The Lost Level (17 page)

Anyway, I don’t know what compelled me to break cover and step
out from behind my tangle of vines, but that’s what I did. The robot remained
where it was, hovering above the road. I took a few cautious steps toward the
thing, wary of its reaction. I clutched my dagger in one hand, wishing too late
that I’d brought another weapon from the camp. My pulse pounded in my throat as
I waited to see what the robot would do.

“GREETINGS TO YOU, CITIZEN. NICE WEATHER WE ARE HAVING. IT IS
ANOTHER SUNNY DAY.”

Its voice was deep and booming and didn’t sound at all
mechanical. I was too stunned for a moment to speak and merely stood there
gaping. Then, I cleared my throat and raised my hand in greeting.

“Hello.”

I heard Bloop and Kasheena stirring behind me, roused from their
sleep by the robot’s voice. But before I could turn to look for them, the
machine spoke again.

“WARNING. TAMPERING OR INTERFERING WITH A DESIGNATED POSTAL
CARRIER IS A FEDERAL OFFENSE, PUNISHABLE BY LAW. PLEASE LOWER YOUR WEAPON.
FIRST NOTICE, AS REQUIRED BY STATUTE 81739.”

“Lower my…?” Confused, I realized too late that the hand I’d
raised in greeting was the hand holding the dagger. I quickly lowered my arm. “No,
I’m sorry. I was just waving. I mean you no harm.”

“THAT IS GOOD, CITIZEN. TAMPERING OR INTERFERING WITH A
DESIGNATED POSTAL CARRIER IS A FEDERAL OFFENSE, PUNISHABLE BY LAW.”

“Yes, so you said. Listen…what are you, exactly?”

There was a brief pause, as if the robot was not sure how to
answer the question and was calculating the best response.

“MY DESIGNATION IS GLOBE PACKAGE SERVICES UNITED STATES POSTAL
DELIVERY UNIT 222–321–412. I AM TASKED WITH THE DELIVERY AND COLLECTION OF ALL
INGOING AND OUTGOING MAIL ALONG THIS ROUTE.”

I considered this. It was a bit surprising that, if the robot was
from the future as I suspected, there was still physical mail delivery. It
seemed only natural that in the future most mail would have been phased out in
favor of electronic communications.

“Where are you from?” I asked. “And when?”

“THE SAN DIEGO HUB IS MY OPERATIONS CENTER, CITIZEN.”

“San Diego? Can you return there?”

“NEGATIVE. MY NAVIGATION EQUIPMENT IS CURRENTLY MALFUNCTIONING.
NORTH IS MISSING. MY NAVIGATION EQUIPMENT WILL NOT FUNCTION PROPERLY UNTIL
NORTH RETURNS.”

“North is…missing?”

“AFFIRMATIVE.”

“So, you’re stuck here, just like the rest of us.”

“NEGATIVE, CITIZEN. I AM A GLOBE PACKAGE SERVICES UNITED STATES
POSTAL DELIVERY….”

“You said that already,” I interrupted. “If you can’t find your
hub, if you have no place to return to, then what are you doing here?”

“THIS IS MY DESIGNATED ROUTE. I AM TASKED WITH THE DELIVERY AND
COLLECTION OF ALL INGOING AND OUTGOING MAIL ALONG THIS ROUTE.”

Before I could respond, Bloop and Kasheena rushed up beside me.
Bloop carried a sword in each hand, and Kasheena brandished one, as well, along
with the handgun she’d recovered from the Anunnaki. I opened my mouth to warn
them about the robot’s aversion to weaponry, but the mail carrier beat me to
it.

“WARNING, CITIZENS. TAMPERING OR INTERFERING WITH A DESIGNATED
POSTAL CARRIER IS A FEDERAL OFFENSE, PUNISHABLE BY LAW. PLEASE LOWER YOUR
WEAPONS. SECOND NOTICE, AS REQUIRED BY STATUTE 81739.”

Bloop responded by growling. Kasheena held out the pistol,
offering it to me, but I waved her away and turned back to the robot.

“CITIZEN, YOUR PET IS REQUIRED BY LAW TO BE LEASHED IN MY
PRESENCE SO THAT IT DOES NOT INTERFERE WITH MY DUTIES. IF YOU HAVE ANY
QUESTIONS CONCERNING THIS LAW, PLEASE REFERENCE REGULATIONS 7162353 AND 7162354
FOR MORE INFORMATION.”

“Now, wait a minute,” I said. “First of all, he’s not my pet. He’s
an intelligent being, just like we are. And secondly, he doesn’t mean you any
harm. None of us do. They’ll lower their weapons.”

“I will do no such thing,” Kasheena said, “until I know that this
creature means us no harm in return.”

“Bloop,” our furry companion agreed, hefting both swords higher.

“WARNING. TAMPERING OR INTERFERING WITH A DESIGNATED POSTAL
CARRIER IS A FEDERAL OFFENSE, PUNISHABLE BY LAW. PLEASE LOWER YOUR WEAPONS.
THIRD NOTICE HAS BEEN COMMUNICATED AND ACKNOWLEDGED, AS REQUIRED BY STATUTE
81739.”

Kasheena frowned. “What does that mean?”

“NOW COMMENCING DEFENSIVE MANEUVERS,” the robot replied. “PLEASE
STAND BY.”

Another hatch opened in the mail carrier’s side, and three rods,
composed of some type of flexible metal, emerged. They crackled with
electricity, and the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood up. Bloop’s
fur did the same. He looked like he’d just tumbled out of a clothes dryer. His
bangs and whiskers puffed in front of his eyes, momentarily blinding him. The
robot swung the metal arms at all three of us. Kasheena and I managed to dodge.
I ducked low, allowing the rod to sweep over my head, while she darted to the
left and jumped behind a tree. Bloop, still unable to see, was not so lucky.
The third rod touched his shoulder, and he screamed and jittered. I smelled
burning hair. Continuous spasms rocked him, and the current jolting through his
body made him unable to let go of the swords. Kasheena popped out from behind
her cover and fired a shot, but there was no discernable reaction from our foe.
I don’t know if she missed or if its hull was just bulletproof.

The rod pulled away from Bloop, even as the other swung back
around to strike at me again. I backpedaled out of range, furious at myself for
only being armed with the dagger. I glanced around the ground, hoping to find a
rock I could pelt the robot with, but before I could, the tips of the rods
opened up, revealing pincer–like fingers. They seized Bloop—who had fallen to
the ground, motionless, but still clutching both swords—by his shoulders and
legs. Then they receded back to the robot. Clutching Bloop at its side, the
mail carrier began to hover higher off the road.

“No!”

I rushed forward, dimly aware of Kasheena shouting at me, and
leaped aboard the robot’s roof just as it began to speed down the road. I had
to hold my dagger between my teeth and grip the sides tightly to avoid falling
off.

“WARNING,” it said as we sped along, “TAMPERING OR INTERFERING
WITH A DESIGNATED POSTAL CARRIER IS A FEDERAL OFFENSE, PUNISHABLE BY LAW. YOU
HAVE BEEN GIVEN THREE NOTICES, AS REQUIRED BY STATUTE 81739. DEFENSIVE MANEUVERS
ARE COMPLETE. FURTHER OBSTRUCTION SHALL RESULT IN OFFENSIVE MEASURES.”

I spoke through clenched teeth, enunciating slowly and
desperately trying not to lose my only weapon. “I’m not trying to interfere
with you, you goddamned bucket of bolts. Let my friend go, and we’ll continue
on our way.”

“YOU CANNOT RECLAIM YOUR PET, CITIZEN. AS PER REGULATION 7162354,
IT HAS BEEN DEEMED A DANGEROUS ANIMAL. YOU HAVE VIOLATED LEASHING LAWS. YOUR
PET WILL BE EUTHANIZED UPON REACHING THE SAN DIEGO HUB.”

“But you don’t know where your hub is!”

“THERE MAY BE A BRIEF DELAY IN REACHING THE HUB UNTIL NORTH
RETURNS. WE APOLOGIZE FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE.”

“Then let my friend go!”

“NEGATIVE. YOU MAY MAKE ARRANGEMENTS TO SECURE HIS REMAINS ONCE
THE EUTHANASIA PROCESS IS COMPLETED.”

“The hell I will. I’m warning you, robot—”

“FAILURE TO FOLLOW COMMANDS REGARDING FURTHER OBSTRUCTION WILL
RESULT IN THIS UNIT TAKING OFFENSIVE MEASURES. FINAL WARNING, AS PER STATUTE
81740. THIS UNIT APOLOGIZES FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE. PLEASE STAND BY.”

Our speed increased, and the landscape began to flash past. I
risked a glance behind us and was dismayed to discover that our campsite—and
Kasheena—were already gone from sight. From my vantage point atop the robot, I
could only see the top of Bloop’s head and the tips of his ears. He remained in
the unit’s mechanical clutches, gripped tightly against the side of the hull
and immobilized.

That was when I noticed a small, sealed access door about a foot
away from me. It was similar to the hatch that had opened on the robot’s side,
but miniscule in comparison—about the size of a credit card. I wondered if I
could pry it open with the dagger, but doing so would mean I’d only have one
hand free to hang onto our speeding captor with, and we were traveling fast
enough that I might fall off.

Seconds later, the robot made up my mind for me.

“NOW COMMENCING OFFENSIVE MEASURES. HAVE A NICE DAY.”

The panel door opened, and a small nozzle, similar to that of a
garden hose, rose out of the hatch. It swiveled toward me, and then spurted a
stream of noxious, greenish–black fluid. Only my quick reflexes saved me. I
ducked flat, cringing, and hugged myself against the robot’s roof as the fluid
arced overtop me and splattered a tree off to our right. I glanced over my
shoulder and saw that the tree’s trunk was smoking and liquefying. Whatever the
strange fluid was, it was obviously highly corrosive.

As the nozzle readjusted itself, pointing lower to take aim at me
again, I allowed survival instinct to override my paralyzing fear and let go
with my right hand. There was a brief, terrifying second where I thought I
might plunge off the back of the robot, but I readjusted my balance and
squeezed so hard with my left hand that I felt metal biting into my flesh. With
my right hand, I yanked the dagger from my mouth. The nozzle unleashed another
stream, but I slid to the left, and it overshot me again. My relief vanished as
a crosswind scattered a few tiny droplets on my legs. Immediately, my flesh
began to sizzle. The pain was excruciating—like a bee sting full of battery
acid. I was nauseated by the chemical smell of my own skin burning.

Screaming, I struggled to maintain my grip. I returned the dagger
to my mouth again. Biting down on it helped me focus through the pain. I pushed
myself forward and grabbed the nozzle before it could fire again. I was able to
swivel it away from myself easily enough. Reassured that I had a good handhold,
I let go of the robot’s side with my left hand and retrieved the dagger once
more. Then I jammed it into the hatch, driving the blade deep into circuitry
and wires. I expected to be electrocuted for my efforts, but when that didn’t
happen, I stabbed the robot’s innards again and again.

The pain in my legs was intense, and I suppose I momentarily blacked
out—lost in some fugue state of panic, agony, and berserker rage. Eventually, I
realized that my hair wasn’t blowing in the wind behind me and that we had
stopped. The robot was still hovering above the road, but it was no longer
moving or speaking or trying to kill me. It had also released Bloop, who
clambered atop the roof to help me. He sniffed at my legs and then recoiled. I
pulled myself into a crouch and was just about to begin cutting the flesh away
to try to stop the damage, when he leaped off the robot and scampered into the
woods.

“Bloop,” he called.

He bounded out of the trees clutching two great fistfuls of
leaves. Using these, Bloop wiped the smoking corrosive from my skin, carefully
making sure he didn’t get any on himself. When he was finished, he tossed the
leaves over the side and then inspected my wounds.

“Bloop,” he said, nodding.

“Bloop, indeed,” I responded. “Thanks, buddy.”

The pain gradually subsided, and there was no further reaction. I
stood experimentally and found that I was able to walk. After the wounds had
clotted, Bloop helped me clamber down onto the road. The leaves he’d used to
clean me were smoldering and blackened.

We inspected the robot. I’d been worried that it might recover
and attack us again, or begin melting like the previous robot we’d encountered,
but it did neither of these things. It was obviously still functioning.
Hydraulics whined from somewhere deep inside its chassis. But it made no
further move to attack us. Indeed, it didn’t acknowledge us at all. Nor did it
continue on its way. It simply remained where it was, floating above the
ground.

“Come on.” I clasped Bloop’s shoulder. “The hell with this thing.
Let’s get back to camp. Kasheena is probably worried about us.”

But as we soon learned, Kasheena had other things to worry about.

We limped along the road, Bloop recovering from his electrocution
and subsequent paralysis and me wincing at the damage to my legs. I stared at
the horizon, expecting to see Kasheena coming in search of us, but the road
remained empty. A sense of uneasiness came over me and grew with each passing
mile. Bloop must have sensed it, too, for he hurried his pace, and I had to
struggle to keep up with him. When we saw the familiar yellow mailbox, we both
broke into a run. I winced in pain but pushed my own discomfort to the side.
There was still no sign of Kasheena, and I now desperately felt that something
was wrong.

We found the first dead Anunnaki a few yards into the forest. The
reptilian had been shot through the head. We found three more snake men
scattered around our camp. All of them were dead. One’s neck had been broken.
The other two were shot. The clearing still reeked with their cucumber and
mothball stench. It was clear enough what had happened. While Bloop and I had
been gone, a group of Anunnaki had attacked the campsite. They had probably
been watching us even before the mishap with the robot. I was certain that
Kasheena would have pursued us, which meant that they had surprised her before
she could leave. She had obviously killed all four. What was less obvious was
her current whereabouts. She wasn’t in the camp, and after a hurried search, we
discovered that all of our gear and weapons were missing, as well.

I cupped my hands around my mouth and called for her. “Kasheena!”

The only responses were the startled cries of a few birds and the
echoes of my voice. I looked around the camp for any signs of her—a scrap of
her loincloth, perhaps torn in battle, or maybe a few strands of hair ripped
out by a branch, or even a splash of blood, but there was nothing. Panicked, I
left Bloop to continue scrutinizing our campsite while I searched in concentric
circles in the area around it. I had visions of Kasheena lying somewhere
beneath the trees, wounded or unconscious. I looped deeper and deeper into the
forest, until Bloop summoned me back again with a cry.