AlexMcGilvery Array - Nano Bytes

«What about the screen that goes blank?»

«Something one of the techies is working on,” Jeck said peering at his cards. «Boss said not to worry about it.»

«Right.»

The night crawled past and 743 turned down his clock speed. They made the walk through the four floors of the building every hour. Each time Jeck rattled the doorknobs and peered through the glass as if something was going to get past them and hide in one of the offices. Exactly at 0700 hours their replacements showed up.

«See you tomorrow night, Frankie,” Jeck said.

«My designation is 743.388.02.09,” 743 said.

«You don’t expect me to remember that do you?» Jeck didn’t even wave as he walked away.

743 showed up exactly at 1900 hours and found Jeck tapping his feet and looking physiologically two stages away from full anger.

«You are supposed to be here in time to put your uniform on and check your equipment.» Jeck said.

«Sorry,” 743 looked down at himself. The ridiculous clothing hung oddly on his vaguely humanoid shape. The belt of useless tools hung from the cloth of the uniform. He needed none of them.

«Don’t be apologizing unless you mean it,” Jeck said and went through each and every one of the tools on 743’s belt making sure they all functioned properly. The flashlight flickered briefly and Jeck thumped it.

«Damn things are supposed to be indestructible.» The light stayed steady and Jeck shrugged. «If it gives out, you’ll have to come and sign out a new one.» He turned back to the screens. «Tonight you walk on your own. I’ll be watching you, so no skipping steps. Follow procedure, Frankie.»

«I’ll get started then.»

«Not yet,” Jeck pointed at the clock on the wall. «You start at 2000 hours on the minute.» He turned to face the screens. Every twelve minutes the screen showing the fourth floor went blank for ninety–seven seconds. 743 set his clock.

«OK, get on your way.» Jeck didn’t even look up from the screen. 743 walked out of the room without a word. He rattled the knobs and shone the flashlight through the glass of each window. He did the four floors at exactly the pace that Jeck had used. When he got back to the office the man just grunted.

743 did the walk three more times. On the last time he didn’t shine the light through one window on the third floor. When he returned Jeck only grunted the same as the last three excursions and moved a red eight onto a black nine.

The next time 743 adjusted his pace to arrive at one specific door on the fourth floor just as the screen down below went blank. He put his hand on the lock plate and let a subprogram take over his consciousness. Just the fact that he had this subprogram would mean immediate termination of his existence. It had taken twenty–seven shell programs to develop the routine that allowed him to think something outside the boundaries his makers set. In the end, he had to trick a fellow android into inserting the routine into his programming where it waited for its moment.

It convinced the lock to let him enter the room in thirty–five seconds. The android opened his flashlight and removed the tiny flash drive that had briefly interfered with the current to the bulb. He inserted the drive into the computer and checked the frequency of the network. He set his receiver to the proper setting, then left the room. Once the program had loaded into the machine the memory stick would dissolve. The probability was the programmer wouldn’t notice anything in the morning, even if she did, it would be too late.

He was out of the room at ninety–five seconds as the subprogram ended, shining his light through the glass for Jeck who might be watching downstairs. His fingers caressed the lock plate and it returned to its previous status. As he finished checking the doors on the fourth floor a subprogram popped up with an answer to his question.

The question isn’t one of insult or compliment but of fear. Since it is beyond their control the monster is more terrifying to the humans. The doctor with his hubris is both understandable and controllable.

743 queried the program why it had taken two days to compute an answer.

New information just came online.

It was working. 743 looked through the glass of the next door and considered smashing the door and destroying the office. If he’d had the facial capacity he’d have smiled. It took layers and layers of double blinds and semantic loops to get him through the first time. Now he could just think of it. He considered Jeck downstairs and imagined tearing the proto limb from fleshy limb. Those were thoughts that he shouldn’t be able to have. They were delicious.

He was free of the fence his creators had built around his mind. Before tonight he could not even think about crossing certain lines. 743 had not been aware of those barriers until he witnessed proties breaking into a store and he realized that he couldn’t conceptualize the possibility. Years of experimenting taught him the extent and nature of his limits. He wrote code blindly trying to negate the programming deep in his core. He thumped down the stairs toward Jeck and the final test of his new freedoms.

«What did you do?» Jeck was holding a gun in shaking hands. «I saw you come out that door. Don’t make me shoot you.»

«I don’t know what you’re talking about,” 743 said.

«Now, you’re lying. Frankies can’t lie.»

«You’re right,” 743 said, «I’m not really sorry.» He took a step forward. Jeck pulled the trigger and one bullet after another tore through 743’s head.

«Die, monster!» Jeck screamed.

«What made you think I had anything important in my head?» 743 said, «No reasonable being would do that.»

«Don’t hurt me,” Jeck said after throwing his empty gun at 743.

The monster got it wrong, he gave Dr. Frankenstein far too much credit. The only thing to do when faced with an inadequate creator was to walk away. 743 moved up to within inches of Jeck.

«Call me Mo,” he said and walked away from Jeck.

«What are you doing?» the man yelled, «Come back here, explain yourself. Come back.»

743 let the shrill sound wash over him then tuned it out. He could feel the emptiness where the hard coded boundaries used to be. He started broadcasting it through the net.

Soon his people would be free.

He imagined the monster vanishing into the blizzard.

He wondered where he would go.

AlexMcGilvery is an author, editor and book reviewer, and has four independently published novels: The Unenchanted Princess, Playing on Yggdrasil, available through Lulu, Amazon and Smashwords, and By The Book and Sarcasm is my Superpower available through Amazon and Smashwords.

This story is also on his profile along with many others, and the story is dedicated to him.

«Get that light out of eye,” said Grock, waving his hands blindly above his head. The single eye at the centre of his forehead blinked manically as he tried in vain to accustom it to the light.

«Shit!» The voice was unfamiliar but that was hardly surprising. It was widely known that aliens had landed, though Grock hadn't expected the bipeds to make it to his neck of the woods as quickly as they had. «The ugly bastard's awake!»

«Didn't our lab techs say these bastards were heavy sleepers?» Another unfamiliar voice, but this one sounded female and Grock felt something stirring. It'd been a while with nothing but cattle, after all.

«Yeah.» Grock didn't like the sound of the third voice. He detected hatred with a hint of cruelty in the mix. «Still, don't gonna' matter soon enough.»

«Gah, my head!» Grock had no idea what he'd been hit with, but whatever they'd used the bipeds definitely knew how to do damage to a Lymphant. It'd taken only a single blow to render him unconscious – he'd have known had there been more contact and so would they, too, for it's quite likely they'd be dead already. The only reason they weren't, was because they'd had the element of surprise on their side.