David Ring III - Stanley Duncan's Robot

Teddy didn’t know how much time he had before becoming completely insane. Nearly all his will to kill Brad was gone. If he didn’t destroy him today or tomorrow, he never would. Yet all he could manage to do was express his diminishing bloodlust through art, drawing and sculpting his rage into physical expressions.

The implant was erasing his memories. Half the time, he no longer knew why he needed to kill what’s-his-name. And it felt good to forget — painless. The burning need to exact his revenge would completely fade. Then the floodgates would open, and the horrors of his life would inundate the peaceful plains of forgetfulness.

Blowing the sawdust away from the table, the details of his work became clear. Kill Brad. It was intricately carved, a work of art. This mechanical body had endowed him with incredible abilities.

He could get a DNA test and prove that Brad was his father, even take him to court. All Teddy needed was to get Brad’s saliva off of the ever-growing mound of beer bottles he left behind. No need to rush — this could be done after things settled down. He leaned back, content with this idea, until he realized that this was another trick from the Cerebral Stitch — further delays so that he would continue to sink into the valley of nothingness, forgetting everything.

Confusion — where was he?

The surroundings came into being. Beautiful art everywhere. Life was full, resplendent. Gifted creatures abounded. This artist — whoever it was — was passionate, obsessive, and more. More than any words he could conjure. Just “Yes.” Everything seemed right. Paintings and drawings abounded on every surface with a single message: Kill Brad. There was something he was forgetting…

Instantly, it all flooded back in. Knowing this bubble of knowledge was brief, he whipped out his phone. Every second was like a ticking time bomb. Soon he would implode back into that dream of revenge. He had no friends, no being he could rely on except Maple, but she wouldn’t be competent enough to stop him. Was there anyone who he could reach out to?

A memory appeared in his mind. With perfect clarity, he recalled Dan Duncan announcing his phone number at the hospital. He took and his phone and dialed the number. “Help me! Stop me from—”

The floor creaked behind him.

“Maple—”

The war-hammer slammed into his back. Gasping for air, Teddy felt like his chest had collapsed.

“You’re pathetic!” Tossing the giant weapon to the side, Brad grabbed him by the throat, lifted him off the ground, and smashed him onto the floor.

Teddy slashed at his arm, but Brad grabbed his wrist and twisted it.

Pinning him to the ground, Brad kicked away the knife. “I didn’t recognize you without the wheelchair.”

Frustration overloaded Teddy’s circuitry as he stared at the blood trickling from the small cut on Brad’s arm and then at his own mangled wrist, wondering how Brad was so strong. “You’ve never recognized me.”

“Why would I? You’re nothing to me, just the son of a whore.” Brad stomped on his leg.

Teddy screamed. Human bones would have already snapped in half. But Teddy’s tough body resisted the force, cursing him with more brutal attacks.

Brad cuffed him to a radiator. “I’m surprised you can feel pain, you damn abomination.”

“Been feeling it all my life, asshole. All because of you.”

“Get it through your thick skull — I’m not your father.”

“Look in the fucking mirror, you giant moron!”

Brad looked dumbstruck.

Teddy filled with anger as he stared at him. The resemblance was impossible to ignore. They both had a small, round nose, short, straight teeth, and thin, furrowed eyebrows that emphasized their narrow, vindictive eyes. Brad’s neck was much larger, which made his head seem bigger. Their large ears curved outward, and the lobules connected at the jawbone.

“You’re going to pay for what you did to Officer Michaels,” said Brad. “He was a good man.”

Teddy jerked his hands around but couldn’t free himself. “No matter what you do to me, I’m coming after you. I won’t stop until you’re dead.”

Brad cackled. “No, you’re going to rot in Marshfield’s Coliseum with the other toasters.” He walked away.

“Come back and fight me!” screamed Teddy, his cuffed hands clanking against the radiator. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. Brad should not have had the upper hand.

The cuffs banged and clanged against the radiator, which didn’t budge. The carving knife lay on the floor beyond reach. Pulling as hard as he could, he watched the synthetic flesh rip off of his wrist. His biomechanical body was too strong to break. “Maple!”

She sauntered downstairs. “Teddy, you’re injured. Shall I call an ambulance?”

“Break this damn chain!”

Maple returned with a hammer.

The air crackled, and flames burst from the blowtorch in Brad’s hand. “Stop! I’m Sergeant Brad Jenkins of the Marshfield Police Department.”

Maple froze.

“Free me, you idiot.”

“I’m sorry, Teddy. I must comply with all police mandates. My…” Her words slowed.

Brad removed his hand from the back of her head. “No one to save you now, cripple.”

Teddy felt the heat of the blowtorch from several feet away, but there was nothing he could do. Maple had betrayed him in his greatest moment of need.

Insanity spilled across Brad’s face. “Time to purge your sins.”

Dan sat next to Stanley, his posture perfect, hands on his knees, and a bloody Band-Aid on his ear. “We’re safe now.”

“Thank you.”

“So how would you begin to initialize these Peacekeepers?” Dan seemed to have read his mind.

“I want to start by setting up advanced machine life, like you, at the supermarket. Show everyone that they can rely on AI for security just as they do for their coffee or firefighting. I’ll make sure the androids have the right tools to defend themselves if and when Evan strikes.”

“Which he might never do.”

“Be real, Dan. They’ve already attacked both of us. We could have died.”

“What did we do to them to deserve this?”

Stanley shrugged. “Nothing.”

“The androids at the supermarket are ancient. Why do you want to start with them?”

“Because Frank knows people,” continued Stanley. “They trust him. Once they see and understand the benefit of these Peacekeepers, the people of Marshfield would want to help. I could create a simple patch that anyone could apply to their android.”

“Simple for you means near-impossible for most people.”

“I’m not going to ask them to program for years. Just a few lines of code to migrate the cloud APIs to their individual AI.”

“Something even Glenda could do.” Dan chuckled.

Stanley nodded. He hadn’t seen her in a while, and he wondered how she was doing. It’d be nice to have her over for a meal again. “The Peacekeepers will be only a small part of it. Once we can set up a network of AI to protect us, we can start a campaign against the police. Public media, social media — everything. Let them know that it is their job which is going to be replaced next.”

“You’d be pulling the bull by its tail, baiting the police to do something about the androids.”

“Right.”

“Stanley, you’re inviting violence.”

“You’re the one who said that this path wasn’t easy. Conflict was unavoidable.”

A soothing gong sound emanated from the oven; the potato skins were ready. Dan took them out and put them on the counter. Steam wafted toward his frowning face. “So, we do this, and then what? File a lawsuit after Evan burns the building down?”