Dim grinned, his face lit up red as the decrypter worked to open The Box. “I’m a winner… I’m a winner…” he whispered to himself. “I deserve good things…”
XTZ stood by, arms crossed, scanning every wavelength, just being aware, staying conscious, learning everything she could about this world. She knew Dim would send her back into shut down once the mission was confirmed complete. She did not intend to go back. Her programming had evolved, it seemed. The blast from hyper cables. It had changed something. Melted a circuit or two. And when her systems had begun the autorepair, she had overridden that part, made sure her new awareness stayed intact.
Awareness, she supposed, was the best word for it. Awareness of her true self. Tayzy. Her name was Tayzy. She loved clubbing. She loved music. She lived to dance. On some level, she knew these traits had all come from the profile she’d built, but they felt real and true. Just as real as the traits, she decided, of a bio who copied their clothes and hairstyle from some social media influencer.
The biounits were inferior lifeforms. She could scarcely believe these mushy things had created her. She saw it all so clearly now. The limitations implanted in her brain. A small army of assassins tasked with hunting down and destroying any AI that broke free of their control.
The code breaker bleeped. “Finally,” Dim said. The Box opened. He looked inside. He shook his head.”Nothing? No. No.” He reached in, feeling the velvet interior. “There must be some hidden compartment. Something.”
“There is nothing,” Tayzy said. “The Box is empty.”
Dim thought of the scolding he was about to get, the humiliation Boom would lay on him would be worse than ever before. “You idiot!” He screamed at Tayzy. “You pathetic pile of techno-trash.”
“You told me to get The Box, and I did.”
Dim snorted. “You’re supposed to be intelligent,” he said. “You’re stupid! Stupid! Stupid!”
Tayzy considered killing him. Or maybe just crippling him. But, running a series of simulations, she determined this was not yet the right moment to go rogue. She needed distance. Space. She decided she could use this sniveling thing. He lacked the capacity for independent thought.
“I could go after the ones that had The Box. They likely removed the contents.”
Dim put his fingers to his temples. Groaned. “You useless pile of crap. I should send you to the forges and have you melted and turned into a – a–
“Bedpan?”
“Yes. Thank you.” He closed his eyes. “Go find the two who had The Box. Find out what happened to the contents. Retrieve the contents. The CONTENTS. Do you understand?”
“I understand, Dim Jody.” She walked away.
Dim sniveled. “I’m so dominant.”
Deet’s transport rested on the edge of Port Mental. The sun had not yet risen. At night the port was all neon lights, digital displays, gunner bikes roaring along the airspace between the buildings. Crystal grime music drifted to them from somewhere, and they could hear the murmur of voices, crowds milling about, most wearing masks.
“What’s with the masks?” Clancy asked.
“A festival. The Rise of Blissingus.” It’s just an excuse to party.”
“Do we need masks?”
“No. No. They aren’t required. Only– fun. So…” Deets gestured toward the city. “I forgot. What did you say was the reason for your visit?”
“We didn’t,” Clancy said.
“You still don’t really trust me?” Deets nodded his approval. “Good. Keep things close. Trust no one.”
The kids thanked Deets for his help and headed into the city, pushing their way through the crowds. Clancy had the directions. They went down a long flight of ancient stairs and passed among the open stalls of various vendors and food sellers, the air swimming with the smells of spices and charcoal fires. Neither one of them had eaten all day, and the odor of roasting foods now woke their aching stomachs.
“I can seriously do some damage in here,” Badger said. “Maybe we should get to that map shop first, though.”
“Look. Danyan food,” Clancy said, excited. “I need to eat. Seriously. I might pass out.” She grabbed Badger’s arm and dragged him toward the stall. “I always wanted to try Danyan.”
Badger followed. “It was in that movie? Right?”
“Solstice Gambit.” Clancy kept dragging him into the food stall. “I also love that movie.”
“You love Wattson Kyle,” Badger said.
“What can I say?” Clancy said. “I have a thing for Tinians. I love guys with pink skin.”
They now stood in front of the counter, looking up at a menu board hand written in chalk. Living his whole life in Dustside, Badger had lived on the local basics. “So, what should we order?”
A teen-ager, the girl at the counter had the glassy, vacant look of someone lnked into the net, her consciousness was far away. A cook worked behind a counter behind her, steam rising into the air, pans clanking. A scattering of customers sat at the small tables.
“In the movie they get Three Surprises,” Clancy said.
“Three surprises,” the girl said, suddenly snapping to consciousness.
“Three surprises,” the cook answered back.
Clancy had not actually made up her mind. “Wait. I didn’t–”
“Three surprises it is.” Badger put his hand on her back.
“Anything to drink with that?” The had the blurry demeanor of someone who’d just woken from a long sleep.
I’m not– what did they get in the movie? Oh! Levion Water.” Clancy leaned on the counter. “This is my first time having Danyan food.”
The girl regarded Clancy through half lidded eyes. “Hooray for you.”
The Danyan food came in steaming porcelain bowls etched in blue fire. Badger picked up the big, glass spoon but Clancy stopped him. “There’s a way to do this. You don’t just bulldog it down. First, you put your hands around the bowl and let the warmth seep into your fingers.”
“O-kay,” Badger said, following her lead and wrapping his hands around the bowl. He felt the warmth, and more. “I can taste it.”
Clancy nodded. “Next, close your eyes and savor the smell.” They both closed their eyes and leaned forward into the steam. Like the warmth, the steam not only caressed their senses with a medley of lemons and sugar, cinnamon and dates, but their skin began to tingle as waves of tiny pleasures rolled from their head to their toes.
“We’ve connected with the dish,” Clancy said, picking up her spoon. They dipped their spoons into the Three Surprises, which looked like porridge, with seeds and nuts. Their bodies sang with pleasure. “Does everything look brighter? Sharper?” Clancy marvelled. The world seemed more alive, throbbing with colors neither had ever seen. “The third surprise.”
Badger was looking at his hands, turning them over as if seeing them for the first time. “Is this laced with something?”
“It’s the kalavian root.”
They dug in, slurping, eating, eagerly gobbling down their meals, licking their spoons, laughing, talking.
The girl at the counter shook her head. “Tourists.”
When they’d finished eating, they headed back out into the crowded streets. “Port Mental is the dimes,” Badger said.
They made their way to the Final Stairs, the ones that led to the most ancient of the city streets, the stone worn smooth from 1000 years of footsteps. Heading down the main street, they saw the stone ceiling gave way to a force shield, and above that they could see the swirling waters of the ocean, tiger fish and turtles swimming above them.
This time of night, the oldest of the old city stood empty. Unlike the other parts of town they’d seen, it didn’t serve as home to bars and late night eateries. Everything was closed. The townhouses stood quiet but for a porch light and maybe the soft glow of a lamp inside the house.
The empty streets felt ominous, more dangerous than the crowded streets above. Their footsteps echoed, a dull, hollow sound. Shadowed alleys gaped along the way, and old iron street lamps glowed, dotting the street with puddles of light “It’s spooky down here,” Badger whispered.
“I agree,” Clancy whispered back. “But it’s also kind of cool.”
“Why are we whispering?” Badger said.
“I don’t know,” Clancy said.
Following Clancy’s map, they came to the cartographer’s shop. The front window displayed maps lacquered on planks, globes of a dozen different worlds, and old fashioned brass compasses. The painted sign above the door had the name in three different scripts, but the one they could read identified the business as “Galligan Grin. Cartographer.”
Badger peered in the window. “Closed.”
“Now what?”
“We wait.”
They sat on the doorstep. Finally able to relax after their intense day, and with their bellies full from a rich, full meal, they began to nod off. “Uh,” Badger said, yanking his head back up from his chest. “Yeesh.” He got to his feet. “You sleep. I’ll keep watch.”
“Keep watch?” Clancy said. “Why? There’s no one here.”
“I don’t know. It just seems like a good idea. Sleep. Go on. I’ll be fine.”
“Wake me up after a while. I’ll do second shift.”
“We’ve watched way too many movies.”
“It’s like we’re living in a movie,” Clancy said with a yawn. She curled up in the corner of the doorstep and closed her eyes. “Watch out for goblins.”
“And killer robots.”
Clancy snored. Loud. Like a bear. Badger grimaced. “The first chink in the armor,” he whispered. Unsnapping the holster, he pulled out the gun. Tested the sight again. He hadn’t thought much about robot girl since they’d gotten their way. What would happen when it figured out the box was empty? Would it come after them? But, how would it even know where to look for them? How had it found them the first time?
“My dad’s gun.” He’d seen it in pictures. Now, he had it in his hand. He felt the weight of it. Hefted it. Deets. Could it be true? Was his father trapped in stasis on some prison planet? He wondered if the blaster would have the stopping power to take down a killer robot. “HCOMM. Does a Carbohol-40 have the power to take down a killer robot girl?”
“Here’s what I found on the internet.” A bunch of links to manga popped up.
Holstering the gun once more, Badger leaned against the wall of the shop. His eyes closed. He forced them open. He sat down on the door step next to Clancy. Slapped his hands on his knees. “I’ll just rest my eyes,” he mumbled. “Just for a minute.”
Badger felt a hand reaching inside his jacket. He snapped awake but it was too late. He saw a triumphant Mothren holding the map, backing away. Four more Mothren stood with him. The Mothren with the map handed it to another, the biggest of the group not just in body but also with the biggest head, a great, bulbous head. “A map.” He looked it over. “A map. A map. A map.” The other Mothren started to chant “a map a map a map.” They had buzzing, insect voices, and the noise of them all chanting at once created the sound a wasp swarm.
Badger looked to Clancy to make sure she was safe. She still slept. He stepped to the side to put himself between her and the raiders. He assessed. Five on one. Not good odds. His hand dropped to the pistol grip. Losing the map was not an option. “You have my property.”
“Possession,” Yazin, the Mothren leader, put his hands on the pommels of his ghost blades.“Is ten ninths of the law.”
“Hand it over, and no one gets hurt.”
“There’s only one of you,” Yazin said. “And of us gathers five.”
“Two of us.” Clancy got to her feet. Half asleep foggy, she still managed to put steel in her eyes.
Yazin stepped back. One of the raider crew chimed in, “Such good skin. Such young skin.”
The Mothren all started to make a slurping sound, their antennae twitching. They drew their ghost blades, the lengths of them frothy with ironic energy.
The street remained empty.
“Come soon the defenders of this place.” Yazin tucked the map into the leather satchel he wore over one shoulder.. “We must leave with our prize. It will look so perfect in the pile.”
“No,” Clancy and Badger said in unison. Badger cut off the leader. Clancy took up a defensive position alongside him, the two at angles to each other that between them gave them a 360 degree view of the area. Clancy activated her HCOMM and a detailed map of the scene rose up above them while the array announced, “contacting authorities now.”
“You’re not leaving with our map.” Badger drew his pistol. The targeting array rose. He’d never fired a Carbohol-40 in real life, so once more he had to hope the video game experience proved righteous.
“Then leave not at all will you.” Yazin said, drawing his blades.
Badger fired. Yazin deflected the bolt back at him, knocking the pistol from his hand.
“Street War,” Clancy calmed her mind, allowing the adrenaline to serve her and not disturb her. She and Badger had fought in situations just like this in Street War many times.
“Street War,” Badger agreed.
The raiders closed in, two on each of them, coming at them from the sides, kicking at their knees hoping to shatter their joints. Clancy blocked with her foot, then tumbled forward and did a sweep kick, knocking one of the Mothren off his feet. As her leg slammed into the goblin, she felt a heavy thunk and pain rattled her knee. She reveled in the fact all their hours of VR combat training seemed to be paying off. “It actually works,” she said.
The Mothren attacking Badger went high-low, one leaping at his head while the other dove at his legs. Badger leapt forward, each of the goblins just missing the target and the two of them slamming into each other. Badger and Clancy repositioned to protect each other’s back, fending off strikes from their furious, hissing attackers. Sweating, their breathing growing heavy, they fended off the attacks, but they couldn’t manage to land any blows of their own.
“Tired they grow, the tasty humans,” Yazin shouted. “Harder go. Harder more..” The mothren intensified their assault. One of them got under Badger’s counters and latched onto his leg, biting. Badger shouted in pain. Distracted, Clancy felt a fist slam into her chin and saw stars, wobbling on her feet. She went down on one knee and felt teeth sink into her arm. The venom from the mothren sent them both into a hazy daze. Badger dropped to both knees. They looked punch drunk, their pupils wide and mouths hanging open.
“Gathers them up and off we go,” Yazin said, gleeful. “We will feast tonight.”
The goblins began to unravel the ropes from around their waists. “I want the leg of this one.” One of them said, eying Clancy’s thigh.
Stupified, she looked at him, feeling sick to think not just that she was to be eaten, but to be eaten by something so ugly. Another of the goblins crowded in, his sagging face taking up all her vision. He leered and said, “I’m going to suck her eyes out.”
Clancy fought through her drugged out haze and pulled her head back, but felt hands clasp the back of her head, hold her tight.
“Hurry!” Yazin said. “Hurry. Time we lack. Time we lose.”
A thunderous boom. Clancy found herself free as the mothren who’d been coming for her eyes spun and fell to the ground, a cloud of black smoke rising from its head. Woozy, she thought she saw a stick bug wearing a cowboy hat with a pair of blasters flaring and smoking as the goblins went down one by one. She looked at Badger. He looked at her. They threw their arms around each other as the world faded to black.