Android Paradox (15 page)

She tossed an electric rod on the ground and it threw up an umbrella of sparks. “One.”

Then another. “Two.”

Then the third, forming a triangle around X.
 

X shot the rods before they could activate, and they went up in flames. He leaped onto the catwalk and ran at Jazzlyn. She flipped over him, striking him with a hard kick as she landed. He hit the ground in a roll and stood up.
 

“We are not enemies,” he said. “I don’t have time for this.”

Jazzlyn winked. Her body began to glow. She jumped off the catwalk, but she was still on the catwalk. Now there were two Jazzlyns. She divided herself again and again until there were twelve all around the room. All of the Jazzlyns laughed at the same time, creating an eerie delay between their voices as they reverberated off the walls.
 

“My electric net trick didn’t work with you, so we’ll try this,” she said.
 

X scanned the room for the real Jazzlyn. They all looked like holograms, and they all had constellations of cockroaches around their bodies.
 

Each Jazzlyn ran to a nearby trash compactor and activated it. Soon, the room filled with an earthquake of sound and X had trouble focusing.
 

POW!
He felt an impact on the back of his head, knocking him off the catwalk. Then a blast of electricity shot through his body. The real Jazzlyn was behind him with an electric rod.

“How do you like my digital sleight of mind tricks?” Jazzlyn said.
 

X convulsed and couldn’t respond. A dangling wire hung near him, and he reached up and grabbed it. The electricity crackling through his body went through the wire, shorting out the lights in the room.

Jazzlyn stopped and looked around. X saw her doppelgängers glowing in the darkness.
 

He threw a punch at her, crashing through the cockroach barrier and striking her in the face. He knocked her halfway across the room, then took one of her electric rods and shocked her. He watched as she writhed for several minutes, completely draining her energy, then turned off the rod. She put her hands up, breathing heavily.
 

“Stop! Stop!”

“Why are you a hunter?”

“This isn’t psychiatry hour, android. And you aren't allowed to hurt me. UEA law.”

He took her and threw her through a nearby drywall. She landed in an office, sending up clouds of dust.
 

“Think again. I’m not violating any laws when my life is in danger.”

Jazzlyn pulled herself up and wiped blood from her lip. She glowered at X. “You shouldn’t hurt humans, you know.”

“You killed a very important android today. I don’t care if you’re a human. You’re a criminal, and my mission is to protect the UEA, no matter what the cost. Now give me Ballixter’s black box.”

Jazzlyn threw the black box in the air and shot it to pieces. “Go to hell.” Then she grunted and passed out.
 

X stared at the shattered box. All the knowledge Ballixter had promised him was gone.
 

He couldn’t dwell on it. Jazzlyn was immobilized, and he decided to leave her behind. He could deal with her later, if he had to.

He had to get back to headquarters. He dashed through the facility and found a vehicle bay of garbage trucks. He commandeered one and barreled through the streets, zooming past cars and forcing some to the side of the road. As the downtown district skyline came into view, he saw a fleet of airships gathered around the UEA headquarters and columns of smoke rising into the air.
 

Chapter 20

Shortcut and Brielle dove for cover as androids swung through the broken windows on ropes. They landed with the grace of cats and fired into the crowd. They wore blue military uniforms and berets, their boots filling the atrium with a cacophonous sound of metal stomps and crushed glass. The air clouded with helixes of white, stinging smoke that rose from their guns at each shot, and the scars along the sides of their faces where their black boxes had been removed glinted in the smoky light—ugly chasms of steel on smooth skin. Their eyes glowed red, and they performed every action with intense concentration, as if the invasion was mapped out in their programming.
 

Everyone in the atrium screamed and scattered as the androids mowed them down.
 

UEA androids in the crowd fired back, and an intense gunfight began—a symphony of never-ending bullets that made Shortcut’s ears ring.
 

Shortcut dragged Brielle behind the coffee kiosk. He looked outside and saw the stern of an airship. He had lost his lens in the chaos of the invasion, but the image on the metal surface couldn’t have been clearer—the burning condor.
 

“This is bad,” he said. He put his hands to his head and tried to concentrate, but the gunfire made him anxious. He found silence deep inside himself and tried to think clearly. Then he opened his eyes and saw Brielle staring at him.
 

“We’re going to be okay,” he said, as much for himself as for Brielle.
 

“We need to stay here, out of sight,” Brielle said.
 

Shortcut peered over the counter and saw a UEA android engage in physical combat with an invader android; the invader android disemboweled him, ripped out his black box, and let out a tribal roar. The noise made Shortcut shiver.

“So, we’re finally going to find out who’s been behind all of this,” he said.
 

“If we survive,” Brielle said.
 

An android with steel arms and turrets on his shoulders stomped past the coffee stand. He didn’t look like the other androids; his face was smooth with no signs of black box removal. He looked as if his creator hadn't even taken the time to apply finishing touches to him. He was meant for war. Rough and unfinished, he reminded Shortcut of the robot movies in the twenty-first century when humans had no clue what android technology was like. Even his circuitry could be heard through his chest, quietly blipping and bleeping.
 

The beefy android stopped near the coffee stand, and Shortcut and Brielle hid in the shadows.
 

Shortcut grabbed an espresso bean and ate it quickly, swallowing the grounds as the taste of coffee lingered in his mouth. The smell of it made him feel better—almost normal. As he finished chewing, he saw a reflection from the corner of his eye. His algorithm lens lay on the ground in a constellation of broken glass.
 

“Damn,” he whispered.
 

He had to get it. He had to scan this android and send the data to the network for future reference. This entire army had to have been made by the same creator, and if that creator was inside the UEA, the Council needed to know about it.
 

The android kicked over a chair and turned his back to the kiosk.

“Stupid humans,” the beefy android said to another who was removing a dead UEA android’s black box. “They’re all gonna die per Mama’s orders.”

The other android, smaller than the first, tossed the fresh black box into the air and shot it into pieces with his machine gun. “We’ll have this place taken over in a few minutes. This area is secure.”

The beefy android was about to step backward, toward Shortcut and Brielle. Shortcut took a shard of glass from the ground and threw it against the wall of the coffee kiosk so that it ricocheted away from them.
 

The androids dashed in the direction of the ricochet and stood with their backs to the kiosk.

“Androids are so predictable,” Shortcut said. He crept from behind the kiosk and grabbed his lens, then sprayed it with lens solution and placed it in his eye.
 

The androids were still searching the rubble with their backs to Shortcut and Brielle. He scanned both of them, but nothing came up, then he activated his recorder and studied their every movement. He noted their construction and weaponry—definitely not UEA. Not registered to any android engineer in the UEA system.
 

The smaller android turned around and saw Shortcut.

“Crap.”

Brielle ran at the androids. Her chest opened up, firing a column of flames and engulfing them in fire.
 

Shortcut’s eyes widened as she ran back to him and grabbed his hand. They hurried upstairs and out of sight as the androids beat at the flames.

The airships circled the air around the UEA headquarters like vultures, sunlight glinting off their fins. X studied the air and noticed a faint line of dust hanging after the ships; it smelled of ozone and electricity and a strange burning chemical that he couldn’t identify.
 

Even though X was far away, he heard the klaxons blaring and could see the red lights at the top of the building flashing, signaling that the Council was in danger.
 

He had to figure out a plan. If he stormed in, he didn’t know what he would encounter. Considering what he had learned about the actions of his foe up until now, there would probably be androids with weapons, and he would be outnumbered.
 

And they would be expecting him to return.

He scanned the foundation of the building. The headquarters had been built with a maze of hidden tunnels that started below the first floor and led up to the android quarters. They were unknown to outsiders, and they laced throughout the building like rabbit warrens, going behind offices, under floors, and above ceilings. They were so complicated that humans didn’t bother with them; only the androids could navigate them.
 

If he could get onto the first floor, he could get into the tunnels.
 

He approached the campus from the far end. Several police androids had the area barricaded, and they spoke through a megaphone to anyone inside who would hear them.

“Stop the siege. We repeat: stop the siege. You are in violation of the UEA code. You have already committed treason and you will not succeed with your efforts.”

He hid behind a parked car and studied the scene. The police androids patrolled the building with their weapons pointing toward it. Their guns were activated, and circular drone bots hovered around them, scanning the area.

If he encountered a police android, they would restrain him. They wouldn’t let him enter the building and endanger the Council’s chance of survival.
 

He focused on a ventilation grate near the cafeteria, hidden in the shade of an oak tree. He waited until the police androids moved away, and then dashed toward the grate.
 

A circular drone bot camouflaged in the oak tree flashed into view. A screen on the front displayed an exclamation mark.
 

“Do not proceed any further,” it said.

X shot it out of the air, sending it crashing to the ground in a rainbow of sparks.
 

He sprinted across the lawn as one of the police androids saw him.

“Stop!” the android cried.

But X was inside the grate with it closed behind him before they could stop him.

He ventured into darkness, stooping to avoid hitting his head against the ceiling. The low-pitched rumble of the air-conditioning unit shook the tunnel and filled it with cold air. He couldn’t see, so he relied on his internal GPS. Every step had to be accurate, or he would waste time feeling around the walls for openings. His shoes clanged against the aluminum floor, and he smelled dampness and remnants of grease. He was under the cafeteria, probably near the grease trap. Above, he heard gunshots.
 

A green line of code flashed across his vision, and he felt his black box humming to life.

“What is this?” he asked. “This is not the time for an update.”

Maybe someone had hacked into the android database and was reprogramming him.
 

His entire vision filled with code, and he couldn’t walk any further. His legs grew weak, and he slumped against the metal walls.

“Stop the update,” he told his black box. “Postpone it until tomorrow.”

Androids always had the option to postpone, and the system usually granted that request. But not this time.
 

All he could do was lay there as the code scrolled across his vision.
 

So this is what it feels like to go rogue.
 

He hoped the override would scrub his knowledge of the tunnels. That way he would be trapped inside forever and not cause anyone harm.

Then the code flashed, and everything around him changed. He was no longer in the tunnel. He was in a laboratory—small, quaint, and fastidiously clean. He lay on a table with his skull opened and his black box exposed. He felt warm wires attached to his black box. He wanted to move but he couldn’t.
 

It was a home laboratory, and it smelled of incense and chai tea. Android parts were ranged in buckets on shelves along the walls. A desk sat in the corner of the room, and on it was a digital screen with snippets of code and a photograph of two women sitting on a couch, brown-skinned and beautiful. One of the women was older, in a floral dress with her hair in a ponytail; the other was younger, with long curly hair with a strand that hung down over her face.
 

He recognized this place but couldn’t identify it. He tried to scan it and compare it to every place he had ever been, but his scanner didn’t work. He felt powerless.

A door opened, and someone descended wooden steps. He couldn’t see anything until a face hovered over him—Dr. Crenshaw.

“Good morning, X,” he said, smiling.
 

X couldn’t respond, but he could think.
This is a memory.
 

“We’re almost done here,” Dr. Crenshaw said. He grabbed a screwdriver and whistled a jazz song. His lens lit up, and music played from a speaker on his desk—a double-time song with saxophones and trumpets making fast runs.

“Xandifer Tyrone Crenshaw,” Dr. Crenshaw said. “I have created you to be intelligent, social, and a protector of all that is good. No one will define you. You define yourself. No one can take away the supremacy of your mind. As I’ve told all the androids before you, and all that will come after you—be regal. Be royal. But best of all, be real.”