Android Paradox
Authors: Michael La Ronn
Android Paradox
Book 1 of the Android X Series
Michael La Ronn
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2015 © Michael La Ronn. Smashwords Edition. All rights reserved.
Cover Design: Dane Low
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Reproduction of this work in whole or in part in any manner without express written consent is prohibited.
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ANDROID PARADOX
When two equally intelligent androids face off against each other, who wins?
The year is 2300. Humans and androids live in peace after a devastating singularity and years of war.
Xandifer “X” Crenshaw is a special agent android for the United Earth Alliance. His job is to track down rogue androids and destroy them to keep the world safe.
When another android agent goes maverick and starts a killing spree, the fallout could shatter the alliance between humans and androids forever. X hunts him down, but what seems like a simple operation turns weird fast when X discovers that he’s up against something far more sinister that is just as intelligent as him. And whatever it is, is also holds the key to X's forgotten past.
The future belongs to humans and androids...or is that a paradox?
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Table of Contents
Other Books by Michael La Ronn
Chapter 1
“X, are you going to say anything, or are you going to sit there and stare out the window?”
X sat in the cockpit of the plane as it eased over the Caribbean Sea. He had been processing the conversation and heard every word, but at the same time, he was thinking of dead bodies and the mission ahead.
His partner, Shortcut, elbowed him from the pilot’s seat. “I hate it when you do that. Sometimes you’re too human for me.”
“Sorry.”
“I still can’t get over how cool your emotional program is.”
X continued his silence, shifting in his leather seat. He got that twitching feeling that swept over him at the beginning of missions like these—that feeling when he’d have to kill. His chips crunched a million potential scenarios as he loosened his black tie and set it on the dashboard. He ran one hand across his bald head and stroked his goatee with the other, a move he had observed from the commander of the android squad—a pensive gesture.
Shortcut coughed. “I can’t ever get used to the dry air in these ships. It just sticks in your throat, like an itch you can’t scratch.” He adjusted his cap, and his left iris lit up as data streamed across his contact lens. He wore a white button-up shirt loosely tucked into blue jeans. He was skinny and his cheeks were covered with brown freckles. “I’ve got a weird feeling about this mission. Maybe it’s because I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Yeah,” Shortcut said, yawning. “You androids don’t have to sleep. Don’t remind me.”
The dashboard beeped as they approached their destination. A four-dimensional map of an island appeared, blinking and rotating. A human face appeared in a square at the top left of the screen—a wizened, tanned face with a flat nose, green eyes, and a stern air. The man wore a military cap and a blue uniform with a golden pin of a winged Earth on his chest.
X and Shortcut nodded and said, “Fahrens, sir.”
“Brockway is still on the island. We’ve got ships around the perimeter. The mission is still a go.”
“We just arrived,” Shortcut said. “We’re just waiting for your orders.”
“Your mission is to kill,” Fahrens said, looking at X. “We need the black box.”
“Can you tell us exactly what happened again?” Shortcut asked.
“Two days ago, Richard Brockway, an android soldier in the United Earth Alliance, was on patrol in a shopping mall. We don’t know why, but he went berserk and started a massacre. He unloaded his ammunition, killing one hundred people without wasting a single bullet. Then he bludgeoned twenty people to death with a steel pipe before authorities arrived. He evaded the police, and he escaped the city by boat. He was last seen in Aruba before his black box was disconnected. Shortly after that, the entire island disconnected from the grid.”
“An android has never gone
that berserk
,” Shortcut said. “Not since the singularity of 2199.”
Fahrens kept his face blank. “That’s why we need the black box to figure out what went wrong. The Council needs to know if we’re dealing with an irregularity or something more serious.” He paused when he saw X staring out the window. “You’re awfully quiet, X.”
X unclicked the nylon seatbelt across his shoulders and stood up. He adjusted one of his wrists, sliding a ring of skin counterclockwise; it glowed as a gun inside his wrist warmed up, giving off waves of heat. “I just don’t understand why he did it.”
“I know Brockway was an acquaintance of yours,” Fahrens said. “I wouldn’t have sent you, but we’re short on agents. The rest of the squad is cleaning up Brockway’s massacre. We’re not going to be able to keep this contained for very long. When the public finds out, we’ll need to have answers.”
X nodded. “Brockway broke the UEA laws. Whenever an android kills a human without justification, he must die.”
“Good luck, you two,” Fahrens said. He disconnected and the screen went dark, replaced by the image of the island. The navigation panel beeped again.
Shortcut stood up and stretched. “We’re here.”
They walked down a long corridor to the back of the plane.
X pumped his fists several times, feeling his fingernails dig into his skin. He sensed Shortcut’s breath behind him—that quick, telltale gasp that signaled that a question was coming.
“It’s a double standard, don’t you think?” Shortcut asked.
“What?”
“What Brockway did. We’re going to destroy him for creating so much bloodshed, but if I killed you now, I’d only get a few years in jail.”
“And no connection to the grid,” X said. “For a human, that’s a fate worse than death.”
Shortcut rubbed the back of his head and grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re right. I’m probably irritating you with my questions.”
Shortcut
did
ask a lot of questions. Maybe it was because he was in the presence of an android, and humans always felt the need to talk more around them. Probably to fill the space of androids calculating their words a million times per second. But Shortcut was new to the UEA, and they’d only been working together for a few months.
Shortcut was his human assistant. He was X’s engineer; he fixed him and gave him upgrades. He also provided backup and tech support while on missions. X was the muscle, but Shortcut made the muscling possible. He always staked out locations ahead of missions and identified any problems ahead of time so that X could calculate how to get around them. Since Shortcut was a human, he could sneak into places undetected; X had the unmistakable signal of an android, and even though the UEA scrambled his signal every few hours, it was no use when he was up against another android.
Shortcut had been shy when they first met, but once he had warmed up to X, he never shut up. X didn’t mind—he filtered him out and answered the questions that mattered.
X grabbed a wetsuit off the wall and squeezed into it. The suit hugged his body and squeaked as he stretched his arms and legs. He detected the smell of fresh rubber, and Shortcut scrunched up his nose as the scent reached him. Then he strapped on a parachute. He walked over to a door in the wall with a touch panel in front. He placed his hand on it, and the door opened, revealing an arsenal of weapons—guns, knives, and brass knuckles. He grabbed one of each and placed them on his utility belt.
Shortcut jumped into a sliding chair in the middle of the room and used his contact lens to create a holographic digital screen in front of him. He manipulated it with his fingers, making the island grow bigger with a twist of his wrist. He winked, and the lights shut off, the freckles on his face glowing like luminescent specks.
“Hard to imagine why he’d pick a tourist trap like Aruba,” he said. He cocked his head, and the capital city blinked on the western side of the island. “Brockway’s probably in Oranjestad.” He touched the capital with two fingers, flipped it upward and zoomed in on a beach just south of the city.
“I sent mini-drones ahead. They planted a change of clothes beneath a tree on the beach here. It’ll help you blend in with the locals. Considering that you’re also black, you shouldn’t have any problems staying off the radar for a while.”
“Got it. Thanks for the tip.”
“We won’t be able to communicate, since the island isn’t connected to the grid. If we try to talk to each other, it’ll send a signal to Brockway and he’ll know you’re there. So you’re on your own, buddy.”
X pressed a button on the wall, and the back of the plane opened up, exposing the sky. “Nothing new.”
He jumped and flew down to meet the cool blue of the Caribbean. He tunneled through the air, held out his hands and bent his knees as he entered free fall, the cold air whipping against his body as he rotated in the direction of the island. The air entered his mouth, and though he couldn’t actually taste it, he sensed traces of ozone as his body created friction in the air.
The water sparkled below, and the clouds formed shadow lakes on the surface. He surveyed the waves. Even though he was ten thousand feet in the air, he saw the tiny shapes of fish swimming below the surface, and the sunken, shriveled silhouettes of coral reefs below them.
Nothing dangerous. No sharks. X disliked sharks. They could turn a mission like this into hell.
He turned and edged himself into an arc. He entered a cloud and fell through an expansive flood of white. When he exited, Aruba appeared, orange and brown. An interactive grid overlaid his vision, first a sequence of zeroes and ones, then a three-dimensional landscape with the mission specs laid across it. In a split second, avatars and names of important places appeared on the virtual landscape. On the far side of the city near the coast was a blinking orange dot.
The port—Brockway’s last known location.
With a hand signal, X deployed his parachute, and it ballooned in a transparent bloom above him. The fabric took the color of the sky, special UEA technology that made him harder to spot.
The parachute had a propeller attached to it, and X activated it with a lever, steering himself toward the coast. As he neared the city, he noted the street architecture and stored it in his memory for future knowledge. In a single glance, he knew the entire layout of the city and the population density. He calculated a route to the port: several miles of road past the airport, into the south side of the city, through the skewed streets that led to the docks.
He hit the water and went under. A school of fish darted away as he sank. He didn’t need to breathe; instead, he pulled down the parachute as it landed in the water, cut the straps and dove down toward the ocean floor. He grabbed a rock and placed it on top of the chute. The material flapped in the ocean current, taking on the colors of the reef as it wavered in the water.
He swam up in perfect form and flawless precision, each stroke getting him the farthest distance possible. He stopped just below the surface, stuck out his head, and waited for several minutes, watching for activity on the island. If Brockway had spotted him, there would be speedboats on their way to meet him by now.
