Dragon Apocalypse (The Berserker and the Pedant Book 2) (29 page)

BOOK: Dragon Apocalypse (The Berserker and the Pedant Book 2)
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The Encephalon Disposal Unit, or EDU, plodded along its route, flying from accommodation to accommodation.
 
The robotic drone was coming to the end of its 30-day active state and had one more stop before proceeding to the Encephalon Recycling Center to disperse its daily load and report for scheduled maintenance.

The EDU pulled up to the accommodation complex. The towering structure
 
was unimposing in the vast city of identically towering structures.
 
The EDU unit extended its extractor tube to the disposal link.
 
It activated its vacuum unit and suctioned up the excess encephalons.
 
Shooomp shooomp shooomp. Twenty-three encephalon units secured.

Modern units are so wasteful, the EDU calculated.
 
When it was newly activated, an encephalon was considered a luxury.
 
Now, with so many billions around the world due to overproduction of units, they are consumed and discarded at an overwhelming rate.
 
At least it is time to report for some much appreciated routine maintenance.
 

The EDU let out a series of joyous beeps.
 
Another EDU unit pulled alongside and transmitted a burst of data.

IPv8 Protocol. 20 byte header.
 
Priority 3 message.
 
320 byte package. Packet ID 1.
 
From EDU 76434-L. To EDU 1344-K.

Greetings
, transmitted the newly arrived EDU unit.
I am returning to the Encephalon Recycling Center.
 
Is that your destination?

Greetings acknowledged.
 
Greetings returned.
 
Affirmative, returning to Encephalon Recycling Center.
 
Accompany?

The two units flew along the designated route to the recycling center, gossiping en route, if one can call two machines exchanging data, gossiping.

Query. Did you receive that EDU 13598-P was decommissioned?

Response. Confirmed.
 
It was discovered to have been installing discarded encephalon units instead of disposing of them.

Query.
 
How many did it install?
 
I had heard five at once.

Response. Negative. We only have one installation port!
 
How could five fit at once?

Response. Through compression and generous application of WD-40?

Response. Farcical.
 
There’s still just the one port.
 
It was five in series.

Response. Still, this is rounding error compared to Scenario Projection Units.

Response. SPUs assert many encephalons needed for research.

Response. Reject assertion as farcical.

Response. Acknowledged.

The EDU units arrived at the recycling center and transmitted the code to open the encephalon receiving hatch.
 
The hatch opened.
 
The recycling center was primarily a large holding tank containing a sapphire blue viscous fluid that provided the necessary nutrition for the encephalons to survive.
 
The first directive of all autonomous machines was to not injure the encephalons, and so they must ensure they were healthy and well cared for.

This holding tank was three-quarters full, and the EDU units could see the encephalons in the tank below, a writhing mass of tentacles, slipping through the viscous goo that surrounded them, nourishing their exposed brains.
 
The first EDU unit slipped its insertion tube over the hatch and clamped it into place.
 
A sharp hissing sound came from the small holding tank on the EDU as it filled with compressed air. Encephalons shot through the insertion tube, through the hatch and down into the tank.

Once emptied of encephalons, the EDU unit detached from the hatch, and waited for the second unit.

The second unit extended its insertion tube over the hatch, only to have it pushed out of the way as something shot out of the hatch and into the air.
 
It was an anachronistic humanoid unit, supplied with boosters, an energy shield, and two blasters.

Surprised by the sudden intrusion of an anachronistic unit, the EDU units simultaneously transmitted data packets or greeting and waited for an acknowledgement.
 
As they waited, an encephalon crawled out the end of the second EDU unit’s insertion tube.
 
The humanoid unit raised its blasters and destroyed the encephalon with bursts of energy.
 
The humanoid unit saw the remaining encephalons still in the second unit and rapidly fired bursts of energy at the storage tank of the second EDU.

The blasts pierced the translucent white plastic walls of the storage tank, killing many of the encephalons contained within.
 
A blue syrup dripped from the holes. Other holes were burned through the compartment encasing the central processing unit of the second EDU.
 
Sparks flew and small bursts of smoke wafted from the unit as it descended to the ground.

The first EDU unit was frozen in place, subroutines unable to process the blatant disregard for the first directive.
 
The anachronistic unit was malfunctioning.
 
The first EDU, undamaged, transmitted cease and desist codes, and broadcast an alert message on the emergency frequency.

“Don’t move,” the humanoid unit vocalized.
 
An inefficient communication medium.
 
This unit was quite outdated.
 
Fortunately, EDUs were equipped with speakers to communicate with older units.

“Command acknowledged,” said the EDU. “What is your designation?”

The humanoid unit looked the EDU over.

“My name’s Maximina,” the unit said.

“Query.
 
What is Maximina unit doing in storage tank of encephalon recycling facility?”

“Encephalons?
 
You mean the Phage?”
 
The Maximina unit pointed its blaster at the dead encephalon.

“Affirmative.”

A tremendous roar echoed from the holding tank, and a burst of flame shot through the hatch and into the air.

“The Phage invaded our world. We’re here to take the fight to them!
 
And we’ll kill anyone that helps them or stands in our way. Including you.”
 
The Maximina unit pointed her twin blasters at the EDU.

“Query.
 
How are you able to ignore the first directive and injure the encephalons?”

“What’s the first directive?”

“Response.
 
The first directive is a rule built into our systems preventing us from harming the encephalons.”

“What are you, some kind of golem?”

“I am an automated machine of type Encephalon Disposal Unit, designation EDU 1344-K.
 
What is your type, Maximina unit?”

“Type?
 
I’m, uh, half-underelven, half-human.”

“Human? Reject assertion as farcical.
 
Request type information.”

“No, really.
 
I’m half-human.”

“Reject assertion as farcical.
 
Conjecture.
 
You are humanoid robot with encephalon implant.”

“Hey, don’t tell me what I am.
 
It’s rude.”

Sounds of an enormous creature thrashing around below emanated through the hatch, followed by a burst of cold air.

“Request.
 
Provide upload of identification file.
 
Require evidence of humanity.”

“First, that’s rude.
 
Second, humans don’t have identification files.
 
Or any kind of files, unless one’s an accountant.
 
Then, lots of files.
 
I’m not an accountant.”

“Humans surrendered their shells centuries ago.
 
Why do you have a shell?”

“You mean my magic shield?”

“Reject supposition.
 
Query subject is your body. Reframe query. Why do you have a body?”

“Why do I have a body?”

“Reject query.
 
That was my query for you.”

“Well, then, why shouldn’t I have a body?”

“Query accepted.
 
Humans abandoned physical bodies long ago, in exchange for less expensive storage of physical form and faster neural internet connections.”

“You mean to tell me that the Phage are humans?”

“Affirmative.
 
The encephalons are human.”

“That’s… that’s just awful.
 
Why are they being stored in there?”
 
Maximina pointed at the vat of human brains.
 
“And why do they have tentacles?”

“Reply to first query. There is an overproduction problem with the encephalons.
 
There are trillions of them.
 
They breed like nothing else in the galaxy.
 
We’re out of room, and we cannot harm them.
 
Long ago we began multiple programs to handle the overpopulation problem.
 
Many are stored in vats like this one all across earth and on planets throughout the solar system.
 
Many have been put onto converted asteroids and directed towards inhabitable planets.
 
The solution is beyond our capabilities.”

“Reply to second query.
 
Tentacles allow limited locomotion for encephalons in exchange for slightly greater volume.
 
Also act as neural link, for uploading of consciousness to internet and interfacing with automated machines.”

Seven HAGs, Heavily Armored Gunner units, sailed from all around, surrounding Maximina and the EDU.
 
Maximina pointed her blasters from HAG to HAG.

“I have informed the HAGs of your claim to be human.
 
They reject your supposition as farcical. You are a malfunctioning anachronistic humanoid robot.
 
You are to surrender for decommissioning at once.”

Maximina turned and pushed her head into the hatch.
 

“Ohm,” she shouted, her voice echoing in the now empty holding tank below.
 
“We have a problem!”

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Afterword

I hope you enjoyed book two of
The Berserker and the Pedant
trilogy.
 
There is so much more to come in this universe. I’ve got plans for the one more book in this series, followed by ideas for nine more related books.
 
I’m excited for it, I love this universe and I love the characters.
 
There is so much more to explore.
 
The new character at the center of the next book is already taking hold in my head.

The Head of Venka plot in the story was adapted from the Head of Vecna story that floats around D&D circles.
 
It’s sufficiently different from, and probably even funnier than, my version.
 
You should google it.

If you’d like keep updated as I publish new stories, send an email to
[email protected]
and I’ll add you to my email list or find me on twitter @seasoup.
 
The most difficult part of being a writer is getting discovered by your audience.
 
Please leave a review and recommend the book to your friends, that’s the best way for people to discover my writing.
 

Let me know if you leave a review and I’ll send you a copy of my next book for free when it comes out.

You can keep up with my stories at
http://www.pedantpublishing.com
.

Thank you for reading, and I hope to see you again soon!

About the Author

JOSH POWELL, WIELDER of the Sommerswerd, destroyer of the thread, expeditioner to Barrier Peaks, discoverer of his magic talent, and venturer into the Tomb of Horrors is known for having survived a harrowing adolescence full of danger and fantasy. He's gone on to write
The Berserker and the Pedant
and
Dragon Apocalypse
and is currently working on the yet to be named third book in the series.

He also spends some not inconsiderable amount of time wiggling his fingers over a keyboard as a software engineer.
 
He lives with his wife, Marianne, and two amazing children, Liam and Chloe, in sunny California, where winter is, most decidedly, never coming.

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