Prophet's Journey, page 17
part #1 of Prophet of the Badlands Series
“Female contaminant detected. Bonus points. Initiating removal procedure.”
With a shriek, Althea threw herself flat to the floor and scrambled to get behind a car. The horrible roar of gunfire so rapid it became a horrendous constant buzz instead of individual bangs hammered the air; the dead vehicles surrounding her erupted in clanks and sparks. Bullets made bizarre twangy pings as they ricocheted off into the concrete canyon.
“Hey!” shouted Ooru. He popped up, brandishing his spear.
As soon as the machine man stopped firing at Althea, the boy ducked again. Its second barrage chewed up the car her friends hid behind. An explosion of tiny foil scraps blew into the air from the backs of its guns, fluttering like lazy snowflakes to the ground. The wheelbot accelerated, rolling past Althea’s hiding place and turning to aim at the gap between cars, less than fifteen feet away with an unobstructed view of the children.
“Meanie!” screamed Althea.
The robot spun in place, pointing its weapons at her… but hesitated.
“Anomaly. Contaminant displays undocumented bioluminescence abnormal for species: human. Define origin of bioluminescent sclera.”
“Don’t shoot us! We are not contaminants!” yelled Althea.
“Define nature of bioluminescence.” The wheelbot continued pointing its guns at her face.
“If I tell you, will you promise not to shoot me?”
“Subject: human is biological organism within contaminated zone. Directive is to purge all aberrant biologic life in contaminated zone. I am unable to modify my program.”
A rock bounced off its head with a clank.
“Modify that, turd brain!” yelled Paama.
“Attack ineffective. Projectile has penetrated”—its voice shifted down—“zero”—and went back up—“millimeters of armor.” The wheelbot spun toward her. “Contaminant designated ‘target two’ located. Female contaminant. Bonus points.”
“Hey!” screamed Althea. She picked up a hunk of concrete and threw it at the machine man, striking it in the back before it shot Paama. “You’re mean! Why do you wanna kill girls more than boys!”
The wheelbot rotated to point its guns at her again. “Female contaminants possess capacity for producing additional contaminants. Cleansing female contaminants also cleanses all possible future contamination they may create.”
A bigger rock bounced off the machine’s head.
“I don’t have cooties!” shouted Paama.
It spun toward her.
Althea grabbed another stone and threw it, hitting the machine in the head.
“Damage inflicted: zero,” said the wheelbot. “Your attacks are ineffective. For maximum comfort, you should not resist contaminant removal. You will only expire at a depleted level of energy, which I understand is uncomfortable for you.” Its guns twitched, but didn’t fire. “Secondary objective: data gathering. Permits delay of contaminant removal. Define bioluminescence for data gathering. Are you species: human?”
“Yes.” Althea jumped onto the roof of the car at her left, diving over it an instant before the wheelbot opened fire at her.
She landed in a somersault.
“Targeting: Contaminant 3. Male.”
“Telemarketer!” yelled Ooru.
A brief buzz of gunfire ended with another stone-on-metal clank.
“What the heck does that mean?” yelled Althea.
“It’s the worst bad word in the world,” shouted Paama. “It’s so bad, Elder Noema said it can make anyone who hears it angry enough to hit people.”
Ooru screamed.
Althea ran out from between cars into view. “Hey! Shoot me. I’m worth more points. Leave him alone!”
The wheelbot had cornered Ooru, seconds from splattering him all over the wall, but miraculously took the bait, swiveling toward her instead. Althea flooded her body with a surge of psionic energy, zooming down the aisle, the clap of her feet on the concrete echoing over the garage. The wheelbot’s tire spun so fast it threw off a billow of white smoke, but the machine didn’t go anywhere for a second until the rubber caught traction and hurtled the bot forward, its body briefly tilted backward.
Althea sprinted, inches in front of a hail of gunfire that shredded decayed vehicles, filling the air with a spray of metal and glass bits. A sudden bad feeling made her jump to the left, diving between two cars. Bullets whizzed past her, far too close. She skidded for a few feet on her chest, then scrambled upright again. The wheelbot kept going to the end of the aisle, coming around into the next lane in front of her. She squeaked and darted back the other way, jumping up to run across the hood and roof of a big sedan.
“Contaminant reclassified. Non-human.”
“I am human!” shouted Althea. She scrambled for cover behind a big concrete column, and paused to gasp for air with her back pressed against the cool stone.
“Humans do not possess the capability to travel at thirty-two miles per hour without mechanical assistance.” Whirring circled to the side, announcing the wheelbot driving around the other way. “Define nature of bioluminescence.”
“I dunno why they glow; they just do!” Althea scooted around the column to keep it between her and the robot. “Hey. I have a question.”
“Contaminants do not pose queries.”
“Is that a rule?”
The whirring stopped. “I am unable to find program code prohibiting processing a contaminant query. Proceed.”
“Umm. What?”
“You have a query?”
“Yes.”
“Provide the query.”
She swallowed saliva and took a few breaths. “You’re CRP, right? Cybernetic Re-something pro-whatever.”
“Cybernetic Reclamation Project. Authorized by United Coalition Front Senate in the year 2378. Self-actualized in 2379 under the command of Sigma Six. That is correct.”
“What is a cyborg?”
“A cyborg is an organism consisting of a combination of biological and mechanical parts that complement each other to produce a stronger, more functional whole.”
“You don’t have a brain. I can’t hear any thinking in your head.”
“I have an advanced neuro-processing unit capable of four-point-one exaFLOPS.”
“Are you biological at all?”
“I do not possess any biological components. Sigma Six determined that biological components present unacceptable levels of weakness.”
Althea closed her eyes and thanked whatever kept this thing talking to her so she could catch her breath. “If you have no biological stuff, are you a cyborg?”
“No. The correct term would be robot.”
“So you guys can’t be the C-RP because you’re not a cyborg. Shouldn’t you change the name?”
“Processing…”
Althea pushed off the column and ran. The wheelbot stood still in the middle of the aisle, its lenses flickering rapidly. She zoomed around to where Ooru and Paama hid behind a dead van.
“Come on. I confused it. We have to get out of here!”
Ooru jumped up, pulling Paama after him before running perpendicular to the aisles across the garage. Althea sprinted after them. Ooru wiped out, landed on his chest, and slid under a car. Althea spotted the puddle of blood he’d slipped on too late to react before it took her feet out from under her. She came down on her butt and went sliding across the smooth floor, crashing into a column.
“Ouch.” Althea windmilled her arms for balance as she rolled back to her feet
The wheelbot came out of nowhere, stopping inches in front of her. She leaned up on her tiptoes, back pressed to the concrete post.
“Query resolved. Some active units still retain biological components. As an organizational title, CRP is still valid. If all units become fully robotic, the name should be changed for accuracy.”
“Oh. That’s nice.” Althea faked a smile. “Please, can we live now?”
“You are contaminants. You must be cleansed.”
“But we’re leaving. You don’t have to cleanse us because we’re gonna go away on our own.” She stared into the tips of two tri-barrel rotary cannons, and whimpered. “Pleeease?”
It blinked. “Contaminants cannot effect self-removal without termination of biological life processes.”
Ooru rose up behind the wheelbot with his spear held high in both hands. He swung it down, walloping the wheelbot over the head… but the strike stopped dead with a clank, having little effect on the machine.
The robot’s glowing amber eyes narrowed. “Hostility detected.”
It rotated, sprouting a sword-sized blade from its chest that slashed the boy across the middle. Ooru wailed in pain and staggered backward.
“Optimal cleansing efficiency. Does not require ammunition expenditure.” The wheelbot tilted forward, rolling at him with the sword held high.
Althea shoved herself off the column, charging at the awful machine. She jumped into the air, planting a flying double-kick into the wheelbot’s left shoulder before crashing flat on the ground. The hit twisted the metal man enough that it mostly missed Ooru, slicing open the side of his leg rather than stabbing him in the heart. He collapsed, grunting in pain, and dragged himself toward a car.
“Target change.”
The wheelbot pivoted around, retracted its blade, and trained its guns on Althea. Total panic sent such a surge of psionic boost into her muscles that she sprang into the air like a flea, sailing twelve feet off the ground. Bullets tore up the concrete where she’d been. Her back scuffed the ceiling at the top of her arc. The wheelbot fired again, missing over her head as she fell; Althea hit the ground running, heading straight for a row of cars. Bullets raced across the floor behind her. She darted to the left between a pickup and a van, shrieking at a pelting of tiny concrete fragments hitting her legs. The wheelbot ceased firing as she ran among the cars ducking under side mirrors.
“Contaminant is fortunate that I do not suffer the biological flaw of frustration. I will not kill you with unnecessarily elevated levels of pain because you are resisting cleansing so effectively.”
She ran out into the next aisle, which went downhill. The wheelbot appeared at the top of the ramp behind her, so Althea poured on speed, running as fast as she could propel herself over the wide open space. Bullets chirped and pinged off the ground at her heels. She nearly lost her footing at the bottom when she stepped in another puddle of blood, and wound up skiing across the slick before tripping over the body of a huge man face down at the end of the giant bloodstain.
Althea fell draped over the corpse, staring at a giant hammer—as long as her height—on the ground beside him. She sprang up and grabbed the handle, pouring psionic power into her body to make it stronger. Without psionic help, she’d never have been able to lift it. Her muscles burned as she hefted the ridiculous weapon, nearly teetering over backward when she raised it over her head. Every second she kept it aloft, the muscles in her arms burned worse.
“Althea!” shouted Paama. “Look out!”
The wheelbot rolled around the column at the base of the ramp, starting to aim at her, but it slid sideways, spinning out of control in the blood slick. Its guns went off, firing wild, nowhere near her for the second it took the machine to sail by and crash into the wall with enough force to bend the barrels of the left gun arm.
Furious for it hurting Ooru, Althea growled and ran at it. The machine reversed out of the small dent it made in the cinder blocks, spinning about to face her a second before she brought the huge hammer straight down on top of it, driving its head into the torso. Flashes and sparks came from within, spitting out the gap at the neck. The stink of fried insulation and burned silicon filled the air. She coughed on the smoke, stumbling backward.
Her muscles refused to cooperate anymore, so she dropped the hammer and backed away.
“Error. Visibility reduced.” The wheelbot raised its gun arms, which began spinning as the robot rotated rapidly.
“Uh oh.” Althea ran for cover, diving into a slide that put her under a dead truck.
The wheelbot’s left gun arm exploded when it tried to fire, the right one throwing bullets around in a continuous, blind circle. Althea crammed herself as deep as she could under the old vehicle, trying to stay out of the way of bullets.
A moment later, the bullets stopped, though the crazy wheelbot continued spinning in place. Paama dashed out from behind a column full of bullet gouges and hurried to the large man’s corpse. She plucked a gun off his belt, pointed it at the wheelbot… and a bright blue beam connected the tip to the machine, melting a hole in the armor.
“Danger elevated. Armor compromised. Error. Signal lost. Interference.” It stopped rotating in place and accelerated—straight into the wall.
Paama ceased staring at the gun in awe, and fired again and again at the wheelbot until it burst into flames and fell over. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “That’s for Ooru!” She shot it again. A few seconds later, pure terror engulfed her.
“No!” Althea crawled out from under the truck. “It didn’t kill him. And why are you scared?”
“I killed a Silver Man. They’re the warriors of the gods. I’m gonna die.”
“Umm… Ell-Gee has a bunch of them hanging in a room with wires. If you’re gonna die for not letting this one kill us, he’s in big trouble.”
“No. We find those, already broken. The gods send them to us so we have power, heat, and light.”
“They are only machines, not soldiers for gods.” Althea forced the girl’s terror away. “Don’t be afraid.”
She whirled to stare at her. Without the wall of terror in the way, strong sadness took over. “Ooru’s cut real bad. We’ll never get him to Mariko before he bleeds to death. And Mariko won’t be able to help him anyway, just make him comfortable until the gods take him.” Paama sniffled.
Althea forced the girl’s sadness away, too. “Do not be afraid. I will help him.”
“What?” Paama blinked, confused at her abrupt change of mood. “Oh no!”
Not waiting for the girl to explain what new idea worried her, Althea ran up the ramp, heading toward the boy’s moans. She found him under a car, flat on his back clutching his chest.
“Ooru.” Althea reached for him, but he’d gone in too far to get a hand on.
“Sorry. I tried,” wheezed the boy.
“Will you stop? Both of you!” Althea crawled in after him and grabbed his hand. Eyes closed, she linked her mind to his life essence, visualizing his body as a series of shapes and blobs floating in a black void. The slash to the chest opened one of his air bags, but didn’t go deep enough to damage the heart-shape. His leg wound appeared painful, but not terrible. She forced his body to disregard pain, then commanded the hurts to go away. The deep slice across his torso took three minutes to close, after which she fed power into him so his blood-shape regenerated from what he’d lost. Fortunately, his air-bag hadn’t deflated, so she didn’t need to blow it up for him.
“What happened?” asked Ooru.
“I made the hurts go away.” She scooted out from under the car and sat back on her heels, thoroughly out of breath.
Ooru followed, got to his feet, and pulled his shirt open to examine his chest. A thin line of lighter tan across his otherwise brown skin revealed where the cut had been. “How…”
“I’m the Prophet,” said Althea in a tired voice. “This is why people are always trying to steal me.”
Paama flopped to the floor beside her. “I’m sorry!”
Althea gave her side eye. “Why?”
“For saying I was gonna kick your butt before. I didn’t know you were a god.”
“I’m not a god. I can just heal people.”
“That’s real magic. Nobody can do that. You have to be a god.” Paama wiped tears off her cheeks. “Right?”
“No. It’s called psionic. There’s a big city that has so many people who can do psionic stuff that they have special police just for that.”
“If there are many people with this magic, why does everyone chase you?” asked Ooru.
Althea managed a weak smile, and shrugged. “I think I’m the only one who can take the hurts away from other people.”
“So you’re really not a god?” asked Ooru.
She sighed out her nose. Maybe if she lied and said she was, it would be easier to convince the people in the village of Transit to get out of here and go far away from the dangerous machines. But, lying caused bad things. And telling big lies caused bigger bad things. Besides, Queen Kye needed help.
“No. I’m just Althea.” She smiled. “I’m a person like you, but I have some magic.”
18
Sacred Halls
Althea rested, trying to catch her breath. Growing pain in her arms and back worsened with each passing minute until it became clear she’d hurt herself. She concentrated her power inward, sensing multiple rips in her muscle shapes, mostly in her arms and back. That hammer had been far too heavy for her, and she’d pushed her body too much. One by one, she mended the damaged parts, the muscles twitching.
She missed the fur blanket and that nice bed, wanting to curl up there for a day or two even if it delayed going home.
Eventually, Paama stood. “We shouldn’t stay here. More Silver Men will find us.”
“If you’re tired, I will carry you.” Ooru offered a hand.
“I can walk.” Althea forced herself upright.
Ooru took the lead, heading down the ramp. They went around two big circles, trudging past enough car husks to build a new wall around Querq. By the time they reached the second story below ground, Althea had ceased leaving bloody footprints on the concrete floor. At the base of that ramp, the boy walked off to the left. Three more corpses lay there, perforated with dozens of bullets each—clearly the work of a wheelbot.
Somber silence hung over the trio while they walked to the back end of the garage. Ooru guided them to a hallway wide enough for a car, but only about twenty feet long. Tribal markings covered both walls, the floor, and even the ceiling in parts. A large, armored door consisting of two massive metal slabs took up most of the end of the corridor. They, too, had been covered in tribal petroglyphs. Some of the ritual symbols had frozen speech, the most common being, ‘Starbucks,’ ‘Apple,’ ‘Nike,’ and ‘BMW,’ among others. Dozens of plastic jugs, pottery urns, bowls, and plates by the door held offerings of long-rotted fruit, bread, and meat.
