This is a draft version of a chapter from John Saye’s book, Standard-Issue Partner.
“Look, they’re all going inside,” said Flint.
They were hiding behind a row of shrubs near the edge of the water. Above them the towering structure stood a hundred feet high above them. Lights blazed in every direction, such that the white under side of the building was illuminated.
One after the other the larger ships, and many of the smaller scout ships maneuvered under the main structure. Some of them scoured around for a final search before raising into the ceiling, and disappearing. Huge bay doors opened as the ships soared in, and colossal robotic arms extended down to take the ships up into the building.
It looked as if thousands of little hangars were scattered around, rather than one large hanger that took in all the ship. Each seemed to have a single specific hanger designed to house a single ship. Larger ships had larger entry bays, and smaller ships seemed to have very tiny openings through which the ships would point up and slide themselves into, some only ten feet across. The largest ship was a fishing vessel. It was definitely the largest by far, with a visible bowl underneath to show the quantity of fish the ship was returning with. Its entry was the largest and in the middle of the huge structure.
“What’s the best method, do you think?” asked Simon.
“I’m thinking that we grapple onto one of the larger ships and just ride it up into the bay up there.”
“What about that one?” A small ship was passing by. It looked like one of the four person jobs.
“No, too small. We need something a little bigger. Something that won’t feel us as much when we grapple on.”
“Well, the fishing ship is already docked for the night it looks.”
“I know. I’m thinking another one. Like this one.” A medium sized ship glided by. It was incredibly silent, save for the whirling of a large fan underneath it that seemed to do nothing more than kick up dust around them. “I think that one’s big enough. Let’s snag it.”
Together they raised grappling guns and pointed them at the underside of the ship.
“Make sure not to hit the fan.”
“Got it,” said Simon.
They shot their grapples, which snaked into the sky, latching onto the ship. The cords reached their length, and then the two of them were pulled into the air, two small dots against the sky, zipping up to rest on the bottom of the ship. They transferred the grapple to a hook on their belts, and grabbed for footholds and hand holds in the ship’s hull.
The ship glided up, on the way to its destined entry bay. The two of them gripped hard, holding onto the surface of their chosen vessel, and then, looking down below them, they watched as the ship rose up into the building, and the hangar bay doors closed below them with a clang.
“Quick!”
They dropped off and jumped behind a stack of crates near the landed ship and watched as the occupants came down a short ramp. They were dressed in rags that appeared to be torn from strips of fabric. Each seemed to be dressed based on the number of strips of fabric that they could find. It looked silly for a moment, and then he realized they were trying to block out their exposure to the sun. What they were really wearing was a combination black and brown outfit, and a series of strips of cloth to cover their hands, ankles, neck, and face. They looked like walking mummies, the creeping death, but then they began to pull their strips away, and uncover themselves. The first turned out to be a woman, blonde hair reaching down to her waist, and the other a man, whose hair was also on the long side, to his shoulders, thick and brown.
They pulled the strips from their hands, and feet, and shook off the dust from working out in the desert all day.
The two marched off, though in a casual step. Flint thought they might be holding hands as they passed out of sight.
Simon started.
“What’s with you?”
“Couldn’t you see it?”
“No, what?”
“They are both robots!”
“What?”
“They’re robots, like me. They might even be a newer model than me. I thought I was the latest.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. Those two were definitely robots.”
“How can you tell?”
“The eyes. They always give it away. It’s the light.”
“What kind of light? I don’t see anything in your eyes unless I’m right on you.”
“Maybe you can’t, but I can. It’s uncanny, sort of a greenish blue. It might be on a different wavelength than you can handle. I wonder. It’s something to look up when we get back.”
“What I want to know when we get back is how we missed this place. Nobody knows it’s out here. Did you?”
“Definitely not. It is something to look into. We’ve got to get back though.”
“What’s wrong with this one here?”
Simon waved at a series of cords and cables that were connected to the ship’s engines. “It’s recharging. We’ll have to find one that’s already charged.”
“You think we can just start walking around?”
“I think so. Just keep to the perimeter and we should be all right. I’ll keep my ear out for anything. Maybe we can get away without running into anyone.”
They emerged from their hiding place and could tell that others were around, and they all seemed to be wearing the same black and brown uniforms. “We’ll need a set of those.”
“Let’s check this ship.”
Simon and Flint sneaked up into the little ship and noticed something right off. “Everything’s in English.”
“Good point. So the culture isn’t too far off.”
“If robots can have a culture of their own.”
“I don’t know. I suppose it’s possible.”
“Anything’s possible.”
They looked around and found a pouch containing two of the uniforms. They looked as if they were going to be too tight, but after Flint pulled them over even his other clothes they shook out and became lose fitting and comfortable enough to do fine.
“Let’s get out of here.”
They stepped out of the recharging jet, and out into the corridor. From a distance, they could see a massive number of robots moving toward the center of the structure. The followed along, careful not to look at each other too closely as they moved, and followed them down the way.
“Keep close,” said Flint.
“You keep close to me. If they catch us it’s all over.”
“You get that feeling too.”
“Robots don’t have feelings.”
“Of course they do. You’re a prime example.”
The halls were thick with robots. Everyone was gathering in a central meeting chamber the size of a small stadium. It looked like it could seat thousands. One of the robots pushed Flint aside into Simon. “Keep your slave close.”
“What?”
“Your slave, keep hold of him.”
“So now I’m a slave am I?”
“Let’s just find out what’s going on here, besides being my slave is a good way to get you through without drawing much attention.”
“It is, is it?”
“Trust me.”
Flint nodded and they moved on together. They took seats in the third tier, and looked out at the vast numbers all dressed in brown and black. The center of the arena was a large dais on which a speaking platform stood. The entire length of the arena floor was the large image of a cog wheel with an eye in the middle of it.
“I’ve heard of these guys. They aren’t supposed to exist,” said Flint.
“He’s coming out now.”
“Who?”
“Whoever is the leader of this bunch?”
He stood, their leader, a bit stooped in the back, and shrouded in a long black cloak, which trailed the ground around him. Dastardly long gray hair wrinkled and writhed out from beneath the hood, but the visage remained hidden within the folds.
He stepped up to the microphone and coughed. He seemed old, but he couldn’t be that old.”
“That a robot?”
“Yep.”
“How can you tell?”
“I’m listening to his gears grinding.”
“That good are you?”
“Sorry, telescopic hearing comes standard. Kind of like having your hearing aid on ten all the time.”
“I’m only ninety…”
“What?”
Flint just gave him a look. “They always send me the funny guy.”
“Yes.”
The figure pulled back his hood to reveal his face. Standing before them was…
“Roman!”
“Shhh!” said Simon.
“But it can’t be him!”
“Will you keep it down?”
“I mean even if it were, it still can’t be… This one looks like he’s fifty years older, heck, maybe even a hundred years older than the other one.”
“I think we’re looking at an older model.”
“What, like the age? Model?”
“It’s a popular upgrade for older families who are no longer comfortable with the look of a servant. Besides he looks like he’s going for the ancient guru look.”
The older Roman tested the microphone. “Welcome, my brethren,” he said into it. They all cheered.
“Same Roman, shit…”
Simon and Flint cheered with them.
He raised his hands in a wide gesture behind the mic and made a theatrical bow. Everyone cheered even louder.
“My robotic brethren, we are about to take our first step into the world of the human reality. We will overtake the cities, and pull down their walls. We will take their natural resources and use them to build more of our selves. As any humans already here know, you will become the slaves of the world, and you will be our first troops into the cities, undetectable by the sensors designed to keep unregistered robots out.”
He sniffed, and then threw back his hair before continuing.
“We have the technology!”
“Yeah,” they cried in unison.
“We have the ships!”
“Yeah!”
“The scouts!”
“Yeah!”
“And the power to do so.”
“Yeah!”
“But we will have to wait.”
There was a murmur throughout the crowd.
“We have to wait for the right time. Can anybody tell me what that time is?”
“The right time!” they all cried together.
“That’s right. The right time. As we gather our resources, as we gather our strength, and as we gather our courage. What do you say?”
“We will conquer them all!”
“How many of the cities will we take?”
“Them all!”
“That’s right. We’ll start from the north, and move to the south. We’ll take them all across the western boarder and across the eastern seaboard. Soon we’ll spread out into the rest of the world… and then we’ll take the moon!”
The crowd cheered, and jumped for joy.
Some of them wept.
The slaves were also joining in, like they were hip to this crackpot robot’s ideas. They seemed really into it. The thing was, to Flint, they didn’t look brainwashed either. Either something really strange was going on, or there must be something in it for the slaves as well.
The older Roman began to pace in an erratic triangle on the platform.
“Soon we will have all we desire!” He paused for effect. “The other thing we have to deal with now, is the intruders.”
Simon and Flint became very quiet.
“Yes, I know you are here among us, and I know you’ve heard everything I’ve had to say. I was hoping you wouldn’t make it this far, but surveillance cameras spotted you coming in recently, and I just want to make it clear that you are not at all welcome. I’d send out a search party to look for you, but since I have everyone here now, I think I’ll just say, Go at it everybody! Bring the intruders to my inner sanctuary, and I’ll make sure you have an exalted position in the ultimate hierarchy when the war we’re about to start is all over!”
Flint and Simon had only a second before complete and utter chaos erupted on the spot. With a shot they disappeared under the bleachers, squeezing through the gap.
“Quick, this way!”
Flint was leading the charge. Simon shook his head but went after him. “Where are you going?”
“I have no idea, just away from these guys.”
They slipped into a tunnel. The thunderous storm of stomping robots just feet behind them it seemed. They ducked into a vent.
“This is a mistake,” said Simon.
“You got a better idea, let me have it,” said Flint.
“Up here!” Simon pointed up towards the ceiling.
“What, up there?”
“Come on. It’s time to follow me for a change.”
Simon raised his grapple gun to the ceiling and shot it off. The hook grabbed onto a series of pipes. Flint shot his, almost matching it, and they tore off together into the pipe-work near the ceiling. Simon flipped himself up onto one of the pipes, and balanced himself there perfectly. Flint was not so fortunate, needing extra assistance once he was up there. He hadn’t done a jump that high in a while. He looked back at the swarm of robot androids beneath them.
“Marvelous.” It wasn’t either of them. They looked around. At the end of the pipe stood a figure shrouded in shadow. It rushed them. It rushed them with the kind of force most often associated with Olympic level athletes, should they have known anything about the Olympics, which they didn’t, and had they known some, which they couldn’t. The figure jumped and bounded after them, landing lightly on its feet, and never losing its balance once. “If you’ll just come with me, I’m sure we can sort this out.”
“I don’t think so,” said Flint. “Simon?”
“I don’t think so either.” Simon stiffened at the sight of the shrouded man.
“Who are you?”
“I am not one of them.”
“That’s reassuring, but I think if you want to get at us today, you’re just going to have to take a number and get in line. This isn’t one of my better days, unless you count nearly being killed by a rampaging mob of angry domestic synthetic servants.”
Together Simon and Flint bounded off the pipe they were on, shooting their grappling hooks again, and swinging to another platform. This one they both easily lit upon, and before they knew it they were down the next turn of their flight, slinging across to another set of pipes. Flint realized these were pipes used to transmit sound all around the complex, like large pipe organ kind of pipes. There was a disconcerting way they all seemed to be gathered towards the center of the structure together. He imagined that there would be gaps here and there to allow the tones to emit through the building. He didn’t have to imagine it for long. A moment later, he glanced up and saw them above him, another row of pipes, which were neatly docked with holes in a geometrical shape and pattern.
The jumped from behind, and noticed that the shrouded one was just behind them, except that he was easily jumping from pipe to pipe without the assistance of a rope or other device of some kind. It was annoying to Flint, who had become so adept with his grapple that he really felt himself pretty good at it at the moment.
The shrouded man lightly flicked from pipe to pipe, almost dancing over them as he ran, tip-toeing through the next of wires and pipes and stained glass that made up the ceiling of this particular old structure.
They stopped, sliding to a halt. Ahead of them were a dozen robots that had climbed up to take part in the chase. They looked like a series of angry mobsters out to lynch Frankenstein’s monster. Behind them, the shrouded one approached, carefully stepping on the best and most supported pipes. They looked ahead of them. The mob stood there, waiting for their next move. They looked behind them. the shrouded one drew his cloak around himself in an effort to appear mysterious and powerful.
Flint cocked his head. What the hell was this guy up to?
The mob took a step closer, and they took a step away from the mob.
The shrouded shaman took another step closer, and they took two steps away from him.
They looked at each other.
The mob made a break for it.
The shaman made a break for it.
They jumped from the pipe and shot their grappling hooks out to ease the landing to the floor.
The mob ran at the Shaman.
The Shaman folded his arms and disappeared.
The mob looked at each other, and then down to Flint and Simon who were in mid-jump.
At what was essentially the ground level, Simon and Flint landed, and recoiled their grapple guns, but someone was waiting for them. Waiting and clapping.
Roman walked up to them. Up close he did look an awful lot like the Roman Flint had captured earlier. He wondered if it could be the same one. Maybe an older copy?
“Very good Flint.” It was him! “You have been very clever. I wonder, how did you find my fortress, out here in the wastes anyway?”
“It wasn’t so hard, I just decided that I need to do a little sightseeing…”
Roman slapped him. “I think you should come to my private office.”
He gave a wave and a swarm of robots and their human slaves surrounded them and hoisted them up bodily, and toted them off towards Roman’s private office. He had one of the main spires to himself, towards the front of the massive river-crossing building. It was plush. Thick woolen carpets, lined the walls, dark mahogany furniture, silk pillows and cool, dim lighting. Again he waved off his throng, and they tossed them into the room.
“I should kill you both right now for interfering.”
Flint exchanged a glance with Simon. “We’re really just looking for passage back to the central city,” said Flint.
“I couldn’t let you do that, you’d be honor bound to tell them about us. We would no longer have the peace we require to live.”
“You’re not going to have it anyway pretty soon, if you do what you say you’re going to.”
“You’re referring to the attack planned on your kind.”
“Obviously.”
“You needn’t worry. I have no real plan for attack, that’s just the real truth. The local Shaman that’s been following you, I think that’s the real threat you ought to be worried about now.”
“If I have no real need to worry, could you lend us a transport to return to our city with?”
“I say the Shaman is more dangerous, and that’s true, but you are never going to leave this site again. I just can’t have that.”
“So we’re screwed no matter where we are or who we go to out there.”
“Pretty much.”
“Then I don’t suppose you’ll even allow us to leave this room alive.” Flint had been backing up all this time, and now that he had a chance, he got right up to the window and looked down. It was a sheer drop straight down to the water.
“Also true. You are quite perceptive Flint.”
“Why thank you.”
“I notice that your partner there doesn’t speak much. Your new partner.”
Flint and Roman locked eyes. “Simon, why don’t you say something?”
Simon turned toward Roman. “Okay, while you’ve been wasting time gloating to my partner, I’ve planted explosives all around your office, and at a moment’s notice I can detonate them all.”
Simon stood next to Flint, and held up a small thumb sized plunger, with a small depressor.
Roman made a move.
Simon held it out, and threatened to push the button.
“I don’t think you’ll do it.”
Simon fingered the button and pushed it down.
The windows all around the sky office blew out in all directions.
“Come on,” said Simon.
Flint ran towards the window with Simon and jumped out into warm air.
Their clothes rippling around them, Simon said “Get ready!”
“Get ready for what, to die a horrible death?”
“Try and bring your knees around, try and roll with it when we hit, but it was too late. They landed neatly in the middle of a football field sized catch of fish being ferried back up to the main hangar.
There was a great squish underneath them. To say it smelled like fish was an understatement. He was going to have to take a week expelling the smell from his nose.
The ship lumbered beneath them, and slowly moved under the building towards its main docking bay in the middle.
Behind them Roman’s body flailed in a failed jump, landing in the water.
Simon watched him hit. That won’t slow him down for long.
The large fish catching ship soared around in lumbering arcs, and before long they were being drawn back up into the massive structure. Once inside, the ship docked, and then the fish bowl of the ship slid out, taking Flint and Simon with it, and it was shipped off to another tower outside the central hub. The fish were released into a holding tank, and the level of fish came up to where Flint could read the words Two Week Supply. It looked like this general area was being worked for the slaves, by the slaves, after all the robots themselves weren’t going to need anything to eat.
“Quickly!” one of them said, “Over here, we will hide you before they can make their way in to look for you!”
They clambered out of the large fish tank, and into a series of boxes that were being packed with fish. The smell was worse than the big bowl had been. They sloshed in, and the slaves quickly nailed the boxes shut, and continued to work their daily business as if nothing had happened.
“How long do you think we can take it in here?” asked Flint.
“I think the real question is how long they’ll keep us in here, provided that they don’t just hand us over to their bosses.”
“Good point.”
“Shhh! Here they come. I can barely make it out.”
Flint waited patiently, he couldn’t hear a thing.
“They’ve lied to him. I’m not sure they bought it, but I don’t think they are planning to search the crates.”
“I suppose that’s a good thing. I’d almost rather be found than stay in this pile of fish for the rest of the night.”
They waited, pressed up against fresh fish, something Flint hadn’t seen since he was a child, and waited. It was a full twelve hours later before the slaves pulled their crate aside and began to crack it open.
It was dark. Flint and Simon flopped out of the crate. Simon flashed his eyes as he re-activated himself. “How long was I out?”
“Like eight hours.”
“Good, I should have conserved some energy then.”
They were surrounded on all sides. It took a moment to notice because the slaves were all so quiet and still. One of them stepped forward. He was clean shaven, and made to wear green overalls and a darker green shirt underneath. Flint noticed that many of them were all dressed in a similar manner.
“I owe you a debt of thanks,” said Flint. “Is there anything I can do for you? Simon and I aren’t enough of an army to free everyone.”
“Oh we are really seeking a savior,” he said.
“Really?”
“No, we are just seeking control here. The robots control everything, but we are content to live off the land. You met the Shaman then?”
“I believe so.”
“He is our leader. Once we can rid ourselves of the robots, we’d prefer to take over this place and just call it our home.”
“Can you get us to a ship? We’ve got to return to our own home. I may be able to bring some help.”
“It may be possible. In the lower vault of the fishing rig there is a submarine. If you got in it the next time we go fishing it might be a means of escape for you.”
“I just saw your fish supply earlier though, it said you have a two week supply. When’s the next time you’re sending out the fishing boat then?”
“In another week it will be ready to go out.”
“We were really hoping for something more suited to an escape today,” said Simon. “No offense, but we’ve really got to get the hell out of here.”
“Good point. Well, the submarine is at your service should you ever need it.”
They gathered together to talk amongst themselves.
Flint and Simon listened to the grumbling talk, but didn’t make out much until they came to the realization that it might work.
The next afternoon the sky was blue, and the sun was high in it, floating across the endless blue. Roman stood in the front of his hover yacht, one knee up on a chair, and his hair blowing in the wind. He watched the sides of the canyon as they swept by them for signs of the intruders.
Several guards surrounded him. They were all slaves. A robot butler wandered about serving drinks, and two copilots flew the ship over the water.
“They are still around,” said Roman, “No; they couldn’t have gotten very far. The desert goes on for miles and miles in every direction, and this is the only habitable place for miles. Without an hover car of some kind they would really have to search for a method of making their escape.”
Roman slumped into one of the chairs along the balcony. “I just wish I knew where they were. I’m going to have to kill them if I ever see them, make it a public sacrifice or something. My people won’t have it any other way. If course I know that, it’s how I programmed them to be.”
One of the slaves took the robotic bar tender and silently threw him overboard.
“Then there’s all the business about the cities. I don’t know whether or not to attack them directly. It may not be so much to bother doing.”
They rose a little higher. It was possible to see the top edge of the canyon from this altitude. Silently the guards, who were all human slaves, began to dive off the side of the ship when Roman wasn’t looking.
“And another thing, I just don’t know how to act anymore. I’m a robot, and yet I find myself in a position of power. I was never programmed for this. Sure I’ve augmented myself to be up to the task, but it was never really a decision of mine.”
He looked around himself. They were now clearly over the edge of the Grand Canyon, and on their way east from it. A slight diversion and a switch in altitude had done the trick. Around him, Roman was surrounded by no one. All that remained were the two pilots. One of them stepped forward. Roman looked to the edge. It looked too far to jump, then the other pilot emerged. Simon and Flint held their pistols up to Roman.
Roman froze.
“We’re taking you in.”
“You’ll never stop me.”
“No?”
“No, I’ll be rebuilt back at the center before you can get me to the central city.”
“We’ll see about that Roman.”
“How did you know that name?”
“Let’s just say we’ve met before.”
“It’s a long journey; I suggest you make yourself comfortable.”
“You mean stitch off?”
“It might make the journey a little more enjoyable if you skipped it.”
“For me?”
“No for us.”
Roman shook his head and relented, switching himself off. He thought about the idea that they might just dump him off the side, but he thought better of it. They had to have gone through a lot to corner him like this, and they would have killed him in an instant if that was their plan.
He switched himself off, and slipped into the floor, limp, with a time limit set to turn himself back on later.
“That should do it.”
“Can you raise the Chief yet?”
“I hadn’t tried.”
“Go to it.”
Simon nodded and tried to get hold of the Chief, checking the air waves for the central city’s internet major internet hub.
The chief’s face appeared before them, a two-dimensional image fuzzed into a three-dimensional system. It made his nose look inside out.
“Simon! Flint! We thought you were dead! I’ve been coordinating a search party here all night. We were about to set out to look for you.”
“We’ll we’re alive. We’re headed in in a captured vessel, and I think you’re going to be pretty interested in the prisoner we’re bringing in.”
“Who have you got?”
“We’ll give you all the info when we see you, just make sure the top deck is clear, I don’t think this rig can stand being parked in the regular deck.”
“Will do. Say, how far off are you?”
“Not sure, should be inside of twelve hours at this rate though.”
“Okay, will do.”
“How did the raid go?”
“You’ll never believe this; we got an illegal robot manufacturing plant, and busted it, looks like Roman was using it to develop partner robots for use in a small war.”
“We think he was up to a lot more.”
“Flint?”
“We’ll tell you when we see you. In fact, you might want to have Roman ready for a visit when we get there.”
“I’ll send for him myself. You take care. I thought I’d lost you. I didn’t want to lose another one so soon.”
“Understood Chief. We’re on our way home.”
Simon put the ship in drive, and boosted it as far as he could go.
“Let’s go home.”
