Tony Ballantyne - Twisted Metal

‘The metal becomes a mind,’ repeated the steel robot. ‘This is written in the Book of Robots.’

Now he was peeling back the base of the skull, exposing the mind completely. The blue wire seemed to shiver, and Olam felt himself willing his immobile electromuscle to tense, as if that would hold the wire of Janet’s mind together, stop it slipping and unravelling.

‘But this mind here is not the mind described in the pages of that book,’ continued the steel robot. ‘The minds that are woven today are but pale shadows of the true mind, for over the years the knowledge of the strength and purpose of a robot mind has been diluted and forgotten.’

The steel robot now scooped Janet’s mind from her skull, lifted it carefully into the air. The long braided length of the coil was still attached to the body, and Janet’s eyes still rolled upwards, looking in horror at what was being done to her.

‘For, even today, twisted metal has more lifeforce than many realize, yet that lifeforce is but a fraction of that enjoyed by the first robots.’

‘Put her back!’

Doe Capaldi’s voice rang across the room. The steel robot turned to gaze at him, the blue wire of Janet’s mind wobbling in his hand.

‘She is perfectly safe,’ said the steel robot. ‘Or at least, she will be if her mind is twisted true. It all depends on how far she has diverged from the plan laid down in the Book of Robots. Even then, you may be surprised. As I said, the mind has more lifeforce than robots realize.’

And then, so quickly that Olam could barely follow it, the steel robot pulled out a detonator cap and pushed it between the slippery coiled wire of Janet’s mind, pushed it deep inside. Carefully, he dropped the mind back into its skull cradle.

‘What has he done?’ whispered Janet. ‘What has he done to me?’

‘Nothing,’ called Parmissa, her voice strangely modulated. ‘He hasn’t done anything.’

‘He’s put a detonator cap in your skull!’ said Olam. ‘Parmissa, why lie to her?’

‘Why lie indeed?’ asked the steel robot, bending down before Janet. ‘Just a small charge. You have the strength, you know – the lifeforce to keep your mind together. All you have to do is concentrate. To really, really concentrate. Here it comes…’

‘No! Take it…’ began Janet, and then there was a muffled crack, and Janet died. Blue wire exploded in a tangled mess.

‘No!’ called Parmissa, and then she was silent. They were all silent.

‘You saw it, didn’t you?’ said the steel robot. ‘The power of the mind?’

They had all seen it. The blue wire had exploded in a tangled ball, but then it had happened, something that they had never seen before. The wire had contracted. It had tried to pull itself together again. It had almost made it, too.

‘This is the knowledge of the Book of Robots. The lifeforce.’

Olam barely heard him speak. Janet had almost made it. She had used her lifeforce to almost pull her mind back together, but not quite. Blue wire slipped and flopped across the rough stone floor.

‘Now,’ said the steel robot, brightly. ‘Who’s next?’

Eleanor

Eleanor ran to the front of the train. Burning diesel was spilling from one of the fuel tanks, and she splashed her way through a puddle of orange flame that sizzled as it burned its way through the snow. The front of the train lay on its side, one uncoupled wheel still spinning slowly. She looked along the train’s underside, searching for a likely panel or access hatch, but there was nothing there, just the wheels and springs and drive coupling.

A muffled whoosh and a wave of orange flame swept over her, covering her with greasy soot. She felt the heat in her electromuscles as the light grew brighter. The flame was spreading.

Quickly, she scrambled up the bogie, on to the top, or rather side, of the train. Again, she looked for an access panel, hoping that the train had not fallen onto it. Finally, she spotted it, its outline painted in red and yellow stripes. She unsnapped the catches. There was another muffled thump and another wave of heat, much stronger now. She flung the panel aside and dropped inside the train.

There were three minds in there, nestling in a neat line. One of them was dead, its blue wire dull and brittle. She pulled out the other two, carefully disengaging the coils, and climbed up and out of the train. Orange flames burned bright all around her, sucking the oxygen from the night. She jumped to the ground, into the heart of the fire, and ran as quickly as she could into the darkness. Flames swelled up into the sky, casting shadows into the darkened surroundings. She ran on, out of the fire and into the night, looking for the dead and broken bodies of infantryrobots. After some searching she found enough parts to make a body.

Carefully, she slid the first mind into the body, plugged in the coil…

‘Aieeeeeeeee…’

The robot began to scream a shrill high-pitched electronic note. It wrapped its arms around its head and curled up on the ground, unmoving.

‘… Eeeeeeeee…’

Eleanor quickly unhooked the robot’s coil, silencing it. She looked around, seeing if anyone else had heard the noise. Was someone coming to investigate? She scanned the night. No one was in sight.

Now she slid the second mind into the same body.

She waited. The robot on the ground moved its arm. Then the other arm. Slowly it turned its head and looked at her. It reached out and patted the ground, patted itself, patted Eleanor’s hand.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

‘I’m fine. Who are you?’

‘Eleanor. Are you Karel?’

‘Yes.’

Eleanor smiled. ‘Excellent. Then come with me. There’s someone I think you should meet.’

The tangled minds of three robots spilled over the floor. ‘This one almost did it,’ said the steel robot, looking at the pool of twitching wire that slowly uncurled around its feet. ‘See? It is possible. Remember that, when it’s your turn.’

Olam’s gyros lurched as the robot looked directly at him. Was it to be his turn next? And then, to his overwhelming relief, the steel robot turned and walked through the door, leaving the building.

Olam and the rest remained silent for a moment, unable to quite understand what had happened. Not quite willing to believe their good fortune. Were they to be saved?

No, because now the thin, pig-iron robots were pulling Parmissa to the centre of the room, they were unpicking the metal of her skull.

‘Please!’ she called. ‘Please, not me!’

‘Parmissa!’ called Doe Capaldi. ‘Show some dignity. You are an Artemisian!’

‘No I’m not! I’m a Wiener. I only joined this army so I didn’t have to die back in Wien!’

Just like me, thought Olam.

‘Did you hear that?’ she called to the thin robots. ‘I’m not really an Artemisian! Let me alone!’

Mercilessly, they unpicked the last of her skull. Slowly, carefully, they lifted the blue wire of her mind from her body.

‘No! I told you! I’m not one of them! I’m…’ They unhooked her coil from her body, and her voice died.

They slipped the detonator cap in between the wire of the skull. Olam felt as if his gyros were filled with sand, the way they now seemed to grind inside him. He knew what was coming next… Except he didn’t. Because now a hinged shell was produced, the size of a skull. Parmissa’s mind was hooked up inside it, the shell closed with a snick, the whole then placed carefully on the floor. What were they doing?

They had finished their work with Parmissa. What now? Horror: they pointed at him. It was Olam’s turn. They were coming towards him…

‘Olam!’ called Doe Capaldi. ‘Wire bombs! They’re making us into wire bombs!’