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t believe me?”

Simon shook his head.

“Watch.”

A series of robots were loading boxes full of spare parts onto the ship. They were in a series and locked in a small hangar. The robots were lifting them onto a large conveyor belt that snaked its way into the bowels of the ship.

“What, you want us to get into that storage bunker and slip into one of the crates, and somehow not be noticed by all these guards and robots. Hell if I can spot them they’ve likely spotted us anyway.”

“They haven’t spotted us, and no, not the crates, at least not yet. It’s the belt.”

“What about the belt?”

“Under the belt.”

“But that’s going back into the bunker.”

“Right, and we can hop a crate once we’re inside.”

“Bonkers.”

“What?”

“Bonkers.”

“Come on.”

“Oh, what the hell? Anything for a short life.”

They snuck up to a bend in the conveyer belt, which turned out to be not such a spectacular feat, and then grabbed on, latching themselves to the underside of the belt. It zigzagged its way back into the bunker, and they were thrown off at the end, crashing into a pile of rubbish.

Two loading robots were in there, pulling the manual labor, pulling boxes and putting them on the rack.

“Just what I was hoping for. They can’t recognize a fat rabbit. Pick a crate.”

They picked a large crate towards the back of the room, discarding some of the innards, and pushing in some foam packing material to make the trip just a touch less jumpy.

They sealed the lid on themselves with a hand tool of Simon’s just seconds before they were lifted into the air by the packing robots.

Inside the crate it was dark. Lighting a flashlight only revealed the packing peanuts close to their faces. They swam through the plastic chips, searching for each other’s lights.

Outside the crate, it slid up the ramp, and into the ship, where an additional three thousand pound crate was dropped on them, sealing them in tight.

“Terrific,” said Simon.

“Don’t panic.”

Flint grinned, but Simon couldn’t see him through the peanuts.

“Now what?”

“Now we wait.”

There was a cold hard silence. Then they were able to discern footsteps around them. Some were human, bare feet padding on the concrete deck, and the others were robotic in nature, a little too regular for the common man to make his footsteps.

Soon the engine started, and after a lurching motion that was better, upending Flint’s guts into the packing material.

They were off.

The trip was long and hard. The hum of the engines beneath them just made Flint want to go to the bathroom. Before long, the crate above them was lifted, and the sunlight of the setting sun poured in on them, along with the dark outlines of two loading robots.

Red lights flashed on their heads, and with a shout, and a blast from Simon’s arm pistol, they were both silenced. They hit the floor with a clang.

“That’s made a noise.”

“Good bet they’re coming.”

“Come on.”

They leaped over the side of their recent enclosure and dove into the tank. Recent fishing had been done. They landed on a small sea of recently caught, flipping, fiddling, fighting salmon.

“What the?”

Simon reached over and pushed Flint under the water just as two guards walked by.

They popped up.

“That was close,” said Flint.

“Could have been closer. Here…”

Simon handed him a small re-breather. “You know how to work this?”

“Yes.”

“Good, now get back under!”

They both dived and were surrounded by the fish, who seemed to have taken a liking to them, protecting them from getting a full-on look at anything.

Lasers blazed above them. There was a lot of shouting, and then the worst seemed to happen, the fish opened up, just a natural swimming pattern, but there it was, or rather there they were above them, the two Romans.

“Well,” said the fake Roman, “What do we have here?”

“Looks like some fish,” said the real one.

“I think we’re going to have to throw them back.”

The other nodded.

“You know, I don’t even like the smell of fish.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I think so.”

“What about the slaves?”

“They can starve until we get another catch. What do you say?”

They smiled and together pulled a series of levers. Below them, a bubble surfaced. Then another much larger one. Then all began to spiral out of the bottom of the tank. The fish were falling, the water was plummeting to the ground, and so were Flint and Simon. Instinctively they pointed their grapples to the sky and fired them. Latching onto the rim of the tank, they screamed back up into the sky, landing on their feet in front of Roman, and the other Roman.

“Clever,” they said together. “Clever indeed.”

“We’re full of surprises,” Flint and Simon said together.

They punched the two Romans and were punched back. The robot guards began to provide cover fire, blazing around them. The two Romans split up and headed in different directions.

“It’s time to take this place apart,” said Simon.

“I think you’re getting the hang of this, said Flint.

They opened fire and decimated the oncoming force. Robot arms and legs went everywhere. Some landed in the tank, others seemed to stick to the walls, there was such a level of salt and dust in here, and others seemed yet to explode right in front of them. Their pistols chose the appropriate firing method, sometimes dispensing bullets, lasers, or rocket grenades depending on the target. At one point a series of large circular robots floated into the room, and Simon’s gun made mincemeat out of them, but not before one of Flint’s grenades shot out and blew a hole in them from the back.

They checked their weapons after a quick re-load. Everything was smooth and normal again, save for the bodies everywhere anyway. Flint kicked one of them and its head popped off, skittering up the metal flooring.

“Let’s do it.”

Simon nodded.

Together, they laced the tank with high-end explosives, each the size of a deck of cards. Every once-in-a-while they had to shoot off another guard but were otherwise left unhindered. When they were all up, they activated them, and one-by-one a little green light came on in sequence.

“We’re set.”

They jumped down through the opening at the bottom of the tank, and sailed down to the ground, within sight of the robot’s facility, by the use of small extendable hang gliders.

The ship lumbered in the distance, badly shaken. From the look of it, several ships were abandoning, heading for the robot facility.

It rocked with the first explosion, which sent a plume of smoke from the lower hold of the craft.

They watched as a second, and a more powerful explosion rocked the ship, destroying its stabilizers and knocking it over so that it seemed to drift up the river on its side.

Flint called his aircar, which came, racing up from beyond the hill.

Simon just watched as the last explosion hit the fishing ship, and it exploded in a blaze of light. It crashed into the river, and upended, slowly sinking in a cloud of steam and bubbles. It managed to get halfway sunken under the river’s surface when it stopped, resting quietly on the bottom.

As soon as Simon was sure it was over, a secondary explosion rocked its core, and the entire ship exploded sending clouds of smoke and ash into the sky. The remainder of the craft sunk under the water, separated from its upper half. It bubbled away into the murky green.

Flint and Simon climbed into the hovercar and Flint put it in gear. “You still got a charge of grapple bolts?”

“As always.’

“That’s the way it should be.”

“Can’t leave home without ’em.”

“Hell, I even take one to bed.”

“Flint…”

“What?”

“You have issues.”

“I know. It’s time to blow up that place over there but first I think we need to split up.”

“Sir?”

“Roman, and his metallic brother Roman, just made their exit, but they went in separate directions. Now I’m not sure, but I’ll bet that the best way to stop those two is going to be to split up.

“I’ll go after the robot,” said Simon.

“And I’ll take the meat stick.”

“We’ve still got to get closer though.”

“True. Hop in.”

Simon slid aboard the aircar, and Flint took off. They kept low, but the security was really on now, they really didn’t have a chance of getting to the city without attracting more attention.

Underneath Flint’s car, the Real Roman hung on for his life. Without a word, he clung to their frame, beyond that he knew nothing. All he did was concentrate on being alive, and stuck to the vehicle. He closed his eyes and pulled himself up straight.

They took the low road, skimming close to the bushes and trees, bumping Roman’s ass all the way, but he never made a sound, at least not an audible one, and pulled up under the city.

Flint pointed his pistol to the underside of the structure and pulled the trigger. From his weapon out streaked a small grenade-like missile. It soared up and impacted the building, blowing a hole in one of the entry bays. A ship fell from the bay and crashed into the river below. He guided the ship up, and into the bay, then locked down his car, and jumped out.

“Simon?”

“Flint?”

“Good then. We’ll split up, and meet back here to blow this place to smithereens.”

“Good luck.”

“Do robots believe in luck?”

“We don’t believe in anything, but I believe in you.”

They parted. Simon made it through a blast door and on into the building. Roman fell from the bottom of the flyer. He was no longer able to hold on.

Flint stooped to look under, his gun drawn and armed.

Their eyes locked.

“Roman.”

“Flint.”

Roman got gingerly to his feet.

“It seems you have the advantage, Flint. Why not go ahead and shoot me?”

“I want to know a couple of things first.”

“Like what? Would you like to know if I ever thought I could succeed?”

“Yes.”

“Then I believe the answer to that one is Yes, and I still think I can.”

“You’re nothing.”

“No. I’m afraid not.”

Flint’s trigger finger was getting itchy.

“No the robot,” said Roman, “I mean… There’s no telling whose side he’s on now is there?”

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s a robot. Do you really think he’s not going to turn?”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on! He’s a robot, you’re a human. He probably sleeps in your closet or something. Tell me, just how do you treat your robots?”

“Well, I haven’t…”

“Haven’t thought of it, right, that’s what I keep telling you, folks. When are you going to wise up?”

“Hey… We… I…”

“That’s just what I thought. They’ve got rights too you know! It’s not what all of this is about. I’ve got to tell you, this is about the best way to get into some kind of arrangement with them, I mean before the end of the world and all there is are robots. You know they’ll want to vote soon?”

“Vote?”

“What is all this some kind of a news flash for you? They’re the superior beings now, they are the next step. Human evolution is in the crapper once these guys take control, and they will, so I may as well be on top.”

“On top?”

If he could just keep him talking he could get through this.

“Nah, you don’t even know. You’re all a bunch of losers. That’s the problem with humanity.”

“The problem?”

“Yeah, you’re all a bunch of suckers!”

Roman blasted Flint in the left shoulder. The burn was deep, but not that bad, mostly surface scarring. Flint hit the floor and tried to push himself to his feet.

“And that’s another thing with you humans, always sitting in your towers, playing God. Who’s gonna clean up this mess? Nuclear radiation, you’re dumping into what you call ‘The Wastelands,’ it’s all a crock of…”

“The wastelands aren’t from nuclear waste; we’re not even using any.”

“The hell you aren’t. You don’t even know, do you? You don’t know how bad it really is. You’re pathetic.”

Flint moved to get up but thought better of it. He wasn’t really ready for it. His shoulder gave, and he slumped back down to the ground.

“So you want to know why we’re after your precious cities?”

“Tell me.”

“They’re the last place left unless we start hiking it to the moon, and while that’s great for the robots, it doesn’t much make for a good day on my end of the spectrum.”

“That’s right. You’re human. You’re just like the rest of us, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re just as self-centered, and egotistical as all the rest of us. It’s you! You’re the fool in all of this! You’re the one who can’t keep it together!”

Flint pushed up on his burned shoulder.

Roman sat down next to Flint and toyed with the gun in his hand.

“The thing is Flint, I could end it all right now. I could kill us both, and it wouldn’t make a lick of difference in the long run. Sure the Robots would be without a leader for a while, but they would straighten that out, and now the thing is set, they are coming, and there’s nothing that’s going to stop us. We could both die, at this moment, and it wouldn’t make a damn.”

“You know, you’re right. It wouldn’t. It wouldn’t make a damn. We could both kill each other right now, and there’s not a thing that could make any of this any better.”

“Now you’re getting it.”

“Yeah, it’s like a tidal wave just hit me. It’s all filling in, all the blanks; it’s all about this moment. It’s just the ticket. I know it’s something that we’re all going to be in for later.”

“Now you’re starting to see it. What’s it like? What do you think?”

“Let’s do it, right now, together. We’ll blow our brains out.”

Flint held the square barrel to his head and began to twitch at the trigger.

Roman stood up and put his own laser to his temple.

They stared each other down, first the left eye, and then the right. They came together in a momentary glance, and their fingers began to pull on their triggers.

Sweat poured from their brows.

“Are you ready?” asked Roman.

“Are you?”

“Let’s do it. Let’s bring all of this to a spectacular end.”

“In one fell swoop, let’s bring the robots into the future, end the debate on evolution, and make it all happen.”

They pulled their triggers…

Two climbers sit atop a mountain peak under a brilliant starry sky, gazing at the world below. A futuristic air car hovers nearby, symbolizing adventure, progress, and the evolving concept of longevity in a technologically advanced future.

Longevity, Chapter 3: 2050

Longevity and Other Stories
A life without end,
stars call from the endless night,
time slips through our hands.
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This is a draft version of a chapter from John Saye’s book, Longevity and Other Stories. If you are daring, why not subscribe to my newsletter (they come few and far between), and I’ll send you a PDF copy of the book?

“It’s interesting is all I can say,” I said as I wedged my fingers into the crack of the rock face in front of me. “Sarah’s getting married now, and it just doesn’t seem all that real. I always heard that life seemed to speed up as you got older, but it just seemed like yesterday to me.”

Henry dangled next to me and swung about, trying for a better hold. The cables that were holding us up weren’t going anywhere. You could hold up a suspension bridge with them. Thin as a pencil, but pound for pound, it was rated to hold up a Mack truck with a single strand in a hurricane. They were already replacing the supports on major bridges with the stuff, and it held more than one little kid’s tire swing up with no fear of breaking. If anything, the tire would split first, but since they were so strong these days, you had to practically shred them yourself just to get rid of them when they came off the cars by brute force. They were a nuisance, and it wasn’t long before most of the houses had been shingled with reprocessed tires.

I pulled at my rope, and it didn’t budge. Three hundred feet in the air, and I was comfortable enough to pull out my lunch.

Henry stopped bobbling about and turned to face me.

I held out a sandwich and a squeeze bottle of coffee, and Henry took them.

After scalding his upper lip with some poor aim, he took to the sandwich and munched at it.

“Do you love her, Henry?” I said. “Do you love Sarah?”

“Yes sir, I do,” said Henry through a mouth full of a tuna salad sandwich.

“That’s good.”

Henry gave me a wary look. I still wasn’t sure I liked him.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to scare you, or anything as foolish as that.”

“I know.”

“I just had to be sure. Here’s the thing, son,” I said.

“I love her mother more than just about anything in the world. I worship the quicksand she walks on.”

I took a sip from my coffee and then said: “Would you die for her?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s good to hear. Now I’m going to tell you something that you probably will not expect.”

“Sir?”

“I want you to make the rules together.”

“The rules.”

“Yes, the rules. I don’t want you to listen to me, or anyone else, in laying down the law in your household. Don’t let us tell you what to do. Don’t let your parents tell you what to do. Don’t fall into a rut and do what you think society wants to tell you to do, either.”

“What should I do then?”

“You should make your own decisions. Are you going to this church or to that one, you and she, you decide together? Are you going to have children or not?”

“We were…”

“I mean, just don’t let us pressure you. There’s no point, anyway. You need to make all those kinds of decisions together. Take your time and get to know each other as much as you can.”

Henry nodded.

“Of course, that’s something that you can ignore, too. If you both thought it was right, and you wanted to run away together rather than having this big wedding we’re planning, then that’s what you should do.”

Jacob reached out a finger that looked like the finger of a thirty-year-old to him and poked the twenty-something Henry in the chest with it. He thought it should look older than it did, that it should have some spots or something, that some of his hair should be gray, but none of it was. There might be the occasional stray gray, but they were so few that they barely counted.

“That’s what I mean though,” I said. “It’s all about you and her deciding. Sarah’s one of my favorite people in the world, and not just because she’s my daughter. She’s bright and intelligent, and one of the happiest people I’ve ever met. She’s got this way of making you smile just by winking at you.”

“I know. I love that about her.”

“Good. You keep that, and here is the hardest part, well two parts that I’m certain are hard for me to say because I’m still working through them all in my head. Are you ready?”

“I think so.”

Henry burned himself, missing the coffee again.

“Here, stick that thing in your mouth when you do that.”

Jacob reached over and handed Henry a handkerchief, which Henry immediately dropped, then sheepishly wiped at his face with his hands again.

“Sorry about that.”

“Okay, here it is. First, if you and she decided not to take the shot, then I will not get upset about that. We’ll keep it to ourselves, and we’ll never speak of it, and if you need to move and take my daughter far away from me, then that’s what you’ve got to do. I’ll always see her someday. It’s not like we don’t have constant video streaming all the time. Even on this mountain, we could probably call her if we wanted to.”

Henry thought about it for a moment.

“First, while we’re not planning to move soon, we’re staying in the city. I thank you for that freedom. You never know when you’ll need to make a move somewhere. As for the shot. We’ve already taken it.”

I nodded. It’s what I had expected, and it wasn’t a big surprise.

“Dutiful son,” I said. “Good. Now let’s get up this mountain.”

We put away our lunches and climbed, first using our cables to get back in line with the rock face, and then up it was, finger after finger, and step after step, and inch by inch we made our way to the top.

We pushed up, and stood on the peak, a small flat place, about large enough to spread out and sit, and checked the equipment the guide had left there the day before. There was a strong clamp, holding all the cables in place. They still did not release those, even now. It was too easy to step off and opened a pack that had been left for them in a sturdy box, also clamped to the rock’s surface.

The box contained a couple of sleeping bags and a cooler with bottles of water and enough food for another couple of meals in it.

We spread out the sleeping bags. On the bottom side of the bags, small clamps, about the size of bottle caps were lined around the edges, and once the sleeping bags were laid down, and a button was pressed there was a small hiss, and the small metallic clamps locked them into place.

We spread out on the peak, folded our hands behind our heads, and looked at the sky.

Clouds were passing overhead, but it didn’t look like much. There were deep swirls and dark areas that looked pregnant with rain, but they would drop it somewhere else. They let the wind blow over their bodies, and they kept their eyes glued to the sky.

The clouds soon gave way to an open blue sky with occasional wisps of clouds in the distance. They watched the hawks, and eagles circling high above them, and the ravens that were tormenting them, and distracting them from their search for prey, pecking at their backs, and swooping in and out between them.

The hawks would fight back and fend them off, sometimes swooping down to fly somewhere else, but the eagles would just rise higher, and leave the ravens behind where they couldn’t reach them anymore.

Twilight overtook us, and the stars came out. It was going to be a nearly moonless night, and the closest city was miles and miles away from them. We kept our flashlights off and let our eyes adjust to the almost total darkness. The heavens opened up, and they could see thousands and thousands of stars. The constellations were easy to pick out, and with very little in their field of vision around them they could relax their minds and observe them by the Earth’s turning, the stars seemed to slowly rotate around us like a massive dome that was being rolled over them. After a couple of hours, we could see the galactic disk, where the largest concentration of stars was, where the rest of the Milky Way spun on into the night.

We also counted the satellites. Most of them followed similar paths, but we thought they could also see the remains of Russia’s space station, and Europe’s new Low Earth Orbit station. The US had one as well, but it didn’t come into view this night. Orbit stations looked like small moons, but dull metal instead of bright like the real moon, and about five percent the size of the moon to our eyes. Out there, fifteen people lived full time, sometimes swapping with extra crew members sent up on one of sixteen shuttles that might be on missions at any one time.

Later we found the constellation Pegasus and counted the stars we could see inside the square. I could see three more than Henry could, but Henry didn’t know I was bluffing.

“Do you think there’s anyone out there?” said Henry. He almost whispered it.

“Gotta be, right?”

A v-formation of jets flew over us and banked toward the south. It shook the mountain we were on and rustled the nearby brush.

“Woo,” I said.

We pushed up on our elbows and kept our eyes on the skies.

“A friend of mine once said that if there was life found elsewhere in the universe, it would be something boring like polar bears or something.”

We watched as the stars turned and turned above us.

We counted the satellites in silence for a while.

About an hour later, Henry’s arm popped into the sky as a shooting star went by. It streaked across in a long line and burned out.

“I’ve never seen one of those!” said Henry.

“What, the shooting star?”

“Yeah.”

“It won’t be the last. We’ll probably see a couple more of them tonight.”

Another one flashed by, and Jacob pushed up on one of his elbows. “Interesting,” he said.

Three more flashed across the sky, all in the same direction.

Zing! Zing! Zing!

We could almost hear them.

“That’s just amazing.”

“Look, another one.”

Henry smiled, and I was thinking about it a little.

“Now that I think of it, I think we might be in for a pretty magnificent show tonight. What a night to do this.”

“Why?”

“Looks like it’s a full meteor shower.”

Another one zipped by.

“How many might we see?”

“Could be a couple hundred.”

We sat back and thought about it, and watched the sky as one after another lit the night up, and the spark of life surrounded them. We saw hundreds and hundreds of them before the morning came.

In the early hours of the morning, before Henry rose for the day, I sat on the edge and drank an instant cup of coffee. All I had to do was pull on a tab near the edge of the cup, and it heated. I drank at it and checked my mobile.

I tapped a code into it and smiled. In the distance, I could hear the engine of my air car heating. Way down below, its headlights came on and slowly rose to us. I stored away my sleeping bag and camping gear. I stuffed them into my backpack and got dressed. Shoes on, I was ready.

Henry pushed and sat up. “What’s going on?”

I smiled at him.

“Hate to do this to you, Henry. We’ve had a good night. If you love my daughter, you’ll forgive me for this, but I want to test you just a little.”

The car rose, and the door opened.

“Are you going to leave me up here?”

“Yes, I am.”

I stepped into the car, where another pack was.

“But I will not leave you like this.”

I tossed the extra pack onto the mountain with Henry.

“Extra supplies.”

I smiled and waved as I drove off.

Henry never said another word.

I pulled away and lit up a display to my left.

“Let’s turn on that tracker, yeah?”

I hit a button, and a small blip appeared on the monitor.

“There he is. That’s good. He’s kept the pack I gave him. That’ll make him easier to track.”

The blip was moving fast.

“Oh, he’s good. Look at that. He’s already on the way down.”

The blip was plummeting to the ground, and fast.

“Very interesting.”

I banked to the left and circled the mountain. On the side of the mountain, he could see Henry repelling down, and not taking his time. Henry deftly hit all the right spots and made all the right jumps. He was heading down quickly.

I pulled the car around and touched down next to a small restaurant at the mountain’s base. I pulled in and parked in an open spot, and got out of the car. As I shut the door and looked up, I saw Henry there, sitting in a rocking chair I swore was empty as I landed.

Henry was out of breath. His face and arms and legs were covered in scratches. There was a branch sticking out of one of his jacket pockets, and there was a cut across his forehead that was bleeding, but not dangerously.

“Hello there Henry,” I said, how’s my son-in-law?”

“Good thanks, Never better.”

He shook off the last strap from the parachute, then got up, and we went into the restaurant together.

“How old do I look?” I said.

“I don’t know,” said Henry. “You look grown.”

“Interesting. I suppose that’s true. I’m fifty. Fifty today.”

“Are you? You look like you might be one of my friends.”

We placed orders, picking from a video menu built into the table. The table showed them their food being prepped in the back, and a small progress bar filled up from left to right.

We could see the meal being called to the cooks. 10%.

Then we watched as the cooks put their meals on. 20%.

Our steaks and eggs cooked and were flipped as the waffles went onto the iron. 30%.

Someone set up our plates on a tray. 40%.

One plate went down. 50%.

Another plate went down. 60%.

Waffles came off the iron and were plated. 70% and 80%.

The coffee finished brewing. 90%.

Coffee was poured up. 100%.

Then someone picked up the tray and headed out to meet us. Before the food hit the table, I watched as my bank account was hit for the total.

We dug in.

Henry allowed the cut on his head to continue to bleed.

We bit into our perfect steaks and ate our waffles.

A small trickle landed on Henry’s shirt.

I reached out and wiped Henry’s forehead. Henry applied a small stick to the cut. It looked like a small chapstick, and the cut healed over.

Henry stood up, and we faced each other.

I cleaned him up, removed the sticks and brush from him, and tended his other wounds.

Then I grabbed Henry in a massive bear hug.

“My son.”

They left the restaurant, and on our way back out to the cars, I stopped.

“I wanted to give this to you.”

“What’s this?”

I handed him a small card.

Henry took it.

“It’s a cash card.”

“How much is on it?”

“Enough to get you going.”

“How much?”

“Check it out yourself.”

Henry turned to a kiosk by the door and scanned the card.

“Please activate this card,” said a voice.

Henry pressed the activate button.

“Choose a pin,” said the voice.

Henry punched one in.

“Thank you,” said the voice. “Processing.”

A moment later, there was a ding, and the process was over.

Henry checked the screen for the balance.

“Are you serious?”

I kept silent.

“Sir?”

Henry pocketed the card.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Take care of my daughter. Don’t cheat on her. Don’t be an ass. Makeup after fights. Enjoy your life. Make sure you do something interesting with your life.”

“I can’t thank you enough.”

“I think you’ll have enough opportunities too. If you live as long as I think I’m going to, then you will have plenty of chances. It won’t last forever. One drawback to living this long all the time is that you’ll have to work longer, and the most likely cause of death is that of a deadly accident… Take nothing for granted.”

Henry got into his air car and pulled up into the sky. He drifted over the trees, and headed out, on his way to see Sarah again. He did it with a wave and a smile, as beaten as he looked by the quick return to ground level.

I got back into my air car.

Sitting on the dash was a card from Henry.

I opened it. A small dog was salivating over a bone on the front. Inside was a handwritten note.

It read, “I’ve drained the fuel from your air car, and taken your reserve can from the back. I love you too. See you at the wedding.”

I had to laugh. A little at first, and then longer and louder.

I stepped out of the car, locked it, and started the lonely trek to the next fuel station.

Standard-Issue Partner, Chapter 6

Standard-Issue Partner
Neon lights flicker,
Machines replace flesh and bone,
Trust must still be earned.
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Amazon - Books2Read

This is a draft version of a chapter from John Saye’s book, Standard-Issue Partner.

Simon did most of the piloting on the way back. He could easily figure out the mechanisms in the yacht, and Flint needed the rest, his human body had had just about enough. He decked out in the front of the yacht and watched as the clouds passed him overhead until he fell asleep in the sun.

Simon entertained himself with a detailed examination of the ship’s capabilities, not to mention the three-dimensional holographic message system. It had a host of other features that catered directly to the robot workers who the boat was intended for. He plugged in and managed to charge faster than he was using energy, and would arrive at the base later with a complete understanding of the ship, as well as a good charge. If working with Flint had taught him anything, it was that you never knew where you were going to end up, and you never knew how far from a charging station you were going to be.

He piloted the boat on a more-or-less direct heading for city central, and let the computer do the rest. He checked and rechecked for any devices or programs in the system that could give out their whereabouts, and without much trouble, he was able to disable several of these kinds of tracking programs. There was a camera on the front that was detailing just where they were going. Simon knocked it out. In addition, he ripped off the camera and threw it to the ground below.

They passed massive buffalo herds, and monstrous congregations of geese and other waterfowl. It was amazing to Flint, who for the last seventy years had only really known the major cities, Central in particular, that there was anything out here that was still alive.

A flock, rather an army of ducks flew over them in V formation, and Flint thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. They were so honest up there, just ducks, living out there ducky little lives. No one was shooting at them or turning them into foie gras. It was a simple life, and he longed for it. Maybe he would retire, and move out of the cities and take his chances.

They checked through the entrance gate to the city, having to send in Flint’s clearance code manually, and landed the yacht on the top of the main police tower.

The Chief was there to meet them.

They slid off the yacht and landed on their feet beside it.

“We are glad to have you back. My God, look at this thing,” said the Chief.

“I know, it’s strange isn’t it?”

Simon shored up the craft. “We need to have this moved almost immediately. Chief, do you have a place I can take it to study?”

“Sure,” said the Chief. He handed Simon a clearance card. “Take it to this docking bay.”

“Got it. Flint?”

“I’ll see you in a bit. I’ll let in the Chief here.”

“Will do.” Soon Simon was on his way.

“What did you see out there?”

“It was insane boss,” said Flint. “It’s the robots.”

“What about them? You’re not quitting now are you?”

“No, that’s not it. They’re robots out there. A whole complex up over the old Grand Canyon. It’s all robots, and what aren’t robots are human slaves. People who have become stranded out there.”

“How did you escape?”

“I’ll tell you later, that’s beside the point. The important part is that they are a threat, and they plan to come in and take over, one by one, and they’re going to start with this one, they may have already done so.”

“I don’t know Flint.”

“Chief, they can look like us, they can alter their shape, they can do almost anything we can do, and they can do it with ease. I saw Simon do things that I’ve only seen highly trained humans doing, all kinds of acrobatics. It was amazing.”

“Even still, how sure are you about this place.”

“I’ll show you. It’s way off the zone we usually look in.”

They went into a small meeting room hooked to a computer, and Flint closed the door. He turned on a small projector, and called up the coordinates for the Grand Canyon and started to scan.

“Funny, the satellite doesn’t want to look out that far.”

“Because we think there’s nothing there.”

“Look.” He pointed it out, the structure they had just spent time in.

“Yeah, it looks like a temple of some kind. A dome. I’ve heard rumors about this, that the savages out in the west were building temples and other large structures here and there, this one is amazing though.”

“Yeah, and it is a temple, that’s definitely true, but the believers are all robots.”

“And their leader?”

“Roman.”

“What?”

“It’s at least a copy of him like there’s several of the suckers. He was their leader. He’d been aged up though like he was going for the refined older, wiser look, it looked just like him. It felt like him”

“You don’t think…”

“I don’t know, but I definitely want to talk to Roman face to face, our Roman at any rate, and with Simon. He’s got some pretty sensitive gear for detecting the robots.”

“Whatever you say, you’ve got it, Flint. This could get really ugly before it gets better.”

“Seriously ugly, especially if we’re dealing with robots that have been programmed with fanatical tendencies.”

“Hell.”

“I know.”

“It’s like Roberts was the first straw, and then it all started to unravel.”

“It is like that.”

“Maybe it’s supposed to happen like this.”

“I don’t know, maybe.”

They watched the city out the window as the hover cars zoomed by. Flint was glad to be home, but a part of him still wanted the peace he found in the desert.

Hours later, after some decent sleep, and a proper charge for Simon, they made their way down the hall at the city’s central detainment center, and walked up to the glass side of Roman’s cell cube. He sat there, an uneaten TV tray of food in his lap, and an orange jumpsuit on, watching the television.

“So unreal,” he said as they arrived.

Flint coughed, and Simon adjusted his suit.

“Roman, will you talk with us?” asked Flint.

“Sure, what’s to talk about with my favorite guys.”

“Simon and I here have made a discovery.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” He took a sip from his drink.

“We made an acquaintance over the weekend, and we think that it might interest you.”

Simon scanned Roman’s eyes and gave Flint the slightest shake of the head.

“We managed to meet your brother.”

“I have no brother.”

“You know, that’s what I thought, and here’s the thing, It’s in your record right here, that there are no living relatives.”

Roman sniffed.

“I even had them go into the DNA record and see if there was anything even possible as a match for your brother in the known archives.

“Where are you going with this?”

“Robots, Roman.”

“Robots?”

“Robots. Mean ones.” Flint stood back, allowing himself a little pacing room, and continued. “That was why I was so surprised to find your twin, or rather a twin of yours about twenty years older, out in the wastelands.”

“What were you doing there?”

“Clearing my head. That’s not the point. At any rate, here we go. It was a twin of you, with gray hair, and wrinkles, and it was a robot.”

“How could you tell?” asked Roman, his hands slightly shaking.

“Simon here pointed him out. They can scan each other you know, can usually tell make and model that kind of thing at a glance, just like humans can have a pretty good idea where you come from by how you speak, what kind of hand gestures you use, that kind of thing.”

“Sweet, but why am I supposed to believe you, there ain’t been nothing in the wastes for hundreds of years. It’s too toxic. Everybody knows that.”

“Not for the last couple of years. It’s actually quite nice out there.”

“I’ll make sure to organize a little weekend trip then.” he took another sip, still not touching the food.

“Look, what do you want to know?”

“We want to know if there’s anything to do between you and the robots out there.”

“I’ve never even heard it before now. You’re wasting your breath.”

“The only thing that’s wasting around here is you.”

Roman jumped from his bed, upending his food all over the floor.

The men stood staring at each other through the glass, both knowing that to go through it, to attack, would only end in the bruising of their knuckles.

“Let me talk to him,” said Simon. “Guard?”

A guard came forward from the shadows of the room.

“Let me in there with him. He and I need to talk.”

“Simon?”

“Please leave us, Flint, I think this is something that he and I need to do alone.”

Flint left, but not without protest. When he was out of the room, Simon let himself into the cell with no need for help.

“Tell me what you know about robots in the west.”

“I don’t know anything.”

A laser pistol flew into Simon’s hand from the recessed holster in his thigh.

“Tell me what you know about forced slavery in the west.”

“I told you, I don’t know anything.”

“From Simon’s left arm, a series of short dagger-like objects shot out, then they started to spin like a little helicopter blade.

“Tell me about the three-dimensional holograph technology they are developing out there or the hover tanks that can hold twice the amount of armor than ours can.” He made his eyes turn red.

“Look, oh-my-god, I don’t know!”

Simon began to stalk him down. First one step.

“Look, there’s nothing to it, I have nothing to do with it.”

Then another step.

“I swear I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

Then another step. He was right up in Roman’s face, and then he saw it. His eyes returned to normal.

“You don’t know.”

“Know what, honestly, are you going to let me in at all?”

He knocked on the door. “Guard!”

The guard let him out and then closed the cell door back, sealing it.

Simon came out into a small waiting room where Flint was pacing the floor.

“He doesn’t know.”

“Know what?”

“Damn fool doesn’t know. He’s been living his whole life and he doesn’t know.”

Roman had to follow Simon out of the detention hall.

“Doesn’t know he’s a robot. Absolutely incredible.”

They walked outside to a small park some twenty stories into the air, It was planted with trees, most of which were really fake machines designed to produce breathable air from carbon dioxide. There were crisscrossed paths and benches. The park was surrounded by a series of discrete little coffee and pastry shops.

Simon slumped into a bench. Flint sat down after him.

“How can they do that to him?”

“How can who?”

“That’s also a good question, but not what you were thinking I imagine.”

“He’s a robot. He must be three years old or so tops, and he doesn’t know. You’d think he would at least suspect.”

“You’d think. How could you tell?”

“The eyes. His serial number was written in his iris-like all the others, but it’s been scratched and smoothed away.”

“Look, are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. It’s amazing.”

“Look, I’ve been chasing that guy for ten years. He can’t be three.”

“Maybe you were looking at different models. Maybe there is a closet full of them, each representing five years, like a fifteen to twenty-year-old, and a twenty to twenty-five-year-old, things like that, and they’re just letting the appropriate one out as the years go by.”

“I don’t know.”

Simon looked around. “I’ve got to get some fuel, and then let’s go back in there and see what we can find out.”

“Okay.”

Flint looked around them. The courtyard was filled with little dives to get a bite of lunch from, but this was the first time he has ever really thought in terms of accommodating a robot. Sure there was a synthetic choice of food from almost every station.

“What do you like?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never gone to lunch before, dumb as that sounds.”

Flint nodded. It was strange. They walked around the pavilion, looking at all the choices.

Simon wondered. “I’m not really built for human food.”

“There are synthetic foods, and oils of all kinds. Some of it you can actually translate into energy. Come on.”

They stepped up to an old hot dog stand, situated in the middle of the park. Flint leaned in. “You have synthetics?”

“Ah sure,” said the guy. They ordered chili dogs and sat on a bench by the fountain. Flint’s was all beef, and loaded with more junk than you could count. Simon’s looked exactly the same, was made of a silicon by-product and would have killed Flint on the spot, but it did at least smell the same.

Simon chewed. He had not done much of this as a rule, and it was slow going at first.

“You having trouble there?”

“I can jump off a moving vehicle, snag another moving vehicle with my grapple gun, and destroy three other hover cars with the laser pistol in my other hand, and still have time to flip onto a catwalk a hundred feet above the ground, and do so without a glitch, so you’d think I could eat a hot dog without biting the inside of my mouth.”

Flint smiled. “Hey, at least you can eat. I was starting to get worried about you.”

“It’s not the only thing I can do.”

“I know.”

“Seriously Flint, what do you want? Do you want to prove that Robotic partners aren’t any good?”

“The only thing I’m proving now is that it’s next to impossible to eat with one. Relax a little.”

“Relax.”

“Yeah. Learn to meld in a little bit. Learn to fart.”

“Fart?”

“Yeah, you know… You don’t know… Look it up later will you?”

Flint shifted on his bench. “You want to be human?”

“No” said Simon.

“Good. Because the last thing I need around here is another one of those.” He stood up.

“What’s wrong?”

Flint was looking up through the office windows above the park level. “Activity on ninety-five. It doesn’t look good.”

He checked his pockets. “Do you know how to fly a hover bike? Nevermind. Stupid question. Come on.”

Simon tossed the remainder of his hot dog and ran after him. “Do you hear it?”

“Why, can you?”

“Yeah, the alarms are going off in the detention level.”

“I thought so.”

“How could you tell?”

“I just saw three file clerks and an off-duty detective get shot on level ninety-nine.”

“Roman?”

“Most likely.”

They bounded up the marble steps, pushing folks out of their way as they went. Floor ninety-five was dark when they got there, and oddly windy.

“Flint?”

“He’s got the secondary hangers open, but for the wind to reach this far, he must have every door wide open.”

Flint turned the corner, and not only were the doors open, but the walls were too. An explosion rocked the building, jarring the people, the building was way stronger than it should have been, and the rest of the floor blew out, leaving only the main supports, and a few inner walls. Someone came out of the bathroom, zipping up, and walked right back in again.

“There he goes!” called Simon as Roman disappeared over the ledge on a hover bike. Flint and Simon got on their own bikes and sped off after him.

They lurched into the sky, without quite enough speed to really control them. They gunned their engines and recovered just as Roman did.

Roman looked back, aware he was being followed.

He pulled a weapon from his boot and fired. Laser light blazed and burned around them, sizzling the air.

Flint and Simon each pulled their laser pistols and took aim.

Roman ducked under a bridge.

Under the bridge Roman was again in full view.

They trained their weapons on him, and fired, but the distance was too great. The shots faded before they could impact.

They gunned their speeds to catch up, diving over and under bridges, and signs.

“Where is he?” said Flint, really trying to see for himself.”

“To the left two streets, then north again.” said Simon, who had a visor down over his eyes.”

“Where did you get that?”

“Standard-issue,” said the robot.

“Screw you.”

Simon smiled, and pressed a button at his temple. The visor pulled back into a cavity in his forehead and disappeared.

They swerved two streets to the right and then straight to the north. They were right behind him. Of course they were also right behind a dozen or so other cars, which were slowing Roman down, but not for long. He drove over them, and skittered up through the streets.

Flint went low, going under the other air cars, and Simon took the high, going right over them himself. Flint flicked a beacon on his belt. Fifteen miles away, Flint’s hover car lit up, and trundled out of the parking garage, checking itself out, and flying on to find its master.

“He’s getting ready to jump,” said Flint.

“How do you know?”

“I would if it were me.”

Something large loomed above them, It started to get dark, but for a moment Flint thought it was a trick of the light, then he saw it. The craft was enormous, and shaped much like the great fish catcher he’d seen out west. It rumbled through the sky and lurched above them.

Roman pointed a hand to the sky, and released a grapple gun, with which he blasted off his bike and into the sky towards the ship. It opened a panel below for him and he was already crawling in as his hover bike crashed into the side of a building.

Flint and Simon pulled up, heading for the craft, and followed as it began to rise out of the city.

Flint and Simon followed the craft as it lumbered through the dense and twisting towers of city central. It scraped across one tower, destroying a series of glass mirrored windows, and then snaked around another set of buildings, each managing to miss the other by a few simple feet. This was it, the craft was escaping. Soon it would be out of reach to the two investigators. Flint couldn’t agree with that, and gunned his engines.

“Flint!”

Flint wasn’t listening. Which wasn’t really true, he was ignoring Simon’s calls for reasonability and good judgment. Sure they could survive another day to pursue this guy again, but Flint didn’t care. He wanted to see Roman go down. He wanted to take down the whole ship if he could. On his hover bike it was like a single yellow jacket deciding to take down a grizzly bear by itself. He could sting and sting and sting, but all he could really do is upset the balance, and maybe piss them off a little bit.

Flint armed his weapons, and began shooting at the hull of the great lumbering mass. His laser blasts bounced off the surface, causing at most miniscule scoring lines, little pock marks on an otherwise gleaming hull.

Simon caught up to him. The ship had made it to the tops of the tallest buildings and was even then starting to lumber its way towards the west. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going to bring it down.”

“You can’t there’s no way!”

“Watch me.”

Flint pulled his guns, taking a couple more shots at the giant machine, and hitting it underneath.

“Flint, what good’s that going to do?”

“It means I’m within range. I can hit it.”

“With what?”

“With these!”

Flint changed guns, and fired off immense grappling devices that stormed out from a nozzle on the front of the hover bike. Simon watched as they collided with the ship and latched on. He fired his own, but still wasn’t sure what the plan really was here.

Flint and Simon’s hover bikes began to buffet and twist in the wake of the larger machine. They cut their engines way down, Simon fired his retro rockets, and they stabilized themselves. Then Flint started to climb. It was insane, or at least it looked like it was insane to a robot who had only a rudimentary knowledge of what sanity really is.

Flint took hold of the grapple ropes and began to climb, almost as if he were climbing straight up. He bobbed and weaved on the ropes as they whipped around in the air.

Simon began to climb out also. He was just taking the lead of his partner, like he was programmed to do, but this didn’t seem like it was the best of ideas. In fact it seemed downright stupid, but he did it.

They made better time that Simon thought they could, and without much real trouble, they made their way all the way to the hull of the ship, which was now just crossing the edge of the city and out into the wastelands.

Flint and Simon sat on a ledge, overlooking the city as they floated away from it. “Now what?” asked Simon.

“Now, we get in. There’s got to be a way around this place somehow.”

They stood up, with each other’s help as well as that of the help of a special magnet that Flint kept handy for this kind of thing, and started making their way around the ship, looking for the way in. The wind whipped their hair, and stung Flint’s eyes. He wished he’d had his goggles with him, but they were usually in the hover car when he needed them.

Edging around the great bulk of the machine was difficult and dangerous. One step missed and you’d be off the side and plummeting to your death in a matter of seconds. Simon didn’t like these odds, and in order to distract himself from them he decided to start to whistle.

“I didn’t know robots could whistle.”

“Neither did I.”

Eventually they made their way around to a large opening. It looked like an entry bay, or some sort of hanger. All looked quiet for the moment, but that didn’t stop Simon from being nervous. He whistled some more.

They stepped into the hanger bay and crouched behind what looked like a scout vessel of some kind. Two guards were standing near a doorway that was lit with an eerie green light.

The two guards muttered to themselves.

“Hey, you seen that new X-P-38?”

“Nah.”

Flint and Simon rose from their hiding place, pistols drawn.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to be here!”

Flint and Simon raised their pistols, and blew them away.

The uniforms were useful, if not well-fitting, and they soon had them on.

“Simon, can you work the code on this door?”

Simon glanced down. “Looks easy enough.”

He plugged into it from a port on his finger, and within seconds the door opened.

“That was quick. How many codes did you try?”

“Fifty-eight thousand million.”

Flint decided to put that one away for the moment, and they walked through the door.

Inside the ship was a dingy crate. Steel corridors led to more steel corridors. Lights illuminated them from all sides through miniscule ovals that lined the walls. There was an eerie glow about the place, and the floor seemed to be wet.

Simon looked at the floor and squeaked his shoe across it in disgust.

“Fish oil,” said Flint.

Simon twisted his face in disgust. “Fish oil?”

“I think this is the same ship we saw fishing in the Colorado River.”

“Why would they bring this old crate? They had some much nicer vessels, some that were much faster, and better for a rescue.”

“Maybe there’s a shipment of fish they want to dump on the city?”

“There’s a pleasant thought.”

“It’s possible.”

“But unlikely. I think we’re dealing with something much more interesting here.”

“We may never know.”

They trudged up through the corridor and marched silently through a room full of people who were all dressed as they were. Simon looked around, and whispered to Flint. “Looks like they are all robots.”

“That’s comforting. What about them?” He pointed up toward the front of the room. There stood the real Roman, and the older Robot Roman, with his hair graying hair pulled into his eyes. The two of them were holding up their arms to greet everyone. The robotic Roman stood back to allow the real Roman to come forward to the podium.

“Now that one’s real.” whispered Simon.

“My friends, robots, brethren,” he began, “I have brought you here to help me, and you will do it well!”

We are settling down now behind a mountain near the central city. Here we will build a massive staging works to mold thousands of you, my friends!” They all cheered. “Then we will take the city. Once you’re trained up a bit, we’ll sneak into the city in groups of three or four, and then when the moment comes, we’ll strike!” They all cheered again. It was like watching a dictator.

Then Flint realized that Roman was a dictator. Born in the same country, with no political ties, he’s constructed a society to follow him. He’s a virtual dictator of a virtual state, one that hasn’t been finished yet, though they all seem to feel like it’s already taken place.

The real Roman tapped on the podium. “Then there’s another thing,” he said. “Something I’ll bet none of you are aware of, save a couple.” They all looked around them. “Our friends are back.”

They roared with delight. “They are in your midst. Get them, a renegade robot, and his human partner! Call the pilot, let’s take her up. When we find them, we’ll throw them off the ship, sacrifice with style!” they roared again, and then began to rampage around to begin their search.

“Shit!” said Flint.

Simon rolled his eyes. “Is being your partner always going to be like this?”

“More than likely.”

“Why not, I’m getting used to it anyway.”

They ducked through the throng, and rolled beneath their feet. They glided between soldiers, and toppled them down, causing a ruckus.

Flint reached into his pocket in the commotion and pressed a button on his keychain. A hundred miles away, in the heart of the city, the headlamps on his hover car lit up. The hover car zoomed into the night.

Flint kicked one of his captors in the head, and kneed another one in the groin. He bullied his way through countless troops, and knocked them over like bowling pins.

Simon was nowhere to be seen. He was, in fact, acting like one of the standard troops, using it as a disguise. The effect was to put the center of attention of Flint.

The troops began to swarm around him, Simon included, and they grabbed him by his arms and legs and raised him up into the air. Flint twitched and pulled, clawing at them, but nothing did any good. Against their hard plastic uniforms his blows came to nothing.

They hoisted him up and dragged him to the front where Roman stood, laughing. “Very good everyone! Now, where is his partner?”

They all looked around themselves, and could not recognize him for anything. They all looked exactly alike. Then the robotic Roman stepped forward, and pulled off Simon’s mask. “Here he is.”

They pushed Simon into the middle with Flint, and all their weapons were taken from them.

“To the engine room!” said the real Roman.

Simon and Flint were grabbed, and hauled down to the engine room, which was near the middle, right above the grand fish tank. With the pull of a lever, the bottom of the ship fell away, and the tank lowered and moved out of site. The ground beneath the ship looked like it was a long way down.

Flint stared at the distance. “How high are we?”

“Ten thousand feet!” said the real Roman.

“Man,” said Flint.

“Let’s do it!” said the real Roman.

Flint and Simon were grabbed by their hands and feet, and hauled into the air. Hands covered their backs. Their arms and legs were tied with plastic cords. Flint began to allow his mind to drift, trying to ignore them.

The real Roman stepped forward. “We now commit these, the first two sacrifices of many to come. They will die well, and good, and soon the city will be ours!”

“Why do you want it?” yelled Simon. “What good is it to you?”

Flint began to awaken. He could hear a slight beep from the keys in his pocket.

“What good is it?” said the real Roman. “It’s the primary natural resource of our kind!” said the other Roman. “We want the factories!”

The real Roman made a bowing gesture toward the opening, and a smile crept across his face. “Toss them out.” The robots around them all began to dance. Those around holding them began to twist and turn. Then off they went.

They were out of the ship faster than thinking, hurtling towards the Earth at a blinding speed. Flint could hear it in the distance, a tiny faint hum.

A futuristic medical office with glowing health displays. A doctor hands a patient a small pill while a digital screen behind them displays an extended lifespan, symbolizing advancements in longevity.

Longevity, Chapter 2: 2025

Longevity and Other Stories
A life without end,
stars call from the endless night,
time slips through our hands.
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This is a draft version of a chapter from John Saye’s book, Longevity and Other Stories. If you are daring, why not subscribe to my newsletter (they come few and far between), and I’ll send you a PDF copy of the book?

I’m getting married tomorrow. I know it’s hardly the time for a routine checkup, but It’s been on my radar for the last couple of months, and I wanted to get it over with before we went on our honeymoon. Marla and I are going to go on a tour of Mexico. We wanted to go on the rocket that shoots passengers on a five-day cruise around the moon and back, but we couldn’t swing it. We’ll have to try for that on an anniversary or something.

I’ve rarely been sick, but I don’t like the look in my doctor’s eyes. He’s got some kind of news to tell me, but I’m uncertain what it is. The truth is he’s breaking up with his wife, who runs a small bookstore in the mall next door to this office, but it’s still a lot of me me me, and I think that’s all it’s about. I don’t know his wife very well, but she seems nice enough. I hope they work it out and stay together.

My fiance and I are packed and ready to go. I’ve been living in our little one-bedroom apartment for the last three months, but she picked out all the furniture. I wanted to go, but couldn’t get out of the day job long enough. It’s hard enough putting in the regular sixty hours a week. I couldn’t imagine doing like some in the office are and being there seventy, eighty hours a week. I can’t figure out when those guys ever sleep.

He’s kept me waiting for a while now. At this office, they like to pull you back as early as they can, even if you come in without an appointment, but sometimes you can wait in the exam room for half an hour before they come and take your blood pressure. They’ve already done that, so all I’m waiting for is him. He’s not exactly a talker or anything, but I thought he’d have more to say.

There was a knock, and he entered the room.

“Jacob?”

He peeked in.

“Yes, hello,” I said.

“Getting married, are we?”

He came into the room and took his place. It was a short roving stool, and he liked to push around with it. He’d swing over to pick something up, and then swing back to drop it off again, and he always carried a cup of coffee in his hand. Since the day I first met him, he was carrying it.

“Yeah, well…” I said.

“Not to be taken lightly.” He pushed a pen around on a small clipboard.

“I know.”

He flipped through some papers. His office had gone digital about five years ago, but he never got the memo. He still made everyone keep everything on paper for him. He didn’t know it, all the information was on the Internet all the time now, but whenever he had an appointment, his staff would print up all the records for the day to hand to him.

There was a knock at the exam room door.

“Yes?” said the doc.

A short, round face popped in through the door after it cracked open. “Doctor, you have a visit from the drug rep. He’s got a…”

“Tell him I’m with a patient, please.”

“He’s on your desk phone now.”

“Then go wave at him and tell him he’ll have to wait his turn.” He waved my freshly printed file at her and she popped back out.

“I hate that guy, and I hate that video thing.”

“Don’t like them?”

“They’ve been around for years, but I just don’t like them. You have to be able to roll your eyes sometimes when you talk to idiots on the phone, and he counts as one. Call me up on the video… I can’t even get a regular cell phone anymore.”

“I know.”

“Damn thing is less a phone and more a computer with a program on it that answers the phone for you. Ah well. At least we don’t deal with the phone companies anymore.”

“True, they all became Internet service providers, didn’t they?”

He looks over my chart again and grumbles to himself.

“I don’t know why I became a doctor anymore.”

“Why is that?”

“Because there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“What?”

“I know you wanted to hear something. I could tell you that your sugar was off, and we might want to think about pre-diabetes prevention, or you might have high blood pressure as your father did, but that’s just not the case.”

“Hmm.”

“I’ve looked over your chart a hundred times, and what it boils down to is that you are perfectly fine.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not for you. For me, it’s a tragedy, because all my patients have been slowly getting healthier and healthier every year for a while now. I’ve had less and less to do. It’s been so long since any of my patients had an actual disease. I can’t even remember when I last saw one.”

“What about injuries, sprains, that kind of thing?”

“The remedies are too fast.”

I had to think about that one.

“Yeah, the remedies are too fast,” he said again. “Guy comes in with a sprained, hell, let’s say broken ankle, and I got this thing here.”

He opens a plain white drawer behind him, indistinguishable from all the others, and brings out a small black ring, with a pink logo on one side.

“What’s that?” I ask him.

“You put this thing on your ankle, and hit the button, and that’s all it takes. It shrinks to fit the person’s ankle, binds it, and starts injecting it with painkillers and bone enhancers. You wear it around for half an hour. I don’t even let the patient leave, just for my entertainment now really, and then we do an x-ray of it again, and the break is gone.”

“That’s amazing,” I said.

He handed it to me. I fooled around with it for a moment and gave it back to him.

“You can get one of these for about a hundred thousand dollars, minus insurance if you’ve got it. You just have to fill it up with drugs once in a while. If you’re fitting your bill for medical at home, you can buy one for twice that, with a larger supply of drugs to dispense.”

“That seems kind of high.”

“Not really, when you consider that it’ll heal any broken bone in your body in less than an hour, even the tiny bones in your ear. Don’t even ask me what we do for diabetes these days.”

“What?”

“A single pill.”

I couldn’t believe him.

“It’s sick, isn’t it? Pun intended. Here, look at this.”

He hands me a small metal device with a finger-shaped depression on one side.

“Tap your finger to it,” he says.

“What will it do?”

“Blood work. Nothing special.”

I tap my finger there, expecting some kind of a prick, or poke with a hidden needle, but there’s nothing. The surface is smooth, but after pressing the mark, the entire thing lights up. It buzzes and hums, and shows me a small circular logo, with an hourglass on it, slowly turning around, and a small silver progress indicator sliding from left to right. A moment later, it stops and buzzes again.

“It’s done, I think.”

I had the thing back to him.

He drops it on the surface of a small tablet computer, and the larger screen lights up.

“It’s transferring.”

“Transferring what?”

“What would have been about a thousand dollars worth of blood tests? Ah, look…”

He pointed at the tablet’s screen.

“You’re clear. Figures.”

“What figures?”

“Not much to do these days other than do some tests and run you through them, because we’ve caught up. At least, I think we have. Almost boring to be a physician these days, as I said. Unless you’ve severed your hand or been hit by a real truck or something, all we do these days is keep on top of your blood work, and give you the odd shot or pill, and even they are getting fewer and further between.”

He made a check on his tablet with a small stylus he had attached to his lapel on a string.

“Ah, good. I’ll get to give you a shot today, it seems.” He was almost about to say “Lucky me,” when his face dropped, and “Never mind, just a pill then.”

He reached around and opened another drawer and brought out a small yellow pill jar.

“I still keep one of these for old time’s sake.”

He pushed down on the white plastic lid and opened it up. In the bottom was a single, uncoated white pill, with a slash mark on it where you could apply pressure to break it in half. He brought it out, sliding it into the palm of his hand, and carefully broke the capsule in half.

“Here you go. You’ll need some water, I suppose.”

He handed me a glass of water, and I took the pill. I could feel the chalky texture sliding down my throat.

“Now you’ve just ingested the equivalent of all the vaccinations you’ll need for the next hundred years. If I’m lucky, or very unlucky, I might have the privilege of giving you the next one.”

“What do you mean, like a hundred years from now? I won’t be alive then.”

“Sure you will.”

I blinked at him.

“There’s no telling how old you’ll live,” he said. “I don’t know what you’ll do with yourself in all that time. Just don’t go jumping off the roof or something, and you could live indefinitely.”

“What, forever?”

“Yes. Science. It’s kind of a curse now, isn’t it? Enjoy your day.”

I got up and shook his hand.

“Now, I’ll want to see you in a little while. Probably not for twenty years. Set up an appointment at the desk on your way out.”

“Thank you, I think.”

He was off to see someone else, and I made my way out of the office.

I made the appointment, though I didn’t see the point for twenty years in the future. It made little sense.

“Mr. Andersen,” said the young lady at the desk. I didn’t know she was forty years older than she looked, but that seemed to be life these days.

“Yes?”

She made the appointment and then handed me a card with the date and time on it. I had no intention of keeping the card for twenty years, but I slipped it into my pocket and made my way out of the office, anyway. There were a couple of people in the waiting room that looked like they were in their twenties, like me. I wondered if they were going to get the same pill and be sent on their way. A lot can change in twenty years. I imagine the office will be different. Will it even be here?

I crossed the parking lot to my car and opened the door with the press of a button on my key ring, slipped into it. The dashboard lit up, and the engine cranked up with a thunderous roar.

“Hello Jacob,” said the car. “Where are we going today?”

“We need to go straight to the Tuxedo rental next. It’s the big day tomorrow, you know.”

“That’s right. Marla’s at the boutique picking up her dress this afternoon. I’ve got an email from your tailor. The Tuxedo is ready, they just want you to come in to try it on.”

“Sounds like a plan. Take us there.”

I sat back. There was a steering wheel, but I rarely used it anymore. In the center of the dash was a GPS and map software connected to the talking computer. It lit up with the destination, then the car backed itself out and started following the Internet-based instructions. After a moment for the car to get a full signal, I could see a minor blip of a dot on the screen, small and green for my car. A moment or two later, you could see all the other cars that were connected up on the screen as well in real-time. They were all purple, and the occasional red dot was someone piloting on a manual. The auto-controlled cars all knew to steer clear of them.

I sat back and read an online newspaper, complete with video clips and animated daily comic strips embedded, while the car made all the correct turns, got me onto the freeway, merged automatically with traffic, and then pulled me into the closest, safest parking space near the tailor’s shop.

I stepped out of the car, which said goodbye to me, before locking itself up.

I’d say it was a relief to walk into the tailor’s shop, a place pleasantly devoid of computers beyond a small calculator, but I was so used to it that I forgot to notice. If anything, I wondered what was wrong with the shop without really being able to put my finger on it.

“Jacob Andersen?” said the tailor.

“Yeah?”

“Come on back, I think I’ve got you all setup.”

The wall at the back of the shop was one big monitor, and on it was a picture of me next to a three-dimensional scan of my body. The screen was surrounded on both sides by bolts of cloth and finished suits and slacks. The tailor hung a yellow measuring tape around his neck, and there were loose sticks of chalk everywhere, but one of them looked like it had a little USB plug in the side of it.

He guided me to a small platform in the middle of the room and brought out my suit, which came with a printed packet that included all of my body measurements and a representation of my body.

The packet was three hundred pages long.

I tossed it aside where it landed on a nearby, and very dusty couch.

He brought out the suit, and I tried it on. They crafted it to perfection and it hugged every inch of my body. It felt like the most comfortable garment I’d ever worn. Tight in all the right places, and also loose in all of them as well. I almost relaxed into it rather than the traditional ‘trying it on.’ The slacks went on without a hitch, and the shirt, suspenders, and bow tie were all dashing yet comfortable. Everything was the correct length and exactly perfect for my body.

I wanted to hate it, but I couldn’t. It was just that nice.

I tried on the coat and swore that I’d wear nothing else until I wore it completely out.

“You’re getting married, right?” he said.

“Yes.”

“It’s nice, the suit?”

It was perfect.

He laughed. “That’s what they all say these days, but do you like it?”

“Yes, I do.” I pulled at the collar and shifted my shoulders. It felt wonderful.

“Good. That’s nice. Yes.”

He seemed distracted.

“You’re young, right?” he said.

“Yes. Twenty-five.”

“That’s nice.” He scratched his back. “It’s getting harder and harder to tell these days. How old anyone is, I mean? It’s like everybody is fifty-six, but they all look like they are between thirty-eight and forty-five. No one looks like they should anymore.”

“I know what you mean.”At least I thought I might.

“It’s sick, what they are doing, down at those hospitals, keeping everyone alive all the time.”

“It’s not natural, I say.”

The tailor coughed. I helped him to his dusty couch and stayed with him for a minute.

“Can I call anyone? Do you need any help?”

He waved me off like it was nothing.

“No. I need nothing. I’m happy.”

“Happy?”

“I’m old, and I’m broke, and I’m tired and sick, and I’m happy.” He coughed again, and this time, spit up a little something that he caught in a handkerchief and shoved in his pocket before I could get a good look at it.

“Seriously, can I…”

“No!”

He pushed himself off the couch and straightened his tie.

“Really,” he said. “I don’t need a thing. Now, get outta here and go have yourself a wedding!”

He smiled and showed me the door. I grabbed my packet on my way.

“Wait, I need to pay you.”

“It’s already done. There isn’t even any fun in getting money from someone anymore. Your bank paid me the minute you took possession of the suit. You should know that.”

“There has to be something I can do.”

“There is. Grow old. Don’t take their stuff. It may keep you alive, but you’ll rot from the inside out before it’s over. Don’t let your wife take any of it either. Be natural. Don’t live too long.”

He pushed me from his shop, with a little smile and a wave, and I was in my car. I did all the driving and headed back out to my apartment before I thought about it. I was already doing all that stuff. My doctor had just set me up. Everyone I knew was doing it. We were all about to live forever. At least, that’s what the brochures all said. It was just the way it was now.

I have always wondered how they ever tested it on anybody. How can they say it increases your life this long? It hasn’t even been out that long.

Marla was waiting for me. She looked younger than I was, but the truth was she was about five years my senior. Until now, it never really bothered me. I wanted to talk to her about it, to ask if we should keep on, but I already knew the answer. Besides, my next regular checkup wasn’t for another twenty years. No going back now. May as well make the most of it. By the next time I go, I imagine they’ll have something, a pill or whatever, that I won’t have to come back again for a thousand years. Who knows?