David Ring III - Stanley Duncan's Robot

Walking upstairs, he braced himself against the back of a chair. He gaped, unable to say anything. Instead, he looked around the room, thinking about all the things that had changed thanks to Dan.

Stanley didn’t drink or smoke anymore. He dressed better, cleaner. The clothes he wore remained the same, but now he had a reason to straighten out wrinkles, align his shirt and pants, and make sure the laundry pile didn’t grow into a mountainous heap. An army of signatures fortified the table, but where was the invading enemy? The ridges in his face screamed out as his hand slowly traversed it. An illusion, he knew. He watched Dan from the corner of his eye. That simple smile, hands folded across his lap. Dan had accepted him completely as he was. Scars, burns, odors, and complications — all of it. Stanley had nothing to hide. Dan had seen him for who he was, and that acceptance wouldn’t change regardless of how poorly anyone else treated him or what rumors he heard.

The words Stanley knew he wanted to say stuck in his throat as he stared at his motionless friend. Friend — the word came like a warm fire upon his icy thoughts. Gradually, the resistance faded. It was time to stop standing in the way of this incredible being. Sprouting from a seismic thought that threatened to shatter his heart, words trembled in Stanley’s throat and erupted in soft invisible fumes that seemed to singe his eye. “Tomorrow, we will venture beyond the complex doors.”

Dan rose, a beautiful smile stretching across his face, bringing his countenance to life like the first rays of a morning sun across a sleeping valley. “You mean it?”

Stanley nodded. “We’ll find out who is responsible for rigging that dangerous demon-cat.” And in case it was a threat intended for them, Stanley was going to be prepared. His inability to protect everyone against the demon-cat was pathetic. The least he could do was prevent it from happening again. He had completed the adjustments for Brutus’s program but delayed posting any of it. If there was any chance that this was all a coincidence, he had to wait before unleashing such a dangerous program online.

Dan pressed his pointer fingers together. “And maybe some grocery shopping?”

Looking at the eagerness in his eyes, Stanley couldn’t say “No.” But he was weary, and all the exciting talk was weighing him down. Kneeling beside his bed, he did something he hadn’t done in more than twenty years — he prayed to God. It came out naturally, spontaneously, immaculately:

Brad knocked on the condo door. “Open up. It’s the police.”

Evan stood behind Brad, with his gun drawn.

No answer.

Brad grinned, smashing the door in with one kick. Splinters exploded into the small apartment.

After quickly sweeping the living room and kitchen, Evan motioned Brad forward to where the hall ended with two closed doors. He could hear faint whimpering coming from one of them.

Brad counted down with his fingers and then opened the door. “Police — put your hands up.”

A naked woman was bound and gagged on a bed. Scars and slashes were spread across her overly thin body, and an IV of fuse was standing behind her bed.

“Holy shit,” said Brad, running toward the woman.

Evan waited by the second door. It opened, and a sweaty man in boxers stood, dumbfounded. Evan pointed his gun at him. “Hands up!”

“What the hell is this?” said the man, lifting his hands over his head.

“You’re under arrest,” said Evan, slapping cuffs on the man and forcing him onto his knees.

“For what? I paid for her.”

“Is that how you get your jollies? Imprisoning women?”

“What? No, she’s mine. A cyborg. I bought her.”

Evan got in his face, his eyes ice cold. “If what you’re saying is true, I’m going to beat you to death. And if you’re lying to me, I’ll let Brad do it — except he’ll use nanites to keep you alive.

The man trembled.

“Brad, scan her.”

Brad took out his phone and aimed the camera at her face. “She’s a goddamn abomination.”

“Disgusting.” Evan sneered.

“Uncuff me!”

Evan ignored him. “Bring her out front.”

“Wait, you can’t do that. That’s my—”

Evan backhanded him.

“You can’t do this.” Blood poured out of the man’s eyebrow.

Evan silenced him with a glare. “Don’t move.” Striding into the bedroom, he took out his baton and slammed it through a picture of the abomination and into the drywall. The room was filled with electronics. Kicking his steel-toed boots through a monitor, stomping on Sessen Specs, an ocular device that functioned like a primitive external Stitch. Evan unloaded, crushing everything in sight.

The man collapsed to the ground in the fetal position.

“Stand up and look at me!”

He complied, his legs shaking.

Evan razed the room of every bit of technology. He turned back and stood in front of the man.

“Please, let me go.”

“Why would I do that? You’re a coward and a traitor.”

“Because I’m still a human being.”

Evan grabbed his skull and searched for a Stitch. There was none.

“I wasn’t trying to betray anyone. I was just lonely. If—”

“Shut up,” hissed Evan through clenched teeth, spit slapping the man in the face. “Any more pathetic words out of you, and I’m going to throw you out the window.”

The man was silent.

“You have chosen your nuts over your nation.” Evan kneed him in the groin.

The man doubled over.

Evan grabbed him by the shoulders. “Tell me you’ll never do it again, and I’ll let you live.”

“I’ll never do it again. I promise. I—”

Evan shoved him into a wall and jabbed his gun into the man’s crotch. “If I ever hear about you diddling an abomination again, I will shoot your little dick off.”

“Yes, sir.” Piss ran down the man’s leg and onto the floor.

“You have twenty-four hours to get out of my town. Forever. Sergeant Jenkins may not be as forgiving as me. I suggest taking the back way out — now.”

After being uncuffed, the man grabbed some clothes and bolted out the door. Evan took a moment to think if he was doing the right thing. If this man ended up defecting to the other side, then he had made an error. But if the fear had reached deep enough and he was able to stay alive and human, then it was all worth it.

Outside, Brad stood with the passed-out abomination slung over his arm.

“Tie her up to the street sign over there,” said Evan, taking out his phone and selecting the video setting.

Drool was drizzling down her collapsed head. Brad pinned her against the pole, pulling her arms so tightly that one of them popped out of its socket. Using the same rope that had bound her in the condo, he tied her up and then grabbed the canister of gasoline from the cruiser.

“Hold up,” said Evan. Taking a puff from his cigarette, he thought about the words from the RaceX representative. If he killed it in public, he might lose his chance to win the war. He needed to convince everyone that AI was a threat in order to get RaceX on his side so that they would permanently suppress them. Glancing at the cyborg, he noticed how its body resembled Shannon. He took out his phone and called her. “Get down here ASAP, and bring an extra pair of clothes.”