Adam Christopher - The Age Atomic

“Little help here, buddy,” said the Project.

Doctor X’s jaw went up and down, and he looked around him like he didn’t know where he was.

“Hey, Prof, there.” The Project didn’t move, but its eyes indicated to Doctor X’s left. On a table was a replacement arm. “Gonna need that back. And I need me some juice, real quick.”

“Juice?”

“The fusor, dummy. You need to install it.”

The doctor turned around and shook his head.

“But it isn’t ready. Even with the modifications it can only run up to three minutes now. That’s not enough.”

“I know,” said the Project. “But I’ll tell you what to do. So let’s get it up and running and then we can get moving along, nicely nicely.”

“How do you know my name?”

The Project’s face was fixed, a metal sculpted approximation of an artificial man, but the laugh that came from behind the faceplate sounded surprisingly warm and real.

“Philo Farnsworth, the hottest ticket in the Empire State. I’ve got a friend who speaks highly of you, pal.”

Doctor X nodded. His knees wobbled and for a moment he thought he would hit the floor with them, but he stayed upright.

The Project’s eyes rolled as it watched Doctor X. “You don’t look so good. Looks like you could do with some juicing yourself.”

Doctor X took his glasses off again. He closed his eyes and rubbed them until he saw blue spots dance.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. We’ll fix you up,” said the robot. “And you can call me Elektro.

“And you and me, we’re going to set the world on fire.”

The laboratory was empty when Laura arrived for work. That wasn’t unusual, although she did worry for Doctor X’s health. He didn’t get enough — any — natural sunlight living underground, which would play havoc with anyone’s circadian rhythms. She only hoped he was given vitamin D tablets with his food. He’d taken to working at night too, when she wasn’t there, appearing late in the afternoon. It was almost like he didn’t want to work with her, which was a shame. She knew she was the only person Doctor X ever really saw, apart from a few auxiliary staff and the silent, black-hatted agents that accompanied them. And the Director of course, but she didn’t count as a person, not really.

Laura shrugged off her jacket and slipped on her white lab coat, glancing around as she did so. He’d been busy during the night. Very busy. Laura allowed herself a little smile; at least his scientific curiosity hadn’t left him.

“Good morning, Laura.”

Laura jumped, her hand clutching her chest. She spun around, recognizing the voice.

“What-” Her hand found her mouth.

The Project stood next to the cage, its left arm replaced with the new limb she’d built just a few days ago. Its eyes glowed brightly, as did the circular window in its chest. Laura found her gaze drawn to the red light pulsing and spinning like a radar screen.

The fusor… the Project had a fusor installed: an operational, functioning portable fusion reactor. She blinked, her surprise fading as her professional interest took over. She took a step forward, wanting to see the work, and then she screamed.

The Project was standing next to the cage, but the frame within was not empty. Wired to the cradle around it, cables and wires dangling, connected to banks of dead equipment, was Doctor X. His eyes and mouth were open. His head lolled to one side.

His lab coat was a brilliant pinkish red. It took Laura a moment to realize that the heavy fabric had acted as a sponge, absorbing the blood from the cavernous chest wound. There was a smell too, the smell of meat at a butcher’s counter. Laura felt the bile rise in her throat — hot, sticky, making her choke.

The doctor’s chest had been opened down the middle, the two front halves of the ribcage removed entirely. Laura glanced down, and saw on a small trolley near the cage a mound of black and red material, oily and wet. Doctor X’s eviscerated insides.

The hollowed-out torso was filled with wires, all connected to the apparatus inside the cage like they had been when it had been the Project occupying the frame.

Laura doubled over and closed her eyes. She spat her breakfast onto the floor, and sucked in a breath, determined to stay conscious as the world spun around her.

It was fine, it was fine. She just needed to call for help and the workshop would be filled with agents. And the Director… she could see what was going on, right? All Laura had to do was to call out, get her attention, and everything would be fine. Maybe the Director could even put Doctor X back together again.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a pretty girl?”

Laura jumped. The Project was nearer now, moving with remarkable silence. The circular swirl of red light from its chest was almost hypnotic.

“Things didn’t go so well with me and the Prof, see,” said the machine. “But I think I got it fixed. Know where I went wrong. I’m good now.”

Laura backed away, feeling around the bench behind her. The workshop was large and there was plenty of room to run. She just had to judge her moment. There were agents near, there always were. She just needed to get to the door and-

“He was a great guy, you know.”

Laura froze. She didn’t want to die, not today. Not like Doctor X.

The Project stepped forward.

“Your boss, I mean. The Prof. What a guy. Fixed me up too, real swell.” It raised its new arm and flexed it like a circus weightlifter before tapping the index finger against the glass window in its chest. The sound was loud but dull. “All systems go. Course, I told him what to do, but nobody’s perfect.”

Laura spun on her heel, but came face to face with a computer cabinet, not the exit she had expected. She cried out in surprise and turned back around. The Project was closer, within touching distance. She looked around, looking for an escape, for a clear route out.

“It’s a shame about the Prof. But, y’know, sometimes you just make an honest mistake. I mean, c’mon, what can you do, huh?”

“What can you do?” Laura repeated. It sounded like someone else speaking, like her ears were stuffed with cotton wool.

The robot continued to creep forward. “But never mind. Let’s talk about you and me, Laura. We’re gonna do great things, you and I. Oh boy, you’d better believe it.”

Laura nodded. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see it: one of the claw-like clamps that were used to install the fusor reactor in the robot. Install… and remove . If she could get to the clamp, all she would need to do was jam it into the robot’s chest and turn, just once, to unlock the fusor. The power would be disconnected instantly, and without the external power supply provided by the cage, the Project would drop where it stood.

It sounded easy. The Project was up and moving and unrestrained, but it seemed slow, like a drunk person concentrating very hard on not being drunk. Even so, the machine would pull her to pieces like tissue paper if she tried to get the clamp in place… unless she was quick, quicker than it was. And all it would take was a twist. A single twist.

Laura sidled to the right. The robot didn’t move, just followed her with its eyes. The clamp was on the bench, just there, almost in touching distance, next to the back-up prototype fusor. The reactor looked different somehow.

Eyes fixed on the Project, Laura moved again, one step, then another, then another. The robot didn’t move. She glanced to her right, to make sure the clamp was really there, then looked back at the robot.

She reached out, not looking. Her fingers found the clamp. The metal was cold.