John Moralee - Future Imperfect - A Collection of Science Fiction Stories

“I was worried it would be intercepted if I had it on me—or if I left you a message telling you it contained proof of my innocence. We need to get that data to someone with power. A judge you trust. We can go now.”

“I’d love to—but I can’t. The Yellow Star kidnapped Shada.”

“My baby girl!” she said. The words sounded strange coming out of the mouth of a teenager. “What can we do?”

“Grab an Omni,” I said. “Guard the door. Shoot anyone who comes in. I’ll be back in a moment.”

I grabbed some things from my sister’s wardrobe, packing them in a bag. Then I told my mother to follow me. The fastest way to get to Transformia was via my flier—but a police vehicle would be spotted by the Yellow Star a klick away, ruining the chance of getting into the club undetected. No—I had to use the ground car belonging to Shorty. We hurried down in the elevator to the underground parking zone. I located Shorty’s four-door grey van. I climbed in the back, so I could change into Shada’s party dress while my mother drove us the sixteen blocks to the club. My mother’s eyebrow raised in confusion.

“What are you doing, Chara? Isn’t that dress inappropriate?”

“It’s a dance club, Mom. I’ll go in as a customer. I’ll look for Shada, once I get inside. Damn! I’ll have to leave my Omni with you, though. They’ll have a scanner on the door, so I can’t even hide it in Shada’s Maxx Impact handbag.”

“I can help with that,” she said. “Use this to pay for entry.” She handed me her pay card. “There’s a copy of Bane on it. I used it at the station to mess up the surveillance cams. It’ll break their scanner.”

“That’s great, Mom, but it won’t hide my Omni from a human search.”

“I’ll cause a distraction,” she said.

It was dark when we arrived at the club. A line of eager clubbers were waiting to be let in. We parked on the next street and I joined the line, sneaking forward until I reached the front. I handed my pay card to a grim-faced bouncer. His card reader confirmed payment, green-lighting me to go into the club. I was supposed to walk through the scanner. But then the scanner started beeping, even though nobody was stepping through. Bane worked fast.

“Machine’s not working,” the bouncer said. “Got to frisk you.”

“Okay,” I said demurely, like I was looking forward to his hands pawing my body. He’d find my Omni if he looked in my handbag.

Luckily, he never got the chance.

The sudden breaking of his kneecap, by a silent rubber bullet fired from across the street, caused him to scream. “My knee! My knee!”

While he was distracted, I slipped into the hot darkness inside the club. My bones vibrated to the subsonic beat of the music, as I glanded adrenaline and crossed the overcrowded dance floor, making my way to a closed door. A sign stating PRIVATE: NO ENTRY suggested I was going the right way. Two armed men were on the other side with Yellow Star tattoos. I shot them and descended a staircase into a long grey corridor with a dozen unmarked doors. Another man was sitting on a chair at the far end. He had an Omni on his lap—but I shot him before he used it. I looked in several storage rooms filled with crates of black-market goods before locating one where I could hear male voices.

I went in low and fast. My sister was tied to a chair, guarded by two men. One had a coffee-burned face. My Omni took care of them both.

It didn’t take long to free Shada and make our way to an emergency exit into an alley, where my mother had parked the van. We jumped in the back. Our mother drove us away, very fast.

Shada looked confused. “Chara, is this real or am I hallucinating?”

“It’s real.”

“Who’s the girl?”

“That’s your mom.”

“What?”

“Long story.”

“Where are we going?”

“The Justice Building.”

That was five months ago. A lot has happened since. Now everyone involved in the sabotage is locked up in The Tomb.

Thanks to the publicity around the scandal, my sister was hired by Maxx Impact to model for him on Nexus Prime.

She loves her new job.

I have a new partner—Radford—and the reformed Sunstone Corporation hired my exonerated mother to build a better space elevator.

I can see it rising into the sky from my apartment.

It’s amazing.

Just like my life–now it’s whole again.

My little sister Gilla found the robot in the ruins, trapped under rock and earth, with only his head and shoulders showing above the ground. She looked frightened when I arrived, but I was fascinated. His metallic eyes were huge and glowing and alive when I bent down beside his chrome skull, daring to touch the cold metal. I felt a low vibration in my hand until I pulled it away. The robot’s eyes swivelled and focused on me. They flashed red. A warning? I was afraid – but I didn’t run. If he could have escaped, he would have done it long ago. He had been there for enough time for lichen to grow over his shiny metal flesh. He couldn’t escape without my help. Tiny insects crawled over my fingers, tickling me, as I stood up and stepped back, studying him in the bright sunlight spearing into the forest glade.

Gilla frowned. “What happened to him, Bo?”

“I don’t know,” I answered. “Looks like a landslide trapped him.”

“Is he hurt?”

“Technically, I don’t think robots can be hurt. They don’t feel pain. But he could be damaged. No way of telling unless he’s dug out. I doubt he is seriously damaged, though. Robots like him were warriors designed to survive nuclear blasts. A few rocks wouldn’t break him.”

“Do you think he’s dangerous?”

“Yes,” I said. “Very.”

The robot’s eyes turned cobalt blue, softening his appearance. He didn’t look quite as threatening with blue eyes. I guessed he wanted me to free him. But I wasn’t rushing to do anything. I remembered the stories of the Third World War told to me by the Elders and the Council of Education. The hulking metal monster was a General Attack Model 1800. Pretty basic mech – just a battle bot with no self-replicating tech. They built them in underground factories in the Balkans. They stopped making his model 500 years ago. Back then all the land around us had been a dead black radioactive wasteland – the official war zone designated by the Two Great Powers – but life had returned once the war ended.

Gilla stared at me. “Should we tell the Elders?”

“No,” I said.

“But they say we should always report anything weird we find outside the village. It’s the law.”

“Imagine what they would do with a robot. They’d order him to fight the other villages. War would start again.”

“So what do we do?”

I didn’t know. It was peaceful in the clearing, listening to the musical birdsong and buzzing insects, the hot sun warming my face.

The robot’s eyes turned a warm orange. He looked friendly. He wanted me to dig him up. It must have been a terrible fate being trapped for 500 years. Had he reprogrammed himself so he was no longer dangerous? Did he feel remorse for killing so many people?

I looked around the clearing and came to a decision.

“Help me find some more rocks and stones.”

Iam Babel. This is my city. A confusion of tongues chatter on every level, human and alien, background noise for life in the busiest, most crowded capital in the Sixty Worlds. I hear them all and talk to them on the Common Band, providing instructions and guidance to all of my citizens. I hear and see all through ten billion eyes linked to my mind.

I am their god in the sky.