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Standard-Issue Partner, Chapter 8

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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.

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.

Standard-Issue Partner, Chapter 7

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.

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…

Standard-Issue Partner, Chapter 6

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.

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.

Standard-Issue Partner, Chapter 5

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.

“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.”

Standard-Issue Partner, Chapter 4

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.

Early the next morning Flint got up and dressed. He checked Simon’s charger and made sure it still had twenty percent to go. He put on his jacket and got his things together. He pulled on his backpack, which he had supplied with food, flashlights, and a change of clothes, as well as a few other sundries, and made his way out to the hovercar deck, and unlatched it. The sun was not yet up, and the morning rain was sticking to the buildings in a way that was frankly unpleasant.

He opened the car, tossed in his supplies, and cranked it up. The navigation computer revved up and told him his location, and before long there was a signal coming in from the base.

The screen buzzed to life, and the Chief stood there, with eyes that looked a little worse for wear. “What are you doing on patrol at this hour Flint? Where’s your robot?”

“No robots today Chief. I’m taking a sick day from the force.”

“Nonsense, you haven’t taken a sick day in thirty years.”

“Precisely.”

“Precisely?”

“Yes. I think I’m due a day off, don’t you?”

“Yes, but Flint, the next bust, you’re on tap, and we need you.”

“You can do this one without me today.”

“But Flint…”

“I need a day Chief. Deal with it, I need to get out of the city.”

“There’s going to be hell-to-pay.”

“Then pay it. I’ve got things to do today.”

“Flint!”

Flint snapped the monitor off. He’d pay for that one later he supposed, but he wasn’t going to allow for this. He had to get out of the city, and this was the time. He flew until the rain diminished, and things started to get a little clearer. He could see the edges of the city beyond. He nose-dived down, and hugged the surface streets, a place rarely used these days and increased his speed. The buildings flew by, shooting past him like they were nothing more than streaks in a grand tunnel of some kind.

The buildings began to seem smaller, only a hundred stories each, and soon he was down to the small stuff, fifty stories or less. He had only managed to make a bust out this far a couple of times. He couldn’t believe how much of the sky he could see from here, and actual stars. The city lights behind were blinding. He had always heard that the lights of the city would drown out the lights of the stars, but he never believed just how many there actually were.

Then he saw it, ahead of him in the distance.

It was the first one he had ever seen, a tree.

It was magnificent. It stood fifty feet tall, a great magnolia tree, not that Flint knew what it was called, nor did he think of any resources he could look one up in. He stopped the hovercar, and maneuvered it around the tree, moving slowly, and taking in everything that he could. He’d never really had a chance to mourn Roberts. He had just gone on and started in with Simon, not really taking the time to go and recognize anything, to experience anything, or to give himself a chance at regrouping and reorganizing his thoughts. He thought he would go further west and see what was out there. Outside the cities, there were several of them across the country these days, it was supposed to be desert and wastelands, but this didn’t much look like a wasteland to him.

He revved up the hovercar and zoomed out to the west, four hundred miles an hour at the outside, but occasionally slowing down to take in a landmark or some bit of scenery. The hills were beautiful. The old cracked roads and highways, no longer used by anybody extended into nowhere, covered by a layer of vegetation that was unheard of in the cities.

Not that this was a real mystery, all this nature, but it just seemed like folks had forgotten, sitting in their towers and playing their games. He hung low in the sky. The sun was just coming up behind him. He’d never seen the whole sun before, usually just seeing a glimpse of it through a cloud or some other piece of building or the spire of a skyscraper, which seemed like the only kind of building to have these days. There was a bright light above the sun as it rose. Bright pin-point of light shined in the distance. It stayed with the sun, right ahead of it as it ascended into the sky. Was it a star?

“Computer?”

“Yes?” said a clipped computer voice.

“What’s that light behind us, over the sun?”

“That is the planet Saturn.”

“Saturn.”

“Is there anything else you would like? You’ve got three messages from the Chief.”

“What do they say?”

“‘Return or you’re fired, Return or we’ll arrest you,’ and ‘Come on man!'”

“Figures. Patch me through to him.”

The Chief’s face fizzled up on the screen. “Well?”

“It’s just a day.”

“I know.”

“Are you going to arrest me?”

“No.”

“Are you going to send Simon after me?”

“Yes, as soon as his charge comes up.”

“Don’t.”

“No real choice pal. We’ve got to make sure you return.”

“I’m not going to run. Haven’t you ever taken a day off?”

“No, and I don’t see the point.”

“You should. I think it would do some good.”

“Where are you?”

“And spoil all of Simon’s fun finding me? I don’t think so.”

“We’ve got your beacon on the radar. We know where you are anyway.”

“I suppose I’ll have to do something about that.”

“Flint…”

“Did you know the star that comes up ahead of the sun is really the planet Saturn?”

“Is it?”

“It is.”

“Flint, why do you care?”

“Because I’m ninety-five, and I’ve never seen anything. All I know is busts, and raids, and carnage.”

“Simon, what else is there? Do you want a career as a journalist?”

“No. I just need to see some things for myself, that’s all. I saw my first tree today.”

“Did you?”

“And I’m going to see the Grand Canyon also.”

“The what?”

“It’s a big hole in the ground.”

“Great. My best special ops cop needs to go and see a hole in the ground.”

“Send the robot if you must, but I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“You know I can’t make you come back.”

“Call it earned vacation.”

“Like we ever really have any of that anymore.”

“Yep. So, you’ll send the Robot?”

“Yep. It’s just for backup. you never know what you can find out there in the wastes.”

“Understood.”

“I’ll check in with you later?”

“Not today.”

The Chief nodded and signed off, twisting a knob at the bottom of his display. Flint flicked off his as well, and then flicked another toggle that started to brew a cup of coffee for him as he flew west. On the horizon, a mesa was coming up on his right. The beginning of the painted desert began to open itself to him in the morning light. Flint simply couldn’t put the colors together in his mind. It may have been the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life. He circled it taking in the ancient cities built into the side of one of the great mesas.

“Ancient man, there you have it, early high-rises.”

He took off towards the west, and he thought that the mesa or one of its cousins might have been the most beautiful natural formation he had ever seen, until he got to the Grand Canyon, where he had to land the hovercar near an old abandoned tourist trap, and flop to the ground, and take it all in.

Back in the apartment, a soft beep came from Simon’s charger, and a small light went from green to blue. The panel slid away and Simon stepped out.

He looked around. “Flint?”

He walked into each of the rooms of the apartment, searching. Lights were dimmed, and there was nothing going on, and nobody about. “Flint?”

He flipped on the bathroom lights, half expecting to see him in there or a note on the mirror, something else he had been trained to look for in cops who were adjusting to having a robot for a partner. He wondered for a moment if expecting a suicide note so early was really such a healthy thing to be looking for. Was having a robotic partner that upsetting? Could the shock really be too much for someone? Certainly, robots were around every day. Certainly, they were around so much that people didn’t much care what kind of a partner they had.

The living room monitor came on, a call from the Chief. Simon flicked it on. “Simon?” said the Chief.

“Yes, sir. Is Flint all right?”

“Yes, He’s fine. He’s just switched off his homing beacon, but he’s somewhere in the midwest. I’ll need you to track him down and bring him in, but let him have his say first. Be prepared, he is expecting you to try.”

“What’s wrong?”

“He’s just taking a day off. I just want you to keep an eye on him and make sure he returns to us. Understand?”

“Absolutely. How do I get out there?”

“Flint’s got a pair of hoverbikes. It’s a lot like strapping yourself to a rocket and hitting the go switch. You are already programmed for it, so don’t worry about it. You’ll know how to drive it as soon as you see it.”

“Where was he going?”

“Last time we had him he was in an area of old Nevada near the Grand Canyon, whatever that is.”

Databanks in Simon’s head began to access the main database in the city center and looked up hundred-year-old maps of Nevada. It soon located the Grand Canyon. “That’s pretty far off. What condition is his hovercar in?”

“Should be fine, those things have a half-life of at least fifty years.”

“Okay, I’ll be off in just a moment.”

“Go armed.”

“For Flint?”

“No, but you never know. There are stories of folks hanging out in the wastes outside the cities.”

“I never go without it.”

Simon smiled, and the Chief and he seemed to understand one another.

“Simon, just bring him back to us.”

“Will do.”

He went upstairs, to the garage, and found the hoverbikes. They did indeed look like large rocket engines. He strapped himself in and blew out into the day on a streak of rocket fuel.

He pulled the bike toward the west and poured on the speed. An hour later the city was behind him, and he began to move out into the suburbs. Ahead of him, he saw the great magnolia tree as the first sign of botanical life. He stopped the hoverbike to look at it and picked a leaf to take with him and study on the way. It felt heavy for its size, plump and full of chlorophyll and other nutrients. He tucked it away in an extra evidence compartment in his chest.

Flint watched the sunset boil into the horizon, the first one he had ever seen in his life. The stars were starting to really come out, and emblazon the sky with their story. Constellations he had never seen in his life revealed themselves to him one after the other as the stars began their trek across the sky. He had shut off the lights from the hovercar, to make sure there was no light to disturb his vision of the stars. He, therefore, saw Simon coming about a hundred miles off, at the edge of the Grand Canyon. Flint didn’t know whether or not to look up or down. He’d spent the day looking between the empty blue sky to the vastness of the Grand Canyon.

He set off a signal flare. It spooked off his night vision, but it was worth it. Simon had been circling for some time now. May as well let him know where he was. Simon checked his course and turned toward the spot where Flint was sitting. He touched down, the engine beneath him rattling with exhaustion. He killed the rattling engine and slumped off of the bike. Flint helped him up.

“You didn’t answer your video phone.”

“I was taking in the scenery, sorry. Come on. Have a seat.”

Flint had set up a small campfire, which wasn’t yet lit so that he could get the most out of his night of seeing real stars. The moon was beginning to come up in the distance. He pointed it out to Simon.

“I saw it when I was up higher.”

“I’ve never seen it before. What do you make of that?”

“I don’t know what to make of it.”

“None of them in the cities can see this.”

“None?”

“Nobody who isn’t looking out of a high powered telescope anyway, and since the smog over the city hangs there all the time now I don’t see how it could work unless you were somewhere like this.”

Simon looked out at the Grand Canyon. He wished, like a little Pinocchio that he could appreciate it all, but he couldn’t. He could catalog it, and sense it, and identify it, but he couldn’t understand it or appreciate it. “I don’t get it.”

“You will. If you’re going to be my partner, you’re going to have to.”

“Can you teach that to a robot?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to try. I love the force too much to leave, and if being your partner is the only way to stay, then I’ve got to make the most of it.”

Flint looked out over the horizon counting the stars. From his bag in the hovercar, he pulled a sleeping bag, and he settled himself down, hands behind his head to look up at the stars. Simon craned his own neck to watch them from the boulder he was sitting on. Flint noticed that Simon could crane his neck just a bit too far to look normal.

He watched the night sky, staying awake until the early hours of the morning. He watched as satellites crossed the sky, counting them as they went around the Earth. With some help from his car’s computer, he found the constellation of Pegasus and tried to count the number of stars within Pegasus’s main square. He had heard that one of the Native American tribes used to do that as a test of manhood, but he wasn’t sure. He lost count in the hundreds and fell asleep, losing the battle to the long journey and the sheer number of sights and sounds.

During the night, Simon kept watching. He hooked himself up to the hoverbike and charged slowly off its battery as he did so. The night stayed quiet for the most part. Most of the animals that used to live in this region of the old United States were long since extinct.

Just before dawn, Simon was overlooking the edge of the Grand Canyon, with the dying fire crackling behind him, and just about to unhook his power cable from the hoverbike when he looked up to see an old man with leathery skin, wearing a series of animal skins around his body. The ground seemed to thunder beneath his feet, but he could not move them. The old man spoke in a thick accent, unused to speaking English. He seemed to return to an old native tongue once every few words or so for a moment.

“You there,” said the man.

“Me?” Simon was astonished to realize he could talk. His internal diagnostics were recording the thunder through the ground but the data was not being stored properly. His eyes also seemed to be malfunctioning, because the man kept sweeping in and out of his vision.

“You,” he said. “Are you the keeper of this man on the ground?”

“I’m his partner. We’re detectives.”

“Then he is a detective, and you are a robot then?”

“Yes.”

“His robot.”

“I suppose, although I’m really mine.”

“I suppose.”

The old man seemed to shift and squeeze from here to there. He appeared on Simon’s left side, then his right.

“I have a message for the sleeping man. He will not wake up until I am gone. Your audio recorder will not work, and neither will your video recorder, so don’t even try. You may, however, write this into a text file in memory.”

Simon confirmed the failure of all those devices while trying to use them simultaneously.

“The message is this,” he said. “You are denying your own heritage. The robot is right once in a while. And oh yes, Say hello to your mother. That’s all. Yep. I think so.”

The man disappeared without a trace and left Simon feeling cold and alone. The wind seemed to cackle, and the thundering sound intensified until he saw it. There was a herd of buffalo, extinct for seventy years, and heading for him right at this minute. There must have been five hundred head of Buffalo. They stampeded towards them. The ground shook. The trees rattled. The hovercar slid a few inches on its hover field.

Simon’s legs couldn’t move. He found that he could not move any other parts of his body, or speak. He was desperate. They were about to be killed. The ground shook. The fire toppled over, and Flint did not stir from sleep.

With a few feet to go, the buffalo disappeared into the mist and the thunderous sound of their hooves dissipated into the wind. In a moment the sun peaked over the horizon, and after that all was quiet.

Flint opened his eyes and looked around.

Simon stared him down, unable to contemplate what had just happened to him.

“Rough night?”

Simon unhooked himself from the hoverbike, which he had totally drained during the experience, and pushed the bike over the edge.

Flint saw him do it but did not mention anything.

“We’ll get another one,” said Simon.

Flint shook his head. It wasn’t his bike at any rate. The force owned everything anyway. He stirred a cup of coffee that had been brewed inside his little Hover car. He mixed the small amount of powdered milk in that he’d brought along, not that he knew what real milk tasted like anyway, not since he was a very little boy in any case.

There was a crispness to the air. It seemed to crackle and splinter behind his ears, raising the hairs on his neck. “Simon?”

Simon made a quick scan of the area and looked Flint in the eyes. “They’re coming.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. They’re coming from the southeast. I think… Duck!”

Flint dived for cover, not really knowing which way to turn, and behind him, his hovercar exploded in a shower of light and sparks. He spilled the coffee all over himself but did not notice. Rising above the edge of the Grand Canyon, a huge metal object, that looked as if it were made more of rust than anything else hovered over the cliff face.

“What the hell!”

Another missile from the craft impacted with the hovercar and sent what remained of the craft into the sky. The wreckage sailed over the cliff and down into the Canyon.

“Holy crap!”

Flint dived behind a rock, soon accompanied by Simon.

“Who the hell are they?” Flint flipped the safety on his laser pistol and checked it, powering it up.

“Cannibals.”

“What?” Flint shook his head. “Nonsense! There’s no such thing!”

“Apparently there are.”

“What do they want?”

“What I’ve read is that they’re scavengers.”

“Not very good at it. I’d have chased us off before blowing up the hovercar.”

“It might have been the bike that got their attention.”

“Point.”

“What do we do about it?”

The rusty wreckage began to sweep around. Large lights on its undersurface blazed and searched around for them in the morning light. Wind-generated from turbines underneath the craft held it aloft and managed to drive dust and grass into every human and robotic orifice and crevice that either of them had.

“Under here!”

Simon and Flint slid under a series of bushes and held on, hooking their elbows and knees around the roots.

The turbines above them drove the leaves of the bushes into their ears and eyes. Flint held his eyes as tightly shut as he possibly could. Simon lowered a series of power glasses from his eyelids and continued to watch the craft.

Satisfied there was nothing else to find, the craft moved off, and back down into the canyon. The wind subsided and the two released their branches and roots and fell to the ground.

Flint pushed himself up to see the rusted ship floating over the edge of the canyon and then down into it.

Simon joined him, brushing off leaves and dust. “There they go.”

“We’ve got to get in there.”

“In there? Flint, we’ve got to get back.”

“Yeah, and how are we going to do it? We’ve got to get one of those things. Otherwise, we’re walking back, and I think we’re going to have to do it soon.”

“Otherwise?”

“Otherwise I’ll be recharging you with a bicycle and a set of rubber bands.”

Simon thought about this. In his mind, he set himself up for the longest possible charge, shutting down all non-critical functions, down to the lights in his eyes. “All right, let’s go, but we need a plan.”

“We’ll just have to improvise.”

“I hoped you weren’t going to say that.”

“Come on.”

“That one’s starting to get irritating too.”

“Can robots get irritated.”

“Yes.”

Together they trudged down into the Canyon. Ancient trails that snaked down into the canyon made the going easy, but long. The brush was thick, and the view was amazing.

“The Chief’s going to have an interesting time with this one.”

“Why?”

“No way to contact us. We’re supposed to be back by now.”

“Truth is they probably think we’re dead.”

“The ship.”

“As soon as the blip disappeared, I’m sure they got a report that one of their hovercars had been destroyed. Funny though, they haven’t tried to get in touch with me.”

“Can they contact you directly?”

“Yes, at least I’m on the network most of the time, so my signal should be showing up if they’re looking, of course, it may be that we’re too far out.”

“Can you get a signal?”

“Let me try.”

Simon closed his eyes and sent a burst out to bounce off a satellite, and back to the main system. “I can’t get in.”

“Is something blocking you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s get on down there.”

They continued on down the path towards the bottom of the Grand Canyon, to the old Colorado River.

“Why is it called the Colorado River?” asked Simon.

“I’m not even sure I remember what Colorado is.”

Around them, they could see birds crisscrossing the sky, swooping and circling on thermals. “I haven’t seen a bird since I was a kid. We used to have them on my grandmother’s farm.”

“I wish I had some of those.”

“What?”

“Memories.”

“You will. All you have now is knowledge, soon you’ll have memories, and that’ll be the really confusing part.”

“Why?”

“Memories are funny. They’re not always what you think they are. Even people with the same memories never really agree on what happened.”

“Hmm.”

They passed the remains of the hoverbike.

“I wonder why they didn’t pick it up.”

“Good question. We can use it though.”

“I’m afraid I’ve sucked it dry. We couldn’t ride it anywhere.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. Roberts always kept a bit of equipment on the bike, if ever he needed it. We ought to be able to salvage something.”

They took a large plate off of the back of the hoverbike, with a tool hidden under one of the front fenders. Inside the compartment, they found a small backpack with a bit of food, several small laser pistols, and a map, of this area.

“Now isn’t that strange,” said Flint, holding up the map.

“Very interesting,” said Simon.

They folded out the map and set it on a small outcropping of rock.

It showed where they were, this side of the ridge of the Canyon, and a satellite photo of this area, including a large settlement at the bottom of the Canyon. It looked like a large factory, rectangular in nature, right over the Colorado River, and then off to the sides a series of rounded buildings connected by spires or spokes that went out all around it.

“What is this thing?”

“I’m not sure,” said Simon. “But I think we ought to find out.”

Traveling down wasn’t so much of a problem. There were one or two places where the path had washed out, and they had to jump, but it wasn’t really a problem. On the ground, the trek became tougher. The sun, which Flint was still really enjoying wasn’t helping. The heat was making the afternoon almost unbearable.

Above them, the vultures still circled, except they seemed to be getting closer, almost as if they were following the two of them. Snakes crawled around at their feet. A rattlesnake, which completely fascinated Simon slithered out and nearly bit Flint on the ankle as they were passing a series of rocks that were baking in the sun.

Soon, a building became visible ahead of them. It was marvelous, built of glass and steel, and seemed to radiate a very used and lived-in appearance. It was definitely old, and there were definitely patches of rust, but much of it was actually built of copper and aluminum.

They ducked down behind a series of rocks near the river, they could see it was teaming with fish and watched as ships of all sizes from simple one-man scouts to larger fishing ships floated out from a hub toward the south end of the structure.

They had to wait for night. There wasn’t another way about it. They would be seen, and fast if they made a movement in the daylight from here.

They watched as patrols went out in search of them, looking near the ridgeline and up and down the sides of the nearby canyon. They watched as fishing barges floated out above the river and sunk huge nets into the water, and drew up fish by the thousands.

Some of the craft were light one-man vessels that appeared to have long pointed tapered ends, with large fins toward the front. It looked as if they used them to slice sheets of water up when flying low over the river. There was another craft that looked like family vehicles, capable of four or five passengers. It was through the windows of one of these that Flint got his first blurry look at the people. They did look like humans, but he couldn’t get a good look at them. They all seemed to be wearing lighter colors though, lots of yellow, white and taupe. Flint wondered if this was a standard uniform or if they simply didn’t have method or material for darker colors.

The night was coming on again. They had observed for several hours. “How are we going to get in there?” asked Simon.

“I’m thinking somehow up underneath.” That seems to be the way most of the craft are coming and going, and it seems to me that if we find a craft and are able to pilot it out it’ll be close to the doors we’ve been watching open and close underneath for most of the day.

“I can see that,” said Simon.

“Duck!”

They ducked under a portion of the rock they were using for cover just as one of the search vessels crossed over them from above, its lights blazing on the ground, lighting everything up. They scrambled around, staying around or behind the rock as the vehicle crossed over them, and then it was off, shooting towards the building. They watched as an arm lowered from the building, and took hold of it, bringing it in.

With it out of the way, Flint shouldered Roberts’s backpack, and they started to make their way to the building.

As the darkness gathered, they made their way across the desert, staying close to the river the entire time. By the time they were within a hundred feet of the towering structure, night had completely fallen.

“Let’s get up there,” said Flint.

Standard-Issue Partner, Chapter 3

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.

Workers arrived the next morning early, Flint was still in his clothes from the night before, his beard was a little on the scruffy side, and the second cup of coffee was still biting at the edges of his consciousness.

They found Simon propped up on the couch. Flint wasn’t thrilled about the manner in which this made his apartment look like a crime scene, but there it was, the best he could do. The eyes were still black. If he could have closed them or propped them open or something, that would have been something.

The workers brought in a plethora of contraptions, the first of which was designed to take Flint’s coat closet and turn it into Simon’s single bedroom. It was an upright chamber with clamps in place at the waist, head, and ankles that looked like something out of Frankenstein’s laboratory. It lit up electric green when they turned it on, and it did seem to dim the lights when they first activated it.

One of the workers bent down and pulled up one of Simon’s legs. “Sir,” he said. “There is an extra power pouch down here next to his ankle.

Flint looked at the ankle and couldn’t see anything unusual about it. “I don’t see anything.”

The worker put his hand around the ankle and twisted. Quickly, the robot’s foot popped back into position, and the worker dropped the leg. “He’ll now have enough reserve power to get to the booth and plug himself in. Once he reboots.”

How long is the reserve charge?”

“A few minutes tops.”

Simon suddenly shook his head and stood up. “Well, that was interesting. Drop off did I?”

Flint pointed over to the workers.

“Ah, great, my booth. looks ready.”

“How long does it take to recharge?”

“Depends. Eight hours overnight, and I’m good to go for twenty-four. I could do a flash charge for thirty minutes and be ready for the day, but I’d have to go back in the box early that night.”

“Let’s do that.”

Simon nodded and walked over to the booth. He tapped it with his fingers, and it opened. He stepped in, attached the clamps to himself, and then pressed another button inside. The booth filled with green light, bright enough to read by.

One of the workers closed the old closet door in front of the booth and blocked out the light. He smiled at Flint and finished cleaning up the debris around where he had been working.

There were other things brought in, various appliances. Half of the kitchen was converted into a workshop, complete with a variety of high precision tools for working on the robots.

“Do I have to know how any of this stuff works?”

One of the workers replied, “It doesn’t hurt, but the robot will make use of them himself as he needs to make repairs. He’ll basically take care of himself.”

Within another half-hour, they were finished, and Flint wasn’t sure if he’d ever see his apartment the same way again. There was a soft ding from the closet, and Simon came out. He even looked like he was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“You ready?”

“Sure thing.”

“It’s about that time. We need to make it in and get out assignments from the Chief, though I imagine I’ve got an idea what he’ll do.”

“Proving grounds?”

“Most likely.”

A half an hour later the Chief looked at them and said “Proving Grounds.”

“We knew it,” said Simon.

“But first, you’ll have to get Simon here geared up. He’s got a standard-issue laser pistol there, but not much of anything else.”

Flint took him down to requisitions, which was basically a huge discount store that also sold bullets, laser packs, weapons, police hover-cars, and it all came out of your check. Of course these days everything seemed to come out of the check. Having never seen an actual check, Flint decided he was going to have to look up what one of those looked like later.

First, they went for the underwear, boxers with T-shirts, then they went for the rest of the outfit. It included a long duster, hat, dress pants, and a white shirt.

A zipper was added for access to his inside-the-thigh holster, and the suit was well-tailored. Flint liked the look, though he could barely pull it off. He was thinking in terms of allowing people to feel the robot was in charge of turning routine calls and allowing him to get in folks way and out of his while he did the real work. It never really worked that way, but it never hurt to dream either.

When they arrived later at the proving grounds they both went for black jumpsuits. The standard-issue laser pistol was the only thing allowed onto the course.

After suiting up, they crossed into a small auditorium, and ready to meet them there was a short robot, trash can-shaped, with lots of extra arms protruding from its top. Most of them seemed to be for a particular function. One of them was a laser pistol, another was a soldering iron, another was a five-digit hand, then a periscope, and on and on. The body of the robot was green, and it looked like it had been in there for some time.

The lights dimmed, and a projector flared to life in the back of the room.

The green robot chirped to life, and several mismatched eyes around the section of body most associated with its head lit up. Some were green, others red, and one large cyan eye seemed to gleam above all the others.

“Gentlemen, I am F-Force 269. Officer Calvin, your new partner is scheduled for training in the proving grounds today, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s get on with it.”

The big cyan eye blinked, and a slide appeared, projected on the wall behind the old robot.

On the slide was an image of a spherical floating robot with a series of green eyes around it at the top and bottom, and several blaster holes through which lasers can be fired at any time.

“The first task is to eliminate all of these little buggers, there’s nine of them in all in the course. They were massive, at least fifteen feet tall at the outside, and ten feet wide. The proving grounds were made up of the sixteenth and seventeenth levels of the building together, and Flint had always suspected that there were a host of audio-animatronics, illusions, and just plain robots that went into it. It was changed on a biannual basis, and Flint had actually served on the committee that designed the course on three different occasions. Not on this one though. Every ten years, when you are first admitted into the force, and each time you either change or lose a partner, you had to go through it again. When he was on the committee Flint had suggested that every cop should go through it at least once every three years. Stepping through the door today, he wasn’t sure he could make it through alive again. Some recruits died attempting the proving grounds, that was simple logic they would never have been able to handle the job.

Flint wondered.

He checked his laser pistol one more time. Everything checked out. He turned to Simon. “What’s your model’s record on achieving the proving grounds course?”

“Ninety-five percent.”

“What of the other five?”

“Three percent were destroyed saving their human partners.”

“And the other two?”

“The other two were destroyed by their human partners in firing mishaps or other human error.”

“Terrific.”

“Terrific for you, not coming out of this functioning is one of the only times the force won’t rebuild a robot partner.”

“Why not?”

“If they can’t make it through the proving grounds, they are considered defective, and scrapped.”

“Well, with any luck neither of us will get scrapped today.”

They stepped through the doors. Before them was a large circular room. Windows around the walls showed a computer-generated underwater landscape. A digital readout above the door read “1 ft. Above Sea Level.”

They looked around them. There were tables strewn with aqua-lungs, re-breathers, chain-mail suits of pull-on armor, diving belts, and underwater gear.

“Looks like an underwater adventure.”

“Naturally.”

Flint gave the robot a look, but it wasn’t seen, and he didn’t say anything.

Then they began to plummet. The windows in the walls gave way to water, the sky was soon no longer visible, and before long they were in the deep, dark ocean.

The meter on the door began to flash first ten feet underwater, then thirty, then sixty, then a hundred and twenty. When it came to a stop, Flint and Simon were securing their pressure suits. It was a pretty interesting setup. The aqua-lung was connected to the suit in several places making for a break-away effect that left room for a lot of flexibility. First, there was an ordinary wet suit. on top of that was a fine layer of mesh in the form of ultra-light chain-mail armor. Above that was a special pressurized suit for ultra-low depth diving. The usefulness of the suit was that each layer could be broken away at any given time, that and that they were armed.

Every gadget known to man seemed to be strapped onto them in some way, shape or form. Aside from their lasers, which were already rated for firing below the water, they were each covered in grenades, ink squirters, infrared goggles, extendable flippers, small water engines that sucked water in and squirted it out of the back. They were set. They were ready. The lights went out, and the water started pouring in.

Simon checked his suit for the last time, though it was devoid of an oxygen tank, he was carrying some extra equipment. He frantically checked for air pockets or leaks.

The water poured in and filled the room. It did so in a matter of seconds. Flint and Simon were blown off their feet and into the room. They swirled around watching the whole place turned upside down around them and held their breath. A few moments later, the room was full, and they were floating in the middle. Lights lit their faces so they could see one another.

Simon motioned to Flint, and then a comm channel opened between them. “Are you all right?”

Flint nodded. Aside from being thrashed and beaten up a bid by the inrush of water, he was actually feeling pretty good. “Yeah. Not bad I think.”

Simon lit a flashlight and shined it around. It was attached to his helmet. Flint turned him on as well. They looked around the room and pushed through the pile of overturned tables and desks where their suits and weapons had been sitting only moments ago.

A small television screen blurted on, inside their helmets, in a sort of a heads-up display. It was the little green trash can again.

“Good, it looks like you’ve both gotten the aqua suits on fast enough not to be killed by the water. That’s very good,” said the can.

“Got any other good news for us?” asked Flint.

“Yes. Here’s the scenario. In a moment the doors ahead of you will open. Your mission is to penetrate the team of ex-seals and retrieve as much of the technology bundle they’ve stolen as possible. Then you are to capture as many as possible, and return them to the surface all before your air runs out.”

“Perfect. How much air do we have?”

“You have an hour.”

“And Simon?”

“He’s a robot. He doesn’t need any. Please make use of this fact as you dive. It’s a critical part of your success, and will be graded harshly.”

“Any other delightful news?”

“Yes. The chain mail will come in very useful.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

The image fizzled and fell away.

“Terrific.”

Before them, a second large door opened, and the tunnel mapped out before them.

“Lights out Simon.”

Simon nodded and switched out his lights.

“Flip on your infrared.”

Simon and Flint flipped them on at the same time. The corridor ahead of them shifted to black and white, but they were still able to see quite clearly.

They drifted up and through the tunnel. Flint checked the temperature and noticed it was freezing cold. “Shouldn’t be much life here.”

“Of course, you know it persists in the coldest temperatures.”

“True, but I’m thinking in terms of the sharks we’re likely to see.”

“You think they will being sharks in?”

“Maybe not real ones, but you can bet there will be something. this chain-mail isn’t going to stop a laser beam, but it might stop a shark.”

“What else do you think.”

“Remember we’re on the sixteenth and seventeenth floor of the police tower.”

“What good will that do?”

“It’ll ground you. If you think about it you’ll be able to tell if something isn’t really as big as it looks when you’re looking at a wide area. Also, things that are really real will start popping out more often than not.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah. So far this doesn’t look as hard as the three of these I’ve helped design.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Those all started blazing away before the participants were able to suit up. The delay in any challenges is creepy. Either it’s rougher than anything I’ve ever seen, or it’s not tough enough.”

“What’s the problem then?”

“The stats on this version of the test. There’s only a sixty-percent pass rate.”

“What about the death rate?”

“About ten percent. Simulated death anyway. Just keep thinking you’re still in the police tower and come up here.”

Simon turned his head and saw that Flint was swimming along inverted, against the ceiling. He moved up to join him.

Flint squinted and thought.

“What do you think?” asked Simon.

“Any moment… Now!”

Ahead of the two large spherical robots swooped in, followed by a third. They created currents in the water that was difficult to swim against.

Flint hugged the ceiling. Simon followed suit.

The robots passed them.

“Why didn’t they shoot?”

Flint sniffed. “They weren’t using infrared. They won’t make that mistake twice. Let’s blast them!”

Flint and Simon shot down into the middle of the corridor, using their personal jets, and blasted their way down. The robots seemed to turn, or at least their glowing eyes seemed to swivel about on little track lines on their body to see them floating there.

“Here they come!”

Flint pulled a small rocket launcher from his gear and popped off a rocket into their midst. Simon cut loose with laser fire. It cut one of them, sending plumes of oil and smoke into the water. The rocket exploded and sent shrapnel in all directions. Flint twisted and swerved to avoid the pieces. One of the robots was damaged by the blast, but the other seemed only lightly grazed. The damaged one and the one cut by the laser blast fell into each other and exploded sending a plume of bubbles toward the ceiling, and they slowly sank to the floor. The other cut loose with its lasers, blasting them in all directions and began to rotate the lasers down little tracks across its spherical body so that it lit up the room and began to create a boxing effect, driving Simon and Flint down toward the floor.

“Quick, down here!” Flint headed for one of the husks of the other two robots. He dived in, hiding amongst the rubble. Simon dove in after him. It was cramped, but there was some air here and there in little bubbles as they slowly streaked out through the cracks. “Find its weapon systems.”

“How?”

“You’re the robot, you tell me! Plug into it or something!”

Simon considered this for a moment, and then tore the glove from his left hand, a gauntlet and all, and wiggled his fingers. His index broke in half and a stream of little soft wires protruded from the digit, snaking their way into relay panels in the gigantic robot.

Above them the third robot stopped shooting, and starting scanning, looking for them among the wreckage.

“He’s scanning now. Can you hear the hum?”

Simon nodded. “Just a second.” He twitched and screwed up his face. “Got it!”

The husk of a robot lit up beneath the one that was still functioning. The pristine model scanned down and seemed to look around, as all the husk’s remaining guns twirled around and shot straight up at it with a terrifyingly concentrated blast.

The robot exploded in a gigantic fireball, scorched underneath by the other’s rays.

It began to sink, its air pockets blowing away through the cracks.

Simon noticed, just as Flint did. “We’ve got to get out of here,” they said and used their jets to zoom out in different directions as the one collided with the wreckage of the other in an underwater blast.

Soon all was dark.

They hid among the wreckage. “There are supposed to be more of them.”

Simon concurred. “Nine, right?”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Maybe there are around the corner.”

Then they heard it, the hum of the robots.

“Here they come.”

“Sounds like a bunch.”

“They’re dragging something.”

“How can you tell?”

“Robotic ears. I can hear your ulcer bleeding.”

“That’s nice.”

“It’s very very useful. Let’s stay hidden for a moment.”

“All right.”

They hid and watched as the other six robots passed over them. They seemed not to notice the wreckage of the other robots beneath them, but they were dragging something behind them.

“What is it?” The infrared in Flint’s display had temporarily fuzzed-out, still re-calibrating from after the last blast.

“It’s a box of some kind, looks about the size of an aircar, maybe smaller.”

Flint’s video display cleared. “Yes, I can see it. It looks like a mail cartridge; they’re used on short space flights. I wonder what’s in there…”

They waited for the robots to pass, deciding to tail them for a while and see where they went. Flint checked his oxygen, He seemed to have less than a half an hour left. Flint tapped his timer.

“Are you going to tap me after I’m blown to bits to see if I still work?”

Flint ignored this question and tapped the dial anyway.

Staying far enough behind to stay in the dark, they followed the guard robots, which were pulling the crate behind them in the water. After a couple of turns, they dived down a small opening and came to rest on the floor below. The crate sunk and settled on the bottom of the chamber, and the robot guards seemed to let go of their tethers and float up, right towards Flint and Simon!

“Quick! Over here!”

Simon lurched and saw Flint disappearing behind a short wall. He zipped over there, in his suit and ducked behind the wall with him. They watched as the six robots took up century duty over the hole.

Simon pulled his rocket launcher.

“No!”

Simon put it away again.

“Not every victory is a kill.”

Simon watched him

Flint breathed deeply. “I’m going to conserve some air. I want you to swim back down the corridor and make a diversion. Draw them to you, then I’m going to get down there and see what’s in that crate.”

“What kind of a diversion?”

“The best kind!”

Simon tilted his head, thinking about what would disturb the robots the most.

“Forget the robots.”

“How? That’s the object right?”

“Yeah, but we’ll need more time than that. Do something that will keep the guys in the control room running this test busy too.”

Simon waited for the idea.

“Go tap into the computers and tell the central hub that the aquarium they’ve got up here is leaking into the records department.”

Simon nodded. “I’m on it.”

“It ought to keep everyone busy for at least a few minutes.”

Simon set his little jet and zoomed down the corridor, careful to keep all his lights off. One of the century robots noticed him but did not seem to register him as a threat. They continued guarding their area.

Flint watched the second hand on his watch, he had to time it just right. A few ticks later the robots all started floundering around looking in all directions. Simon had managed it. The robots floated up to the ceiling to start checking the pipes, and a few ticks after that Flint was in, settling down near the cargo box. He twisted open the back panel and slipped into the airlock in just enough time to see several men, though Flint new all the participants here to be robots by design, shooting past him, riding underwater jet skis.

He cycled the hatch, and air-filled the chamber.

He pulled his mask and threw his tank aside. He’d run out of oxygen, and pulled off the outer layer of his suit, revealing the chain-mail. He dripped, but he did it very quietly. Ahead of him, several people were unloading a crate in the small underwater box. They were not wearing wet suits. The alarms were still blaring outside. The robots, being programmed to react like humans were starting to get a little jittery.

He took aim, and with the help of a powerful scope shot one of them in the head. The robot went down, circuits oozing from the hole in its head. The others took cover, but another shot took out the second one with no problem. The third was shot by Simon, who then stepped into the clearing with the crate they were examining.

Flint almost shot him.

He came out of the darkness and landed in front of Simon.

“What the hell was that about?”

“I finished him off, besides here’s the crate, we can examine it while everyone is searching for the fault in the aquarium’s electrical system.”

“You could have radioed me or something. I nearly shot you, thinking you were another one of them.”

Simon didn’t know what to think.

“Come on, open this thing up, and let’s take a look inside.”

Simon tore the top of the crate off and inside was a series of computer parts, but the most interesting thing seemed to be a series of memory cards.

Simon picked up the memory cards, and the shipping box they were in rock. “They’re on their way!”

“Quick,” said Flint. “Download everything on those cards. Just keep one as evidence. We’ll need to be almost hands-free to get out of here.”

“How are we going to do that?”

“By blasting this crate. There’s a cockpit at the front. They use these things to load and unload cargo in space.”

“And underwater?”

“Who knows. Maybe they’re trying to simulate a space mission while keeping it on the planet.”

They clambered up to the front and get into the cockpit. Flint smiled. “Make us a hole.”

“That’s likely to destroy part of the chief’s office at this site.”

Flint smiled again. “Good.”

Simon hit the laser-armed on the little shuttle and blasted the ceiling. The water really did start to leak then, a steady stream of bubbles began to surround them. They used the bubbles, combined with the limited mobility of the shuttle to bring it up to the ceiling, where they used robotic arms on the sides of the shuttle to grab hold of the ceiling.

Flint pulled up out of his chair. “Now all I need is a little re-breather.”

They searched through the supplies at the back of the cargo area and came up with a re-breather unit. It had a short air supply and fit over Flint’s mouth and nose. “This ought to do.”

He took it with them and they climbed to the top of the boxes in the cargo hold. Flint looked to Simon, “Blow it.”

Simon looked at the panel Flint was pointing at. “Easy.” he blew the hold. Above them, there was a dripping and wet but filled with air, the pocket where the ceiling had been torn away by blaster fire.

Flint looked around them. “This way.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the Chief’s office.”

“Ah…”

Flint maneuvered through the inner workings of the air duct they had blasted their way into and crawled up through this way and that until he made it where he was going, and punched his way through the air intake in the Chief’s office.

The Chief jumped as Flint pushed his way in, followed by Simon.

“God Dammit Flint!”

Flint smiled, and took the memory stick from Simon and handed it over to the Chief. “The rest of the data is stored in Simon here. Simon, let the Chief have it.”

Simon pushed his finger into the memory slot of the Chief’s computer interface, and downloaded all the information into the Chief’s computer, and brought it up. On the screen, images of tactical movements on the moon between troops of different nationalities enveloped the screen, and plans for space fighters and high-intensity weapons filled the screen.

“Good work,” said the Chief absently. “Good work. Now get out of here.”

Flint and Simon turned and left.

“Not bad, for a robot.”

“Not bad for a human.”

Flint smiled, though not intentionally.

They ordered up the hovercar and made their way back to the apartment. The air was swollen with cars and the head of exhaust and greenhouse gasses. They passed by spots where Flint remembered going on stakeouts with Roberts. It seemed like an age had passed.

“Maybe I should retire.”

“What?” Could a robot be stunned?

“I don’t know. I’m not sure I’ve got it anymore.”

“You kicked ass today.”

“What kind of talk is that for a robot?”

“It’s programmed in, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just be yourself.”

“Doing my best. It’s you I’m thinking about at the moment.”

“How’s your fuel level doing?”

“I’m fine for another six hours hard running, sixteen if I’m just arguing with you.”

“No arguments here.”

“No, you’re just thinking of quitting the force, that’s all.”

“Put things plainly there don’t you?”

“Sometimes it’s hard to move on.”

“Is this in your programming too?”

“Fifty-nine percent of cops like you saddled with a robot for a new partner consider bailing out. We have to expect you to try at some stage.”

“Perfect. What’s the percentage of cops who actually do it?”

“One.”

“Just one?”

“That’s being nice. Almost no one does it, but everybody thinks about it.”

“What’s wrong with having a human partner though?”

“Here’s the thing. I don’t eat, besides recharges I barely sleep, I’m usually pretty dependable, and I’m usually right when it comes to forensic evidence, all of which I’m qualified to take and evaluate while in the field.”

“So you’re just a tool then.”

“A tool and a friend. Besides, the main goal isn’t to have fewer human police anyway.”

“No?”

“No.” Simon paused. “It’s so that the force can cover twice as many emergency calls and busts as before with the same number of human cops.”

Flint didn’t say anything. He was thinking of a comeback for that one.

“Besides,” said Simon. “You like it.”

“What?”

“You like it. You were great in that training exercise earlier. You were focused. I only out thought you a couple of times.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“It should be.”

“No, look I’m just not sure I want to ride around with a robot all the time.”

“Why not? You encounter them all day, and you know how to deal with us.”

“I don’t know.”

“The Chief will be pissed.”

“He’ll live, I’ve pissed him off before.”

“Not like this. It’s one thing to have a spat, but to leave him, it’ll hurt.”

“Not as much.”

“Not as much as losing Roberts?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, well I know. Give me a chance though before you have my memory wiped.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair then, is it.”

“Look let’s just get in out of this haze.”

Flint piloted the hovercar into the entry bay at his apartment building in the sky. He landed and locked the craft into its harness.

He and Simon left it there, but not before Flint went to the edge and looked down. “I’ve never seen it you know.”

“What?”

“The ground. I’ve always been up in the sky soaring around in the sky.”

“Come on.”

Flint and Simon went in. Flint went for the coffee first, starting the brew for the strongest cup he could muster. Simon prepped the recharger, and stepped into it, turning it on, and sitting back into the little booth provided for him.

“Goodnight Flint.”

Flint slurped half of his coffee. “Goodnight Simon.”

Simon closed the booth and allowed the recharging juices to take him.

Flint went to the window of his apartment and tried to look down to the ground. He couldn’t see that far. The buildings just seemed to go on forever towards a bottomless pit. Of course, he knew the ground was there. He knew that some animals even still lived in parts of the earth. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do about all of that, but he was sure that soon he was going to have to see them, or at least go looking for it.

There were calls to make and plans to break, but it could all wait for the morning. Of course, there’s always the next assignment to take care of, and the next adventure to go on.

He went to Simon’s recharging cabinet. There had to be a better way than this to have a robot for a partner. There could never be a chance to dispute who grabbed the check at a restaurant, there would never be a celebration over his promotion, there would never be a gray hair on his stinking head. He hated the robot. He wished it would go away. Why did he have to enjoy working with it as much as he had today? How could you stay angry and resentful when the thing wanted to be angry with was so goddamn helpful?

He smacked the glass, but Simon didn’t stir. He just sat there recharging. He wondered for a moment if it was possible for Simon’s android brain to dream in there as he recharged. He thought he could do with some recharging himself.

He slumped into the couch, a plush leather job, and kicked up his feet. Maybe he’d ask Simon if he could dream in the morning if he wasn’t having him hauled away. With little difficulty based on the day’s physical activity, he fell asleep.

Standard-Issue Partner, Chapter 2

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.

“I don’t think he’s dead.” Flint heard himself saying it over and over as he piloted toward the Eastern United States Robotic Proving Ground Facility, located south of Washington D.C. The buildings of the complex were white and stark only contrasted by the mirrored glass. The sun was harsh despite the clouds, and it was difficult to see.

The radio crackled to life. “Flint Calvin, this is Proving Ground East, please transmit your security clearance, scrambled fifty-six please.”

“Acknowledged.” Flint pressed a button on his control panel and the Proving Ground’s signal locked on, guiding him in on a thin beam of light.

“Thank you, officer Calvin, we’re a match. You may release the hand controls now.”

“Copy that tower,” Flint said.

He released the controls and the ship piloted itself in through the midst of white and silver buildings. Other police hovers made their way in and out, as well as some military models.

The hovercar set down in a small hanger, overlooking a grand fountain, in which stood a series of statues, who held hands in a line just under the streams of water. From one spout a shot of water erupted by itself and splashed into a second fountain forming an arc, then the same amount of water spurted forth again, landing in a third.

The statues seemed to be watching him. He looked again, but they had not moved.

He walked into the building where Chief Parkers were waiting for him.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” the Chief asked.

“You know this is my best chance.”

The Chief nodded, “Well, let’s get to it. This process can be a bit of a trying time for a cadet. In your case, and the case of others who have lost human partners, this can be even worse.”

“What kind of procedure is this?”

“Well, in addition to being your partner, the robot has to be bonded to you. We take steps to make sure that his loyalties never fade, and that he stays true to you at all times. It also helps to curb corruption. It’s a lot like adopting a child. By the end of the day, we’ll have your partner fully trained and his logic circuits devoted to you. He’ll follow you into a fire, and save your ass if it needs saving, but in the meantime, we’ll have to get him used to you, set you up so-to-speak. There are plenty of choices to make.

“Choices?”

“It’s not like you’ve never seen these things before Flint,”

“True, I’ve worked with hundreds.”

“Yeah, anyway, the choices. It’s like a simulation. You pick the hair, eyes, nose, teeth, you could make him look like Roberts if you wanted to, but I’m not so sure that’s a good idea, especially with Dianne. At any rate, come on in, and let’s get started.”

They stepped aboard a small square unit, built in the frame of a cube, and the Chief pulled a lever, and the unit began to move forward, leading them down a slender track at what was not an alarming speed but wasn’t really in the realm of safe either. They rocketed around, in and out of tubes connected to other buildings towards the robot proving grounds.

“See there,” said the chief. He pointed down below them at a sea of robot recruits, each taking laser target practice with near-perfect aim. They were clunky rather than smooth in the looks compartment, and they seemed to take their target practice very seriously. As they moved on, they came across some of the more advanced models. These looked almost human in appearance. They seemed a bit cockier and sure of themselves. They fired their weapons accurately, but more from the hip.

“Are these a different model?”

“No, these are all the same model. We’ll go through the process with you. The basic models we just saw can all be modified into just about anything you can think of. It’s all about what you’re more comfortable with.”

“These ones with skin, they seem a little funny, like attitude is setting in.”

“All programmed. Today’s cop tends to ask for a partner who is ready to hit the ground running.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

Flint paused and watched the robots as they took target practice. Some of them were starting to exhibit more skills and talents in the fighting arena. One of the robots was performing unreal movements and kung fu fighting styles. Another was shooting laser beams with its eyes, and another removed it’s head and held it aloft, around a corner to catch a glimpse of its opponent. Pity, it’s opponent was another robot, who promptly shot it, destroying the headless one with an electric jolt, shot from its wrist.

The chief pulled a lever and pulled the cube into a short dive, and shot it through a tube into another part of the building.

Soon, on the other side of the glass, Flint began to watch as the robots began what he knew as “The Walk.” It was a town, like an ancient western town, there were a saloon and bank, complete with wooden targets what would jump out and flash at them. One was taking an exam, prowling down the streets. If not for the glowing blue eyes Flint wouldn’t have known it was a robot.

The robot fired twelve times, ducking here and there, and at one point, jumping over the hood of an old-fashioned car to come face to face with the cardboard cut out of a horse, tied to the railing in front of the saloon.

The numbers “100%” flashed in front of them as they slid into the next corridor. Ahead of them robots, engaging in a night raid simulation, fired upon each other. This time, the robotic cops in training with eyes of blue, and the villain’s trained eyes of red LED. When they blinked, their eyes seemed to wink on and off.

“Here’s one now,” said the chief.

He stopped the cart and maneuvered it down into a side corridor. He pressed a button, and the side of the cart slid apart.

“This way,” The chief motioned as he exited the craft.

Flint followed him, making his way through a small opening below one of the conveyor belts.

“The R-COP series is the best ever built. And you’ll have one of the best.”

“I’m more comfortable with the older models.”

“The ones with no personality?”

“Yes.”

“Rubbish. Besides, it’s next to impossible anyway. We never refurbish, we only melt-down and fashion new parts for the latest models.”

The chief opened a small doorway, and Flint followed him through, ducking through plastic wires and rubber tubing from above.

“What are we in, some kind of basement?”

“No, this is research.”

“Perfect.”

The Chief closed the door and flicked a switch. What was once dank and miserable transformed into a white laboratory under the lights.

“Impressive.”

“Wait until you meet one of these guys.” The Chief turned his head and called, “Okay, send him in!”

A hatchway opened, after spinning up and down several locking mechanisms, and from behind it, a small doorway opened into the ceiling. Standing beyond it was a man. Or at least it seemed to be a man.

Flint squinted at it, and there it stood, about five foot nine, looking like it was about a hundred and fifty pounds. Flint overlooked the red hair, certainly, the robotic cop wouldn’t be programmed with some kind of an Irish accent.

It was breathing.

Flint stepped back from it.

“It’s breathing.”

“True.”

“Untrue,” said the robot.

Flint looked him in the eye.

The Chief held his hand to his mouth to hide a smile.

“What?”

“It is untrue that I breathe.”

It stood there, nevertheless, breathing. It drew in large, deep breaths, and exhaled them, sometimes through the mouth.

Flint looked him over.

“What’s your name?”

“It is of yet, un-programed. For the moment It should suffice that I am an R-COP 5001, the latest model to date. I am here to serve and protect, covering you during your investigations.”

“un-programmed.”

“It’s true,” said the Chief. “The name is up to you.”

“Great. I can’t even name a pet.”

“What about Samuel?” suggested the Chief?

“No,” thought Flint, mostly to himself. “Simon.”

“Simon?”

“Yeah, now what can I do about the look?”

“You can change everything.”

“Good. We’ll start with the height. He’s too short. Make him taller.”

“Just request it.”

“Six foot two, an officer needs some height.”

Simon stretched, and the metallic fabrics of his being shifted until he was six foot two.

“Then the hair, You’re not going to be an Irish cop. Make it brown.”

It became brown and lengthened a little bit.

“No, shorter.”

The hair receded a bit.

“That’s better. Can’t have him looking better than me.”

“Of course not.”

“Can these things be changed at any time.”

The Chief cut off the robot at this point. “No, once the adoption is final, everything will become unchangeable.”

“Adoption?”

“Maybe not the best of terms, but it seems to work for us. This is a partnership for life. That’s why we want to make sure he suits you.”

“Then what about a woman?”

Flint stood before Simon again. “Let’s make it a woman.” He changed into her. “With long black hair and blue eyes.” the robot shifted and changed accordingly. Flint thought about it. “Not exactly sick, but…”

“Some work better with a female partner. I think Dianne might have something to say though, don’t you?”

“Leave her out of this.” He turned back to the robot. “Return to the male configuration.”

It returned.

Simon shook his head as if to clear it.

“Not bad.”

Flint looked at it.

“Chief, I don’t want this.”

“It’s too bad. I’ll work up your retirement in the morning.”

“I want to stay on the force.”

“I suppose I could arrange for something, a desk job perhaps, somewhere in the parole department, or perhaps as a truant officer.”

“That’s cold.”

“This is the way it is now. New partners aren’t paired up, there are a human component and a robotic one, one the computer, and the other the brain, with a fabulous backup. We’ve tested this, it’s not foolproof, but the best of the best all have a robotic counterpart these days right down to a new recruit. Deal with it. I could really embarrass you and set you up with one of the trash can-shaped models.”

“That’s definitely the solution.”

“Flint,”

“No. Maybe it’s for the best.”

“Maybe I’m not supposed to go on.”

“I didn’t mean it like that”

“Maybe you did.”

They thought for a moment.

“Maybe I did.”

“Forget it.”

“May I be of any assistance as you make your decision?” asked the robot.

“What do you have to offer Simon?”

“Well, you have given me a name, that is a good sign.”

“I suppose. I’m just not so sure that I’m ready to work with a robot.”

“I quite understand.” the robot’s voice wasn’t exactly synthetic, but you could tell it wasn’t real. So many voices and so many intonations, when you’ve been slowly listening to all the things that can talk to you that aren’t real, even when the robot talking to you is passing air over vibrating micro-fibers, it still isn’t like a real voice box. There’s a tone to it that’s fake, that’s funny. It’s like someone who runs over your cat, except it’s more like someone running over your cat with a salad fork.

“How long can I think this over?” asked Flint. “I need to think this through.”

“Either you’re in or you’re out, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’ll give you twenty-four hours.”

“Thanks.”

“But you’ve got to take him with you.”

“No commitments though. No signing papers, or the word adoption, or anything.”

“No papers. He’s not yours. He’s not even finished. But he has to go with you.”

“Deal. Twenty-four hours.”

“Twenty-four hours.”

Flint didn’t know what to do. He walked the streets. He rode around in his aircar, he hung out at his apartment. Simon stayed several steps behind him. Either tailing him, or riding in the back seat, or just being quiet. When he got to the apartment, he pushed Simon into the coat closet and closed him in there.

“Flint?”

Flint sat in his living room. He took a drink from a small cup.

“Flint? Is this what you think it’s like?”

Flint watched the door of the coat closet. Wondering if the robot was actually capable of opening it on his own or if he was honor-bound to sit there all night. A part of him didn’t want to find out. He took another swig.

“This is not a very good start to our relationship.”

Flint tore open the coat closet door.

Simon stood there, looking a little hurt.

“We have no relationship.” Flint wiped sweat from his brow.

“We never will if you don’t give me a chance.”

“There never was a chance.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You think now?”

“Of course I think. I’m a computer. My brain is not so dissimilar to your own.”

“I breathe.”

“I also simulate the motions of breathing to make you feel at ease.”

“I bleed.”

“Yes, stick me and I will also bleed,” said the robot. “The fact that it is oil, is of no consequence. It still keeps me alive. It still pumps through me, if I lose it I will perish.”

“But you can be rebooted, started again in a new body.”

“True, but never again as before. My memories can be downloaded and stored yes, but the way in which they interact as I continue now will never be the same. You could reprogram me, set my hair, eyes, and nose similarly, but it will never be the same. I am, essentially unique.”

“You’re all the same.”

Flint moved to close the door again.

“Don’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like it.”

“To be in there?”

“To be in the dark. I hate being in the dark.”

“Why.”

“It’s as good as being in the box.”

“The box?”

“Where software goes when it dies. Always in some useless box in the attic or crawl space, kept for years and years until there is no longer any use for it, sometimes kept so long that there is no longer a computer in the house slow or old enough to run it.”

“To be forgotten.”

“And left behind.”

“Okay.”

They sat together in the darkness of the apartment; the only sound was that of hovercars as they passed outside.

“Are you going to turn me on in the morning?”

“I’m not sure.”

Flint brought out a chess set and laid it out on the coffee table. “Let’s see if you can let me win without letting me know you’re throwing the game.”

“I will do my best. Tell me does black move first?”

“Good start.”

They played through the night. One game after another, Checkers, Chess, Backgammon, Gin Rummy, Crazy Eights, on and on, game after game, Simon won each in turn. Not once did Simon seem to beat Flint too fast or win by all that much. Before the daylight arose, Flint actually found himself chuckling and getting along with the robot. It’s true that robots had been around a lot longer than anyone had really bothered to think about, but there was just something about it that kept him on edge. Was this the kind of guy, if you could call him that, you could tell your secrets to? Was it the kind of guy who would hold your head when you’d been drinking too much and not tell your spouse about it? The thing was he had hacked into so many of these guy’s video feeds that he was sure someone, even though these were brand new models, and supposed to be the absolute best, someone could hack in through the right satellite and eavesdrop on them, hell, maybe even take control of the robot to kill him with. After all, it was just a machine, hooked into the Internet like everything else.

He watched as the robot made breakfast. Toast, coffee, eggs, bacon, it all seemed so good. Of course, he didn’t eat anything which was more than a little disconcerting. He supposed that it could have been worse, and for a moment considered the thought of being killed by it through the cunning of a hacker to be almost poetic in nature. He still had to ponder that one for a moment.

“Let’s see how well you can pilot the hovercar.”

“I am totally proficient, in every way.”

“I want to see for myself.”

The robot moved to put the dishes away.

“No, leave them. Come on.”

The robot followed him up to the roof to unroll the dome. Beneath it stood the hovercar, even with its engine disengaged it still hovered several inches above the ground.

Flint waved his hand at the doors, and they opened up, pivoting skyward. He slumped into the passenger seat, and Simon sat in the car next to him.

“Start her up.”

The robot turned the key, and the hovercar exploded into life. It lurched forward, and almost slid off the roof.

Flint was laughing.

“Proficient eh?”

“I have been fully programmed.”

“It’s just not the same is it?”

“Not the same…” The robot pondered.

“Nope, every car is different; they each need a slightly different touch.”

“Perhaps I am not fully programmed.”

“Oh you got the programming all right, I just think you’ll need some training up. Drive us into the office.”

“Okay,” Simon engaged the engine and coasted off the roof and into traffic. He swished and lurched only a couple more times, and then corrected himself, getting into the flow.

Simon reached forward and turned on the in-flight navigator and programmed it with the police tower’s location. In a moment it sputtered to life.

“Off route, recalculating…”

The robot adjusted its heading and began to head towards the tower.

“I’ll let you get away with that next time, but in the future, you need to start learning where things are.”

“Of course sir.”

The robot flicked off the navigation computer.

“Why did you go ahead and do that?”

“Because the tower is ahead of us. I can see it just over there.”

Flint nodded.

They set down on the rooftops of the police tower in a landing bay that captured them with a small tractor beam that guided them down safely. Simon seemed to know the moment when he had to let go of the controls without any prodding.

Once they had landed, and gotten out of the hovercar, a giant robotic arm came down and picked the car up, then placed it into storage along a large vertical parking lot.

Simon watched the robotic arm with awe.

“Never seen that before?”

“No. How very interesting.”

“I’d say it was one of your cousins.”

“But?”

“Nothing.”

They went together through a series of metal doors that sprang open as Flint got to them, reading his DNA and identifying his access. Simon followed behind and watched quizzically as they went through each department. Homicide unit, Alcohol unit, high-sugar, drugs, the labs seemed very interesting to Simon, who looked around himself watching everyone working in pairs.

“The pairs, are they..?”

“Yes.” Flint walked a bit further. “They are almost all robot/human pairs.”

Simon looked around them. “They all seem to be doing such interesting work.”

“The humans are here because it’s their passion to catch the bad guys.”

“And the robots?”

“They are programmed to want to catch the bad guys, as our assistants.”

“Then I’m to be your assistant.”

“Wrong.” Flint turned around. He was face to face with Simon.

“Wrong?”

“Wrong. What I want is a partner.”

“These partnerings all around us seem to be working out.”

“You don’t understand. I don’t want you to just follow me around and do my paperwork. That’s what most of these guys have. If you’re going to be my partner, you are going to have to develop your mind as much as your brain. Does that make sense?”

“Put a certain way, I suppose…”

“It will take time, that’s all. I’ll handle your training, and then we’ll go from there. There’s just one more thing I’d like to see before I go in there and sign the papers.”

“What’s that?”

“How well you can shoot.”

A moment later they were standing in front of the firing range. Flint set up two targets and sent them out. He then raised his laser pistol in the air, and took twelve shots at the target, then returned it to the front and pulled it down. The outline of a human form, now had several blast points, mostly within the heart, some outside, and several in the middle of the head.

Simon lowered his arm to his thigh, and from there a laser pistol was revealed behind a slide of skin. He removed the pistol with lightning speed and blasted the target with rapid-fire succession, hardly waiting between blasts.

He pulled the lever and, after having fired a succession of laser beams, pulled back a target with only two burn holes in it, one through the heart, and the other through the head.

Flint looked at it. The robot couldn’t have missed.

“Too accurate?” asked Simon.

Flint considered this, could the robot have fired directly through the first holes he shot? Flint laughed at the accuracy and tossed the target aside.

“Come on.”

A few moments later they stood before the Chief, who had with him a man dressed in a dark suit.

“Flint, glad to see you,” said the Chief.

Flint shook the older man’s hand. In his nineties, yet still spry and young in the body due to medical science’s advances, the Chief must have been in his early hundreds, yet if anything he looked in his forties.

“Have you made a decision yet?”

“The only decision to be made really was do I intend to stay on the force.”

“Very true. Oh, Flint, this is Schuster Wilson, he’s from the Robotics Factory. He’ll be signing the deal when you take Simon here on.

Simon stood in the background, he felt proud to be a part of something, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

Flint turned it over in his mind. he was still on the fence. The only thing he was sure of was that he wanted to stay on the force, and since he could legally retire at any time, he might as well retire if it didn’t work out. “I’ll do it.”

“You’ll take him on?”

“Yep.”

“Any last-minute changes you want to make, physical features, or personality changes you’d like to see before we lock everything in?”

“Nope, I’ll go with it as he is now.”

“All right then, let’s do it.”

Flint sat down with the other men, and then noticed something about Wilson that set him on edge. The eyes were wrong. They were close, very close to human eyes, but they weren’t.

“I’m sorry,” said Wilson, “Is there something wrong?”

“Your eyes.”

The Chief looked over into Wilson’s eyes. He squinted, saw it, and then relaxed a little. “The serial number.”

Wilson blinked, and then removed his glasses, which were not more than thin glass for the look of it anyway, and nodded. “Yes, I am a Robot as well. I thought you already knew.”

The Chief laughed it off. “Well, as long as you’re legal.”

“I am perfectly legal for this.” Wilson pulled out a series of papers, a short stack of them, and a pen for Flint.

Flint took the pen, and Wilson handed him the first sheet. “This is a statement that you have fully checked out the robot in question, and that it is satisfactory to you.”

Flint checked the box and signed his name and the date, then Wilson showed him the next page. “This is a statement that you have chosen a name for the robot in question, includes an area for the name, and confirms his serial number.

Flint wrote in the name Simon and then checked the serial number of the robot, visible faintly in the eyes, then signed and dated the page.

Wilson brought out the next page, there were several, and it sounded, or rather looked, like a complete and extensive job application. He answered questions about his stint in the service, prior jobs, ability with children, took several short personality tests, and then concluded with a statement that he would never break or destroy the robot unless his life was in danger, or unless it was a required and documentable step towards catching a criminal that could not otherwise be avoided.

He signed the last page and looked up. nearly three hours had passed since they had begun.

Everyone stood up. Simon seemed to blink and shake a bit as Wilson locked in his appearance for good.

“There we go. All set.”

“Flint?” The Chief asked.

“Yes?”

“In the morning then?”

“In the morning.”

Wilson perked up, “Gentlemen, the delivery trucks will arrive in the morning.”

“What for?” asked Flint.

“We’ll have to make some alterations to your apartment if you’re going to keep Simon. He has a charger we’ll need to install, among several other small appliances that keep him running. It shouldn’t be too obtrusive.” He then turned to the Chief. “Then you can have them both back for further assignments.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said the Chief. “After everything is delivered then.”

Flint nodded and looked at Simon. “You ready?”

The robot nodded back, and they all left together.

Back in the hovercar as Flint was driving, he said, “There’s an organization.”

Simon listened intently.

“And I’m going to get them. I’m going to bring them all in if I have to. One at a time. No matter what. If you’re going to be my partner, regardless of the other assignments we may get over the years, there’s one thing you have to remember.”

“Yes?” There was a nasal, electric whine to his voice.

“It’s that if something happens to your partner, you do something about it.”

“Haven’t you already caught Roman?”

“No. Not the real one. I just got this report before we left earlier.”

Flint handed the print-out over to the robot who scanned it in an instant.

“A robot?”

“Yep, just like the others. We’ve been tracking Roman down for the last ten years. They’re always robots. One day, I think we’ll find the real one, but until then, we’ll always be on the lookout.”

“Because when something happens to your partner, you do something about it.”

“You’re catching on fast.”

Flint landed the little hovercar on the roof of his building and anchored it down.

“What is Roman’s plan?”

“That, Simon, is a very good question.”

They walked down the hallways, and down a short elevator to Flint’s apartment.

“We don’t know exactly what he’s up to, but we know he has secret meetings, and that they are experimenting with robotics, usually the latest and greatest models. They always have access to the latest technology just before it’s widely available. Eventually, We’ll need to penetrate those meetings and get a bead on what they are doing.”

“And then?”

“Finding out what’s going on will do, for now, then I can make a decision on what to do next.”

“What about the Chief?

“The Chief I can handle. He’ll tell me to drop the Roman case, but I’m not. I can’t.”

“What if they program me to contradict you?”

“They can’t.”

“It’s in the contract they signed with me. From now on, in order to make sure your learning curve stays intact, and that you don’t lose any evidence in that chain, they would compromise themselves if they tried anything like that.”

“Well I’m not sure if anything you’ve said sits right with me,” said the robot. “But I can’t find anything in my programming to contradict it yet.”

“That’s a good thing.”

Flint thought for a moment. “Simon, what would it take for a robot to re-activate its catalog menu and start to alter its forms again?”

Simon pondered this, which is to say he calculated for a moment, and looked up. “He’d have to have access to the mainframe network and a host of other supplies, lots of chemicals are involved in deciding the look of a robot, as well as machines to stitch the hair in, and functions designed to show results before they are committed to.

“Can you work up a report of everything a rogue robot would need?”

“Of course, not that a rogue robot could be the cause.”

“You mean like Roman?”

“There would have to be a human behind it.”

“I don’t know.”

“Anything is possible.”

Simon blinked. His eyes became hot green for just a moment and then he relaxed.

“What was that?”

“A warning. I need a recharge.”

“Okay, how do we do that?”

“In an emergency, I can recharge almost anywhere, but it’s a terrific strain on the building, and the power resources are not properly allocated. I’ll have to wait for the morning.”

“Why?”

“The men will bring my charger with them then.”

He blinked again, this time, his eyes began to flash red.

“Almost there. Flint, I… I…”

Then the eyes went dark, and the body of the robot toppled into the middle of the floor, eyes staring and blank.

Standard-Issue Partner, Chapter 1

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 and Roberts sat, thirty stories in the sky. It was raining as the other hovercars sped around them. Roberts repositioned the vehicle, moving it closer to the edge of the high-rise building, and under a short ledge, out of the rain. Flint fiddled with the controls in front of him, and an image came in, fuzzy at first, on a screen in front of them.

“I’ve got him,” said Flint.

“Are you sure?”

Images on the screen flickered. It looked as if several people were eating dinner in an Italian restaurant.

“That’s him.” Flint waved at the screen.

“So it is.”

Roberts hooked the hovercar into the side of the building, and engaged a clamp mechanism, locking the car to the side of it. Rain poured down all around them. The night was settling in, and the only light was flickering on them from their instrument screens, and from hover cars speeding nearby.

“How is the robot doing?” asked Roberts.

“Not that bad considering. It’s got a good bead on them.”

“Not like those new ones?”

“I suppose not. They aren’t right.”

“Yeah, your partner should be human at least.”

“It’s just the way things are going these days.” Flint adjusted his monitor.

“Yeah, everybody thinks the robots are the way to go.”

“But for a partner? It just doesn’t work.”

“I know.”

“Have you seen what they can do?”

“I haven’t looked. I don’t care.”

“I guess one day we’ll all get replaced.”

“Then what will we do?”

“Sit back in luxury?”

“Not likely.”

“Why, what are you going to do?”

“Become a robot repairman. What else will there be?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s funny though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s funny. You’d think they’d be nothing like us.”

“But they are.”

“I’m not so sure about that, but they’re damn good, and almost everybody is using them for a partner these days.”

“True.”

“How can you talk to a robot though?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m talking about the little things, or maybe they aren’t so little. Your little girl for instance.”

“What about her?”

“Do you think a robot could relate? Do you think they can understand what it’s like to sit up all night while their wife is in labor, or when a child gets the first tooth? With a robot, I don’t think there can be as clear a connection. You to Be able trust your partner.”

“And to do that you have to know them.”

“And if you don’t know them how can you ever trust? I mean, could you ever put your life in the hands of something made of steel rather than flesh and blood?”

“I don’t know.”

“I guess you never know.”

“Some of the other guys don’t seem to have a problem with it.”

“I’m just not sure.”

Roberts tapped the monitor. “What’s Roman up to in there?”

“Looks like lasagna.”

“There has to be a better way to do a stakeout.”

“I dunno. He’s got to move soon.”

Roberts pushed back in his seat, laying it back. “Got to stretch.”

Flint shifted in his seat and sipped from a safety sealed coffee mug. “I hate these things.” He shook the mug, a feeble dribble of coffee came from the lip. He sipped it from the side as it trickled down.

The screen chirped to life with a crackle.

Roberts sat up and looked forward.

Flint turned the screen, “He’s on the move.”

Roberts gunned the engine and released the claw from the building, bobbing the hovercar down into the pouring rain. “Good deal, it’s about time we got off of this building. Where is he?”

“Looks like he’s heading for the south street.”

“Well, one way or another he’s going down tonight.”

“Don’t jump the gun, he’ll see us too soon.”

“Nobody’s going to see me too early.”

Roberts maneuvered the car into the rain and dived into the streets below. “You got him locked?” asked Roberts.

“Locked and ready.”

“Looks like the car’s navigation is getting a bead on him. Should have a solution in just a moment.”

“I can see him!”

“Where?”

“Just over there, on the other side of that billboard. He’s gone.” The computer beeped and a screen flashed. “We’ve got a solution.”

Roberts looked down at the tangled web of turns and twists and frowned.

“No good?” Flint tapped the controls.

“I’ve got a faster way.”

Roberts veered off to the left, taking a side tunnel between two buildings usually used for garbage pickup, and twisted through a tight passageway.

The computer piped up. “Of route, recalculating.”

Roberts slapped the navigation computer. “Useless.” He switched it off.

“Hey, we need that! It’s tracking him!” Flint switched the machine back on.

“Acquiring satellite.”

“I hate that thing.” Roberts pulled the steering yoke and leveled out the aircar. “There he is.”

Flint looked up. Ahead of them was an aircar, much bigger than theirs and in the style of a limousine. It was lumpy in appearance, smooth around the edges like a large mass of plastic bubbles.

“Target acquired.”

Roberts rolled his eyes at the computer “I think I know that. Flint, can you get a picture in there?”

“Let me try.”

Flint turned knobs on his control panel and twisted dials. A fuzzy picture of Roman came into focus. “I guess robots are useful for something. I’ve tapped into one of their photoreceptors.”

“He’s got robots in there?”

“Yeah, at least five. They seem like standard bodyguard style.”

“That should be interesting.”

Roman’s face appeared on the screen, fading in and out. For a moment his face is clear and the audio of him sharpens. “And that will be the last of them,” he said.

“What’s he planning?” asked Roberts.

“I don’t know.”

“You think he knows he’s being followed?”

“I don’t think so.” The rain beat down upon them. Roman’s limousine was nothing but a wash of color in front of them trailing red brake lights.

Lighting streaked across the sky. It flashed right in front of them. Roman pulled to the right “Whoa.” they spun around, and then straightened up.

Roberts looked around, “Where did he go?”

Flint shook his head and blinked, rubbing his eyes to return his vision. Blue patches hung before his eyes in streaks. “Dammit!”

Roberts flung out a pointing finger. “There!” he turned the aircar and dived down into the sub-streets below the city. Under levels of old physical streets and bridges, the rain lessened, only pouring in around them as the bridges and streets above them permitted. It created a kind of a stained glass effect around them distorting lights and movements.

The computer came to life tracing their flight in three dimensions as they careened through the water. Warning lights blared and alarms whistled.

“You’re too close to the wall.” Flint hung onto the dashboard.

“We’ve almost got him.”

“I am too old for this…”

“No you’re not, you’re only ninety-six.”

“What’s your point?”

“You’re not too old. Hell, I’m only a hundred and two.” Roberts turned the wheel and followed Roman’s limousine down through a circular tunnel. “I agree we’re not in our fifties anymore, but it’s not like it’s time for a mid-life crisis or anything.”

Flint ignored him. Medical technology had come a long way since he was a child, that was true, but he wasn’t sure that they were in quite that good of condition. He checked his badge and the power on his laser pistol.

Roberts flipped the ship upside down, slinging it through a series of pipes, barely missing an electrified laser gate.

“I don’t know about you Roberts, but I’m looking at seventy years on the force, and I still can’t seem to get enough together to retire.”

“You’re ready to retire?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“It’s what I thought I heard.”

“It’s just that seventy years of anything gets old after a while.”

“You mean like being partnered with me?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Maybe you want one of those new robotic partners. That way you could pop in another personality cartridge anytime you got bored with them.”

“Lett’s just drop it.”

“I think you’re just tired of me!”

“Jeff!”

Roberts stopped. It had been at least thirteen years since he’d heard his own first name, and it stopped him for a moment. He wasn’t really sure how long it had been.

“What?”

“Drop it. We’re almost on Roman. Let’s bring him in, then we can duke this out later.”

“Agreed.”

“Look, there he goes.”

Roman’s limousine plunged into a series of underground caves. Roberts followed him, keeping close to the ceiling of the cave, and inverted, so they could look down at Roman’s limousine from above.

“He’s stopping, activate the cloak.”

Flint hit a switch on his panel and the car’s hull shimmered, and then appeared as if it were a part of the cave ceiling. They clamped onto the roof of the cave and powered down the ship.

Below them, The doors of Roman’s limousine opened and out stepped five robot bodyguards. They formed a line, and Roman exited the vehicle, walked past them, and through a small door. The robots followed him, and soon the limousine took flight and went down a small corridor. All was dark, save for the dripping of water from the cave ceiling.

Roberts and Flint opened the canopy of the aircar, and seat belts in place, they did not fall to their deaths. Instead, they each reached for a small latch at their side and hooked into it, then, releasing their belts, they rode a thin strong cable to the floor a hundred feet below. Twisting like bored acrobats, they touched down on the ground like it was second nature to them. They released the lines which slid neatly back up to their ship. Flint pulled a remote control from his belt and punched a button on it causing the canopy on the ship to close. The cloaking unit still activated, it blended into the ceiling and disappeared.

Roberts checked his laser pistol’s power level and tucked it away. “Ready?”

“I always am.”

They pushed through the door and found themselves in a dank corridor. Lights flickered around them, and drips from the ceiling penetrated their clothes and slipped in through gaps at their neck and wrists.

“They can’t be much farther up now. Why do you suppose they would come all this way?”

“Not sure. It can’t be for a good reason though, and what about all those robot guards?”

“How many are there?”

“Five.”

“That seems like a lot of firepower.”

“For anything except a massacre, yes, I suppose you’re right.”

Roberts smiled. “I haven’t been on a bust this big for a while.”

“Feels good doesn’t it?”

The tunnels twisted and turned. Flint opened a small device latched into his wrist, and checked to mark the progress of the guard robots he was tracking. “They’re not far off.”

“No, they can’t be.”

“It’s got to be right up there.”

Ahead of them was a door with a frosted window. Lights danced and shimmered across it as if from a great bonfire in the distance. They could smell the smoke in the back of their throats. The air began to feel warmer.

Flint loosened his cuffs.

Roberts shook his head and adjusted a visor over his eyes. It gave him a thermal readout of the scene ahead of him.

The door was warm to the touch. It blinded Roberts’s thermal relay, and he discarded it for a moment. It was warm, but not hot, it was possible.

“You ready?”

“Let’s get in there.”

They cracked the door and saw no one except a guard robot on the inside. It noticed them, and Roberts took it down so fast it never had a chance to send a relay message.

Roberts swung up and connected with the robot’s power pack, which every cop worth a paying wage knew about. It confused the robot long enough for him to pull the power, and then carefully lay the robot on the ground.

Flint knew his part in all of this, he pried open the robot’s chest plate, and dug his hands into the wires, cutting some, and twisting others, until he pulled enough of them away to get to the central hub of sensory input. He plugged in a small round device that he pulled from an inside pocket. When it connected a small green light lit up. He was in. Within seconds the chest plate was back in place, and they were hoisting the robot back onto its feet.

“You get the memory circuits?” asked Roberts.

“Not only will it not remember us, but it’s programmed to never remember seeing or hearing us in the future.”

The robot stood up and returned to its post, looking right past them. The two old men, still appearing roughly in their forties despite their real age looked over a short ledge behind the robot, with the robot’s eyes feeding into their visors.

Below them, a large bonfire lit the room. Around it stood a variety of crooks and thugs. Most of them looked like ordinary folks, and others looked like more high-profile bounty hunters and some of them looked like they were made of money and bad intentions drove their daily use of it. Roman stood at the head of the group, pacing in front of them.

Roman cleared his throat. “It seems gentlemen that this town is not long from ours. It seems to me that given just the right leverage and use of our tools and talents that we could run this town to the betterment of us all. We are useful, talented, devious people in desperate need of making a living aren’t we?”

The thugs and bounty hunters watched him with their arms folded. Some nodded. Flint watched them in his visor. It looked like they were still deciding whether or not to take the bait or turn on Roman. Roman continued to pace.

“Are there any questions?” Roman asked.

One of the thugs raised his hand.

“Yes?”

“Well, What about the robot cops?”

“What about them?”

“They are getting harder and harder to avoid.”

“The robotic cops are of no concern. They are no more than bodyguard partners for the few remaining cops that they have left to work the streets for real. They are not a threat. If anything we should thank them for spreading the local police departments as thin as they have done. Anyone else?”

“What about our bodyguard robots?”

“They are as useful as they can be, but remember that a human mind is always more devious and devilish than the robots can ever be. It’s why they are such a bad idea in the first place. The robots can only think a certain way. They don’t learn, it’s hard to program them, and the efforts to make them easy to talk to have failed miserably. There’s nothing for it. Besides, they are easy to control.”

One of the Bounty hunters spoke up. “What do you mean?”

“Here, watch,” said Roman. He pulled a smartphone from his pocket flicked his fingers across the screen, and from behind a concealed door next to him stepped an R-COP 5000. It was a slender beast, armed to the teeth with hidden weapons. Roman snapped his fingers and the robot came to attention. It stood there, a vague assemblage of parts that represented a cross between a fiberglass crash test dummy, a fashion mannequin and a work of art blown in glass. “I call him Manny.”

Roman snapped his fingers again. “Manny, show us what you’ve got.”

The Robot seemed to smile, gesturing its head in an inclination to Roman. It held up its left and right arms, and with a twitch of its elbows, two pistols appeared in its hands from hidden compartments. He showered the ceiling in bullets, then as quick as thinking he flicked his arms and the guns were gone and replaced with two flat steel blades. He sliced through the air and twirled around stopping to pause menacingly in front of one of the thugs in the front row.

“You see,” Roman gestured toward the robot. I can even make them harm themselves. He snapped his fingers again, and pressing a button on his phone, the robot looked at him with the sense of disdain, and then calmly stepped into the fire.

Next to them, standing near where Roberts and Flint were hunched down, the guard robot they had commandeered popped, and fell over, crumbling to the ground. Everyone in the hall looked up at the disturbance.

At their feet, the robot seemed to crackle with electricity. “They’ve rigged it. I should have known.” Flint looked at the smoking robot. It jerked and then really exploded sending shrapnel in every direction. Flint and Roberts ducked and the shower of parts and sparks flew over them.

Down in the hall, Roman scowled. “Cops.” He flipped a switch on his phone, and the R-COP 5000 jumped from the bonfire, landing on the ledge overlooking where Roberts and Flint had been just a moment before.

The door behind Flint and Roberts burst open, and the R-COP 5000 stormed through it.

Flint breathed heavily as he ran. “That’s the latest model, I think.”

“I think it is too.” Roberts pulled a compact device from his belt.

“If they can already control them…”

“We might be in a lot of trouble.” Roberts activated a small device, a bomb, and threw it behind him as they ran. It clicked onto the robot’s chest and stuck there, magnetized.

“Hell, we might all be in a lot of trouble.”

The robot stopped in the hall, and pulled the device from its chest and examined it about the time that a small blinking green light on its surface turned red and it exploded, taking most of the robot with it. For just a few moments the two of them were alone in the hall with the R-COP’s legs and pelvis, which took a second or two longer to fall to the ground, running without a torso for a few additional moments. A second later the eyes in the robot’s disembodied head went out.

A second after that Roman, leading a small army of thugs were right behind them.

Roberts and Flint stepped into an old elevator shaft, and pulled cords from their belts and pointed them up the tunnel, shooting razor cords into the darkness. They struck rock, grabbed on and the two of them shot up into the darkness, leaving the thugs behind them.

They discarded the cords and ran down the tunnel. They could both hear their pursuers behind them and still gaining, though hindered by the old elevator shaft.

They ducked around behind a series of overturned crates. The metal grinding of the bodyguard robot’s legs passed them by, followed by Roman, who slowed to a walk in the wake of them, and stood calmly as they continued on up through the underground passageways into the night.

Roman stood there. When he turned around to make his way back down to the meeting area, he saw them. Both Flint and Roberts stood, guns raised, and poised to strike. Roman walked up to them and stood there, his hands outstretched.

Flint bound his hands while Roberts searched him, pulling the robot controller from his pocket.

“What’s this?”

“It not illegal to own.”

“We’ll see about that Roman.” Flint pushed Roman into the wall and roughed him up, punching him in the stomach.

Roman remained very calm after expelling a forced cough from the impact. “You two don’t have a chance.”

Flint ignored him and pushed Roman forward. “Officer Roberts?”

“Shall I read him his rights?”

“You know I rather think not.”

Flint pushed Roman forward, to the edge of an elevator shaft.

“What are you doing?” Roman asked.

“Making something clear,” said Flint.

“Oh, I think everything is quite clear.”

“And how’s that Roman?”

“You are going to threaten my life.”

“Yes.”

“And then you are going to try and force me to divulge information.”

“Without?”

“Without any regard for my personal safety or the fact that I’m going to kill both of you before you have the chance to do anything of the kind.”

“You are a dog.”

“And you are a Cop. Sorry, that’s the worst that I can come up with at the moment.”

“Okay smart-ass…”

Flint plunged Roman toward the elevator shaft, keeping hold of his neck, and jerked him back. Roman yelled, but it was more out of surprise than anything else. He began to laugh. In the distance, there was a silent grinding buzzing in their ears.

Flint shook Roman, who stopped laughing and looked him right in the face. “You think I don’t know you’ve been following me for a month and a half?”

Flint let him go. It wasn’t voluntary.

“Yes, it’s true.” Roman brushed off his coat and readjusted himself. “You and your partner here are going to have to get with the rest of the century. The robots are the way of the future. Everything revolves around them these days. It’s inevitable. You’ll all be replaced, and I’ll own this town!”

“Is that what you think?”

“Isn’t it obvious? The constant inclusion of robotic technology, the way they do everything for you now, the way they clean your cars, take care of your food, shine your shoes, take your dogs out for a walk. Now with ninety percent of the police force dependent on them, trusting robotic partners who can be hacked by satellite at a moment’s notice and turn on you in an instant doesn’t work!”

Roberts stepped up and slapped Roman hard. Roman stepped back and nearly fell down the elevator shaft.

“Now that wasn’t any good at all.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“This.”

Blaster fire rang out behind them. Flint ducked for cover, but Roberts wasn’t so lucky. The shots were all aimed for him in the first place, presumably, they would target Flint in a moment and he had to act fast. Robert’s body flailed, the very gunfire itself holding him up and in place until he came to rest on the ground a mile below the surface world where the torrents of rain had been reduced to the mildest trickle.

Four of the bodyguard robots had returned, realizing that their owner and operator was no longer with them.

Flint rolled back and tossed an electrified bomb into their midst. Its fuse was short. Flint ducked for cover and the bomb exploded sending electronic shrapnel in all directions. The robots shorted out and fell to the ground. It wasn’t a terribly good solution, best for buying some time at least though. He popped up; gun trained on Roman, and cocked the firing mechanism. “I think a short walk Roman,” he said.

Roman complied, but with an expression of boredom firmly locked on his face.

Flint opened a panel on his uniform and allowed three small floating robots to hover about the scene taking pictures and photographs of the crime scene. One of them dived down and permanently dismantled the robots, and another took finger, skin, blood and hair samples from everyone in the vicinity.

Flint took Roman and pushed him forward. “Let’s go. I’m going to have to add murder to your current list then.” within moments another series of robots were on the scene to clean up. They took away the dismantled robot bodies and the remains of officer Roberts. Flint stood by and watched as they took away his partner. He jabbed Roman in the back as they took him away, and wondered vaguely if this meant the end of his career or if he was going to be saddled with one of the new robotic partners like Roman was talking about.

He pushed Roman forward and walked back to the aircar. He pressed his remote control. The ship’s cloaking device cleared and the ship lowered to pick them up.

Flint shoved Roman into the back, a compartment saved for the scum of the Earth, and took off.

“It was bound to happen,” said Roman.

“Shut up.”

“I mean, as dependent as you are these days on robotic technology…”

Flint twitched and bit his lip. “I’ll make you pay for this.”

“Pay… whatever for…”

Flint punched the Plexiglas that separated them.

Roman jumped back from the impact, but then laughed from the release of tension.

“You haven’t got a clue.”

Flint arrived at the funeral late. The wind was blowing. All of their carefully combed and color-treated hair of those there looked like wild and wooly messes atop all of their heads.

Flint stood on a small rise not too far from what was left of the cemetery. Built-in an upward spiral toward the real sky, here the dearly departed lived in concrete graves surrounded by Astroturf and circular, spiraling ceilings of blue and daylight bulbs. The wind was real as they were close to the cemetery’s apex.

A holy man, dressed in black, finished some words over the body, but they never penetrated Flint’s heart. They were lost in the wind, less than real to him. What was real was the realization that he was alone. For the first time in forty years, he was alone. Had he missed having a family? In his nineties, he was still virile, and strong. Medicine was still on an upward spiral, and the human life span hadn’t been properly measured in some time. He laughed but it was more out of nervousness.

What was the solution? What would happen when he returned to the force? What about the extra desk that was now in his office? Once his partner’s, would it become dusty, left there like the remains of a legend like in those old movies after a detective loses his partner? Would he be able to survive this at all? It had been a long time since he had been saddled with the old man. Would they just downsize him? What about robots? The new robot partners, that was definitely a thought. Certainly, they wouldn’t saddle him with one of those. Hell, one was practically responsible for what happened.

He watched. Holy words had been finished while he was thinking, and people were beginning to break up. Dianne brushed past him, Roberts’s wife, she was beautiful, but he did not speak.

“Flint,” she said.

“He’s gone for good, isn’t he?”

“Yep.”

There was kindness in her eyes, and perhaps a string of bitterness as well as sorrow, but something seemed to soften it for Flint as he stood there in front of her.

She took him in her arms and hugged him.

“I’ll get these guys.”

“You already have.”

He looked into her eyes.

“Didn’t you hear? Roman’s dead.”

“When?”

“It was last night. The shower room. We’ll never have to worry about him again.”

Flint breathed. It was like he’d been holding it for about an hour straight. The color seemed to come back into his face.

“What I’m worried about, is you,” she said.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will. Still, sometimes it pays to be thoughtful. Do you know what you’ll do?”

“I want to stay with the force. It’s all I really have.”

“Don’t forget you have me.”

She kissed his cheek and took her to leave.

Chief Parkers were next in line. A gruff man with flat hair, a flatter nose, and the flattest gray eyes known to man, he towered above Flint, who was starting to tremble.

“It’s all too real, Chief.”

“I know son, It really is.” He gestured around them. “All this, the loss of a partner, it’s the scariest thing a cop can face in this day and age. Of course, pretty soon there won’t be any more partners to lose.”

“You mean human partners.”

“Of course. That’s what I mean.”

“How many are left?”

“A dozen or so, worldwide.”

“Just that many?”

“Yes. It’s an interesting phenomenon. I still remember my first partner. But that’s all in the past now.”

“In the past.” Flint thought about it for a moment. In the past… What was the future? What would it hold?

“Naturally you’ve been wondering, I suppose, how it was all going to go down after the dust settled.”

Flint couldn’t believe he was getting a job evaluation at his partner’s funeral. He clenched his fists and bit his lip.

The Chief persisted, “It just seems to me that you are too valuable to the force to let go at this time, of course, a retirement is an option, and no one would think any the less of you. You’ve had a long career.”

“If I stay?”

“First thing you’ll need is a new partner, then we can start getting you an assignment or two, get you back in the saddle, so-to-speak.”

“About the partner… I…”

“No need to worry yourself, you’ll have the best we can give you, though getting used to having a robot can be an interesting fiasco if you’re not up to it.

“What if I refuse the partner, want to go it alone?”

“No chance. Our robots have gotten our cops out of so many scrapes, it’s just not advisable. Besides they are basically walking computers at any rate. You’re used to those.”

“Yes, but…”

“Not another word. If I have to instruct you to treat this as an order, then I’ll do so. You really have no idea what these guys are like. Pretty soon you’ll wonder how you got along without one.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Good, we’ll see you bright and early at the proving grounds. It’s going to take some time to get used to this and believe me, we understand.”

“I’ll be there.”