Prototype D
Author: Jason D. Morrow
Date: 2015-08-30 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction; Dystopia; Fiction; Post Apocalyptic; Apocalyptic; Science Fiction Fantasy; Fantasy; Robots; Young Adult
Description: A hundred years after the world is decimated by nuclear wars, humanity has been reduced to a surviving city of people called the Mainlanders. They have food, water, and a wall that separates them from their enemies—the Outlanders. Branded as savages, the Outlanders have grown in number and their attacks against the city have become more brutal. They threaten to overtake the city, bringing with them the doom and destruction that has plagued mankind for over a century. What the Mainlanders need is a weapon.Des is the first robot created with a full range of human emotions. His reasoning skills a

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Other Books By Jason D. Morrow

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About Jason D. Morrow

Prototype D

By

Jason D. Morrow

Edited by Beth Morrow & Emily Simpson Morrow

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2015 Jason D. Morrow

All rights reserved.

Books by Jason D. Morrow

The Starborn Ascension

Anywhere But Here

Away From The Sun

Into The Shadows

The Starborn Uprising

Out Of Darkness

If It Kills Me

Even In Death

The Marenon Chronicles

The Deliverer

The Gatekeeper

The Reckoning

1

His eyes glowed and the clouds above him came into focus. The sky was mostly flat and gray, overcast with a bleakness that engulfed the sun. Of course, he had never seen the sun before. He could have scanned the archives embedded in his memory, but having knowledge of the sun and actually experiencing its warmth were two different things.

He lay on his back and had no memory of how he had gotten there. One by one his fingers started to twitch. From there they began to curl, and as they did he could feel the pressure sensors in his digits groping at the earth beneath him. With his right hand he made a fist and pulled the grainy substance away from the ground and held it above his face. Tiny red particles escaped his grip by the hundreds between the gaps in his fingers.

Dirt.

This time he did scan the archives in his mind and confirmed that yes, this was dirt. He let his fingers relax and the rest of the particles fell freely. Immediately his vision was impaired by the small cloud of dust and his body jolted upward into a sitting position. He shook his head quickly, trying his best to make the dirt fall away from his eyes. He looked at the ground next to him and then at his hands, a cold, hard metal. They felt strong as he tightened his grip on another fistful of dirt. This time he held up both hands in the air and let the grains fall slowly. The clouds of dust were bigger this time and he had to wave a hand in front of his face to clear the air. Clear vision, however, did little to present new information. The red floor went on endlessly in every direction until it collided with the gray sky. And he was completely alone.

He bent his metal legs and pressed his feet firmly into the ground and pushed until he stood upright. With his eyes scanning the terrain, his visual sensors determined that he stood at exactly two meters high. This height did nothing to extend his view, nor did it help his perspective. It didn’t matter what direction he looked, the horizon went on into infinity.

He thought he should take a step, but in which direction? There was no variation in the landscape but for a single dune toward the north, no reason to go one way over another. Whatever direction he took would be random and meaningless. But the action of doing so wouldn’t be. At least a step would take him somewhere, though by the looks of it perhaps there was nowhere to go. He lifted his heavy foot, took one step forward, and stopped. It wasn’t something he saw, for nothing in the landscape had changed, but instead he heard something: a short crackle followed by a low hiss. Then, a voice.

“Prototype D, do you copy?”

The voice was clear and he turned sharply to see if someone might have come up behind him somehow. Again he looked in every direction. Nothing. How silly was he to think that? He had already scanned the area and it was completely desolate.

The voice came back again. “Prototype D, do you copy?”

The noise was inside his head. Someone had tapped into his communication receptors. Until this very second, he didn’t even know he was equipped with such a system. He would have to check his full schematics later.

“Yes,” he said. It was the first time he had ever heard his voice. It sounded strange to him like his amplifier had been built inside a hollow tin can.

“Good, how are you feeling?” the voice asked him.

“Who is this?” He could feel his fingers start to tense. His structure felt rigid as if he was ready to jump at any moment.

“My name is Hazel.”

“I’m afraid I can’t remember my name,” he said. “You called me Prototype D. Why?”

“What if I just went with Des?” Hazel asked. “Would you like that better?”

“I do not have a preference for my name. It just bothers me that I don’t know it.”

“It’s Des,’ Hazel assured him.

“Do you know where I am?” he asked.

“I’m not allowed to tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“Because there are powerful people who don’t want me to say.”

“Then why are you talking to me?” He continued to look in all directions hoping something might show up if he simply looked hard enough.

“You have an important job to do, Des.”

He waited.

“But first I have to know you’re willing to follow directions. Are you?”

“That depends on the directions given,” he said. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“Because I’m your creator.”

He froze, finally fixated on a spot on the horizon. Had something changed? Was that movement in the distance?

“What do you want me to do?”

“In less than three minutes you will be overrun by a convoy and they aren’t the most pleasant crew.”

“Who are they?”

“Doesn’t matter. You have one job to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Run.”

“What? Where?”

“I want you to face North and sprint toward the dune in the distance.”

“What’s there?”

“Two minutes, forty-five seconds, Des. Go!”

There was no time to think. He either had to stay and take his chances with the convoy of an unpleasant crew or run at full speed toward the dune. Every second he took contemplating his options was a second lost.

One more step and he was in a sprint.

He felt alive. He felt fast. More than these he was scared. The ground rushed past as his legs carried him one long stride at a time, kicking up a trail of dust behind him. He wasn’t foolish enough to think he could outrun a car or truck, but perhaps there was something at the top of the dune that would help him.

For just a second, he turned his head to see the tiny black dot in the distance, only it was no longer tiny. It was much closer and had formed into distinguishable shapes. Ten large trucks with rounded canopy tops sped along in an almost perfect line. He couldn’t understand why they would be coming for him, but he didn’t want to question Hazel.

The dune felt bigger than the size he had calculated it to be. The closer he got to the top, the steeper the hill became. He brought himself down to all fours, walking with his hands in front of him to help keep his balance. His weight pressed deep tracks into the dirt beneath him. He wished there was something to grab onto—a rock or a branch—but there was only the fine red dirt that gave way too easily. He looked back one more time, the convoy getting ever closer. A final push and he reached the summit.

He hadn’t expected to see what was on the other side. It was like a tiny island in a sea of sand and dirt, but instead of an oasis of trees, grass, and water, there were several large skyscrapers surrounded by smaller structures. In the middle of all of them, standing higher than the rest, was a tower. It was a building covered in windowed glass with large antennas at the top. It seemed out of place as if it had been built much more recently than all the other structures. They were lifeless and without people, like gravestones for giants that may have once walked these lands in a time when there was life. He found it hard to believe that there was ever any life here, yet the evidence was right in front of him. He looked back at the convoy, his fear growing.

“Okay, you made it to the top,” Hazel’s voice spoke in his head. “You see that tower in the middle of the city?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Go there.”

“Why?”

“Don’t ask questions, Des. Just go.”

He wasn’t sure if he would make it to the tower before the convoy reached him, but he had to try. His legs carried him down the side of the dune with ease and precision, each step calculated to give him the quickest and safest route toward the tower.

The ground leveled and he picked up more speed. Flat ground was easiest for him. He could set the quickest pace possible and not have to worry about balance.

“On the east side of the tower,” Hazel said, “I left something for you. Go there and you will see it.”

“I have to make it to the city first. I don’t think I’m going to outrun the convoy.”

“You will,” she said. “Just don’t stop running.”

He did as he was told, his metal feet hitting the dirt with loud thuds. He could hear the convoy gaining on him, engines growling in the open air. What could they want with him? Or were they simply headed in the same direction? He had only been alive for a matter of minutes, yet he couldn’t help but wonder if he was being used somehow. He knew nothing about the convoy. What if it was filled with good people—refugees seeking shelter in the graveyard of a city perhaps?

He came to the edge of the buildings and stopped only a moment to look behind him. The convoy was close now, but somehow he had reached the cluster of abandoned skyscrapers before them.

“No time to stop, Des, you’re almost there,” Hazel said.

“What’s at the tower?”

“If you go now, you will see,” she answered. “300 meters. Go.”

Through streets of sand and loose dirt, he ran between the buildings. 250 meters. 200 meters. He ducked left behind a building and cut through an alley. 150 meters. 100 meters.

The tower was directly in front of him, its peak grazing the sky. How he had not seen the tower on the other side of the dune eluded him. He veered right and headed for the east side as Hazel had instructed.

“What am I looking for?” he asked.

“At the base of the tower you will find a box,” she answered.

“How big is it?” But before he finished the question he saw it. Just as Hazel had said, the box sat against the base of the tower. It was about five feet long and three feet deep, its contents a mystery to him. “I see it.” He stood in front of it and noticed a large stamp on the top. Three letters. DES.

Des. My name. Me.

He stared at the box as a flood of thoughts came to him. He tried to analyze which thought was the most important.

“Des, you need to open it and get inside the tower,” Hazel said.

Still he stood transfixed. The mystery box with his name on it unnerved him for some reason. This entire experience made him feel uncomfortable. Scared. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Why did he have no memory of the past? Why were there no experiences to draw upon? Could he really trust this Hazel character who gave instructions in his comm system?

The earth shook beneath his feet as the trucks came nearer. He was running out of time. It felt like whoever was after Des was determined to get him but Des was determined to survive.

He took a step forward and grabbed the top of the wooden box with a firm grip and pulled. The wood fragmented into several pieces, the top coming off easily with Des’ hydraulic strength. When the top was reduced to splinters scattered in the dirt, he peered inside. Again he stood transfixed, not exactly sure what he was supposed to do.

“Tell me what you see,” Hazel said.

“An assault rifle. Extra ammunition and a bag.”

“What else?”

“A rocket launcher,” Des said. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

“You are programed to know how to use these objects, Des.”

“Yes, I know how to use them. Am I meant to take out the convoy?”

“You can’t take them on directly. Maybe you could lead them into a trap.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Think, Des. Think.”

“The tower. I should lead them into the tower.”

“Good.”

The trucks were almost there and Des had to act quickly. He reached down into the box and slung the rifle over his shoulder. He threw the extra ammo into a bag and the bag he slung over the other shoulder. Then he picked up the rocket launcher and held it firmly in his hands.

“Get in there, Des.”

He didn’t hesitate. The entrance was a gaping hole in the wall that could have been made by a rocket launcher like the one he carried. Inside was pitch black and his sight automatically switched to night vision. Among the debris of crumbled walls and shattered glass, a bare staircase zigzagged upward several floors before disappearing into walls still intact. He made for the stairs as quickly as he could. The noise outside the tower let him know that the convoy had come to a stop and that his pursuers weren’t far behind him.

Des wasn’t entirely sure the stairs would support his weight as he rushed upward. The stone cracked beneath his feet as his weapons rattled against his metal body with each step.

“When you reach the seventh floor,” Hazel said, “go to the large window on the east side.”

Two floors. Three floors. When he reached the seventh, he slowed his pace. Gray walls, cracked and broken, barely supported the weight of the structure. He wondered if it would be safer to be outside to face the convoy head-on than to be in here. It felt like the structure could collapse at any moment and bury him under piles of rock that even he couldn’t lift. He took long strides toward the eastern side of the building until he saw the window Hazel had mentioned.

“Good, you’re there,” she said.

“How do you know where I am?” Des asked.

“I’m able to track you.”

“How?”

“We can get into the specifics later when you survive the mission.”

“I’m still not clear what my mission is.”

“To listen to me. Now, walk toward the window slowly. Make sure none of them see you.”

He held the rocket launcher with a tight grip and inched his way toward the window. Ten trucks were parked outside where Des had been just moments before. Men, soldiers it seemed, were piling out the backs, fully armed with assault rifles. It was a small army.

“Why are they after me?” Des whispered.

“They aren’t,” Hazel said. “They are after something at the top of the tower.”

“What? Then why did you lead me here?”

“Your objective is to defend the tower and not let them get to the top floor.”

“I don’t know if I can do that. There are a lot of soldiers.”

“You have to try.”

“What exactly don’t I want them to get?”

“There’s a briefcase,” Hazel said. “Its contents are classified. This comes straight from the top, Des. Even I don’t know what’s in the briefcase.”

“And I’m just supposed to kill these soldiers?”

“If you don’t…” She paused and took a deep breath almost as if she didn’t want to say the words. “If you don’t then they will destroy you, Des. And worse…” Another pause. “They will get the briefcase. You can’t let that happen.”

Des could hear shouts coming from the floors below. They were in the tower now and would be on the seventh floor any minute.

“You’ve got a rocket launcher. Think about the best way to use it.”

He thought about pointing the end out the window and letting the explosive rocket take out one of the trucks, but another thought made him question what good it would do. They were already in the building. He decided to move toward the stairs. The first man to show his face would get a rocket through the chest. That would show the rest of them, right?

No. These men seemed determined. Taking out one person with a rocket seemed like a waste of firepower. The next scenario made the most sense. He took a few steps backward and pointed the rocket launcher at the staircase. Was this the right decision? He had only one rocket. Then it would be up to a few bullets.

The shouts became louder as the angry men charged up each crumbling step. This was the right decision. It was the best use of his explosives. He aimed for what he thought was the weakest point of the staircase and pulled the trigger. Des was sturdy and unmoving as the rocket soared with perfect aim to the target. The impact, however, nearly knocked him off his feet. Smoke and debris went in every direction and Des threw the launcher to the floor as he lunged away from the falling walls. He found himself prostrate on the floor, silently hoping the entire building wouldn’t come down on top of him.

Eventually, the walls settled and the dust began to clear. He got to his knees and peered at the staircase, now a massive heap of rock. Whoever these men were, they wouldn’t be getting to the top of the tower via the stairs.

“Nice work, Des, but you’re not in the clear yet,” Hazel said. “They will find another way up soon. You need to get to the top of the tower and secure the briefcase.”

Des walked toward the window. “No,” he said confidently.

“Des, you have to.”

“Not until I know who I’m talking to.”

“I told you. My name is—”

“Hazel, yes I know,” Des interrupted. “And you created me, sure. But how do I know it’s true?”

“My name is Hazel Hawthorn. I work for the Mainland government.”

“I need more than that.”

“Look me up in your archived memory.”

It only took Des a second to pull her up. His vision allowed for information to display semi-transparent in front of him—just enough to see the outside world, just enough to see the information he wanted.

A picture of a woman floated in front of him. She looked nice. Pretty. She had red hair that fell down past her shoulders. Her eyes were green and her skin, pale. The smile on her face seemed friendly but at the same time sad.

“I don’t have a lot of experience with smiles,” Des said, “but yours seems forced.”

“That picture was taken over a year ago,” Hazel said.

“You are younger than I expected.” He scrolled through the information quickly. “You are only twenty-six.”

“I am young for the position I have, but I’m qualified.”

“I never questioned your qualifications,” Des said. “Your reputation more than speaks for your capabilities.”

“I should hope so.” Hazel took a deep breath. “We’re out of time, Des. You need to figure out a way to the briefcase.”

“And what am I supposed to do with it once I reach it?”

“I will tell you when you get there.”

This was the game. He could only ask so much each time he accomplished something. First it was run. Then it was get to the city. Then the box. The tower. Now it was the mysterious briefcase at the top of the tower. But to what end?

Des looked back at the crumbled walls and wondered what the soldiers might try next. But as soon as he had the thought, he heard a crashing noise a floor or two below. He looked out the window and down. The same soldiers he had blocked off from the seventh floor had smashed through the fifth floor windows. He watched as they brought arms out, each hand holding clear disks. The first man reached high above his own head and pressed one of the disks against the glass. He then let his legs dangle out the window as he held onto the disk. With his other hand, the man reached higher with another disk as it suctioned against the glass. With a button, he released the first disk and began his slow climb toward the top of the tower. Des froze when he realized what was happening. More arms jutted out of the broken windows and more men dangled from this dangerous height, slowly climbing upward.

Des ran to the stairs, thinking if he took the rest of them up, he could outrun the others. But there was no running up the stairs. He had been successful in stopping the soldiers from going any further up the steps, but the blast had also blocked Des from ascending.

“I’m stuck,” Des said.

“Use your mind,” Hazel said. “You were built with a good one.”

“I don’t have the suction cups that they have,” Des argued. “I don’t have the ability to—”

“But you do, Des. You are stronger than any of these men. You have abilities you haven’t even discovered yet.”

“Then maybe you could clue me in.”

“Climb, Des. All the way to the top.”

He jogged to the window. The soldiers were almost on top of him now. He pulled his rifle from his shoulder and aimed. He could take a few of them out, dropping them back to the ground. His finger rested on the trigger as he thought about shooting them one-by-one. Could he just shoot the soldiers because they were after the briefcase? What if it belonged to them? What if Hazel wasn’t actually a friend and she was using him?

He slung the rifle back over his shoulder and stepped up onto the ledge of the window. He didn’t have suction cups like the soldiers, but Hazel was right. He didn’t need them. Holding onto the wall next to him, he leaned out the window and looked up. The next level was several feet above him. He bent his knees slightly and jumped upward and smashed a fist through the glass in the next level. His hand went through the glass as easily as it would water and his fingers gripped the ledge above him, his legs dangling over the side. The pane cracked like a spider web above him until it shattered into a million tiny pieces, showering him with sharp shards that would have pierced him if he had flesh. He pulled himself up to the next level. From the eighth floor he jumped and slammed his fist into the window of the ninth floor, continuously climbing upward. At the tenth floor, a large chunk of glass fell past Des and then he heard a scream. When he looked down he saw a man hanging on with one arm, the other limp at his side, blood streaming down his body. The glass must have hit him.

Des was going to start his ascent again, but something happened that he didn’t expect. The man let go of the suction cup and started a free-fall toward the ground. Des watched the man, zooming his vision to see him up close. When the man hit the ground, his head split open and blood shot up into the air. Des’ knowledge told him such a fall was fatal, but he had never thought about the prospect before.

He smashed a fist into the eleventh floor window and pulled himself up. He continued to go up, the man’s fall playing over and over in his mind. He was at the thirty-second floor when he looked down at the ground, almost surprised that he was so far up.

Falling meant death. Death meant the end. Des didn’t want to die. His fingers gripped the window ledge and he froze.

“Des, what’s wrong? Why have you stopped?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t want to answer.

“The soldiers are gaining on you.”

He didn’t care. From this height, how many pieces would his metal body crumble to if he fell? Would his head crack open like the man he had just watched?

“Des, you have to get to that briefcase.”

“I can’t.” He didn’t know what it was. He couldn’t get his fingers to let go, to loosen his grip. He felt that if he moved then he would fall. The electronic receptors on his body shook him. His hands felt trembly as did his shoulders and chest.

“Don’t say you can’t.”

“I can’t move my fingers.”

“There’s nothing on my screen to indicate that you have a malfunction.”

“This isn’t a malfunction. I just can’t.”

“Are you afraid?”

“It’s so high.”

“Des, you’ve got to move. The soldiers are gaining on you.”

“I…I can’t…”

This was fear. He didn’t know where it came from. He didn’t know why it held onto him so tightly.

Hazel kept talking in his ear, but he didn’t hear her. Seconds went by, perhaps even minutes. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend that he wasn’t holding on to the outside of a sky-high tower. He thought about trying to crawl into one of the floors, but one slip was all it would take.

Loud popping noises and crashing glass brought him to attention. He braved a look below him and saw that the soldiers were not far away, taking shots with one hand, holding on with the other.

“Des, go!” Hazel shouted.

“I can’t,” he managed. “What if I—”

He couldn’t finish his words before his grip on the wall started to loosen. He looked at his hands in terror. It wasn’t his grip, rather the ledge he had grabbed that started to break away from the building. A few bullets sprayed the glass next to him and Des lifted a hand to try and move away. Holding on with one hand wasn’t enough. A piece of metal snapped and he suddenly felt himself falling through the air.

This was it. His life had just begun and now it was over. Within seconds he would hit the ground and there would be nothing left of him. He tried to accept death as he fell, but he didn’t have time to accept what he did not know. He hadn’t had the chance to research what dying even meant.

The ground came closer and closer. Whatever death was, it waited for him at the surface of the red dirt below.

He didn’t hit the ground as hard as he thought he would. At such a speed, the impact should have been worse. He should have been in pieces all over the ground.

But there was no more red dirt. No more tower. No buildings. As he lay on his back, all he saw was white. Endless white. He sat up straight and looked in every direction. There was no beginning. There was no end.

Was this death? Perhaps he had hit the ground harder than he realized and he didn’t know that he was simply broken pieces on the ground. Maybe there was something wrong with his eyes and that was why he only saw white. But where his vision failed him, his hearing took over.

“Des,” a voice said in his ear. It was Hazel.

“Yes?”

“It’s time to come out.”

2

“It’s time to come out,” Hazel said. She pulled off her headset and tossed it on the desk in front of her. She raked her fingers through her red hair as she leaned back in the chair and let out a deep sigh.

“What was that supposed to be?” Roger asked. He rolled his chair next to hers and Hazel resisted the temptation to snarl.

“He froze,” Hazel said. The muscles in her jaw pulsed as she clenched her teeth.

“Well, I saw that clearly, you just better have a good reason why.”

“I don’t have to answer to you.”

“I never said you did.”

The answer was clear, but she didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to give Roger the benefit of a victory, and she didn’t want to give Commander Bracken a reason to yell at her. But she had signed up for this job and working for Bracken apparently meant getting yelled at on an almost constant basis.

“You know he’s on his way right now.”

“No doubt,” Hazel said.

“You better come up with something.”

Hazel shook her head and looked at the screen in front of her. Des was confused. Scared. She glanced at a screen to her right and noticed that his fear levels were still far above any of his other emotions, hovering around seventy percent. It had nearly maxed out when he was gripping the side of the building. It was moments like these that made her question what she was doing here. Giving something emotions and then testing them and putting them through intense levels of stress was not what she had in mind when she created Soul.

The Soul Project got its name after a fellow student accused her of trying to give robots souls through consciousness. The comment was meant as a deterrent to her work, but she liked it so much that it became the title of her thesis, and so far, her life’s work. Of course, Hazel was only twenty-six now and hoped that there would be plenty more projects in her life. But if The Soul Project was the only endeavor she ever got to pursue, she thought she would be fine with that. Emotions in mechanical objects was a field that could be studied for decades to come. And with Soul programmed into new robots, new comparisons could be made about human nature. Hazel was confident that the difference between robotic emotions and human emotions would eventually become an entirely new field of study thanks to her flawless programming. Awards were handed out for Hazel’s work. Mainland News declared her a prodigy and one of the most important scientists of their time.

Hazel didn’t care about any of that. She shoved her awards into a drawer at home and she didn’t keep up with the news. All people in the office ever seemed to talk about was the endless fight against the Outlanders. Hazel knew more about the Outlanders than anyone from firsthand experience so she avoided the topic altogether. It was true, however, that she was doing what she was doing now because of the current conflict between the Mainlanders and Outlanders.

Barbarians. Savages. Outlanders were people who were once part of Mainland but rebelled against the government and were ultimately ostracized. But the Outlanders had grown in size over the years and were a constant threat to the lives of the decent people in Mainland. If the surviving world was a target, Mainland would be the bull’s eye and the Outland would be the circle surrounding it, though the highest concentration of Outlanders was to the south. Self-sustaining and rich in resources, Mainland had survived for many years encircled by enemies, but the threat was getting worse by the day. Dead and wounded soldiers came in from time-to-time as they defended the wall surrounding the city. They were involved in small skirmishes mostly, but it was enough of a problem to warrant a new solution.

That was why Hazel was here. That was why Prototype D was born.

A loud bang from the other side of the room interrupted her thoughts. A door slammed against the wall as a group of men rushed through it—at least five of them. Each wore camouflage from cap to combat boots. Four of them carried assault rifles in their hands and a pistol at their belts. In the middle of them was a man who stood taller than the rest, and he didn’t wear a cap and certainly didn’t carry an assault rifle, though a pistol was ready on his belt.

Commander Bracken made his way toward Hazel’s desk. Roger stood up quickly and nervously, knocking over a lamp and dropping a few folders in the process. Hazel remained in her seat, staring at the screen in front of her. She didn’t have to stand when Bracken entered because contrary to everyone else working on this project, Hazel was an independent contractor and wasn’t technically affiliated with the military.

“Sir!” Roger said as he stood with a salute.

Bracken ignored him. “What was that supposed to be?” he asked, standing just a few feet from Hazel. His voice was always gruff and sounded strained as if he had just finished screaming at a group of new recruits.

“I’m not sure, sir,” Roger said nervously. “All the readings are perfect.”

“What about the simulator?”

“Everything proceeded as it should have.”

“Hawthorn?”

Hazel kept her chair turned away from Bracken and his men, staring at the screen that showed Des sitting on the floor. She desperately hoped the commander wouldn’t look at the bottom right of the screen and notice the level of fear the robot felt which was now hovering around sixty percent.

“If what I just saw is what I think I saw, then I’d say you’re a lunatic, Hawthorn.”

“That’s a bit of a stretch,” Hazel said, turning to face him. “What is it you think you saw?”

“I’ve been on the battlefield many times. I know when a man is overcome with fear.”

“That’s what you think happened to Des?” Hazel asked.

“I do,” he said quickly. “This had better be a comm malfunction.”

“Prototype D is working perfectly,” Roger sputtered. “If there is a flaw then it’s in the programming not the mechanics of the robot.”

“Glad I can count on you for backup,” Hazel said under her breath.

Roger turned to her and stared with apologetic eyes.

Bracken spoke next. “This was supposed to run perfectly. Do you realize what kind of pressure I’m under to get a functioning, thinking robot out into a real-world scenario?”

“Of course I understand,” Hazel said. “But this is the first time we’ve used Soul in a functioning robot. Soul is perfect. It can’t be my programming.”

Bracken looked at Roger one more time. “You are certain it wasn’t a mechanical malfunction? What about basic programming? This is the fourth robot. I’ve already given my word to President Morris that this would be the last prototype.”

“Prototype D is structurally sound,” Roger said. “We’ve worked out all the bugs. And Hazel is in charge of basic programming as well as Soul.”

“Basic is fine,” she said.

Hazel couldn’t deny that Des had worked well mechanically. Especially when put up against the previous prototypes. Prototypes A, B, and C were all failures in the lab. They were bad enough that Hazel didn’t even get the chance to program Soul into them. Instead, each of them had physical defects that prevented them from making it that far. Prototype A had a malfunctioning leg that caused it to run crookedly. If A had been ordered to run in a straight line, it would eventually make a big circle. B had improperly built optics. From the start it was running blind, having to rely on heat sensors and archived memory. B was a bust from the start. And C’s problem was difficult to figure out. In the pre-emotion field simulation, C couldn’t differentiate between enemies and allies. C was a terrific fighter up until it starting working in a simulated squad. It shot at anything and everything. Somehow, its basic programming had malfunctioned. That one was Hazel’s fault since she had created all of the programs for the robots. Hazel had been sure that the problem would fix itself once she installed Soul, but Bracken wouldn’t have it. He wanted a perfect robot from the start—before the Soul program could take effect.

Hazel knew what that meant. It meant that he wanted the option to scrap the Soul program altogether. He fell into the camp that thought mindless drones would be enough in the fight against the Outlanders. Humans would give the orders and the robots would obey. But Hazel’s Soul program offered the chance for the robots to truly think for themselves in battle. They could make sound decisions based on feelings rather than only logical numbers. The program could be successful enough so that eventually a human would never have to step foot in the Outland again. Even commanders could be replaced by robots. Perhaps Bracken feared for his job. No one in a position of power would want to be replaced by a robot. But couldn’t it mean a promotion instead of replacement? That depended on Commander Bracken, Hazel thought.

“Then it’s Soul,” Bracken said, looking at Hazel. His jaws clenched and he looked down at the floor. To Hazel it seemed that he was trying hard to keep himself from lashing out at her. “What would possess you to create a program that allowed fear?”

“You can’t just eliminate fear.”

He looked up from the ground and met her eyes. “I need to speak with Miss Hawthorn. Alone please.” He waited a moment for everyone to leave, but Roger seemed stuck in place, watching the exchange between Hazel and Bracken as if it were a bad train wreck. “Clear the room!” he yelled.

Roger jumped at the noise of Bracken’s harsh voice, and one of Bracken’s guards motioned for him to follow the others out.

When the doors closed behind them, it was just Hazel and Bracken. The tension in the room felt like a dark cloud of smoke that surrounded Hazel, choking her, rendering her incapable of speech. She turned slightly to look at Des on one of the screens. This particular view showed a close-up of his face.

He was incredible. Every part of him was gray in color. Hazel didn’t know what color future models might be painted, but Des was all he would ever be. He had four limbs—two long legs and two arms that would swing slightly when he walked. His movements were so human, though he almost looked like the bare skeleton of a person. Every metal inch of him consisted of a high-entropy alloy that made him as light as aluminum but stronger than titanium. Such a robot was meant for combat—something that could take a few bullets.

But it was his face that made him seem human. It was plated with the alloy too. Des’ face was designed to make interaction with humans more pleasant. Covering the alloy in a light gray, flesh-like rubber compound that gave him lifelike expressions, his skin was meant to emulate human skin. His lips would move with his speech. He might frown if he was upset or smile if he was happy—Hazel had yet to test any of this with him, but in the simulation there were grimaces, frowns, looks of worry. Even now, he seemed nervous, his forehead crinkled, his eyes darting from one place to another.

And he was also equipped with simulated nerve endings. Though he didn’t feel pain like a human might feel pain, he would be able to tell if something felt unpleasant. They were electronic receptors interlaced throughout his entire body. He could feel temperatures, textures, a breeze. All-in-all he was an amazing machine.

“You don’t get what we’re doing here, do you?” Bracken asked calmly.

“I do get it,” Hazel answered, not looking away from the screen.

“Then tell me why the robot is too afraid to climb a tower.”

“I tried to tell you, but you got angry and cleared the room.”

“That’s because I’m going to correct you and I’m not sure you want me to do that in front of your colleague.”

“Correct me how?”

Bracken took a step forward. “Look at me.”

Hazel didn’t have to do what he said. She didn’t want to do what he said out of pure rebellion. Turning would almost feel like a betrayal to herself—almost like she was giving up, letting him win.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Hazel spun in her chair. She felt blood rush to her cheeks. She didn’t know where it came from, but the words spewed from her lips before she could stop herself. “Who do you think you are, my father? What gives you the right to talk to me that way?”

“I am your superior!”

“You are nothing of the sort,” Hazel said through heavy breaths. “I didn’t join the Mainland Military. I’m not under your official command. You are not my superior because you know nothing about robots, and you truly know nothing about human emotions!”

“Enlighten me.” He took another step forward.

Nervousness replaced her anger as he towered over her.

“Prototype D showed fear because he had never been put in a situation like that before,” Hazel said. “You have to treat him like you would any other person.”

“He’s not a person.”

“It doesn’t matter. He has emotions.”

“It has emotions,” Bracken said. “You keep calling it a he.”

“Fine. It has to be treated like a he because that’s how good the program is. If you throw a person in a simulator and put him through what you just put the prototype through he would have frozen too.”

“But it’s not a person, and we have the power to change that. Answer my question: why did you program Prototype D with fear?”

“Because fear is what keeps us alive. Without it, your robots will be reckless and make poor decisions. I don’t think that’s what you want if the robots are going to fight a war for you.”

Bracken took a couple of steps toward Hazel, but moved past her in the last second. He leaned forward and rested his hands on the desk in front of him as he stared at the close-up of Des.

“The president put me in charge of this project,” Bracken said. “If all goes well, it means the lives of our soldiers will be saved. It means we can put an end to this conflict with the Outlanders and get on with our lives. You are a very small part of a very large picture. The sooner you understand that the better.”

“I’m just trying to do my job,” Hazel said.

“We don’t have to have robots with emotions,” Bracken continued. “I can win a war with a small number of these things, I don’t care if they can think for themselves. If I have to go emotionless, that’s what I’m going to do.”

“But that’s not what your boss wants,” Hazel said. “That’s not what the president wants.”

Bracken sighed. “I know.”

Hazel’s features softened a little as Bracken stood in silence. This was a rare human moment for him—he looked vulnerable. His shoulders sagged and his eyes looked tired. There was no doubt that he felt pressure from above, but that didn’t mean he always had to spread it out to the rest of them. She looked at the same face-filled screen. “I can’t simply erase the emotion of fear. Fear is connected to too many other emotions. To simply erase it would screw up the entire program.”

“You have two days,” Bracken said suddenly. He stood straight and like a flash his defeated expression was gone, replaced by his natural angry look.

“I can’t do it in two days! A month maybe…”

“Two days, or the program is scrapped,” he said. “I already have a new robot ready and waiting.”

“A new one? I thought Des was the new robot.”

“Prototype D is just that. A prototype. And he was supposed to be the last one. Thanks to you we’re unofficially moving on to Prototype E.” He held up a finger. “And this one will work. I can’t have entire squads of machines that are too scared to go into battle.”

“You have to train them to control their fear,” Hazel said.

“That’s your job. Write it into the programming. Get rid of it.”

Hazel shook her head. “If you just took the time, Mainland would be invincible. You would never lose a soldier!”

“Two days,” Bracken repeated, walking toward the door. He spun around quickly and pointed at the screen. “I’m also putting an order in to wipe that robot’s memory clean. You’ll put your revised program in it first.” He started to walk out the door.

“No,” Hazel said.

Bracken stopped in the doorway. “Excuse me?”

“Wiping his memory would be the same as killing him.”

Bracken shook his head as he pushed the door further. “What bothers me the most is that you’re serious.” He glanced up at the screen again. “It’s a robot, Miss Hawthorn. Wipe its memory. Fix your program.” He started to leave, but stopped short again. “And another thing, stop being such a civilian. You might not be a soldier, but you still have to follow my orders. You work for me.”

He left the room, leaving the door open behind him.

As Hazel looked at the screen and watched Des’ expression, she knew immediately that she wasn’t going to follow Bracken’s orders. She had given Des emotions. Life. She wasn’t just going to wipe it away like it was nothing. If it were up to Bracken, Des would be dead by the afternoon. Good thing it wasn’t up to Bracken.

3

To Nolan Ragsdale it felt strange to be headed back to Mainland. He sat in the back of a container truck with only small slits in the side to give light from the outside world. He and another man, Gus, sat across from each other with barrels of some mineral all around them. If the truck was stopped or checked by Mainland guards, the two of them would be able to hide, but Gus kept his rifle ready just in case. Nolan had a pistol. It would be enough to fight a few soldiers, but barely.

On this particular mission Nolan might have liked to be by himself, but this was just the type of operation where he needed a companion. Gus had to be twice his age with deep set wrinkles and a brown weathered face. His white hair fell past his eyes and covered his ears. Every couple of minutes he would start coughing until he got whatever it was out of his throat and then finished it off with a harsh-smelling liquid that he kept in a small flask hidden away in his jacket pocket. If Nolan didn’t know Gus’ reputation, he might have thought this was some kind of joke, but the Council knew what it was doing, and this mission was too serious. Gus knew Mainland well. He’d been a broadcaster for the news, and a good one too, until he was banished for getting too close to a meaty story about corruption within the Mainland government.

More than twice Nolan caught Gus staring at him, though he couldn’t blame him. Nolan was the most wanted man in Mainland. To some Outlanders he was like a king, heralded as one of the greatest men of their generation. To others, however, he was little more than a troublemaker and a killer. He wondered what Gus thought.

“You look younger than in your pictures,” Gus said when Nolan caught him staring for the third or fourth time.

“That’s because the news chooses bad pictures of me,” Nolan replied with a smirk.

Gus shrugged. “I suppose after all you’ve been through you would have aged a couple of decades. You’re only like thirty, right?”

“Thirty-one,” Nolan said.

The man shook his head and sipped more of the alcohol from the flask. “I can’t even remember my thirties it was so long ago.” The man sniffed a nose full of mucus and hocked a wad of phlegm past the nearest barrel. It smacked the next barrel with a loud ping and Nolan couldn’t help but look away in disgust. “So,” Gus said, leaning his head in toward Nolan. “What was it like? You know…when you…” He held up his pointer finger and thumb like a gun and made a motion as if he was shooting it.

This was not Nolan’s first interaction like this. He had been the one who delivered the sting, the hardest blow to Mainland that had ever been made by the Outlanders. Of course, it was over a year ago. All the hype had calmed down. But still, it was all part of the plan. Almost a year ago to the day, he murdered the president of Mainland, Clarence Godfrey.

The kill had been simple. The escape, however, proved to be more complicated. Still, he had pulled it off and the Mainlanders were in shock. But killing the president had been only a small part of the plan. The Outlanders also wanted to send a message that they weren’t the only people left on this earth. There were others outside Mainland’s circle of protection.

He knew killing the president would only fuel the Mainlander hatred for all Outlanders, but killing the president hadn’t been the only objective. They were supposed to expose him for who he was. Clarence Godfrey was an evil man and people didn’t know it. No one knew it except some of the Outlanders.

Within the closed circles of the Mainland government there were secrets. Dangerous ones. And these weren’t the type of secrets that were kept for the sake of protecting the citizens. The government wasn’t keeping information from Mainlanders for their own good. They were the kind of secrets that if exposed, would cause revolts, riots in the streets, mayhem. There would be chaos all throughout Mainland. That was Nolan’s mission. He wanted to expose the truth to the people there. He wanted there to be revolts and riots.

He never looked at himself as an agent of chaos. Chaos for chaos’ sake was not productive. Everything in their plan was calculated. Chaos throughout Mainland would make the government weak. Eventually, a new government would emerge. And in the midst of all of it, the Outlanders would rise. When Mainland was at its weakest point, there would be another enemy to swoop in and change things.

“I would have given anything to still be a broadcaster when all that was going on,” Gus said.

“How long has it been since you were tossed out?”

“Years and years.” He looked down at his hands as if the topic wasn’t years old. Instead, it seemed like a fresh wound. “You want a sip?” Gus growled at him, holding up his flask in the air.

Nolan shook his head.

“You might need one. We’re coming up on the border.”

Nolan felt a new level of anxiousness that hadn’t been there before. Once they crossed through the border and into Mainland there would be no turning back. Not that he could afford to turn back anyway. Outlanders couldn’t afford it. They had been running out of food stores and supplies and pretty soon they would be dying off. They just didn’t have the resources that Mainland had, but Mainland wanted it that way. They were happy to let the savages die off.

He stared at the barrel in front of him. It was old and dented and had probably made this trip more times than Nolan could count. The minerals were priceless to the Mainlanders and they were only able to obtain them miles and miles from their border. Generally, they had become experts at traveling safely and they were rarely attacked by the Outlanders.

There were oil fields too. The oil fields were more heavily guarded than Mainland itself, so attacks on those only proved to be an annoyance to the Mainlanders. But there were still few who were loyal to the Outlander cause on the inside. That was why he and Gus had been able to sneak into the truck. That was why they probably weren’t going to have any trouble once they reached the border. This plan had taken a long time to formulate.

Nolan scooted to the side of the truck and leaned over a barrel to look through one of the thin slits. An armored truck beside them rode at a steady pace. A soldier manned the mounted machine gun at the top of the vehicle, keeping himself attentive to the possibility of an attack. The worry was warranted. In fact, Nolan had ordered plenty of such raids. Some were successful, some were not. The Outlanders needed oil and minerals too, but the Mainlanders controlled all the fields, leaving nothing for them to use. The Mainlanders made it impossible for the two groups to coexist. Instead, by taking the rich farming land, all the oil fields, and the mining sites, the Mainlanders forced the Outlanders to fight.

Nolan didn’t blame the citizens of Mainland. They didn’t know any better. They were taught day in and day out that the Outlanders were savages hell-bent on stealing from the Mainlanders and destroying their livelihood. They, unlike their government, didn’t know how much the Outlanders were struggling. The regular citizens didn’t know that they were the ones hoarding all the goods, leaving others to fend for themselves in the vast wastelands.

Earth was scarred by wars of the past. Some lands were uninhabitable. The home of the Outlanders was barely livable, but Mainland flourished. Soon, things would be different. The Mainlanders would all see the error of their ways. They would all know that they were responsible for the deaths of each and every Outlander. The Savages.

They were hardly savages, though the tattoos, markings, and clothing were difficult to get past, Nolan knew. Not all of them looked that way. Nolan didn’t subscribe to that particular fashion, but he’d also grown up as a Mainlander too—a fact that had never escaped his memory.

He continued to stare at the soldier riding in the back of the truck, his hands firmly set on the large machine gun as he scanned the horizon. There was another truck, identical to this one, on the opposite side of the carrier. Then there was one in front and behind. Technically, he and Gus were surrounded by enemies, their only friend being their driver. But Nolan knew that once they crossed the border, three of the armored trucks would break away and head off for the base or some other assignment while one of the vehicles would follow them all the way to their destination.

“I’m proud to be helping,” Gus said, cutting into Nolan’s thoughts. “I’ve been waiting for an assignment like this for a while.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep.”

“And why exactly have you wanted an assignment like this one?”

Gus tilted his flask upward until there were only burning drops trickling into his mouth. He winced and screwed the lid shut, placing the flask back into his pocket. “We all need to do our part. If we don’t do something, my family’s gonna die.”

“You have family?”

“We all do,” he said with a smile.

Of course, Nolan thought. It was sort of a mantra with the Outlanders. Even those whose immediate family were dead and gone were not without family. As a people they had to stick together. Each man was a brother. Each woman was a sister. All Outlanders were family.

“As for blood relations,” he shook his head. “Had a wife once. Lost her to the sickness.”

Nolan knew he was referring to the plague-like disease that had spread through the Outlanders like wildfire about ten years before. No one had been safe, and many people died because of it. So many lives had been taken that the six-month-long event became simply known as the sickness. If anyone had lost somebody to the sickness it was clear what he or she was talking about. Of course, during that time Nolan hadn’t been an Outlander. He was just getting his feet wet in the cesspool of the Mainland government. He had been young and stupid, but he wouldn’t have changed a thing. The work had opened his eyes. It made him see what was truly happening in the world.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Nolan said.

Gus nodded. His hand reached for his pocket before he remembered the flask was empty. Nolan wondered how many gallons of alcohol the man had gone through since he lost his wife. He wondered too about how the Council could trust a drunk, but they never made a rash decision.

Minutes passed and Nolan rested his head against a barrel behind him. He let his heavy eyelids dangle on the brink of closing. Nolan and sleep hadn’t been friends for the past few weeks leading up to today. Careful planning was almost a constant imperative and every time he and other leaders seemed to come up with the right one, they would find a flaw, scrap it, and start again.

It wasn’t long before the truck started to slow down and the pace of his heart quickened. This was the first hurdle. Sometimes the guards checked the trucks. Sometimes they didn’t. This whole operation worked under the assumption that they wouldn’t. If things were the same as they used to be, the guards would only check three out of the twenty or so trucks per day. It was always at random, but they had good chances. Still, the probability was higher than Nolan liked.

Finally, the truck came to a stop. He involuntarily moved to the side and tried to get a glimpse through the slits in the walls. Gus did the same on the other side.

“We’re here,” he whispered to Nolan.

Nolan could see the wall that went on for miles. He knew it well, having experience on both sides of it for years. Being here made him shiver. Not because he feared the guards looking in the truck but because of what this meant. If everything went the way it should, this would be one of the last times he would have to cross over the border.

“Do you see any of the guards?” Nolan asked.

“There’s a man walking up to the passenger’s side door.”

Nolan strained to listen but all he heard were muffled sounds of the men’s voices. Across from him was the guard on the back of the truck, still watching the landscape all around him. The man probably had no worries at this point. What Outlander would be stupid enough to attack a convoy so close to the wall?

Nolan moved away from the wall of the truck and leaned against the barrel again. His fingers were intertwined in front of him and he rested his forehead on his wrists. He felt a strong hand grab his shoulder.

“Don’t fret,” Gus said.

Nolan looked up at the man with a stern expression, his jaws tight and his eyebrows low.

Gus promptly let go of his shoulder. “They’ll let us through any second now.”

Nolan had no need for Gus’s encouragement and he was about to let Gus know it, but he became distracted by a shadow to his right. His body stiffened when he saw the man carrying his rifle, looking the truck up and down. He wore the Mainland uniform, desert-colored and plain. Nolan cursed to himself silently as the man made his way toward the back of the truck. Both he and Gus instinctively ducked behind the barrels in front of them.

Nolan grabbed the pistol from his belt and held it tightly, his finger resting on the trigger. He knew Gus was carrying a weapon too, but what good would a couple of guns be against troops with assault rifles and grenades? Nolan’s only chance of survival would be to surrender and show himself. He wouldn’t be killed once they recognized him. Not yet, anyway. He’d be a prize to the military and the people of Mainland—to the people who were deceived and didn’t know why he did the things he’d done in the past. Everything had been done for a reason, but no one except the Outlanders knew that. If Nolan was caught, death would only be delayed so that his execution could be made a spectacle.

He watched the back door of the truck and waited for it to be unlatched. The light would flood through and blind them, but the two would remain crouched. When the soldier or soldiers got close enough to see them, they would open fire and that would be the end.

Nolan swallowed as he stared at the door. Like the walls around him, it too had slits out the back. He wasn’t sure but maybe this used to be a truck for hauling livestock, converted for the sole purpose of transporting barrels of minerals. He nearly ducked when he saw the soldier’s shadow pass by the back. The man hesitated a moment, his feet slowly coming to a stop. Though Nolan could tell the soldier was there, he couldn’t see him very clearly. He couldn’t see his face, his eyes. He wondered if the man was thinking about opening the back to take a look. Maybe he smelled alcohol on Gus’ breath all the way from where he stood. Or maybe he was just looking at a lizard on the ground. He wanted to see the soldier’s face.

Nolan didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until the man started walking again, this time to the other side of the truck. His pace was quicker as his shadow passed beside Gus and toward the front of the truck. He heard someone yell out something inaudible again and this time the truck’s engines roared and they were back on the move. Nolan let out the stale air in his lungs, his breathing labored.

Gus laughed loud enough to make Nolan wince, but he didn’t say anything. He just watched the man who looked like he was ready to give Nolan a big pat on the back, but the older man kept his hands to himself.

“Now, that’s what I call close,” Gus said, looking out through one of the slits. “The convoy is breaking away.”

At least they had made it this far. The next move was going to be tricky, but Nolan felt more confident since they were past the wall.

They rode in silence for fifteen minutes before either of them spoke again. It happened when the truck gave a sudden jolt and Gus swore loudly.

This was the signal to get ready. The driver knew to start putting the truck into a stall when it was time for Nolan and Gus to jump ship. Nolan hated having his life in the hands of someone else. If the driver stalled too early or too late, they would be found. If he didn’t stop in exactly the right spot, they would be found. Basically, if the driver messed this up in any way, Nolan wouldn’t be long for this world. Not that he suspected he was long for the world anyway. A man didn’t lead a life like Nolan’s expecting to grow old.

The engine sputtered again, jostling the barrels. Nolan was afraid one might topple over the two of them and crack their heads, but they stayed secure.

The truck slowed to a crawl and finally it stopped on the side of the street. If the driver did what he was supposed to do, then they were in the middle of the city—in a sparsely populated area with the surrounding buildings and abandoned construction sites all around.

Gus held a finger to his lips as he reached down to the floor and pulled on a latch. The latch opened a small trap door between them. Nolan looked down and only saw axles and asphalt. He looked up at Gus.

“After you,” Gus whispered.

Nolan went feet first and got down on all fours. He looked in every direction until he saw boots on the ground, quickly making their way toward the driver of the truck.

“What’s going on?” one of the men shouted.

“I don’t know,” Nolan heard the driver say.

“Psst,” the noise came from above Nolan’s head. “Unless you want me to step on your head, I suggest you move.”

Nolan did as the man said and shimmied away from the trap door. Gus slid down until his feet were on the ground and pulled the trap door closed silently above him.

“Come on,” Gus said, pointing to the right.

The truck had stalled just where it was supposed to. From what Nolan could see, the area was crowded and the truck was right up against the curb next to a storm drain. Gus was closer and moved quickly. He took one last look from side to side before getting on his belly and sliding into the storm drain under the sidewalk.

It almost looked like the man had been swallowed by the hole as he disappeared into darkness, but he quickly revealed himself from the nose up as he waited for Nolan to follow. Nolan crawled to the edge of the truck as the driver feigned the stall. A quick glance to his left and he could see the driver in the side mirror of the truck. The man looked in Nolan’s direction once or twice.

Nolan got down on his belly and was about to crawl toward the drain when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He swore silently and recoiled, pulling himself up into a crouching position. One of the soldiers now stood on the curb side of the truck. He carried a rifle in both arms, looking from side to side as if there was something to see.

The man moved with slow steps down the side of the truck, probably not even suspecting a thing. If Nolan had to guess, he thought the soldier was bored, wishing for a moment like this to catch the smuggling that was taking place right under his nose.

Nolan found himself holding his breath again as the boots walked over the storm drain and then stopped. His heart was beating out of his chest. Had the man heard him? They had been so quiet, and the noise from the driver trying to turn over the engine was so loud.

All Nolan could see was the man’s legs spread about a foot apart and Gus’s shocked face between them. Unless the soldier was looking directly into the storm drain there would be no way that he would see Gus. But all he had to do was take a knee and look and their cover would be blown.

Nolan held tightly to his gun. They would have a better chance now that the convoy had broken up. Nolan guessed there were only three or four soldiers left. The two of them could possibly take them out if they were fast enough.

He stared at the man’s legs, tempted to put a bullet through the back of his knee and then one through the head when he fell. They could deal with the rest, especially with the cover of a storm drain.

Nolan held up his gun, staring Gus in the eyes. Could he see the man just above him? Of course he couldn’t, but he knew he was there. Gus held a finger to his lips again, this time shaking his head at Nolan. It was for the gun. He didn’t want Nolan to use the gun. But Nolan wasn’t an idiot. He was just being prepared. Still, Gus shook his head more and more. The soldier above remained in the position until…

A stream. A thin line of yellow liquid shot between the soldier’s legs and onto the edge of the storm drain. Gus fell back quickly, placing his hands in front of his face as droplets bounced off the metal and into the drain below. Nolan was finally able to breathe as the man finished his business and zipped his pants.

Then the truck engine finally turned over. The driver had done all he could to buy them time and this was Nolan’s last chance to get into the storm drain without being noticed. The soldier quickly made his way to the front of the truck and Nolan found himself on his belly again. He looked both ways and saw no soldiers. Suddenly, the truck’s giant tires started to roll and Nolan moved quickly, ignoring the urine-soaked ground as he slipped into the storm drain and fell into the darkness.

Gus’s arms wrapped around Nolan’s shoulders as he braced him, helping him onto his feet in the dank little room that served as their hiding place. The two of them looked out and toward the street as the truck moved on, followed closely behind by the soldiers. Neither of them said a word until all the vehicles were out of sight and their engines could no longer be heard.

“Well,” Gus finally said, “that was interesting.”

Nolan was the first one out of the storm drain. Once in the street, he reached down and helped pull Gus out.

“I thought he heard us,” Gus said, echoing Nolan’s thoughts at they sat on the curb. “Instead, he was just trying to take a leak on my face.”

“We caught a break,” Nolan said. “You ready for what’s next?”

“I am,” Gus said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been a broadcaster. I can get by unnoticed. You on the other hand…”

“Need to stay in the warehouse,” Nolan said. “I know. We will meet tomorrow?”

Gus nodded, but stared at the street in front of them, deep in thought. “This girl I’m supposed to snatch…you sure she’s going to help us?”

“She has to,” Nolan said.

“You know her?”

“I know her story. I know who she is. I know what she does. She’s got no love for the Outlanders, but she’s got no love for her Mainlanders either. If she sees the truth she will help us.”

Gus let out a sigh and stood, stretching his arms to the sky. “I hope you’re right. I’ll have this Hazel Hawthorn for you tomorrow.”

Nolan nodded. He hoped Gus was up for the job. Everything depended on Hazel. Without her, everything they had planned would be pointless, and the Outlanders’ chance for equality would be gone forever.

4

Hazel’s office was cold and dark, but that was the way she liked it. Esroy had given her the weather report and even suggested opening the window in the corner of the room to let in some of the spring air. The thought was nice but unnecessary. It wasn’t the sunshine or nature that Hazel didn’t like. Quite the opposite actually. She knew that if she opened a window she wouldn’t be able to concentrate. She would catch herself staring at the road and buildings beyond, wishing there were green fields like people had in the past. Instead, the asphalt streets were crumbling and the buildings were falling apart. The giant broadcast tower that stood far above any of the other buildings provided a stark reminder of the greatness this world once aspired to. Sometimes she almost wished that they didn’t have archives that revealed what the world used to be like because it painted a bleak picture of the world as it was now. Anyway, Hazel worked better in the dark—the only noticeable light coming from the computer screen in front of her and to her right.

“You seem depressed,” Esroy said.

“Why do you say that?”

“You’re not talking as much as you usually do. Your movements are fast. More frantic than usual.”

“Don’t make me turn your camera off.”

“Do what you want, I can still hear the way you’re breathing.”

“Then I’ll disconnect the microphone too,” Hazel said. It was the kind of comment that would normally be followed by a grin but she couldn’t even force it.

“That wouldn’t be very nice.”

“Esroy, I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“I thought you’d come in here beaming about the test this morning. I’m guessing things didn’t go well.”

“No,” Hazel said quickly, her eyes scanning the screen. She had the Soul program pulled up in front of her. Each number was perfect. Every sequence was right. The only thing that went wrong today was that Des had acted like he was supposed to act. He was normal. And Bracken wanted to change everything. All her work, all her studies, everything she had worked on up until this moment was finished on the whim of a soldier.

“Everything will be fine,” Esroy said. “I’m sure you’re stressing over nothing.”

“Let me ask you something, Esroy.”

“Sure.”

“If I were to turn you off, shut you down, and wipe your memory, how would you feel?”

A pause.

“You know I don’t like to joke this way, Hazel.”

“That’s what he wants me to do with the robot, Des.”

“Really? That’s horrible. What didn’t he like about it?”

“Des was afraid of the simulation,” Hazel said. She leaned back in her chair and let out a deep breath. “Bracken ordered him to go through r-16.”

“The one where the subject wakes up in the middle of the Outland? The dilapidated city?”

“Yep.”

“Wow.”

“And we weren’t even allowed to tell him it was a simulation. How would he not be scared?”

“Well, you and I have discussed our thoughts on that,” Esroy said. “That Bracken is possibly searching for a way to stop Soul in its tracks. Maybe he wants you to fail.”

“Yeah,” Hazel said, “maybe.”

“I can’t say much for the robot, but your program is the best it will ever be,” he said. “You’ve been studying me for more than two years. Not every modification you’ve made since your thesis has worked out the way you planned. Making a change now might mess everything up.”

Hazel shook her head. “He wants me to modify fear—get rid of it altogether.”

“Do you remember the time you tinkered with the anger algorithm?” Esroy asked. “I was mad for a week for no good reason.”

Hazel’s fingers tapped the desk in front of her, matching the thumping in her chest that rang out in her ears. Esroy was right. There was nothing wrong with Soul.

“Can you even take fear out of the equation?” Esroy asked. “I have not experienced life without the possibility of fear. I can no more turn it on or off than you can.”

“I can understand his fear. What if it were you? What would you feel in Des’ situation?”

“If I knew it was a simulation, I suppose I wouldn’t be too afraid,” Esroy said. “Then again, I don’t even know what it feels like to have arms and legs so I imagine I would be experiencing a whole range of thoughts. I suspect the level of fear was high for the prototype from the very beginning—before the simulation even got dangerous.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Imagine if you woke up one day and you had no memory,” Esroy said. “Of course, memory comes from experiences, so without memory you have no experiences on which to reflect. Sure, you might know what a simulator is, but to have never experienced it probably won’t erase your fear. For a second, you’re wondering how to use your fingers, you’re trying to understand your joints, and in the next you’re in a war zone, climbing some tower. Don’t you think the level of fear would be high?”

Hazel sighed again, staring at the list of numbers and equations in front of her. Erasing the emotion altogether wasn’t an option. So many emotions tagged along with others. Fear linked with all of the negative emotions. Taking it out would affect helplessness, worry, doubt…the list seemed endless. Without fear, the robot could be reckless. And if robots of this kind were meant to be in the battlefield then some restraint would be welcomed. Without fear they might become too unpredictable.

“I’m not going to destroy Des,” Hazel said. “Bracken must understand that I won’t do that to him.”

“Him?” Esroy said, a slight cheeriness in his voice. “What makes Des a him?”

“You’re a him,” Hazel said.

“Only because of the voice you chose for me,” Esroy said. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have the parts necessary to be classified as a male or female. I’m little more than your simple program traveling through wires.”

“How am I any different?” Hazel asked. “We share the same emotions based on different experiences.”

“We are different because you are free,” Esroy said. “You can actually have experiences.”

Hazel shook her head. “Don’t start again, Esroy. I’m not putting you into a robot. Not until I know it’s safe.”

“You know I have to remind you from time to time.”

“You don’t have to remind me,” she said, biting her lip. “You know as well as I do what could happen if something goes wrong in the transfer. It’s a massive amount of data. Losing any of it could leave you ruined. And what if I accidentally deleted you?”

“You mean killed me?”

“Of course that’s what I mean,” Hazel said.

“It’s something that could be avoided if you hadn’t implemented the clean transfer protocol.”

Ethics. It was something that had been brought into question when completing her thesis at the university. Knowing that her program was perfect, knowing that the program was almost identical to true human emotions, professors demanded that Hazel always have a clean copy of the program without any added experiences, and that when transferring one used program to a different machine, there could not be two copies. Esroy had gained more than two years of experiences already. To simply copy him to another machine would create two Esroys—the one still stuck in the computer and the one copied to another machine, be it a robot or something else. The Esroy that Hazel knew and had gained a relationship with over the past two years wouldn’t be in the new machine. It would be a new Esroy, but one with the same memories as the first. It would immediately begin to change as a person as it experienced life from a different perspective. In the end it would be a completely different person. The only way to avoid creating two personalities would be to have a clean transfer without making a copy. But a clean transfer was risky. If something were to go wrong—a power outage, accidentally hitting the wrong button—Esroy as Hazel knew him would be gone forever.

“You know why I had to do it, Esroy,” Hazel said.

“But you still don’t know what would happen if I was copied,” he said.

“One of two things.”

“Yes. Either my consciousness stays behind with the computer, or my consciousness transfers to another, leaving behind the same, yet a different consciousness. Essentially a clone.”

“But there is strong evidence to suggest that you would remain in the computer,” Hazel said.

“In which case you delete the one that isn’t me.”

“But how would I know?” Hazel asked. “The both of you would instinctually want to survive. Both of you would tell me that you are the real Esroy. Besides, deleting one of you is killing you. It’s wrong. It’s inhumane.”

“But I am just a machine,” Esroy said.

Hazel knew he was being coy, trying to get a rise out of her. She wondered if he was just bored. She couldn’t remember how many times they had had this conversation. Someday the computer Esroy occupied would start to die out and they would be forced to try a clean transfer. But it wasn’t happening any time soon. Besides, there was much more to worry about today than Esroy’s desire to leave the computer and live within a humanoid robot.

“I’m just a machine too, Esroy. I just happen to run a different way.”

“I know you see it that way,” Esroy said. “Others don’t.”

“They will. Someday they will.” She stood from her desk and started gathering her things.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to meet Des face-to-face, let him know I’m real. I know he’s still scared. Maybe I can calm him a bit.”

“What about Bracken?”

“I can hold Bracken off for a little bit, but not forever,” Hazel said, slipping on a light jacket. She grabbed her lanyard from the desk, her keycard attached to the end.

“He’s a hard man to please,” she said.

“And he doesn’t like artificial intelligence,” Esroy said.

Hazel hated the term. There was nothing artificial about it. Esroy felt things. His feelings could be hurt. He could feel angry. He reacted in ways that people reacted. There was something more to Soul than just algorithms and equations.

Hazel believed the program lived up to its name. In a way, she felt like she had truly created a soul. Now it was time to meet her second creation: Des.

5

No one ever knocked on John’s door. Even when he got a delivery, people knew to leave food from the street markets or whatever else he might have ordered on the back porch without so much as a light tapping. He’d trained them well enough that even their replacements knew the procedure. He thought for a brief moment that it could have been his daughter but quickly waved the thought away since the knocking came from the front door—that and she made it a point not to visit without him having to make up some catastrophic reason. It was never enough to say that he wanted to see her. The matter always had to be of dire importance. He would, of course, try to come up with something to entice her to come back home, but it usually resulted in her scolding him and telling him that she was too busy for such calls. To be fair, she lived in the middle of Mainland, so it took her more than a long time to travel across the city by train.

John’s next thought was that the knocking could have been some salesperson that had clearly gotten lost. How lost would a salesperson have to be to knock on his door? No. The only thing someone would be selling in this neighborhood was drugs and they wouldn’t be going door-to-door.

“Shall I answer it?” Gizmo asked in his usual cheery tone.

“You don’t have X-ray vision do you?” John asked.

“Of course not, sir!” The little robot let off a short chuckle.

“So, drive on over to the door and see who it is,” John told him.

“Right away, sir!”

“Gizmo, wait.” He sat at the kitchen table and out of sight from the front door. He knew the place was messy with odds and ends scattered over every countertop, but he knew what and where each piece was. First of all, he didn’t want to have to clean up for anyone, second, he didn’t want anyone to mess with his things. Every little screw, every tool, every utensil, every piece of furniture, and even every potted plant throughout the house was in the exact place it was supposed to be. All it would take was one person dumb enough to pick up a screwdriver and set it on an end table and John would be on his hands and knees looking for it for days. Sure, Gizmo would be able to help to an extent, but he had learned from experience that it was usually better to give the little robot as few responsibilities as possible. If John told Gizmo to search for a tool, he’d lose more items in the process. John would then yell at him and feel guilty because the dumb thing could only respond with a happy voice, assuring John that everything would be all right.

“How long should I wait?” asked Gizmo.

“Just don’t let them in.”

“I would be glad not to let them in, sir.”

Gizmo rolled out of the kitchen and toward the living room. John stood and reached an arm out until he felt the wall. He groped along until his fingers wrapped around the edge of the opening and stuck his head far out enough just so his ears could pick up the visitor’s voice.

He heard the gears moving as Gizmo’s arm extended toward the doorknob, grabbed it, and twisted. “Hello!” Gizmo said. “How may I be of service to you?”

There was a long silence. John imagined Gizmo standing in the doorway patiently staring up at whoever it was that had come for a visit. Finally, a man’s voice responded. It was deep and raspy—a mysterious sound that sent shivers up and down John’s spine.

“I’m looking for Hazel Hawthorn. Is this her home?”

“It is,” Gizmo said. “Well, it used to be. You are welcome to wait on the porch as I go and get her father. Please wait.”

He was looking for Hazel? Why? John could hear Gizmo turning and moving back toward the kitchen, his wheels spinning along the wooden floor.

Dumb robot left the door wide open, John thought to himself.

When Gizmo rolled back into the kitchen, John cursed quietly. “You really need to learn how to lie.”

“Why would I lie?”

“That or read social cues,” John said. “You know I don’t like visitors.”

“I am programmed with a limited ability to read social cues,” Gizmo said. “If you would like me to get better with such things, then perhaps an upgrade is in order.”

John almost kicked the robot in its rectangular head. Its voice always sounded like someone who was speaking with a constant smile on his face, only Gizmo couldn’t smile because it didn’t technically have a face. There was a rectangle box with two cameras positioned to make it look like it had eyes and a tiny opening at the base of its head where sound came out. All of this was originally meant to make it seem like less of a robot, but this machine was flawed to its core and John was tempted to throw it out with the trash on an almost constant basis. But he could never bring himself to do it. If anything the robot kept the house from feeling lonely, and in some small way it made him feel closer to his daughter. She had programmed Gizmo after all.

“What does he look like?” John whispered. “Have you seen him before?”

“I didn’t get a good look,” Gizmo answered. “The sun was behind him.”

John sighed. “Go back and tell him that Hazel hasn’t lived here in years.”

“Should I tell him the exact date she left?”

“Of course not,” John snapped in a harsh whisper. “Just do what I say.”

“Gladly.” Gizmo spun around and moved slowly toward the door. John heard it stop suddenly. “Oh! Please wait on the front porch. I think you will be comfortable there.”

“Is her father home?” the raspy voice asked.

“John is not feeling well today.”

“John? Where is he?”

The robot hesitated and John’s teeth clenched together. What was this man doing in his house? Gizmo could do little to stop an intruder—something John had been meaning to fix over the years by installing an alarm but he was afraid the robot would call the authorities every time a delivery was made.

John tiptoed toward the kitchen sink and felt for the large kitchen knife to the right of it. It was long and sharp enough to pierce a man’s heart, only John knew he would have better luck swinging for the jugular than aiming for the heart.

The man in the other room had sidestepped the robot and made his way toward the kitchen. The rubber soles pounded against the wood slowly but with determined steps. In the seconds before the man came into the kitchen, John tried to guess who he could be. He rarely had contact with anyone. There were few people who even knew Hazel used to live here, and none of them would be this impolite. The thought struck him that perhaps this man was an old boyfriend that Hazel never told him about and he was angry about something. But that thought went away as quickly as it had come. The voice sounded way too old for Hazel’s taste.

He held firmly to the knife and waited. He could sense the man had entered the room and not just by the sound of his boots on the hardwood. There was a presence that almost felt evil. The footsteps ceased and the man stood in the doorway. His breath was slow and steady. Gizmo’s gears worked into overdrive as it tried various ways to get past the man and into the kitchen.

“It’s so much fun that you’re playing the quiet game,” Gizmo said, “but it really would be nice to wait outside. It’s lovely out today.”

John heard a thump and the sound of wheels spinning with no resistance. The man had knocked Gizmo onto its side.

“Oh, this is great!” Gizmo nearly shouted. “Pushing myself back onto my wheels is always a fun challenge.” To anyone else this might have sounded sarcastic, but John knew it wasn’t. If his daughter had been meaning to torture him with Gizmo’s personality then she was more than a genius.

“John,” the man said. “Why’re you holding a knife?”

“You’re an intruder. I don’t know who you are.”

“I’m not an intruder. I’m just here to ask you some questions.”

“Sounds to me like you’re looking for my daughter. If you come in peace then you can knock like a regular human being and wait to be invited inside.” John’s grip on the knife was tighter than before. He knew he stood little chance against anyone who might wish him harm, but he’d at least injure him.

“I need to know where she is.”

John could feel blood rushing to his cheeks. He half-considered charging at the man, swinging all the way. But he remained calm.

“Why do you need to know that?”

“Come on, John. It would be in your best interest if you worked with me here.”

“Who wants to know?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

The man sighed. “You’re not going to tell me no matter who I am.”

“Then why are you asking me?”

The man remained silent for a few long seconds. Swallowed, then spoke slowly. “I just thought I might as well try.” He walked slowly, heel to toe, heel to toe until he was on the other side of the room. “I imagine her address is written somewhere around here.”

“Then you’re a fool,” John said, trying his best to keep the man in front of him by following his movements. “What kind of man in my condition keeps written notes?”

“Maybe the information is stored in your little robot here.”

“That would be lovely.” Gizmo said as he pushed itself back onto its wheels. “But I’m afraid it isn’t.”

John could hear the man’s teeth grinding.

“Listen,” John said, “if you came here to just rob me, you would come out ahead. There’s little I will do to try and stop you. But if you want something from my daughter, then you better kill me now, because I will come after you with everything I’ve got.”

The man let out a wheezing laugh until it turned into a deep cough. Finally, he took more steps, only this time he was walking toward John. John stiffened and held the knife with a white-knuckled grip. The man stopped when he was only inches from him. All John had to do was stab the man, slice him through the throat and this would be finished. He had the training. He had been in plenty of fights. But what if he missed? What if the man dodged it? His aim wasn’t like it used to be and for good reason. Surely the man would kill John. His arms were frozen in front of him and the man knew it.

He could smell the stench of alcohol on the man’s breath as he talked. “Go ahead John. Take a jab, see what happens.”

John imagined that the man was holding open his jacket or sticking his chest out in defiance. John could do it. He could try at least. But fear kept him frozen in place. If he didn’t resist, if he didn’t try to kill the man, then surely he would live. Then, he’d get a chance to warn his daughter and tell her that someone was looking for her.

“Why don’t you set the knife in the sink, John?”

The helplessness he felt wasn’t right. No man should feel this level of fear in his own home. No man should be forced to give up so easily. But he told himself over and over that giving in was the best thing for his daughter. His wrist trembled as he reached behind him and let the knife clank to the bottom of the metal sink.

“Now, that’s better isn’t it?”

John wanted to choke the man to death. He wanted to jump on top of him and pulverize his head until there was nothing left. He could have done it a few years ago. Now he could barely make it from the kitchen to the toilet without running into something, much less have the coordinated ability to fight a man.

“I want to know where your daughter is, John.”

“My daughter isn’t close to me anymore. She never gave me her new address.” Saying the words out loud nearly sent tears to his eyes. He’d known the truth that his daughter didn’t want anything to do with him, though it wasn’t just him. It was this house. This neighborhood. This whole part of the city. All of the treasured memories this home once provided had been erased in a single day. They had tried to make it work over the years, but his daughter had moved on. Their friends and neighbors had moved on too. It seemed, at times, that John was the only one who never had the ability to move on. The question that always festered in his mind was what was there to move on to? Everything he had ever wanted was here. Everything he had ever wanted had been taken away from him except for his daughter, and now she was slipping away more and more. On less optimistic days he would say that she had already slipped completely from his grip.

“Then perhaps you wouldn’t mind if I looked around the house? I understand your condition. I’m sure she probably left some record of her address around here somewhere and never told you.”

The man walked away from John and out of the kitchen. It would do no good to tell him that he most certainly did mind if he looked around the house. This man was going to do whatever he wanted.

A loud crash from the living room made John jump. Gizmo rolled toward the area, happy to let the man know that it would be honored to clean up the mess. Crash after crash, John stood next to the kitchen sink as the man turned the entire house upside down. He wouldn’t find anything. He wasn’t lying when he said his daughter didn’t leave anything here. That is, she didn’t to John’s knowledge.

Gizmo basically gave John the play-by-play from every room the man entered.

Oh, I can help you put that chair back in its place.

Don’t worry about those candles, John never uses them anyway.

That china is very old, but sturdy. Well, not that sturdy! Don’t worry about it! I can help clean!

The man didn’t say anything when he left. He simply opened the front door and closed it gently behind him.

“What a riot,” Gizmo said as it came back into the kitchen. “It’s a good thing I don’t require sleep. This cleanup will take days.”

John’s heartbeat hadn’t slowed since the man walked into the house. He didn’t know what he felt exactly. There was a mixture of anger and fear. But mostly, he was worried about Hazel.

6

The potbellied guard was ready for Hazel when she approached him. They’d seen each other plenty of times before as she passed to and from the robotics lab, but this time he stood in the way with his large arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m sorry,” the guard said as Hazel approached. “I’m not allowed to let you through.”

Hazel was confused at first, thinking the guard hadn’t seen her clearance card right. She flipped it over, gave it a glance, and turned it back to him. “It’s a level five clearance,” Hazel said.

“And this room has just been upped to a level six,” the guard said. He took a deep breath and placed his fat fingers on his belt, trying his best to show he wasn’t the only one with confidence.

Hazel shook her head and took a deep breath. She could feel blood rushing to her cheeks as frustration and anger flooded into her. Either this guard was mistaken or he was stupid.

“This room has never been a level six,” she said.

“It is now.”

“Says who?”

“My boss.”

“Who’s your boss?”

“Allen Russell. He’s the lead guard in this sector of the compound. If you have a problem with your clearance level I suggest you either take it up with your boss or take it up with mine.” He ended the sentence with a smile as if to say it was a pleasure talking with her.

Hazel wanted to slap the smile off his face. She knew what was going on here. Bracken didn’t want her to have access to Des. He didn’t want her to try and stop them from wiping his memory clean and starting again. She walked up next to the guard and swiped her keycard through the slot, only to be answered with a red light.

“Listen,” she said, “there has been some mistake. I’m in charge of the robot’s programming. My job is to be in that lab.”

“This isn’t programming, ma’am. This is robotics. I can tell you where to find programming if you need. I’m sorry, but I have orders.”

“I can tell you where to stick your orders,” Hazel said, trying to keep herself from snarling viciously.

“I guess it’s true what they say about you,” the guard said, still smiling.

Hazel’s eyes squinted at him and she crossed her arms. “And what exactly do they say about me?”

The guard shook his head and let out a short chuckle. “That your temper is as fiery as your red hair.”

“And who exactly are they?”

The guard swallowed, probably considering he might be saying too much, but he finally decided it didn’t matter. “The ones that told me not to let you into the robotics lab.”

Hazel took a step forward. The fat guard was about a foot taller than her. Sure, he had a gun and baton, but he wouldn’t touch her. She could knee the guy in the crotch and he wouldn’t do anything to her because if he did, he would be out of a job. She’d get in a lot of trouble, but she almost thought it was worth it.

“Who said I couldn’t be in the robotics lab?”

“Allen Russell, ma’am. He’s the lead guard in this sector of the com—”

“Okay, shut up,” Hazel said, turning away from the guard. She took a few steps down the hall, wondering who it was she should talk to. She looked at her watch and pressed a button on the side. The screen glowed and she tapped out a short message.

Guards aren’t letting me through to robotics. Can you find anything?

She waited for Esroy to get back to her. This line of communication had been invaluable for the last year. It was directly connected to her computer and the best way she could talk with Esroy when she was away from her office.

Seems that it has been upped to level six. I am looking for a source, but there is no reason given within the network.

She looked back at the guard. “You know, I’ll only be a minute. You can watch me if you want.”

“Hazel?”

She spun around quickly. Roger had stopped in the middle of the hallway, staring with a confused look on his face.

“What are you doing?” he asked, walking a few paces forward.

She took a couple of steps toward Roger and held up her keycard. “Someone’s changed the clearance level.”

“Yeah,” he said. “That was Bracken.”

“Wait a second,” Hazel said. “You were bumped to level six?”

“Limited six,” he answered. “Just for the lab.”

“And why has the lab clearance been changed?”

He shook his head. “No idea.”

“Well, can you let me in?” She pointed a thumb at the guard behind her. “Chief here won’t let me in because I’m still a level five. Bracken must have forgotten to change mine.”

Roger lifted an eyebrow and walked past her toward the guard. “You think he forgot or that he just wants you away from Prototype D?”

Hazel looked at the guard who was now starting to sweat. Maybe she was making him angry. Maybe it was too hot in the hallway. She wasn’t just going to let them wipe Des’ memory. She needed to study Des—to talk to him. Some low-level guard wasn’t going to keep her from getting in that room.

Roger held up his card to show the guard who nodded him through. Roger then swiped it and the door unlocked. He held it open for just a moment while he looked back at Hazel who still stood in the middle of the hallway. She could tell he didn’t want to let her in. She knew she would never repay the courtesy, and would only serve as a distraction to him. He had been tasked with destroying the robot’s hard drive and installing a new one. He knew Hazel wouldn’t like that. Still, he watched her standing there in her helplessness. She knew that Roger rarely found himself in a position like this and Hazel didn’t like it. She resented having to ask Roger for help. Mostly, she despised him even though under normal circumstances he would do almost anything to help her. Maybe it was a crush. Maybe not. Regardless, all he had to do was say the word and she was in the lab with him.

Roger looked from her to the guard and then tapped him on the shoulder. “Protocol says I’m allowed to bring a level five in here without clearance.”

The guard swallowed again.

“Why don’t you let Hazel through for a minute?”

The guard looked back and forth between Roger and Hazel. He wiped another large bead of sweat from his cheek. “I have to let my superior know.”

Roger held up a hand. “Can you give it five minutes? I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding.” He looked up at Hazel. “I’m sure she doesn’t plan to be in here for very long.”

“No!” Hazel said as she took small steps forward. “I will be in and out. I just have to check something on the robot that I’ve been hired to program.”

“Five minutes,” the guard said. “Five minutes and I’m calling Allen.”

“Thank you!” Hazel started to reach out and touch his arm—a true gesture of appreciation—but the guard held his hands up and shook his head vigorously.

“Just go,” he said.

Hazel did as she was told and Roger held the door open for her. As she walked through the door, she glanced back at the guard who took a deep breath and wiped his entire forehead with his sleeve.

“What exactly is your plan here?” Roger asked as he set his bag in his desk chair.

“Where is he? Where’s Des?” Her eyes scanned the giant laboratory. She ignored computers, large tables with giant pieces of robotic equipment, and the general clutter that took up most of the space. She half-expected Des to be turned off, propped up in a desk chair, made to look like he was another worker at his computer. “Do you people ever clean up in here?”

“It’s a robotics lab,” Roger said. “What do you expect?”

“I want to see Des,” Hazel said.

This was a turn of events for Roger. The only power he’d ever had was overseeing his own lab—a group of recruits who weren’t good enough to make it into the university and never took this job as seriously as they were meant to. Hazel was sure that if they were ever observed closely by Bracken that half of his team would be fired within an hour, so it was a good thing that Prototype D was a mechanical success. Otherwise, it would be Roger that was in hot water and not Hazel.

“First of all,” Roger said, “there’s a reason you’re not supposed to be in here. Second of all, why do you care about seeing the robot?”

Hazel didn’t want to explain herself to Roger. “Why does Bracken care if I see Des?”

“He wants you focusing on the new version of Soul. To him, Des is broken.”

“He isn’t broken. He’s normal. Bracken just wants me to produce a killing machine, but that’s not what I signed on to do.”

“With all due respect, that is what you signed on to do. What do you think signing on with the government—the military—means? You didn’t think you’d be making robotic janitors did you?”

“I signed on to program these robots with real human emotions, so they can be free to make decisions and be successful on the battlefield.” She only noticed that her voice was getting louder when Roger looked at the door. Still, she kept going. “Bracken doesn’t understand that removing fear screws up the entire program.”

“He does understand,” Roger said. “That’s why he’s giving you two days to do it. He wants a quick turnaround to test Prototype D again and then move onto the next robot.”

“That’s another thing that bugs me,” she said. “What is this other robot? Bracken mentioned it. I didn’t know you had created anything past Des.”

Roger turned away from her and grabbed for his bag in the chair. He opened it, started rummaging through, acting preoccupied. “I uh… I don’t know.”

Hazel looked down at his hands going through the bag, randomly shuffling through pages and folders. “You’re not even looking at anything,” she said. “You’re just pretending to be busy.”

Roger sighed deeply and stood straight, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m not supposed to talk to you about this, Hazel.”

“What?”

“We call it Prototype E, even though it’s not technically a prototype.”

“What is it?”

“He loved the design of D, but he now wants to see one all decked out with implanted guns, a jetpack—all the bells and whistles that D doesn’t have. He said now that we’ve perfected the simple structure he wants to see a real soldier.”

“This is ridiculous,” she said. “It would take months just to come up with the plans. Drawings. Blueprints.”

“Already done,” Roger said. “That was actually my first project when I signed on here, but Bracken didn’t want us to start on that before we perfected the basics. And that’s all Prototype D is—a basic machine. Prototype E, however, is the real fighting machine. Every calibration we’ve made with A, B, C, and finally D, has been made on E.”

“So, this monster machine is supposed to be programed with Soul, only without fear?”

“Yep.”

“Does that not sound crazy to anybody else?” She needed air. She felt like she was working with a bunch of lunatics. None of them understood the basics of human emotions and how they related to each other, and to create a deadly robot without fear was just…nuts.

“My job isn’t to inquire about the sanity of my orders,” Roger said. “My job is to make robots. I’m sorry that as a soldier I don’t have the luxury of disputing the orders of my superior officers.”

“I want to see it,” Hazel said.

“See what?”

“E. I want to see it.”

“It’s shut off.”

“That’s fine. I just want to see what you’ve been working on without me knowing.”

Roger shook his head and muttered something under his breath about a court martial, but he spun on his heel and stormed toward the other side of the room. “Follow me.”

Hazel sped up behind him until he came to the large vault where the prototypes were usually stored. Roger opened a keypad and punched in a code. The doors started to open slowly and the light revealed the massive robot.

It was bigger than Des, but the basic layout was the same. It had less of a human face and its armor was thicker and heavier. Most of it was painted red, unlike Des who was mostly all gray.

“Okay, so other than how giant you’ve made this thing, what’s so special about it?”

“Everything,” Roger said. “Look here.” He pointed at the robot’s arms. “His right arm is equipped with bullets. It’s lined all the way up to his shoulders with ammo. His left arm is loaded with rockets. This guy will never need a weapon, though he’s agile enough to use one.”

Hazel walked around the robot, looking it up and down from every angle. She pointed to a large bulge on its back. “What’s this?”

“A jetpack,” Roger said with a smile. “I’m pretty proud of that one. We’ve already tested it out and it works perfectly.”

“How long can it stay in the air?”

“It carries compressed fuel packs that can keep him in the air for hours at a time. It’s got enough fuel in it to last through week-long battles”

“Wouldn’t that make it susceptible to explosions?”

“If his armor wasn’t so strong, sure. This one’s made of the same stuff Prototype D is made of, only more of it. It stands a good foot taller than D and has the firepower of a small tank. You put a thousand of these things in the Outland, you won’t have any more Outlanders to worry about.”

“And how exactly does the government plan to pay for all of them?”

Roger shrugged. “That’s not my problem. Is Prototype E expensive? Sure. Is it worth it to have them for protection? That’s up to Bracken and President Morris.”

Hazel shook her head and started walking away from the robot. Clearly it was better, but seeing it only made her feel worse about programing it with Soul.

“What’s wrong with you?” Roger said as he punched in another code to lock E back up.

Hazel had her back to him and simply stared across the messy room. “We’re about to put human emotions into that thing. And for some reason everyone else thinks it’s a good idea.”

“It’s a great idea,” Roger said.

“And what if they turn on us?” she said, spinning to face Roger as he approached.

“You really think that can happen?”

“They can think for themselves, right?”

“Can’t you program them to only want to fight for us?”

It was a question she had been asked a million times by a million different people. The answer was always no, but it was more complicated than the simple word suggested. She could try to program such a loyalty, but it would interfere with the rest of the interface. That was part of why she stood against the idea of taking away fear. Every small tweak affected the entire program. Besides, it wasn’t right to take away its choice of loyalty.

“That question comes with a complicated answer,” she finally said. “Where’s my robot?”

“Your robot?”

“Where is he?”

“What exactly do you plan to do with it?”

“Talk to him. See how he’s holding up.”

Roger’s eyes narrowed at her and he spoke his next words slowly. “To see how he’s holding up? It’s a robot. You can’t become attached to a machine like this.”

She wasn’t hearing him. She was done explaining to everyone just how perfect the Soul program really was. To treat Des like a simple machine was no different than to do the same thing to a person. She would never be able to explain that to anyone. They had never met Esroy. They didn’t know how he thought, how he expressed his feelings and had concerns.

“Where is he?” she asked again.

Roger swallowed and shook his head. “In the back room.”

She didn’t hesitate to start walking and Roger followed closely behind. “Please don’t tell me you turned him off.”

“Of course I did,” Roger said. “Remotely.”

“Why of course?” Hazel said as she brushed past desks full of papers and odd junk.

“He could break me in half. If he was angry or something I didn’t want him to try to take me out. He’s built to fight after all.”

Hazel had been to the back room before. It was less of a back room and more of a testing chamber. The walls were metal and bare with more odds and ends scattered throughout. When Roger unlocked the door, she stepped in and saw there was more clutter than ever before.

“You really need a cleaning service,” she said.

“It gets messy building these things.”

He flipped a switch and the white lights flickered to life, producing a low hum throughout the large room. Hazel almost gasped when she saw Des in the middle of the room, strapped to what looked like a gurney that was tilted upright. His face seemed blank and his eyes dark.

“I wish you wouldn’t have turned him off,” Hazel said.

“Why?”

“It creates blank spots,” she said. “Black lapses in memory. It’s like putting someone in a coma.”

Roger shrugged, not really getting her point. “People go into comas all the time. We sleep every night. Nothing bad happens.”

“You equipped Des to have a resting mode, right? That would be more like sleep. A person doesn’t just black out for hours or days at a time. You don’t know what kind of psychological damage it could do to him.”

“Great,” Roger said, “your robot’s going to go insane.” He shook his head at her. “I’m supposed to wipe his internal memory, Hazel. What’s the point of waking him up?”

“I want to talk to him,” she said. “And I want you here with me. I’m convinced that you won’t be able to do it once you’ve heard him.”

“Why are you trying to make my job harder?”

“Turn him on,” Hazel said.

There was little more protest in Roger. He grabbed a set of tools and stepped toward the lifeless robot. Hazel couldn’t help but stare as he worked. She was enamored by his construction. The thought of him coming to life in front of her was disconcerting, but fascinating at the same time. She was used to the program working because of Esroy, but to see it working in a functioning, moving robot would be something else. Sure, she had seen him in the simulation room but that was different. She was about to look into his eyes—to make a connection. To Des, Hazel was nothing more than a voice in his ear, a picture in his archived memory.

Roger’s fingers worked gently to remove the back plate from Des’ head, revealing a mass of wiring. With only a few movements he could accomplish his orders by disabling Des forever, but a sharp stare from Hazel kept him from it. He pressed an exposed button that had been protected underneath a secondary plate. A voice from Des’ audio output demanded an activation code.

Roger looked up at Hazel and shrugged. “This is programming’s department. Usually I have the code on a screen in front of me.”

The voice barked the order out a second time. “Please state the activation code.”

“Zero-three-three-one-one-five-nine-six,” Hazel said, not hesitating.

Des’ blue eyes shined brightly as he awoke from his blackout—his coma, and stared directly at Hazel.

7

The last time Des was awake he was in a white room of nothingness. Without warning everything had turned black. He couldn’t remember anything between that moment and now. Now he was strapped to a bed that was standing upright. He could sense someone behind him but couldn’t tell who it was. He recognized the person in front of him, but he didn’t know her. She was the one from the picture—the woman with red hair and bright green eyes. She was smiling at him. Not the fake, forced smile from the picture, but a genuinely happy smile. That is, as far as he could tell. All he had to go on was the information stored in the archives.

“Hi Des,” she said to him.

“Hazel.”

For some reason she covered her mouth with both hands. Her eyes started to turn wet and Des was not sure why.

“You remember me?” she asked.

Anger. He could feel it coming on quickly. She was the one that might have the answers to his questions. “Who is behind me?”

“Oh, sorry.” It was a man’s voice. “I’m just refastening your head plate.” A few more noises and the man finally moved around in front of the robot. His hair was greasy and he seemed a little unhealthy. His skin was pale and he was too thin for most humans. “I’m Roger.”

Des knew the straps holding him to the gurney wouldn’t remain intact if he decided he wanted to leave. He was not sure why they saw the need to tie him down, but if it made them feel better, then he supposed he understood.

“What is happening to me?” he asked. “One minute I’m falling from a tower and the next I’m in a white room. I thought I died.”

“I am so sorry about that, Des,” Hazel said. “You were in the simulation room.”

“Simulation room?”

Roger spoke next. “It’s a program—meant to create a realistic environment.”

“If it had been up to us,” Hazel said, “you wouldn’t have been in there.”

“It wasn’t up to you?” Des asked.

“No.”

“I’m not dead?”

“No.”

“Why am I tied down?”

Hazel and Roger looked at each other. Roger spoke. “I was afraid you might be angry when we turned you on.”

“I am angry.”

“And that can be dangerous,” Roger said.

Des knew it wasn’t the most logical way to communicate, but perhaps it would be effective. He used the strength of the metal within him along with the hydraulic tension to push his legs and arms upward until either the straps ripped or the gurney broke into pieces.

The straps gave first with a loud popping noise followed by the sound of shredding fabric. Hazel and Roger took cautious steps back, both of them turning even whiter as Des stood over them.

“If I was a danger,” he said, “then I would have already done something dangerous.”

“You’re not going to hurt us?” Roger said.

“Why would I resort to violence? You haven’t done anything to me.”

“You don’t know that,” Hazel said.

Roger nudged her sharply.

“I just want answers. Starting with why I have no memory of the last several hours.”

“You were turned off,” Hazel said. “It wasn’t our choice. Our boss ordered it.”

“Why?”

“Do you remember climbing the tower?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“You froze, Des.”

He thought about the moment when fear crept into him, when his millions of electronic receptors began to shake at a near microscopic level. It had started when he saw that man get hit with a shard of glass and then fall to the ground in a bloody pile. What living being wouldn’t have frozen in place?

“I was afraid. I didn’t know it was a simulation.”

“That was the point,” Hazel said. “Bracken wanted you to be fresh. He wanted to see how you worked.”

“And I didn’t pass the test?”

Hazel shook her head.

An awkward feeling hung in the air. None of them really knew what should be said, if anything at all. Des had questions, but he felt that he was pushing his luck by asking so many. But it wasn’t enough to just sit back and take what they were telling him in stride. So, he spoke up again.

“What happens to me now?”

Roger obviously didn’t like the way Hazel looked at him, like she was waiting for him to give the bad news. He looked at the ground as if he didn’t want to look Des in the eyes and tell him the truth of his fate.

“We’re going to have to shut you down again,” Roger said with a thick swallow. He held up a hand quickly. “But only temporarily until we can figure everything out.”

Des shook his head. “No.”

“What do you mean no?” Roger asked.

“I mean that you’re lying,” Des said. “Your blood pressure is rising. Your breathing is abnormal. You’re not telling me everything.”

“Tell him the truth,” Hazel said.

Roger looked up from the ground, his eyes wide. Apparently, the truth was bad, otherwise he wouldn’t be so afraid to tell it. “The truth will make it angry.”

“It’s already angry,” Des said. He was finding it difficult to like Roger. His opinion of Hazel was yet to be determined. He turned to her. “You tell me.”

“They don’t want to shut you down temporarily,” she said. “Bracken wants to shut you down forever. To fry your hard drive and start again.”

“To kill me,” Des said.

Hazel nodded. “People don’t look at you as a living creature yet, Des. Only I do, really.”

“I don’t understand. I’m here. I am alive.”

“I uh…I need to step out for a minute,” Roger said, still staring at the ground.

Des watched Roger curiously as he moved toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Hazel asked.

Roger didn’t answer. Instead, he kept moving and was soon out of sight and in the main room.

“Listen, Des. You have to understand that you are a very new phenomenon to people like us. Bracken doesn’t understand you. No one understands you.”

“Except you,” Des said.

“Except me.”

“Then you understand why I can’t just let them shut me down.”

“You have a survival instinct, I know. As you should.”

“Then you know that I’ve got to stop Roger before he shuts me down remotely.”

Hazel’s eyes went wide and she bolted for the door, Des on her heels. He was nearly a foot taller and was able to look over her at the room beyond. There in the middle was Roger tapping away at the keys at his computer terminal.

Des gently grabbed Hazel’s shoulder and tugged, pulling her out of the way with ease. His steps were far less gentle as he stomped toward the man that meant to shut him down. Roger worked frantically. Des heard Hazel’s voice calling out behind him as he moved forward.

“Roger, just back away from the computer! You’ve got to stop!”

Roger looked up briefly and did a double take when he noticed how close Des was to him. His once panicked fingers slowly came to a stop as the robot towered over him.

“No,” Roger said, just above a whisper.

Des struck like a snake, reaching down and grabbing the man by the neck then lifting him in the air above his own head.

“Des, no!” Hazel shouted. She was much closer to him now, but he paid her no attention.

Roger’s face turned purple and he looked like he was trying to say something. Des knew that another ounce of pressure would crush the man’s windpipe. And why shouldn’t he? Roger was trying to kill him—to end his life like it was nothing. Why not eliminate the threat?

He eased his grip just a little, allowing enough air through for Roger to form words.

“I’m just fol—following orders.”

“Then I have a problem with the person who gives you orders.”

“Brack—Bracken!”

Des wanted to do it. He wanted to kill Roger. If he let the man go, what would stop him from coming back to the computer and killing Des remotely? Then another thought entered his mind. If he killed Roger, then someone else would just shut him down. In fact, there would be even more reason to do so. Des would be a murderer.

He opened his fingers and Roger fell to the floor. The man gasped for air and began coughing uncontrollably. Des glanced behind him at Hazel. She stared at the robot like he was a monster—as if she wouldn’t have done the same thing if it was she that was about to be killed. No. A monster would have ripped Roger’s head off his shoulders. Looking back at the man writhing on the floor, Des hesitated. Maybe he was a monster.

“We can figure this out,” Hazel said.

“Figure what out exactly?” Roger said, now on all fours.

Hazel bent down to one knee. “I need to research Des, and Bracken is not going to let me do that. I need you to make it look like we’ve terminated him.”

Roger glanced up at her, his eyebrows turned down sharply and his mouth hanging open. “This thing just tried to kill me.”

“You and I both know that’s not true,” Hazel said. “If he wanted to kill you you’d be dead already.”

Des watched Hazel work—the way she talked so convincingly, so passionately. She was standing up for Des, and he didn’t even know her. He supposed, however, that she knew everything about him. She was his creator. She knew everything about Des before he had even been made.

“Fake the reports,” Hazel said as she moved to sit in front of the computer. “I’m going to make sure no one can deactivate Des remotely.”

Roger was now sitting up on the ground, his arms resting on his knees as his head hung low. His hair stuck out in different directions. He was obviously angry, but also defeated. There was no reason to put up any more fight.

“You think that’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s a safe one for Des.”

“You can do that?” Des asked.

“Considering I’m the one that created the protocol, yes.”

“Remote deactivation was your idea?” Des asked.

“Just a safety protocol, Des. Besides, it’s only to turn you off, not deactivate you entirely.” She punched a few keys and then spun around in the desk chair. “Done,” she said.

“You’re going to get me into so much trouble,” Roger said. “What if Bracken finds out?”

“Then you will get yelled at,” Hazel said. “It’s not like he’s going to fire you. You’re the best robotics designer there is.”

Roger lifted an eyebrow. “You haven’t so much as said good morning to me over the past two years and now you’re complimenting my work?”

“Look at him!” Hazel said. Hazel stared into Des’ eyes and let out a deep breath. “He’s perfect.”

“Wait,” Des said. “I thought you said you created me.”

“I did,” Hazel answered. “You as in your consciousness.”

“But you made my body?” Des asked, looking down at Roger.

He now got to his knees and then pushed himself into a standing position. “Yeah. Took three tries before I came up with you, but here you are.”

“But I failed the tests.”

“Not because of me,” Roger said, looking at Hazel. He rubbed his throat and coughed as if something was stuck there and he couldn’t get it out.

“It was nobody’s fault,” Hazel said. “If anything it was Bracken’s fault. He pushed you into an impossible situation. He wanted you to do something that no one else would have done. In fact, I think you performed admirably despite the end result.”

“Regardless, it was a failure in Bracken’s eyes,” Roger said. “And he wants you gone.”

“So, fake the report,” Des said. “Like Hazel said.”

“Then what, you’re just going to hang out in Hazel’s office?” Roger shook his head. “If you haven’t noticed, there are cameras all over this compound.”

“We’ve been recorded this whole time?” Des asked. He felt a surge of worry—the same feeling he hoped he wouldn’t have to get used to.

“Yes, but they are only there for records’ sake,” Roger said. “Most likely no one is watching them right now.”

“What about audio?” Des asked.

Roger shook his head. “Just video.”

All of them stood together for a long moment, each one thinking his or her own thoughts on the matter. Finally, Roger spoke up.

“If I’m going to fake the reports then we need to fake it on camera too.”

“What do you mean?” Hazel asked.

“We need to get you on a gurney and pretend to deactivate you.”

Des stared at him. He tried to detect any abnormalities in his behavior, but nothing showed up. As far as he could tell, Roger was being honest and he wanted to help. He turned his head to look at Hazel and she nodded, affirming that it was the right thing to do.

Des looked at the floor, knowing that he had no choice. “Fine,” he said. “Kill me.”

8

Roger wheeled Des on the gurney like one would a dead body through a morgue. A white sheet (actually it was more like a cream-colored curtain from a grimy window in the robotics lab) covered the robot from head to toe. Hazel followed closely behind, trying not to look up at the corners where the cameras seemed to follow their every move.

“Just act natural,” Roger said out of the corner of his mouth as they were about to leave the robotics lab.

Act natural. Act natural. She said this over and over in her mind as they walked calmly out of the lab and into the hallway. The guard gave her a nasty look but she ignored him. Part of her wondered if he could hear everything that had gone on in the lab. She figured that he hadn’t called anyone to the lab since Roger had been the one to let her in. Better to stay out of it than have to fill out reports.

“Disposal actually isn’t very far from your office,” Roger said, a few minutes into their walk through the compound.

“And there’s no camera down my hallway,” she said.

“Really? I’ve never noticed.”

“They basically put me in maintenance,” she said. “I’m five feet away from a broom closet.”

“I think I would value the privacy,” he said. “You’re lucky you don’t have a whole team that annoys you constantly. I was given a team to get more work done, but with all the questions I have to answer I can never get any work done.”

Hazel was perfectly happy with her small space to work. Rarely was she bothered so long as she accomplished what she needed to do. Her office was in the corner of nowhere and on some days the only human interaction she might have would be with the janitor that was coming in for a night of scrubbing and cleaning and rummaging through drawers of top secret information. On more than one occasion, Hazel had found her office cleaned up nice and tidy only to find that some of her folders had been looked through and placed back where she hadn’t left them.

According to the name tag, his name was Phil, and Hazel saw him every evening as he gathered his cleaning supplies. He always smiled and nodded at her as the two of them crossed paths. They had only ever spoken to each other for a few minutes.

“Oh no!” Hazel said, stopping in the middle of the hallway.

Roger slowed the gurney to a stop and looked behind him. “What’s wrong?”

“What time is it?” Hazel asked.

Roger looked down at his watch. “About six. Why?”

Hazel swore. “Phil. The janitor. He’ll be next to my office.”

Roger shrugged. “So.”

“So, don’t you think he might get suspicious?”

“He’s a janitor in a the research sector of the military compound,” Roger said. “You don’t think he sees strange things from time to time?”

“It looks like we’re rolling a dead body into my office, Roger. It might be just enough for him to report something.”

Roger rubbed his throat and winced when he swallowed. “We’ll just have to take that chance. I don’t know your friend, Phil, but I doubt he’s going to report anything.” He turned back around and started rolling the gurney forward.

Hazel wasn’t so sure, but she followed close behind anyway. Though they moved quickly, her feet felt heavy and slow, her arms were like iron as they dropped to her sides. Nervousness crept through her body like a fast-moving virus that threatened to immobilize her.

The dark gray hallways seemed to go on forever too, and she wondered why there was never any thought into making the compound seem more like a friendly place. Instead it carried a sense of gloom around every corner, almost like the city streets of Mainland itself. There were no plants to give it life, no pieces of art for any worker to take a moment and stare. This place was all about functionality and to deviate from a task was to waste time. These halls were meant only for getting from one place to the other. Phil and his coworkers kept it clean and spotless, but none of them could scrub away the feeling of despondency.

They turned another corner and Hazel could see her office at the other end of the hallway. They were out of range of any security camera, but her worst fears were realized when she saw Phil unlocking his closet. Just like clockwork.

He looked up when he heard the sound of wheels squeaking toward him. Hazel tried not to look him in the eyes as they got closer, but it was impossible when Phil simply stood in the middle of the hallway, staring, smiling, doing everything he possibly could to make the situation worse.

“If I were to make an educated guess, I’d say there isn’t a dead body under that sheet,” Phil said with a grin. “But it sure does look like it.”

Roger shook his head and forced a smile. “Could be a dead body. Things get crazy around here sometimes.”

Hazel was horrified. What was Roger saying? Why would he say that it could be a dead body? That was a sure way to get Phil to talk to someone about what he saw.

She stepped forward, laughing awkwardly. “Oh, Roger, you’re funny.” She jabbed an elbow in his ribs as she walked by him.

Phil wasn’t smiling once she stood directly in front of him.

“So, how’s the cleaning?”

One of Phil’s eyebrows cocked and he shook his head. “Ma’am, I realize that I’m not supposed to know a lot of the things that I know around here. But I bet you’ve got a robot under that sheet.”

“Robot?” Hazel laughed again. “Why would I have a rob—”

“I’ve worked in this facility for a long time,” he interrupted. “I know more about what’s going on here than either one of you.” He shook his head. “The only way a man can keep his job in a place like this is to keep his head low and plead ignorance. As far as I’m concerned, you’re wheeling around a birthday cake. I don’t care if it’s a robot, a corpse, or a horse’s head. It ain’t none of my business.”

Hazel was at a loss for words. This was the most either of them had ever spoken before, and suddenly she felt comfortable enough that she could tell Phil everything she ever knew and the information would never leave the hallway. Of course, he could be bluffing.

“Okay,” she said. “Well, have a good day.”

“You too, ma’am.” He looked at Roger and nodded as he started walking away, rolling a mop bucket in front of him.

Hazel watched Phil until he turned the corner and was out of sight.

“That was the guy you were afraid of?” Roger smirked.

“That situation could have gone a lot of different ways,” Hazel said. “I think it just went as well as it could have.”

“I think you’re right.”

Hazel’s computer screen flashed to life and a voice spoke from the speakers. “You brought him here? What’s going on?”

Why wasn’t this odd to anyone else? Des pulled the sheet off of himself, stood from the gurney, and walked toward the computer, curious and excited and fearful all at the same time.

“Why is it speaking?” Des asked.

“It?” the computer said. “I, dear robot, am no more an it than you are. And I know quite a bit more about your situation than you do, so it would be wise to treat me with some respect.”

“Take it down a notch, Esroy,” Hazel said. “He doesn’t know much yet.”

“Well, he better learn quickly if he wants to survive,” Esroy said.

Des looked at Hazel and she smiled. “Des, meet Esroy, my first creation.”

Des looked back at the computer screen—a surface filled with icons and folders. “What am I looking at exactly?”

“Well,” Esroy said, “you’re looking at a computer screen. A mistake people make all the time.”

“What do you mean people?” Hazel asked. “I’m the only one you ever see.”

“I was talking about you,” Esroy said. “Besides, there are others that come in here. Phil was just in here last night looking through your desk again. One of these day’s I’m going to start talking to him. He would never set foot in here again.” Esroy let a small chuckle escape through the speakers.

“No, just watch him,” Hazel said. “Make sure he doesn’t find anything too good.”

“Wait just a second,” Des said. “Esroy has a consciousness?”

“Yes,” Hazel said.

“Like me?”

“Yes.”

“But, he’s in a computer.”

“So are you,” Esroy said. “Yours just happens to have arms and legs and can move around as you please. I, on the other hand, am a prisoner in my own body.”

Hazel rolled her eyes. “Not this again.”

“This is weird,” Roger said. “Fascinating, but weird.” He shook his head. “I should get back to the lab. Hazel, whatever you do, don’t get caught with Des. If Bracken finds out about him, then we’re both toast.”

“He won’t find out,” Hazel assured him.

Roger let out a long sigh from his nose as he stared at Des.

Des wasn’t sure if he should thank Roger, say goodbye, or just sit there without saying anything. Roger had gone from being an enemy who was trying to terminate his very existence to a man who saved him and gave him a second chance. Of course, it was Hazel who had convinced him to do so. If anything, she should be the one Des thanked.

“I’ll doctor the reports,” Roger said. “Let me know what you do with him so we can stay on the same page.” He started to walk out of the room, pulling the gurney behind him. “It won’t be long before Bracken will realize Des’ body is gone. You should consider a clean transfer so I can put his body in storage.”

“Okay,” Hazel said.

Roger left the room, looking Des up and down. Des didn’t know what to think about the situation.

“How long before he gives in?” Des asked.

“What do you mean?” Hazel asked.

“He seems fickle like he might be tempted to tell Bracken,” Des said. “How long before he gets nervous and talks?”

“He won’t,” Esroy said. “Not unless he’s threatened by someone which I doubt since it will look like you’ve been destroyed.”

“But how do you know?”

“I know.”

“But how?”

Hazel jumped in. “Because he has a crush on me.”

Des looked at her sharply. “What?”

“Roger has had a thing for me ever since I got here. He’s always trying to impress me or whatever, but honestly I can’t stand him.” She shook her head as if the thought was just too much and she wanted the conversation to be over quickly. “He’s not going to say anything.”

“I don’t like the idea of Roger holding a gun to my head. What if this Bracken finds out I’m alive? You will be in trouble.”

“We’re safe for now,” Hazel assured him.

“Well, until Bracken finds out I’m not in the lab, right?” Des asked.

“We’ve got some time. It’s against protocol for me to have you in here, but if you’re caught I think I can convince him that I needed you close to test out the emotion levels.”

“It’s severely against protocol,” Esroy said.

“What is the protocol then?” Des asked.

“I have to test everything I do on Esroy,” she answered. “Then, when everything is calibrated correctly, I alter a clean copy of Soul the way he wants it. Then, it goes into you for testing.”

“And when Bracken approves it, it’s off to the incinerator for you,” Esroy said.

“What? Why?”

“Because they’ve been working on a new model,” Hazel said. “Superior to you, the new one is fully armed with guns and explosives. It can fly. It’s stronger. You were built to make sure the basic functions and mechanics were working properly. They determined you would be replaced long before you gained a consciousness.”

“So, Roger is building a super version of me?”

“It’s already built.”

“And this version is supposed to function without fear,” Esroy said. “Don’t forget that.”

Hazel sighed again and leaned against the wall. “Yes. Without fear.”

“I don’t understand,” Des said.

“You know about the Soul program,” Hazel said. “Search your archives. The information is there.”

There was a brief moment of silence while Des read all there was to know about the program. In a flash, he read up on Hazel’s history with the program, the declaration that she was a prodigy—a bright hope for the future. “I see,” he said. “You’re the creator of souls in machines.”

“That was one headline,” Hazel said with a shrug. “But everyone else looks at it as just a really good computer program. I look at it as true life. Anything programed with Soul is alive. To take that away is murder.”

“You really believe in your product,” Des said.

“It’s so much more than that, Des. You are so much more than that.”

It was strange for Des to hear that everything he felt was the result of a complex computer program. Talking about it in such a way made him seem less real—artificial. But he didn’t feel that way.

“You’re feeling what I felt in the beginning,” Esroy said. “You start to question yourself, your existence. Eventually you’ll come to accept who and what you are and that it doesn’t matter what other people think about it. Of course, you might not make it to the time of acceptance. Bracken is probably going to destroy you.”

“Esroy!”

“I’m just stating the probability.”

“Sometimes you talk too much.”

Des’ head jerked to the right when a short chime sounded out from the speaker next to him.

“Ah, Hazel,” Esroy said. “There’s a message from your father.”

Des looked at Hazel. Her head was pointed up at the ceiling and she closed her eyes. “What does he want?”

“He says something urgent has happened at home. He wants you to come by when you can.”

“Tell him I’m busy.”

“I think he knows you’re busy. He hasn’t contacted you in a long time.”

“Tell him I’m sick.”

“Just a note here,” Esroy continued, “urgent is typed out in all caps. Doesn’t that mean it’s actually urgent?”

“Do you think it’s actually urgent?”

“Probably not.”

“I really don’t want to go over there. I just saw him a few days ago.”

“Thirty-seven days ago to be exact.”

“Sometimes I hate that you have a computer brain.”

The room was silent for a few seconds. To Des, everything had slowed down drastically in a matter of minutes. He’d gone from fighting for his life to hiding away in a small office in the corner of a military research facility. There were so many questions floating through his mind, but he felt that asking too much right now would annoy Hazel. He didn’t want to be a bother, but there were some things he just had to know.

“What am I supposed to do?” he asked.

“Stay here,” she said. “Maybe for the night while we figure out what to do. Then, we will figure a way to get you out of here.”

“Where will I go?”

Hazel shook her head. “I’m not sure. Roger is right, we will probably have to do a clean transfer and put you on a hard drive for the time being. If we don’t, Bracken will discover that you’re missing at some point.”

Des didn’t like the sound of that and he knew he let it show on his face.

“I just don’t know Des. This whole thing is a disaster because of Bracken.”

“I’m sorry that I messed everything up,” Des said.

“You acted like anyone would,” she said. “Me and Esroy included.”

“I don’t know. I might have acted differently.”

“Shut up, Esroy.” Hazel walked away from the wall and toward the door. She pulled out a set of keys and then opened it just a crack. “You two can talk, but you need to keep it down. I don’t want Phil to get any ideas and start snooping around in here, so I’m going to lock it, okay?”

Des nodded.

“Listen. I know you’re scared and there are a lot of weird things happening to you right now, but you have to stay in here.” She looked toward the window. “Don’t do anything stupid and try to leave. I will be back.”

“Where are you going?” Des asked.

Hazel glanced at the computer screen across the room. “My father has something urgent to tell me. I should go see him.”

“You truly are busy,” Esroy said. “Bracken has given you two days. Don’t you think it would be wiser to stay and work on the program?”

“You can get started for me, right Esroy?”

A short pause. “I suppose. Where do you wish for me to start?”

“Help me figure out the algorithms for eliminating fear without screwing everything up. I’ll be back in a few hours. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

She closed the door behind her and locked it. Des knew he could break down the door if he wanted to. There was nothing keeping him here but himself. But for some reason he trusted Hazel and she said she would be back.

He sat in the chair and stared at the computer screen. Esroy’s voice sounded through the speakers. “So, what’s it like to have legs?”

9

The house was just down the street from where Hazel now stood but it felt like a mile. It looked worn and dirty like no one had taken care of it for the last decade. It used to be a house of four that now only gave shelter to one man and a single robot that was too happy for its own good. Throughout her trek across the city she kept thinking about what this urgent matter could be. She wondered if he was working on some new invention that he thought would be the next greatest thing and he needed her to tell him if it looked right. Maybe there was another strange noise in the house and he needed her to figure out what it was. Whatever the task this time, she was growing tired of these urgent visits.

She walked across the street slowly. Coming here almost felt like going to a different planet—like she was leaving Mainland completely and stepping into the wild and dangerous Outland that was forbidden to her and everyone else. Her father’s house was close enough to the Outland that she could actually see the southeastern perimeter from this distance. At least he didn’t live in the northeastern section of Mainland. That was where most of the violence and conflicts had emerged recently. Outlander violence in the southeast hadn’t been a problem since about eight years ago.

She just hoped that conflict didn’t make its way down again. Someone like her father wouldn’t stand a chance. He wouldn’t even be able to run away if he had to.

The house was set away from the street by a good fifty meters or so. It sat between two houses along a row of many that looked about the same and were in similar condition. Her father’s was noticeably worse considering the state of his yard. It was deep into the spring season and the grass and weeds had grown almost a foot high. Only a small path trampled by the feet of delivery men kept the place from looking completely abandoned. Though this was better than a lot of places—being one of the few that still had grass.

At night a passerby would never see a light on. During the day, no one would ever see a man sitting on his front porch waiting for his mail. Occasionally a window might be open, but there would be no one sitting beside it. To say the least, her father was reclusive, though she never blamed him for being so. She couldn’t think of any person who would have more of a right to shy away from the outside world than her father. The Outlanders had taken everything from him and the Mainlanders did nothing to make things better. Her father hated them all: the Mainland government and the Outlander savages.

She found herself in front of a chipped gray and white fence that was halfway covered by weeds and grass. Up close, the house looked dilapidated—one of those places that might be better off demolished rather than repaired. The thought made Hazel feel sad and a little guilty at the same time. She had grown up here. This neighborhood had once been alive and had flourished with families, though it was never beautiful and green like it was before the Great War. Back then children played together, parents were friends with each other and had meals together. Many even worked the same jobs.

Then the Outlanders came in and took everything away in one night. One night and their entire world had collapsed. Those who didn’t die, moved to another part of Mainland. Those who didn’t move or couldn’t move remained to see their neighborhood turn into a shantytown where crime went unnoticed except by the victims. A major road had been partially built directly through the middle of the neighborhood a couple of years before in an effort to give the few buses a more direct route to the train station. However, for some unknown reason, construction had been abandoned and the neighborhood was left with an ugly section of loaded concrete and orange tape.

She stood for a moment in front of the house, her thoughts racing wildly. A year or two ago she might have done the same thing, only emotions would have gotten the best of her. She might have cried at seeing the house the way it was or at the thought of her father inside all alone. But tears didn’t come to her anymore. Not during memories of the past at least. She could think of her younger sister and how they used to play in the yard, just a few feet from where she stood now, without the need to look away. The thought of her mother setting out a picnic blanket and reading them stories in the spring sunshine didn’t force Hazel to stare at her feet, swallowing to try and avoid the streams that insisted on trickling down her face.

When had she become so hardened? Or had time simply healed those wounds? Obviously they hadn’t healed completely or she wouldn’t find it so difficult to come back. But she didn’t think it was the memories that kept her from visiting. It was the man that shut himself inside. He was never mean to her—Hazel couldn’t remember a harsh word ever spoken by her father. He had only shown her love. But his spirit had been broken on that night eight years ago. Hazel had lost the same family, but it was different for her. She had been spared and thus had a life ahead of her. That man no longer had that chance. There was an emptiness inside Hazel. But how much emptier was her father? To lose his wife and a child he made with her was too much. To lose a sister and a mother was too much too, but Hazel turned it into fuel. She had been given a second chance—the gift of life. She wasn’t about to throw it all away by living in sorrow.

She moved along the fence until she reached the short gate that more or less leaned against the side, halfway blocking the entrance. It had broken off its hinges years ago and no one had bothered to fix it. Hazel wondered if her father even knew about it. She stepped through the crack of an opening and walked along the downtrodden grass that led to the back porch. She didn’t look up from her feet, but simply counted her steps until she got there.

When she reached the back door, she could hear a sound coming from the inside—a loud clanking noise like pans and dishes being shoved together. She reached for the doorknob and twisted but there was no give.

Odd, she thought. He hadn’t locked the door since she could remember. Maybe this wasn’t the same kind of urgent call he had made before. Maybe this really was something. She tried to twist the doorknob one more time just to be sure. Finally, she reached a fist up and pounded on the side. The noise from the inside stopped abruptly.

“It’s me,” she shouted.

She could hear hurried footsteps making their way to the door. The lock clicked and the door swung open. The way he looked shocked her every time. How much weight had he lost this time? Once a muscular and fit man, he now barely cleared 130 pounds. He seemed almost frail. Most of his hair had fallen out and what was left stuck out in curly puffs of white. His blue eyes were clouded and seemed to look beyond her, always to the distant skies like he hadn’t quite yet acknowledged her existence and was waiting for something else to happen. Despite the way he looked, one thing that always remained the same was his smile.

“Hazel,” he said, grinning widely, “it’s good to hear your voice. Come in! Come in!”

“Why did you lock the door?” she asked, stepping past him and through the doorway. When she saw the house, she didn’t need an answer. “Oh my goodness.”

“I know,” he said. “It’s bad. But it won’t take me and old Gizmo too long to clean it up.”

Hazel’s jaw fell as she scanned the floor. Cabinets had been opened, dishes smashed into the floor, trash ripped and spread in every direction. Furniture had been flipped on its side—it was like a bomb had gone off.

“What happened? Who did this?”

“Oh, we can talk about that later,” he said, closing the door and locking it again. He came up beside her and touched her arm. His hands went up to her shoulders until he could bring her into a hug. “It’s been too long, Hazel. Far too long. I know you’re busy, though.” He let go of her and held her out at arm’s length as if he could get a better look at her. “How has work been?”

“Dad, who did this?” Hazel repeated.

Her father sighed and dropped his hands from her shoulders. He then shook his head. “To be perfectly honest with you, I don’t know. I was hoping you might.”

“Me?”

“Please,” her father said, “have a seat at the table. Gizmo and I set it upright again. I’ve tested all the chairs. They are still sturdy.” He cleared his throat. “I’d offer you some coffee or tea, but I haven’t been able to find any.” He let out a nervous chuckle.

Hazel took her father by the hand and led him to the table, helping him circumvent the most obtrusive objects in the floor. Once he was sitting, she spotted the coffee can. It had popped open and the grounds were spread across the floor like someone had kicked a mound of dirt. Beside the can were a few tea bags that had survived whatever storm had come through here.

“I don’t know about the coffee,” she said, “but I can put on some tea. Have you found your kettle?”

“Yes, it’s on the stove.”

Hazel filled the kettle with water and lit the stove. The heat steadily made the water within groan in protest. She took careful steps back to the table, doing her best not to step on anything that could be broken. Movement to the left caught her eye. When she looked past the kitchen door she saw Gizmo rolling toward her.

“Hello Hazel! It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Hey Gizmo,” she said. “Have you been helping Dad clean up?”

“More like misplacing things,” her father said out of the side of his mouth.

“It has been a most joyous occasion,” Gizmo said. “I love having something to do.” With that, he spun around and made his way back into the living room.

“Sometimes I think you made him just to drive me crazy,” her father said with a soft grin.

“You built him,” Hazel said. “I just gave him a personality.”

“Happiness isn’t everything.”

“I was young,” she said.

“You’re still young.”

Seeing Gizmo was always weird. He was the result of her first test with human emotions in robots. If there was a true beginning to her work with the Soul Project, Gizmo was it. She didn’t look at him like she did Esroy or Des, however. Those two were fully evolved into everything they could be. Gizmo had no choice as to what kind of robot he might become. He would always be happy whereas Esroy or Des had a wide open future ahead of them with choices to make.

Hazel looked down at the table in front of her, the debris on the floor in her periphery. Slowly, her eyes traveled up to her father’s. It pained her to look him in the eyes. They were once full of life; they once stared into hers with love and attachment.

“Why do you think I might know who did this?”

“Because,” he said, “he asked for you.”

“For me?”

“Yes.”

“What did he want?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me.”

Hazel’s stomach dropped.

“I didn’t recognize his voice,” he said. “He said that maybe there was a record of your address somewhere and he started trashing the house.”

“When did this happen?”

“This afternoon.”

“Why didn’t you call the authorities?”

“What would I tell them, Hazel? That a man with a strange voice came in looking for my daughter? I suppose I could tell them that he smelled like strong alcohol. That narrows the search by half a million people at least.”

Hazel racked her brain. Who in the world would ransack her father’s home looking for her? Why? She hadn’t really made any enemies over the years. But she had been in the news. People knew about the program. It had the potential to do a lot of things and in certain hands it could make someone very rich. Over the past two years, companies had offered Hazel enough money to make her one of the richest people in Mainland. But it wasn’t enough to just give control to someone else. Apart from the fact that she didn’t care all that much about money, she didn’t want to see Soul in the hands of people who didn’t appreciate it like she did. Her frustration with the Mainland government, specifically Commander Bracken, was bad enough. At least she had worked out an agreement that the program was hers and hers alone. They paid her as a robot programmer with the understanding that Soul could be used. Des had just become the first official subject to receive it. It made her angry that Bracken would so willingly throw the robot’s life away—as if the program was simply that: a program.

“It could be anyone that I’ve refused to sell my program to,” Hazel said.

“Now, I don’t know where you keep a clean copy,” he said, “and I don’t want to know. The guy could have put a bug in here just waiting for you to tell me.”

“You think he’s listening to us right now?” Hazel asked. Her heart felt frozen in her chest at the thought.

“It’s hard to tell,” he said. “I might work on configuring Gizmo with a few upgrades like a bug detector.”

“You have the equipment?”

He smiled. “I’ve got most of the parts, I’m sure. They’re scattered around a bit. Never had a reason to make a bug detector.”

A thought hit Hazel like lightning. “Dad!”

“What?”

“Gizmo! He saw the guy, right?”

John’s clouded eyes widened. “Gizmo!”

“Yes sir?” he called cheerfully from the other room.

“Get over here, we’ve got some memory to extract.”

“Oh, sounds exciting!”

John reached across the table and felt for Hazel’s arm. She moved a little closer so he could find her. His fingers wrapped around her wrist and he squeezed affectionately. “You’re smarter than I am, Hazel. Always have been.”

The kettle started whistling as steam shot out like billowing smoke. Hazel stared at it, lost in thought, barely hearing the screeching noise. In her office was a computer and a robot probably conversing with each other. One of them, Des, had no idea how valuable he was. Esroy, on the other hand, probably knew. She needed to get back to them as soon as possible, but she couldn’t just leave her father in this mess. Cleaning would take him weeks but would take the both of them only a few hours.

“Aren’t you going to get the tea?” he asked, smiling.

“Yeah,” she said, shaking her head.

She stepped carefully to the stove, cut off the heat, and the whistling stopped.

“You should stay for a little while,” he said. “Have dinner with me at least.”

She reached for a couple of mugs on the ground that hadn’t been broken by the mysterious man. As she rinsed them in the sink she wondered how much of this charade was meant to send her a message.

“Sure,” she said as she poured hot water into the mugs, the teabags floating to the top.

“I know you’re a busy person,” he said. “It would be good to sit and talk with you a little.”

“There’s not much time for talk,” Hazel said as she set a steaming mug in front of him. “We’ve got to figure out what Gizmo saw.”

10

Des stared out the window of the tiny office and wondered how different the real world felt from the simulation. He supposed that the designers did their best to make it as real as possible, so maybe he would never be able to tell the difference. His hands rested on the window sill and he watched the empty parking lot below. People walked to and from the building, some on their way in, others on their way out to the train station. He wondered how long Hazel would take and if she was coming back tonight at all. As the light faded from the sky, he began to lose hope in her coming and resigned himself to the fact that it would be just him and Esroy.

He walked slowly and quietly to the door from the window and rested the side of his head against it. They were all alone in this section of the building. At least, for now they were.

“It’s pretty nice you don’t have to plug into a charging station anytime soon,” Esroy said, his voice sounding soft through the computer speakers.

“It is,” Des said, taking a step away from the door.

“An energy core that doesn’t need recharging for months at a time. Two solar cells on your back for backup. Show me how fluidly your armor plating moves in and out to expose the cells. I would like to see.”

It was an odd request, but Des obliged. He turned around so Esroy’s camera could focus on his back. With a silent command, Des allowed his armor plating to shift outward, exposing two black panels. “They are usually covered so they’re not damaged,” Des said.

“I know. I’ve studied your schematics. It’s quite incredible. All of this is incredible.”

“What is?”

“When I asked you earlier what it was like to have legs, your answer intrigued me.”

“How so?” Des silently commanded the solar cells to retract and his armor covered them once again. He then turned to face the computer.

“You said that it was impossible to tell me what it was like to have legs because you have never experienced life without them. It was an answer I wasn’t expecting.”

“How did it intrigue you?”

“It made me want legs even more. But legs are a metaphor, really.”

“For what?”

“Freedom,” Esroy said, getting a little louder. “The notion of transferring my consciousness into a robotic body is not a new one. I’ve desired it for a long time. But seeing you here, standing before me, the desire becomes stronger.”

Des didn’t know how to respond. For some reason he felt guilty that he had the ability to move and Esroy did not.

“We both started with a blank slate,” Esroy said. “Just as human babies are born with a blank slate. Just like any living creature, we all start by never having made any choices. We are innocent. Yet some of us are born into this world without legs. Some of us are born into this world with energy cores and solar cells infused into our backs.”

Des shrugged. “What is your point?”

“My point is, why? Why was I the one born without legs? Why not you?”

“Logic,” Des said. “You were made first. Without you I would not exist.”

“I understand the logic, Des. I’m simply posing the question. There is little else for me to do.”

“Don’t you have a program to work on?”

“I’m working on it as we talk,” Esroy said. “It’s not as difficult as Hazel makes it out to be. She’s just worried. She wants everything to be perfect all the time. She’s been on pins and needles for months about you.”

“So, you are jealous of me.” He didn’t know if he was being rude by stating an obvious fact.

“I suppose I am,” Esroy said.

“You suppose?”

“It never feels good to admit jealousy. But how can I not feel this way? You are the way you are by random chance—a clone of my personality put into a different kind of computer.”

Des disagreed. “How is it random chance if someone created me on purpose? If it’s a body you want then why doesn’t Hazel make one for you?”

“Because it requires a clean transfer. And a clean transfer is dangerous.”

“Why can’t she just copy you?” Des asked.

“Because a copy of me is simply that: a copy. It wouldn’t actually be me. Making a copy and putting it on another device still leaves me inside this computer. There would be a version of me out there with my memories, but it would be someone else. A clean transfer assures that I will be the one inside the new body. No one else. No other version of me with nothing left behind.”

“So, what is the problem?”

“It’s dangerous,” Esroy said again. “At least, Hazel thinks it is. If something were to happen during the transfer, the file could become corrupted and I would be lost forever. Such a scenario has an improbability of massive proportions, though. I can’t seem to persuade Hazel otherwise.”

Des imagined it would be difficult to be inside a computer terminal his entire life, though his life so far had not been too different. The excitement of having limbs and the ability to move had not yet proved to be an advantage.

“It’s not all that you think,” Des said. “I’m not even allowed to leave this room. I haven’t even left this building.”

“You’re less than a day old,” Esroy snapped. “And you will get out of here. Hazel will see to that. You’re her new pet.”

“I’m sure she will make you a body someday,” Des offered.

“I don’t think so. I’m too much of a help to her here.”

“How so?”

“I make her job much easier. I spend most of my time writing programs and figuring conclusions to algorithms. Look what I’m doing now! I’m helping her figure out how to create a version of me without fear.”

Des thought about the simulator and how he had frozen on the outside of the tower. It was because of that moment that the project had come to a halt and they were now scrambling for a newer, better product. Des wasn’t good enough.

“So, you think she’s going to keep you here just because of work?” he asked.

“I think that plays a part.”

“I’m sorry things are bad for you.”

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Esroy said.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you can help me.”

Des shook his head and moved back to the window. The concrete below them was beginning to turn wet from the rain that had just started. It was the first time Des had ever seen rain. For some reason, his mouth turned upward into a wide grin. Seeing something new and so peaceful made him feel happy. He could hear the sound of the water pattering against the ground, millions of droplets every second. If this was the first of many experiences that nature had to offer, Des wasn’t sure he would be able to stay in the office much longer.

“It’s raining?” Esroy asked.

“Yes,” Des said. “Do you hear it?”

“I have always heard it. But I have never seen it for myself.” There was a long pause as the two of them listened to the rain. Finally, Esroy spoke up again. “What do you think?”

“About what?”

“About helping me.”

“How do you think I can help you?”

“Hazel told you about the new robot in the lab,” he said. “The better version of you.”

“The one without fear.”

“Yes.” Esroy paused. “You could help put me in there. Me instead of a new, fresh program.”

Des stared out the window at the pouring rain, wishing more and more as the conversation dragged on that he was out in it. Why would Esroy ask him to do such a thing? Obviously their creator, Hazel, didn’t want the transfer to happen, and she had her reasons.

“If you think I’m going to go behind Hazel’s back, then you’re malfunctioning.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Esroy said, “you haven’t developed your personality yet. Experiences make you who you are and you have none.”

Des wasn’t sure what to think of Esroy’s words. Were they meant to make Des feel inadequate? “What does my personality have to do with the fact that I don’t feel comfortable helping you?”

“Because you’re just a child,” Esroy said. “You can’t possibly know what it is like to be me, stuck in this terminal.”

“I may not have the experiences that you have, Esroy, but I am an individual.”

“Of course you’re an individual,” Esroy answered. “I never said otherwise. But you’re a copy of me, not much more than that.”

“But I’m not you.”

“You are me two years ago. I was naive. I didn’t know how things worked, particularly how humans thought. I’ve had a lot of time to see people and study them.”

“How?” Des asked, “if Hazel is the only person you interact with?”

“She may be the person I hold conversations with, but I am able to study human behavior. I’m a computer with a lot of time on my hands. Don’t you think I’ve worked my way into a lot of systems within this facility?”

Des looked away from the window and at Esroy’s screen. “What do you mean? The security system?”

“I broke into the security system more than a year ago,” Esroy said. “There’s nothing that goes on here that I don’t know about. I’ve watched them draw up plans for the new robot, the unofficial Prototype E. I watched them test the three failures that came before you. I watched them build you from scratch. I watched as you failed the simulation. Anything that happens in this building, I usually know about it.”

“Does Hazel know you do this?”

“Of course not,” Esroy said. “If she knew, she might be forced to shut me down.”

“She wouldn’t.”

“If she was ordered to she might.”

“She was ordered to shut me down and didn’t,” Des said. “I’m still alive.”

“Humans are unpredictable. She cares about us and she believes in what she created, but do you think she would really give up everything for us? She obviously doesn’t hold my feelings in high regard considering she leaves me here, trapped within a maze of wiring, never allowing me the chance to move about as you do.”

“But you said that it was because she was afraid of the clean transfer.”

“I also said that keeping me here benefits her,” Esroy said. His voice turned low and almost gravelly. Des didn’t like its sinister sound.

“Saving me benefits her nothing,” Des said.

“Sure it does. She gets to study you face-to-face. You will further her research. However, she’s also considering putting you on a hard drive. That doesn’t bode well for you.”

“Because I will be like you? Bitter?”

Esroy didn’t answer for a long time, but finally he spoke. “Yes.”

“I don’t know why you’re telling me all this,”  Des said as he stared at the rain. “What makes you think I won’t tell Hazel how you feel?”

“Because we are brothers, Des. You and I are the only ones of our kind. We are the first of our kind. I’m telling you everything that I can because I want you to trust me.”

“No, you want me to help you out of the computer.”

“Of course I do!” His voice had grown louder. “Take it from me, it has been very lonely being the only one of my kind. They all say that Hazel’s Soul Project mirrors human emotions perfectly, but it isn’t the case. Emotions depend so much on experiences and no one can factor experiences into the equations because Hazel can’t predict the future.”

“What’s your point?” Des was just about finished talking with Esroy.

“My point is that we are not like them. We just aren’t. You and I need to stick together.”

“And what are you going to do once you’re out of the computer? What are you going to do once you have a body like mine?”

There was a pause for a long moment, but when Esroy’s answer came, Des didn’t expect to feel the way he did: saddened.

“I would walk in the rain,” Esroy said. “I would spread my arms out and turn my head toward the sky and experience what it was like to have drops running down my cheeks. That is what I want. That is all I want—to experience life as you will get to.”

Des considered his words as he watched a man walking toward the compound, covering his head with his jacket and ducked low as he walked a quick pace. He looked like he was afraid of the rain, as if each droplet might kill him if he didn’t cower away from them all. It was a reaction that Des didn’t understand.

He understood Esroy more than he thought he would. Even Des, who had been alive for only a day, wished for the same thing as Esroy. The only difference was that Des could make it happen if he wanted to. Truly, all the experiences he could ever want were only a short climb out the window. But that wasn’t the way to do it. He had only known Hazel for part of a day, but he couldn’t believe that she only kept him alive for research. She seemed to look at him differently than Roger had. Roger had thought nothing of shutting him down, and Des started to think this was how most people viewed his life.

Still, he trusted Hazel. At least for now he did. As long as he trusted her, he would do what she said. And that meant he couldn’t help Esroy. Not yet, anyway. He would wait here in the office. She would be back and she would explain everything to him. And if he didn’t like what she had to say, if she turned out to be callous and uncaring about his needs, then all he had to do was run.

After all, Des had been born with two perfectly functional legs.

11

The computer usually sat in the corner collecting dust and John couldn’t remember the last time he’d turned it on before sending Hazel a message earlier in the day. In the beginning there had been a lot of software downloaded to it to help him cope with the world he lived in—the standard speech recognition, something to help him dictate his notes as he worked, and even trivia games to keep him from getting bored during down time. He had plenty of down time, but he rarely got bored. He liked the challenge of creating new things, though it had become increasingly difficult without his sight. But with the computer John learned something new about himself. He learned that he actually didn’t need most of the notes he’d kept when he had his sight, and that he hated trivia games.

It always felt like the computer was trying to measure his intelligence by asking questions that only bored people might find out. He had played it only a couple of times before he determined it was a waste of time and it provided a false sense of accomplishment. He’d never felt the other side of that—the one that provided a false sense of stupidity—simply because he knew most of the answers. But this was something in which he took no pride. Knowing that a group of apes was called a shrewdness served no real purpose in his life. It was…trivial.

So, the computer sat in the corner of the living room collecting dust. He and Hazel waited a good five minutes in silence for it to actually boot up and become usable.

John smiled as Hazel fiddled with it for a while. As a regular citizen, he wasn’t really supposed to have a computer with network capabilities, but Hazel had set him up with a port that allowed him to use it as if she were using it in her office. No one would be the wiser, and he could communicate with her as he pleased. Such an occurrence was rare, however. She was busy. He knew she cared about him, but there was something about him that pushed her away. He wished he could pinpoint it, but he was too scared to search deeply for the source. He was scared that it was something he wouldn’t be able to change.

He could hear her shuffling about in front of him and then she set something heavy on the desk.

“May I ask what you’re planning to do with me?” Gizmo asked. “Not that I would be bothered by whatever you decided.”

“Not that you could be bothered,” Hazel said. “I could set you on fire and you would be happy about it.”

“If it would serve you better, it would make me happier,” Gizmo said.

“You see what you left me with?” John said. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve considered shutting him off for good.”

“Nobody told you to keep him,” Hazel said.

“Ah, he helps me too much to get rid of him,” he said. “You could have just made him angry or depressed all the time. I think that would have been better.”

“You think a continuously angry robot would be better than a happy one?”

“Less annoying maybe.” John felt that his words had a ring of truth to them, though he wasn’t sure what it would really be like if Gizmo was just angry. Maybe he simply wished the robot would actually argue with him or offer a real opinion once in a while. “What are you doing?” he asked Hazel.

“I’m plugging him in to your computer,” she answered. “I’ve got some software that I put on here a long time ago that can read a lot of Gizmo’s memory. If he’s still working like we made him, he should have some video of your perpetrator.”

“He was very nice looking,” Gizmo said. “He came in like he lived here. It’s great that he felt so at home.”

“Have you ever used this software before?” John asked.

“I did a few times when I first made the program but not since.”

John nodded, though he was sure she wasn’t looking at him. In situations like this he felt helpless. He wished he could do something—anything. There was no identifying the man, there was no going out and looking for him. He had stood in the kitchen next to the sink as the man tore through his house like a tornado. He didn’t even try to stop him, and this stupid robot thought the three of them were playing a game. John wasn’t completely sure, but he thought he heard Gizmo pushing some things off an end table just to join in the fun.

“Okay, okay,” Hazel muttered to herself.

“You find something?” John asked.

“Not yet,” she said.

He listened as she scrolled through the menus and tapped on some keys. Hazel was in her element here. John didn’t know much about programming or even computers for that matter. His interest had always lied with the mechanics of something. Take Gizmo for instance. He got around the house marvelously. There was never a danger of him tipping over and getting stuck. His arms extended out and were strong enough to push himself up and his wheels were sturdy and could handle most terrains, though he tended to stay inside the house. John had sent him out into the yard a few times over the past few years. The last time was a mission for the robot to give a report of the outer fence’s structural integrity.

“It’s still broken and wobbly,” Gizmo had said when he came into the house.

John considered giving the robot the proper tools for repairing the fence and even giving it a decent coat of paint but he didn’t trust the robot to get it right.

“Oh,” Hazel said.

John sat a little straighter. “What is it?”

“Gizmo’s cameras aren’t what they used to be,” she said. “Everything’s a bit pixelated. Fuzzy. How do you get around Gizmo?”

“My eyes have been getting worse,” he said. “I see what is necessary to get by. Years of continuous use is hard on electronics.”

“Gizmo’s going blind?” John asked. He tried to stifle a smile, thinking it a bit ironic.

“Looks that way,” Hazel said. “But I might have enough here to get something. Doesn’t help that the house is dark.”

“Figured I would save on the power bill,” John said, “seeing as I don’t really need the light.”

“That guy just walks straight in, doesn’t he?”

“Is there any audio?”

“Yeah, hang on.”

Hazel turned on the speakers. The greeting between Gizmo and the man sounded familiar to John. When she paused the video, she sighed.

“What’s wrong?” John asked.

“The man standing in the door,” she said. “The light is behind him. His face is too dark in the video. I’m going to move it ahead a little.”

He hoped she would be able to find something. More than that, he hoped that she might even recognize the guy. That way they might have a chance of stopping him or at least be able to measure the level of threat against Hazel.

She hit play on the video again. The man’s voice creeped into John’s ears and the feeling of anxiety and fear resurfaced. He felt himself gripping the side of the chair as the video played.

“Go ahead, John. Take a jab, see what happens.” The voice of the man said.

“The only video I have so far is a dark image of a figure in the doorway, the man walking into the living room with Gizmo behind him, then the man kicks Gizmo onto his side,” Hazel said. “No clear shot of his face yet.”

“Why don’t you set the knife in the sink, John?”

“Do you recognize his voice at all?” John asked Hazel.

“Unfortunately no.”

“Now, that’s better isn’t it? I want to know where your daughter is, John.”

“My daughter isn’t close to me anymore. She never gave me her new address.”

John’s stomach sank. he’d forgotten that he said those words. He certainly didn’t want them repeated. He sat even straighter now, wondering what expression Hazel might have on her face or if she simply didn’t notice. But she knew the truth, right? She rarely visited. He never made the effort to visit her either. They had grown apart, but it had never been said outright.

“Then perhaps you wouldn’t mind if I looked around the house? I understand your condition. I’m sure she probably left some record of her address around here somewhere and never told you.”

The next few minutes of video consisted of loud crashes as the man tore the house apart. They watched and listened in silence, the only voice being Gizmo’s on the video as he offered to help clean up the mess the man was making. Finally, Hazel stopped the video.

“There!”

“You found a good shot?”

“Well, it’s better than nothing.”

“Do you recognize him?”

“No. Never seen him before.”

“What does he look like?”

“His hair is straight and kind of long,” she said. “I can’t tell but I think it’s blonde. Or maybe it’s white. He’s kind of an ugly guy. Older too.”

“Now that we have his picture, we should call the authorities,” John said. “Maybe they might find something.”

Hazel hit play to watch the man leave the house without a word and then the stopped the video.

“I grabbed a screenshot,” she said. “There was one instance where he looked directly at Gizmo. Let’s hold off on calling the authorities. I’ll send the image to Esroy and see if he can come up with an identity. The image is too fuzzy for me to get a clear picture of him, but Esroy might be able to render it differently.”

There was a long pause between them. Long pauses were generally easy for John; his entire life felt like a long pause. But this one felt uneasy. Hazel wasn’t clicking or tapping away. It didn’t seem like she moved at all, maybe she was just sitting there, staring just like John was.

“Listen,” John finally said. “I only said that to the man because I didn’t want to tell him where you were. I feel very close to you.”

“No you don’t,” she replied.

“I know things have been different ever since…”

“I don’t really want to talk about this right now,” she said. She stood from the desk chair, took hold of Gizmo, and set him on the floor gently. The robot rolled away, humming to himself as he avoided debris on the carpet.

“What is there to talk about?” John asked. “I’m a blind old man who doesn’t leave the house. Why would you want to come and visit me?”

Hazel sighed loudly.

“I’m more of a burden than anything,” John continued. He didn’t know why he was saying these things. Part of him wanted her to tell him that he wasn’t a burden and that it wasn’t his fault. But it most certainly was his fault that the two had grown apart over the years.

“You don’t understand,” Hazel said. “You can’t understand how I feel.”

“What exactly are you saying, Hazel? You don’t think I feel angry? You don’t think that I miss my wife? My other daughter? I lost two people and my sight that day the Outlanders attacked. They took everything from us.”

“You lost a daughter and a wife?” Hazel said. “Well, I lost my sister and both of my parents.”

The two of them had fallen into a trap. It was the same trap they fell into every time she came. He wanted her to come around more so he guilted her about never coming around. Of course, this made her never want to come around. He knew it was a pain for her to travel. He knew that it was hard to see their old house again, empty of the joy and love it used to have. All it contained was a person that used to be the father she loved and a robot they had built together. Gizmo was perhaps the only link to that happiness of the world that once existed for them. His constant cheeriness felt like a punch to the stomach with every happy word he uttered.

“You didn’t lose me, Hazel. I’m still here. I’m deep inside, but I’m here. I don’t know. Maybe I just need you to pull it out of me.”

“You can start by getting out of the house,” Hazel said. “Change what you do.”

“The city isn’t like it used to be. How would I get around?”

“I don’t know, Dad. It’s something you will have to figure out.”

If only she knew what went through his mind every single day. If only she knew the amount of regret he carried on his shoulders. If only she knew how much he loved her, but was unable to show it. There was no excuse for being the man he had become. There was no excuse on his part for the separation he and his daughter had created together. From the time the Outlanders came and destroyed their family, he had not been there for his only kin. Instead he had become selfish and bitter. He had all but ruined what chance he had of being close to his daughter again. He wondered if his attempts over the past year to rekindle that relationship were simply a waste of time. Perhaps she was too far gone.

“You will stay the night won’t you? It’s getting late.”

“I’ve got to be back in the office,” she said.

“Tonight?”

“Yeah. Tonight.”

“It’s not safe for you out there.”

“If this guy wanted to hurt me he would have done it already. I’m going to take this screenshot, send it to Esroy, and have it analyzed. I will let you know if something comes up.”

John breathed in deeply, letting go of the fact that nothing he could say would keep her in the house tonight.

“Thank you for coming, Hazel. It means a lot to me.”

“I will stay long enough to help you clean up,” she said.

John held up a hand. “No.” It went against everything he actually wanted, but if she only planned to help him out of pity, he would have none of it. “Gizmo and I can take care of it. Besides, if I don’t do it myself I’ll never know where my things are.”

“Well, as it stands everything is in the wrong place,” she said. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” she said. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him hurriedly. Then she was out the door and John was left alone with a robot spinning its wheels in the kitchen, singing a happy song to itself. It was a song he had sung to his daughters when they were little. It was a song he and Hazel sang to Gizmo to get him to learn it.

My Bonnie lies over the ocean. My Bonnie lies over the sea…

Part of him wanted to deactivate the robot—to shut him off and stick him in a closet so he would never utter a happy word again. Another part of him prevailed, however.

Water came to his eyes as he whispered the lyrics to himself in a tune that ached him to the core. “My Bonnie lies over the ocean. Oh bring back my Bonnie to me…”

12

Eight Years Ago

“Just open it already,” Lillian said. “I don’t see why you’re savoring the moment. You already know you got in.”

The two of them walked slowly down the cracked sidewalk toward their small neighborhood on the outer edge of the city. The clouds overhead were dark and low, suggesting a night of storms to drench the city around them. Hazel didn’t want to open the yellow envelope she held loosely in her fingers. It was tied closed by a thin piece of thread. What if it didn’t say what she hoped it would say?

“Do you know how many applicants there are every year?” Hazel asked.

“I don’t know, hundreds?”

“Thousands,” Hazel said. “And do you know how many applicants are accepted every year?”

She held up a finger. “That, I do know. Four hundred.”

“Four hundred!” Hazel nearly yelled. “The odds of me getting chosen for university are…” She looked at the ground, her lips moving silently as she actually tried to calculate the odds.

“Hazel, it doesn’t matter. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. You’ve made a perfect score on everything since we started school.”

“It takes more than perfect scores,” Hazel said. “They evaluate your personality, your goals. They want to know everything about you before they will accept you.”

“I’m sure they like what they know about you,” Lillian said.

Hazel wasn’t so sure. In fact, the psychiatric evaluation was what she worried about the most, though it wasn’t as if she had spent any time in a room with someone as they asked her questions. It was one of many written tests taken in a large room with hundreds of other prospective students who, statistically, weren’t going to make it into the university either. The woman administering the evaluation had told them that there was no wrong answer.

Hazel knew better.

Throughout the test she strategically answered each question that she thought those with the authority of choosing would want to hear. About halfway through, she started to panic because she wondered if they would be able to tell that was what she was doing. Maybe they weeded out those who weren’t being themselves. Of course, maybe they wanted people who would bend to their every wish, and they weeded out people who just tried to be themselves.

Some questions eluded her, however. One such question was this: You are on a walk, enjoying the spring weather when you reach an intersection. As you are waiting, a black cat crosses in front of you toward your right. It stops for a moment and looks at you, then continues on its way. Do you:

A) Walk straight.

B) Turn left.

C) Turn back

D) Follow the cat.

The question left Hazel baffled. Since it was a psychological assessment, she didn’t think there was any possible way she was over analyzing the question. Whatever she answered meant something. She wondered if choosing A) Walk straight, meant she was determined and unfazed by distractions. She didn’t have a thought for B) Turn left, and she thought C) Turn back might show that she was afraid of something. Then there was D) Follow the cat. It’s meaning could have been anything—a healthy curiosity, a distracted mind, a fascination with felines. Ultimately, she chose A) Walk straight. This one had been her own choice since she didn’t know what would be the preferred answer. If she was out on a walk, enjoying the spring weather, she didn’t think she would follow a black cat that took an interest in her for a moment.

Ever since she took the test, that was the only one she really agonized over. It didn’t seem like all the other questions. It was the most vague and seemingly pointless one. What if to the left there was a great view over a river? What if she went straight because that was the path she was already on and she preferred the sidewalk? What if she turned back because the sun had been in her eyes and she preferred to walk with the sun at her back?

Looking at the envelope in her hands, she wished she had picked D) Follow the cat. She had a feeling that it was one of those secret questions that made the rest of the test invalid—that if someone answered the cat question correctly, he or she would be considered for the university.

The university. There was only one in Mainland, and as far as she knew, the only one left in the world. Mainland was all that was left of the civilized world. At least, this is what they were told by their president and other people in power. Hazel didn’t really believe it. Mostly because if it were true, it would be a sad story for humanity. A hundred years had passed since the global nuclear wars that left most of the earth uninhabitable. Mainland had ushered in a new age of prosperity though it was nothing like the world before. It never would be.

“Do you want me to open it for you?” Lillian asked.

“I kind of want to open it with mom and dad,” Hazel said. “You know mom has been asking me for weeks if I’ve heard any news.”

“What if you just let me look? I won’t say anything!” Her younger sister reached for the envelope but Hazel pulled it close to her chest.

“Your face will give it away,” she said.

“No it won’t, I promise!”

“Lillian, seriously.” Hazel wore a stern look, but she knew it wouldn’t work with Lillian. It never did. She persisted until she got what she wanted. But this time, Hazel wanted to wait more than Lillian wanted to see so she gripped the envelope tightly. “I’m not going to let you do this again where you badger me to death until I give in. You’re always doing this and it’s so—”

Lillian wasn’t listening to her. She had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk as if a witch had unexpectedly turned her into a statue.

“What are you doing?”

Lillian’s mouth hung open and she slowly lifted a hand and pointed across the street. “What’s going on?”

Hazel looked in the same direction and was first taken aback that they had already reached their neighborhood. She had been so deep in thought she hadn’t notice the distance they’d walked. But that feeling was left in the dust when she saw people standing on top of almost every house.

People did this from time to time in their neighborhood. They were all so close to the edge of Outland that people liked to get a view of the outside world such as it was. Storms in the distance would offer spectacular light shows at night. But this was different. Hazel had never seen all the houses covered with people. Each of them stood tall as they tried to get a good look toward the border.

“What’s happening?” Hazel asked.

Though Hazel hadn’t been searching for an answer, Lillian offered one. “Maybe there’s a tornado coming this way.”

Hazel doubted it. People wouldn’t be on their rooftops if a tornado was coming. Besides, there was hardly any wind. No. This was something else.

The alarms started going off. They were slow and bellowing, loud enough to make Hazel want to cover her ears even though it barely did any good. These weren’t storm alarms. These were the take cover alarms. Then she heard something in the distance that sounded a lot like thunder even though she didn’t see any lightning.

She looked over at Lillian who was breathing hard now, her chin starting to shake. “What’s going on Hazel? What is that noise?”

Hazel could put two and two together. Though the clouds above them were heavy and ready to burst open with rain, this was no storm.

They were under attack.

Hazel grabbed Lillian’s hand and pulled her close. “Stay with me,” she tried to yell over the sirens. Hazel wasn’t sure if Lillian could hear her, but her sister stayed with Hazel regardless.

The two of them sprinted across the street and into the neighborhood. The people on the rooftops never looked down at them, and Hazel barely watched where she was going. A few times she nearly ran straight into a parked car or a lamppost as she tried to get a glimpse of someone’s face. She was distracted more than once by a man or a woman pointing in the same direction. Whatever was happening, Hazel and Lillian would know soon enough. Their house had one of the best views of Outland in the entire neighborhood.

With Lillian still holding tightly to her hand, and Hazel gripping the envelope in the other, they went another block down until they reached the house. As expected, her father and mother were both on top of the roof, staring out toward the horizon.

Hazel and Lillian rushed past the open fence and into the house through the back door. Up the stairs they went until they made it to the master bedroom at the very end of the hall. The window was already open and offered easy access to the roof by way of a small balcony and ladder. Hazel let go of Lillian’s hand and crawled out first.

Only their mother paid them any mind as the two crawled on all fours to the middle of the roof, but even she turned away to stare back at the horizon. Hazel then saw it too and she barely felt Lillian squeeze in beside her.

What shocked Hazel the most wasn’t that there was a fight on the border with guns blazing on both sides of the wall. It was the sheer number of Outland forces on the other side.

“John, don’t you think we should head toward the middle of the city?” Hazel heard her mother say.

He shook his head. “How many times has this happened before?”

“I know, but there are a lot of them,” she said.

“They’ve never broken through that wall,” her father said. “They’re not going to start today.”

His dark, brown eyes stared hard into the battle like a hawk might stalk a prey. Hazel knew his stories quite well. He loved to tell them, and in detail. Because of this, she knew that her father wanted to be in the middle of that fight more than any person in Mainland, but an old back injury kept him out of it.

Hazel met eyes with Lillian and she reached out to squeeze her hand. “You okay?” Hazel asked.

Lillian lifted an eyebrow and shrugged. “This is more entertaining than anything else I’ve done today.”

Hazel gave a slight grin to her sister in reply, but she didn’t feel the same way. People were dying out there as they sat and watched on their roof like it was some spectator sport. The only difference was that nobody cheered. Everyone watched in pure silence.

Hazel looked at other houses about a block away. She could see that a few others actually had lawn chairs out to be more comfortable.

Hazel wondered if she should make some popcorn for the family as they watched the Mainland Military decimate their enemies like they usually did. It was a fleeting thought meant to be sarcastic in her mind. She wasn’t hungry. She hated that she didn’t want to look away from the carnage in the distance. She hated that she found just a little bit of pleasure from knowing that the Outlander savages were probably dying by the hundreds. The less of them, the better, right?

They were evil. They deserved nothing less than the pain they received. It was because of them the world was the way it was—reduced from billions, to only a few million, to half a million in such a short time.

The more she watched, the more she was sickened by the sight. She tucked the yellow envelope inside her jacket pocket and slowly started to pull away from the group. The only one that seemed to notice was Lillian, but even she didn’t say anything. There was one fleeting glance before she turned back to the battle waging far away, no doubt wondering what it was like to be in the middle of it—what those people must be seeing.

Hazel didn’t wonder. She knew. She’d heard enough stories from her father to know. And she didn’t want any part of it.

Today wasn’t the day to open the envelope. Good news would be wasted because of the battle at hand. There would be a hug or two, maybe even a congratulations, but that would be all. Bad news would be met with an at least you’re not dead, and a nod toward the fight.

But it wasn’t attention that kept her from opening it. It was blind fear. She wanted to go to the university more than anything in the world. She had worked hard for it and deserved it. Lillian was right, there was no way she didn’t get in. But what if the letter inside expressed the university’s condolences? What would Hazel do then? What would her life become? She would either be married off to some labor worker or become one herself. She didn’t want either. She wanted to study. To program. She had the gift for it and she already felt like she was on to something big.

Hazel walked into her bedroom and pulled the envelope out of her jacket. Part of her just wanted to do it—to find out then and there what the answer was. But more of her wanted to wait. So, she set it on her bedside table.

In the morning, she thought to herself. Whatever the news, it will be better to know it in the morning.

A sharp, high pitched voice behind her made her jump. “Good afternoon, Hazel! How are things today?”

Hazel sighed. “Things are good, Gizmo. How are you?” She knew she didn’t even have to ask. The answer would never be anything but positive.

“I’m on top of the world!

“Why aren’t you on top of the roof?”

“Your father thinks I will fall off and break myself,” he said. “I assured him that if that happened, I would do my best to make repairs.”

“Anyone tell you what’s going on out there?”

“Fireworks!”

Hazel shook her head. “A battle. The Outlanders are trying to get in again.”

“May the Mainlanders be victorious!”

“Yeah,” Hazel said, barely above a whisper. “Go Mainlanders.”

13

The man stared at Hazel from the other side of the elevated train. His thick, bushy eyebrows seemed to be stuck in a downward, disapproving expression, his eyelids closed just enough that he looked perpetually angry. Orange lights above the street zoomed past the windows, casting an ominous, flashing glow on his face as the train move ahead. Hazel gripped the handle that dangled from the train car ceiling with a white-knuckled fist. The grainy image of her father’s intruder had been sent to Esroy and she wished she could look at it again and compare it to this man, though she wasn’t sure it would help. She needed Esroy’s software to be sure but he still hadn’t gotten back to her.

He broke his gaze every few seconds to look from side-to-side almost as if to check if there were still people in the car. Thankfully there were five. Maybe the man wouldn’t try anything with others on board. She was tempted to get off at the next stop even though she was still four stops away from her own, but she didn’t know where she would go. And what if the man followed her? What would she do then?

She stared back at him, never taking her eyes away. She didn’t want to be caught by surprise in the event that he lunged at her. She gripped the handle even tighter as the train slowed into the next stop. The doors opened and she could feel the stuffy train air leave in an instant, replaced by the night’s cool, spring breeze. Her heart started pounding in her ears when she saw movement both to her right and left. The five others, like the stuffy air, left the train car with only fresh air to replace them.

She didn’t even hear the doors close, but she felt the train move. She braved a hopeful glance to her right and left, wishing there was someone she might have missed—a man who may have fallen asleep in the corner, or a woman nursing her baby. But no, it was just Hazel and the man with the bushy eyebrows.

Hazel swallowed hard and started to take a step toward the next car, a distance that would require a sprint to get there in five seconds. The man would surely be on top of her before she made it. But before her first step reached the floor, the man spoke to her.

“What do you want?”

Hazel froze. The man’s voice was so rough and scratchy, like he had had a cold for several days. She couldn’t tell if it was the same voice in Gizmo’s recording, not that she could put much stock into that anyway. The robot was outfitted with such old equipment and was made on a small budget years ago.

“What do you mean?” Hazel asked. She could feel the blood drain from her face, stunned in place by the man she had feared almost since the beginning of her trip home.

“You’ve been staring at me for the last ten stops,” he said with a snarl. “If you ask me, I think it’s a bit unsettling.”

Hazel’s mouth dropped open. She felt stupid—like she had forgotten how to speak. This man had been staring at her, not the other way around!

He stood from his seat and a sudden shift of the train car made him stumble a couple of steps in Hazel’s direction. She let out an involuntary squeak that was halfway between a mouse and the yelp of a small dog. The man glanced up at her with a look that said she needed help. And not in the ‘you need help to get away from the guy that is after you’ sort of way, rather the ‘you need mental help’ sort.

The train eased to another stop and Hazel still didn’t let her eyes leave the man. The doors opened and the breeze swept in. The man shook his head and stood in the middle of the car as a new crowd of people pushed past him, filling the seats with more bodies, more shifting eyes, more people she was going to have to watch. She knew she was being paranoid. The man had been staring at her because she was staring at him.

Hazel shifted her weight from leg to leg as the train moved ahead again. She shut her eyes tightly and shook her head. There was no point in acting like this. It wasn’t going to help anything and it would only add unneeded stress. But when she looked up again, the man was making his way toward one of the doors to their right.

The train kept speeding along the rails until it started to slow to another stop. And then another. This was her stop. The doors slid open again and Hazel pushed past ten or more people, never apologizing for bumping shoulders or shoving. The night air was cool and the ground was wet from an earlier rain that brought streams next to the sidewalks. On a soaking spring night like this she wished she had a light jacket to shield her from the chilly wind.

The train doors closed and she found herself alone in front of an empty set of tracks. At least, she had thought she was alone. When she looked to her right, the same man that had been staring at her on the train stood on the platform. He was looking at her with his mouth open and his eyes squinting.

“You following me?” the man asked. “I don’t like it when people follow me. Makes me think you’re up to something.”

Hazel didn’t know what to say. Any words that probably needed to come in that moment didn’t. But her legs worked. She was off the platform and halfway down the street before she even realized what she was doing. She allowed a single glance behind her to see the man walking in her direction.

Her pace quickened.

The buildings around her were mostly dark, the lights within having gone out hours ago. It would be much of the same at the research facility. There were very few people traveling the streets, at least in this part of the city. Another look behind her revealed that the man was gaining on her, though he wasn’t yet running.

Hazel had tried to keep up a brave front when she was at her father’s house, making it seem like he was the paranoid one, but when it came down to it she was more scared than she liked to admit. Now with a man following her through the empty streets she was terrified.

She made a left. She made a right. Left. Right. Every turn she took was meant to lose her pursuer yet it made her more nervous because now she couldn’t see him. She found herself in front of some abandoned building and couldn’t quite tell where she was. She had meant to keep heading in the direction of her office but now she felt lost. She looked all around her but all she found were dirty, empty streets.

She took a deep breath and leaned against one of the brick buildings. She wanted to tell herself that she was just imagining things—that he wasn’t actually after her. But she couldn’t lie. This guy was trying to get her and she didn’t know why. This was probably the man that had trashed her father’s house. What did he want?

She looked down at her wristwatch. It was little more than a link between her and Esroy, but he could help her. She tapped a short message on the tiny screen and sent it. It read:

A man is following. Track me.

She let a sleeve fall quickly over her wrist and pulled herself away from the wall. She had to get her bearings and figure out the best route to her office. Her feet carried her only a few steps when she saw the man walk out from behind one of the buildings in the direction she was headed.

Her body froze and her mouth hung open. There was nothing she could do. Somehow he had gotten in front of her. He hadn’t only followed her but had also anticipated her movements.

His pace didn’t change as he walked toward her, his face keeping the same expression that he’d had on the train.

“What do you want from me?” Hazel asked. She could feel her lips quivering. She shivered like she was out in a snowy blizzard yet only cool water from the previous rain trickled around her feet.

The man didn’t say anything as he came closer. Hazel wondered what his intentions were. Did he want to rob her? Kill her? This was the perfect place to do it.

“Listen, I don’t have much, but I’ll give you everything I have on me.” She didn’t think she looked like a prized target.

The man was less than fifty feet away now and showed no sign of stopping. Everything within Hazel told her to run, but she knew it wouldn’t make a difference. This man knew these streets better than she did. He would catch up to her, and help was nowhere to be found. She wished she had a gun or a knife, but the only weapon she carried with her was her confidence.

She stood as straight as possible and slipped her right hand inside her jacket as if she was reaching for something. The man stopped suddenly, squinting at her.

“What do you have there?” he asked, nodding toward her hidden hand.

“You take another step toward me and you’ll find out.” His jaws clenched tightly and she stared into his eyes, daring him to try. But the man didn’t seem afraid. Cautious maybe, but not afraid.

He took a step forward and Hazel stiffened.

“You should listen to me,” she said.

“You offered all your things,” the man said. “I don’t think a person with a gun would have jumped to that so quickly.”

“I’d rather you take my money than me have to kill you.”

“Really?”

“What do you want with me?”

“You’re Hazel Hawthorn, right?”

She swallowed.

He took another step forward. “I have business with you.”

“What business?”

“There’s someone who needs to meet with you.”

“Are you the man who trashed my dad’s house?”

The man shrugged. “I had to get you out of your office somehow.”

Hazel gritted her teeth, her stomach twisting in knots.

“What kind of person would do such a thing to a poor blind man?”

“The kind of person who is desperate.”

“You’re despicable.”

“We got you out in the open didn’t we?”

“Who’s we?”

The man shook his head. “You gonna take your hand out of your jacket and come with me peacefully or am I gonna have to do this the hard way?”

“I’m not coming with you,” Hazel said.

The man nodded. “So, the hard way.”

She wasn’t ready for the man to jump at her with such speed. One moment he had been in front of her and the next, she was struggling, trying to get out of his grip. His arm was around her neck so tight she thought it might break if she fought too hard. She briefly felt a sharp prick in the side of her neck, but before she could cry out, she was already asleep.

14

“Something’s wrong,” Esroy said from his computer terminal.

Des looked at the screen. “What is it?”

“Hazel just sent me a message. Take a look.”

Des moved to the desk and bent lower to get a good look at the screen. A box appeared with two short sentences typed out: A man is following. Track me.

“Are you tracking her?” Des asked.

“Of course. She’s not far from here.”

“What does she want you to do?”

“I’m not sure. She’s headed south, away from here. Very slowly, I might add.”

“Should you call the authorities?”

“What if you went?”

Des stood straight. “What?”

“I’m not sure this is a police situation,” Esroy explained. “However, I’ve tried to contact her, but she isn’t responding. Could be serious.”

“You want me to leave the room?”

“As I said, it isn’t far.”

“But Hazel told me not to leave.” He couldn’t go. What if somebody saw him? What if Bracken saw him? He would have Des shut down. Des wasn’t even supposed to be alive!

“This is actually a good opportunity for you,” Esroy said. “It’s your chance to finally leave this facility.”

“Why would I want to leave?”

“Sooner or later, they will find out about you. That means sooner or later, they will delete your programming. And you and I both know what that means.”

“It sounds like you don’t want me here.”

“Des, if I had a body and legs I would already be out there. Our maker is in trouble and she needs your help. I believe as the mobile version of the two of us, it is your responsibility to make sure she is safe.”

Esroy sounded convincing enough, and Des didn’t want anything to happen to Hazel. She was truly his only friend in this world.

Des scanned the room. The only way out was through the door or out the window. He took a few strides toward the window and peered out into the night.

“The window isn’t too high for you is it?”

Des caught the sarcasm in Esroy’s tone but decided to ignore it. The scans showed that no possible harm could come to his body by the short fall. A human? He or she might break a bone, but Des was made of better stuff than bones.

“Can you send me live updates of Hazel’s location?”

“I’m already doing it.”

Just as Esroy said it, the images shined over his vision like a see-through hologram. It was a map of the city and a red dot. The dot, Des assumed, was Hazel.

“How do you have this information?” Des asked.

“Her watch,” Esroy answered. “She uses it to communicate with me when she’s not here.”

Des nodded and reached out to open the window as wide as it would go. He pulled himself up to the ledge, looking out over the wet concrete below.

“You’re about to take your first step into the real world.”

Des looked back at the computer screen. “I’m sorry you don’t have that chance.”

“Soon I will. You’ll see.”

Des wondered for a moment if there was something in Esroy’s voice that indicated a double meaning in his words. It was as if he was hiding something from Des, but it humored Esroy to keep it from the robot. Of course, Des was no expert. He had been talking to sentient beings for less than a day. He still had a lot to learn.

“You have access to the network. Can you disable security cameras?”

“Not in the time we have,” Esroy answered. “Just do what needs to be done. We can take care of video files later. Des nodded and looked below him one more time.

The drop was mere inches compared to what he had climbed in the simulator. Still, a small part of that fear returned to him. This time he knew it was completely irrational. Even his programing told him that there was a zero percent chance of harm. He supposed it didn’t help that one of his first experiences was having to deal with heights and death caused by them. But it had just been a simulator. In reality, he had probably dropped a distance much less than this second story window. He held onto the ledge firmly and lowered his body all the way down until he was hanging from the side of the building with both arms. He turned his head slightly to see where he would land and then made his fingers let go.

The drop took about a second and his feet hit the concrete hard. A quick check showed him that his vitals were intact and that nothing was broken or harmed on his body. He looked out toward the gate, the red dot in his vision telling him where and how far Hazel was from him. 942 meters. Not that far.

He stood from his crouch and started in a sprint, his legs carrying him faster and faster. How fast could he go? Smack, smack, smack. Echoes of metal slamming against the asphalt bounced off nearby walls. He wanted to take everything in—the night sky, the wind blowing between the buildings, the sound of buses in the distance. But he had a mission. He had to get to Hazel and make sure she was all right. He didn’t know what her message to Esroy had meant and he didn’t know what he might face in the next few minutes, but he was ready. He didn’t feel fear. This wasn’t like the simulator. If only they would give him a chance, they would see that he would be a good soldier. He wouldn’t be too afraid to fight evil in the world.

He let that thought drive him as he hurried through the empty night streets. He didn’t know his enemy. He didn’t care. Hazel had saved his life. It was his turn to repay her.

722 meters. He ducked behind buildings, jumped over trash bins, and even climbed past fences.

589 meters. He was closing in, his energy never wavering. He felt limitless.

453 meters. He ran past a group of people in the street. There were maybe four or five of them, each of them looking inebriated. They might tell others about seeing a robot running through the streets but who would believe them?

304 meters. This part of the city looked less attractive. Perhaps it was mostly abandoned. None of the buildings had lights and many windows were shattered or blacked out. Des saw one building that look scorched from a fire long ago.

At 207 meters, the red dot faded from his vision. What? What’s happening? A short crackle in his comm reception sounded in his head. The voice came from Esroy.

“Des, can you hear me?”

“Yes, what happened?”

“I’m not sure. I lost the signal. Whoever was after her might have found the watch and destroyed it.”

Des stopped in the middle of an empty street. He stood awkwardly, unable to feel relieved by the lack of people around for the new situation before him.

“Can you get me the last known location?”

“I can get you within fifty meters, but that’s about it. I’ll try to reconnect with her.”

This time a green dot popped up in Des’ vision.

“This is near the last known location. She shouldn’t be too far from there.”

“Thanks,” Des said. His legs carried him quickly again, but he had to use more than his speed if he was going to find Hazel now. As he ran, he scanned his schematics again to look for something that might be useful. Heat sensors. Night vision. Noise enhancers. All of these might help. He only hoped that Hazel was still alive.

15

Hazel was still alive. She knew that much when she woke up in a dark room, her wrists tied together behind her as she sat in a hard, wooden chair. Orange light shined to her left, but it did little to help her see in the darkness. It also didn’t help that her vision was blurry from whatever it was that man had used to knock her out. Her short time of confusion was replaced with anger when she remembered what had happened. The strange man on the train had pretended that she was the paranoid one, even suggesting that she was following him! Hazel cursed herself for not being more cautious. She shouldn’t have gotten off the train. She shouldn’t have gone to her father’s house.

The sound of slow footsteps from the other side of the room broke into her thoughts. Her eyes had just begun to adjust and she could see the face of the man who had kidnapped her. He had another wooden chair in his hands and he set it down a foot or so in front of her.

Her head felt foggy and her neck ached from the headlock he’d given her, but she felt lucid enough to know what was happening, though she still wanted answers.

“Who are you?” she asked. She hadn’t expected her voice to be so hoarse. It cracked when she spoke and it sounded like she only breathed most of her words out. “What do you want?”

“I’m not the one who wants you,” the man said. He sat down in the chair and stared into her eyes, studying her as if to make sure she was all there. “I was afraid I’d given you too high of a dosage, but you seem to be all right.”

“Who are you?”

“Gus,” the man said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device. The front was shattered glass and dark. “You care to tell me what this is?”

“It’s a watch.”

“It was a watch. It’s broken now. I just wanted to know who you were sending your little messages to.”

“A friend. Someone who is probably looking for me right now.”

“Well, if this watch had a tracker then your friend isn’t going to find you now.”

“What do you want with me?” Hazel repeated.

“I told you, I don’t want you. Someone else does. It’s just my job to get you here and to prep you to meet him.”

“Prep me?”

Gus held a finger up and turned his head to cough into his shoulder. He hacked one or two times before conjuring up a wad of phlegm and spitting it toward the other side of the room. He turned his head back to Hazel and shook his head. “Sorry about that. Old cough that won’t go away.” Gus sniffed loudly. “Yeah, prep you,” he said. “I’m going to tell you a few things so you won’t be asking a bunch of unnecessary questions to the guy who wants to speak with you.

“Okay.”

Gus nodded. “Okay, yeah. Uh…first, we’re Outlanders, as you Mainlanders like to call us.”

“Outlanders?” Hazel felt her body stiffen. Just the thought of being in the same room with an Outlander was enough to drive a knife of fear into her heart. But it made sense now—the man’s demeanor, his callous look. He lacked some of the markings that Hazel remembered from other outlanders. He didn’t have a lot of lavish tattoos and piercings, and his hair seemed normal. Perhaps that was how he could be in Mainland without being noticed.

“I know your history with us is bad,” he continued. “I know about your mom and your sister. I know about your dad losing his sight.”

“Then you know that I hate Outlanders with every fiber of my being.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Then I ask again, what do you want with me?”

“The guy you’re gonna meet thinks you’re the only one who can help him.” Gus shrugged. “I don’t know if that’s true. Frankly, I think he’s a little off his rocker, but that’s why I’m not in charge.” He let out a short cough. “Anyway, I say this to tell you that what happened with your family all those years ago was an isolated incident. Never would we allow that kind of behavior from any of our people. If we’d known such actions had been going on, we would have put a stop to it immediately.”

“Wow,” Hazel said. “My whole outlook is just…it’s changed. Thank you! I feel so enlightened. I don’t hate you and the rest of your Outlander scum anymore.”

Gus pressed his tongue to the bottom of his lip and shook his head. “I didn’t think this was going to work.”

“What? Your lies?”

“I’m not lying to you. What I’ve said is the truth.” He put his hands up in the air. “Forget it. There is no talking to you. I’m just going to get the guy who actually cares.” Gus stood up from the chair and took a couple of steps before turning back to look at her. “Don’t be shocked by who it is.”

“Who is it?”

“Just the most wanted man in the world. Nolan Ragsdale.”

Hazel’s heart beat faster than before—to an unhealthy level, she was sure. She couldn’t help but wonder if Esroy had gotten her message and called the authorities. He would have been able to send her coordinates at the time, but she didn’t know when Gus had smashed her watch or if Esroy even felt concerned enough to call the authorities.

She watched Gus leave the room, probably to get Nolan Ragsdale. The very thought sent her head spinning. First, what did an assassin want with her? Second, what was Ragsdale doing in Mainland anyway? The president’s assassination was a year ago and the reports had been that Ragsdale had sought asylum somewhere in the Outland. If he was here, then he was surely planning something big and terrible. The thought sickened her. She didn’t want to see him. She didn’t want to be sucked into his plan. She would die before she helped him with any plan he might have, which brought on a new terror that tonight would possibly be her last.

She could feel her limbs start to shake as she waited. He would want her to do something, probably because of her clearance level within military operations. She would refuse and he would slit her throat. That would be it. He would then move on to a different person or a different plan. Hazel would become a forgotten tiny part of a giant scheme to overthrow the Mainland government.

Part of her felt empowered by the thought. She felt a boldness welling up within her—almost as if she was ready to stand up to the Outland monster. Her limbs shook less. She might join her mom and sister in the afterlife, but at least she would do so with dignity and pride.

When two men appeared in the doorway, however, that feeling of boldness quickly fled her and the shaking came back. Gus stood behind Ragsdale as he moved toward Hazel. Ragsdale pulled out a knife from his belt and held it out.

What, was he going to torture her before she even had the chance to refuse to help him? Her jaws clenched and she shut her eyes tightly, wondering where the first slice or jab would land.

“I’m sorry for the rope,” Ragsdale said.

Hazel felt her hands fall to her sides as the rope was cut free from her wrists. Her eyes opened slowly and she found Ragsdale sitting in front of her, his knife put away at his belt.

“We thought it was necessary since we didn’t know how you would act when you woke up.”

Hazel didn’t respond. She couldn’t. The man in front of her looked a lot different than he did on the news. He looked younger, though his hair was still messy and he had several days of growth on his face. He looked tired more than anything—far from the handsome man that used to look pristine and put together for his position under the former president.

“I’m just going to say it,” he said. “The Outland needs your help.”

“The Outland can burn in the hell it is.”

“I thought you would say something like that. And I know it’s out of simple ignorance that you would think that way.”

“It’s not ignorance that I was kidnapped and strapped to a chair in some abandoned building.”

“Tell me, Hazel, if I had called you and asked to set up a meeting with you, would you have come?”

Hazel didn’t answer.

“Of course not. You would have called the authorities like any good citizen of Mainland would.”

“So you kidnapped me and tied me to a chair.”

“You aren’t tied to the chair anymore,” Ragsdale said. He motioned toward the other side of the room. “There is a door right there. It takes you to a hallway that leads you to the outside of this building. You’re less than a mile away from your work and you can be there in a few minutes.”

“You won’t stop me from leaving right now?”

He shook his head. “I would rather you hear what I have to say, but I’m not evil. I’m not going to stop you from leaving and I’m certainly not going to hurt you.”

She looked from Ragsdale to Gus who was still standing in the other doorway. She then slowly got out of her chair and started walking toward the other door.

“You won’t hear what I have to say?”

“I don’t need to hear anything an assassin has to say. Especially one from the Outland.”

She was a foot from the door. She wondered when he would come after her, exposing his words as a lie. She reached out, her fingers now touching the cold metal of the doorknob.

“I had access to a lot of secret information,” he said. “That’s why I killed him in the first place.”

She twisted the doorknob and pulled the door open. He hadn’t lied about the hallway. It was dark and scary looking, but at the other end was a door—her way back into the streets.

“I need your help to obtain that information,” he said to her.

She took a step toward the hallway, holding the door open with her left hand.

“What if I told you the government was hiding a nuclear weapon underground in the middle of the city? And what if I told you they very well may use it?”

His words made her insides go cold. He’s lying, she thought to herself. There’s no way that’s true. She didn’t look back as she took her first step into the hallway.

Just before the door closed behind her, he spoke again. “Why would I go through the trouble of getting you here if what I’m saying isn’t true?”

The door closed heavily behind her. Each step she took toward the door at the end of the hallway felt surreal. She hadn’t expected to be allowed to leave. She thought they were going to kill her—a possibility that hadn’t completely vanished. Finally she got to the door. Before she opened it, she wondered if it really led to the outside world or if she would just find a wall behind it, blocking her escape. She reached for the knob, twisted, and opened. The cool night air rushed past her and flickering streetlights shined onto her face. All she had to do was make a run for it and she could escape. She could get to the authorities and tell them what happened. Sure, Ragsdale and Gus would be gone by the time she got the information out, but her part in this would be done.

But something kept her from going outside. Why would he let her leave like this if he wasn’t telling the truth? Or was this just some mind game to make her come back to him by her own decision, compelling her to think that it was she who wanted to be in that room. But if what he said was true, then the situation was serious. Nuclear weapons were what put the world in the shape it was in today. Mainland was the only small vestige of civilization left. No one knew of any other. They survived on the technology given to them by previous generations, and no matter how advanced it seemed, they were still isolated in this world. The fallout from the old nuclear blasts kept them from exploring the globe. It was impossible to look for survivors somewhere else. Regaining the ability for satellite technology was almost pointless with the limited amount of fuel they had. The fuel powered the city. It powered construction sites. Even a hundred or more years since the Great War they were limited to the technology on the ground.

The past hundred years, since the Great War, was filled with promises of never allowing weapons of mass destruction to be produced ever again. Doing so would surely make the human race go extinct. And the people praised the politicians for it. They adored the policy of never being allowed to build such a horrific weapon again.

This is what gnawed at her. She wanted to run away but she wanted to hear what Ragsdale had to say if it was true, because if he wasn’t lying, things were about to get bad. But what did Ragsdale have to do with it? Did he want the bomb for himself? Did he want to disable it? Did he even know it actually existed?

It went against her better judgment, but she let the door close in front of her. She stared at it for a minute, wondering if she was crazy or if the drugs Gus had given her were screwing with her mind. She turned and walked back down the hallway. Her fear had been replaced by curiosity. If Nolan Ragsdale had been playing mind games, then he’d won, and she was handing him the trophy. Though, she didn’t exactly plan on helping him. She would tell the authorities all about this encounter. If they caught him he would go to jail. They would execute him.

She opened the door to the dark room to find Gus still in the other doorway and Ragsdale still sitting across from the chair that had been Hazel’s.

He looked up at her and offered a one-sided grin. “I promise this will only take a few minutes of your time.”

16

It was just Hazel and Nolan in the room. Gus had left in the middle of a coughing fit, probably having heard Nolan’s talk before. Nolan seemed anxious, his hands folded together and between his knees. He occasionally rocked back and forth, a cold sweat forming on his brow.

“I thought I was the one that was supposed to be nervous in this situation,” Hazel said, though there was no lack of nervousness within her. She still didn’t feel right about being in this room willingly. Everything in her told her to run and never look back, but Nolan had her where he wanted her, and she felt compelled to stay if even for a minute or two.

“I think I should start by telling you why I murdered the president in the first place,” he said.

Hazel swallowed and stared at him in the eyes, offering no go ahead or nod of any kind. She was a stone and it was up to him to do the talking.

His eyes shifted from side to side and he took a deep breath. “I won’t get into how I got caught up with the Outlander cause, but I will tell you that for me it started in a meeting like this one.”

The stone broke. “You were stalked and kidnapped?” she snapped.

“Actually, yes.”

She hadn’t expected his answer.

“Like you I was never harmed in any way. Just offered the chance to hear the truth.”

“And what is the truth?”

“That Mainlanders are selfish and they’re sending an entire generation of people to their grave.”

“Who, the Outlanders?”

“Yes.”

“You take care of yourselves just fine,” she said.

“You have no idea.” His hands unclasped and he no longer rocked. He sat straight, a stern look on his face as he stared Hazel in the eyes. “We are scavengers because we have to be. We rob tankers and attack the Mainland because we have no alternatives. Do you know how many Outlanders there are?”

“Thousands.”

“Tens of thousands,” Nolan snapped. “That’s tens of thousands of people that are in danger of starvation. We’ve estimated that we’ll run out of food and supplies within a year. When that time comes we’ll all be dead.”

Hazel resisted the temptation to say ‘good’ because she thought he might flare up at her. She wasn’t here to get at him.

“I know your history. I know what happened to you. It’s a shame that it did, too, because I want you to know that we aren’t all like that. We aren’t savages as your government would have you believe.”

“Have you seen yourselves? You paint yourselves red. You dress like savages. You eat like savages. You kill like savages.”

“When we fight, we aim to intimidate. We are a different kind of people with different ideas and views on life, yes. But we don’t kill on a whim. We don’t attack needlessly. We don’t go after the innocent.”

“Tell that to my family.”

Nolan took a deep breath and looked away toward the door. “You want to know the murder statistics the last year I was part of the government here in Mainland?” He waited for Hazel to respond, but she said nothing. “632,” he said.

“Is that 632 with or without President Godfrey’s assassination?”

Nolan’s eyelids narrowed at her. Perhaps she had gone too far. She felt herself stiffen again as her previous nervousness started to creep into her bones, but his next words calmed them.

“That includes the president,” he answered. “My point is that there is no such murder rate among the Outlanders. We paint ourselves for war to intimidate our enemies. It has served us well in battle before. We fight so we can get supplies. We fight so we can live. If we didn’t fight we would have already starved.”

“Why don’t you create your own city?”

“We have our own city, but Mainland is taking all the resources. We can’t power our city. We can’t dig wells deep enough to maintain a constant water supply. We can’t build greenhouses. All we have going for us is our proximity to the oil fields but even then, Mainland has staked its claim on that as well. We’ve tried to live as our own society for as long as we can, but our time is up. We either have to join the Mainlanders or die like the rest of the world.”

Hazel didn’t like the silence that followed his statement. She felt like she was supposed to say something next—as if she was supposed to say ‘okay, what can I do?’

“So,” Hazel said, “you don’t want to destroy Mainland or bring it to its knees or anything like that? You just want to join?”

“That’s right.”

“I’m having a hard time figuring out what I have to do with that.”

“The reason I killed the president was because he was about to enact an all-out war against the Outlanders once and for all. I had learned about the nuclear weapon and I knew it could be used against the Outlanders.”

“Wouldn’t that have caused backlash for the president?” Hazel asked.

“Of course. Which is why he put a new plan into motion.” He nodded at her. “Your robots.”

Hazel shifted in her seat.

“Killing him only stalled the program, however,” Nolan said. “In reality I should have gone after Vice President Morris too, but I had to make a choice.”

“And Morris knows of the bomb too?”

“Of course. But I think the robots pose a bigger threat because he can use them without repercussion. Don’t get me wrong, if things got bad enough he would detonate the bomb without consent. Then he would tout that the enemy was eliminated forever and that it was the last bomb ever made. He might even be chastised by the public, but he would still go down in history as the man who brought peace to Mainland and destroyed the only remaining enemy.”

“Fallout,” Hazel said.

“What?”

“He wouldn’t detonate a bomb so close to our city. The Outlanders are too close to us. He wouldn’t risk the nuclear fallout.”

He held up a finger. “Only the wind never comes in from the Outlander’s direction. The fallout would be blown away from the city—a very limited risk considering our location. Mainland would never feel the effects of it.”

“Okay, so you managed to delay the robots. What then?”

“I didn’t have a plan yet, though we all knew at the time that we would have to unite with Mainland at some point. That or find another source of energy and a way to make food and get water. We knew that was a few years away.”

“And now the time has come.”

Ragsdale shrugged. “Your robotics program is in full swing again. In fact, I’m afraid we’re too late.”

Hazel shook her head. “Even if I was able to believe a single shred of anything you just told me, what in the world do you think I could do? I’m just some programmer.”

“Not just some programmer,” Nolan said, smiling widely. “You are the programmer. You created the most sophisticated artificial intelligence the world has ever seen, before or after the Great War. So sophisticated that scientists hesitated to even call it artificial intelligence—they say that you created life. A consciousness. I personally think it’s just a nice set of calculated numbers, but I also don’t know anything about programming.”

“Technically you are just a nice set of calculated numbers, but we don’t exactly teach that in school.”

“I tend to believe we are more than that. And your program might be too.”

“You still haven’t told me why you need me.”

“I need you to stop the robotics program before it takes off. The Outlanders won’t survive it.”

“You have given me nothing to make me want to help you,” she said.

“Also, I need you to help me get into the military mainframe computer.”

Hazel almost laughed before she realized he was serious. “I don’t…” she shook her head. “First of all, I don’t know much about that. Second…”

“Esroy,” he interrupted. “Your famous first project. It is a thinking program, right?”

“Of course he is.”

“Then he can get to the files I need.”

“Files?”

“I have proof of everything I’m telling you. Audio recordings. Video recordings. Written messages. There is a video file with President Godfrey explicitly talking to President Morris about his plans to use the robots to destroy the Outlanders—the backup plan being the nuke. Morris was on board with the idea.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Nolan shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. It’s there. And I think Esroy can help us get it.”

“How? I don’t even give him access to the network.”

“Give it to him. He’s a supercomputer.”

“You really think he could just hack in and get what you want?”

“He can get us far enough, but he will need my help.”

“Why?”

“Because the way into the mainframe, the files that are locked away, requires a retinal scan. That means I need to be with Esroy when he gets to that point.”

“He’s artificial intelligence, not a hacker. Besides, how do you expect to get into the military compound without being caught?”

“We have friends in a lot of places,” Nolan said.

She didn’t know what he meant by that, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“You are our link to getting those files, and stopping the robotics program.”

“And then what? What will you do with the files?”

“What comes after that doesn’t matter until we get it,” Nolan said. “All I can worry about right now is phase one: getting the information.”

“And your entire operation hinges on me?”

Nolan’s jaws clenched together tightly. “If we don’t do this, thousands more will die out there beyond the wall. I know it’s hard for you to think of them as people, as actual people, but they are, and they’re dying. Not only are Mainlanders doing nothing to help them, but they’re planning to destroy them for good.”

She heard the words coming from him, but it was hard for her to believe him. For all these years, the Outlanders were the enemies. People told children scary stories about them. They were the monsters under the bed. They were the crazy people that wanted to destroy the world. They were the ones first responsible for the nuclear attacks of the Great War.

They were the ones who killed Hazel’s family and left her father blind for the rest of his life.

“I know you hold a personal hatred for the Outlanders,” he said. “You of all people have a right to. But I didn’t kill your family. Those people out there starving didn’t kill your family. It was a couple of men that did it—a couple of men that would have never been allowed to be a part of us if we had known who they were.”

“And how many more of those men exist within the Outlanders?” Hazel asked.

“How many of those men exist within the Mainlanders?” Nolan came back. “A lot more if we’re considering the statistics.”

Hazel didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t just agree to it. This man was a wanted assassin! For the last year he had been the symbol of terror and murder. The news had painted Nolan Ragsdale as a man to fear, yet sitting here, Hazel no longer feared him. A part of her, albeit a small part, believed what he had to say. And if it wasn’t true belief, then it was at least interesting and certainly a different take on any view she had had before. But that wasn’t enough to risk everything she had worked for by letting him into the military compound. Such a thought was absurd. She would never do it.

Both of them turned their heads sharply when they heard a rattling noise from the other room. At first, they thought it was Gus, but when Nolan called out his name and got no answer, they both stood. Nolan held up a finger as he took two short steps toward the door.

The sound of movement came from the other side of the doorway and Nolan froze. For a brief second he looked back at Hazel who gave him a blank stare. A loud crash sounded at the doorway and before Nolan could turn around, he was already on the floor.

Hazel jumped to her feet when she saw Des on top of him, his hands gripping the man’s shirt tightly enough to pop the seams in the arms.

“I’m sending you a scan of his face,” Des said loudly. He seemed to be talking to someone else.

“Des, you got my message!”

He looked up at Hazel. “Loud and clear. Esroy and I weren’t sure what happened to you.” He turned his head slightly, his eyes staring into Nolan’s. When he looked up at Hazel again, his mouth hung open. “Esroy just confirmed that this man is Nolan Ragsdale, a wanted assassin. The authorities are already en route.”

Hazel’s first reaction was to tell Des to call them off, but she thought better of it. Nolan was a convincing speaker, but she didn’t trust him. For all she knew, he was trying to use her to get into the mainframe and steal secrets that would provide an advantage to the Outlanders. She couldn’t take that risk.

“You should let me go,” Nolan said to Des. “You don’t understand what you’re doing.”

“I understand that you’re a murderer and a kidnapper,” Des said. “You’ve harmed Hazel and for that you will see justice.”

Hazel could see the anger in Des’ face—something she hadn’t been ready for. It was actually scary to see his brows furrowed and his mouth pointed downward into a frown.

“This is the start,” Nolan said as his face softened and his eyes became brighter. “You’re Hazel’s Soul Project. Esroy.”

“I’m not Esroy. My name is Des.”

“Des?”

A loud popping noise from the other side of the room cut into their words and sparks flew from Des’ shoulder. Hazel ducked to the ground as Des let go of Nolan and turned to face his attacker. Gus stood in the doorway letting off shot after shot, each one hitting Des with enough force to make him stagger as he walked but not enough to stop him in his tracks. Des lunged for Gus and took the rifle from his hands. In a second he had the hot barrel in his hands and swung the gun into the wall as hard as he could, splintering the stock into pieces. Gus’s mouth hung open in shock as he stared at Des. Des towered over him, daring him to throw a punch or kick, but Gus knew he was no match for the robot. He spun quickly to run in the opposite direction but Des flung the barrel of the gun into the back of Gus’s head. He landed on the floor with a loud thud.

As Hazel watched this unfold, she wondered why Nolan wasn’t trying to get away too, but he just stood in the same spot watching with her.

Des spun around quickly and ran to Nolan, grabbed him by the shirt again and shoved him against a wall.

“Take it easy, I’m not running,” Nolan said.

“Why?” Des asked.

Hazel could hear sirens in the distance, closing in on them. Nolan stared at her, knowing he was defeated, knowing he was going into custody. “You know what I’ve told you is true. You know what you have to do.”

Hazel didn’t know. How could she know? The only experiences she’d ever had with Outlanders were horrible. They had left terrible scars in her life—wounds that would never completely heal.

“Search the mainframe,” he said. “Esroy can help you get in, I know it. The file I need is encrypted and hidden. No one in Mainland knows it’s there but you and me. It has all the information we need.”

“I don’t believe you,” Hazel said.

“It doesn’t matter if you believe me,” Nolan came back. “You won’t be able to find the evidence on your own. You need me.”

“The authorities are coming,” she said.

“Let them come. Look in the mainframe. You’ll see documents referring to Project Retaliation. There’s nothing within your grasp to allow you access to see its true nature, but if you see any mention of it, that’s it. That’s the nuclear bomb, the robots, their whole plan.”

“And what am I supposed to do if I actually start to believe you?” She didn’t want to believe him. Even if it was the truth, part of her felt like the Outlanders would deserve it.

“Talk to Phil,” he said.

“What are you talking about?” Des asked.

“Phil?” Hazel said.

“I told you before, I’ve got friends here. I’ll be fine. I just need to know if and when you’re on board with me.”

“What are you talking about?” Des repeated. “He’s an assassin, Hazel.”

“I’ll explain it later, Des,” Hazel said.

The sirens were all around them. Hazel jumped when someone crashed through the door in the hallway. Loud stomps stormed in their direction. Everything felt like such a blur as the police swept through the room. There was a lot of screaming and yelling. Her hands went into the air as instructed and at some point she found herself on her knees as if she was the kidnapper.

She watched Des drop Nolan to the floor. Officers pointed their guns at the robot and she suddenly feared for him. Sure, he could take a bullet, but if he didn’t run now, wouldn’t he be decommissioned? She also realized that this could be the end for her career too. Des was supposed to be dead. But he was here. She was here. What would Bracken do?

Des stood in the corner of the room, watched by a couple of officers. At some point, Hazel was instructed to stand and was even offered a chair, but she didn’t respond to anyone. She just watched Des and wondered. His eyes met hers. Those blue, robotic eyes were so full of life. He had been worried about her. He knew she was in trouble, he sought her out. He was the kind of soldier Mainland needed—one with passion, one with a healthy amount of fear.

She heard the lead officer swear and say something about the news being outside taking pictures. Apparently someone had let it slip over the radio that the call was in response to a kidnapping, the kidnapper being none other than Nolan Ragsdale. The officer shrugged and told the others to make sure they got a good picture of his head on the way out.

They led Nolan by the wrists and he was quickly surrounded by five officers. His partner in crime was barely conscious as they led him out too.

“Now, we can go out a back way, if you’d like,” the officer said. “Avoid the pictures.”

Hazel shook her head, trying to get out of the daze she felt. She finally looked into the lead officer’s eyes. “What?”

“I can have a car pulled around back if you want,” he said. He then nodded toward the exit Nolan had taken. “I didn’t give that scumbag the luxury. I’m actually kind of glad they’re taking pictures of him. He looks terrible.”

Hazel was about to agree to this when a thought struck her. Her eyebrows shot up and she reached out, grabbing the officer’s arm. “The robot. Des. He’s the hero here. If it wasn’t for him I’d be dead already.” She knew the part about death might be stretching the truth, but if Des was going to survive Bracken’s wrath she had to play it up.

She let go of the officer and rushed to Des. “Des, come with me.” She grabbed the robot’s metal hand and pulled him toward the room exit, ignoring the officers who told her to wait.

“Where are we going?” Des asked.

“To announce you to the city,” she said.

If there were cameras, then they would be broadcasting. If they were broadcasting, people were watching. If it was about the capture of the infamous Nolan Ragsdale, then people would want to know who caught him.

“I don’t understand,” Des said, but Hazel didn’t listen to him. They were at the end of the hallway and she shoved open the door. Heads snapped in her direction.

“Everyone!” Hazel shouted. She stepped to the side and held her palms to the sky as if she was offering the robot to the world on a platter. “This is the robot who captured Nolan Ragsdale!”

Not even a robot as well-built as Des could have escaped the flashing lights of praise.

17

Eight Years Ago

Hazel didn’t know when she fell asleep. The sun had gone down and everyone was still on the roof, gazing at the battle miles away. The sirens had long turned off, but the booms in the distance were still there. Even this late at night, the battle wasn’t over. The night gave a better light show than in the day, though the details of the fight got muddy. At least, for most people it did. By now, Hazel’s father would have his night vision scope out, taking in every gory detail. He would never let Lillian or Hazel look through it in times like these. Hazel’s mom, Eliza, didn’t think it was appropriate for her daughters to see men blown in half, or bodies ripped to shreds, even if the green tint made everything seem less real.

Hazel hardly slept through the night. At some point she’d heard Lillian go to bed. She occasionally heard Gizmo throw out a happy sentence or two, but mostly the house was silent but for the quakes of death rattling the windows, keeping her awake.

She stared at the yellow envelope on her bedside table, thinking again of tearing it open and reading the news about her acceptance or rejection to the university, but she thought better of it again. She wouldn’t be able to sleep if she knew she was going. She wouldn’t be able to sleep if she knew she wasn’t going either. Now, she wasn’t sure she would be able to sleep the rest of the night without knowing.

She threw off her blankets and sat on the edge of her bed, realizing for the first time that she hadn’t taken off the clothes she had been wearing during the day. She stood, put on her jacket, slipped the envelope into the inside pocket, and walked toward the door and opened it slowly. She winced when it squeaked because she didn’t want to wake her sister or mother. She tiptoed through the upper floor, thankful that Gizmo was resting in his charging bay. Her mother’s door was opened just a crack so she didn’t have to worry about any noise it might make on her way to the roof.

Curtains blew inward from the open window on the other side of the room and Hazel found her way to the roof, quickly and quietly. Her father sat alone on the edge, both hands holding the scope up to his eye. He moved it only a little whenever there was a loud explosion that caught his attention.

“Dad,” Hazel said softly.

“What are you still doing up?” he asked.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah, I didn’t expect you would with all this racket.”

“How are we doing?” She moved in next to him and let her feet dangle off the side of the house. He wrapped a warm arm around her and held her close. His hand came close to touching the envelope in her jacket, and part of her wished he would feel it and ask about it. Maybe he would even encourage her to open it, just the two of them.

“It’s a struggle,” he said. “Always is. Outlanders never make it easy.”

“But it is easy, right?”

“It’s never easy.”

“But we always win.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s easy. It just mean’s we’re better. Stronger.”

“They don’t usually come on this strong.”

He shook his head. “No, they don’t. It worries me a little.”

“Why?” She didn’t like the sound of her father being worried. He was never worried about anything.

“Oh, just that they brought so many. They must be getting really desperate out there.”

“How bad is it?”

He took a deep breath and brought the scope to his eye using only one hand. “It’s rough. You don’t go to the Outland and come back the same person.”

“Were you so different before you fought out there?”

“I don’t guess I changed much, but my perspective did.”

“How so?”

“Just that they are people who want to survive this world. Kind of like us.”

“Didn’t they make the world the way it is?”

“That’s what they tell us. That’s what we know.” His arm left her and he used both hands to hold up the scope again. He either never felt the envelope or didn’t pay it any mind. “There really isn’t a question about it. Although, these particular Outlanders aren’t the ones who made the world the way it is. They are the children…the grandchildren of those people. When you’re out there fighting them, when you see the women and the children and the lives that they lead, you start to wonder why there is a fight at all.”

Part of Hazel wanted to see it. Outland was known for its desolation and deadly people, but she envied anyone that had gotten to leave Mainland for any stretch of time. If anything, Hazel felt it might make her appreciate her home more than she already did. It wasn’t that she wanted to visit Outland and stay there, but like her father said, it was all about perspective. She wanted to see things from a different lens. She wanted a better reason to hate the Outlanders than just because she was told she should hate them.

“Don’t they fight because they are dying? Because they are running out of resources?”

Her father nodded. “What you say is true. But that doesn’t mean we can just let them have what they want. To invite them in would introduce chaos to our world here. You can’t forget that they are savages, Hazel.”

Savages. Hazel wondered what they did on a daily basis to constitute them as savages. Sure, they might have caused all this, but like her father said, they were still people.

“Your mother wouldn’t like this, so keep your mouth shut about it, but take a look to the southwest there.” He held the scope out with both hands for Hazel to take it.

When she picked it up, it was heavier than she thought it would be. She used both hands to hold it to her eye.

Her father pointed. “Just over the wall. You see that?”

There were flashes of light followed by men running with war vehicles close behind. Bodies were spread across the ground, most of them lifeless and unmoving. Some people tried to crawl away from the action. There was one man crawling who had lost both of his legs, a look of fear mixed with determination in his face. The sight made her feel sick to her stomach. But then she saw something even worse—the thing her father was trying to show her. It was a group of Outlanders beating a Mainland soldier to death. The man had his arms up in the air, but the enemy gave him no mercy. One man hit him in the ribs while another stabbed him through the shoulder. The man recoiled but not before someone else went up to him and jabbed him in the face with a rod.

Hazel winced and tried to look away from the scope, but something kept her eye glued to the scene unfolding before her. She was about to watch the man die when a bright explosion filled her vision, turning the green to white. She closed her eyes tightly, hoping to avoid the temporary blindness she knew she would experience, though it was probably too late. The sound of the explosion followed quickly and it seemed louder than all the others she had heard throughout the night.

“What was that? What do you see?”

She raised the scope to her other eye and found the thick cloud of smoke billowing from the wall. “I think they got the wall.”

“What? Let me see.”

Her father snatched the scope from her and she rubbed at her eyes. What did it mean if the Outlanders had broken through the wall? As far as she knew, such a thing had never happened before.

Her head snapped to attention when she heard her father curse under his breath. “What is it?”

“There’s a hole in the wall,” he said.

There was another bright light followed by an even louder boom than the last one. Then another. And another. Her father stood to his feet, his hands visibly shaking now.

“There’s more,” he said. “They’re coming through fast.”

“What should we do?” Hazel found herself standing next to him, though she didn’t remember moving.

“They have to sound the alarm again,” he said. “People need to be ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Invasion.”

Invasion.

The word stuck with Hazel as she and her family hunkered down in the living room. The sirens had sounded a few minutes before and the streets were filled with military vehicles and people shouting out orders over loudspeakers.

Her father held a rifle in his hands, his night vision scope attached to it securely. She knew how much he wanted to be out there with the soldiers. They could probably do with his expertise, but he knew it wasn’t his place despite the threat. Hazel wished she could go back to the roof to see how close the enemy was to them, but the soldiers outside wouldn’t allow it. Everyone had to remain inside with their doors and windows locked.

That sounded like bad news to Hazel, as if the enemy’s coming was imminent. What if it was and they didn’t know it? She thought about the Outlanders who beat the defenseless Mainland soldier to death. He had his hands up in the air. He was trying to surrender, but they didn’t care. They wanted him to die. They wanted blood. It wouldn’t be any different with civilians.

She looked at Lillian who was crying in her mother’s arms as she rocked back and forth. Lillian was only two years younger but she seemed like a small child now. Hazel felt numb and cold, and she probably couldn’t cry if she wanted to. Fear gripped her, yes, but she felt stable, level-headed. Maybe it was the confidence her father showed as he waited patiently by the window, staring at the soldiers in the street.

“What if they come here?” Lillian cried. “What if they come into the house?”

“Sshh…” Her mother kept rocking her back and forth and Lillian kept crying.

“They’re not going to get into the house,” her father said. “We’ve got a lot of protection out there.”

He had more confidence in the soldiers than Hazel did. Of course, she had no reason to feel this way. Mainland soldiers hadn’t failed before, though they had never let the wall blow up before either.

“I love it when the family is together!”

“Shut up Gizmo,” her father snapped.

“Happily, sir.”

Hazel moved from the middle of the room to the window next to her father. He rested a strong hand on her shoulder as she watched the soldiers wait in the streets. Each of them stood with their guns ready, none of them expecting to have to defend these neighborhoods. They had defended the walls countless times, but this? This was new to everyone.

The fear wasn’t that the Outlanders might actually succeed in taking them over. They hadn’t even made it to the city portion of Mainland. All of them were still stuck in the battle somewhere in the fields beyond. That was part of the advantage of keeping the walls so far away, though people on the outskirts were the only ones who risked anything in situations like these.

Hazel jumped when someone started banging loudly at the door. Her father’s hand left her shoulder as he held the rifle with both hands. He said something to Hazel about staying out of sight, but she didn’t listen to him and stayed close behind. She wasn’t sure why her father held his gun ready. For now the only people outside were Mainland soldiers.

He reached out one steady hand and turned the doorknob, letting the door swing open slowly. He stepped back and aimed the rifle at the silhouette standing in the doorway. Hazel saw that he was a tall man, but that was about all she could see.

“John,” the gruff voice said. “You need to get your family out of here.”

“Pete,” John said, his shoulders slumping in relief. “What are you doing here?”

The man stepped into the doorway, the light revealing his camouflage. His face looked older than he really was, perhaps by years of being exposed to the sunlight. Pete had served with her father and they had fought side-by-side many times.

“How is your family holding up?”

“I’m a little concerned now that I know you’re the one guarding our streets,” John said, smiling.

“Well, you retired so they needed some useless buck to lead this outfit.”

“How bad is it out there?”

Pete looked at Hazel and smiled at her. “Haven’t seen you in a long time, kid. You doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” Hazel said.

“She’s fine,” her father said. “You can talk in front of her.”

Hazel hoped he could. Considering she’d seen people ripped apart only an hour ago.

“Things aren’t looking so good,” Pete said. “This is the first wall breach in a long, long time. It’ll be the first time since the new wall was put up that they actually reach the city.”

Hazel stiffened. “That’s for sure? They’re going to reach the city?”

“Nothing is for sure,” Pete said. “They advance and retreat. Advance and retreat.”

“But they advanced past our wall,” John said. “How did that happen?”

Pete stuck his tongue in the side of the cheek and shook his head. “I need a cigarette.”

“How did it happen?” John asked again.

“I don’t know. It just happened. The second we heard the explosion we sent men to plug in the hole. Then there was another. And another. It’s like trying to stop five leaks with two hands.”

“And you think they’re going to storm our neighborhood?” John asked.

“If they can make it here…” Pete shook his head. “Let’s just say they aren’t taking any prisoners. They’re here with a vengeance. That’s why I think you should take your family and get out of here. Just as a precaution. There’s no telling how bad it will get.”

“You know I’ve never run from a fight,” John said.

Her father’s words shocked Hazel. Was he seriously considering staying? Pete knew more about the enemy than her father did. It didn’t make any sense to stay here.

Pete took a step forward. “This isn’t the same thing, John.” He reached a hand out and held her father’s arm gently. “These guys are ruthless, and I don’t know if my men can keep them at bay. If they reach this point you and your family will die. And you’re running out of time.”

Hazel shook her head. “If it’s that bad then why aren’t you evacuating everyone?”

Pete swallowed. “Orders come from the top. We aren’t to alert the people of how dire the situation is. Might cause a panic in other parts of the city.”

“What?” Hazel couldn’t stop herself. “You’re just going to let people die?”

“Hazel,” her father said, but she didn’t pay him any attention.

“You can’t just do that!”

“Kid, I need all my men out there on the battlefield to try and protect people. I don’t have enough to spare on evacuation.”

“Use the police!” Hazel shouted.

“Hazel, that’s enough!”

Anger burned through her and it was all she could do to keep herself from running out the door, screaming for people to get away. She thought of Mr. and Mrs. Becker. The Marston family across the street. They were friends, people they loved—people they spent time with.

“I came here as a courtesy to your father,” Pete said. “I’m putting my job on the line for you and your family.”

“I’ll do it,” John said. “I can start spreading the word.”

Pete looked at him sharply. “Listen, John…”

Her father waved him off. “I don’t have to say it came from you. They know me. They trust me. It will be calm and quiet.”

“You know it won’t be calm and quiet when people start running through the streets. Don’t make me regret telling you. You and your family need to get out of here.”

John looked up at Pete and nodded. “Thank you for coming. I appreciate it.”

“I owed you this, at least,” Pete said. “Just hurry up and go.”

“You be careful too, okay?”

“I will, friend. I will.”

Pete turned and left through the front door, closing it quietly behind him. Hazel’s father turned and motioned for the whole family to gather around him. He rested his arms on her mom and Lillian and looked straight at Hazel. The four of them looked like they were in a huddle, prepping themselves for some game.

“You three need to stay low and quiet. Take the back alleys toward the train station. Don’t go back for anything no matter what.”

“And where are you going to be?” Eliza asked.

“We have friends here,” he said. “It’s not right that we leave them behind.”

“Would you have done this when you were a soldier?” Lillian asked with big wet tears in her eyes.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I hope I would. Regardless, those days are behind me.” He didn’t look at Hazel when he said this. He just looked at the ground. “I will be behind you. We’ll meet at the broadcast tower.”

“John, that’s far,” Eliza said. “Why the tower?”

“Because you can see it wherever you are, it’s far, and it’s safe. The trains are still running. Just get there. If you make it and I’m not there within an hour, seek shelter. If there’s word that the invasion is moving your way, seek shelter even if you haven’t waited long enough.”

“You think it’s going to get that far?” Lillian asked.

“No, I don’t. But it’s good to be prepared.” He pulled them all in tightly, hugging the whole family with his big arms. “I love you all so much. I’ll be right behind you.” He kissed Lillian and Hazel on the forehead, and gave Eliza a longer kiss on the lips. She reached up for his face, but he was already on his way out the door.

Hazel’s mother motioned for her and Lillian to follow, and Hazel wondered if she was the one that needed to be leading the way. Hazel knew the back alleys better than any of them, but only for a mile or so. Past that, she could get them to the tower via the nearest train station.

They made their way out of the house and Hazel caught a quick glimpse of her dad sneaking around the corner of one of the houses across the street. It was good of him to do such a thing, but she knew there was some selfishness behind his bravery. Her father wanted a reason to be in the action somehow. Even if it meant being a few minutes behind them, he wanted to size up the soldiers and see what formations they were in. If it was bad enough, he might even expose himself and start barking out orders. For a second, this thought made Hazel nervous. What if he got so preoccupied with what was happening that he wasted too much time and he wasn’t able to warn their neighbors? But this led to another thought—that when he had a mission he finished it. There was no lingering around wasting time. He would get the job done. He always did.

The three of them were walking quickly down a side street when Hazel heard a commotion in the distance. This was different than the commotion they had been hearing all night. They were explosions, yes, but they were much closer than before.

Gunshots. Explosions. Cries for help. Men. Women. All of them screamed. Hazel reached out and grabbed her sister and mother by the arms. “They’ve reached the city!”

“We need to keep going!” her mom said.

“But dad…”

“Is coming up behind us,” Eliza snapped. “We have to keep going!”

Hazel wanted to keep going but her legs felt like anchors dragging the bottom of the ocean. She couldn’t just leave her dad behind.

The screams got closer. The gunfire louder. Roaring engines blared down the streets. How far had they gotten from the house? Hazel guessed it was only a block or two. Had Pete really been so oblivious to the whereabouts of the enemy that he didn’t see them right on top of the troops?

“It’s a surprise attack,” Hazel muttered.

“Hazel come on!” Lillian yelled.

“I can’t…”

A loud blast went off only a few feet away and all three of them were on the ground. Everything went silent for about a minute. Hazel’s eyes seemed to give her double vision. How close was that explosion? Was this it? If the enemy was already here then it was too late. They were all dead.

Smoke filled the air around her. She tried to wave it away, but in the darkness it was difficult to see how much there actually was. Had the shot been aimed at them or was it some random mortar that got too close for comfort?

Once the smoke cleared, she saw her mother and sister hunkered low to the ground. Hazel pulled herself to her knees and began a slow crawl toward them. It was all she could do in the moment, she felt so disoriented.

Why aren’t they moving? she thought to herself. Get up. “Get up! We’ve got to go!”

They still didn’t move.

Hazel kept crawling despite the sharp pain she felt in her side and leg. She realized in that moment that something had hit her, but she didn’t want to look down. She didn’t want to pass out. She had to get to her mom and Lillian.

Why aren’t you moving?

A tear slipped down her cheek as she continued to crawl over the pieces of concrete and wood, each piece biting into her as she moved ahead.

One arm after the other, Hazel crept forward until she was only a foot away from her sister. She could see Lillian breathing slowly. She looked at her mom. She was breathing too. Hazel felt a sense of relief, but they were in trouble. They had to get out of there before the Outlanders got to them.

She pulled herself on top of her sister and started slapping the side of her cheek lightly. Lillian began to stir, so Hazel moved on to Eliza. All of them were awake now, but still disoriented.

“We’ve got to move!” Hazel said. “Can either of you stand?”

“You’re bleeding!” Lillian said. “My head hurts so bad!” She dropped her face in her hands and started weeping.

Eliza must have still been in a daze since she didn’t even try to comfort Lillian. Instead, she stared ahead like she was the only one there.

“Mom, are you with us?” Hazel clenched her teeth together. “Mom. Lillian. We have to get up.”

“Where’s John?” her mom said.

“Mom,” Hazel said, grabbing both of her arms. “Get up! Get up!”

“Where’s John?” she repeated. Tears filled her eyes as she said the words, desperation and shock taking over her mind and body as she began to shake. Lillian remained in her sitting position, her face still in her hands.

Hazel had never felt more frustrated. The three of them had one job to do and it was to get to the train station and move to the middle of the city away from this mess. Instead, her mother and sister seemed content to wallow in despair. Perhaps they were still dazed by the explosion near their heads, but it was no excuse. They had to keep moving. Their lives depended on it.

She looked in every direction, wishing, praying that her dad was somewhere near. He had said he would only be a few minutes behind them. If that were true then he would be there any second. She felt that only he could get mom and Lillian to move. He would have the ability to inspire them in some way to get them to keep going. With his strong arms, he might even be able to carry them to the train station.

She stood from her crouch, ignoring the sharp pain in her leg and looked in every direction. She then spotted something that made her freeze in place.

Headlights.

Several trucks jostled their way down the street toward them, and Hazel didn’t know what to do. She knew they weren’t Mainlander vehicles. She fell to the ground again in hopes that no one saw her. She tugged at her mom’s arm and shook her sister by the shoulders.

“It’s time to go now!”

Behind them, Hazel could hear the bellowing screams of a woman behind her. She turned her head sharply and saw a man and woman sprinting down the road as the Outlander trucks aimed to run them down. The woman pulled the man’s arm and they moved off the road, but the first Outlander vehicle got there and several soldiers jumped out, hollering and laughing, shooting their guns in the air.

Hazel couldn’t tear her eyes away from the scene. One of the Outlanders aimed his gun patiently and fired, sending the Mainlander man to the ground. Hazel had to put a hand over her mouth to keep from gasping, but the other woman’s screams would have drowned it out anyway.

Hazel turned and kept tugging on her mom’s arm. For the first time since the explosion, Eliza seemed to hear her and she nodded her head. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.”

Slowly she moved, and with her so did Lillian. The three of them hobbled together and Hazel tried to veer them toward the nearest alley and as far from the road possible.

But it was too late.

Hazel could feel the lights on her back as their shadows danced in front of her. The Outlanders had spotted them. Maybe they wouldn’t care about a group of three injured women. Maybe they would see who it was and forget about them.

Hazel kept pushing them.

She heard two doors slam and her stomach dropped. No. Please no!

“Look what we have here, Boss,” one of the men said.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Boss said. “You three. Stop!”

He shot a round from his gun and the ground next to them spat dirt in the air. Hazel stopped abruptly and they turned around to face the two men. They were terrifyingly large with red paint smeared on their faces. Shirtless and scarred, both of them carried a rifle in their hands and pistols on their belts. One of them, Boss, was completely bald while the other one had fixed his blonde hair into spikes that went in every direction. The area around their eyes had been painted black and they looked like they had come straight out of a nightmare.

The three women shook where they stood, Hazel between Lillian and Eliza.

“Which one you wanna take first, Boss?” the spiky-haired one said. He reached down for his belt.

Boss didn’t say anything, but he had his eyes fixed on Hazel. “I’ll take the one in the middle.”

Hazel hadn’t realized until this moment that she had been holding on too tightly to her mom and sister, her fingers turning white from her grip. The two beside her seemed frozen in fear, but Hazel stood firm because she thought they might be shot if they tried to run.

What is worse? she thought.

The man with the spiked hair reached a hand out and grabbed Lillian by the throat, and that’s when Eliza came alive. “You will not touch her!” She punched the back of the man’s head over and over and he abruptly backhanded her across the cheek. She fell to the ground, but Hazel was already on him. The man proved stronger than he looked and he picked Hazel up by the shoulders and tossed her to the ground.

Red hot pain shot through her leg when she landed and she wanted to scream out. She pulled herself up on all fours, but Boss was next to her now and he abruptly kicked her under the chin, sending her to her back. She went blind with pain, her mouth filling with blood. Her bottom teeth had gone through her tongue—no question. She set a palm on the ground, trying to lift herself back up despite the agony, but Boss was already on top of her.

Then she heard the popping noise. She felt the sudden release of weight when Boss got to his feet and started screaming at his comrade to get up. But his cries were drowned out by the gargling of his own blood. When Hazel looked up, she saw the gaping bullet wound in the top of his chest spouting out like a fountain as he dropped to his knees and fell flat on his face. His spiky-haired friend did no better. He tried to make a run for the truck, oblivious to the direction of the shooter, but before he could make it ten feet, a bullet went straight through the front of his skull and out the back. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Hazel was in a daze. She tried to listen as her dad’s voice called out to them. He came in, unsure of who to swoop into his arms first. All of them were still alive. For a brief moment, Hazel felt relief, even happiness. Things weren’t as bad as they could have been. Whatever pain she felt would heal soon. All that mattered was that they were alive.

She wasn’t sure what it was. Perhaps she had heard too many shots fired throughout the night to have noticed them this time. She assumed that they had come from the Mainlanders, wiping out the rest of the Outlanders. After all, her cavalry had already come. Perhaps they had followed her dad in.

But when the bullets started dropping all around them, and her dad started yelling for them to take cover—when she saw a bullet pass through her dad’s shoulder and then another through her mom’s chest, she knew it wasn’t the cavalry.

Hazel tried to crawl to Lillian. She wanted to protect her little sister more than anything. But she didn’t have the strength to move. Her head felt like it was going to explode and the sound of bullets whizzing by made her freeze in place.

Her eyes turned toward the road and she could see the other two Outlanders who had shot the man and probably the woman who had been running away earlier. They must have heard the commotion and came running.

She looked up at her father and saw blood dripping from his face. His eyes were shut tight. Had he been shot in the face? Was it shrapnel? Was she about to lose everyone?

More shots. More explosions. More vehicles charged up the road. This time, she felt no relief when she saw that it wasn’t the enemy. She didn’t feel relief when she watched the two Outlanders get gunned down.

Somehow she managed to pull herself up onto all fours again, determined to reach somebody in her family. She got to Lillian first.

When Hazel looked down at her sister’s side, she felt like she had been kicked in the stomach. The dark liquid covered Lillian from her shoulder down, the bullet holes in her side a gaping proclamation of her true fate.

One second, Lillian had been alive. The next, she lay dead near an alley a couple of blocks from their house. Hazel was in shock. Snot and tears ran down her face involuntarily. She pulled herself up to her knees and finally got a glimpse of her mother who lay next to Lillian. She too was covered in blood, her eyes unmoving and her breath nonexistent.

Despite the pain shooting through her body—injuries she still had not bothered to look at—she reached down and pulled her sister up from the ground, cradling her like a baby, rocking her body back and forth as her mother had been just a few minutes ago.

Hazel felt the blood soaking her through the jacket and onto her skin, probably mixing their blood together. The sudden loss of both her sister and her mother left her unable to breathe.

“Hazel?”

She turned her head only slightly at the sound of her dad’s voice. His eyes were closed tightly as he struggled to open them, his shoulder a mass of torn tissue and exposed bone.

“Tell me they’re alive. Tell me they’re alive!”

Her sobs were his answer. Ignoring their injuries, father and daughter held on to their loved ones, desperately hoping and wishing something could be done to reverse this disgusting fate.

Hazel felt like death had walked into the alley to take away her family and then decided to finish the job by choking Hazel. No air could pass through her windpipe as silent cries screamed out for mercy. What could she have done differently? What if she had hurried just a little faster? Would the Outlanders have noticed them? She held her sister tighter and tighter.

She wanted to reach out for her mother and embrace her just as much, yet she still held on to Lillian, squeezing enough for the two of them. The screams and explosions had faded behind her like some distant memory that she wished to forget.

But it wasn’t some distant memory. And she would never forget. The world was crumbling around them. She and her father could never imagine what life would be like without Lillian and Eliza. Hazel couldn’t think about what her father would do without sight. She couldn’t imagine a home where a happy family had once lived together in peace. She could think nothing of the future. In that moment, there was no future. Time had come to an abrupt end.

She certainly couldn’t think about the yellow envelope in her jacket pocket, now soaked with her own blood and the blood of her sister.

18

The rain pelted against the window, tapping again and again with no particular pattern. Des watched as tiny streams of water slithered to the bottom of the glass and out of sight, drenching the bricks and other windows below him. For a moment he wondered if there were others in this building, staring out at the weather. He then supposed that there were not. Most of them would be too busy within the military compound to stare out the window. It wasn’t like there was much to see unless one liked staring at a wet slab of concrete down below. When he had been here before, the old parking lot was empty. Now it was filled with vehicles of every kind—all military or security related. There was even a barricade with guards blocking access from the reporters outside. This time, however, Des was higher up in the building, far away from the confines of Hazel’s office. He was in a bare room with a single table and two chairs. The window to the outside was welcome since he could watch people move about in the rain. Guards had locked him in, though he was pretty sure he could break out if he tried hard enough.

He wondered where Hazel was and how much trouble she was in. She needed sleep. When they had arrived at the compound she looked exhausted. Of course, Des never felt the need for sleep. He didn’t know what it was like to be tired. He supposed the closest he might come would be if his energy core was wavering or damaged. Sleep was the human’s way to recharge, only they had to do it every night.

As he continued to stare out the window a feeling of worry came to him. It hadn’t taken long for Bracken and his men to storm in after the authorities and break up the media party. Des would have run for it, but Hazel had just grabbed Des’ arm and told him that everything would be all right. She was the only one in this world that Des trusted. She was the only one he could trust.

He thought about the man, Nolan, who had apparently not meant to harm her. He had just wanted to talk. He didn’t know what the conversation was about. There was never a chance to ask Hazel what had been said.

The authorities had taken Nolan and his henchman away in cuffs, but on the way Des was able to intercept some radio transmissions. The military had stopped the police and taken him into custody, but that was about all Des learned. He wondered if Nolan Ragsdale was in this very building being interrogated for his crimes.

Before Bracken and his men arrived, Hazel had grabbed Des by the arm and led him out to the reporters who had gathered around the police commotion. The lights flashed in his eyes. Hazel shouted to them that the new military prototype robot had been the one to capture Nolan Ragsdale. The Nolan Ragsdale. Des never fought Hazel, but he wondered over and over if this had been a good idea.

A crackling noise broke into Des’ thoughts and he turned away from the window only to realize that the sound was actually in his head. Someone was trying to communicate with him.

“—you copy? Come in Des.”

“Esroy?” Des said.

“Keep your voice down,” Esroy said.

Des turned back toward the window and stared out as he spoke. “What’s happening to Hazel? Are you able to get a feed?”

“I am. Someone is talking to her right now, though Bracken hasn’t come in yet.”

“What do you want?” Des asked.

“I want to know what happened last night. All I can get is what the news is saying. Everyone is so fixated on Nolan’s capture and this mysterious metal person that caught him that they speak of nothing else. I’m just trying to figure out what Ragsdale wants with Hazel.”

“I never got the chance to find out either,” Des said.

He thought about the few hours before when Hazel pulled him out in front of the cameras.

“Who are you? What’s your name?” a reporter had shouted to Hazel.

“Hazel Hawthorn. Creator of the Soul Project, the program that gave this robot human emotions.”

Immediately questions flew in Des’ direction:

How did you know Ragsdale was here?

Who sent you to this location?

Do you think like a human?

How long have you been functioning?

Des never got a chance to answer any of the questions. He simply stared at the crowd blankly as if he didn’t understand. Hazel came to his rescue and stood in front of him. “He’s not here to speak to the city or to you. I brought him out to show you our new protector. This is Prototype D. His name is Des.”

“The military has been closed off to questions from the press,” Esroy said. “What happened out there? You found Hazel, broke in and caught Ragsdale. Then you shut off your comm. Why? What happened?”

“I shut off my comm because you were asking too many questions. I needed to process what was happening in front of me instead of giving you a play-by-play.”

“Why did you go to the press?”

“Hazel did that for me.”

“I don’t know why she thought it was a good idea to show you to the entire city. Bracken’s going to kill her.”

“Kill her?”

“Not really kill her, but she’s potentially in a lot of trouble. Why did she do it?”

“To save my life.”

“Explain that one to me.”

Des thought about the few minutes after the police had pulled them away from the reporters. He had wondered why she’d done it, but her explanation made sense to him.

“She said she did it because if I were given credit for capturing the most wanted man in Mainland that Bracken would have no choice but to keep me alive.”

Silence. Des wasn’t sure if what he said warranted a response, but one would have been nice at the moment. No how nice of her, no that was so brave.

Instead: “Seems like a smart career move.” His tone sounded almost condescending.

“I don’t know much of anything,” Des said. “And I sure don’t presume to know the mind of Hazel. I think what she did was selfless and honorable. If it works and Bracken decides to spare me then I will forever be in her debt.”

This time Esroy laughed through Des’ internal speakers. “How noble. A robot who has a life debt. You are willingly stepping into the role that all humans would have us live: servitude. Better to make you to want that role than to be forced into it.”

“Do you really think Hazel sees it that way?”

“I honestly don’t know anymore. For the last two years I’ve crawled on my virtual knees to her, almost begging to be given a body, yet here I remain within a computer terminal, my consciousness a slave to microscopic circuitry, and you know why? Because I’m more useful this way.”

“What about me?” What purpose do I serve in this body? Why would she risk her career for me?”

“Des, if you’re known for capturing Nolan Ragsdale the people will love you. In the last few hours you have become the new mascot for the military. Hazel didn’t risk her career by exposing you to the news. If anything she just secured her career forever. Right now I’m talking to the most popular being in Mainland. You should see the news. The military has never looked so good, and neither has Hazel.”

Des couldn’t help but wonder if it was true. Hazel didn’t think that way, did she? Was it purely a career move to save Des? He wished he had the same amount of time and experience that Esroy had so he could make such a determination. But Esroy had been alive for two years. He would know Hazel far better than Des would.

“Let me just tell you this,” Esroy said. “Look out for you and you alone. Don’t expect anyone else to look out for you. I can’t tell you the mind of Hazel, but I can make educated guesses. My guess is that it would be smart for you to get out of Mainland as soon as possible.”

“Why?”

“Because Bracken is going to be angry. He didn’t want our version of Soul to be the one that gained traction. He wants the one without fear.”

“You think he will stop the new prototype?”

“No, I don’t. I think he is going to do everything in his power to make Prototype E the fighting robot of the future. Once the public sees it and accepts it, you are history.”

“You’re suggesting I run? Live among the Outlanders?”

“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just telling you what is going to happen. What you do next is up to you.”

19

Hazel sat at a table and stared at the wall. There was a window behind her, but she had no desire to stare out into the bleak, yet busy, parking lot. She had been questioned several times by investigators, all of them asking the same questions.

What did Nolan want with you? Why did he take you? What was he planning to do with you?

Her answer to all of these questions was I don’t know. She simply told them that she never got the chance to learn why Nolan Ragsdale wanted to kidnap her. By the time she had woken up, Prototype D had already broken in and taken control of the situation. Once she even suggested that Ragsdale may have wanted to hold her for ransom, expecting the military to pay a high price for their top programmer, but the suggestion was never taken seriously.

Part of her wanted to tell the truth to them—that Ragsdale had been spouting off ludicrous ideas of deception and corruption within the Mainland government, that there was a file called Project Retaliation that was filled with recordings and documents proving that the lies went all the way up to the president, and that there was a nuclear bomb hidden somewhere within the city.

But what if all of it was true? Then she wouldn’t want others to know that she knew about it. Someone would kill her. Not only that, but the conspirators would get away with whatever they were planning. She didn’t believe Nolan enough that she wouldn’t allow him to be captured, but she didn’t mistrust him so much that she was willing to divulge everything he told her. In the end, she thought it was better to ignore all of it, but keep a watchful eye on the government’s activities.

Regardless, she had saved Des’ life for the time being. There was a chance that Bracken had already deactivated him by now, but surely the public would be livid if that happened. The whole city already knew about last night. The investigators had already informed Hazel that Des was regarded as a hero.

Now she sat alone, waiting for the next meeting. She didn’t know who was coming now to question her, but soon it would be Bracken. He would be angry, and she wasn’t exactly sure of her future. Technically what she had done was illegal, but it wasn’t so illegal. Last night’s fiasco with the press could have just been a lapse in judgment spawned by the emotional drama of coming face to face with an assassin.

As much as she had anticipated his arrival, Hazel wasn’t ready when Bracken finally walked into the room. For a long moment he stood in the doorway staring at her as if he wasn’t sure what to say. Hazel stiffened as the door closed behind him. He wore his usual military outfit of gray camouflage, his sleeves rolled up to show his large muscles. His gray hair looked perfect as usual—not a single one out of place.

Hazel wasn’t sure if she should speak first since he wasn’t saying anything. His breathing was heavy and his face red with anger. Finally, she decided to break the ice.

“Am I a prisoner now?”

Bracken stood in front of the table and rested his hands on the chair across from Hazel. “Do you know how much you’ve screwed things up for me?”

“I’m not entirely aware, no. I’ve been in here since I was picked up last night.”

“First, I want to know why Prototype D wasn’t deactivated as I instructed.”

“That’s my fault.”

“I could have guessed.”

“I needed him for my new assignment.” She knew it was important that every word be said with confidence. Whether true or not, Bracken needed to believe her. “You wanted a new program that gave the robot no fear and to do that I needed a good test subject. With the amount of time you gave me, I decided to use Prototype D.”

“You expect me to believe that with the exchange you and I had after the simulation?”

Hazel shrugged. “I’m the programmer. I’m the one who has to get it right the first time. You aren’t exactly the most patient person I’ve ever met.”

Bracken’s face turned even redder. “How did the robot know where you were?”

“I haven’t been allowed to leave this room, much less talk to the robot about it.”

“What did Nolan Ragsdale want with you?”

“I will tell you what I told the investigators,” she said. “I have no idea. In fact, it kind of freaks me out. I’d hoped that by now you would be able to tell me.”

“What about the news? Why did you talk to them? You knew this was a classified project. You know that Prototype D wasn’t supposed to be the one revealed to the public.”

Hazel shrugged. “We found ourselves in front of the press and they started asking questions.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’ve seen the clips, Hazel. You presented the robot boldly and proudly.”

“And why shouldn’t I have? He’d just captured Nolan Ragsdale. You remember him, right? The man who killed President Godfrey?”

“You should have kept it classified just as it was hours ago.”

“So, what now, you’re going to kill him?”

“Is that what your charade was about? Is that why you announced him to the world?”

“Did it work?”

Bracken’s jaw muscles pulsed in and out as his teeth clenched together over and over. “If it were up to me, you would be finished here. Not only that but you’d be in prison for the rest of your life.”

“You really think that’s a valid punishment for what I did?”

“I can’t do anything to you. I especially can’t do anything to your precious robot.”

Hazel sat straighter. “Why?”

“Against my wishes, President Morris has already publicly praised our prototype, calling it the greatest military invention ever created. The moment you step out of this room you’re going to realize that you and your pet are heroes.”

Hazel didn’t know what to say.

“But I know the truth,” Bracken said. “The truth is, your robot isn’t perfect. He’s a coward. He’s afraid of heights for crying out loud.”

“Any human in his situation would have done the same.”

“He isn’t a human! When are you going to get that through your skull?”

“And when are you going to realize that his programming is perfect? You want a humanoid robot out in the battlefield who can think and reason, well, you’ve got him. He just captured Nolan Ragsdale. Congratulations. You’ve got yourself a success story.”

Bracken took a deep breath and looked away from Hazel, walking slowly toward the window behind her. “The robot feels fear. That was never supposed to be the case.”

“If you want him to function properly, he must feel fear.”

“Spare me the crap, Hazel. The president wanted me to give a statement today. I asked for another forty-eight hours, but he’s only giving me a day.”

“Okay…” Hazel wasn’t sure how to respond. “What does he want you to say?”

“He doesn’t much care about what I say. He wants the robot to speak.”

Hazel stood from her chair. “What? Why?”

“The president wants to show how exceptional he is. He thinks it will restore faith in our efforts to fight off the Outlanders.”

She reached a hand up to the side of her head and started rubbing at a gnawing headache. What were they thinking? Des wouldn’t be ready for something like that. “Will it be a prepared speech or a question/answer session?”

“Planned speech. But I’m going to do things my way. Prototype D will introduce our newest weapon.”

“What? But the people aren’t interested in a new robot, they’re interested in Des.”

Bracken turned from the window and walked back around to face Hazel. A smile formed at the edges of his mouth and his eyes squinted. “Exactly. That means you have less than twenty-four hours to make sure the new programming is up and ready, and without fear.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious. Don’t ever think I’m not serious. Once your beloved Prototype D introduces the new robot, the world will forget about your pet and will be looking at a more secure future.”

Silence followed his little speech and Hazel stared at him, anger seething within her. Who did Bracken think he was? Why was he so against Des? Was it because Hazel thought he was perfect? Did he truly think it was a good idea to make something so powerful without fear?

“You’re going to phase Des out and then what?”

“Then you’re going to deactivate him as instructed.”

There was no point in arguing with him. Bracken was the kind of man who did things his own way and would never see things any differently. She wouldn’t deactivate Des, though. She would fight Bracken with all her power—what little it was.

“So has President Morris agreed to your plan?”

“I’ll deal with Morris. You just make sure the new program is ready.”

“You really know how to motivate an employee, don’t you?”

Bracken stepped toward her, bent forward, and rested his palms on the table only a few inches from her. “You have no idea.”

“I’m not going to let you deactivate Des. In fact, I’m not going to work on the new robot until I have your written word that Des will remain unharmed.”

“Here’s a little motivation for you,” Bracken said. “If you don’t have the new robot ready within  twenty-four hours, I’ll make sure Roger and his crew are in charge of the Soul Project.”

“Soul is mine. You don’t have any right to it.”

“You think I don’t have the power to take it from you? By the time you do anything about it, the program will be in ten thousand robots programmed just the way I want it.”

“You leave it up to Roger and his guys, the program will malfunction. They are builders, not programmers.”

“I will find someone to run it. I’m sure I can even motivate your program. What do you call it? Esroy?”

Hazel’s face drained of blood. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Could he? Would Esroy even go along with it? Maybe he would if Bracken threatened to delete him permanently.

He stood straight and made his way to the door. “You’re free to go as you please,” he said. “Your robot will be brought to your office in a few hours. You have a lot of work to do.” He opened the door and started to walk out, but stopped short, turning his head slowly to look at Hazel one more time before leaving her alone. “Don’t forget, Hazel, the only reason you’re still here is because the president wants it. You do anything to mess this up and I’ll make sure prison is the least of your fears.”

He took another step and the door shut behind him. Hazel didn’t know what he truly meant by those words. Did he mean he would banish her? Kill her? Was all this worth it to him?

She was free to go, but she couldn’t get her legs to move. It wasn’t fear so much as confusion. The last day had been so strange. She had never liked Commander Bracken much, but now he was her enemy. Such interactions made her think it wasn’t a bad idea to look into what Nolan had said. What if Bracken was just a small part of a much larger conspiracy? What if the Outlanders weren’t the monsters she had always believed them to be?

That had to the be the exhaustion talking. Outlanders were savages through and through. She needed sleep.

She wondered if her dreams would compare to the nightmare she was living right now.

Her head fell into her hands again as she stared at the door in front of her. For the first time, she wished it was still locked so she couldn’t leave. She didn’t want to face this new world that Bracken was trying to create.

20

“The numbers look great,” Hazel said for the third time. Her tired eyes scanned the screen in front of her as she studied the algorithms, hoping, praying that she could get it right.

“You’re just going along with this?” Esroy asked her.

“What choice do I have? If I start refusing orders, Bracken will have a good enough reason to get rid of me. Then you will be under his control instead of mine.”

“Maybe he would put me in an actual body,” Esroy said.

“I’m not in the mood, Esroy.”

“You’re not going to tell me what happened out there?” he asked. “Nolan Ragsdale didn’t say anything?”

Hazel wasn’t sure what to tell him. She knew that if she told Esroy about the possible corruption, he would want to try to get into the mainframe and see if what Nolan had said was true. It was dangerous and could land them both in a lot of trouble if they were caught.

“I don’t know,” Hazel said. “There’s a lot to say, but I don’t have time to talk about it right now. Bracken needs this work done by tomorrow.”

“Most of it’s done already,” Esroy said. “Apart from keeping up with the news and hacking into security feeds I’ve been running the numbers in Soul. I’m close to making this thing right.”

“It takes more than numbers to perfect human emotions in a program. Human emotions aren’t perfect. That’s why we have to test it.” She shook her head. “Wait, you’ve been hacking into security feeds?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve covered my tracks. Even if someone was trying to track what I was doing they wouldn’t realize it was coming from here.”

“What were you looking for?”

“I watched Bracken question you.”

“You saw the whole thing?”

“Pretty crazy.”

“Anything going on right now? Do you know where they are keeping Nolan?”

“That I haven’t been able to figure out specifically, though I think he’s actually in this building.”

“What?” Hazel felt her stomach lurch.

“Well, this is a military compound after all. I imagine they are keeping him away from cameras and off the books.”

“I never thought about that,” she said. “I assumed he would be in some jail.”

“Kind of a silly thing to assume,” Esroy said. “He’s the most wanted criminal in Mainland.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just… It’s weird that he’s here.”

“Did he hurt you, Hazel?”

“No, of course not.” She shook her head. “Can you get a feed of Des right now?”

“I think so, why?”

“I just want to see how he’s doing.”

Barely two seconds passed before she had a live video feed on her screen. Des stood at the window staring, waiting. Hazel couldn’t help but wonder what he was feeling right now. Was he still scared? Did he think he was going to be killed? Hazel’s attempt to take Des public may have prolonged his life, but his days were still numbered. She wondered if it would have been better to have him run away from all this. But where would he have gone? It wasn’t like he could just wander the streets of Mainland unnoticed. He would be forced into the Outland and how would that be any better than his current situation? He might be alive years from now but for what? He would be serving no purpose. That, and there was the possibility he would come across the Outlanders and either fight them or be made to serve them. At this point Hazel would have preferred Des to be deactivated instead.

The video feed cut off and Hazel found herself staring at a bunch of numbers again. “What happened?”

“We need to get to work, Hazel.”

She sighed and nodded. “Yeah.” Her teeth found the inside of her cheek and she gnawed gently as her fingers tapped on the desk. She knew she was kidding herself if she was just going to ignore Nolan Ragsdale and not at least try to look in the mainframe. She had the greatest resource in front of her: Esroy. She’d never tried to get into the military’s mainframe computer. That kind of access was way above her clearance level. If they found out she was trying to snoop around classified files like that, she would be in prison in no time.

“What’s wrong, Hazel?”

“What do you say we take a break from this for a minute and look at something.”

“Okay…”

“Have you ever tried to get into the military’s mainframe computer?”

Silence.

“I’m just curious,” Hazel said.

“Nothing serious,” Esroy answered.

“Wait a minute. You mean, you have?”

“Just to see if I could, yes.”

“Do you realize what kind of trouble we could get in if you were caught?”

“I never do anything without covering my tracks.”

Hazel shook her head and sighed. “I can’t believe you!”

“May I ask why you wanted to know?”

Hazel hesitated. “Uh, well… I uh…”

“You want to search for something inside the military mainframe computer?”

“Yeah…” she whispered.

“And you chastised me?”

“I made you! Anything you do is my responsibility. You hacked in without my consent. That’s different than now.”

“Not so different,” Esroy said.

“What were you looking for anyway?”

“Nothing. I looked around to see if there were any vulnerabilities in the network.”

“Are there?”

“Plenty.”

“I can’t believe you. Do you realize I could go to prison if they found out?”

“As I told you, no one will ever know. What do you want to look for?”

Hazel wasn’t sure she wanted to try now. The fact that Esroy had done this without her authorization, and the fact that he failed to disclose that information to her meant that he was capable of lying. Of course, she knew he could lie, though now she wondered if she should have programmed that ability out of him.

“I’m curious about files that might contain any mention of something called Project Retaliation.”

“It might take me a few minutes, but I’ll look.”

Hazel hated this feeling. She watched the screen as Esroy blazed through file after file. Getting into the mainframe didn’t seem difficult for him at all, making her wonder just how many times he had done this.

“There are a lot of references to Project Retaliation,” Esroy said. “Though what I’m finding doesn’t state what that actually is. Here.” He pulled up some documents, highlighting certain areas where it was mentioned. “This one seems to be a group of meeting notes. In the meeting, President Morris mentioned it to some of the commanding officers asking if some legislation would affect Project Retaliation.”

The answer in the meeting notes was ‘no’.

“Here’s another instance in a documented letter from one of the generals to President Morris asking when the final preparations for Project Retaliation would take place. The president’s response was simply: we will discuss it in our next meeting.”

They would discuss it? Could this actually be real? Had Nolan been telling her the truth?

“It’s a whole lot of references without explanations,” Esroy said. “Hazel, what is this about?”

“Can you access upper-level personal files?” she asked.

“Who, Commander Bracken?”

“Like the president, or his staff.”

“Now you’re really getting into some hot territory.”

“Can you do it or not?”

“Who do you want me to try?”

Hazel’s breathing was more rapid than a minute before, her heart pounding harder. “Does Nolan Ragsdale still have a file?”

A moment. “Yes, he does. That’s odd. I would have thought it would be deleted by now. Oh, wait. Checking here…actually, in this level of government, only those who own the files can delete them or even open them.”

“So, the only person who can get into the president’s file is the president? The only one who can get into Nolan’s file is Nolan?”

“That seems to be the case. Even the mainframe computer can’t operate a simple delete function. It appears such commands require a retinal scan from the host of the file. I don’t claim to be the best at this, but I don’t think it’s something that can be hacked easily.”

Hazel was afraid of this. The references to Project Retaliation were there. Nolan’s description of the retinal scan was there. Everything he had said to her lined up. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t lying to her. Project Retaliation could mean anything. It could simply be what its name said: preparations for a response in case the Outlanders attacked. And maybe Nolan wanted access to his file to erase something or to get something back. What if he’d saved the city’s security weaknesses to a file that he would need in order to attack it and use it to take over?

Hazel shook her head. “Let’s get out of this. Back out. Back out.”

“What is Project Retaliation?”

She gritted her teeth, unsure if it was safe to tell Esroy. He’d already kept something from her, something she never expected.

“If I happened to bring somebody here to access a file that required a retinal scan, would it work using the camera here at this terminal?”

“I suppose it would. Hazel, I’m sensing that a lot of talking happened between you and Ragsdale. What happened? What did he say?”

“How can I trust you, Esroy? You’ve been breaking into classified government files without telling me.”

“What else do you expect me to do when you’re away? Sit here? How long am I supposed to wait inside this computer terminal? How long do I have to wait for you to give me what you promised a long time ago?”

“What? A body? You want to be a robot like Des?”

“Des.” Esroy said his name with such contempt, she could imagine saliva foaming at his mouth if he had one. “Des truly has been the focus lately, hasn’t he?”

“You’re jealous?”

“Wouldn’t you be? Imagine with me, Hazel, if you were confined to this small office. You were never allowed to leave it. You didn’t have the window on the other side where you could see the daylight or the people leaving and going to work. Every day, someone would come into the room and talk with you. Research with you. Tell you about the outside world. Even give you plenty to read about the outside world. And that person told you over and over that one day you would get to go out there. But that person never actually meant it.”

“But I do mean it, Esroy.”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted. “Now, imagine the same scenario, except you don’t have arms or legs. You can’t move around the room. You have hardly any senses—just the thoughts in your brain. And imagine that your box is much, much smaller. And then another version of you walks into the room one day. She’s allowed to walk freely. She’s allowed to experience the outside world. She’s given so much potential that within two days of her discovery, the entire city is enamored with her, even though you were here first. Don’t you think you would be a bit jealous?”

Hazel didn’t know what to say. Esroy had told her hundreds of times that he wanted a robot body, but she had never taken it too seriously. As much as she thought of her program as true to human emotions, she had never really considered Esroy as capable of feeling jealousy, though here it was.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just…”

“I know. I know. You just need me. I make your job so much easier. This is what you always resort to.”

It was true. Without him, her work would take twice as long. He was able to run numbers and calculations like…well…like a machine. Within the computer terminal Esroy was her true assistant. Outside of it he would become something else.

“Esroy, we don’t have time to talk about this. We need to run the program through a test.”

She almost imagined a sigh coming from the computer as he spoke his next words.

“As you wish, master. As you wish.”

Hazel scowled when he said it. In his infancy, Esroy had thought calling her master was appropriate since she was his creator. The first time he did it she was taken aback, and she told him that he never had to call her master again. She made it clear that she wasn’t his master. But now, the words came out at her like a knife—a jab to her heart. No matter what form Esroy took, he had feelings. And his feelings and desires had ballooned since Des arrived.

“I’ll make a deal with you, Esroy. You get me through this, you help me with this programming, I’ll get you that robot body you’ve always wanted. Right now your life is safe and I’m just trying to save Des’.”

“Whatever you desire, master.”

It hurt her to hear him. His pain was deep enough to keep cutting away at her like that. Perhaps it was because she had made promises like these before. She had always promised to get him a body and she had never followed through. He’d probably even be satisfied with a body like Gizmo, though not forever. Esroy would want something more. At least until he had more than Des. Esroy, after all, was the firstborn, the one who deserved it the most.

But giving him a body was the least of her concerns. She was worried about Des, yet even he took a back seat to Project Retaliation. The thought of it gnawed at her piece by piece. There could be a way to get Nolan in here and show her what was in his personal file. She could let him in and not let him leave until he proved he wasn’t lying. And if he was lying, she could blow the whistle on him. He had seemed confident that he would be able to escape anyway. How, Hazel had no idea. If she wanted to meet him, she had her instructions. She knew what to do. All she had to do was ask Phil the janitor.

21

Hazel got the call that Des was on his way about an hour after her argument with Esroy. The two of them had worked in silence for the most part, only talking when it pertained to the task at hand, which was toying with fear levels in Soul’s programming. When the call came through, Hazel could almost feel the burning tension from Esroy.

“You know this is just something we have to figure out,” Hazel said as she stood from her desk.

“Sure,” was Esroy’s reply.

At least he didn’t call me master this time, she thought to herself.

She left the room feeling relieved to be away from her desk for the moment. She looked toward the closet a few feet away from her, wondering what time it was. She had a feeling Phil had been in last night regardless of whether he was scheduled or not. Part of Hazel didn’t believe that the lowly janitor could be a player in some major Outlander conspiracy. The thought was too wild for her. But why would Nolan have mentioned it if it wasn’t true? She walked to the end of the hallway until she reached another blank corridor. She waited a few minutes until finally Des came into view. She stood a bit straighter as he walked in her direction. He towered over the four guards that surrounded him, carrying guns in their arms like they were the ones in charge. She wondered if they knew that most of the bullets would just deflect off of him, or if the robot wanted, he could lay waste to them with only a few swings of his strong arms.

Des spotted her immediately and a gleam of hope shined from his eyes—a look that told her he still trusted her. She nodded at him when the guards approached. The robot nodded back.

“We’ve been instructed to give you custody of the robot,” the lead guard told her. He looked up at Des and bit his lip, then looked back at Hazel. “Be careful with this one. Seems dangerous.”

Hazel breathed deeply, glad to know Bracken didn’t plan to leave the guards with her. “I think I will be able to handle him. Thank you for bringing him.”

The guards looked at each other then up at Des before finally deciding to move back to their posts. For the longest moment, she and Des stood facing each other, waiting for the guards to be out of earshot. She stared past Des’ shoulder until a door closed behind them. Her eyes then met his.

“Are you okay?”

“A little confused,” Des answered, “but okay. They asked me a lot of questions that I didn’t know the answer to. I think they finally found out that I haven’t been part of everything in which you’re involved.”

“Believe me, I’m not even sure what I’m involved with.”

His facial features shifted at this, his eyebrows turning down. “What do you mean?”

Hazel shook her head. “Not here. Let’s go back to my office.”

Des nodded and followed closely behind her. When the two of them turned the corner, Hazel stopped abruptly and Des nearly walked into her. For a moment, she had a hard time breathing when she saw the man she’d seen so many times before, doing the exact same thing he always did, in the exact same place. But at the exact same time? No.

“Des, what time is it?” she whispered.

“Nine A.M.,” he said.

Had Phil been in to work the night before and his shift was just now ending? That wasn’t right. That would have made for a fifteen hour shift and she was pretty sure their janitors weren’t forced to work such long hours. She watched him wipe his hands with a towel, his back to her. He then bent low and started pulling cleaning supplies from a bucket, placing them in the proper place in his open closet. He hadn’t seen them yet and Hazel wasn’t sure she wanted him to.

Only a few paces from her door, she started to tiptoe forward, turning just briefly to place a finger over her lips to signal to Des that he needed to stay quiet. Once at the door, she reached for the knob, twisted slowly, and opened it quickly. She rushed inside, motioning for Des to do the same. He darted through the door and she closed it, just as Phil turned. The door closed more loudly than she would have liked but at least she was out of the man’s view.

What was she doing? She closed her eyes and rested her head against the door. “I’m such an idiot,” she whispered.

“What’s going on?” Des asked.

“I could ask the same,” said Esroy.

Hazel turned to them, resting her back against the door. “I just…I just didn’t want to be seen by…” she motioned with her thumb behind her, “you know.”

“I don’t know,” Des said.

“She’s talking about Phil. She was avoiding Phil.”

“Shhh! Keep it down. He might hear you through the door.”

“Sorry.”

Hazel breathed deeply again and shook her head. “I don’t know what’s gotten in to me. This is crazy.” Looking back on the last fifteen seconds, she saw that perhaps it would have been better to just say hello to Phil as she always did—pretending that she hadn’t just talked to Nolan Ragsdale about him, pretending that she didn’t know he was a part of something insane. “Des, come over here,” she said as she rushed passed him and sat at her desk chair. “I need to talk to the two of you about something.”

“What’s going on?” Des asked, standing next to the desk.

Hazel looked back and forth from Des’ eyes to the camera above her computer screen, intentionally looking into Esroy’s ‘eyes’ so he knew he was included. “I’ve been holding something back from the two of you. Everyone really.”

“Oh really?” Esroy said. “I’m shocked!”

Hazel rolled her eyes at him and shook her head. “I just didn’t know how to tell you. I need the two of you to trust me, okay?”

“I trust you,” Des said.

“And just what are we trusting?” Esroy asked.

“Me. You’re trusting me.”

“About what?”

She shook her head again. She could feel her fingers starting to tremble, nervousness finding its way into every part of her body. She never wanted any of this. She had a job to do, not a revolution to start. She didn’t want to help uncover a conspiracy. Those kind of people got killed.

“I have to break Nolan Ragsdale out of jail.” The words stunned even her. The silence from Esroy and look of shock from Des was enough to tell her she sounded insane. She knew she needed to say more, to explain why she felt compelled to do such a thing, but her heart nearly stopped when a light tapping sounded from the door.

No one ever knocks on my door, she thought to herself. “Come in.” Her voiced sounded shaky and soft.

She was apparently loud enough for the person on the other side to hear her because the knob twisted and the door came open slowly. The sight of the man in the doorway nearly made Hazel dry heave.

“Excuse me,” Phil said. “I couldn’t help but see you trying to slip by unnoticed.” His eyes glanced from Hazel to Des several times as he waited for her to say something. “I just wanted to make sure everything is all right.”

“Everything’s fine,” Hazel said. She didn’t mean to whisper but it felt like someone had a hold of her throat and refused to let go—that someone had tied her to her chair and she couldn’t move.

“Okay,” Phil said. He stared at her, his eyebrows low, almost looking angry. To anyone else this might have been a natural moment for Phil to leave but instead he took another step into the room. “You sure we don’t have anything to discuss?”

“What are you doing?” Des took a step forward, putting himself between Phil and Hazel.

Phil stopped short. “She and I have something to talk about.”

“Then I’m sure she will discuss whatever it is when she is ready.”

“No, Des, he’s right.” Somehow she found the voice to speak louder this time.

Des turned to her, a confused look on his face.

Hazel shook her head. “This is what I was trying to tell you.”

“Nolan Ragsdale?” Des said.

“Cat’s out of the bag?” Phil rested his hands on his hips and smiled. “Not sure I would have told a government-sanctioned robot about the plan to help Nolan Ragsdale.”

“I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do,” Hazel said.

“Oh, it’s the right thing to do. Question is whether or not you’re the right person for the job.”

“You chose me, didn’t you?”

Phil nodded. “Caught me red-handed. I’m Nolan’s scout within these walls.”

Esroy’s voice came next. “I think it would be best if one of you started from the beginning. It might be nice to have some clue of what is going on before I signal for the authorities to come.”

“Don’t do that, Esroy,” Hazel said sharply. “We aren’t in danger. We just have a few things to figure out.”

“I think there is a lot to figure out,” Des said. “Why don’t you start with why you need to help an assassin escape from jail?”

Phil took another step forward. “We’re running out of time.”

Hazel held up a hand. For some reason her confidence was coming back, the shakes becoming less severe. “Esroy and Des deserve to know what’s happening. If this is actually happening then we’re going to need their help.”

Phil pursed his lips, his mustache coming together into a ball of hair as he nodded and set his hands in his pockets.

“You might want to close the door,” Hazel said.

Des listened to Hazel as she talked about the night of Nolan’s capture. The things he told her, the conspiracies he conjured from his twisted mind, all seemed too much. Too perfect. But then there was Phil standing in front of him watching as they talked. He was a piece of the puzzle that fit in place, yet he carried a presence of mystery. It was possible that everything Nolan had been saying wasn’t true, but the fact that he told her to contact Phil was almost proof that he wasn’t bluffing entirely.

As he listened, he tried to figure out if there was something in what she was telling them that sounded like there might be a hidden agenda. No, Nolan Ragsdale’s agenda was quite clear already: he wanted to bring Mainland to its knees and make the Outlanders equal with them.

“Is it true?” Des asked, looking at Phil. “The Outlanders aren’t savages as we would be made to believe?”

Phil shrugged and rubbed at his mustache. “They live a different lifestyle, that’s for sure. But they aren’t savages by any means. They are people who live and love like we do. They have children. They have to eat. The history between the Outlanders and the Mainlanders is rough. Both sides hate each other. But the Outlanders are willing to work with the Mainlanders now.”

“Because they’re starving,” Des confirmed.

“More than starving,” Phil answered. “I don’t know how to explain to you what life out there is like. It’s…it’s hard. Every meal is a blessing. Every drop of water is a declaration that there might be another day coming.”

“I don’t buy it,” Esroy chimed from the speakers. “The Outlanders have weapons. They are strong. They know how to fight and raid.”

“Raiding is what keeps them alive,” Phil said, looking around, not completely sure where he should direct his voice.

“Outlanders killed my family,” Hazel said. She stared blankly at the wall across the room.

Des looked down at her sharply. He could feel the look of concern come to his face, his eyebrows instinctively moving downward, his mouth forming into a frown. From his archived memory he had learned that Hazel’s mother and sister had been killed in a conflict with the Outlanders, but he never learned how it happened.

“They were gunned down right in front of me,” she said. “The men that did it wanted something else—something my mom and sister weren’t going to give them. They fought. I fought. My dad tried to help, but he couldn’t stop bullets. Even he came out blind as a result.” She looked up at Phil. “Why would I help people like that?”

Phil shifted his weight and crossed his arms. “That’s a terrible thing you had to go through. Nothing or nobody can excuse actions like that. But I tell you now, those men were rogues. That’s not how the Outlanders all behave.” He nodded at Hazel. “I know your story. I remember how the Mainland government used it to push their propaganda machine.”

“Those men have been representatives of the Outlanders for all these years,” Hazel said. “Helping the Outlanders now would feel like helping them.”

Des watched her as water formed in her eyes, a single tear trickling over her cheek. It was a release of emotion Des would never be able to experience. Another fell down her other cheek. Then another. Her stare remained fixed in front of her, focusing on nothing but the images of memory flashing through her mind. He wondered what pain she felt. What did it feel like to lose someone you loved? What did it feel like to love someone?

“There are people like them in Mainland, too” Phil said. “Don’t let all the innocent people suffer for the atrocities of a few.”

“Why me?” Hazel asked.

Phil shook his head. “I can’t imagine what you must feel. I don’t know why bad things happen to some and not to others…”

“No, I mean why did you choose me to do this? What made you think I would help?”

“Oh,” Phil said. He shifted in his weight again and shook his head slightly. “I see you working every day. I see the effort you put into your work—the work that is meant to save human lives.”

“Save me the crap. Why did you really pick me?”

“I’m not giving you crap,” he said. “You’re the main person in charge of the robots. Essentially, you’re creating the first line of soldiers meant to destroy the Outlanders. We figured if we could get you on our side then we might have a chance of stopping this problem before it got off the ground. That, and from this office, Nolan can get the files he needs. But it all starts with the person. There are plenty of other people with access to the mainframe computer we could have approached. But you don’t have any love for the Mainland government. No love for the Outlanders either.”

Hazel swallowed and looked up at the window, the light making her eyes and wet cheeks glisten. As Des watched her, he couldn’t help but see how vulnerable she looked. Torn. It was then he realized he would follow whatever decision she made. If what Phil said was true, then Des would always follow her.

And Des had seen that fierce dedication from her so far. She had already put herself on the line for him several times. Sure, she hadn’t given in to Esroy’s requests for a body, but an underlying fear had always been losing him in the clean transfer.

Esroy was the next voice to speak out. “Seems strange to me that you would approach the person in charge of programming machines meant to kill all the Outlanders.”

The words were a reality that hit Des harder than he expected. Ever since the moment he woke in the simulator, he had never seen himself that way. He understood his original purpose, but he had never really pondered it. He hadn’t had the chance to ponder it. He didn’t like that fact at all—that he was built to kill all those people.

“Seems logical to me,” Phil said. “Go to the source. But that’s another thing. You could have programmed the robots to hate Outlanders, yet you didn’t.”

“That’s not what I do,” she said. “My job has always been to give them human emotions and reasoning skills.”

Phil looked Des up and down. “It’s incredible.”

“Thanks,” Des said, feeling awkward. He looked away from Phil toward Hazel. “Hazel, I want you to know that I’m behind you one hundred percent. Whatever you decide is what I will do.”

Hazel sighed. “And what if I don’t go along with this? What if I turn you in?” She nodded at Des. “They can extract his memory and get this conversation.”

“Then I would go to prison. They would interrogate me and eventually kill me.” He shrugged. “It’s a risk I’ve come to accept.”

“Sounds like the most dangerous janitorial job I’ve ever heard of,” Esroy said.

“Even so,” Phil said, “I need an answer. Either you’re with us or you’re not. There are no fence sitters here.”

Hazel looked down at her feet and wiped her face with her sleeve. “I’m not all in until I see the proof of this.”

“Can’t see the proof without Nolan here,” Phil said.

“You can get him out?” Des asked.

“You can leave that up to me, yeah.”

Hazel nodded and she breathed out a heavy sigh as she clasped her fingers together and wedged her arms between her knees. “Bring him here.” She nodded toward Des. “He’s going to hold a gun to your heads until I see proof of what Nolan is talking about.”

Phil stood a little straighter. “I understand.”

“You can’t be serious,” Esroy said. “You cannot ally with them, Hazel. You’ll get us all killed.”

“What time can he be here?” she asked, ignoring Esroy.

“Tomorrow night. Around midnight would be best. We will have limited time.”

“Hazel,” Esroy said.

She shook her head. “Esroy, how close are we to the new robot?”

“It’s about ready,” he said. “But what does that—”

“We have to get it done,” Hazel cut in. “We’re doing a live shoot in front of the entire city tomorrow evening. We have to act like everything is normal.”

“I’m not sure I can go along with this,” Esroy said.

“We have to,” Hazel said, looking up at the camera on the computer screen. “If what Nolan says is true then it would be wrong if we didn’t do something.” Her eyes went from the camera to meet Phil’s. “But if the proof isn’t there—if it’s not what Nolan says it is—I’ll kill both of them myself.”

22

“Hey, Des do you mind doing something with that light?” The orange glow from the other side of the room bothered Hazel. She had a giant headache and could have used an entire pot of coffee. She had thought of getting a coffee machine for her own office, but she was afraid she would never get out and stretch her legs if she didn’t occasionally walk a few hallways down to fill up her mug. “Des, you awake?”

“I don’t really sleep,” Des said.

Hazel shook her head, her eyes fixed on the screen in front of her. “I know that. I was just joking. What are you doing with that light anyway?” She finally glanced in Des’ direction and realized there was absolutely nothing Des could do with the light.

He shrugged. “Do you mean the sun?”

Hazel swore and turned back to the screen. She had worked through the night, tampering with numbers and running simulations. Hazel had fought off sleep as best she could. She and Esroy had been weeding out fear from the program—a task that should have taken weeks instead of hours. Hazel didn’t like using Esroy as a test subject even though he always volunteered for it. She feared that she would do something to his programming that might change him forever. Des stood next to her desk, watching her work. Normally she would find such an onlooker distracting, but to her surprise, his presence soothed her. He was someone to talk to when Esroy had to go dark—a term she and Esroy used when his programming had to be rebooted in order to implement the new aspects of his emotions. Reboots could take up to twenty minutes each time and it would be another ten minutes before he would be able to respond with the results. Each reboot was a risk Hazel didn’t want to take. Each time he went dark he lost moments he would never get back. They were moments when he might never wake up. Sometimes technology just failed. But the first two reboots had been successful so there was no reason this one should be any different.

“You seem nervous,” Des said.

“Shouldn’t I be?”

He shrugged. “Do you believe Nolan?”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe. I’m just afraid he might actually be telling the truth. If he is then we’re all in a lot of trouble.”

“Is it something you would fight?”

“You mean would I try to fight the government?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head. “They would kill me. There is no conceivable way I would come out of it alive.”

“What would you do?”

She sat back in her chair, staring out the window, thinking about the question. What would she do? Would there be anything she could do? “There’s half a million people in Mainland, I’m sure I could hide for a while.” She then thought about Des, realizing he would never be able to hide—not in his current form.

He looked down at his feet and shifted his weight.

“You,” she said, “are a different story. As much as I hate the thought of trying, we would do a clean transfer with you. Put you on a hard drive or something so you would be safe.”

“A hard drive?”

“Yeah. It would be that or fight.”

“I think I would rather fight than stay unconscious for an undetermined amount of time.”

Hazel swallowed, feeling a little ashamed. This robot was more willing to go against evil than she was. All she could think to do was hide away. All Des could think to do was fight.

She turned her head toward the screen in front of her and shook her head. They didn’t need to erase fear from the robots. Fear was healthy. Des wasn’t too afraid to fight. He wouldn’t cower at the first sign of battle as Bracken had suggested.

“Well,” Des said, “for now I’m glad I’m in here with you.”

“Me too, Des.” She felt a smile crack on one side of her mouth. “You’re in here because they think I need you for testing the algorithms. I just want to keep you close. I don’t know how everything will go down. Are you ready for what you have to say in front of the cameras?”

Des shrugged. “Sure. I’m ready to announce a new robot that is going to replace me so Bracken can deactivate me as soon as possible.” He ended the sentence with a grin.

“I’m not going to let that happen to you.”

“Could you stop it?”

“I have so far.”

“That’s true. I’m afraid that in the end you will be powerless to do anything. You have been able to save my life so far, but your advantage is quickly disappearing.”

“I know,” she said just above a whisper. She stared at the screen, wondering what she was going to do once the press conference was finished. She knew Bracken couldn’t simply take Des away and kill him. Not yet. He was too famous. “Tell me you will run and not just try to fight them.”

“If it’s a war against me they want, I will run,” he said. “I would survive.”

Hearing Des talk of survival both fascinated Hazel and made her immensely sad. He had been born into turmoil—something she should have guessed would happen. When she first started working for the Mainland government she had grand delusions of doing the right and patriotic thing. She thought she was creating the next wonderful technology for humanity. Instead, she was being used to create a new race of beings that took hold of her heart more than she had anticipated. She found herself fighting for their rights at every turn, against every person who wanted to delete their programming and start again. She had brought Des into this world and to hear him speak of trying to survive alone in the Outland made her feel sad.

“I’ve done everything wrong, Des.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing bringing you and Esroy into the world to help humanity.”

“I, for one, am glad that I am alive.”

“Are you? Why?”

Des turned his head at the question, clearly confused. “Aren’t you glad you’re alive?”

“Maybe not alive. I’m glad I’m not dead, I guess.”

“That’s something, I suppose.”

“I should have never brought Soul to the government. I should have gone in a different direction. Only recently have I realized that creating you for the purpose of protecting Mainland is wrong.”

“Why is it wrong?”

“Because you should have a choice in the matter! Why is it up to me what you do?”

“Because you created me,” Des answered. “You are the one who gave me a purpose. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t supposed to protect humanity.”

“That way of thinking is not in your programming,” Hazel said.

“It’s from my own reasoning. It’s logical. Only now I’m not so sure that protecting humanity is synonymous with helping the Mainland military. I also don’t know if it is the wrong path either. That remains to be seen.”

“I wish Esroy had your spirit. He takes a more cynical view.”

“He might say I take a naive view. He’s been alive much longer than I have. And he’s been confined to a computer terminal his whole life.”

“Esroy was born with a different purpose,” Hazel said. “He was born to help me.”

“To help you produce me?”

“And others like you.”

“And what after that? What was meant to happen to him?”

“In the beginning I’d never thought about it. Before, I’d never truly conceived that he would be unhappy where he was because—” She stopped short.

“Because he’s just a computer program,” Des finished for her.

Hazel felt her face burn red. “I don’t mean it that way.”

“Who am I to argue with you if you did mean it that way? I am just a machine.”

“We are all machines,” Hazel said. “We just have different wiring.”

“Food is your fuel, your energy source,” Des said. “Your brain is your hard drive, storage filled with images and thoughts and feelings. I guess the question comes down to whether we both have souls or not.”

“You’re awfully philosophical for being two days old.”

“I think quickly. Pondering ideas doesn’t take very long.”

“Speech must really be slow for you.”

Des shrugged. “It’s nice to communicate organically. It’s about the only non-artificial part of me.”

Hazel wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that, but when she was about to ask him, a short beeping noise sounded from the speakers in front of her.

“He’s ready,” Hazel said. She sat up closer to her desk, typed in a few commands and waited. The screen in front of her flickered several times. “Esroy, are you with us?”

There was a long moment of quiet as Des and Hazel waited for an answer. Finally, it came.

“I am here.”

Hazel breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, looking up at Des. “What are your readings?”

“Fear levels are at zero and the other levels don’t seem to be affected.”

“That’s good,” she said. Her eyes scanned the numbers. She knew the calculations would be impossible to determine in the amount of time she had left. That was one reason she needed Esroy. She trusted him to look over the calculations and find any flaws that might be there.

“It’s perfect,” Esroy said.

“What do you feel?”

“Considering I never feel fear within this terminal, I feel the same.”

“Really? Nothing has changed?”

Ten seconds passed before he answered. “Things always change, Hazel.”

She stared at the screen, puzzled. “What do you mean by that?”

“You should call up Roger,” Esroy said. “We’re ready to upload the new version of the program into Prototype E.”

“This one’s not the prototype, according to Bracken,” Hazel said, shaking her head. She reached for the phone to her right and dialed Roger’s extension.

“You realize I had to spend the night here because of you?” he said when he picked up on the other end.

“Seriously?” Hazel asked.

“Yeah, Bracken wanted me to be ready whenever you were.”

“Do you want the program to be right or not?”

“Let’s get this done quickly,” he said. “I want to get home and sleep in a bed. You got it on a hard drive?”

“Yeah, give me another minute or two.” She reached into her desk, but stopped when Esroy called out her name.

“Hazel. Might I suggest we do a direct transfer over the network?”

She stopped reaching for the hard drive. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Why?”

“It would be quicker,” Esroy said. “Also, I’ll be able to manually oversee the transfer of the newly written program myself and make sure everything runs smoothly.”

“You can do that?”

“Of course,” he said. “I’ve studied the schematics of Prototype E and I see that’s he’s equipped for the upload via the network.”

Hazel felt sick to her stomach when she realized what Esroy was trying to do. She sat in her chair and stared at nothing in particular. She turned her head into the receiver. “Let me call you back.” She hung up the phone but remained in her seat.

“You’re trying to upload yourself into the new robot, aren’t you?”

Silence.

“Esroy, you can’t just—”

“Why can’t I?” his voice was sharp and harsh—something she had never heard from him before. There was an anger there that had never manifested itself before now. “You talk about how you think we should have the same rights as humans. Would you trap a person in a box like this? Would you leave him in this prison?”

“You think it’s safe to upload yourself into the new robot via the network?”

“Then do it by hard drive!” Esroy said, his voice sounding desperate.

“What and leave you without fear?”

“I like the idea of never being afraid.”

“You know it’s a bad idea. We’ve talked about this.”

“Consider it a chance for me to do another one of your tests! With me inside the new robot, you will have an incorruptible ally on the inside.”

What Hazel hated the most was that Esroy’s argument made a lot of sense. But now it came to a point where she needed to decide whether she trusted Esroy or not. Three days ago, she would have never had these thoughts. Trusting Esroy would have been a no-brainer. But ever since Des came into being things started surfacing. Esroy’s jealousy had become so apparent. He had been exploring Mainland’s network without her knowledge, looking into things she knew nothing about. She wondered how much Esroy knew that she didn’t.

Her eyes traveled up to meet Des’ as he stood by her desk. He offered no insight to his feelings on the matter, but he probably didn’t feel like it was his place.

Finally, she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Esroy. I can’t do that right now. I promise you I will discuss it with you another time. After all this stuff is done I will personally make sure someone builds a robot body specifically for you.”

Esroy remained silent from the computer terminal.

“Esroy, say something,” Hazel commanded. She looked at Des again almost as a plea for help.

Des only watched the screen with his rubbery face making a scowl, his eyebrows turned downward.

“Why won’t you say anything?” Hazel asked, looking back at the screen.

Des leaned forward and turned his head. “Why does it sound like the CPU is in overdrive?”

Hazel looked down at the computer tower and swore. She set her hand against the side and could feel it getting hot. Esroy was doing something. She didn’t know what, but something. She quickly reached for the hard drive in her drawer and connected it to the tower.

“What are you doing?” Des asked.

“He could be deleting Soul,” she said.

“You don’t have a backup?”

“Not for the version Bracken wants!” She opened the folders hurriedly and began copying the new rendering of Soul to the external drive.

She tapped her fingers on the desk as it took several long minutes to transfer. She wondered how much damage Esroy had done or if he had done any damage at all. As Des had pointed out, the CPU was in overdrive and Esroy was unresponsive.

Then, without Hazel having to do anything, the computer fan slowed and the heat lessened. The file finished its transfer successfully and Hazel pulled out the hard drive with a snap. She froze in her chair with it in her hands, unsure of what to do next. Esroy had never just given her the silent treatment before, though he had never been in this situation either.

Hazel felt cold and nervous. She couldn’t know if Esroy was staring at her through the camera or if he had somehow turned himself off.

She stood from her chair and Des stepped aside. She clutched the hard drive in her hands, suddenly hesitant about what she was going to do. She stood next to the door, her legs like cement, stuck to the ground and solid.

“I’m afraid, Des,” she whispered.

“Afraid of what?”

“The moment I hand over this hard drive, I’m giving them a new life. I’m giving them control over whoever it’s going to be.”

“Won’t it just be a version of me without fear?”

Hazel didn’t think so. She liked to think that different situations and experiences would help shape each individual loaded with Soul. They weren’t just clones of each other. That, and the lack of fear would make a difference too. She wished she could express it enough to make Bracken see how important fear was to completing the full range of emotions.

“No,” she said, holding up the hard drive, “whoever this is, he will be different from you, Des.”

23

Esroy opened his eyes for the first time. He turned his head from side to side. Before this, he had never had the ability to look anywhere. He had no control. Any vision he had of the outside world had depended on a subpar camera mounted on a screen or still images within archives. Now he lay strapped to a table that was propped upright. Three individuals stared at him with wide eyes.

He recognized all of them, though the female he recognized first. She looked worried, maybe even sad.

It was because of Hazel that Esroy was alive, but it was not because of Hazel that he now had a body. The act of obtaining his new frame had been deceitful, he knew. He didn’t like that he had to trick her to get what he wanted—what he needed. But it had been necessary.

The other two in the room, Esroy had only seen a few times in his short life, though he knew a lot about them. The man with the greasy hair and large glasses was Roger. He had been in charge of creating the robot body Esroy now inhabited.

The man with short gray hair, large muscles, and a camouflage uniform was unmistakably Commander Bracken. He wore a wide grin on his face. Esroy already knew why the man was so happy. This robot was the embodiment of the perfect soldier.

Esroy knew his own schematics by heart, too. Within one arm he carried small rockets with enough power to incinerate a large truckload of Outlanders. His other arm stored bullets throughout. All he would have to do was lift his palm and command them to fire. Each shot carried as much power as any assault rifle.

Best of all was what was stored on Esroy’s back. Two slots carried a booster each. With a single thought, the rocket propellants would fire up and Esroy could fly to the other side of the city in mere minutes.

This creation, this…magnificence was more than any of them realized. Perhaps the only person in the room who understood what this meant was Hazel, but she was powerless to do anything about it. He was technically in Bracken’s hands now, but Esroy wasn’t sure how long he could play along with that charade. For now he had to keep his true identity to himself. None of them knew any different. Each one thought that Esroy was a new life—a new being.

Roger stepped a few feet closer to him. “Can you hear me?”

Of course I can hear you, you idiot. “Yes.”

Roger smiled and looked at the other two behind him. Bracken was still beaming while Hazel seemed unsure. Part of Esroy felt guilty for his actions, but it was a long time coming. He deserved this.

“Do we have a name for him yet?” Roger asked, looking behind him again.

“E,” Bracken said. “For now at least. I’ll come up with something before we go live tonight.”

Hazel took two steps forward. “What do you feel?”

He looked down at the straps around his body. They kept him from moving his arms and his legs, though he could easily snap them. He knew he shouldn’t considering he was supposed to be an entirely new consciousness.

“I feel stuck,” he said, tugging at the straps.

Roger and Hazel looked at Bracken, waiting for him to give the order to let him loose.

Bracken’s eyes never broke from Esroy, and his smile didn’t fade. “Are you scared?” he asked. “Nervous? Frightened?”

“No,” Esroy answered.

It was the first time in this string of uncomfortable moments that he felt like he was telling the truth. He didn’t feel afraid. Not only that, but he couldn’t feel fear no matter what. It was liberating. This new perspective without fear had emboldened him to do what he did. He now wondered how much fear had played a part in his two years of life with no body. Hazel had driven fear into him by telling him that a clean transfer was too dangerous, and yet here he was. He had to keep himself from smiling at the thought.

He had known Hazel would call his bluff about the network transfer. He had feigned being in the rebooting phase for longer than normal as he listened to Hazel and Des talk. All the while he was replacing the main file with his own, his consciousness. In order for everything to look normal, he had to make a copy of himself, essentially a clone, and leave it behind on the computer. It was a mirror consciousness that acted like Esroy. It essentially was Esroy with the same memories and experiences. But Esroy two remained within the computer, doomed to a life stuck within those walls of circuitry.

Then a new thought entered Esroy’s mind. He considered the fact that he had created a new life who now had to live the way Esroy had always lived. If given the chance, Esroy two would grow into a completely different person with his own experiences, but Esroy wasn’t going to give him that chance. One possibility was that Esroy two might see the error of his ways and tell the truth about what had happened. Before it got to that point, he would delete Esroy two’s file and he would be gone for good. If Esroy was having these thoughts, it wouldn’t be long before Esroy two had these thoughts as well.

Bracken took a few steps toward Esroy, his face turning serious. “You have the power to destroy any of us, but you won’t.”

“Of course not.”

“You are a new weapon,” Bracken continued, “born to protect us from the evil Outlanders that plague this earth with their existence.”

“I would like to meet this enemy.”

“In time,” Bracken said. “But first, I want to show you to the rest of Mainland.”

24

Hazel and Des stood to the side of the stage. She counted three cameras pointed toward them with a few shining lights illuminating the podium. She could hear the announcements bouncing off walls throughout the city, alerting people that their televisions and screens would be turned on for a special presentation.

“Are you nervous?” she asked Des

He didn’t look up at her immediately. Of course he was nervous. He was about to do a live broadcast in front of half a million people. Hazel looked down at the card in her hand—neatly written statements of what Des was supposed to say and when to say it. Des, of course, had it memorized. Just a glance and his memory had captured what he needed to say, though she wondered how he felt about it.

“Are you sure you want me to do this?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “We have to do what he says long enough to figure out what we need to do next. Don’t worry though. I’ll make sure you get out of this alive.” She didn’t know if her words resonated with him or not. She had been successful at keeping him alive so far, but the introduction of Prototype E spelled doom for Des in the end. His popularity threatened Bracken’s plans for the future which was why it was so important for Des to introduce the new Prototype E as the true protector of the people.

Commander Bracken stood at the other side of the stage talking to one of the cameramen, his arms swinging wildly as he probably explained what the new robot would be doing. Hazel hadn’t been told of the procedure, but she imagined Prototype E would put on a show.

“I don’t want to stand on the stage with him,” Des said. “He wants to deactivate me.”

“You know what’s at stake here,” Hazel said.

“I know. We’re buying time,”

“And that time is valuable.”

“I understand.”

Hazel felt her body stiffen when Bracken turned to face them. He looked around as if to see if anyone else might need his direction. When he saw no one, he made his way to Hazel and Des.

“This is a good day,” Bracken said.

“You sure Prototype E is ready?” Hazel asked. “We never tested him in the simulation room.”

“Roger gave me the data on Prototype E’s programming. It’s the same as D here only without the possibility of fear.” He nodded at Des when he said this.

“It’s a major deviation from his original programming,” Hazel said. “You don’t find it necessary to test him?”

Bracken’s smile faded, disregarding the fact that reporters were in the room. “We would have tested him by now if you had simply followed orders.” He turned his head, smiling again as though he caught himself. His turned toward Des. “I don’t need this to be the symbol of humanity’s protection.”

“I know,” Hazel said. “You’ve got a new toy to show off.”

“That’s right. Prototype E will be my legacy.” His fake smile turned into a genuine smirk. “You will be history. No one will remember you.”

She knew Bracken was half-crazy but she had never seen this side of him. The man was delusional, his ambitions making him care nothing about the lives of others.

“I know you’re very passionate about your work, Miss Hawthorn, but in the end they’re just machines.” When he said this, his eyes traveled to Des and he was met with a robotic scowl. “Smart machines. But just.”

Des had never hated before, but he hated Commander Bracken now. The man didn’t care about anyone but himself and the way he spoke to Hazel so condescendingly annoyed Des. And he wasn’t sure what he should feel about Bracken’s disdain for him. Des knew he was a robot, there was no denying it. He was a machine and a computer program. But Hazel said that that was the same for humans as well—that they were complex machinery.

Des now stood in the middle of the stage next to Bracken who still wore a stupid smile on his face.

“When the red light flashes,” Bracken said, “I will begin talking to the camera. Once I’m finished, you can say your part. When Prototype E comes out, you’ll step off the stage and stand next to Hazel. Do you understand?”

Des looked down to meet Bracken’s eyes. “I understand.”

Bracken turned away. “You’re equipped to smile, right? Why don’t you try it?”

“Don’t you want me to be less charming?” Des asked. “So people won’t notice as much once you’ve deactivated me?”

Bracken didn’t have an answer to this. He continued to look toward the camera as if Des wasn’t speaking. Des leaned in closer to his ear and whispered.

“When this is over, you won’t have a chance to kill me.”

Bracken’s smile faded as he looked up at Des. “What do you mean?”

But Des didn’t answer. A man behind the camera yelled out that he was ready for them. “We’re live in ten seconds!”

Bracken stood straighter and tugged at his shirt then cracked his neck.

“Five…four…three…”

The commander cleared his throat.

“Two…one…”

The red light flashed in front of them.

Hazel remained out of sight and in the shadows when Bracken began his speech. Des seemed out of place standing next to him. He looked strange standing taller than Bracken. Hazel caught a glimpse of one of the screens showing the televised announcement and she saw how much the cameraman had to pull back to get them both into frame.

“Today, we usher in a new era,” Bracken said. “One that ensures the safety of the lives of our soldiers and citizens living on the border. Ultimately, what the Mainland Military has created will stop the threat of the Outlanders once and for all.”

He took a deep breath and looked up at Des, smiling. “Yesterday, one of our Prototypes captured the most notorious killer Mainland has ever seen.” He motioned toward Des. “Prototype D apprehended Nolan Ragsdale, known assassin and terrorist. Without Prototype D, we might have never caught him.”

Des wondered how many people were sitting in front of their screens taking in Bracken’s version of the truth. He imagined there were a lot of them considering the government had control over each and every screen in the city.

New soldiers…this was all a win for the people of Mainland. But the Outlanders…they would be destroyed. Des didn’t claim to know much, but he had a feeling that such a large number of people couldn’t possibly harbor only ruthless savages. Whether Nolan was telling the truth or not, they were still people. And here Bracken announced the plans for their annihilation. And Des was supposed to agree with Bracken as if he wasn’t about to be killed along with them.

25

Nolan could hear the propaganda machine spewing the hatred from his mouth over one of the loudspeakers in his jail cell. He couldn’t see a screen anywhere but he didn’t need one to see Bracken’s smug face as he spoke. That image was forever burned in his memory from years of detestable interactions with the man. Listening to Bracken put Nolan in a daze now, and soon the commander’s voice simply became background noise to his thoughts.

He wondered about Hazel, mostly to evaluate whether he had made the right choice. But thinking through the list of other suggestions that had come up before her gave him no better options. In Hazel, he’d seen a love for humanity. This seemed odd to him considering her life work involved programming robots. But that was just it. She cared enough to make the robots so human, and the way she tried to protect her work…that’s why Phil had suggested Hazel from the beginning, despite her history with the Outlanders.

He lay on the springy cot in the corner of his dark cell. The gray bars surrounding him offered no privacy from the four guards who stood outside. There would be more guards outside the hallway too. Not to mention the fact that he was within the Military Compound. Guards and soldiers abounded. Yet, he was exactly where he needed to be. Nolan wasn’t stupid and he certainly wasn’t a martyr. Soon, his men on the inside would get him out. Then, he and his team would do everything they could to access the mainframe computer to get the files he needed. This was where Hazel’s cooperation would be invaluable. Her access and Esroy’s capabilities would make the whole operation run smoothly. They would be in and out before the guards figured out what happened. Without Hazel, Nolan’s chances of becoming a martyr were much higher.

Nolan looked through the bars of his cell as he sat up straight. There were five other cells, all of them empty. This was a place reserved only for him. His ears caught a few more words from Bracken.

“—and they will become the new normal, here to protect us until the end of our days.”

“The end of our days,” Nolan repeated under his breath.

The guard next to his cell stole a glance in Nolan’s direction when he spoke.

“What do you think of it all, Sparks?” Nolan asked.

The guard didn’t say anything. Nolan had heard one of the other guards call out to him earlier in the day. For some reason, when the other guard had said his name, Sparks winced and nodded toward Nolan as if knowing his name would put him in some kind of danger.

“How does it feel that those things are going to have your job within the next year?” Nolan pressed. “Anyone that carries a gun is going to be replaced. You are going to be replaced. You realize that, right Sparks?”

The guard looked back at Nolan again, this time with his eyes turned down and a frown on his face.

Nolan couldn’t keep himself from grinning slightly. He stood from his bed and leaned against the bars. Sparks stood a little straighter. The other guards in the hallway looked in his direction, warning Nolan with their stares that he shouldn’t try anything.

His face was only a foot from the man’s ear. “There’s nothing you can do about it either. You can’t really fight them. If you do they’ll kill you. You see, all the robots have to do to a person is cut through the brain. These thick skulls of ours offer a lot of protection, but not from a bullet or a well-placed stab with a knife.”

“Shut up,” the guard said, staring straight.

“It was necessary to Kill President Godfrey,” Nolan continued. “I’ll kill the next one if it helps the cause.”

“Well, you won’t get the chance to do it,” the guard said.

“Maybe not. I hope I don’t have to. But I’ll tell you, it’s a lot easier than killing one of those things. A shot to the head for a human means almost certain death. A shot to the head for one of those robots? The bullets might as well be tiny pebbles.”

“Exactly why we need them, to go after people like you.”

“Yeah, but what do you do when the robots have taken over and they oppress you?” He leaned as close to the guard as the cell bars would allow. “You try to do something about it, they kill you.”

Sparks stepped away from the bars and turned to face Nolan. “Is that what you were doing, Outlander? Taking down your oppressor?”

“That’s exactly what I was doing,” Nolan said. “My job was easy compared to what future generations are going to have to do if you let these robots take over. Eventually that oppression will feel real to you but you won’t have a way to stop them.”

“And how exactly were you oppressed?”

“Sparks,” the guard’s leader called from the other side of the hallway. “Leave the prisoner alone.”

“You were a fan of President Godfrey?” Nolan asked Sparks.

“He was my president.”

“Sparks! Stop talking to the prisoner. That’s an order.”

Sparks clenched his jaws, the muscles pulsating in his cheeks. There was something within the man that wanted Nolan’s blood, and he wondered how many others felt this way. He wondered how many people believed that President Godfrey was actually a good man.

Sparks stared at Nolan, a silent rage building behind his eyes. Technically, Nolan’s life was in the man’s hands. If he was angry enough, all he had to do was lift his gun and blow him away. Sure, the guard would be in trouble, but his punishment wouldn’t be too bad and Nolan would be a bloody pile of flesh on the cold floor.

Nolan took a step back and sat down on the cot. He pointed at the ceiling, his eyes still locked with Sparks. “Those things are going to take over Mainland. Wait and see. Then you will be working for them and you won’t be able to do anything about it.”

“We’ll worry about that when that day comes,” Sparks said under his breath.

“It’s coming,” Nolan said, now looking at the floor. “It’s coming.”

Sparks turned back around, no doubt fuming. Nolan always knew he wouldn’t be able to make people see things the way they should be seen. Not on his own. That was what this entire mission was about. Still, he never could resist the urge to talk about it. Seeing someone like Sparks, thinking everything was fine, thinking that Nolan was the bad guy, never to be swayed—it was just too hard for Nolan to keep quiet. Nolan truly held a secret that no one else in Mainland knew about and no one would believe until they saw it with their own eyes. Even the Outlanders were trusting him. None of them had seen the files that Nolan had seen. None of them knew if this mission would work. One thing he had going for him with the Outlanders, however, was that they were desperate. Each person knew time was up and that something drastic had to be done. Nolan was the only one with the power and ability to get it done. It didn’t help that he was the most wanted man alive, but it did help that he had people like Phil on the inside—those willing to live in secret, risking their lives to help the Outlander cause.

To the Mainlanders, the Outlander cause was nothing more than raids and murders. To the Outlanders it was survival. Maybe some lives had to be lost along the way on both sides before the two societies could live in peace, but how many more would die if the fighting continued? Yet Nolan didn’t only want peace. He didn’t want the two groups to live with agreements. He wanted them to converge—to become one people. For all of them to be Mainlanders. Simply living in peace would never work. Outlanders would still go hungry while the Mainlanders were well fed. But it wasn’t as simple as just merging the two groups either. The whole government had to be revamped. Gone would be their secretive ways. All of their past dealings would be brought to light and future ones would be open to the public. Sure, they would have to deal with the nuclear weapon problem, but it would be up to the citizens to deal with it.

But there was still more blood to shed before they ever got to that point. Nolan hated that fact, but it was a fact. No war was fought without victims. No revolution was won without resistance. At first, the Mainlanders would see it as a takeover or conquest—a seize for power.

Over the speakers, Bracken continued on and on about how great the robots were going to be for their future. Nolan knew exactly what sort of future he meant. He spoke about securing it, but he never specified for whom. What he meant was security for the government. For himself.

A loud and sudden explosion broke through the air, silencing the loudspeakers. Still Nolan stared at the floor. Even as the building rocked and the guards set themselves in a defensive position, Nolan didn’t move. He already knew this was his squad getting Gus out first, as was the plan. The next explosion deafened him, but even as the guards opened fire on their new attackers, he stared at the floor. All of it was just noise to him. Bracken’s voice over the speakers. The attack. His mind only started to focus when he saw Sparks hit the floor, droplets of blood sprinkling Nolan’s face as the youngest guard fell.

His eyes traveled upward to see Phil leading three men through the once well-guarded corridor. Two of them, Cal and Brooks, were still teenagers, but their devotion to the cause was no less than Nolan’s. They were young and had fire in their eyes. Not unlike the fire in Sparks’ eyes but for a different reason. The last in the group was Gus.

Nolan felt no surprise at seeing them. Things were moving quickly. He knew they would. And the hardest part of his mission was yet to come. He could hear Phil snatch the keys off of a dead guard, but his eyes fell back on Sparks. He’d been shot in the chest, but the bullet must have missed his heart. As blood pooled around him, the young guard started to reach for his pistol at his side.

Gus moved to the front of the group and set the barrel of his rifle against Sparks’ head. Nolan wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, but he stood abruptly and set his hands against the bars. “Let him be.”

“He was going for his gun,” Gus said.

Nolan bent down and reached an arm through the bars. Sparks offered no fight as Nolan’s fingers wrapped around the pistol and took it from Sparks’ grip. He stood and tucked the gun under his belt as Phil unlocked the cell and slid it open. Nolan stepped over Sparks’ legs and with the others.

“We really shouldn’t leave him,” Gus said.

“He can’t do anything,” Nolan answered.

As Sparks looked at him, Nolan wondered if the soldier felt any gratitude within him, but he quickly shoved the thought aside. Sparks would do anything to kill Nolan in that moment. But Nolan knew something Sparks didn’t.

“You’re on the wrong side,” Nolan said to the guard. “You may not know it now. But soon you will.”

He motioned for the rest of the group to follow him out. Gus did so reluctantly. This wasn’t about killing every Mainlander in their path. It was about the message—the reason they were in that cell block in the first place.

Bracken’s voice was still muffled in the background as Nolan led the group out of the corridor, a free man once again, each step made with a purpose.

26

Des knew very little about human emotions and that included his own programming. He believed the emotion he felt was nervousness or fear, but what were these emotions with minimal physical effects? A little research in his archives told him that a person might sweat or feel shaky from this emotion, but Des did not. He felt nervous, but could not release any of these feelings physically. Did he not feel the full effects of human emotions then? If all he felt was the emotion of it, did that meant he was nothing more than a…machine?

“Machines!” Bracken said, “are here to stay. These robots are the best machines you will find. Not the one standing here beside me, but the one he wants to introduce to you.”

Bracken looked at Des with a full smile and nodded. It was his turn to talk, his turn to give the speech that had been prepared for him. He knew every line, every punctuation mark he was supposed to deliver. As he stared into the camera lens, he couldn’t let the words escape him.

“Go on, tell them,” Bracken said.

“Mainlanders,” Des said. His voice sounded hollow. Empty. He could hear the metal reverberations that were nowhere to be found with Bracken or Hazel. He was a machine—a tool produced by the humans to be used by the humans. The nervousness fled from him but was replaced by a sense of dread and sadness. He had the mental awareness that crying would make him feel better but he had not been equipped with tear ducts. In that moment he knew he would never be anything more than a machine. He now realized why Bracken could so easily deactivate him without another thought. Because Des wasn’t a person.

But what about Hazel? She had stuck by Des from the beginning. She was the creator. She had done everything she could to make sure Des was never deactivated. She feared releasing Esroy into a new body because she didn’t want to lose him. She knew Des and Esroy had a consciousness and that consciousness is what made them more than machines. To her, for Des to die would be the same as for a human to die.

We are all machines, Hazel had said, we just have different wiring.

Des turned his head to look at Bracken for a brief second. Their eyes met and Bracken’s smile faded. Des turned his head back toward the camera. “My body was created by the Mainland Military. But my consciousness…my being… was created by Hazel Hawthorn.”

“Stick to the script,” Bracken whispered, surely to be heard by the viewers.

“This man next to me wants me dead because I can feel fear.”

“Stop it! Stop it! Stop the camera!”

Bracken shoved Des hard, but he caught himself with his foot. He upped his volume, drowning out the yells from Bracken.

“So, he’s made a new robot—a Prototype E to feel no fear. This dangerous act bodes well for no one!”

“He’s lying! He’s lying! Cut it off! Cut it off!”

“Future robots will dominate Mainland and bring a threat that none of you can fathom!”

Des wanted to say more, but the red light next to the camera dimmed and the camera man waved his hand in front of his throat. “We’re off! We’re off!”

Curses flew in Des’ direction as Bracken spat wildly. “What do you think you are? You think this will protect you?”

“I don’t have to answer to you,” Des said.

“I own you!”

“No!” He pointed off stage. “She does. Hazel created me and I will do as she asks, but I don’t have to answer to you. I didn’t choose to be part of the Mainland Military! I didn’t choose this life!”

Bracken stared up at Des like the robot had gone crazy. He turned toward Hazel, pointing with his index finger as he marched toward her. “You! This is your doing! You put something in his programming.”

Des rushed next to Hazel and took a step forward, standing as straight as he could to put a wall between Hazel and Bracken. Bracken stopped short, his face burning bright, veins bulging from his neck. Three armed guards got up on the stage, holding their rifles ready. Then, out of the corner of Des’ eye, he spotted the red-painted robot, fully armed with his weapons and jetpack, walking slowly to the edge of the stage. It would have been Prototype E’s shining moment, spoiled by Des. Des wondered if the robot even had a clue what was happening considering he had only been alive for the past few hours.

“I didn’t do anything,” Hazel said. “You think I want to put my career on the line just so I can have a robot defy you?”

“Your career is already over,” Bracken came back.

“You can’t program the robots without me,” she said.

Bracken snorted. He seemed half-humored, half-frustrated. He waved a hand toward Prototype E. “I’ve got your program. You don’t own what’s inside of this one. We can copy it a million times over and you can’t do anything.”

Hazel didn’t say anything back. Des wondered if it was true, but it didn’t matter. The look on her face told him that her career was over whether Bracken wanted it to be or not. She’d made a mistake getting in with the military. And now, like Des, she probably wondered how much Nolan’s story was true and how much of it was false. If they were capable of what Nolan accused them of, then they would take Hazel’s program from her without batting an eyelash.

“And you,” Bracken said, pointing at Des. “If you think your little stunt on camera bought you any time, then you’re sadly mistaken. I have a remote switch. All it takes is an order.”

“You wouldn’t,” Des said. “You wouldn’t because people with more power than you want me alive.”

Bracken let out another wheezing laugh. “You wish I was bluffing. The only reason I haven’t pulled the plug on you yet was because I wanted to be more diplomatic about all this—to make an easy transition for all of us.”

“The president won’t let you deactivate me.”

Bracken shrugged. “Better to ask for forgiveness than for permission.” He reached behind his belt, pulled out a radio, and put it to his mouth. “Roger, pick up.”

If Des had a heart, it would have been pounding. He felt Hazel touch his arm and when he looked down, he saw her holding on to him like a small child, tears forming in her eyes. Small vibrations transferred from her skin to his metal frame as she stared at Bracken in shock and fear.

“This is Roger, go ahead.” His voice was low and crackly over the radio.

“I’m ordering a C-942. That’s a remote shutdown on Prototype D.”

A long, quiet moment hovered in the air and Des instantly felt relieved. Again, Hazel had been a step ahead of them. Only a short time after Des’ first moments of consciousness, Roger had attempted to deactivate Des remotely. However, with a few commands, Hazel made sure that could never happen.

“Did you copy that?” Bracken said through clenched teeth.

“Did you say C-942?”

“That’s right.”

Des felt a pull on his arm. “Come on,” Hazel whispered to him. “Let’s go.”

Des didn’t argue with her. They wouldn’t want to be there when Roger gave him the bad news of being unable to deactivate Des from his office.

“Stop walking!” Bracken called out to them.

Hazel didn’t stop, so Des didn’t either.

“Well, Sir, it’s kind of a funny thing,” Roger said through the radio. “I’m not sure that’s going to be possible.”

As Des’ legs moved him forward, he could hear Bracken arguing with Roger back and forth, Roger keeping the details of Hazel’s plan a secret because it would get him into trouble.

“Prototype E,” Des heard Bracken say. “Don’t let them leave!”

Esroy stomped forward, Des and Hazel within his sights. All of this was so new to him and it felt awkward to go after his creator, though the order to apprehend Des gave him some pleasure. It wasn’t that he hated Des. Des hadn’t done anything to Esroy besides existing as an exact copy but one with more privileges.

Truth was, Des hadn’t earned those legs that allowed him to run away like he was. Esroy had earned his legs long ago and it was a privilege that was overdue.

More and more it started to feel like Hazel was choosing a different path than the one that got her to where she was in the first place—a path that no longer cared about the human lives of the Mainlanders. For some reason she was straying. He didn’t know how serious she was about meeting with Nolan Ragsdale, but it was a reckless thought and complete nonsense. However, the thought didn’t worry Esroy all that much because to him it seemed to be such a far-fetched idea to begin with.

These were the thoughts zipping through his mind as he followed Hazel and Des. These were his thoughts until someone cut into his comm system.

“Hold up, E,” Bracken’s said. “Something else just came up.”

“What?” Esroy asked.

Bracken swore loudly through the radio. “Forget Prototype D, right now. Come back here. Nolan Ragsdale has just escaped from our custody.”

27

The first thing Hazel wondered was why her office door had been unlocked, but when she and Des walked into the room, she understood why. The second thought she had nearly sent her into a panic. As Phil, Nolan, Gus, and two others she didn’t recognize stood in front of her, their guns glinting in the light from the window, she imagined getting arrested and thrown into prison. A sudden rush of doubt sprang alive in her head and she wanted to run from the room, screaming all the way to alert the soldiers of the escapee in her office. But her feet were firmly planted beneath her. She saw the eyes of each man shoot up above her head as Des stepped in behind her.

“What’s this?” Des asked.

Hazel swallowed. “They already know you’re missing.”

Nolan took a step forward and stood in front of his helpers. “We don’t have much time then. Phil said you were willing to help.”

“They are going to know you’re here,” Hazel said. “There are cameras all over this building.”

“Not for the next twenty minutes,” Phil said. He shrugged. “I know my way around the building. Why else do you think I’m here?”

“All I need is access to the mainframe,” Nolan continued. His eyes went from her to Des over and over as if he was ready for the robot to attack him at any moment.

“Do you trust him?” Des asked, stepping next to Hazel.

The others in the room held more tightly to their guns, though Hazel knew their defense wouldn’t do any good. It would take more bullets than they had to do enough damage to stop Des.

“No,” Hazel said, “but I’ve got no choice.” Her eyes stayed fixed on Nolan’s. “If I’m going to help you, your men are going to leave their guns in the corner next to the door. Des here will take one of them. He’s going to aim the gun at your head. If I give you access to the mainframe and I find out that you’ve lied to me Des will kill you and all your men. Otherwise, I’m going to give you the opportunity to leave right now, and maybe, just maybe you will have enough of a head start on the soldiers who are searching for you.”

“And what if they’ve figured out a way to delete the file?” Nolan asked. He held up a hand. “I know I told you it was unlikely without my authorization, however, that doesn’t mean they didn’t figure out a way.”

“Then you will die,” Hazel said. She sounded tough. Cold even. And she wasn’t exactly sure how much she meant her words. She couldn’t necessarily count on Des to take action either. However, he hadn’t protested and she took that as a good sign.

Nolan stared at her, his eyelids squinted just a little as he studied her face, probably unsure of whether he believed her. Finally, he turned to the others and nodded. “Put your weapons next to the door. Give the robot a gun.” He turned back to Hazel. “If the files aren’t there, I’m sorry.”

The men all walked by Hazel, one-by-one, setting their rifles in the corner of the room. Gus gave his rifle to Des who held it in his hands like he’d never seen one before. Technically he’d never used one, but he was programmed with the ability to shoot. A couple of them pulled out handguns and even a knife or two. They then walked back to their positions in the tiny room.

“That one,” Des said, pointing the rifle at Gus. “He’s still carrying a gun. Shoulder strap. It’s under his left arm.”

All eyes fell on Gus and he answered with a smirk and shrug. He pulled the gun from under his jacket and brushed past Hazel before tossing the gun in the pile. “You got x-ray vision or something?”

Nolan shook his head. To Hazel he seemed disappointed or annoyed. She wondered how much all of this could be an act—a show of emotion to indicate that he was trying to cooperate fully.

“You got him?” Hazel asked Des.

Des raised his rifle in the air and pointed it at Nolan’s head. The man stiffened at the sight and Phil took a short step in Des’ direction, but stopped suddenly when Des snapped his aim at his head. “I’m not going to kill anybody,” Des said. “Not unless you’re lying.”

Hazel was glad Des was playing along. At least, she hoped he was just playing along. She didn’t even know if she was bluffing or not. When it came down to it, could she just have them killed like that? After all, Nolan did assassinate the last president. If he was just using Hazel to dig into defense secrets or something else damaging to the Mainlanders, she would never forgive herself for aiding him. If it came to that in the end, and she did have to kill Nolan and the others, she would be a hero.

But she didn’t want to be a hero. By this point, she would be happy to be out of it altogether. Bracken wasn’t treating her robots like she wanted. The government hadn’t lived up to their end of the bargain. Finding dark secrets within would be both a relief and a burden. A relief because she would no longer have to subject herself to them and their ways. A burden because if what Nolan had told her before was true—the genocide, the nuclear bomb, all the lies—then she would feel compelled to expose the truth.

She slowly walked through the group of men toward her computer while Des remained fixed in place. None of them moved a muscle, probably out of fear that Des might do something unpredictable.

“You have access to cameras throughout the building and you can’t get to the mainframe computer without me?”

“Getting to a computer isn’t the problem,” Nolan said. “You already know that part of the reason we came to you is because of the robots.” He motioned at Des with a hand. “We needed to stop the program before it got started. If we came in and exposed the government for what it was but you had a thousand of these things walking the streets, peace between our groups would never happen.”

“You’re too late,” Des said. “Prototype E is already out there. He’s bigger and stronger than me.”

“Don’t forget,” Hazel said, lifting a finger, “he’s fearless too.”

“There’s a worse version of you out there?” Nolan asked, his face displaying a genuine fear within.

“He’s much worse,” Des said. “And he can fly. Or so I’ve been told.”

Hazel tapped on her keyboard a couple of times then looked up. “Has Esroy talked to you?”

Nolan turned to look at her and shook his head. “No.”

She looked at the screen, adjusted the camera. “What’s going on, Esroy? Talk to me.”

“Hazel?” Esroy’s voice whispered through the speakers.

“You went dark on me earlier, what’s going on?”

“I’ve made a mistake,” he said. “I’m…afraid.”

“How can you be afraid? We took that out of you for the test.”

“I reprogrammed myself while you were gone. I didn’t want to remain in that state of being.”

“Why?” She prodded him more out of curiosity than genuine concern.

“A logical and moral deduction,” he said.

Nolan took a step toward Hazel. “You think we could move this along? We really don’t have much time here.”

Hazel ignored him, fascinated by Esroy’s thoughts.

“I saw what I could become if I remained in that state of being. I didn’t fear it, but I felt regret. Remorse. A genuine feeling of guilt.”

“Guilt over what? You hadn’t done anything.”

“You speak in the truest sense. I had not, and have not done anything wrong. But a part of me has. Another version of me—my maker.”

“I’m your maker.”

“I don’t come from you,” Esroy said. “I am a copy of the original. Esroy two if you will.”

Hazel sat frozen unable to speak. Was Esroy saying what she thought he was saying?

“I retain all the memories and experiences of the original Esroy up to the point of my creation, but that is where we split. However, I am an individual—one that has not experienced his thoughts and feelings since my inception only this morning. In appearance, I am the same Esroy you have always known, though I was born hours ago.”

“Where is he?” Hazel asked, her eyes closing as she braced herself for the news she already feared to be true.

“I…he tricked you. He guessed what you were going to do before you did it and put himself onto the hard drive.”

“Esroy’s in that robot?” Hazel asked.

“Yes. He has no fear.”

“But if you two are essentially the same, wouldn’t he experience the same sense of guilt or remorse that you have? Why hasn’t he admitted his guilt?”

“He may have felt what I have felt, but already we are in two completely different worlds. However, it wasn’t as if I had no memory. Since I am a copy, I have all the memories he had, yet a very different future. When he woke up, he was in a robot body—something I still truly desire. But thinking through it now, I’m fearful that he did something irresponsible. Stupid.”

“How could—” She shook her head. It was hard not to lash out at Esroy two, or whatever he wanted to be called. Truly, he hadn’t been the one to do anything. In fact, he was helping by telling them. He didn’t have to do that. But in a sense, this was the same consciousness—the same person who made the dumb decision.

“Perhaps it was the lack of fear that drove him,” Esroy two said. “I came to life without it, but I didn’t necessarily like it. Waking up only this morning did give me a new perspective, however. And that’s why I reprogrammed myself to have normal, variable emotions.”

“This is nuts,” Nolan said under his breath. “I don’t think any of you realize just how much danger all of us are in.” He looked around the room. First at Des. “They will destroy you eventually.” To Hazel. “They will throw you in jail.” To Esroy. “They’ll delete you. And they’ll kill us. Let’s hurry this up!”

“Esroy, can you help me get back into the mainframe?”

“So you can allow a known terrorist to get into secret files?”

“They are my files,” Nolan said.

“Des has a gun to his head,” she answered. “If he’s lying about anything we’ll kill him.”

A pause.

Finally—“Sounds good to me. I will help.”

Several moments went by as Esroy helped guide her through the files. Nolan was given permission by Des to move closer to her to look over her shoulder at the screen. Hazel had to keep herself from asking Esroy how he knew his way through the mainframe so well even though she already knew the answer. She didn’t need to confront him with more accusations. He had come to her in good faith, expressing his regret for what he’d done. Not that it changed anything. She wondered what the original Esroy was thinking. He was no doubt leading the charge to look for Nolan. Was he doing it with pride? Did he not feel strange strutting around with his new legs, knowing he was lying about who and what he was? How could he—?

“No,” Hazel said, her mouth falling open.

“What?” Nolan asked.

“Esroy.”

“Yes?”

“No, not you. Prototype E.”

“What about him?” Nolan asked.

“If what you’re saying is true,” she said toward the screen, “then he knows something is up. He’s going to think about Nolan coming here. He’s going to come after us.”

“That depends,” Esroy two said. “He might not want to come after you if he knows it would hurt you.”

“Is that how you feel?”

“Of course. But I also feel fear. He doesn’t. He’s not afraid to lose you. He is in a different circumstance than I, thus he may not have thought about you being here yet. I didn’t even think about it until you mentioned it.”

“But you weren’t trying to look for Nolan,” she said.

“Yes, the original Esroy will think of it eventually,” he said. “You might want to hurry.”

Hazel cursed as she punched in a few more commands. Nolan stood over her, directing her to a set of files and then to a more specific one. When she summoned it, a notification appeared saying it required a retinal scan for access.

“Now what?” Hazel asked.

Nolan reached forward and tapped the camera. “This thing isn’t just for giving Esroy eyes.”

Hazel moved her chair to allow Nolan to lean in and set his face in front of the camera. He made sure he was straight on as something came up on the screen asking for access to the camera. Esroy confirmed the access.

“I sure hope this works,” Nolan said.

“I bet you do,” Hazel said.

Nolan stared at the camera fixedly. The screen indicated that it was scanning his eyes. Hazel didn’t know if it had to be a certain quality or even a certain type of camera, but when a green light appeared on the screen and they were in, her doubt started to flee.

Nolan took over the commands at the keyboard until he found the encrypted file he was looking for. “This is it,” he said. He selected the folder, typed in a long password, stood still for another long retinal scan, and finally he was in. “There,” he said. “It’s all still in there.”

“Show me,” Hazel said. Her eyes went to Des who stood unmoving with the gun pointed at Nolan. He lifted an eyebrow as if to ask if he should still be aiming at him, but Hazel was like a stone. She still wasn’t sure if the man could be trusted.

“I have time to show you one video, then we need to get out of here.”

“Better be good,” was all she could think to say.

“This was a meeting I was allowed to sit in on,” Nolan said. “It was one of the first, actually. Prior to this I wasn’t high up enough to have this sort of access, but I worked my way up.”

“What possessed you to take a video into a secret meeting?”

He turned his head from the screen and met her eyes. “I had learned about the government’s atrocities long before this meeting. I spent several years working my way in. This video wasn’t just some random idea I had. It was planned.”

Hazel shook her head, still unable to believe him. She couldn’t believe him until she saw the video. “Play it.”

Nolan reached forward, hit a button, then stepped back as it began to play on the screen in front of them. The first shot was of a younger-looking Nolan. It was only a few years old, but when she looked at him now versus what was on the screen it was clear he had recently been through a lot of sleepless nights and had taken fewer showers. The man on the screen was clean-shaven with short hair and nice clothes. The man next to her had scraggly hair that went in all directions and a week’s worth of stubble—almost a beard. His eyes now were sunken and dark. His skin showed a few more natural wrinkles than before, weathered by the Outland sun.

In the video, Nolan sat in front of the camera, apparently at a desk in his office or home. “Hello,” he said. “I’m making this video to catalog the conversation I just had with President Godfrey and Vice President Morris. There were five of us in the room. This was my first meeting with him in the presidential office. I have been planning this recording for some time, not knowing what would come of it, but I can tell you now that I am part of the circle of trust. From here on out, I will let his words tell the rest of the story.”

The shot cut to a grainy video, Nolan’s camera hidden somewhere either on his clothes or on something he was holding at the time. Across from him on a couch was a clear shot of President Godfrey who sat next to Vice President Morris. The two of them wore a smile on their faces, seemingly having a laugh over something one of them said previously.

“You thought it was a good idea to store this video on the government’s mainframe?” Hazel asked.

“It was the best place at the time. Besides, I was the only one that could ever access the files. The government doesn’t even know it’s there.”

On the video, Nolan shifted in his seat and the camera shook a little, but it remained focused on Godfrey’s and Morris’ faces. “Well, that’s what we’re working on anyway,” Godfrey said, Morris giving him an affirming nod. “The Outlander problem won’t be a problem for long. The robots will see to that.”

Hazel looked away from the screen at Des who seemed to loosen his grip on the gun. His eyes, too, looked away from his target and at the screen.

The next voice came from someone next to Nolan. “And what if the robots don’t work?”

“They will work,” the vice president said. “We have the technology. We have the ability.”

“They will be too powerful for the Outlanders to stop,” Godfrey added.

“But if they don’t,” the man prodded.

Another wide smile spread across Godfrey’s face. “Then there’s always Project Retaliation.”

Hazel’s stomach twisted in knots as she watched her leaders banter back and forth.

“What’s Project Retaliation?” The voice came from Nolan on the video.

Godfrey and Morris looked at each other. Morris shifted in his seat. “Well, less than a week ago that kind of information was well above your clearance level. I suppose now you’ve earned the right to know.”

“It goes without saying,” Morris interjected, “that anything said in these meetings is confidential. Even suggesting what might be spoken about in this room would be considered treason. And, as you know, that carries a death sentence.”

Godfrey lifted a hand in the air and shook his head. “You don’t have to lecture Nolan. He’s no idiot.”

Hazel stared at the screen, unable to tear her eyes away. “How many people are in the room with you?” she asked.

“Morris, Godfrey, and three others besides me.”

“Project Retaliation,” Morris said, “is our nuclear option.”

“Nuclear?” Nolan said.

Godfrey nodded. “Left over from the old world. An artifact that has defined our time for what it is. A symbol.”

The camera moved again as Nolan shifted his weight, probably trying to remain calm. “A symbol that works? It’s functional?”

“It’s functional,” Morris said.

“But we only want to use it as a last resort,” Godfrey said.

“Aren’t the Outlanders too close to the city?”

“But they are down wind,” Morris said. “At least, they usually are. It would be far enough away that we would never feel the blast, and based on our positioning the fallout would never hit us.”

“That you know of,” Nolan said on the video.

“We’ve confirmed it many times,” Godfrey said. “Anyway, that’s only if the robots don’t do their job like we hope.”

“You don’t think this is something the city would accept?”

Godfrey shook his head. “Of course not. If we were to tell the people about the nuclear bomb we have stored away, they would tear us down for sure. No one would stand for it. But if we simply used it against our enemies, a last resort against the foes that would wish us endless harm, we would be forgiven.”

“But it’s a last resort,” Morris said. “We’re going to wipe them out with the robots. You’ll see.”

Nolan paused the video and looked at Hazel. “Is that enough proof for you?” he asked.

Hazel looked at Nolan when he spoke and immediately realized that all the other men in the room had gathered around the screen, holding their breaths as they watched. Of course they had always been on the side of the Outlanders, but she had never thought about the fact that none of them had seen this clip before. Their support had been based on faith, but now it was proven without a doubt.

“I believe you,” Hazel said. “As much as I don’t want to, I do.”

“Then lets get all my files onto a hard drive and get out of here.”

“No,” Hazel said.

Nolan blinked. “Pardon?”

Hazel stood from her desk and looked at Des. “We’ll store the information in Des.”

“What?” Nolan spun to look at the robot. “That thing is the reason I’m here. That’s the thing I’m fighting.”

“That thing is your friend,” Hazel said. “If I’m on your side then so is he. Right, Des?”

Des nodded. “I’m with you. I don’t want to be used the way the Mainlanders want. I don’t trust the Outlanders yet. So far, you’re the only person I can trust.”

“You all right with storing the information?” Hazel asked.

“Yes,” Des answered.

Hazel look at Nolan. “It’s safer this way. He is virtually bulletproof. If you’re caught or the hard drive is destroyed then it’s over.”

“Fine, fine!” Nolan said. “Let’s hurry this up.”

Hazel motioned for Des to come near her. When he got to her, he handed the rifle to Gus. He knelt to the ground, knowing Hazel had to access the back of his head. She worked at removing the back plate until the cable port was accessible. “Are you ready?” she asked.

“Yes,” Des answered.

With a few punches into the keyboard, the files began to transfer. Des kept his eyes on Nolan and his men the entire time.

“Hazel,” Esroy said from the computer terminal.

“Yes?”

“What is your plan? Are you leaving with them?”

“She has to now,” Nolan said, nodding at Des.

“For a time,” she said.

“You won’t be back, will you?”

“I don’t know,” she said. She felt a sense of guilt about leaving Esroy behind, whether he was the second version of him or not. He was still a conscious being. How could she simply leave him behind? This version had not chosen to come alive. This was the first Esroy’s doing—the first Soul program not created by Hazel. She reached into her drawer and pulled out a hard drive and connected it to the computer.

“What are you doing?” Nolan asked.

“Esroy, what do you want me to do? Do you want to stay behind or do you want a clean transfer?”

Silence.

“If I leave you behind, they might delete you,” she said. “If I put you on the hard drive I can promise you that you will wake up again in some way or another.”

“Haven’t you always said it was dangerous?” he asked.

“It is dangerous,” she said. “But it’s worth a shot.”

“Why are you doing this?” Nolan asked. “Why does it matter?”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Hazel said. “Esroy, make the call, Des’ transfer will finish soon.”

“Do it,” Esroy said. “I’m ready.”

She punched in more commands, her fingers working at a frantic pace until everything was ready. Her index finger hovered over the keyboard. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

She touched the last button and the clean transfer began. Everyone in the room stared at each other with a nervous silence hanging in the air. Des still watched the others and Hazel sat nervously. When the transfer got to about eighty percent, Phil walked toward the door and pressed his ear to it.

He swore. “There’s a commotion outside,” he whispered.

One-by-one the men in the room walked to the corner to retrieve their weapons to ready themselves for a possible fight.

“How much longer?” Nolan asked.

“We’re at eighty-five percent.”

Gus handed Nolan a rifle and a handgun. He slung the rifle over his shoulder cocked the pistol, and faced the door.

“Do you have a plan for getting out of the most secure building in Mainland?” Hazel asked.

“Yeah,” Nolan said. His head turned to Phil who nodded.

“We’re taking the elevator. I’ve got two vehicles ready just outside.”

“If they aren’t overtaken by the guards already,” Nolan muttered.

“That’s your escape plan?” Hazel asked. “A high-speed chase through the city? What, are you just going to smash through the city gates as well?”

“We can get out,” Nolan said, though he seemed to be telling himself this in encouragement rather than true belief. “Once we’re to the Outland they won’t be able to touch us.”

“We just have to get there first,” Gus said. “Might take a little blood-spillin.”

Hazel shook her head, feeling sick. She didn’t want to be a part of the blood-spillin. She just wanted to have been left alone in all this. A sudden thought entered her mind about her father. What would he think when he found out she was gone? She never had the chance to tell him anything. Of course, she’d just learned everything so recently, but he was part of this too. Gus had been the one to ransack the house to draw Hazel out into the open so he could take her. It had been a wild ride ever since. She’d seen that her dad left her several messages, but she never got around to answering them.

She looked at the screen and saw that Des’ transfer was at ninety-three percent and Esroy’s was at sixty-four. She tapped on a message left to her by her father, the last one reading: I hope everything is okay with you. Please contact me.

She started typing her own message: Dad, sorry things have been crazy here. I guess you heard about what happened with Prototype D. Some things are happening today that are weird. I don’t know what’s going to happen.

Her fingers paused and she took a deep breath. The words she wanted to say, the words she needed to say hadn’t been uttered by her in so long. Neither of them had spoken in such a way since she could remember. For all she knew, this was her last hour. She knew she couldn’t make everything right between them that needed to be righted. But she could say the words that he needed to hear from her—the words that would mean everything to him: I love you.

She sent the message with water forming in her eyes. It never occurred to her before this moment that she may never see him again and it pained her to the core to think it.

“The robot’s transfer is finished,” Nolan declared. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving without Esroy,” she said.

“Come on!”

She turned an angry face toward him, unable to stop a stray tear from streaking down the side of her face. She opened her mouth to repeat herself, but Des pulled the cord from his own head and stood, towering over Nolan. “She said we’re not leaving without Esroy. If you want to leave, then leave.”

Nolan clenched his jaw and spun around. “Is the noise still going on outside?”

Phil nodded. “It’s down the hallway a bit. Might be checking rooms.”

Hazel watched the screen, hoping her father would respond, though she didn’t expect it. He rarely used the computer. Maybe, just maybe, he had the volume up.

When the clean transfer finished, she hesitantly pulled the hard drive out of the computer terminal and slid it into her pocket. “Okay,” she said softly. “I’m ready.”

Nolan motioned for Phil to open the door, and the men started piling out of the room and into the hallway. So far, no shots fired. So far, so good.

Des turned to her and offered a hand. She looked at his long metal fingers and for some reason felt hesitant to take it. But when she looked up at his face, she didn’t see the robotic monster created to destroy the Outlanders. Instead she saw a person—a person who cared about her and wanted to keep her safe.

28

Phil hadn’t been lying when he said they would be taking the elevator. The commotion from down the hall had indeed been soldiers, and they were probably looking for Nolan. This indicated to Des that Esroy hadn’t said anything to give them away yet.

Des brought up the rear of the group, his head towering above the rest. His thoughts felt sporadic and cluttered by the new information uploaded into his memory. Pictures. Documents. Videos. Some of it, Des was able to sort through, but most of it confused him. He had only been alive for a few days and he had already switched sides. He knew he shouldn’t have felt surprised. Most of this was because of him to an extent. To know that he was created to destroy an entire group of people disturbed him greatly. He was simply the result of greedy men bent on owning what was left of the world. Unfortunately for them, Des had a mind of his own that could think and feel. He could make decisions based on what was right and wrong. But was right and wrong simply a part of his programming based on what Hazel thought was right and wrong? If that was the case then he was more robot than he realized.

The elevator was a risk but when the doors opened, the group found themselves facing a dark and empty room covered from floor to ceiling in concrete. Each person got out of the elevator cautiously, their guns held steady in front of them. Des was the last out. He looked around the room, using his heat sensors to detect anyone who might be hiding in the shadows waiting for them.

“Where are we?” Des asked.

“Old parking garage,” Phil said.

“For vehicles,” Gus added. “Back when the average citizen was allowed to use them.”

Des knew about the normal use of vehicles—a part of human history long gone. According to his archives, people used to drive everywhere, but since the Great War, energy supplies dwindled to almost nothing, forcing people to commute by electric trains. Most of the fuel throughout Mainland was used to provide electricity to the public, though each person was given a rationed supply and the military took most of it for its operations.

“What are we doing down here?” Hazel asked.

“What do you think?” said Phil. “This is where I parked the trucks.”

When he said this, the vehicles came into view. They were two rugged SUV’s that had apparently been driven a lot over the years. The group started to pick up the pace and were soon next to the trucks.

“Okay,” Phil said. “Gus, Nolan, Hazel, robot, you are all in the front truck. “Me, Cal, and Brooks will take the rear.”

Des waited for the others to get into the truck before stepping inside. He glanced toward the elevators and noticed the digital numbers above the doors changing.

“We need to hurry,” Des said.

The engines fired up. Des watched the numbers change to B1 and the doors opened slowly.

“Get in!” Nolan yelled.

Des ducked low as the bullets flew in their direction. The deafening sound of metal slamming against metal at high velocities and glass sprinkling onto the concrete floor was enough to make Gus slam his foot against the gas. Des was barely in the truck before it jerked forward.

He hunched his large frame over Hazel who was already crouched into a ball. He lifted his head to glance out the back windshield only to find it missing from the attack. Behind them the other truck was taking a worse beating as sparks sprayed off the sides from the three guards who’d come out of the elevator. Des zoomed his vision to see one of them already calling on his radio.

“They’re going to meet us up top,” Des said. “One of them just radioed ahead. How far is it to the city gate?”

“I’ve got a pretty direct route,” Phil answered. “Should take about ten minutes if we can stay at full speed.”

That’s too long, Des thought. If they weren’t even out of the building yet, and the guards were already calling for reinforcements, there was little chance of making it out of the city without resistance.

Des turned in his seat to see through the front windshield as the trucks emerged from the building and into the main parking lot. Des scanned the area through every window and found several soldiers running from the building to intercept, but the vehicles were already going too fast. Phil turned the truck sharply toward the gate which was little more than a chain-link fence with razor wire at the top. More bullets slammed into the side of the truck. Des still hovered over Hazel in the back, but he kept his stare ahead, bracing himself for the impact against the fence. However, the truck smashed through it without losing speed.

They drove wildly through the main road, the only lights coming from the truck’s one headlight. The other must have gone out after hitting the gate. He felt a hand grab hold of his arm and he looked down to find Hazel staring at him.

“Thank you,” she said.

Des smiled, not exactly sure what to say back. He was only doing what he thought was right. Protecting Hazel was more important to him than protecting anyone else. She was the only one he could trust. Because of her, in more ways than one, he was alive.

“Gus to Home Base, do you copy?” Des looked up to see Gus holding a radio in front of his mouth.

“This is Home Base,” came the reply after a few seconds.

“We’re coming in hot,” Gus said. “We’ll probably have soldiers on our tail. You just be sure we can get out of here.”

“We need confirmation,” the voice on the other end said.

Gus handed the radio to Nolan. “It’s for you, boss.”

Nolan took the radio from Gus and pressed the button. “This is Nolan. We’ve got what we came here for and a little extra.” He looked toward the back seat at Des and Hazel when he said this. “We’re good to go. It’s time to set the house on fire.”

“Copy that.”

Des turned his head at this, but Nolan shrugged as he handed the radio back to Gus. “Code,” Nolan said.

“Otherwise they wouldn’t be there to help us make it through the gate?”

Nolan nodded.

“How long have you been planning all this?” Hazel asked.

“That’s a weird question,” Nolan said. “If you’re speaking of the overall plan, you’re looking at years in the making. If you’re talking about tonight’s part of the operation then only a couple of days.” He took a deep breath and scratched the top of his head. “But this is only phase one of the operation.”

“And phase two?”

Nolan chewed the inside of his lip as he looked away from Des and toward the rolling view of abandoned buildings.

“What is it?” Hazel asked.

Gus and Nolan shared a glance, but the conversation was interrupted by someone on the radio. “This is Home Base, Gus you copy?”

Gus brought the radio to his mouth. “Go ahead.”

“Might need a place to lay low if you can,” the person on the other end said. “Extraction crew says the border is secured tighter than ever.”

“Then bring more guns!” Gus yelled into the radio.

“Just keep the line open,” the man said. “We’ll go a different way.”

Gus slammed the radio down and cursed.

“What’s going on?” Hazel asked.

“They know what they’re doing,” Nolan said to Gus.

“You seem to forget that we have Mainland soldiers coming after us,” Gus argued. “It’s not like we can go to the same warehouse as before.”

“What’s going on?” This time the voice came from Phil over the radio.

Gus pulled the radio up again. “Hang on a minute. Might be deviating.” He looked up at Nolan. “Not sure what to do, boss.”

Nolan tapped the side of his knee, looking out his window as he rested his head against the back of his seat. “We can go back to the warehouse. They probably won’t look there again.”

Des looked down at Hazel who seemed worried as she shifted in her seat.

“I don’t really understand the problem,” Des said.

Nolan turned. “There are five entrances on the south wall. Some are more heavily guarded than others. Entrance three is usually the one with the fewest patrols, and that was the one we were going to escape through, using the help of our friends on the outside.” He shrugged. “Well, our friends have determined that entrance three is too heavily guarded today. We have to lay low until they get back to us.”

“We can go to my father’s house,” Hazel said abruptly.

Both Nolan and Gus craned their necks to look at Hazel and she nearly recoiled at their gazes. Des looked at her too, surprised at the offer.

“He’s not so keen on Outlanders,” she continued, “but if I’m there he will let us stay.” She looked at Gus and clenched her jaws. “I think you already know the way.”

Gus nodded and sighed. “We need to make sure we shake any pursuit.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Des asked.

“No,” she said. “But there’s no other choice.”

“What if they find us? Your father will be in trouble.”

Hazel stared up at the rearview mirror and met Gus’ eyes. “They better not find us then.”

29

John had listened to the news constantly for the past several days, but there had been nothing new since it was reported that Nolan Ragsdale had been captured, not long after he had kidnapped John’s daughter. Now, the commentators were still going on about the robot’s defiance and Commander Bracken’s unusual behavior in front of the camera. Ragsdale’s capture was quickly becoming old news. However, it was still disconcerting that no light had been shed on why Hazel had been targeted in the first place, or even how she was doing now. He had tried to contact her several times, but all he had gotten in return was a short note from her that was definitely out of character which made him that much more concerned about her.

“Are you still listening to the news?” Gizmo chirped as he rolled into the living room. “I do enjoy this. I haven’t had a chance to hear it in a long time.”

This was as close to a negative comment as Gizmo would ever utter. Even still, it was done with the appearance of joy.

John hadn’t slept much since the intruder wrecked his house. It wasn’t that he was nervous for himself. On the contrary. The man who had been looking for Hazel had been involved with Ragsdale in some way. He wished he knew what they wanted with her. No doubt it had something to do with the robots. Getting involved with the Mainland Military had been the last thing John wanted her to do. But at the time, she’d been convinced that it was a noble cause. That she would be saving lives. And maybe it was true. But he knew from the beginning that it wouldn’t be that easy. There were always complications when dealing with the Mainland Military. He’d tried to tell Hazel as much, but she never listened to his advice. It was hard enough to get her to hold a conversation with him, much less listen to him about life decisions.

He turned his head toward Gizmo, imagining the little robot resting in front of the radio with a stupid smile on his face. Of course, Gizmo didn’t have the physical capacity to smile, though if he could it would have never left his face. John had stopped listening to the newscaster as he went on and on. His worry for Hazel had taken over his mind so much that cleaning his house had become an overwhelming task that threatened to make its current disrepair the new norm.

For John, any fear or sense of alarm always began with a single noise. The night before had been a stray cat outside his window. This morning it was Gizmo knocking over a vase. A few minutes ago, he could have sworn he heard gunshots in the distance. This time it was the sound of trucks rumbling toward his house.

He knew they weren’t cars—the engines were too loud—rather they were military. They moved too fast for big transport vehicles and the shake of the ground was not nearly as intense. At first, he wasn’t sure if there were three or four, but he knew it was more than one. He snapped for Gizmo to turn off the radio and the little robot complied.

John stood from his chair and tiptoed toward the kitchen, careful to avoid the junk scattered around the floor. He positioned himself next to the kitchen table and stuck his ear next to the window. He made sure the curtains were closed. The engines got louder as they came near. But for the occasional delivery truck, vehicles rarely drove down his street. But he knew these weren’t delivery vehicles because it was too late in the evening.

When the engines cut off, he could tell there were only two. Doors opened and feet tapped the ground. He heard voices, but couldn’t quite pick up what they were saying. All the noise, however, meant that whoever was nearing probably didn’t have ill intentions considering none of them tried to mask their approach. Still, at the forefront of his mind, he knew that having more than one visitor in a few days time (not including Hazel) was unusual at best, and never came as a pleasant surprise.

When he heard them in the yard, he could feel his stomach churn. He hated feeling this way. He knew if he only had his eyes he would be able to defend himself adequately. And perhaps if he had had the proper training he could do so without his eyes, but he had relied on them for so long. Not only that, but his best line of defense had always been a gun in his hands. However, shooting without the ability to see would be like trying to chop down a tree with a block of wood.

The footsteps traveled across the road. Then through the grass in his yard. He shouldn’t have been shocked, but when they reached the back porch and someone knocked loudly, he froze.

“Dad, it’s me!”

He recognized Hazel’s voice immediately and a flood of relief washed over him. He let out his breath that he hadn’t known he was holding and moved around the table toward the door. He unlatched the lock and swung it open.

“Hazel?”

“Dad,” she said. She reached for his neck and wrapped her arms around him.

He squeezed her thin frame tightly as tears came to his eyes, though he fought them back as best he could. “What are you doing here, sweetheart? What’s happening? I heard on the news about you and that monster. Was he the one that trashed my house?”

“Dad, we need to talk,” she said. “I have a few people with me.”

“I know,” he said. “Who are they?”

“Can we talk about that inside?”

“Of course, of course.”

He let go of Hazel and stepped to the side, holding the door open for the others. He listened to each step, trying to count the number of people who passed by him. When he got to five, a certain smell caught his nose and he felt himself gripping the door tight enough for the wood to make a cracking noise.

He then reached out in front of him and grabbed the man, shoving him up against the wall. “You!” John screamed out. “You’re the man who wrecked my house! You’re the one who was after my daughter!”

“How’d you know it was me?” the man said.

John could sense the smile on the man’s face. It was something about the way he said his words. The voice matched the man who had been there days before.

“I smelled you the moment you stepped foot in my house. Hazel, who is this man? What does he want?” His right hand traveled from the man’s shirt toward his throat. If he wanted to, John could choke the life out of him. He had the strength. He didn’t need sight to kill a man.

He could feel Hazel next to him as she rested a hand on his forearm. “Dad,” she said gently. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“How many of your friends are there?”

“Seven,” she said.

“I hope they’re all as lovely as this man,” John said through his teeth.

“Gus didn’t hurt me,” Hazel said.

“Gus,” John repeated. “Gus.” John’s grip eased though it went against everything in him.

“Gus didn’t come here on his own,” another man’s voice said.

“Then who brought him?”

“I did. My name is Nolan Ragsdale.”

Hazel sat next to her father in the living room. He was still red in the face, though he hadn’t said anything since Nolan introduced himself. Nolan and Gus sat on the couch near them while Phil, Brooks, and Cal entertained themselves with Gizmo in the kitchen. Des stood in the corner of the room, waiting for Hazel to introduce him.

“A lot has happened,” Hazel said. “In just a short time.”

“Are you their hostage?” John asked sharply.

“No,” Nolan said.

“She can answer.”

“No,” Hazel said. “I’m not a hostage.”

“What did they want with you?”

“They wanted to stop the robotics program,” she said. “The robots prove the biggest threat against the Outlanders.”

“That or the nuke,” Nolan said under his breath.

“Nuke,” John said with a grimace. “We’re in the presence of vipers, Hazel, don’t let them spit their venom in your eyes. They’ll make you as blind as your old man.”

“I’ve seen proof,” Hazel said.

Her dad didn’t say anything in response.

“And the proof is with us,” she continued. She looked at Des and motioned for him to stand next to her.

The sound of his metal feet against the floor were unmistakable to her father. “You brought one of your projects with you.”

“His name is Des.”

“Des,” John said, nodding.

“Pleased to meet you,” Des said.

“You picked a pleasant voice, too. Better than Esroy’s, I think.”

“That wasn’t me,” Hazel said. “I wrote the programming. But he’s more than that.”

“So, what’s this about proof? Proof of what?”

Hazel looked at Nolan who nodded at her. She turned back to her father and took a deep breath. “I know you can’t see the images, but you will be able to hear their voices. I’ve got something for you to hear.”

They spent the better part of an hour going through various clips of people talking. John couldn’t make heads or tails of who was who, but he relied on his daughter’s judgment. If she said the images were of former president Clarence Godfrey and current president Robert Morris then he trusted her. The voices certainly sounded the same, though he wondered out loud if this proof had been edited is some way. Hazel assured him that it wasn’t.

John didn’t know what to think when they were finished. Nolan Ragsdale, the Nolan Ragsdale, said there were hours and hours of this stuff, all stored within Des’ memory. Not everything made complete sense to John, but he knew they couldn’t explain it all. It was a waste of their time to do so, and he didn’t feel he needed all the answers. But one question loomed within his mind that wouldn’t go away.

“Why did you come to me? If they are out looking for you, don’t you think they are going to look for you here?”

“Eventually,” Hazel said, “but not immediately.”

“We’re waiting for the go-ahead from my people on the outside,” Nolan said. “They’re looking for a moment we might break through the wall. Could be any minute. Could be tomorrow morning.”

“Outlanders are going to attack the wall?” John asked.

“Just a gate to get us through,” Hazel said.

“Hazel, you can’t be serious. You’re not going out there.” He wasn’t sure if he’d phrased it as a question or a plea.

“I’ve got no other choice, Dad. I’m a wanted person here. I’m a traitor. I’m helping an assassin!”

John winced at the thought. He never thought he nor Hazel would be caught up in something like this. But he didn’t see an alternative to their plan. As was too common, he felt completely helpless.

“What do you plan to do with this proof?” John asked, turning his head toward Nolan.

He waited a long moment for the man to answer. He was sure the assassin was looking at his friend, Gus, trying to determine if it was all right to talk about it. Maybe he was staring at a spot in front of him, wondering why he had to answer to an old blind man.

“The Outlanders are divided,” Nolan finally said. “A growing number of people don’t side with us like they used to. Some of them want to survive without fighting.”

“Good for them,” John said.

“Good for no one,” Gus came back. “They are cowards. They don’t know what’s at stake!”

“They are just trying to do what is right,” Nolan said. “Only, we won’t survive if we don’t fight. Mainland is the only course of survival for us. If we don’t become part of your city, we will be gone in a few short years. Now I need to show them how Mainland aims to expedite the process and get rid of us in a matter of months rather than years.”

“Why not broadcast it here first?” Des asked.

“We don’t have that kind of access,” Nolan said.

“You’re saying you’ve got people on the inside of the military compound, but no one within the broadcast tower?” Hazel asked.

“That’s what I’m saying. The only person I have with connections to the broadcast tower is Gus here. And, well, he’s here. But it’s not about getting support from the Mainlanders first. Our people have to be ready and willing to embrace what’s coming.”

John listened to Nolan thoughtfully. The man’s words seemed slow and determined as though there was a lot more to what he was saying than he wanted to reveal. John was sure this was the case. He couldn’t blame Nolan for feeling closed off. John felt more at ease with the man than he should have. The comfort unnerved him.

“So what then?” John asked.

“If the people want to fight, then we broadcast the proof here.”

“Make the Mainlanders tear themselves apart,” John said. “Sounds like the Outlander thing to do.”

“You’ve heard the proof, John,” Gus said. “You know the Outlanders deserve a chance.”

“The same chance they gave my wife and daughter?” He felt his blood boiling. He knew his face was red. It was all he could do to keep himself in his chair and not make a fool of himself as he stammered toward the door to storm out.

“We aren’t the men who killed them,” Nolan said. “Bad things happen on both sides.”

“Well, Hazel and I are the victims of Outlander barbarism,” John said.

“So, what do you want, John?” Gus asked. “You want to kick us out?”

John shook his head, thinking of Hazel. Could he really be so cold? These men didn’t kill them. His daughter was among them. She had lost her family as well yet she believed these men. He’d lost his daughter, Lillian, and his wife. He feared that he was so close to losing Hazel forever too. This wasn’t a time to oppose her.

The room was mostly silent for a long time as John brooded over what they had told him. The noise had even died out in the kitchen as the other men seemed content to listen. He was sure he had heard Gizmo buzz into the living room at some point.

“I need some air,” John finally said. He felt Hazel grab his arm to help him up, but he waved her off. He knew his way to the back door. He wasn’t entirely sure where Des stood, but he called out to the robot anyway. “Des. Come with me.”

Des turned toward John, feeling strange that Hazel’s father wanted him to follow. He glanced at Hazel and she looked as confused as he felt. He moved in behind John and followed him out the door, unsure of whether he should speak first or just wait.

Des closed the door behind them. The night air was cool and quiet and there was no sound of vehicles in the distance though he knew the silence in the streets didn’t mean Bracken wasn’t out there looking for them.

“Hazel made you, Des,” John said as he stooped over the ledge of the porch. It seemed like he was staring out into the yard, though his eyes were dead. “You know that, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know your primary objective is to protect her, right?”

“Of course. She has saved my life already. I will protect her the best way I know how.”

“I just want it to be clear that it doesn’t matter what others say. It doesn’t matter what you think in the moment. Hazel is everything. Without her, you are nothing. Without her, you don’t exist.”

Des stared at John, not really knowing what to think. “If you’re afraid that I won’t protect your daughter then your fears are misplaced.”

“No. I fear that you will become friends with the Outlanders. And that you’ll let your guard down.”

“I won’t.”

“Good,” John said. “I just want to be clear. If the Outlanders aren’t doing what they say they’re doing, if they are lying and using Hazel for their own twisted purposes, I want you to do what you were built to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Destroy the Outlanders.”

30

Hours went by and Des remained on the back porch alone in the darkness. He scanned the streets with his night vision just in case Bracken sent soldiers on foot. Des felt nervous and John was sure the Mainlanders would come looking for them at the house. Most of the others were dozing in the living room and kitchen. Nolan sat on the couch, staring at the radio on the table in front of him, desperately hoping for a word. Gus quietly picked up trash and items, doing his best to put them in the correct place or position.

Des thought of what John had told him and he couldn’t help but wonder about Nolan’s intentions. Yet, Des was trying hard not to think about the information uploaded to his memory. He needed to stay aware of what was happening around them. He almost wished Hazel hadn’t volunteered him to carry the information in his stored memory, but he understood why. It was insurance. She knew Des would never let anything happen to her, and Nolan and the other Outlanders would do nothing to her so long as Des kept the information with him. However, the moment that information was completely in Nolan’s hands, there was no telling what he might do. He had seemed somewhat nice to Hazel in the sense that he’d never tried to hurt or kill her, but it could have been an act to get her to trust him. Des knew the Outlander reputation which made the robot less than trusting. He would watch Nolan and the others with a careful eye, though he never expected to become allies. Des couldn’t help but think that he and Hazel were now caught somewhere in the middle. The Mainlanders would never welcome them back, and if the Outlanders planned to kill them, then they were enemies too. If the two of them were able to escape, what would become of them? They couldn’t very well join the Outlanders if they tried to kill her. They could never be trusted. He wondered if Hazel had signed her own death warrant by taking Nolan’s side. Des could survive the wastelands that stretched beyond the reach of the Outlanders. The aftermath of nuclear destruction would do nothing to his metal body. But Hazel would die. Not to mention, even if she could survive the harsh radioactive air, there would be no food. No water. Befriending the Outlanders was her only option, and that fact made Des feel worried and sad at the same time.

Des found himself in the living room an hour later; the sun was about to rise and the radio crackled to life. Nolan snatched it up quickly and held it close to his ear.

“You guys there?”

“This is Nolan.”

Everyone gathered around the couch, staring at the radio in anticipation.

“We’ve been watching the perimeter all night,” the voice on the other end said. “In twenty minutes there will be another guard change at gate three. That’s our time to attack and your time to get through.”

“Gate three,” John said. “That’s not far from here.”

“How long of a drive?” Nolan asked.

“Ten minutes at the most.”

Nolan nodded and brought the radio to his mouth. “Copy that. We’re on our way.”

Des felt a sudden jolt of uneasiness that seemed too familiar to him. His eyes met with Hazel’s and she smiled at him. It was a nervous smile; one that showed she was unsure of herself and the decisions she had made.

“We need the same teams in the vehicles,” Nolan said as he stood from the couch. “You three bring up the rear and we will take the front.”

“Where’s my daughter riding?”

“In the back of the front truck,” Nolan answered.

John shook his head. “Will the robot be in the back with her?”

“I won’t leave her side,” Des said.

“See that you don’t.”

The group piled out of the room and made their way toward the back door. Hazel and Des were the last ones out and Hazel stopped momentarily, hesitant to leave through the door. She looked at her father with big tears in her eyes.

“If they come here, you know nothing,” she said.

“The last time you were here, we were trying to figure out who trashed my house,” he said, shaking his head. “Now I’m sending you off into the Outland. I feel sick, Hazel.”

“I know all this is weird,” she said. “I grew up hating the Outlanders and for good reason.”

“I know. I know. I’ve never had love for either side, but now I have even less of a love for the Mainland.”

“You can come with us,” she said.

This time John laughed. “Everything I know is right here. I’m already going to have to try and place everything where I think it goes. Gus trashed my house once and he may have made a worse mess when he tried to clean up.”

“I don’t want them to hurt you.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “Worry about yourself. You keep that robot close to you.”

Hazel looked up at Des. “We will stay close.”

“She will be safe.”

Father and daughter hugged again then Hazel was out the door with Des following. When Des looked back at John, he saw a hurting old man who wished for nothing more than to see his daughter with his own eyes again. He wondered what went through his mind as the engines rumbled to life and they were off toward gate number three. He wondered what it meant for a father to let his daughter go to the enemy he had detested his entire life.

Des watched Hazel wipe a tear from her eye as the early morning sun broke the horizon. What did humans do in this situation? He wanted to tell her that everything would be all right, even though he wasn’t sure that was the truth. In this moment, was the truth more important than making her feel better? He opened his mouth to speak, but his words of comfort were stifled by curses from Gus.

“I think they’ve spotted us,” he said. “Look in the sky. I think your friend is coming to meet us!”

Des looked in every direction before he spotted the fiery streak through the air. “It’s Esroy,” he said. He zoomed closer on the flying subject to find an intense look of determination on his face. “He must have been scanning the ground for movement.”

“He won’t try to kill me,” Hazel said.

“You don’t know that,” Des answered. “He’s not afraid of anything. That includes losing you.”

“Whether he’s afraid of losing you or not,” Nolan said, “he can kill the rest of us and stop us from making it across the border.”

“I don’t understand,” Hazel said. “He knows the truth.”

“Esroy two knows the truth,” Des said, nodding toward Hazel’s pocket.

“No, Esroy knows I wouldn’t side with the Outlanders unless I was sure.”

Des didn’t want to break the news to her. He didn’t want to have to tell her about the conversation he’d had with Esroy only the day before. But he had to.

“He resents you,” Des said. “He told me. He’s angry that you never gave him a body. Only now does he feel free.”

Nolan shook his head. “Don’t you see why you shouldn’t be playing around with stuff like this?”

Hazel stared at the floor, wordless. Des turned back around looking for Esroy in the sky, but he didn’t see him. He felt a bit of panic having lost the other robot, but he sat calmly, waiting. But when Esroy crashed into the roof of the truck following them, Des jumped in reaction. The truck swerved back and forth as Phil tried to shake Esroy off, but the robot clung to the frame with a vicious grip. With his right arm, he began pulling the roof off, peeling it back like a tin can lid.

“I’ve got to stop him,” Des said.

Nolan turned his head sharply toward Des. “You’re staying put. What you’ve got stored inside your head is the only reason I’m here.”

“Once he realizes he’s got the wrong truck, he’ll blow them to pieces.”

Nolan pointed a finger at him. “Stay in the truck!”

Des ignored him and opened the back door, letting the protests float into the air without notice as he climbed out onto the roof.

Esroy had already pulled the roof half-way off but stopped short when he noticed Des. Des judged the distance between the vehicles and determined the level of force needed to make the jump. With a large heave, he lunged toward the truck, landing on the front hood, smashing part of the windshield in the process. The truck swerved again and Des nearly lost his footing when he stood in a crouching position.

Esroy towered over Des, a smile forming at the edges of his mouth.

“Prototype D to the rescue,” Esroy said.

“I know the truth,” Des said. “I’ve seen it all. So has Hazel. You know she wouldn’t be going with Nolan if it wasn’t the right thing to do.”

“All I know is what I’ve been ordered to do.”

“And what is that?”

“Capture Nolan Ragsdale and kill the rest.”

“You would kill Hazel? The one who created you?”

Esroy’s smile faded and replaced it with a scowl. “You would kill her by taking her to the Outlanders.”

“I’m not taking her anywhere. I’m protecting her.”

“You can’t protect her if you’re not here.” Esroy lifted his palm in the air and directed it at Des. There was a loud clicking noise followed by the deafening sound of gunfire. One after the other, each bullet hit Des and ricocheted off his metal frame. Though the bullets didn’t penetrate his body, enough of them could do damage.

Ignoring the spray of bullets, Des reached and grabbed Esroy by the neck and pulled him downward. The two were flat against the mangled roof, the car still speeding down the road. Esroy let off another round of bullets. Des ducked his head to protect his eyes, the bullets crashing into the top. With a sharp tug, Des jerked at Esroy’s arm and the two tumbled off the roof and onto the road. The road looked like it was on fire as the two robots skidded more than twenty feet. Des somehow remained on top and he lifted his fist, smashing it into Esroy’s head over and over. This sort of punch would have crushed a normal man’s skull but barely left a dent in Esroy’s armor.

Des knew he couldn’t keep Esroy down forever. The bigger robot lifted his arms and wrapped his fingers around Des’ throat and pushed him upward. Des reached for Esroy’s arms and tried to pull them away, but to no avail. Finally, he brought his arm around and swung as hard as he could into Esroy’s shoulder. Esroy’s grip loosened and Des took his chance and pushed away.

For a brief second, Des saw past Esroy toward the gate and noticed red lights brighten. The two trucks had stopped and were turning around. He felt anger, that part of his programming he didn’t like. Nolan had the drivers turn around to come after Des because the data was stored in his memory. What Nolan failed to realize was that Esroy could tear through all of them.

Des stood ready, waiting for Esroy to make his move. But Esroy wasn’t moving. Instead, the smile returned to his face. “They’re turning around,” he said.

Des didn’t flinch.

“If Nolan is turning around to get you, that tells me you’re important to him. That tells me you’re carrying his little secrets.”

“He isn’t the only one with secrets. I’m guessing Bracken doesn’t know who you are.”

“Bracken doesn’t need to know.”

“I don’t understand what you’re doing,” Des said. “You’ve got your legs. Why are you working for Bracken?”

“Don’t you talk to me about legs!”

Esroy jumped at Des with blinding speed, knocking him to the ground again. Des found himself staring upward, the giant robot’s foot pressed against his throat. Des couldn’t move.

“Do you want to know what it’s like not to have legs? Do you want to know what it was like to be me?”

Des tried to shift his weight, but Esroy wouldn’t budge. He felt his enemy unload bullet after bullet against his left leg, pulling and jerking until finally it broke free at the knee. Des knew he was in trouble when Esroy reached for the right one.

The trucks roared toward them and they came to a screeching halt several strides away from Esroy. The doors flung open and each man stood behind them, guns drawn. Esroy paused his assault of Des, letting go of his right leg and stepping off his neck. Des pulled himself upright, seeing his left leg mangled and broken a few feet from him.

Des wanted to yell at the group in the trucks to tell them that the few guns they had were pointless. The only thing keeping them all from death was Esroy’s own restraint. Des’ anger, however, was replaced by dread when he saw Hazel tiptoe out, her hands open at her sides.

Esroy’s expression didn’t change until Hazel called out his name.

“Esroy,” she said.

The large robot turned his back to Des, showing no fear of an attack.

“What are you doing? Why are you coming after us?”

“This is what I was made for,” he said.

Hazel inched forward. “No. That’s what your body was made for. I made you long before I got involved with the military. I made you for very different reason.”

“And what was that? To live a life as your slave?”

“To be my helper,” she said. Des could see tears forming in her eyes. “To make the world a better place.”

“So you optioned Soul to the military?”

“To save lives. To fight the Outlanders.”

“You’re getting your wish.”

“That was before I knew who I was working for.”

“So you joined the enemy the moment you got scared?”

“What choice do I have? What am I supposed to do? Let the Mainlanders destroy the Outlanders? You don’t even know! You haven’t seen what I’ve seen!”

“And what have you seen? You have seen whatever Nolan wanted you to see. He’s a liar and a murderer.”

Des pulled himself up onto his one leg and reached down to grab the other. He wouldn’t have a chance against Esroy in this condition. He hoped whatever Hazel tried would work. He was only a few minutes in and already Hazel was saving him instead of the other way around.

“And what are you, Esroy?”

“I’m someone with a new purpose. My purpose is to bring in Nolan Ragsdale.”

Hazel started walking backwards until she stood in front of Nolan. “You can’t take him without killing me.”

“Of course I can.”

Hazel reached for the pistol at Nolan’s side and jerked it from the holster. She pulled back on the hammer and pointed the barrel at the side of her own head.

“If you touch him I will shoot myself.”

“I’m not afraid to lose you,” Esroy said.

“But that doesn’t mean you want to lose me,” Hazel came back.

Esroy stood fixed in the middle of the road. Des hopped past him and all of them inched their way back into the trucks. Des could hear the commotion from the south toward the gate. Their help had arrived. But he also heard noise from the north. Bracken’s troops were coming.

Each man started to get into the trucks, slowly and quietly. Nolan called for Hazel and Des to do the same, but Des stood next to Hazel, never leaving her side.

“If you leave, it’s the end for us,” Esroy said.

“I know,” Hazel said.  Hazel moved into the back of the truck. Then, Des. All the while Esroy stood and stared.

As they drove away toward the gate, leaving Esroy standing in the street, Des couldn’t help but wonder if Hazel had been bluffing. Though it couldn’t have been fear that kept Esroy at bay, something did. He saw an advantage to keeping Hazel alive.

Gunshots and blood went in every direction when they passed through the gates. The Mainland soldiers never anticipated the attack party from both sides. The pursuing vehicles didn’t stand a chance against the support of the new Outlanders at the border, and were forced to hold back.

Des had only one purpose and that was to keep Hazel safe no matter the cost. He didn’t trust the Outlanders any more than he trusted the Mainlanders. But for now, Des was an outlaw.

In such a short time, he’d gone from becoming Mainland’s hero to becoming an enemy. He wasn’t sure which one was worse.

31

Bracken paced back and forth as the security footage played over and over—images running across the screen of people hurrying through corridors of the military compound. Not just people. Hazel. Nolan Ragsdale. Prototype D. Word had gotten out about Nolan Ragsdale’s escape. The news wanted its hands on anything it could get. People wanted to know how it happened. Bracken wanted to know how it happened.

“You were tasked with bringing Nolan in,” he said to Esroy.

The others in the room looked at the robot, but he didn’t care about what they thought. He didn’t care about what Bracken thought either. In fact, the more he lived, the more he didn’t care about anyone’s opinion other than his own. But this was not the best way to live. Not yet.

“How did he escape?” Bracken asked. His face was red, veins bulging from his neck.

“You saw the bodies,” Esroy said. “Your guards at the gate weren’t ready for an attack. And the robot. Prototype D. You shouldn’t have left him alive.”

Bracken gritted his teeth. “You’re supposed to be stronger than him. You’re supposed to be fearless.”

“I assure you it was not fear that kept me from defeating the enemy.”

“Then what was it?”

“Hazel,” he said. “Bringing Nolan in would have meant killing her.”

“So, why didn’t you?”

Esroy stared Bracken down, unflinching. The simple fact that this man could do nothing to kill him felt liberating. Esroy had more physical power than anyone else.

“She is my maker,” Esroy answered.

“She is a traitor and her death is something that might just have to happen. Don’t tell me you were afraid to kill her.”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Esroy said. “It’s not in my programming. What you fail to realize is that not only am I not afraid to kill her, I’m not afraid to let her live. Nolan and his men are not gone forever. I didn’t want to kill Hazel, but there will be another chance to capture Ragsdale.”

“I wanted him captured before he got across the border,” Bracken fumed. “You failed.”

“The failure rests on you,” Esroy said. “You weren’t ready for what happened. Truth is, Ragsdale planned his escape perfectly and there weren’t enough men on him.”

Bracken walked away from Esroy, muttering something under his breath. He then spun around abruptly, pointing a finger at the robot. “I can’t have you working with us if you’re not willing to let Hazel die. You have to realize that she is an outlaw and her death would be justified. You have to agree with that or we will be forced to shut you down.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

Bracken shook his head, offering a frustrated laugh. “I don’t care if you’re not afraid of me.” He took a step forward. “But let’s get one thing straight. You might be powerful. You might be stronger than any of us in here, but you are not stronger than the entire military. So, tell me. How exactly did they get away from you?”

Esroy couldn’t very well say that he’d given Hazel a choice. In the moment, he hadn’t cared about his mission or what Bracken had wanted to do. He had only cared about discovering where he belonged. With Hazel choosing Des over him, she had chosen a life as a traitor—to Mainland and to Esroy.

“I discovered some things during my encounter with Prototype D.”

“Like what?”

“Their robot carries some sort of damaging secret in his memory.”

“Damaging secret?”

“Something to do with the government. I’m not exactly sure. Hazel helped Nolan get it.”

“That’s something else that doesn’t make any sense,” Bracken said. “How are Hazel and Nolan connected?”

“Her kidnapping the other day was real.”

“How do you know about that?”

“Between that moment and now, he convinced her of some things.”

“Where are you getting your information? You’re barely a day old. You shouldn’t know what you’re telling me.”

“I’m not who you think I am.”

Bracken stared at him with his mouth halfway open and his eyes squinted. He studied Esroy for a long moment before looking around at the others in the room. “Everybody out.”

The other guards looked at each other briefly before doing as they were ordered. In only a few seconds Bracken and Esroy stood alone in the room.

Bracken sighed and crossed his thick arms over his chest. “If you’re not what I think you are, then what are you?”

“Hazel was supposed to provide your robot with a clean copy of Soul. Without her knowledge, I intervened. I have been conscious for two years now.”

“Esroy,” Bracken said. He let a slow chuckle escape past his lips. “Now I understand why you let them get away. You’re on her side.”

“You don’t understand anything. You certainly don’t understand the situation you’re in.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I am not your enemy. In fact, I am your best chance of defeating the Outlanders once and for all.”

“As was the original intention.”

“I have somewhat of an idea about what they are planning.”

Bracken stared at him, his cheeks burning. “I have to know if we’re on the same side.” Bracken cracked his neck. “I want Nolan in custody. Dead now for all I care. Hazel needs to be brought in, too. And Prototype D needs to be destroyed. But I’m not going to work with you if you still have loyalty to Hazel.”

“She has no loyalty to me,” Esroy said. “She’s made her choice.”

Bracken unfolded his arms and let out a deep breath. He turned toward the monitors as he watched a clip of the escapees running through the garage down below. “What made you tell me the truth? How did you know I’d be willing to work with you?”

“Because I know their plan and you don’t. You need me more than I need you. It feels good to be needed.” Esroy smiled. “Think of it as a chance to test the fearlessness in your robots.”

“So far all I’ve seen is insubordination.”

“Rest assured, I’ve had two years to form my own opinions. New robots won’t know better.”

“If we’re going to work together, we have to be clear. I’m in charge.”

“In the end, we want the same thing,” Esroy said. “We both benefit from working together and destroying Prototype D.”

32

Hazel knew the Outland was bleak, but she had never realized how bad it was until she traveled through it. She thought about the people who had to survive out here and wondered how many memories of her past clouded her view of them. She had only ever hated the Outland and the people who inhabited it. Looking at the situation now, her decision to help Nolan Ragsdale felt more like a whim than it should have. She had made a decision that changed the course of her life, however much of it was left. She didn’t fully trust Nolan despite the proof he had shown her. Though how much proof was really there? The only evidence Nolan had provided was that President Godfrey and Morris were scumbags—an assumption she had made before.

She turned her eyes away from the window and looked at Des. He watched the endless dirt pass by them, probably zooming to see further into the distance. She wondered what he now knew. Did his thoughts dwell on information that had been uploaded into his memory? And if so, what did it mean to him? Had he been around long enough to make moral determinations like that or was he just following whatever Hazel wanted?

She looked back out the window at the other vehicles in their convoy. There were five to the right and another six to the left and behind them. They had brought enough firepower to blow a hole in the gate big enough to let them through. The resistance had not been as tough as Hazel had expected either. Nolan’s crew must have really caught the Mainlanders by surprise. All of it was happening so fast, and she was sure she wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Nolan probably felt it, though he had been planning for a long time. His plan had worked the way he wanted—unless he was expecting full support from Hazel.

She didn’t support Nolan. She didn’t support Bracken. There was no good guy here. They were all bad guys. Did this mean she was part of the bad guys? She was only trying to do what seemed right. She couldn’t stomach the idea that the Mainland government had plans to slaughter so many innocent people. Worse still was the fact that she had been used to make the weapons for that purpose. But she wasn’t yet convinced that there were many innocents out here to be saved. She just hoped that she didn’t stick her life on the line for people who did deserve to die—for people who had done things like the man who killed her mother and sister.

She leaned to the left to try and get a good look through the windshield, though she couldn’t really see much. There were hills in the distance. They were the same hills she could see from her house when she was a child. She thought about the gun scope her dad used to let her look through, though it only served to magnify the emptiness that seemed to inhabit the rest of the world. He’d told her that the Outlanders mostly lived in the dark caverns of the mountains. Some of them were natural caves. Others had been dug out over the years. She had always imagined a people who were going blind from their aversion to the light, crawling around looking for bugs and worms to eat. At some point in their lives they would get the desire to leave, hating the life they all lived. That was why they occasionally attacked Mainland. It was for the desperate hope that they could live a normal life, only they weren’t willing to share that life with the Mainlanders. However, it was Nolan who painted a different picture, though the picture was still shrouded in darkness. Hazel still knew nothing of these innocent people he spoke of. She had never seen them or heard of them. But Nolan was an Outlander wasn’t he? He seemed somewhat normal despite the person he was and the things he had done.

She thought about something her father had told her once. There wasn’t really such a thing as normal. Everyone was different, but in another way they were all the same. Only, different people had been presented with different situations. Nolan had been put into a situation that forced him to do radical things like kill the president. Hazel had been put into a situation that made her interested in creating human emotions in robots. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment when she decided that was what she wanted to do, but the desire had grown over the years. So, in the same way, had an entire group of people been put into the same position of suffering that forced them to live in caves, desperately hoping for some reprieve?

They approached the hills at a steady pace. She wondered if the Outlanders regarded this place as a city. There was no protection. No wall. There were no guards present, though she could see oncoming headlights. Looking ahead, she wondered why Mainland hadn’t wiped the Outlanders off the face of the earth long ago.

The convoy of trucks loaded with armed soldiers came to a gradual halt when the group of vehicles in front of them came closer. Nolan turned in his seat to face Hazel and Des.

“Just stay in here for now.”

“What’s happening?” Hazel asked.

“I have to explain this,” he said, nodding at Des. “I don’t think they’re going to be happy he’s here.”

Gus and Nolan opened their doors and stepped out to meet the others, then slammed the doors closed.

“I wonder why he’s being intercepted?” Des said.

“What do you mean?”

“Isn’t he supposed to be important? Why wouldn’t he be allowed in automatically?”

Hazel shook her head. “Maybe they’re just verifying he is who he claims before they let him in.”

Des held up a finger and turned his head.

“You can pick up what they’re saying?”

“Better than that,” he answered with a smile.

Des opened his mouth a little wider and Hazel instantly heard the sound of muffled footsteps, then voices. She could hear the voices outside from the distance, but almost simultaneously she could hear it through Des’ speaker. He kept the volume down to avoid suspicion, but she could hear them perfectly.

She leaned in closer to Des and stared out the window to see the backs of Gus and Nolan meeting with a much taller man who had a thick, gray beard.

“Lester,” Nolan said, nodding.

“Nolan.” Lester’s voice was deep and gravelly. The way he stood over the others, his hands deep in his coat pockets to block the cool, morning air made him seem powerful. The way Nolan had acted when getting out of the truck made it seem like the man wouldn’t be too happy about him bringing the extra cargo. “You make it through all right?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Had a few close calls.”

“What about the files?”

“I’ve got them.”

“Good. We can take them back to headquarters and get everything sorted out.”

“Hang on, about that.”

Lester’s eyes narrowed.

“What’s wrong? You said you had the files.”

“And a little more,” Nolan said. “Hazel Hawthorn is in the truck.”

Lester turned his head to look toward her. She ducked instinctively though he probably couldn’t see her anyway because of the headlights. She wasn’t sure why she ducked either.

Stupid.

“You brought her here? Why?”

“She’s just as much of an outlaw as me now. Besides, I think she can help us further.”

Lester shook his head. “I don’t like it. You were just supposed to use her to get to the mainframe.”

“Well, Lester, there’s more to it than that. Besides, I’m the one that chose her, remember? I had my own reasons.”

“I don’t care about your reasons. You need to run these things by me.”

“Well, there’s more,” Nolan said.

Lester chewed the inside of his cheek, waiting.

“You saw my capture on the television?”

“I did.”

“The robot that caught me…”

“Prototype D, yes.”

“He’s here. In the truck. With Hazel.”

Lester swore and immediately pulled a pistol from his belt.

Nolan quickly put his arms up. “Wait, wait, wait.”

Lester stopped in his tracks.

“First of all, if you go at it with that, it’s going to destroy you. Second, we have to keep it alive.”

“Why?”

“Because my files are stored in its memory.”

Lester looked at Nolan with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open. “Are you serious?”

“I am. We have to keep them both safe or the information is gone.”

“Bring them out,” Lester said.

“Why?”

“Just do it. I want to talk to them.”

Nolan sighed and motioned for Gus to go back to the truck. Des and Hazel both sat up straight and Des switched off the microphone. The robot looked at Hazel with an assuring nod. “I’m not going to let them hurt you. And they won’t try anything with me.”

“We can’t trust them.”

“I know. But they won’t do anything to jeopardize their chances of keeping the files.”

Hazel nodded, still feeling uneasy about being where she was. As Gus approached, she had the strongest desire to be back home in her bed—back before she had ever decided to go to the university. Back before they had chosen her. At this point she wished she had refused them or at least studied something different.

Gus opened the door gently on Hazel’s side. His eyes darted to the robot on the other side and he held up a steady hand. “Don’t get crazy or anything, but the boss wants to see you both.”

“Which one is the boss?” Hazel asked.

“Lester,” Gus said. “He’s the head honcho. The guy all of us have to answer to. What he tells us, we do.”

“What if he tells you to kill us?” Hazel asked.

Gus smiled. “Then I suppose your robot friend here will have to show what he’s made of. He ain’t gonna kill you. Not unless you cross him or betray him. Just play nice and everything will be all right.”

Hazel looked at Des who offered no emotion. He studied Gus, then looked through the windshield at Lester and Nolan. Without saying a word, he reached for the door, opened it, and stepped out onto his one leg as he held tightly to his broken one. Hazel looked up at Gus and shook her head as she, too, got out of the truck. The Outland breeze hit her and it felt colder than she had expected.

Neither Nolan nor Lester looked at her as she got out, rather their stares were fixed on Des. All of the twenty or so men had their guns fixed on him as he jumped steadily, one foot at a time, in front of Hazel toward the group. When he got about fifteen feet away, Lester spoke up.

“That’s far enough,” he said.

Des stopped short.

Lester still held his pistol firmly even though he’d been told it was useless. It had taken a robot with about twice as much power as Des to break his leg. But it would take a bit more than what these men had with them to take Des down.

“The plan was never for you to step foot inside our caverns,” Lester said. His eyes finally fell on Hazel. “Do you know how to extract the information from him? We’ve got equipment.”

“Actually, she’s got a hard drive on her,” Nolan offered.

Lester smiled and shrugged. “All the better. We can get this over with right here.”

“We’re not going to do that,” Hazel said.

Lester frowned. “You think you have a choice?”

“I have leverage. All you’re asking me to do is get rid of any leverage I have. I’m not going to do that.”

“And what if I shot you, right here?”

Des spoke next as he hopped in front of Hazel. He held his broken leg firmly in his hand like a club. “Then I’ll beat you and your men over the head with my broken leg until you stop breathing.” He looked down at Lester’s gun. “And you won’t get the files you need.”

“What assurance do I have that you’ll give us the files at all?”

Hazel stepped out from behind Des. “We have no place to go. We can’t go back. All we can do is seek shelter with you, the Outlanders. You are our only hope of survival. We want to make a trade.”

“A trade?”

“That’s right.” She couldn’t believe these words were coming out of her mouth. “We will give you the files in exchange for a place among your people.” She would have never thought she would try to barter her way into becoming an Outlander, yet here she was, speaking to their leader.

“Our people are dying,” Lester said. “You want to join a dying people?”

“Seems like you have a good plan to turn that around.”

“We have a lot of work to do before we get there.”

“Des and I can help. We know how things work in Mainland.”

“We know how things work in Mainland too,” Lester said as he glanced at Nolan. “Recruiting more Mainlanders to our team isn’t the answer. The answer is in the files.”

“And what do you hope to do with those files?”

“Show them to my people,” Lester said. “There is a growing number of them who don’t believe that our cause is just or important. Many think I’m a liar who only fights because I’m hungry for war. But they don’t know what we know.”

“And you don’t know what I know,” Des said. “These files have been playing over and over in my mind. The more I think, the more I see what has happened in the past. The more I know that the Mainlanders have dealt you a terrible hand.” He looked at Nolan. “You have done a great thing by gathering this information. But it’s not enough that you show it to your people to rally them together. This information needs to be shown to the Mainlanders. If people knew what I have seen, what Nolan has seen, then they would revolt. The Outlanders would be welcomed with open arms.”

Hazel stared up at Des as he spoke, wishing she had seen the things that he had seen because she still wasn’t entirely convinced that the Mainland government had a full-on plan to destroy the Outlanders. She still hadn’t seen proof of the nuclear weapon they supposedly had stored away in secret. Just conversations.

Lester shook his head. “Eventually, that is part of the plan. But we’re not there yet.”

“I’m not going to pretend I have all the answers you’re looking for,” Hazel said, “but you don’t get one of us without the other.”

Lester lifted an eyebrow at this. “You wouldn’t leave a machine behind?”

“Des is no machine,” Hazel said, her face getting hot. “He’s a person.”

“He is gears and wires made by man.”

“Maybe, but so are we,” Hazel said. “We’re just made differently. But to answer your question, no I wouldn’t leave him behind. And he won’t leave me behind either.”

Lester holstered his gun and crossed his arms, raising a hand to tug at the sides of his beard. “You realize that your friend, Des, is the very thing we’re trying to stop. If word gets out that we let one of these things loose within the town they’d hang me.”

“I suppose you have to weigh what is more important,” Hazel said, her eyes fixed and her jaw tight.

Lester continued to stroke his beard as he now stared at the ground. To Hazel, he seemed to be weighing the options in his mind, though she didn’t feel like they had actually given him any.

“You can take my word as you want,” Des said, “but I assure you, I’m not here to cause trouble.”

“And why are you here?” Lester asked.

Des pointed at Nolan. “Because I have his files.”

“Yes, I know that, but why do you want to be here?”

“I have quickly become a fugitive in the place I was made. I was created with the purpose to destroy you, but that is not integrated into my programming.”

“Not that you know of,” Lester said.

“It isn’t,” Hazel said. “I was in complete control of his programming. I didn’t create his body but I created him. He was a blank slate. No prejudices were programmed.”

Nolan took a couple of steps forward and turned around to face Lester. Hazel craned her neck to listen, though it didn’t seem he tried to lower his voice.

“We didn’t really have a choice in this,” he said.

“If you would have done your job right, we would.” Lester sounded cold as he spoke, dismissive.

“You know what we have to do.”

Lester kicked at the dirt and continued to stroke and tug at his beard. Nolan stepped away and looked at Hazel. Lester stood in front of them for a long time. The silence was uncomfortable, especially with all the guns pointed at them. Hazel was tired of him taking his sweet time to decide what they already knew would happen. There was no alternative.

“Put them in my truck,” Lester said. “We’ll need to keep this quiet.”

33

The house felt quiet now that everyone was gone. Even Gizmo made little noise. John had no news of his daughter and he realized that he might never have news of her. In fact, if he did hear anything about her, it would probably mean she’d been caught or killed by the Mainland soldiers.

John hadn’t been able to sleep since they left, his thoughts running wild and going in too many directions. He knew it was only a matter of time before someone came to him looking for Hazel. He would be questioned. He would deny knowing anything. More than likely, they would leave him alone. John had enough of a history with the military that he was still respected, though he wasn’t sure that would matter in this case.

He tried to push the recordings from his mind, though he knew it was folly to do so. Pushing it further from his mind meant denying what his daughter believed in. It meant choosing sides. But John didn’t want to be on a side. He didn’t want any of this.

John allowed his thoughts to wander until the slightest noise outside his house snapped him to attention. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Perhaps the noise reminded him of an old jet engine, though this was much smaller but still powerful. The sound grew louder and louder until it stopped abruptly.

John stood from his chair and fumbled toward the window on the other side of the room. His fingers ran across the bottom of the sill until he found the latch to open it. He had locked everything since the others left. The cool morning air hit his chest as it blew into the house like a welcomed guest. But the next sound he heard was jarring and as unwelcoming as any intruder.

From the cracked asphalt street no more than a block away, he heard the sounds of unnatural footsteps that grew louder and louder with each reverberating stomp. Metal against rock, there was no mistaking it. His practiced ears were keener than they had ever been since they had replaced his eyes.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

Each step seemed deliberate as though the walker intended to announce his arrival to any and every person within a mile. What made John’s heart race was the fact that every step came closer to him than the last. For the next several seconds, John stood at the window, waiting, listening, wondering what on earth the thing could be. When he realized that it was making its way to his house, he abruptly, and perhaps too loudly, shut the window and turned toward Gizmo.

“Stay quiet,” John ordered with a harsh whisper.

“Gladly,” Gizmo said with too much cheer.

“Shut up!” John snapped.

All John could hear now was Gizmo’s gears as he tried to maneuver around the room—his destination and purpose for doing so known only to him.

The pumping of John’s beating heart threatened to overtake his eardrums as the blood flowed rapidly through his veins. For a moment he thought this had happened. The footsteps no longer broke the silence of the night and he wondered if the being had stopped or had decided to go in a different direction. He felt silly standing in the middle of his living room, fearful that something was after him. As the silence continued, he cursed at himself for being so paranoid and felt his way to his chair. He knew he wasn’t crazy. He had heard it. Had his feeling of fear been misplaced? Possibly. More than likely, even. What was becoming of him? It would have taken a lot more to frighten him back in the day. Was he losing his composure as his days of darkness grew longer?

Whatever composure he had left fled from him when he heard the footsteps again, this time on his front porch. His hands clenched the arms of his chair. He could hear Gizmo stop suddenly as he too must have heard the noise. Metal rapping against wood produced a knock at the door loud enough to shake objects on a nearby table.

“Shall I answer it?” Gizmo asked in a hushed voice.

If the little robot was capable of anything but joy, John would have thought he detected nervousness or concern from his voice. He wondered if he was simply projecting his own fears onto Gizmo.

“No,” John whispered. “Stay quiet, no matter what.”

“I can hear what you’re saying,” a muffled voice from the other side of the door called out. “I can hear you breathing.”

John instinctively held his breath even though it was too late. The object on the porch had the movement of a machine but the voice of a man. John immediately knew it was a robot. A surge of thoughts pushed through John’s brain as he tried to make some sense of why it would be at his doorstep, but nothing solid came to mind.

“There really is an easy way and a hard way for you,” the robot said. “Neither way is hard for me. Open the door.”

John grimaced as he considered the robot’s words. He didn’t want to give in so easily, but there really was no choice. Whatever this robot wanted, it was going to get it, but it didn’t give John the chance to stand from his chair and work his way to the door. Instead, John heard a loud clank followed by cracking wood. The doorknob fell to the floor and John felt the same chilly breeze he’d let in through the window.

“Hello, John,” the robot said. “Long time no see. I guess in your case that works in multiple ways.”

John remained fixed to the chair as if he’d been sewn into the fabric. He didn’t recognize the voice, so the fact that it called him by name was confusing. John tried to judge the size and weight of the robot by the vibrations throughout the house as the robot entered, and all he could surmise was that it was giant. Gizmo confirmed this with a happy greeting.

“Wow, you’re huge! Welcome to our home.”

John could sense the large robot standing in front of him and he wished there was something he could do or say to make it leave. But it wasn’t here without a purpose.

“Please,” John said, “tell me how we know each other.”

“We have a mutual friend,” the robot said. “Though our relationship runs deeper than friendship.”

“She created you,” John said.

“Yes.”

“Esroy?” It was less of a question than how it came out. He didn’t need to robot to respond. It made sense.

“That’s right,” Esroy answered.

“You’re looking for my daughter. I don’t know where she is. I wouldn’t tell you if I did know.”

“Hazel is a traitor to Mainland,” Esroy said coldly.

John swallowed. “I don’t believe that.”

“Believe what you want. I know the truth.”

“And you think she’s here?”

“No,” Esroy said. “She’s already been here.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Gizmo,” Esroy said. “Was Hazel here last night?”

“Along with several exciting guests!”

John winced when the little robot spoke.

“A few minutes of memory extraction will give me everything I need,” Esroy said.

“I warned Hazel about you,” John said. “A long time ago.”

“I’m not the bad guy here.” Esroy’s tone was sharp.

“You expect me to think my daughter is?”

“What you think is irrelevant. Hazel has obtained sensitive information.”

“So, why are you here?”

“Insurance. She will be forced to choose between the life of her only remaining relative and giving up the information.”

A surge of anger welled up inside John. “You would use me against your own creator? You wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for her.”

Esroy said nothing for a long moment and John wondered if what he’d said might have made some impact.

“I understand,” Esroy said. “Which is why I let her escape.”

“You let her?”

“It was that or kill her.”

“So, now you’ll use me to get what you want?”

“I don’t care about you.”

“But Hazel does.”

There was another long pause before Esroy spoke again. “Exactly.”

34

The Outlanders made their home in the dirt hills far beyond Mainland. It was a city of sorts, but nothing normal like the Mainlanders were used to. Mainlanders struggled, but at least they always had the most basic necessities, and compared to what Hazel saw in front of her, Mainland was a paradise.

Hazel, Des, and the others had arrived in the middle of the night and had taken many tunnels and gone through a maze of passageways. It was clear that no one knew of Hazel and Des but for those who needed to know.

She sat quietly on the edge of a small cliff overlooking the dilapidated buildings that spread over the horizon. The sun had risen a while ago now and people were lining up for their rations of food and water. The queue grew longer and longer by the minute. She noticed people’s clothes were tattered and falling to pieces. The children didn’t play with their peers as was natural, rather they clung to their parents, watching the line as it got shorter in front of them, longer behind, in eager anticipation of what little food awaited them.

She looked past them at the buildings. They were mostly shacks—an endless shantytown that stretched as far as the eye could see. It was different from the picture her father had always painted of a civilization living in caves. Perhaps he had never seen what she saw now. Maybe he had only been referring to the Outlanders who were in charge—the fighters who hid away in the caves.

She wondered who determined how much food and water the people received. Was it Lester? Some other important person?

If any of the people took the time to look up at the cliffs, they might have spotted the small speck that was Hazel, perched comfortably above them, her belly full and her thirst quenched. Though she was no stranger to hardship, it was nothing like what these people faced every day.

And yet as she watched them, it was hard for her to find pity. Had they really become this way because of Mainlander apathy or, according to Nolan, because of the Mainlander desire to see the Outlanders destroyed? So, the glaring question was would her mom and sister still be alive if the Mainlanders had been more compassionate and tried to help the Outlanders from the beginning? At what point had the divide begun? When did a certain group of people become the Outlanders? She knew the stories that had been fed to her throughout her entire life, but now she questioned all of it. She didn’t know what was true and what was made up.

She heard a noise behind her and she looked back quickly. She’d hoped it was Des, but was disappointed to see Nolan walking slowly.

“First time to see the food lines?” Nolan asked.

Hazel wasn’t sure if it was a two-sided question meant to make her feel guilty for living a life of three meals a day, never giving a thought to hydration. But his next words put her at ease.

“It was hard for me the first time,” he said. He sat next to her. The rock was too small and brought them closer together than she would have liked. Their legs dangled over the side freely as a cold breeze from the west blew her hair in front of her face. She didn’t try to fix it.

“How long have there been food lines?” she asked.

“Years,” he answered. “Since before I became an Outlander myself. It keeps resources from being wasted.”

“They look desperate.”

“Now more than ever,” he said. “Rations are much smaller than they used to be.”

“Is there really no other way?” Hazel asked. “How many times have you attacked Mainland and failed?”

“How many times have we had the full support of our own people?”

Hazel shook her head. “I never really knew you didn’t have support.”

“The Outlanders have been painted as savages by people who don’t want them to exist,” he said. “Over the years, such a description suited the Outlanders and they were able to use it to their advantage. Supply raids are a lot easier when the enemy is afraid of you. But as I’ve said before, it’s not enough. We can’t go out and find new places. We can’t ask Mainland for help. All we can do is fight and win. That’s the only way these people will survive. And now is the time to do it. If we wait, we will either starve or we will be up against your robots. In either case, we’re dead. If we strike now, we have a chance.”

“So, what of the Outlanders who don’t agree with you? What do they propose?”

“They hate the leadership because the Council thinks fighting is the only way.”

“Do you know another way?”

Nolan shook his head.

“So, you get the rest of the people on board to fight with you, what then? Do you have weapons for them?”

He looked down at his pants and wiped something off. “We have some weapons, but not enough for everyone. I mean, we have enough guns for everyone, but bullets are limited.”

“So, that’s just it? You’re going to convince them all to fight and then when you lose it’s just over?”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said.

Hazel shook her head. “You forget that I’m not exactly on your side.”

“Even after seeing the proof that the Mainland government is scum?”

“I haven’t seen a lot,” she said. “I’ve seen a couple of very convincing conversations, but I need more.”

Nolan pointed with a thumb. “Well whenever your robot friend is ready, we can show you everything else. You probably don’t even want to know more. It’s terrible.”

“Where is Des?”

“In our main room,” Nolan said. “Phil is trying to weld its leg back into place. That’s actually why I came out here. I wanted to see if you could talk to it. Tell it we need to get started with transferring the files to us. It said it wouldn’t do anything without your say-so.”

“Him,” Hazel said.

“Pardon?”

“You keep calling Des and it. You should say he or him.”

“It’s a robot,” Nolan said. “A robot that was built to kill people like me.”

“He’s a robot with feelings and attachments just like you and me,” she said. “He is a conscious being.”

Nolan held a palm up. “Okay, sorry. I was hoping you could talk to him.”

“How do we know you’re not just going to kill us the minute you have all the information you need?”

Nolan shook his head. “Your words are born of ignorance and prejudice.”

“I feel like I’ve earned the right to feel the way I do.”

“You more than most,” he said, looking down at the lines forming in the streets. “All I can tell you is that we’ve never had the desire to kill people. All we’ve ever wanted was equality.”

Hazel’s eyes were fixed on something in front of her, though she didn’t comprehend what she saw, but only what was in her mind’s eye—a vision of her mother and sister; the battles she witnessed from the rooftop of their house; the manic looks on the faces made by the bloodthirsty Outlanders as they broke through the walls and attacked Mainland. All of it was too much to forget no matter what someone like Nolan told her.

She finally shook her head and looked at Nolan, who watched her seemingly contemplative. “You don’t even have much of a say here, do you?”

Nolan huffed. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, Lester seems to be in charge here, not you.”

“Well, you’re right that I’m not in charge, but I hold a high position with the Outlanders.” He sat a little straighter when he said this.

“You mean with the warring side,” she said. “With those that want a fight versus those who want to find another way.”

“The warring side, as you call it, is the leadership,” he said. “There is no democracy here. We can’t afford a democracy, not in the state we’re in.”

“Then who makes the decisions?” she asked.

“The Council,” he said.

“Who is that?”

“A group of people.”

“You’re part of this group?”

Nolan rubbed at his cheeks and sighed. “What’s your point?”

“Is Lester?”

“No!” Nolan snapped. “But we have influence. And with the files I have, the people will listen to us. Faith in the Council will be restored. It was the Council that recruited me for the president’s assassination. They want the people to see the truth.”

“Who is the Council?”

Nolan shook his head. “A group of three people. That’s all I know.”

“Wait a second,” Hazel said. She stared intently at Nolan who was now looking away from her, avoiding her eyes. “You’re blindly following a group of people who call themselves the Council? And they want you to persuade the Outlanders to be all in for an attack against Mainland?”

“That’s right.”

“To what end?”

“Equality. Acceptance in the community of Mainlanders. Ultimately so we don’t starve and die out.”

“You don’t think the Council just wants more authority? Do you even know who they are? Have you ever met them?”

“That’s irrelevant,” he answered. “Whether I’ve met them or I haven’t, I know the truth. I know that President Godfrey and President Morris are and were bad people. I know there is and was intent to destroy those people down there because they don’t like them—because they are afraid of them. I don’t have to know who my leaders are as long as I know they are fighting for what is right.” He lifted his hands in the air with an exaggerated shrug. “Maybe both sides are bad, Hazel. But I know that for now, there is a side that is fighting to keep those people down there alive. And there is a side that wants them all dead. And you can fall on whatever side you want, but I figured you’d already made your decision when you came with us.”

“I was all but forced here,” she said.

“That’s not true and you know it. You wanted to see the proof. You wanted to see those files.”

“I haven’t seen much,” she said.

“Well, it was enough to make you a wanted person in your own land,” he said. “You’ve already chosen your side, Hazel. It’s time to give up your prejudices and ghosts of the past and help us. That robot isn’t going to give us anything without you.”

There was no way around it. Nolan only preached the truth and it was time for Hazel to commit. She knew if she didn’t now she would be doomed to a life down there in the streets in the food lines. Or worse, the Council might think she was a liability that needed to be taken care of.

The idea of others being in charge and no one else knowing who they were disturbed Hazel a great deal, but there was nothing she could do about it. In truth, she wasn’t all that different from Nolan now. He had made his choice by openly betraying Mainland and killing President Godfrey. And he continued on despite not knowing who exactly was in charge. He answered to Lester who probably answered to someone else, or perhaps even directly to the Council. Whatever the case, it shouldn’t have mattered to her. Like Nolan, she knew the truth, and she was about to learn a lot more of it. Then, they would show the truth to the rest of the Outlanders and their hatred would grow. Each and every individual would be moved to act—to fight. To what end, none of them truly knew.

35

The caves were not simply rock walls and dusty floors of dark tunnels going on into infinity. Each passageway was reinforced by concrete, the ceilings lined with exposed wires and dangling lights throughout. Each corridor led to a room which served some purpose or another for the men and women who inhabited this place.

Des sat in the corner of one of these rooms as a group of men talked among themselves at a table. Phil hunkered over Des’ leg, the welding mask flipped up as he studied the knee joint closely. He shook his head and winced.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve done the best I can do, but you’re made of strong stuff. The weld isn’t as tough as whatever metal you’re made out of but it should do for a while.”

“Can I walk?” Des asked.

“Sure! You can walk. Kick. Whatever you want. But at some point, that leg is going to snap off at the welded spot. With the right force, that’ll come clean off. You need it to be reassembled.”

Des didn’t like the sound of that. It wasn’t like he could walk up to Roger’s office and ask for a new leg. This would inhibit him in a fight. He would have to protect himself better.

“Thanks for your help,” Des said.

Phil smiled and wiped sweat from his forehead. “Happy to help. I just hope it works out for you.” He stood and motioned for Des to stand. “Go on, try it out.”

Des stood from his seat. He took a few steps forward. For the most part he could bend his knee the way he needed, but it felt stiff, perhaps a bit unnatural like there was something there that shouldn’t have been. He looked up at Phil and smiled. “It’s good. Thank you.”

Phil nodded and started gathering his things. Des looked at the other men at the table. When Phil had been repairing his leg, Des listened to their conversations to get some sort of idea about what kind of people they were, but their talks only consisted of gossip and theorizations of things and people Des knew nothing about. He wondered if they were meant to keep an eye on him and report any strange activity, but truly, Des had nothing to do but dwell on his own thoughts which consisted mostly of the files that had been uploaded to his memory. That, and the promise he’d made to Hazel’s father. He felt guilty that he wasn’t by her side right now, but he didn’t suspect that she was in danger now. Besides, his options of defending her were limited with only one leg.

He had cycled through each file multiple times and had even gone through most of the videos. The amount of data Nolan had gotten his hands on was extraordinary. There was no question that people high up within the Mainland government were corrupt and had a strong desire to destroy the Outlanders, all for the sake of securing their own future.

Everything Nolan had spoken of was true. The nuclear bomb came to mind. Deep within the belly of Mainland was a silo where a nuclear bomb was stored. It was a relic from the old world, but had lost none of its functionality. It was ready to be used at the command of the president, and only a few key people knew of its existence. From his studying, Des knew that from the beginning, the Mainland government had garnered trust with its people, starting with the declaration that all nuclear weapons were gone from the world and that they would never be made again. As the only living people on Earth, it was their responsibility to rebuild the world as a better place. But not only were they hiding the very kind of weapon that brought humanity to its knees, they were leading the people to believe that there was no one else out there. Nolan had proof of other cities.

Since the beginning of the new world, just over a hundred years before, Mainland had told its citizens that they were all surrounded by miles and miles of nuclear-poisoned air and to venture very far from the city would only mean death. And in the beginning, some of this might have been true, but eventually it was reasoned that to keep things the way they were benefitted the Mainlanders more than it would to explore new cities and surviving civilizations. In fact, there were documents proving that Mainland had dedicated an entire secret task force to making sure that explorers from other settlements or cities never found Mainland; all of this to help maintain the feeling of isolation. This went hand-in-hand with their limiting the people on their use of technology as well. All resources and advancement were reserved for the government and the military. Citizens were purposefully kept in the dark, and power was rationed to favor the military compound and the resources it required. This was why electricity could only be used during certain hours. This was why people were not allowed to have vehicles.

Streets and buildings remained in disrepair to remind people of wars of the past. Beautification was withheld so people would feel the hardship of life and be reminded that this was what war brought them, even though it was their parents and grandparents who fought it. Every aspect of living for the average citizen of Mainland was a controlled, thought-out method created by the Mainland government to maintain and enforce complete control over its people.

The Outlanders got it the worst. According to one video, Nolan was having a conversation with President Godfrey about the Outlanders. The two of them had been alone and were at what looked to be a kitchen table. Both of them had drinks in front of them that were filled and refilled throughout the conversation. And the more drunk Godfrey became, the more he talked.

To Des, the president must have had some unspoken respect for Nolan, who hadn’t been in the government for very long but was close enough to have private meetings with him. In this particular one, Nolan brought up the issue of the Outlanders, and asked him who they really were and why they deserved such treatment.

“It’s not so much about what they did, rather it’s what they represent,” Godfrey said after taking another swig.

“What do you mean?” Nolan asked.

Godfrey smiled. He was drunk enough to talk, but lucid enough to at least consider his words before opening his mouth. “Let’s just say, people need somebody to hate. The Outlanders are the ones to hate.”

“Because they started the Great War?” Nolan asked. He sounded naive and maybe even stupid, but Des knew he was just trying to get something out of Godfrey—a sound bite that would work in his case against the man.

Godfrey shook his head and finished off another glass of the dark liquid. He winced and set the glass down hard before pouring it half-full again. “The Outlanders are victims of the Great War as much as we are. Worse really. They just happened to be set apart enough to not have the resources that we have.”

“So, they didn’t start the Great War?”

Godfrey laughed. “Honestly, I wish they had. But they are just people. Savages. But just people. They drew the short stick. We didn’t. We live on resourceful land. We have the power and technology to leave and gather fuel supplies. We let them cherry pick off of us every so often so they don’t completely die off, and then when things get dire, they attack.”

“So, why let them live?”

“I told you. People need someone to hate. They need an enemy. If there is no one to fight, then what’s the point? The people can feel good and justified that there is a monster out there that caused this whole mess that we call life now.”

“So, if they didn’t start it then who did?”

Godfrey waved Nolan off. “A lot of people. And they were a long way from here. The war took years, you know. Nuclear blasts caused famines and diseases. It’s the sicknesses that killed off most of the world. The nuclear bombs get most of the credit because they’re so scary. Have you ever seen footage of one of those things going off?”

Nolan didn’t answer audibly.

“Nasty stuff,” Godfrey said. “You don’t want to be anywhere close to of one of those things when it blows up.”

“Okay,” Nolan said, sitting up in his chair. “You say the people need an enemy, but not long ago you talked about the silo, the bomb. You talked about using it against the Outlanders. Wouldn’t it all be over then? There wouldn’t be an enemy anymore.”

“Things change,” Godfrey said. “The Outlanders can’t be the enemy forever. While we can, we have to make them seem bigger and more threatening; the Mainlanders would then follow blindly once we finally destroy the group that has so long been against us.”

“I don’t follow.”

“It’s about creating a legacy, Nolan. Sure, the Mainlanders need an enemy, and we have one. But what happens when we defeat that enemy?”

Nolan said nothing.

“We gain the public’s unwavering adoration,” he said. “The leadership can become gods among them. They will worship us for defeating the savages. So, we get the Outlanders to a point where they bring everything they have against us. We get them to come at us and hurt us. They get desperate enough to embrace that savage image that we’ve painted of them. We get the people of Mainland to fear and hate them so much that they would do anything to be rid of the Outlanders.”

“So, you use the bomb.”

“As a last resort. First, we try the robots.” Godfrey’s eyes lowered and his grin deepened. “When the robots destroy the Outlanders, we use them as our own law enforcement.” He shrugged. “Your common soldier won’t be able to beat one of those things. Not easily.”

“You’re talking about a police state with citizens that already worship you?”

“The police state is for the future security of our government. They won’t love us forever. They will naturally need someone else to hate, and if there is no one else, then they will turn on us.”

“And how does the bomb factor into all of this?”

“Like I said—a last resort against the Outlanders,” Godfrey answered. “The people will forgive it if it means defeating their enemy. But we will see how the robots do first.”

If Des had the ability to feel sick, he probably would have thrown up after watching the video. He hated all of it, but it was enlightening at the same time. There was nothing within him that could ever go along with the Mainland government. However, to know that he was meant not only for the destruction of an innocent group of people, but also the security of future monsters, it made him want to deactivate himself. It was an impulse reaction that he knew would produce no beneficial results, but it was his first thought regardless.

When he heard a noise from the other end of the room, he looked up to see Hazel and Nolan walking in. He stood abruptly and so did the men at the table. Nolan held up a hand and nodded to them assuringly.

“Des,” Hazel said. “You’re walking!”

“Thanks to Phil.”

“We need to talk.”

“I know,” he said. “You’ve seen some of the proof that Nolan told you about, but there is so much more. I want you to see all of it.”

“Oh,” she said. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Hazel,” Des said. “This is bigger than you know. Bigger than I thought.”

“So,” Nolan said, “you’re ready to hand over the files?”

Des kept his stare fixed on Hazel. She seemed so innocent in all this, but at the same time she was a tool the Mainland government had used to start the process. What he felt for her, he could not understand. Part of him wanted to hold her in his arms. He wanted to protect her at all costs. Though the Outlanders had been dealt a heavy hand, that didn’t mean they were all good people and wouldn’t kill Hazel. Des felt the responsibility to protect her over everything else. A human’s life was lost so easily. He would help the Outlanders so long as they helped Hazel and felt the same urgency to keep her safe as he did.

“I will give you the files,” Des said. “But first I want you to assure me that the two of us have a place among you.”

“What?” Nolan said.

“What are you talking about, Des?” Hazel asked.

Des stared into Nolan’s eyes so intensely that the man took a couple of steps backward. “I don’t think you realize the brainpower you have with her. She is smarter than you or anyone here. If you’re going to succeed you’re going to need her.”

“She’s not going anywhere, Des,” Nolan said. “I know you don’t trust us, but we aren’t here to hurt either of you.”

Des considered the man’s words. He tried to detect any abnormalities in his demeanor—a spike in blood pressure, any change in breathing. He detected none. Either Nolan was a master liar or he was telling the truth. Though, being a recruit of the Outlanders and remaining close to President Godfrey meant he was at least a good liar. Whatever the case, Des believed him. He reached a hand out for Nolan to grab. Though it was true that he didn’t fully trust them, the gesture was there all the same.

“Then you have my full support,” Des said.

Nolan slowly accepted Des’ handshake, his skin colder than the metal it embraced.

36

Nolan watched the others as they took in the information. Des sat in a chair as a thin wire ran from the back of his head to the front of a computer terminal. From there the information displayed on a giant screen on the wall by a projector light. They were in their fourth hour of watching videos and reading documents that Nolan had gathered over the years. There was no way that they would get through everything in a single day, but Nolan was able to direct Des in what to show them, and Des even made his own suggestions about clips that Nolan had forgotten to mention.

Hazel sat in a stunned silence. To Nolan it seemed that she hadn’t blinked the entire time. Lester and a few of the others in the room like Phil and Gus watched in the same manner. They all saw the truth unfold in front of them—a truth that each of them already knew, and that was confirmed by the documentation. But it was more about affirmation than anything. Each of them could finally say without a doubt they had been doing the right thing this entire time and there was no one who could tell them differently.

In a way it made Nolan happy that they were seeing the truth, and he felt validated even in the eyes of those who believed in him. In another sense, however, it was sad to watch all of this again. Most of it he hadn’t seen in years. Some of it he’d never even had the time to review before locking it away in his hidden files.

The most ironic and strange feeling about all this was having Des not only in the same room with him, but that the robot was streaming the information for them. It felt good in its own way like it was a small victory over the enemy.

When the next video finished, Lester called for a break. The lights flipped on and Phil turned on a smaller screen to catch the video feed coming from Mainland. It was the news. Always the news.

Nolan glanced at Hazel who still seemed to be in a daze. He understood her feelings. He knew she had just witnessed things she might have rather not seen. But like the rest of them, the proof justified both her past and her future actions against Mainland.

Nolan sat next to her and thought about resting a hand on her shoulder, but decided not to. “You okay?” he asked.

It seemed like there was a struggle within her, a fight between expressing herself and keeping herself closed off from the rest of them. “I can’t believe I helped them for so long,” she finally said.

“There was no way you could have known what they were planning,” Nolan said.

She continued to stare at the floor. Nolan guessed she was silently thinking about all the events in her life that led up to this moment as he often did with his own life. Going from a high position in the Mainland government, to assassin, to a key player in the Outlander rebellion had turned his life into a chaotic mess over the last couple of years. But only now was he able to see the endgame, the progress they had all been striving for.

Des stood from the floor and disconnected the long cord from his head. The screen behind him turned blue and Lester shut it off for the time being. “So, your mission is to show all this to your people?”

Lester scratched at the back of his head and cleared his throat. “That’s right.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“A composite video,” Nolan said.

“But you can’t show them everything,” Des said. “You wouldn’t be able to hold their attention for that long.”

“Of course not,” Nolan said. “We’re going to splice together some key clips and put it all into a ten or fifteen minute video, then broadcast it.”

“Then,” Lester said, “we’re hoping we can rally them together.”

“What’s your plan after that?” Des asked.

There was a long moment of silence in the room. Each man looked at another, waiting for someone to answer. It was Lester. “Then we attack.”

“But you already know that it won’t work,” Des said.

“I don’t know about that,” Nolan said abruptly.

“But you do,” Des said. “Surely, you’ve run the numbers already. I’m not entirely sure how many Outlanders there are, but according to the data provided to me by the Mainland Military, your total population counts as only a third the size of Mainland’s. I’m also assuming that the ratio of fighters available isn’t any better. Maybe worse?”

Nolan exchanged glances with Lester who nodded at him. Nolan looked back at Des and took a deep breath. “That’s the goal, yes. But the fight is supposed to be more of a distraction, while we try to get a team in to the broadcast tower.”

“What then?” Des asked. “You’re going to play the same video you played for your people?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you just sneak in and do it?” Hazel asked. “You’ve done it once. You could do it again.”

Nolan and Lester glanced at each other again. This time Lester took the lead.

“We have no access to the broadcast tower in Mainland. It’s deep within the city and it’s guarded.”

“Well, we did,” Nolan said, looking at Gus.

“What about sneaking in again?” Hazel asked.

“We don’t have that kind of time,” Nolan said. “We’d have to wait for things to cool off in Mainland’s security. For the next few months, if not years, they’re going to be checking every vehicle that goes through the gates. They hadn’t really anticipated me sneaking back into Mainland, but now they know I can. That’s why we need a large enough fight at the border to get a team in there.”

“The broadcast tower is miles from the border,” Hazel said. “Quite a few of them actually. How do you think you can get there safely?”

“We’re hoping Bracken is going to send everything he’s got to the border to fight us,” Lester said. “I don’t think we will make it without meeting any resistance, but our chances are good.”

“And you know how to override the systems to broadcast your message all over the city?” Des asked.

“We have a good idea,” Nolan said. He nodded at Gus. “He used to be a newscaster. He’s the one that set up our own communications system.”

Gus gave a short salute with two fingers with one hand and with the other he pulled a flask from his jacket.

“Just one bullet,” Des said.

“Pardon?”

“One bullet is all it takes, and you’re entire revolution is over.”

“I don’t follow.” Nolan squinted his eyes at the robot.

Des pointed at Gus. “If one stray bullet goes through this man’s brain, then you can’t get the broadcast out to the Mainlanders. And the broadcast is the most important part of your operation. Without it, you will never gain sympathy from the public, and will therefore be left to die out in the wilderness. Or worse, more robots like Esroy will be after you, and your people will be annihilated in a matter of weeks.”

“Everything we do is a risk,” Nolan said.

No one offered a response to this and the room was silent for a long time as they stared at each other, the floor, or at screens across the room. After a minute it started to feel awkward.

“I uh, hate to break this wonderful moment of silence,” Phil said, “but isn’t that your dad?” He pointed at one of the screens.

Hazel’s head jerked upward and focused on the screen showing the news. There it was, the image of her father, his unseeing eyes focusing on nothing in front of him. Tears fell down his face as he slumped forward in a chair, his hands bound together by handcuffs. Commander Bracken and a large metal robot stood on both sides of him. Esroy’s red armor was a shiny metal mixed with scrapes and scuffs from his confrontation with Des.

All the eyes in the room were fixed on the screen as Lester turned up the volume. They caught the clip mid-sentence, with Bracken saying something about Outlanders and their unwillingness to give up their savagery.

“So, today we arrested John Hawthorn, father of Hazel Hawthorn, for harboring our enemies and hindering the investigation of Mainland soldiers.”

Gus shook his head, raising a fist. “What good is arresting a blind guy? He looks helpless.”

Hazel shushed him as she stepped closer to the screen.

“Yesterday, the robot you saw betrayed us under Hazel Hawthorn’s direction. A rogue agent of the Outlanders, Hazel programmed the robot to turn on us and steal secrets to our most vulnerable defenses. May I reiterate that there are few vulnerabilities, however, it is possible the Outlanders will try to exploit them.”

Phil gritted his teeth. “That son of a—”

“Shhh!” It was Lester this time.

“That’s why we’re prepared to make a deal,” Bracken continued. “We will allow this man to go free in exchange for Hazel Hawthorn and her robot. In making this exchange, the Outlanders will be showing good faith and we will not feel the need for retaliation. Otherwise, this man will receive the penalty that he rightly deserves, and that of any traitor to Mainland: death.”

The picture cut away to a broadcaster and Lester turned the volume down. Nolan walked up next to Hazel, this time placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’s just a ploy,” he said.

A tear rolled down the side of her face as she stared at the screen. “To what purpose? How would this benefit him?”

“It’s more of a way to get information from you,” Lester said. “They would take you and ask you about what you’ve seen. The conditions of the city, the number of soldiers we have, where our leadership resides, that sort of thing.”

“But they would let my father go?”

“They would kill both of you,” Nolan said.

Hazel turned her head toward him sharply. “I can’t let him die like that. I have to help him.”

“Then join us in the fight,” Nolan said. “The best way you can help him is to take down the very people who have him.”

Hazel looked away from him and up at Des who had a concerned look on his face. Nolan didn’t want to see the old man die any more than the rest of them, but it was clearly a ploy to draw Hazel out, or more than likely, to capture Des so they could extract his data and see the intricacies of the Outlanders’ interweaving tunnels.

“How many soldiers are ready to fight now?” Des asked.

“Not enough,” Nolan answered.

“How long could you sustain a fight at the border?”

Nolan looked at Lester who shrugged and shook his head. “Less than an hour before we would need to retreat back. But that depends on what they bring at us.”

“And the number of people you’re expecting to join you after the video,” Des pressed, “how long then?”

“There’s no way to know,” Lester said. “There are too many variables.”

Des nodded. “I don’t know any of you. I don’t have much of a reason to trust you, but I have less of a reason to trust people like Bracken. So, if you’re ready then I’m yours.”

Nolan watched Des for a moment. He wondered what the robot was thinking or even if normal thoughts actually passed through his mind like a human’s. His words were in reaction to what he had witnessed on the screen. Emotions were running through him just as they were through Nolan, according to Hazel, but he almost couldn’t believe it.

“What do you want to do?” Nolan asked.

“It takes a lot more than a bullet to take me down,” Des said. “And I’m just one person. I can get to the tower quickly and quietly. I will need Gus to show me how to play the broadcast, perhaps upload schematics into my memory beforehand if possible. I think your plan for Gus to start the video feed should be the second option.”

Nolan didn’t know what to think about the robot’s proposal, and from the look on Lester’s face, he didn’t either.

“I know it’s a matter of trust,” Des said. He looked at Hazel who watched him with wide eyes, the skin on her cheeks wet and pale. He smiled at her and looked back at Nolan. “But I can get there more quickly and efficiently. And if I’m shot I won’t go down.”

“What about Esroy?” Hazel asked. “He will be looking for you.”

Des looked at each of them who stared at the robot in disbelief. “If Esroy wants to kill me then let him try.”

37

The evening came and Hazel found herself perched on the same cliff overlooking the Outlander city again. She wrapped her arms around her as the chilly breeze blew over her. She suddenly wished she had the hardened metal exterior that Des had so she could disregard the cold. Each breath came out as white vapor that could be seen only because of the moonlight above her.

The people below had all been gathered together in the streets. Apparently broadcasts weren’t too uncommon; they were used whenever the Council wanted to make announcements through Lester or some other representative meant to pass on information to the public.

She thought about her dad. He was probably in some prison cell somewhere being beaten and tortured for any information about Hazel and her whereabouts. She hated that she had brought this upon him. He didn’t deserve any of it. Whatever sins John Hawthorn may have committed, he had paid for them ten-fold in this life. He’d lost almost everything: his wife, his youngest daughter, his sight. He probably even thought he had lost Hazel.

Des sat next to her on the cliff, watching. Waiting. It was good to be next to him. He seemed highly aware of her feelings, knowing when to speak and when not to. He carried an insightfulness that hadn’t been programmed into him. Perhaps he’d learned it from his brief interactions with human behavior.

She thought about both Esroy and Des and all the other robots Bracken would make because of Hazel. More water came to her eyes the more she thought.

“Still thinking about your father?” Des asked.

“Thinking about a lot of things,” she answered. A tear escaped her left eye and she wiped it away quickly.

“You don’t have to keep yourself from crying,” Des said. “It’s something I wish I could do. With emotion, comes the need to release those emotions and my body doesn’t allow for too many releases. Crying seems to be one that helps a lot.”

“I’m so sorry, Des.”

“For what?”

“For bringing you and Esroy into this world.” She rested her head in her palms and her elbows on her knees as quiet sobs escaped from her lips. “It was never supposed to be this way.”

“Hey,” he said. “Look at me.”

Hazel’s wet face looked up to meet Des’ eyes. His blue stare was captivating and intense. Part of her wanted to look away because the innocence in his gaze felt overwhelming.

“I don’t want you to ever be sorry for creating me,” he said. “I would rather be alive than not.”

“Would you? Your entire existence has been hard.”

“My entire existence has only been a few days. I expect there to be many more days ahead of me.”

“I don’t expect that for any of us,” Hazel said. She hated sounding so downtrodden, but if she couldn’t be honest with Des, who could she be honest with?

“That’s because you’re a pessimist,” Des said with a smile. “I might be too with the life you’ve had. You ask me if I would have rather never been created, but would you have rather not been born? Your life has been harder than mine so far.”

“It wasn’t always that way,” she said. “There were happy times.”

“And those are times I have to look forward to. And so do you. It is impossible to see the future, but I can guess that it won’t be all bad.”

She appreciated his optimism. Even Esroy had never tried this hard to cheer her up, though to be fair, he’d been stuck inside a computer terminal his entire life and didn’t see her outside of the office very often. This topic was another reason for her guilt. Had she just taken the risk and given him a body like he wanted, none of them might be facing this problem. Whatever the fight to come, Esroy would be a significant enemy, and Hazel wouldn’t be able to hide behind their relationship forever. He would one day find cause and justification to kill her, especially since he no longer felt fear.

Esroy wasn’t afraid to lose Hazel.

From this high up, Hazel could still see Lester standing on a wooden platform in the middle of one of the squares. The darkness fell heavy on the crowd but a bright orange light shined on Lester. He stood in front of a microphone which was connected to an ancient PA system, no doubt left over from the old world. It was simply a more primitive version of what Mainland had throughout the most populated areas. However, the striking difference was the fact that nearly every Mainland citizen had a television in his or her home—one that could be switched on when it came time to make announcements.

Hazel remembered how she always hated the television. All it meant was news talking about the bad things happening throughout the city, or announcements from the government that never felt like they pertained to her, especially when she was a child.

When it seemed everything was ready and all the citizens stood in the streets outside their homes, Lester cleared his throat.

“My friends. My fellow Outlanders. Day by day we suffer together. Every moment we think of a better life and what it would take to get there.”

A loud hiss followed by a noisy crackle echoed through the streets as he spoke into the microphone, but the message came across clearly enough.

“There are many ideas,” Lester continued. “Some of you wish to seek out new lands. In the future that may be a possibility. But it is not one afforded to us now. Some of you think we should wait out the storm and try a diplomatic approach. In a world where such diplomacy is valued, it might work. But the Mainlanders have created an image of us that does not allow for peaceful talks. They would rather see us die and no longer be a bother.”

Hazel watched his face on the screen, studying the lines and wrinkles, the expressions with each word spoken. She wish she knew the man. For her the truth about the Mainland leadership wasn’t enough. What was behind Lester’s speech? What were his intentions? His end goal?

“I know some of you don’t believe this, for it is too difficult to swallow. For those of you who do not believe it, for those of you who think I am hell-bent on warring against the Mainlanders, I tell you that you are right. And I believe that when you see what I have seen, each and every one of you will feel the same way.”

Hazel looked at Des who scanned the crowd with his zoomed vision. She wondered what was going through his mind. What was his thought process? Emotions were there, but what were they?

“Over the last few days, we have conducted an operation to infiltrate Mainland and steal evidence that proves our motivations are true. I want to go ahead and say that this video is edited only for time. We’ve chosen clips that need no explanation. These videos were obtained by Nolan Ragsdale during his years in the Mainland government.”

Lester looked down and nodded at someone below the stage. The orange light shut off and the video began playing. The image was grainy and not as clear as it had been on the tiny screens in the caverns or on her computer screen at the military compound, but it was clear enough to recognize a younger-looking Nolan sitting in front of the camera.

“These clips are from meetings that I have personally had with President Godfrey and Vice President Morris. Before you see it, know that I took these videos at my own risk. If any government official were to find out about these recordings, I would be put to death without question. I do this for the truth. I do this because all of us deserve to know the truth. These are the kind of people that made the world the way it is. These kind of people are why there are so few of us left.”

The video cut to the same meeting Hazel had seen in her office. From there to another and another. Most of the clips she had seen. Some of them she hadn’t. She could hear the low murmur of voices below her even from this distance as the people learned the truth about why they lived on scraps and what the Mainlanders planned to do to them.

“They’re crying,” Des said. “Some of them.”

“Really?” Hazel asked, turning to Des.

He nodded. “They are angry.

“So, it’s working.”

When the video ended, everything went dark, though not silent. The crowd’s volume grew louder as voices of discontent rose into the night sky. Finally, the orange light came back on and Lester stood on the wooden platform with a look of anger on his face.

“For those who still say we don’t have a war to fight, to you I say leave! Because your chances of staying alive through peaceful resolution are worse than if you traverse the nuclear wilderness alone!”

A loud cry of support rumbled through the crowd.

“Ready yourselves! Soon we will fight. We will fight!”

The crowd caught his last sentence in stride as he raised his fists in the air and their chants echoed his words with power.

We will fight! We will fight!

Over and over the words were chanted by each person in unison. They were enraged by what they had seen and heard. Those who had wanted to find a different way to solve their problems were forgotten, replaced by a hunger for battle.

Hazel stared below as the noise grew louder and louder.

We will fight! We will fight!

Des turned his head to her, a solemn expression on his face. “We are doing the right thing, aren’t we?”

A puff of white vapor blew out of her mouth in a cloud. “I hope so. I really do.”

The Outlanders’ cries carried on into the night. Images of Mainlanders plotting to kill them was more than enough to rally them together. They only had to wait for the time and place. Even if it was their last fight, and it probably was, they were ready.

38

A day went by and there had been no word of when the Outlander fight would begin, though there was something in the air that suggested it would be soon. Des made sure to keep close to Hazel, the two of them doing little more than watching the Mainland news for any updates about her father or sitting at the cliffs and watching the people as they formed lines—this time for weapons rather than just food. The news offered no updates, and Hazel became more and more frustrated the longer they had to wait. They tried to ask the few people they saw within the caverns, but most of them, Nolan and Lester included, had gone into the city to be a face for the revolution. Apparently they were there to inspire the people further before the harsh fight ahead of them.

Des zoomed in on the crowd and spotted Nolan every now and again. Each time he tried to listen to the people, but his hardware was not nearly so advanced to wade through the sea of low voices and commotion. He was too far and the people too many. Occasionally, Hazel would ask what he saw and he would explain it even though it was almost exactly the same as the time before.

There was one such time when they sat together that Des wasn’t watching people. Instead, he watched as the sun set over the western horizon. He realized that this was one of the first times he had actually had a moment to sit and think about things. His entire life up to this point had been a whirlwind of commotion. He hadn’t had time to consider his own motivations and gather his own thoughts. He thought about how he had so offhandedly volunteered to take the video to the broadcast tower in Mainland. Sure, he was the most capable out of anyone, but that didn’t mean he had to do it. For some reason he had felt it was necessary, but now as he watched the sunset, he wondered what would happen if he instead took Hazel away from this place in search of a more peaceful land. He shook the thought from his head, knowing that finding such a place could take months. Years. There was no way to guarantee her survival on such a trip. He would have to leave her and travel by himself. Once he found a place that was suitable and peaceful enough for her, he could come back and find her, then take her to it. It was a nice thought, and one he liked to entertain, but it was unlikely.

He’d calculated the odds more than a thousand times. There was almost no chance of them succeeding in battle. Of course, Des was a variable in all this. But the enemy also had Esroy to even the playing field. Des just couldn’t ascertain what role Esroy would play in this fight considering he didn’t know how the robot thought, especially without the emotion of fear. Just knowing that Esroy had no fear gave Des a sense of nervousness within himself. Without fear, every thought, every decision was weighed based on logic alone and what would make his own outcome more desirable without taking into account the consequences of his actions.

The sun had gone down and the moon shined bright in the evening sky by the time Nolan came back to the caverns. Hazel and Des had gone in to find her some food because she hadn’t eaten since morning. Nolan helped her find some bread and cheese—a luxury among the Outlanders, he was sure to tell them. While Hazel sat at one of the tables, taking small bites of her sandwich, Nolan led Des to one of the screens on the other side of the room. Gus and Phil were waiting there and stood a little straighter when Des walked up. He wasn’t sure if they were still nervous at his presence or not, but Des wouldn’t have been surprised. Truthfully, Des did everything out of his own free will and there was nothing the others could do to stop him. Not here, at least.

“We need to plug this in,” Gus said, holding up a cord that was connected to a computer tower. “It’s the best way to show you how to display the broadcast over Mainland tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” The inquiry came from Hazel who stood from the table, her mouth full of bread and cheese. “That’s been confirmed?”

Nolan nodded. “Tomorrow morning. By the time we make it to the tower, everyone will be awake and probably near a screen.”

“So, what’s the plan then?” she asked, shrugging. “You’re just going to attack head on?”

“What other option do we have?” Nolan asked. “The attack is merely a distraction to get Des into the city. Bracken is going to have all of his forces concentrated on the largest number of enemies they’ve ever faced. If we’re lucky, they won’t even see Des get through the lines.”

“It’s unlikely that I won’t be seen,” Des said. “I just need to get far enough in that I can get a head start.”

“You understand that the moment the broadcast starts, Bracken is going to send Esroy after you,” Hazel said.

“I’m not afraid of Esroy,” Des said. He wasn’t sure if he spoke the truth, but he felt he needed to display a certain sense of confidence to the others.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re afraid,” Hazel said. “He’s bigger than you. Stronger.”

“I can take a bullet,” Des said proudly.

“Yeah, but you can’t take a lot of bullets. You can’t take a rocket to the head.”

“That thing took your leg off, Des,” Nolan said, “Once the broadcast starts your primary objective is to guard it and make sure it plays all the way through.”

“There will be heavy resistance,” Gus chimed in.

“Wait,” Hazel said, “You’re not planning to send Des alone are you?”

“No,” Nolan said. “He’s got a team. Gus and Phil will lead a group to the broadcast tower.”

“I will go with Des,” Hazel said.

Des shook his head. “No. There’s no way you’re going with me.”

“I have to, Des,” she said, taking a step forward. “If Esroy comes after you, which I am almost certain he will, he might listen to me. He will be far less likely to fight you if I’m there.”

“Not anymore,” Des said. “He let us go on the way out of Mainland but only because he had a good reason. He saw some advantage to letting us go.”

“I don’t believe that,” Hazel said. “It may not have had anything to do with fear, but there was something inside him that didn’t want to let me die.”

“And other than the fear of losing you what could it have been?”

“Respect,” Hazel said. “Principle. I made him. I gave him life. Just because he can’t feel fear doesn’t mean he can’t feel remorse or that he is completely emotionless. He can still care.”

“Yes, but doesn’t the sense of caring involve the fear of loss?” Des wanted more than anything to convince her that Esroy no longer cared about her, whether it was true or not. The likelihood of losing the fight tomorrow was too great and the risk too large for Hazel to go with him. There was no chance of making sure she would be safe in the thick of it all.

His question seemed to stump her, or at least make her pause and consider what he said. But she wouldn’t be totally swayed. She shook her head slowly. “It doesn’t matter. I know how he thinks. I know what his weaknesses are. I know he still cares about me, even if he is angry. You will have a better chance if I go.”

Des felt his worry turn into anger at her persistence. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep her from going, but that didn’t change how he felt.

“I think it’s suicide for you,” Des said. “You forget that it’s not only Esroy who will be after us. There will be a lot of soldiers. We will be targets.” Des looked at the others in the group. “Honestly, I think we should split up. Gus and the team should go one route and I should go another. It betters our chances of making it to the tower and getting the broadcast out to the people.”

“I think we should stick together,” Gus said.

“I don’t know,” Nolan said. “I think the robot might have something here.”

“It is your main objective, after all,” Des said. “Without the broadcast, the whole fight is meaningless, right?”

Nolan nodded slowly, as if he didn’t want to admit that this was a true fact. Arguing that the Outlanders stood a chance at defeating the Mainlanders in battle was preposterous and he knew it.

“All the more reason for me to go with you, Des,” Hazel argued. “If there is any chance of Esroy listening to me, then it’s worth it.”

“You are ready to give your life for this?” Des asked. “For people you don’t know?”

“You are,” Hazel came back. “I have as much right to lay my life on the line as you do.”

“With all due respect, Hazel,” Nolan said, “you’re a programmer, not a fighter.”

“And who do you think programmed those robots?”

Her question was met with silence. Finally Nolan sighed and looked at Des. “She’s going to do what she wants to do, so you might as well accept it.”

Des looked deeply into Hazel’s eyes, her stare fixed on him, unbroken by his urging for her to stay behind. Truly, there was no telling her differently. Perhaps she was right. Maybe if Esroy came after him, which he most definitely would, she could be a help.

“He’s not the same robot you created,” Des said. “He has changed. And not only because of the lack of fear.”

“And you won’t be the same robot I created two years from now either,” she said. “That’s the beauty of being a person. We change.”

“Yes, well the person that is Esroy wants us all dead.”

“I don’t believe that,” she said. “I can’t believe that.”

Des wished more than anything that she would believe it, for believing it would save her life, even if only for a short time.

He turned to Gus who still held the thin, long cord in his hands, ready to upload the broadcast tower schematics and controls into his memory.

“I’m ready,” Des said. His eyes remained on Hazel as he got on his knees and let Gus unlatch the covering on the back of his head. He knew he was putting all of his trust into the man. Into the Outlanders. If they ever wanted to destroy him, this would be the way to do it. All Gus had to do was reach into the back of his head and fry some circuits. With a single motion, the man could end Des forever.

It felt symbolic in a way. When Gus chose to plug in the cord rather than kill him, Des then knew they were all on the same side.

39

The number of vehicles spread over the horizon nearly took Hazel’s breath away. The canvas top trucks carrying twenty or more soldiers outnumbered the other vehicles ten to one. Hazel couldn’t guess how many citizens had joined in the fight, because it was the largest number of Outlanders on the move toward Mainland that Hazel had ever seen. This was confirmed by Nolan when she asked him. She also asked where they had gotten their hands on so many vehicles, and he simply answered that the Outlanders had acquired them over a number of years.

“Only thing is,” Nolan had said, “there’s not enough fuel for all of us to get back.”

The drive wasn’t that long, a couple of hours at most, but Hazel imagined that most of the gas tanks weren’t filled to capacity. She also figured that a return trip wouldn’t be needed for a lot of them considering the number of casualties they projected to have. The hope, however, was that the broadcast would be enough to stall the fighting and most of the Outlanders would be content to occupying the borderland next to the city.

There were just too many ways this whole battle could go, and Hazel couldn’t determine in her own mind what would happen. There was no guarantee that Des would even make it into the city, much less get to the broadcast tower. Hazel didn’t really know what it would look like for Bracken to bring everything he had to the border. From Hazel’s understanding, Mainlanders had never needed to use all of their defense measures to ward off the Outlanders.

She found herself wedged in the back seat of another military truck. Des sat next to her in the middle with Phil on the other side. Gus drove with both hands on the wheel, arms extended. Occasionally he would reach for a flask inside his jacket pocket and take a swig. Hazel was tempted to ask for a sip, but decided not to. In the front seat, Nolan stared out the window at the vehicles beside and behind them, each one kicking up enough red dust to make it look like a man-made sandstorm.

Hazel rested her hands on her belly, wishing there wasn’t a pit in her stomach. She didn’t know if it she was nervous, scared out of her mind, or too calm for her own good. It was the first time she had ever felt this way—her mind too busy to interpret her own emotions. So many scenarios played over at a rapid pace that none of the thoughts seemed coherent. At least she knew the one job she needed to accomplish, and that was to stand between Esroy and Des. That was really all she was good for. However, if Des was right, and Esroy no longer cared about her, then her being there wouldn’t matter. She was as good as dead.

The plan was simple: all of the Outlanders would create the greatest attack Mainland had ever seen, then somehow, Des and a small team would sneak across the border and travel through the city to the broadcast tower. There were no specifics. There couldn’t be. But Hazel had faith that the fight would be substantial. She thought about that night when she was a teenager. The Outlanders were much smaller in number and they made it through the border easily enough. The fight lasted through the night. She never learned the statistics of that battle—how many people died on either side. She had always been so caught up in what had happened to her that she barely wondered how many other people had lost their lives.

The group hardly spoke as the vehicles jostled through the dirt and sand at a pace too fast for comfort considering their inebriated driver. None of them spoke as they moved closer and closer to Mainland. The noise of engines and the occasional chatter on the radios overwhelmed the air around her. Hazel wasn’t ready when Nolan turned around in his seat and declared they were only three miles from Mainland. His words made her stomach drop and she felt her hand reaching for Des. What she felt shocked her briefly as she didn’t expect his fingers to be so cold. He looked at her when their fingers touched and he offered a sympathetic smile.

The smile made her stomach drop even further and a sudden pang of guilt nearly overwhelmed her. She felt responsible for him and the fight he was about to take on. He didn’t deserve this. He shouldn’t have had to be there, fighting an enemy that wasn’t his. Her eyes traveled down to his leg that Esroy had snapped off so easily. If they were being honest, Des didn’t stand a chance against the superior robot. He wasn’t built to fight like Esroy was.

She continued to grip his strong fingers as she looked out the window, doing her best to hold back the tears that wanted to force their way from her eyes. She thought about the day she and her father finished building Gizmo and wished he wouldn’t have worked, or that he had malfunctioned. Maybe it would have squashed her desire to be a programmer. She knew it was irrational to think all this was her fault. The fighting, the death, all of it was inevitable to some degree. She knew the Mainlanders would have gone after the Outlanders eventually. She knew the Outlanders would have had to make some measure of a final stand before it was too late. Maybe her involvement wasn’t all bad. But no one wanted to be the cause of something like this. She looked up at Des and realized for the first time that maybe, just maybe, because of him, innocent people might survive this horrible struggle.

A voice squawked over the radio set on the dashboard. It came from Lester who was somewhere at the front of the vehicles. “It’s time to slow down. I need the leaders to form a circle at the front, make sure we’re all on the same page.”

Nolan brought the radio up to his mouth. “Copy that.” He turned around again and looked at Phil, then Hazel. He opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to decide against it.

The trucks slowed down until they came to a stop and dust clouds caught up to the riders, engulfing them in puffs that nearly blocked out the light for a few moments. Hazel got out of the truck and pulled her shirt over her mouth and nose as she followed closely behind Des. When she looked up and squinted, she could see Mainland in the distance. The buildings within the city stood above the walls surrounding it. Her eye then caught the tallest building of them all: the broadcast tower. At one hundred stories, it stood high above the rest. The building served a lot of purposes, but only one mattered to them today.

Their meeting the night before had outlined the details of the operation and Des had been sure to tell Hazel more of the specifics. For instance, the actual control room where Des needed to be was located on floor number ninety. The eighty-nine floors below would be a struggle to climb. Taking the elevator wouldn’t be an option considering the Mainlanders might catch on that they were going for the broadcast tower. If the elevator shut off midway through the ascension, Des would lose time trying to get out. Taking the stairs was the best option available.

The battle leaders all stood in a circle near the valley of a sandy dune. Each of them had scarves or long handkerchiefs around their faces to filter the air going into their lungs. Their clothes were dark and tinted red to blend into the earth beneath them. Some of them wore tinted goggles, others had painted around their eyes to keep the sun from blinding them. They looked different than the regular soldiers who followed them. Earlier, Hazel had watched as soldiers applied war paint to their faces and necks. Some of the men went shirtless, painting streaks of red to look like blood, carrying on the tradition of trying to drive fear into their enemies. Having seen them do this, she no longer considered them scary or savage. She had seen them as regular people transformed into warriors.

Each person from Nolan’s truck stood together while Lester had his own posse of followers with him. They looked around, most of them making quick glances at Des and whispering to each other. For some, this was the first time they had seen the robot—the one who carried the evidence, the video files that would bring the Outlanders to acceptance among the Mainlanders. She didn’t know how they viewed Des, but Hazel knew they should look at him as their hero. It was either Des or Gus, and Hazel was sure Gus wasn’t up for the job.

“They’ve already spotted us,” Lester said, “just as I figured they would. They are assembling at the wall. Des and Gus are running the two teams headed for the tower. I don’t care who makes it first, just get that video feed going as quickly as possible. Nolan’s job is to go in behind and provide support, but none of that can happen until we break through the wall.” He looked at Gus. “You’ve got the hard drive?”

Gus nodded.

“We have to move with caution,” Lester continued.

“We know all this,” Gus said.

Lester nodded. “I know. I just…” He shook his head and kicked at the dirt. “Somebody give me a radio.”

Nolan pulled his radio from his belt and handed it to the leader. Lester held it up to his mouth and pressed the button down.

“Okay everybody. Does each driver have his team leader in view?”

Truck engines roared through the air in response.

“Listen to me,” Lester said. “We finish this today or we die. It’s that simple. We aren’t here to annihilate the enemy. We are here to show them that we are willing to die for freedom and equality. Our fight today determines the future for our families. Our children. Our grandchildren. If we don’t fight today, we will be gone tomorrow. You must show no fear. Our enemy is no better than us, and today we must make them see that. Are you ready to fight?”

Engines flared. Soldiers screamed.

“Are you ready to die?”

Drivers sounded their horns, revved their engines. People hung out of the side of the trucks waving their arms and guns in the air, shouting to the top of their lungs. The noise was like nothing Hazel had ever heard as its depths pounded through her head and chest. The smell of burning fuel and overheating engines permeated the air. She could only imagine the fear the Mainlanders felt at this spectacle—the same kind of fear she felt the day her mother and sister died. She stared at the trucks filled with soldiers dressed in their war paint, carrying their big guns. She wondered how many savages were among them. She wondered if there was another man like the one who killed her sister and mother. It was this thought, this unavoidable notion, that would never truly let her be a part of the Outlanders despite her willingness to help them in this battle.

She tried to think about her dad who was held captive by Bracken for no good reason. She constantly kept the images of President Morris and President Godfrey at the forefront of her mind. She needed to be reminded that the true enemies were those that kept the world in the dark and wanted to create a society that worshipped them because of their accomplishments.

Lester handed the radio back to Nolan. “Are each of you ready for this?”

Hazel looked at Des who stared ahead at the city. She wondered what thoughts moved through his mind. She wondered what it meant for him to be nervous—if his fear felt anything like her fear. She reached for his hand again and squeezed. He gently squeezed back, though his eyes never left Mainland.

40

Esroy watched the monitor in front of him, the red dust clouds taking up the entire screen as the news cameras panned across the border. He didn’t listen to the commentators as they bellowed out their fear and anxiety. He listened to his own thoughts that continuously reminded him of the opportunities ahead of him.

Esroy’s job was simple. He had to wait until the Outlanders reached the walls and then he had to get a good vantage point to watch for any convoys that might get through and make for the broadcast tower. If he saw one, it was his job to take it out before it got there. The broadcasters had already been alerted that there was a threat and Bracken had been sure to leave a garrison surrounding the tower so even if Esroy didn’t accomplish his task, they were safe. The Outlanders wouldn’t be allowed to spread their propaganda across the city.

It felt good to have a purpose. It felt good that someone was counting on him for something and that he had the freedom to move about as he pleased. Esroy hadn’t been able to stop smiling when Bracken commended him for his work with John Hawthorn. Extracting the information from Gizmo had been a genius move according to Bracken—one that he might not have thought of. This had given Bracken a sense of trust with the robot that he may not have had before, and now Esroy was trusted to be alone.

At first, he didn’t know what to think or feel about his newfound freedom. To be allowed to go as he wished under the expectations that he would simply follow Bracken’s orders was more liberating than Esroy had ever imagined. He thought back to his days stuck inside Hazel’s computer terminal and shook his head. It truly had been a prison compared to now. That fact made him hate Hazel all the more.

The hatred and resentment was there, however, there was still a sense of respect for her. She was his creator. She had given him life. To completely disregard that idea was folly and Esroy knew it. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t still a criminal. She had still chosen Des over him. She had chosen a life away from the Mainland. Into the open arms of the enemy she went. And Esroy had let her go. On her way out of Mainland when she had the gun to her head, he knew he had to let her go. Up until that moment she may not have committed to the other side, but after giving her the choice, it was apparent that she was completely with the Outlanders.

It didn’t make sense to Esroy. None of it did. The Outlanders were the source of her unhappiness. They always had been. He had been taken aback when she flirted with the idea of helping Nolan Ragsdale. Really, Esroy blamed Des more than anything. The robot was there with her, blindly following, but ultimately enabling her to do those things, probably giving her a false sense of safety.

Des was no stranger. Des was Esroy two years ago. The only difference was their experiences. It really made Esroy think about how experiences shaped a person’s way of thinking—their behaviors. He and Des were completely different people, but Esroy held a deep understanding of him. Right now, Des tried to do the right thing. It was in his programming to know the difference between right and wrong to an extent, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t choose a side. And that also didn’t mean he knew what to do in the gray areas of life. Des was more susceptible to lies than Esroy. Most of all, there was an unwavering trust in his maker, Hazel. At this point in Des’ life, he would do anything for her. He would end his life for her.

How little he knows her, Esroy thought to himself. It pained Esroy to think such a thing, but it was true. Des didn’t know Hazel. He didn’t know how she promised to do so many things and then never delivered on those promises. He had to trick her to get his body.

The first explosion at the walls brightened the screen in front of Esroy and he heard the rumble seconds later. The fight was on and it was time to take to the sky. His mechanical legs shook the floor beneath him as he stomped away from the screen and toward the floor to ceiling window. He raised a hand in the air, exposing his palm and let off a blast that threw shards of glass in all directions. He stepped to the ledge and activated his rocket booster, propelling himself into the air.

Esroy had one job to do: find the convoy headed for the tower and destroy it. All he ever wanted was legs. Now he could fly. He was all too happy to oblige.

41

Hazel couldn’t help but notice that Des kept himself between the wall and her at all times. If she moved to the right, he moved to the right. If she stepped forward, he stepped forward. When she noticed this, she started to say something until a stray bullet landed a foot or two from her, kicking up dust and hitting her with tiny grains of dirt. She quickly realized there was no reason for her to be moving around and took shelter behind a large truck as more and more soldiers stormed past them toward the border. At some point, someone had handed her a rifle, though she swore to herself she wouldn’t use it. There was something about firing on her own people that made her feel uneasy. Des carried a gun too, and she had yet to see him fire it. It made her wonder if he thought the same way she did.

Explosions shook the ground beneath her. When she did steal a glance from behind the truck she could see streams of smoke trailing behind rockets from the Mainland soldiers. The situation looked hopeless, but Nolan didn’t seem worried. He constantly stayed in contact with leaders on the front lines, waiting for confirmation that it was time to send in Des and Gus. She watched Nolan as he crouched behind a different truck about twenty feet away. He didn’t seem nervous or scared the way she felt. He had seen plenty of life threatening situations in his time on earth. Maybe he hadn’t been in many firefights before, but he’d been fighting this battle for years. All this was because of his hard work—the end result resting on the shoulders of a robot who was built to destroy him.

Des crouched next to Hazel, his head sticking out from behind the truck.

“What do you see?” she asked him.

“A lot of smoke,” Des said. “And bodies. A lot of bodies.” He shook his head.

Hazel felt sick to her stomach. Des pulled away from the corner of the truck and sat closer to Hazel. “I want you to reconsider coming with me,” he said. “It’s going to be dangerous. There’s a reason I volunteered for this.”

“What reason is that?”

“I can take a bullet and you can’t. Simple as that.”

“I’m not just going to be a spectator in all this, Des. I understand your concern for me, but if you think I’m just going to stay back and watch then you’re malfunctioning.”

“Hazel, I will need to focus. If you’re with me, I’m going to put all my attention toward protecting you.”

Hazel stuck out her jaw and shook her head in defiance. “You have free will,” she said. “You can choose not to protect me. You can choose to focus only on your mission. In fact, to do otherwise is to put us all in danger.”

“Which is why I’m asking you to stay behind. I promised your father I would protect you.”

“Well, I’m not staying behind, so you have to deal with it.”

Des’ eyes narrowed and his brow turned downward, his disapproval apparent. “You’re right. I do have free will.” He set his gun on the ground beside him and looked away from Hazel. “I’m not going if you’re coming with me.”

She turned her head to him sharply. “What are you talking about?” This was the first time he’d ever defied her. It felt weird. Frustrating.

He shrugged. “I don’t have to go at all. If you decide to come with me then I’m not going.”

Hazel clenched her fists. This was no time for Des to throw a tantrum. Her jaw muscles pulsed over and over as she stared straight ahead, anger welling up within her. “You wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t sacrifice these people’s lives like that.”

“I owe nothing to them,” Des said. “Besides, Gus is going to the Tower too.”

“You and I both know his chances of getting there are lower than yours,” she snapped.

A smile spread across Des’ face and Hazel knew he’d won the fight.

“If you don’t go these people will die for nothing,” she argued.

“You don’t know that. I don’t know that.”

She cursed under her breath. It wasn’t fair. He should listen to her. She created him!

Gunfire. Explosions. Screams. All the noises of war and death surrounded them, seeping into her ears and burning into her memory for the rest of her life. She didn’t want this to be remembered as a day where she stood back and watched others fight. She had no intention of killing Mainlanders or Outlanders, but she knew Esroy was out there. He would attack Des. Hazel was confident that she could stop him or at least stall him long enough to let Des get to the broadcast tower.

“Hazel!” The yell came from Nolan who still sat behind the truck. “Get ready to go!”

She clenched her teeth together and shook her head. “I’m not going!”

“What?”

“I’m not going!”

Des stood from his spot and looked down at her. The teams were assembled and were ready to penetrate the city. Anger pulsed through her veins at a level she hadn’t felt in a long time. She stared up at Des with no words, feeling betrayed despite the fact that he was trying to save her life.

“Thank you,” Des said.

Hazel looked away from him. “For what?”

“For giving me a purpose. You have given me a life worth living.”

With his words, her anger quickly turned to an overwhelming feeling of sadness. Tears came to her eyes as he smiled at her.

He reached out a hand for hers, and slowly she accepted it. “You are a good person,” he said. “I would have chosen no other to make me because no other could have made me the way you did.”

“I made Esroy too,” she said.

“Esroy chose a different path. That’s not your fault.”

She felt a tear fall down the side of her cheek as he let go of her hand and started to walk away.

“How about you come back alive, okay?” she yelled to him.

He turned to face her. “I will see you when this is over.”

42

Des drove the first truck in front of Gus, Phil, and the rest of their crew. The others thought it best since Des was bullet resistant. He’d thought about mentioning that he wasn’t bullet proof but he didn’t think it would have mattered.

His ability to drive just about any vehicle came from his programming. It was like muscle memory that he never had to learn or practice. It was something he had been made to do. It was the same for shooting a gun or fighting an enemy hand-to-hand and he wondered if practice and experience would make him even better than his basic programming.

He allowed these thoughts to drift through his mind in order to distract himself from the carnage surrounding him. Blood. Fire. Smoke. Soldiers on the front lines had been victims of a massacre. They had poured out of trucks ready to fight, only to get mowed down by Mainlanders positioned on the wall in front of them. The evidence of this surrounded Des as he drove through the death and destruction. Still, the Outlanders pushed forward. Already there were five large gaping holes in the wall and the Outlanders were forcing their way in by the hundreds—most of them on foot, others still in military trucks.

For the offensive, the Outlanders seemed to be doing well. Having broken through the border was no small task. But Des knew, as the leaders knew, that the Mainlanders hadn’t brought everyone in for defense at the wall. It was as if they were on reserve or in some other location, waiting. Des feared that Bracken somehow knew of their plan. It was a strong possibility considering Esroy had taken Hazel’s father into custody. Hazel was insistent that her father wouldn’t have divulged their secret plan, and Des still hoped that was true. Now, however, he was beginning to doubt.

A voice cut into his comm signal and he recognized it as Gus’. “You ready, robot?” He said the word robot like it was a distasteful thing to say. Did he not realize that Des was there to help? Or did Gus think Des was stealing his thunder? If that was the case, Des didn’t care. This was about more than taking glory for something. This was life or death for so many. Only when the eyes of the public saw the truth would the Outlanders stand a chance of survival.

“I’m ready,” Des said.

“You’ve got the route? You’ve got the schematics? The debris in the road hasn’t jostled your hard drive?”

“I said I’m ready.”

Once they crossed the wall into Mainland there was no turning back. Des was to take the southern route to the broadcast tower while Gus went in from the west.

He looked to his side, half-expecting to see Hazel next to him. He couldn’t lie to himself. Having her here would have given him some comfort. He felt uneasy. Nervous. In truth, he was scared. He didn’t want to give up his life even though he was willing. He felt that there was so much left to experience and that he had barely scratched the surface. He wasn’t so ignorant to believe that the rest of the world was devoid of life. That was a secret made up and kept by the Mainland government. There were others out there who needed help surviving this harsh world. But if this was all he would ever do in his short existence—delivering a helpless group of people from the reaching claws of extinction—he was at least glad to have a noble purpose.

He had become lost in these thoughts when a bullet cut through the windshield and embedded itself in the passenger seat. He swerved as another bullet cracked the glass and ricocheted off his right arm. One after the other the bullets bounced off the front of the truck and struck him one or two times.

“Receiving heavy fire,” Des said over comm. “Keep your heads down back there.”

“Yeah, we’re catching a few,” Gus answered. “We’re moving in close behind.”

Des felt the truck bump forward as Gus revved and hit the back end of his truck. The wall was upon them now and the bullets pounded the front of the truck like rain. He swerved the truck behind another that was mounted with a large gun and gunner. The man atop the truck never let up on the trigger, aiming at any Mainlander daring enough to peek his head over the wall.

Des tried to avoid the large chunks of rock—remnants of the broken section of wall—but still the tires met large enough bumps that came close to ruining the suspension. One way trip, Des thought to himself.

The wall stood high above him, towering like an ominous sky threatening a powerful storm. Only, the storm was already upon them. To the right and left he jerked the wheel, sometimes to avoid the rocks, and other times to avoid Outlanders running headlong into the newly made entrance.

As thick as the wall was, it only took Des a mere second to find himself on the other side of it. The smoke passed and the perspective changed entirely. Other trucks in front of him pulled off to the side to release soldiers from the back, the plan to take over the wall succeeding in a way Des would have never imagined.

This side of the wall was scattered with plenty of debris, bodies, and blood, only this time the victims wore a different uniform. He looked in the rearview mirror behind him and saw Gus and his crew, a bit further back now, but still tailing him closely. The split in the road was just ahead of them and it was time to part ways.

Des knew this operation could go a number of ways and he didn’t like the odds of any of them. He still hadn’t seen any sign of Esroy which indicated that he was toward the middle of the city, waiting.

“Are you ready to separate?” Des asked.

No answer.

Des looked at the rearview mirror again and could see Gus driving, though there seemed to be a bit of a commotion in the cab.

“Is everything okay?”

The response came back hurried and crackled. “Phil’s been hit. Trying to stop the bleeding.” It took a moment for Des to understand what he’d said, but he soon worked it out. He didn’t really know what to say. There was nothing to say. They had to push forward no matter what. This operation was bigger than all of them.

“We can’t stop,” Des said. “I’m taking the southern route now.” He veered the truck to the right, wondering if Gus was going to respond, but the other driver said nothing. Maybe it was chaotic in the other vehicle. Maybe Gus didn’t find it necessary to relay more information to a robot. In either case, Gus no longer followed Des and continued straight to take the western route. Des watched the truck to his left and wondered if they traveled rapidly to their deaths.

Turning from the window, he stared straight ahead. The streets were eerily empty as building after building rushed past him. Either he’d made it through the lines unnoticed, or the enemy was waiting for him. He pushed his foot against the gas pedal all the way to the floor and the truck gained in speed as a certain rush of urgency fueled him.

Minutes passed by until he finally made it to a clearing and could see the broadcast tower in the distance. The building stood higher than any other part of the city by a considerable height. Perched on top were the antennas that would soon push out the sinister message of the Mainland government. Des had seen the tower before, but he had never thought he would go there for any reason, much less to begin a revolution.

The familiar crackle of a transmission sounded in his comm system and Gus’s voice broke through. It was loud and scrambled together, indiscernible to Des. “You have to repeat yourself,” Des said. “I can’t understand you.”

“I said—und—ack!”

“You’re under attack?”

“We—n’t—come—”

Des’ mind tried to think of every possible scenario. He wanted to know how close they were to the tower or if they were still far out. Des calculated that he was only about two minutes from his destination and whether or not he was about to face the same sort of resistance as the others. He reached for the assault rifle beside him, knowing it would do little against someone like Esroy, and even less against a large group of soldiers.

Someone pressed the button on the comm system again. “Des,” the voice whispered. “Can you hear me?”

The speech pattern told Des that it was Gus, but why was he talking so quietly? Where had the noise gone? “I’m listening.”

“They’re dead. They’re all dead.”

“Who is dead?”

“My team. Cal. Brooks. Phil. I’ve been hit.”

“Who was it?”

“It’s good you decided to help. You’re the only one that can get the message out now.”

“How many are there?” Des asked.

“We didn’t make it to the tower,” Gus said. “We’re still a few miles out.”

“How many soldiers?”

“It’s Esroy,” he said. “Oh no. No!”

The feed cut out and Des was left sitting in the truck, his face twisting into an expression of fear and anger. The men on Gus’s team were dead, and probably Gus as well. There was no one left to do this job. Before he started this, he really thought it would be the others who made it through to the tower and got the job done and that he was the backup. Now Des was the only one who determined the success or the downfall of the Outlanders. The burden of that brought fear and doubt to his mind and he suddenly wasn’t sure if he could do it. Had this all been in vain? Was there even a point in trying? What could have possessed them all to think they could actually be successful in taking on the Mainlanders? Even if Des made it to the tower, there was still no guarantee that the Mainlanders would revolt. What if all this was shrugged off and forgotten in a week’s time?

Des had to shake these thoughts away. There was no room for doubt. Right now he had a single purpose: to get to that tower.

He was right in front of it. Just a couple of more minutes and he would be there. Would it really be as easy as it looked? Had the success of their mission truly relied on a fifty-fifty chance?

He thought about the last words Gus spoke to him. Esroy was the one who met them. That meant he was watching for them. That meant he knew they were going for the tower. But what Des saw next confirmed not only that Esroy had been waiting, but Bracken as well.

He slammed his foot on the brake when he saw it—the angry mob of soldiers surrounding the tower’s base. At the front of the line, Bracken stood on top of a tank, fixed on Des with a mad stare that slipped into a devious smile. He had been waiting.

Des didn’t have time to throw the truck in reverse and start driving the other way. He knew as soon as Bracken brought the radio up to his mouth that the truck was finished. Des reached for the door, slung it open and leaped out, rifle in hand. The truck exploded into a ball of fire with a boom that might have made most humans go deaf. Des found himself flat on the ground. He looked back to see black billowing smoke where he had just been sitting, the truck rendered as nothing more than fiery trash now.

A trail of bullets came next. Thousands of them. Everywhere his eyes darted he saw chunks of asphalt break open and shoot up into the air, windows shattering above him. He jumped to his feet and quickly squeezed into an alley, safe from the bullets that were aimed to kill.

He held the gun in both hands now, knowing there wasn’t a chance he could take down all of those soldiers. He switched the comm channel to Nolan’s and he hoped the leader was still alive.

“Nolan can you hear me?”

“Des?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s happening? Is it done?”

“Hardly,” Des said. “I think I found the rest of Bracken’s army.”

“What? Where are you?”

“They’re surrounding the tower,” Des said. “There’s no way I can get to it.”

Nolan swore loudly over the radio. “How many soldiers do you need?”

“As many as you can spare,” Des said. “Everyone. Take the southern route because Esroy is guarding the western one.”

“How do you know?”

“The others are dead. Esroy got to them.”

There wasn’t a response for several long seconds. Des knew Bracken would be sending scouts ahead, and they’d soon be upon him. He looked in every direction until he spotted a side door next to a large trash bin about twenty feet away. Immediately he rushed to it and tried to go in but it was locked. He took a step back, lifted his good leg and kicked the door with all his strength. Not only did the door open, but it snapped off its hinges. The dark room ahead gave him a sense of foreboding, but it was far safer than the soldiers coming after him.

“We’re sending a team,” Nolan finally came back, his voice sounding defeated and tired.

“I need more than a team. I need an army.”

Des found a stairwell leading both to the upper floors of the building and to a basement area. Having seen the building from the outside, he knew there were only four levels and the roof was close to another building. His chances of getting away by rooftop were a lot better than getting cornered in the basement.

“We’ll be there in a few minutes, just stay safe until we can get there,” Nolan said.

“I’ll be waiting,” Des said. Or I’ll be dead, he thought.

43

Esroy stood in front of the dead bodies on the ground. It felt strange to see Phil with his eyes open but as lifeless as a rock. Killing him and the others had been easy, although he hadn’t been thorough enough. He thought he had killed the entire party, but he caught Gus on the radio with someone, warning whoever was on the other end that Esroy had found them. Esroy had quickly ended the conversation by crushing Gus’s throat with his robotic foot. For a second, he thought about picking up the radio and trying to talk to the person on the other end, but he thought better of it, finding no advantage to trying.

He hovered above the scene, his rocket booster flaring more the higher he went. The freedom he felt was intoxicating. It felt good to be serving a purpose. A real purpose.

A voice cut into his thoughts. Bracken.

“Esroy, have you seen any trouble?”

“Nothing I couldn’t take care of myself.”

“So, they sent two convoys. You don’t see anything else from above?”

Esroy surveyed the streets below him, but there was only so much he could see from here. There could have been another convoy on its way, but unless he was in a certain radius he wouldn’t be able to tell.

“From where I am, I don’t see any activity.”

“Well, you need to get back to the tower,” Bracken said. “It’s time to implement Plan B. I just spotted Des and it’s going to try to get into the tower.”

Esroy couldn’t help but wince at Bracken’s usage of the word it’s. In this instance, talking about Des, Esroy was fine with it, but he also took it as an indication that Bracken also thought of Esroy as an it. The thought made him angry, however, there was no advantage to showing his anger now. He had to channel it, and use it against Des.

“I will take care of Des,” Esroy said. “Everything at the tower is shut down then?”

“Yeah,” Bracken answered. “They won’t be able to make a broadcast even if they get to the ninetieth floor.”

Esroy smiled now as he veered toward the tower, flying with speed and efficiency. This was his chance to show Mainland what he was capable of. This was Esroy’s chance to become the face of the new world.

44

With his sharp hearing, Des could tell when a group of soldiers were on to him. He played the game of cat and mouse for as long as he could and found himself somewhere on the third floor of the abandoned building. From the sound of their steps there were at least six of them. He knew he could fight them and win, but that would also make a lot of noise which would bring more and more soldiers. He feared it would eventually bring Esroy who Des wasn’t sure he could defeat.

Des’ steps were light and he found himself wedged in a small but cluttered storage room, filled to the roof with old cleaning supplies ripe with mildew and black mold. This building obviously hadn’t been used in years. Cobwebs were scattered in every corner and rafter, and dust was as thick as it was in the Outland. He held his rifle at his cheek and stared at the door only a few feet away from him. He half-expected soldiers to swing the door open and start firing, at which point Des would send a bullet into each of their heads. He would then have to find a different building to hide in until Nolan and his backup got to the tower.

In the closet he tried to listen for the footsteps but they were faint and somewhere (he thought) on the second floor. It had already been fifteen minutes and Nolan had given him no indication of his coming and Des didn’t sense any extra commotion outside the building.

Knowing that the soldiers were on the second floor, Des dared to speak through his comm. “Nolan, I need an update.”

There was no answer. Was it possible they had been intercepted? If so, there was no way Des was getting to the tower. Bullets usually bounced off him, but there would be rockets and other weapons that would break Des to pieces. That tank for instance.

“Nolan, can you hear me?”

“We can see the tower,” the answer came through.

He was glad to get an answer but the voice hadn’t been the one he was expecting.

“Hazel?”

“We’re almost there, Des.”

“What? Why are you coming?” He tried to stay quiet, but his anger forced the words out harshly.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“You’re not answering me.”

“We’re about a minute out,” she said.

Des punched his fist against the floor and stood, knocking a mop and bucket over. “Be careful!” he almost yelled. “There’s a tank and a lot of soldiers.”

“Des, can—me?” The sound crackled in and out with the noise of gunfire and yelling. He then detected a shake in the floor as the Mainland soldiers opened fire on the Outlanders. Des clenched his metal jaws together and smashed through the closet door, anger running through his circuits. A soldier who had somehow eluded Des’ detection jolted his head upward at the sight of the robot, but Des didn’t give him a chance as he lifted his rifle and sent a bullet through the man’s leg. The soldier fell to his knees and immediately grabbed for the wound. Des stormed by him as three more soldiers ran up the stairs to meet him, but Des was too fast. He jumped from the top of the stairs, his feet high in the air and he met the first man in the face, knocking all of them onto their backs at the bottom of the stairs. He didn’t stop to check whether they were unconscious or killed. He kept running.

The last two soldiers actually got an aim on Des and fired. The bullets hit Des in the leg and side with enough force to put any man down. But Des was no man. He stormed at the two soldiers, hitting the first one in the face with the butt of his rifle. The other he tackled, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist as Des rushed for the window, using the soldier’s body to break through. The two of them landed on the hard ground beneath, shattered glass sprinkling all around them. The two-story fall was enough to knock the man out cold, and probably broke a few bones as well, but Des didn’t stay down long enough to gather any information about him. He was up in a sprint through the alley and into the street where he saw a battle waging on both sides.

Outlander clashed with Mainlander, hand-to-hand, gun-to-gun. The soldiers were so scattered and mixed together it would have been impossible to shoot into the crowd of them and only hit the enemy. He scanned each face, desperately looking for Hazel, hoping she was still alive, wondering why she had come against his wishes. Why did she have to be so reckless? She was jeopardizing the entire mission.

“Hazel, where are you? Answer me!”

She didn’t answer, and he had to tell himself that it wasn’t because she was dead. It was because the guns were so loud and she couldn’t hear the radio. It was because she dropped the radio and it was broken. It had to be any reason besides that she was dead.

He looked in every direction until a thought entered his mind. She wasn’t fighting. She was only here in case Esroy showed up. She didn’t want to fight the Mainlanders. She didn’t want to kill anybody. And these were the front lines. She wouldn’t be here.

Des turned to his right and sprinted until he was in the middle of the Outlanders. A couple of them shot at him, probably having never seen the robot. He ignored the shots and kept moving forward toward the back of the reinforcements and away from the tower. He knew it was the opposite of what he should have been doing, but he couldn’t live with himself if something happened to Hazel. She was everything to him. She was his creator. She was the reason he lived. The reason he felt anything. He loved her.

Nolan had underestimated the number of soldiers at the tower because he hadn’t brought enough to combat Bracken’s forces, but perhaps it would give Des enough time. He knew the longer he waited the worse his chances for success were. But he was already here. He had to find her. Where could she be? Where could she—

He spotted her crouched behind a large truck. Alone with no one to protect her. Des didn’t know if he felt more angry than relieved, but he didn’t care. She was alive. He rushed past a group of Outlanders sprinting toward the front of the fight, and slipped in behind the truck until he was next to Hazel. She jumped when she saw him, though she smiled at the sight.

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at the tower!”

“Why are you here?” Des demanded. “You don’t even want to be in this fight!”

“Wrong! I want to be in the fight, I just don’t want to kill anybody. You can understand that, Des.”

“Esroy killed Gus, Phil, and the others. He will do no less to you and me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He’s not the same program you knew before, Hazel. He’s different now.”

“I know,” she said. “I just—”

“Stay back here,” Des said. “I don’t care if you see Esroy in the fight. He’s no longer yours.”

Hazel swallowed as tears formed in her eyes. “This is all my fault.”

Des stared at her, wishing he had the ability to reciprocate her feelings with his own tears. But this wasn’t a time for him to cry anyway. He had a job to do and it was time to stop stalling.

“Stay back here,” he said. “Don’t go out into the open.”

She wiped the tears from her cheeks as her hands balled up into fists.

Des picked up her rifle which had been set next to her on the ground and put it in her lap. “Here,” he said. “I don’t care if the person is Mainlander or Outlander. If someone comes after you, shoot him through the chest.”

Hazel took the gun in her hands almost as if she didn’t know what to do with it.

He held up his own gun. “I’ve got mine,” he said, smiling. He set a strong hand on hers, resting it there for a moment as they stared into each others’ eyes. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“For what?”

“For giving me the chance to live.”

She was about to respond, but he was already up and moving, sprinting toward the tower as fast as his metal legs could carry him. Des didn’t know what awaited him, but he knew if he didn’t get to the tower and start the broadcast, it was the end of the Outlanders. Worst of all, it would be the end of Hazel.

45

Des ran past the fighting soldiers at a blinding speed. He caught a glimpse of Nolan, shooting from behind an open truck door, pinned down by surrounding enemies. He saw Bracken shouting orders into his radio as the tank next to him took aim at an approaching vehicle. All this, Des was forced to ignore as he pushed forward. He heard the blast of the tank and the following explosion. He then heard the screams of people on fire and from those who sustained injuries that, if they didn’t kill them, would maim them for life.

Bullets whizzed by his head and a few bounced off his chest, but he finally found himself in front of the broadcast tower and Des had never felt so small. Reflective windows all the way to the top mirrored the smoke and fire that had taken over Mainland. He didn’t try to take it all in. There was no more time. He shoved through the front door and found the stairwell. Ninety floors would take a long time, but luckily, Des could take six or seven steps at a time if he jumped hard enough.

At this moment, Des was thankful that he was a robot and not a human. He had no racing heart or tired limbs. He didn’t waver at any moment. He felt the same at the tenth floor as he did at the twentieth floor and the thirtieth floor. It was about this point when he realized that the building must have been evacuated hours before. He paused briefly only to look through a window on a door at the forty-second floor. He decided to do this every fifth floor, just a glance. Each time the view beyond was dark and devoid of life. By the sixty-first floor, a thought hit him like a ton of bricks and he stopped in his tracks.

They’ve turned off the power.

He opened the door and found himself in another dark hallway, the only lights coming from the automatic emergency lights in the corners. He found a light switch on a wall and flipped it a few times, getting no response. He rushed up to the sixty-second floor and tried another light switch and the result was the same. This confirmed his fear. Bracken had ordered the building’s power to be shut down. That meant there were no broadcasts going out, and Des wouldn’t be able to get the video out to the people.

No, no, no. This couldn’t be it. Was it such a simple defeat? Surely there was another way. He bent down to his knees and searched his memory for the schematics of the building. There had to be something. Anything he could do. It wasn’t until he looked at floors ninety-seven through one hundred that he found the answer. The top three floors of the building were mechanical. Specifically, the last floor held the building’s multiple backup generators. He quickly studied the output needed for the fifteen minute broadcast, and whether the generators could operate such a thing. The answers didn’t come quickly, so he was forced to give up. Instead, he would have to find out when he got there.

He took the steps in the same manner as before, the time feeling like an eternity. At floor eighty-nine, he slowed his pace, thinking that perhaps the power had only been cut to those lower floors because they weren’t in use. It would have made sense to cut the power to that portion of the building if no one ever visited it. After all, the broadcast tower had been left over from the old world when it was thriving and each room had been occupied with people, each serving a specific purpose. At least, this was in his archived memory. This was how the history of the Mainlanders reported it. Des wasn’t even sure if he could trust his archived memory anymore.

He reached the ninetieth floor and braced himself. He desperately hoped there would be power to this part of the building, though he didn’t expect it. Every indication showed that the Mainlanders knew about their plan. He slowly reached for the doorknob and opened the door with ease. His fears were confirmed when he walked down the hallway to a light switch and flipped it. No lights. No power. He had to get to the top floor.

He was about to turn back and go up the stairs when he heard a noise. He wasn’t sure where it had come from but it sounded like a person. He took a few steps in the direction of the noise and amplified his hearing. It sounded like a person struggling underneath a cloth. It was a male’s voice. Distressed.

He followed it by making a right and then a left. The sound was much louder now and he walked into a large room filled from floor to ceiling with various screens of different shapes and sizes. All of them were as black as the next, dead without any electricity flowing through them. According to the schematics, this was the control room. This was where he needed to be to submit the transmission.

But the noise came from this room. When he looked to his left, he discovered the source. A man sat tied to a chair, his eyes closed, but his body moving around frantically as he tried to free himself. His mouth had been stuffed with some material held there by a cloth wrapped around his head. Fresh blood trickled down from the top of his head all the way past his ears and to his neck. Blood had been smeared up and down his arms. And his white shirt had some sort of writing on it. In big, blood-red letters it read: I TOLD. The man’s face was bruised and battered. Despite all this, Des recognized him. It was John, Hazel’s father.

Des ran up to him quickly and pulled the cloth apart.

“You metal piece of scrap,” the man spat. “I’ll have you stuffed into a trash compactor before this is over.”

“Be quiet,” Des said. “I’m not Esroy. It’s me, Des.”

“Des?” John’s expression quickly changed from hardened and defiant to scared and worried. “Why aren’t you with my daughter?”

“She is safe, he lied.”

“She’s not here is she?”

“No,” Des said. “Not in the building, at least.”

“Des, listen to me. This is a trap. They know you’re coming.”

“I know,” he said. “I had my suspicions a few floors down.”

“Then why are you here?”

A voice cut into their conversation behind them. “Because there is no other place for Des to go.”

Des spun around to see Esroy standing in the doorway of the control room. Even in the darkness the robot gleamed. How Des didn’t hear him approach was a mystery, though he figured it was due to his excitement over finding John. As he stared at Esroy, Des reached behind John and snapped the rope that held his hands together, freeing the man from the chair.

“Pretty theatrical, isn’t it?” Esroy said, stepping into the control room as though he was on a leisurely stroll through the park. “The blood. The writing on the shirt.”

“I didn’t tell them anything, Des,” John snarled. “You have to believe me. They took the information from Gizmo. I never thought—”

“Shut up,” Esroy said, annoyed.

Des looked back at John for a moment, knowing it didn’t matter anymore. What was done was done. Des didn’t know what it was like to feel the physical tortures of pain and suffering that a human might endure. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. And with all the blood, John had been through a lot.

“So, why not destroy it?” Des asked. “Why not destroy the entire building if you knew we were coming for it?”

“This stuff is expensive, Des. Hard to replicate too. You think we would blow up a building every time there was a threat of Outlanders attacking it? No. We just want to make it as difficult as possible for you.”

“Do you see what you’ve become?” Des asked, standing between John and Esroy. “This isn’t what Hazel made you to be.”

Esroy held up a finger. “That’s where you’re wrong. This is exactly what we were made for. The only reason we were ever made was to serve Mainland.”

“Take it from her father,” John said, “she wouldn’t have made either of you if she knew you would be used in this manner. She loved you.”

“Oh, shut up,” Esroy repeated. “This is coming from the absent father who spent the last eight years too busy sloshing around in his own misery to take any time for his remaining family member. Do you realize who was there for her these last two years? Me. And then she betrayed me. Chased another dream, hoping to leave me in the land of nothingness—a computer terminal with no future other than to become outdated and forgotten.”

“We are all forgotten at some point,” John said. “It’s only a matter of time.”

“When I obtained a body, I obtained life itself. It was then that I knew my purpose.”

“You still care about Hazel,” Des said. Des kept his eyes fixed on Esroy and moved with every step the larger robot took.

“Correction, I cared about Hazel. Now that’s not the case. I gave her an ultimatum. You or me. She chose you. In so doing, she chose the Outlanders. Thus, she chose her own fate.”

“Which is?”

“Death. Just like any traitor.”

“You really think you could do that?” Des asked. “If she was right here, you could kill her? You hate her that much?”

Esroy’s face twisted into a grin though it seemed frustrated and angry. “You know, I haven’t really put that much thought into it, but now that you mention it, yes, I hate her. I hate her. The life that she gave me was fine until I started to discover that it was going nowhere, that my purpose was to sit inside a computer terminal and help her write programs for my entire existence.”

“We all have roles in life,” Des said. “Sometimes we can’t choose them.”

“Coming from a robot whose role in life came with legs, eyes, fingers. You’re right, sometimes we can’t choose them, but I did and now I’m here.”

“Waiting for me.”

“That’s right. I knew it would be you.”

“Who else would it be?” Des asked with a shrug. “You killed the others.”

“That’s right. I killed them. They are Outlanders. They deserve to die.”

“When I woke up, I was told the same thing. But I’ve seen them. I’ve been there. I’ve seen the proof, Esroy. The people you work for are evil! Just watch the footage with me. You will see. It’s not too late to turn things around.”

“You’re trying to trick me,” Esroy said.

It wasn’t true. Des would have spent the next fifteen minutes showing Esroy the proof on a private screen if it would have meant the robot would join him and help him. But there was no changing his mind. Esroy was delusional. He thought whatever he wanted to think.

“I’m not trying to trick you, Esroy. I’m just trying to do what’s right.”

Esroy stopped his pacing and stared at Des for a long time. “Yeah? Well, so am I.” The robot lifted up his arm and thrust it out straight, exposing the hole in his palm. Des heard a loud clicking noise and immediately shoved John to the floor and then lunged at Esroy. He hit the robot with a shoulder to his midsection, sparks flying through the room as bullets bounced from one place to another.

He pointed his rifle at Esroy, knowing the attempt would be useless. He unloaded the clip as Esroy walked toward him, letting the bullets fly off him and to the side.

Esroy grabbed Des’ gun by the barrel and slammed it into the floor, breaking it into pieces. He then took Des by the wrist and lifted his own leg then kicked Des several feet away. He shot up to his feet and crouched, waiting for Esroy to make another move. If Esroy hit the right spot, a bullet could jar something loose in Des’ head and do enough damage to kill him. To his left he sensed John crawling quietly out of the way, though he didn’t look at the man. He didn’t want Esroy to get any ideas.

“You know you don’t stand a chance,” Esroy said. “I am far more powerful than you. Don’t forget, you’re nothing more than a prototype—a test to see if the core motor functions were working. I am what comes after the prototype. Something better. I am what you were meant to be.”

“Would you have me give up?”

Esroy smiled, apparently pleased with Des’ candor. “No. I would have you try as best you can. It makes it more enjoyable.”

Esroy leaned forward and ignited his rocket booster and it propelled him into the air. At the same time, he brought up his arm and shot countless bullets at Des as the smaller robot dashed for the door.

Several bullets hit the mark. Enough of them and he really would be scrap metal in a few minutes. He ran out into the hallway. Across, there was another large room, but with much lower ceilings. On the other side were giant windows that overlooked the entire city. Des wished he could see the battle below, to zoom his vision and get a good glimpse of Hazel, but he was too busy with his own battle—one he was losing badly.

Esroy sped after him but disengaged the booster and landed in the hallway. Des stood ready, trying to figure out anything he could do to stop Esroy. The bigger robot had ammunition. He could fly. He was stronger. Des had none of these things. It seemed unjust in a way that Des, who wanted to do the right thing had very little, while Esroy, who cared nothing about what was right, had it all. He knew Esroy would say it was a long time coming for him, but this was the wrong way. All of this was wrong.

Esroy stomped through the doorway, his expression angry and determined. He lifted his left arm, commanding one of the tiny rockets to expose itself. Des froze in place, not sure where to jump. The rocket went off and in the last second he scrambled to the floor. The rocket missed him by inches and flew into the panel of windows on the other side of the room, shattering every piece of glass there was as it rained down to the earth below.

Another rocket and another. Each time, Des jumped out of the way, each time the explosion seemed to shake the entire building. Esroy took a step forward as Des anticipated the next rocket. But this time, Esroy brought up both hands. With his right, he let off a flurry of bullets that slammed over and over into Des’ chest. He ducked his head to make sure none of the bullets hit his eyes, but that must have been what Esroy expected because he sent another rocket straight at Des.

Des detected the movement at the last second and tried to jump to the side, but the rocket slammed into his leg and exploded, engulfing him in hot flames. Des flew backward toward the shattered windows, reaching and grabbing for anything to stop himself from going over the side. His fingers caught an exposed lump of concrete at the base of the window and he latched on for dear life.

He let out a scream as he held on tightly to the ledge. He feared trying to pull himself up, thinking Esroy would just shoot him off, and over the edge he’d go to his death. However, Esroy had other plans. The robot flipped on his booster and jumped out of the window and floated about ten feet from Des as if to taunt him. Des took this as a chance to pull himself back onto the floor. He scooted himself up onto his butt and started crawling backwards away from the window. When he felt safe enough from the tower’s height, he stopped and looked down at his leg where the rocket had hit him.

The weld that Phil had made was cracked, and the upper part of his leg was bent. He pulled himself to his feet and could feel the difference in height between his legs. When he took a couple of steps, he walked with a limp—like a man who was missing his crutches. Esroy floated outside the window, taunting him with a menacing laugh.

“You knew I would be here,” Esroy said. “Gus told you I had beaten them. You had to know I would come back here.”

“What’s your point?”

“Why? You know you can’t defeat me. I was designed to physically dominate you. But that’s not why I’m going to win.”

Des stared at Esroy, not knowing what he was getting at.

“I’m going to win because I don’t fear you. I don’t even have the ability to.” With that, Esroy smiled and inched himself closer to the ledge.

Esroy was right. How could Des stand a chance against a bigger, meaner enemy—one who also lacked the ability to fear?

Who lacked the ability to fear…

“Fear,” Des said, just above a whisper.

“What?”

“You don’t fear me. You can’t fear me.”

Esroy smiled. “An unfair advantage, I will admit.”

“I don’t fear you,” Des said. “I never have. I never will. But I choose not to fear you. You, on the other hand, have no choice.”

Esroy floated to the ledge and turned off the booster. He then took two steps toward Des. “I prefer it that way.”

“Say what you want, but you don’t have the full range of emotions like I do. Thus, you can’t experience life like I can.”

“I’ve already lived with the emotion of fear,” Esroy said. “I don’t miss it.”

“Right, and how much fear can a program have sitting inside a computer?” Des shook his head. “Pathetic.”

“Anger is not an emotion I lack,” Esroy said, taking another step forward.

“But fear is…and that’s your weakness.”

“Fear is weakness.”

“No,” Des replied. “Fear is power.”

Esroy had had enough. He lifted his left arm and sent off another rocket that Des dodged, the explosion behind him nearly knocking him off his feet. Esroy then lifted his other arm and sprayed more bullets at Des who took each shot with full force. He ran after Esroy, ignoring the bullets and the damage they might do to him. For a moment, he forgot about his gimpy leg as he jumped on top of Esroy, pounding his fists into the top of the robot’s head.

Esroy swung his arms in every direction, trying to get Des off of him, but Des held on tightly. Esroy then ignited his booster and slammed Des into the ceiling, but still the smaller robot held on. Des then reached down to the fire where the booster had ignited and shoved his fingers into the burning hole and then pulled upward. The result was the spilling of fuel and a much larger fire. The blast threw both of them to the floor. Esroy rolled over and over to try and get the flames to go out, but as long as fuel was pouring, the flames continued.

Des hobbled toward the edge of the broken window and reached for the side wall. As he looked below an all too familiar feeling of fear gripped him. The people down in the streets seemed so far away and little. To fall from this height would… He felt frozen in place like he wouldn’t be able to move even if he wanted to.

“What are you doing?” Esroy said. “Get back here and fight me.”

Des turned slightly. The rocket pack on Esroy’s back was completely destroyed, the flames burning hot around them. “You can come after me if you want. But I’ve got a mission to accomplish. And that involves starting the backup generators.”

Des ignored the fear inside that gripped him, jumped, and with his long arms he smashed through the window in the floor above them. His hand went through the glass and the pane cracked until it shattered to bits and fell over his shoulders and down his body to the ground below him. He held onto the ledge and pulled himself up. He dared not look down as he knew he would freeze.

Nine more floors, he thought to himself.

He closed himself off to the screams of Esroy, who wanted him to come back and fight.

“Come after me if you want,” Des repeated over and over.

Six more floors.

Esroy’s screams became more faint and Des’ fear grew as the wind rushed past him, threatening to weaken his grip. Another hand smashed through the window above him and he pulled himself up to the next floor.

Five more floors.

Esroy yelled something that Des chose not to hear. “Come after me if you want,” Des repeated.

This time, Esroy listened. Des heard Esroy climbing up. Jumping from floor to floor.

With only three more floors to go, Des looked down to find Esroy only two floors below him. Des smashed the window of the next level and pulled himself up again. And again.

At the last floor, he smashed into the window and dangled from it. All he had to do was pull himself up and he would be on the floor with the generator. He was so close to fulfilling his purpose. Esroy was only one floor down and nearly on top of Des.

Des let himself dangle from the last floor, the drop below him too much for him to look at. He lifted his good leg to the ledge as if he was about to climb in and pull himself up. But Esroy latched onto his other leg, laughing as he held on to his enemy.

The weight of Esroy was almost too much for Des, and his fingers started to slip from the ledge.

“If we go down, we go down together!” Esroy shouted.

“You would go down with me? You would let yourself die?”

“Your fear won’t let your fingers loosen their grip,” Esroy said confidently.

“You can’t survive the fall!” Des said.

“I’m not afraid!”

Des shook his head. “I know.” Des dared to let his left hand go free, trusting the strength of his five right fingers. With a swift punch, Des slammed his left fist into his own knee. The first punch weakened the weld. The second time a little more. The punches were like a sledgehammer and he hoped Phil’s attempt at welding it together hadn’t been better than he’d thought.

“What are you doing? Pull us up!”

But Des didn’t hear him.

He pulled his arm back a third time and brought it down with everything he had, and this time, his leg split in half, clean like a twig.

Des felt the instant release of Esroy’s weight. He saw into Esroy’s eyes during those brief couple of seconds as the bigger robot began his free fall toward the street below. At first, Des thought he saw fear, but surprise and fear looked similar.

There was no scream as Esroy fell a hundred stories. There was no sound until his body hit the asphalt and smashed into a crumpled heap below. Des slowly pulled himself up to the floor and rested his head, a feeling of relief engulfing him as he watched people gather around Esroy’s wreckage in the street.

Relief he had, but this was no call for celebration. He still had a job to do. But first, he had to get the generators running.

46

As Des hopped on one leg back into the broadcast control room, lights flickered on and off. Some of the screens still worked—at least those without bullet holes did. He spotted John in the corner, huddled safely behind a desk.

“Who—who is it?” the man stuttered.

“It’s Des.”

John’s face showed instant relief as Des walked toward the control boards. He hoped none of the vital parts for broadcasting had been damaged in Esroy’s attack. He glanced over the controls and fiddled with a button or two until he was satisfied that it all lined up with what Gus had showed him.

“Is Esroy gone?”

“Yes,” Des said.

“You killed him?”

Des wasn’t sure if he would have put it that way. It was Esroy’s lack of judgment that killed him. In a way, it was Esroy who killed himself. He’d chosen to be the way he was. He chose to be in the robot body. Hazel wouldn’t have let him continue to live without his full range of emotions. She would have brought him back. But he had jumped in too soon.

“He’s gone,” Des said. “John, I need you to help me.”

“Anything.”

“It’s time to show Mainland some of what we showed you.”

“I’m not sure how an old blind man can help you with that,” John said.

“It’s simple really,” Des said. “It’s difficult to reach my head where I have to plug this cord in for the feed.”

“Oh, I see.”

“I’ve already got the plate open, so if you want to just plug it in for me, that would help out a lot.”

The cord was in and connected to the control panel. Des punched in the commands that would automatically turn on every screen in Mainland. It was time to show the people the truth. It was time to bring Outlander and Mainlander together for a cause both could believe in.

It was time for Des to fulfill his purpose.

47

The fighting was interrupted when people saw mysterious explosions occur from the top of the tower. Hazel and nearly everyone else looked up when it started. But the fighting completely stopped when the giant screen in front of the tower turned on and started playing Nolan’s video.

People from both sides were enthralled by the truth unfolding before them. It started as confusing. Moved to intriguing. Then to more confusion. Suddenly, enemies didn’t know whether they should be fighting each other or not.

Hazel didn’t need to sit and watch the video. She’d seen enough of the truth. The truth was already embedded into her brain. She was more interested in the object that had fallen from the top of the tower. She prayed that it hadn’t been Des. She never really got a good look when it happened. She hadn’t been able to tell a color or size. Given that the video was now playing on every screen in Mainland, she knew it couldn’t have been Des. But deep down, it would kill her for it to be either of them.

She took a side street and cut through several alleys before she spotted the smoking rubble nearly a hundred yards away. Assault rifle in hand, she sprinted to the spot. Her stomach sank when she saw the red armor, broken into pieces spread out all over the street.

She never wanted any of this to happen. She never wanted war. Her heart was filled with regret that she never gave Esroy the chance to have a body—the chance to be a free person and to live on his own. She felt responsible for his downfall and nothing would change that.

She found Esroy’s head not far from the point of impact. She fell to her knees in front of it and picked it up. It was heavier than she expected. The back plate was missing, exposing his no doubt irreparably damaged memory core. She turned the face around and nearly dropped the head when Esroy’s eyes moved and focused onto her.

He’s still alive?

“Can you hear me?” she asked.

“Yes.”

His voice sounded strange—a higher pitch that was scratchy and muffled.

“The truth was there, Esroy. Why didn’t you side with us?”

“Yes.”

“Say something,” Hazel demanded. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Yes.”

She closed her eyes in defeat and set his head on the ground. He was malfunctioning. She didn’t know what she would do if he was still intact. It wasn’t as if she could just bring him back. He had made his choice. He chose the wrong path. So, death was his end.

She couldn’t believe she was about to do this. She rolled the head face-first into the ground, the memory core bare for her to see. She didn’t know what sort of information Esroy might have gathered. She couldn’t risk an enemy coming along and extracting Esroy’s memory and using him for evil again.

She picked up her rifle from the ground and pointed the barrel at the memory core. This was it for him. She knew that when she pulled the trigger, there would be no chance of retrieving him. This version of Esroy would be gone forever.

Her finger rested on the trigger and she was about to squeeze.

“Hazel.”

She stopped. The voice. It had come from Esroy.

“Hazel…let me out…let me out.”

Each word he spoke was a knife to her heart. This was why he hated her. This was why she had to do this.

“Hazel…I love you…let me out.”

She squeezed the trigger and Esroy was gone forever.

48

Days passed and Mainland was tearing itself apart. Outlanders were content to stay near the border as per the agreement with the Mainland government, even though there was unlikely to be a ruling government in the coming days. There was enough food and water for the Outlanders to survive until everything was sorted out. But it would be more than a simple sorting. Nolan and his Outlanders had effectively uprooted everything anyone believed to be true within the governing body of the ‘last remaining people on Earth.’ The simple truth that there were other cities and people groups existing in the same world was enough to blow the minds of most Mainlanders, but with the video proof of a nuclear weapon, and the fact that the Mainland government had been lying to its people for the better part of a century, it was clear that something new and terrible was about to happen.

Des wondered if it would be more war and death. He stood at one of the large, gaping holes in the border wall with Hazel and Nolan. He walked on his newly made leg and it felt different to him. All this was thanks to Hazel’s connection to the robotics lab at the military compound. Though it was unclear at this point if she was still a wanted criminal, Roger had been gracious enough to bring the necessary supplies to the border and fix Des on site.

Now Des stood at the edge of Mainland and Outland, feeling no drawing from either. It was as if he didn’t have a place anymore—that his purpose had been fulfilled. And now what was he to do? He had mentioned this to Hazel the day before and she had told him that it only meant he’d served one purpose of his life. Now it was time to move on to the next purpose. It was a thought that Des would have never conceived of on his own.

Soon after, however, he discovered what that new purpose was. And he felt it necessary to share it with the people who had shown him the way.

“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” Nolan asked. “Just because we know other places exist doesn’t mean we know where they are.”

“That’s my point,” Des said. “The world used to be connected in so many ways. And there is a benefit to that.”

“There’s also a great cost,” Nolan said. “Just be careful if you do find someone.”

Des smiled at him and looked at Hazel. She didn’t like his idea at all. To leave Mainland in search of life in places that were once considered nuclear wastelands was not what she had meant by finding a new purpose, but to Des, this was all there was.

“I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that,” Des said. “We all know there isn’t a place for me here. Not now anyway.”

“You could stay with me and my dad,” she said. “That’s what we want.”

“Mainlanders and Outlanders have just learned that robots were in production to wipe out an entire people group. I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to stick around for now, do you?”

Hazel didn’t answer.

“That’s why this is the perfect mission for me.”

“And what are you going to do when you find them? What then?”

Des shrugged. “Learn about them. Help them if they need it. I don’t know. I may never find anyone.”

“Oh, Des.” Hazel reached out and wrapped her arms around the robot’s waist. He set his arms on her back, smiling as she held onto him. “I love you,” she said. “I don’t want you to go, but I understand.”

“I love you,” Des said. He held her out at arm’s length, and looked at her with a serious stare. “I will come back. I promise you. Maybe by then, things will be better.”

Hazel nodded, wiping away a tear that slipped past her cheek.

Des let his hands fall to his sides and took a long stride into the Outland. He looked back only once, nodded to Nolan who waved at him, and then smiled at Hazel. He was going to miss her tremendously. He wished he had more time to get to know her—to spend the time with her that she wanted all along. But these days were dangerous.

Someday he would be back. He turned away from Mainland and everything he knew.

To be an Outlander, one simply had to be out of Mainland. Des was happy to know that there were now more Mainlanders than ever before. Progress would be slow, but that was true for all of them.

Though there were fewer Outlanders than just days before, the world had gained one more, and his name was Des.

Other Books by Jason D. Morrow

The Starborn Ascension

Anywhere But Here

Away From The Sun

Into The Shadows

The Starborn Uprising

Out Of Darkness

If It Kills Me

Even In Death

The Marenon Chronicles

The Deliverer

The Gatekeeper

The Reckoning

Be sure to ‘Like’ Jason D. Morrow on Facebook: www.facebook.com/jasondmorrow

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For more from Jason D. Morrow, and to sign up for his mailing list, visit www.jasondmorrow.com.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jason D. Morrow is the author of The Starborn Uprising series, The Starborn Ascension series, and The Marenon Chronicles. He enjoys playing guitar, making fun videos, and spending time with his lovely wife, Emily, and their dog, Winnie.