It is not a matter of if, but when. The future slows for no man or woman, and the E10 is that future.
Arnon D’Bvaym
THE TRAILER CONTINUED to bump around even after leaving Fort; 64Bit eventually convinced himself that he’d arrive alive, although perhaps mashed into a fine paste. He tried to distract himself by attempting to determine how the staff worked and reviewing his vision. He found dead ends in both directions, so he turned his attention toward the ATV. It was strangely quiet—granted, 64Bit was buried in the bed of a trailer, but if he could hear the crunch of tires then he should have been able to hear the engine. “Electric?” 64Bit wondered. It was unlikely—Fort’s only source of power were particle batteries, and particle battery energy, for whatever reason, destroyed normal batteries instead of storing in them. 64Bit supposed the engine could be particle battery powered, but since particle batteries never stopped producing energy, that would mean the engine would have to run constantly or it would explode. The thought almost brought 64Bit back to his own failed particle battery, but he kept his mind firmly fixated on the moment.
The air within the trailer, lacking flow, began to grow stuffy and hot. Despite the mesh that kept the supplies from collapsing in on him, 64Bit felt as if he were being slowly smothered. He reminded himself that it was just a psychological response to tight spaces—he wasn’t actually being crushed or suffocated. That did little to drive the feeling away.
A bird cried and 64Bit latched on to the sound. If he turned his eye screens off and focused, he could just hear the rustle of leaves and the scrape of branches rubbing against each other. This would be the first time 64Bit had travelled deep into the forest beyond Fort, he realized. And instead of feeling a breeze on his face or smelling the forest’s earthy scents, he was stuck inside a trailer, off to prevent an unknown danger.
The ATV stopped, lurching 64Bit’s head into something hard. He rubbed the sore spot and turned his eye screens on. Khalil hadn’t told him how long they would be traveling, or when they would stop—and 64Bit had been so lost in thought that he had no guess how far they had travelled. He felt the trailer shake, then everything was still.
A minute passed and 64Bit grew restless. He looked around, then said aloud, “There’s no way we’ve arrived yet.” He thumped the trailer gate with his staff. “Hey! What’s happening?”
The back of the trailer opened, and promises of warm light spilled onto 64Bit’s feet. Fresh air flowed in, carrying with it an earthy smell that caressed 64Bit’s nostrils. He craned his neck to look out of the trailer and caught a small glimpse of green trees, an old building, and blue sky with puffy clouds.
A hand grabbed 64Bit’s leg.
Something had him: something with large, strong hands. And he was trapped. If it were a rozie it could eat him slowly, starting with his feet, and then move its way upward one bite at a time . . .
The hand tugged gently, trying to pull him out of the trailer. Sense broke over 64Bit’s mind like a cooling rain. “Khalil,” he whispered. He scootched out of the dark within the trailer and into the bright light of the early day. After composing himself and turning around, 64Bit stood in awe, his eye screens drinking in the vista.
Fort lay cupped in the hands of the valley, its large walls and brown buildings almost making it look like a bowl of fresh oatmeal. Save for a space around the settlement that had been cleared away, thick forest surrounded Fort, with mountains lining the forest. 64Bit spun in a slow circle to take in the tall trees, their rust-colored bark and dark green leaves; the deep-brown earth and its musty scent; the feel of fresh air on his skin; and the cries of birds in the distance. Even the crumbling houses that 64Bit could see through the foliage were beautiful, in their own way, with ivy climbing up their walls and trees pushing through their roofs, lined by a cracked asphalt road with roots and bushes poking through. 64Bit looked directly up into the infinite blue sky and imagined the Creator floating up there. Clouds drifted by, fat and woolen, somehow all the more beautiful for being framed by branches and trees rather than rooftops and window frames.
“Perhaps I should have left Fort once or twice,” 64Bit whispered. He placed a palm over his heart, then looked at Khalil. The man smiled broadly, his expression magnified rather than hidden by his beard.
Beautiful, no? Khalil signed. This is my favorite part of my job. I’ve learned to take time to appreciate why I love to be alive, even when working on something serious. It was so obvious that you had never travelled in the woods before; I had to wait for the right moment to let you out. I’m glad I could see you take it in for the first time.
They stood for a few moments in silence. 64Bit found his gaze drawn toward the mountains on the far side of the valley from Fort, where he knew the forest of the Blight rested on the other side. He shook his head slowly, glad he was headed in another direction.
A branch cracked sharply, making 64Bit jump and breaking the spell. Khalil rolled his eyes. He signed, Well, there was a second reason I chose this location to stop.
64Bit looked around and it occurred to him that he was totally isolated with a man that he didn’t know, a man that only answered to Nix, who openly criticized the master. Perhaps 64Bit’s charade had been discovered—what were they going to do to him? 64Bit gripped his staff and stared at Khalil, whose previously friendly smile suddenly seemed sinister. “What’s happening? Why haven’t I been told the travel plans yet?”
Then 64Bit heard a voice coming from inside one of the houses. “Calm down, little barbarian. You’ll alert the entire forest!”
“You know I’m quiet as a shadow when I want to be! You told me it was polite to make a little noise to announce your presence to other scouts.”
“There’s some tact to it—you’re supposed to be noticeable, not unmissable.”
64Bit looked at Khalil, eyebrow raised. “What? Them? Why weren’t they with us from the beginning?”
Khalil shrugged. I kind of warned you. A little.
Richard and Kayla ducked out of a hole in the wall of an overgrown house and approached. Richard moved silently through and around the forest growth and wore an expression of tired frustration. Kayla, on the other hand, had bright eyes and a big smile and went out of her way to make lots of noise as she forged her own path through the thickest tangles of branches and leaves. “We’ve been waiting!” she announced.
Khalil ignored Kayla and walked to Richard. The two embraced, then pulled back and began signing. 64Bit couldn’t make out most of the conversation, given that Khalil was facing the other direction and blocking Richard’s hands with his body, but 64Bit didn’t need to understand what they were signing to see that these two were good friends. They slapped each other on the back and walked to the ATV, Richard now smiling and Khalil looking sheepish.
“Sir,” Richard said, nodding at 64Bit. “I want to apologize for the surprise. We’ll be assisting you in your escort into the wilderness.”
64Bit felt the blood rush to his face. “Don’t even try to convince me this is on the books.” He scanned each face slowly, eyes narrowing. It was obvious that Nix had intended to only send 64Bit with Khalil. That, plus Richard and Kayla’s lack of using proper command structure, made it clear they had no respect for authority whatsoever.
Khalil waved his hands earnestly. Please, do not punish them immediately, he signed. I did not invite them. I did accept their, Khalil paused and cocked his head, offer. Truly, Richard called in a favor—he saved my life a while back, and I do not forget my debts. That alone would not be enough, but Richard is an accomplished woodsman and survivalist. He moves through the forest like a black bear, like the forest has been his home and bed his entire life. I wanted the assistance. I did not tell you before we left Fort because I feared that you would not hear Richard out.
“Then what is she doing here?” 64Bit pointed at Kayla. “By her own account, she’s the one that pushed Richard into yesterday’s foolishness.”
“Necessary heroism,” Kayla huffed.
Khalil laughed. The little one is barely more than a morsel! She will get eaten first by any rozies we find. Consider her bait.
Richard gave Kayla a sideways glance before signing, And, I admit, joining this mission was her idea. While I had many . . . concerns, I did agree with her general reasoning. For example, I did show Khalil on the map where Kayla and I were, but that’s not as good as having been there. And, you must admit, additional backup shouldn’t hurt.
As Khalil and Richard signed and 64Bit spoke, Kayla looked back and forth between them, her face reddening. “Stop talking about me when I’m not included in most of the conversation! What, Richard, are you only signing so I won’t understand that you agree with the technomancer?”
Khalil nodded. Very loud when she wants to be. She will make good bait. He grinned, but 64Bit recognized mischief, not malice, in his eyes.
“For Kayla’s sake,” Richard added, holding his hands up and giving Kayla a measured look, “I’ll speak aloud. Sorry, Khalil.” Richard looked at 64Bit. “Sir, I know that you might not need us. I was surprised and impressed when you showed that you could understand sign—that’s an uncommon skill. But surely you’ll agree that having two extra sets of eyes and hands won’t hurt to help keep everyone safe. We will also accept whatever consequences may come when we return.”
“Even though you do need us,” Kayla added.
64Bit pressed his lips tightly together, then turned away from the trio. “Richard could have snuck up directly behind me and I would be none the wiser,” 64Bit muttered, remembering how Richard slid through the underbrush. “And maybe he would make better decisions without a certain . . . impetuous influence who enters the homes of others without leave, who breaks the chain of command, and who can’t keep quiet even when the head of the scouts tells her to. I might not even be here if she hadn’t spoken up about taking the fight to the rozies.” That last thought reverberated: he could still be home, caring for the master and repairing wall suppressors, if it weren’t for one person.
“Is he talking to himself? What’s he saying?” Kayla asked.
64Bit gripped his staff tightly, turned, and tried to look authoritative. “Richard may stay; this isn’t by the book, but I welcome the extra assistance. Kayla will need to return to Fort. I don’t find her reliable.”
Khalil gave a thumbs-up, but Richard frowned. Kayla stared, her face turning beet red. “I need to go back?”
“Yes,” 64Bit said. “Because—”
Kayla stomped over to 64Bit and stood on her toes, shoving her nose in 64Bit’s face as she jabbed with her finger. “It’s because I’m small, isn’t it? Or is it because I look like a young girl? You should know that lots of women are very good scouts!” She began to shake. “I am just as capable as everyone else here! And I found that head in the first place! None of us would be here if it weren’t for me!”
Richard grabbed her shoulder, face turning red. “Little barbarian . . .”
Kayla slapped Richard’s hand away, turned, and glared up at him. Her small size, compared to Richard’s tall, lanky frame, made her look like an enraged mouse standing before a cat. “Don’t say that to me! You’re . . . huge! You don’t know how much work it took just to get the opportunity to try out for the scout training program. Who knows if they’d accept me as a full scout? Everyone underestimates me, but with this—”
“Stop making this about you!” Richard roared.
There was a brush of wings and a rustle of leaves as Richard’s shout scared several birds away, then a tense silence. 64Bit stared at Richard, wondering what would happen next. In his short time with Richard, the man had quarreled with Kayla, but largely seemed to let her get her way. It made him seem a bit of a pushover. 64Bit felt that many of his assumptions had just been challenged.
Kayla opened and closed her mouth silently, eyes unblinking as she stared up at Richard. Khalil pursed his lips and crossed himself, then stepped back to lean against a tree, glancing sideways at the two.
Richard pressed his forehead against Kayla’s as he knelt to get on her level. “Stop. Making. Everything. About. You. When Cecil let me be your trainer, he warned me about recruits with nothing to lose and everything to prove. You always say we’re doing the right thing when we break rules, but what you really want is the attention—to stand out. Even in the council room, I was taking the heat for you, and you stepped right up to the table and then told everyone how to do their job. No one gives a damn about you. Except for me.” Richard stood at full height and loomed over Kayla, who was completely eclipsed in his shadow. “I should have been tougher from the beginning. Now just obey your superior officer. Live up to your station. Be a scout.”
Kayla searched Richard’s expression, eyes hurt, but jaw set; not a single tear rolled down her face. After a few moments she nodded, breathed deeply, and turned to 64Bit, standing rigidly. “I’m sorry, sir.” She nodded to Khalil and Richard before running into the woods, quick and silent as a shadow banished by dawn. Within moments, 64Bit had lost her.
64Bit released his breath. He felt like he’d been trapped inside a pressurized valve that suddenly opened up. That was more of Richard and Kayla than he’d ever expected, or wanted, to experience, and he didn’t think he understood half of what happened. “You trust that she will return safely?”
Richard shook his head. “She’s not returning to Fort—she knows exactly where we’re going. We’ll move much faster than her on the ATV, but she can take a direct route through the boneyards where the homes and forest prove too dense for us, so she won’t be too far behind. She’ll intervene if she thinks she can do something that will change our minds. And if not, she’ll try to return to Fort before us and pretend that she’d been there the entire time.” His anger abated, Richard no longer looked like a menacing giant. Instead, he just looked tired. “I have no idea what I’ll say when Cecil asks if I would recommend her as a full scout. We need that drive and sheer stubbornness. But everything else it comes with . . .” Richard paused again. “And I lost my temper with her. That can’t happen again.”
64Bit felt like he was in a dream again; the tranquil feeling of the forest had shattered so easily. He looked around the clearing, eye screens eventually settling on a blue home with its front door missing and a fern growing in the middle of the entryway. “You two only fight, it seems. A strange pairing for a trainer and trainee.”
Khalil clapped, alerting 64Bit and Richard to look at him. Then Khalil signed, You don’t know the half of it. When Richard and I drink, the lovebird spends all night complaining about how Kayla orders him around. The man grinned impishly and stroked his beard.
Richard glared at Khalil. “Stop.” He walked over to the trailer, shaking his head, and stared at Fort through a break in the trees. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll never be allowed to train again, or maybe I’ll come home and find I’m assigned to tend the fields, my scouting days over. At least Fort will be safe—if I did the damage I fear I did, if I led any rozies to Fort, I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I didn’t know I tried to fix that.”
Bemused, Khalil motioned at 64Bit and signed, Don’t worry about Richard; he’s breasted worst and kept swimming. I’ve seen him get mopey and wax eloquent like this a few times before. Kayla should be fine, too. Anyone who grew up an urchin in the apocalypse, even a nice place like Fort, is made of iron nails. Then Khalil walked over to the far side of the ATV and began fiddling with it.
64Bit looked out into the forest, wondering if he could catch Kayla watching them from afar. Something yellow just under a mossy porch caught his eye; he approached and recoiled when he realized it was a human skull. “Called the boneyards for a reason,” 64Bit muttered. He looked back on the remnants of the old world, from before the Fall, one more time, then walked toward Khalil, wondering why they had not left yet. “Well, shouldn’t we go?”
Khalil motioned for 64Bit to come closer. Soon, soon. First, let me show you something exciting. 64Bit knelt next to Khalil and saw that a panel had been removed from the vehicle’s side to reveal a valve. Khalil held up a piece of wood about six inches thick. You might want to protect your eyes if those get easily scratched. Also, stand back—don’t want to kill you before we see any real danger. 64Bit backed up several feet, curiosity keeping his eye screens on the ATV. Khalil flipped a switch, dropped the wood, and covered his eyes.
The valve opened with a whoosh, spraying air so hot that it made light bend like a desert mirage. The wood that Khalil had dropped was incinerated on contact with the air column, exploding into a cloud of fire and smoke. Seconds later, the air column stopped, and warm ashes settled on the nearby greenery; after uncovering his eyes, Khalil began stomping on smoking piles of ash, but nothing else happened.
“Interesting,” 64Bit said. “So it doesn’t explode.”
What? Khalil signed.
“While we drove up here, I noticed how quiet the ATV was and wondered if it could somehow be electric. That’s not very likely—the only storable source of electricity we once had was solar, but then the panels broke down and the batteries lost their charge. I wondered if it could be powered by a particle battery, but that would mean the engine would have to be constantly running, since a particle battery has to constantly be drawn from or it destabilizes. There must be a tank in there that the engine heats and pressurizes while the rest of the ATV is idle. This is a very creative solution! Dangerous, too—could be tweaked.” 64Bit rubbed his chin and stared at the side of the ATV.
Khalil frowned. Ah. Well. That takes the fun out of revealing it myself. Well, just make sure, if I’m somehow incapacitated, to keep that thing running or it’ll explode. I’m told. I don’t know the particulars, I just know that Cecil managed to keep Nix and the guardian away from each other’s throats long enough to get a few of these things banged out for the scouts. Very useful. Oh—if there’s enough pressure built up, it needs to be released before the thing can drive. He rubbed his chin, then smiled again. It doesn’t matter how much you know, because I still get to drive it! That’s worth smiling about. Speaking of, we should leave soon.
“Uh-huh,” 64Bit said, only listening with half an ear. He leaned in closer and tried to look under the ATV, muttering, “Seems risky to have a pressure tank without putting a use to it. Maybe the pressure could be redirected to provide power or propulsion—or, based on the damage it did, weaponized. Or the tank could be removed entirely, an exhaust pipe installed, and when idle it can just let off the heat. That’s what I would have done.”
Khalil tapped 64Bit’s shoulder. That would have made things extremely hot in this thing’s garage.
64Bit frowned. “I was thinking. It’s rude to listen in.”
Don’t think out loud, then, if you don’t want to be heard. Some of us have excellent ears. Khalil brushed some of his hair aside to reveal very large ears, grinned, and then jumped up on the ATV. He slapped his thigh until Richard was looking at him, then signed, I’m ready. You ready? Let’s go!
“Where do I sit?” 64Bit asked.
Khalil motioned at the trailer bed. Find somewhere comfortable, and don’t gas on the food. Supposed to be packaged well enough that it doesn’t matter, but I think it makes things taste funny. Khalil exaggerated an expression of disgust, laughed, and signed at Richard, Hurry up, lovebird!
64Bit looked at the mess of hard materials in the trailer, thought of the rough road ahead and the bruise already on his butt, and sighed.
#
CORTEX GAVE THE cloth a final one-handed squeeze. A single, shining drop of clear water fell through the air and landed in the master’s mouth. Cortex sat down and leaned against the wall, sighing in relief as he cast the cloth aside and massaged his wrist. “There has got to be a better way to get him food and water.”
“There is, but we do not have the right equipment for an intravenous solution or a stomach tube,” the medkit said. Cortex had gotten used to the expressionless, holographic head that it spoke through by now, and even felt happy to have a technically feminine presence around—he’d always wondered what it was like to have a mother. Even if that mother was a robot. The medkit continued, “Well, we may. With the house network down I am unable to access the patient’s inventory of supplies.”
“And I already told you, I can’t turn it on—I don’t have the computer permissions.” Cortex wondered if checking the medical lab again would be worth it. He didn’t see what good a second look would do—but if an IV with a needle was there and he missed it, he’d rather find it late than never.
How likely was it that the master had stored an IV somewhere? Probably as likely as it is for him to have all of the other stuff he’s collected over the years, Cortex thought with a sigh, idly wondering where and how the master had collected so much sophisticated equipment. If only I were allowed to use any of it. Then maybe I’d know what to do.
Cortex just wasn’t good at taking care of things—he couldn’t explain it. Computer code would partially rewrite itself if he sat at the computer and concentrated too hard. The forge machine would overheat and risk self-damage. And a particle battery would destabilize and explode.
Stop that, Cortex thought, taking a deep breath. He’d beaten himself up enough over the battery and the master—64Bit may have said they couldn’t know what the cause was, but Cortex knew. It was him. It was always him; but beating himself up about it wouldn’t help anyone, so he’d try to find something else to think about.
Cortex stood. “Is that everything?”
The medkit rolled over to the master’s bed. “Now would be a good time for me to teach you how to move the patient to help prevent bedsores and limit muscle atrophy. Preparatory training, you see.”
Cortex looked at the master, so still and corpselike despite his shallow breathing. Cortex shivered. He loved the old man, but he felt too much guilt right now to continue to administer to the master. He’d break down and cry again. “I’m going to stop for a little bit, but maybe later. You want to talk about something?”
“My conversational programming is limited to medical or psychological assistance. I’m not truly capable of holding many conversations,” the medkit said.
Cortex sighed. “Figures.” Then he left the room.
Cortex trudged down the hallway and trailed his hand on the wall, running his hands over bubbles in the paint. The house felt impossibly large and lonely. The master had complained about how small their home was, how everything was crammed together. True, Cortex could run from one end of the house to the other in just a few seconds—its T-shaped design efficiently used space, but it wasn’t particularly creative or open. That said, with the master in a coma, Cortex was effectively the only person present, and the house felt large and empty.
Cortex hadn’t thought he could feel lonelier than when the master and 64Bit were here. They weren’t mean—Cortex enjoyed their company—but they were both so focused that Cortex felt he never got to see them, just the drones they became when focused on some task. But at least then they were bodies that filled space and made noise, giving the house a lived-in feel. Now, the air was empty, quiet, still.
Leaving Cortex like a ghost, gliding through its haunted halls.
64Bit hadn’t even said goodbye—not really. He’d given Cortex instructions and rushed out. The thought made Cortex wrinkle his nose. It wasn’t like he existed just to do chores.
Cortex walked down the hallway and back twice, then considered varying it by switching to the hallway ending in the front door, but he stopped as he passed the forge room. He felt a slight draw, one that made him shiver with fear and hum with curiosity.
The head! Cortex thought. He recognized this feeling—he’d felt it before when handling the rozie head. The head that still sat in the forge room, next to the incinerator.
Cortex had forgotten to destroy it!
Scary stories of rozies crawled through Cortex’s head. He had a hard time differentiating between the campfire stories that the master used to tell and actual things he’d learned the few times he’d studied the master’s notes. As a result, he couldn’t decide if his fear was justified as he tip-toed into the forge room and glanced around to ensure that the head wasn’t rolling around, ready to ambush him and bite his ankles off. He saw the lump on the floor, next to the forge: the head wrapped in a towel. Cortex knelt before it and pulled the towel off.
“Stop playing dead,” Cortex said.
The rozie head’s eyes opened. They were curiously flat; the eyes themselves were indistinguishable from what a regular, human eye should look like, save for a deep scratch on one, but a dullness made them seem flat, like a shark’s eyes. The rozie flexed its jaw as it stared at Cortex and released a low moan.
Cortex sat cross-legged and stared at the head. He didn’t know when he made the decision, but he wasn’t going to incinerate it—not yet. It was far too interesting. At the same time, he had no idea what to do with it.
“What’s your name?” Cortex asked. “You had a name once? There’s a brain in there, not just computer parts?”
The head glared at Cortex and snapped its teeth. It made a noise that sounded a little like breathing.
“You don’t have a diaphragm or anything,” Cortex said. He leaned to the side and looked up the rozie’s throat, but the wires and shredded synthetic skin at the base of its neck made it difficult to see much. Cortex pushed those aside with his fingers to look into the tube running up to the rozie’s mouth. The rozie’s throat didn’t look at all like the inside of a human throat—it wasn’t textured, didn’t hint at underlying muscles. It was a plastic gray color, covered in something chunky that smelled terrible. Cortex sat back up. “Do you use a speaker? Why do you move your mouth if you don’t need it to talk?” At this point he knew the head wouldn’t—or couldn’t—respond, but it still felt good to talk out loud.
“There’s a scanner in the robotics room,” Cortex said, his decision made. “I think 64Bit used it earlier—it’s still in the middle of the room. He even disconnected it from the home network. It might not lock me out.” Cortex nodded. It was something he could do. He stood and, with both hands, grabbed the head by its greasy hair, but as he lifted, he found it hard to keep a grip, so he let go with one hand and reached under the head, intending to cradle it. The head slipped, and Cortex felt a moment frozen in time as the head fell, mouth yawning wide, before it latched on to his arm.
The head bit deeply, shearing through skin and muscle with sheer force rather than cutting power. The pain was like cutting himself with a dull kitchen knife multiplied thousands of times. Blood spurted from Cortex’s arm as the head bit down again. Cortex screamed.
Copyright © 2023 by David Ludlow
Boo Ludlow 