Steven Kent - The Clone Republic

“I’ve done what I can, Sergeant,” the lieutenant said as he bent down to pick up his robot.

Shannon grabbed the man by his shoulders, pulled him straight, and then slung him backwards against the hull of the transport. “I don’t agree, sir,” Shannon whispered in a dangerous tone. “I think you can do more. I think you want to do more, because if that is all your useless bug-shit robot can do, I’m going to smash it. Do you understand me?”

“I’ll have you in the brig for this.” The lieutenant clutched the robot to his chest. His voice trembled as if he was about to cry.

Shannon picked up his particle beam and pointed it at the robot. “Right now, the safest place for Scooter is in that cave. Do you understand me, sir?”

The lieutenant’s show of officer anger faded, and behind it we saw the scared technician. “I spent a lot of time programming Scooter,” he pleaded. “If you want to locate hostiles, you can requisition a combat drone. That’s what they are made for.”

“I’m tired of arguing with you,” Shannon said as he reached for the robot. “If you aren’t going to send that bug into that cave, then it’s useless to me.”

“You’re insane,” the technician said.

“Even worse,” Lee said to me only. “He’s a Liberator.”

“Get specked,” I shot back.

“Sorry.”

Staring at Sergeant Shannon, the technician must have realized that he had no options. Shannon was out of control, of course, and there might be a court-martial awaiting him when he returned to the fleet. But for the moment, with no available help, the lieutenant had no choice but to do as he was told. He passed Scooter over to Shannon.

Taking great care to be gentle, Shannon placed the robot on the ground.

“Scooter, enter cave,” the lieutenant spoke into the microphone in a pouting voice. He turned to Shannon. “You will have hell to pay.”

“No doubt,” Shannon mumbled.

Shannon, Lee, and I bent over the monitor to follow Scooter’s progress. The little robot zipped past our men and into the cave, then resumed its original path. The lieutenant kept his microphone close to his lips, issuing whispered orders. “Proceed at half speed.” “Slower. Slower.” “Stay close to the wall.” “Pause and hide at the first sign of activity.” “Scan for electrical fields.”

“Can you brighten this transmission?” Shannon asked.

“The monitor has gamma controls, but you’ll lose screen resolution,” the lieutenant said.

He fiddled with the controls, brightening the scene. The gamma controls made a big difference. Suddenly we could see footprints and tire tracks on the ground.

Fifteen minutes after Scooter entered the cave, the robot started to detect sound waves. They were faint, but the robot registered them as human speech.

“Okay, Sergeant, here is a voiceprint. I’m bringing my robot back.”

“Can you give me a visual feed of the men?” Shannon asked.

Still not looking at Shannon, the technician uttered a few inaudible words. Shannon repeated the question, and the man shook his head.

“The robot stays down there until I see people.”

Looking around the cave from our Scooter’s-eye point of view, I began to feel motion sickness. The fish-eye distortion left me dizzy, and I really had no idea what we were looking for.

“I don’t see any people,” Shannon complained.

“Sound carries well in caverns; they may still be a half mile farther in,” the tech answered. “This is obviously the right chamber. You’ve located your target. I’m bringing my robot back.”

“Not until I get my visual confirmation,” Shannon snapped. “I want to know the best way to get to the enemy. I want to know how many men they have and how well fortified they have made their position. Most of all, I want to see how close Scooter can get to those Mogats before they start shooting. And, Lieutenant, I really do not give a shit if they hit Scooter. Got it?” Shannon said all of this in a single breath.

As soon as the robot heard voices, its self-preservation programming became active. Scooter moved at an unbearably slow pace, hugging closer to the wall than ever. The reduced speed was helpful. Scooter was several miles into the caves, and his path exposed tributaries and side caverns. Its slowing down gave us more time to study the video images.

Eventually, Scooter turned a corner and neared the spot where the Mogats had dug in. We could not see them, but we could see the dim reflection of distant lights on obsidian walls. The robot continued its slow roll forward, inching ahead like a scared mouse.

We heard the guards before we saw them. Scooter rounded a huge knob in a wall, and suddenly we heard voices echoing. The image on the monitor turned bright as a man stepped right over Scooter. The robot watched as two men walked away, swinging lanterns.

“They almost spotted him,” the technician said. “Are you satisfied?”

“Not really,” said Shannon.

“Get specked!” the lieutenant shouted. I thought he would recall his robot, but he made no move to pick up his microphone. We watched on the monitor as Scooter continued ahead for another few minutes, until the little robot reached a fork in the path. It paused and hid behind a rock, blocking most of our view on the monitor.

That time, even Shannon did not complain. Four men walked right next to the camera. One of them almost stepped on Scooter. They did not see the probe. They kept talking as they walked through the passage and disappeared into a tributary. Once they were gone, Scooter’s self-preservation programming went into overdrive, and the little robot scurried in the opposite direction.

“Wh—” Shannon started to say something and stopped. He bent forward, practically pressing his visor against the monitor. “Can you roll the video signal back?”

The scene on the monitor ran in reverse.

“Stop,” Shannon said. He studied the image and traced it with his finger. He scrolled the image forward and backward on the monitor. “Can you analyze this through other lenses?”

I looked over Shannon’s shoulder and saw what he was looking at. There were two large metal cases; machines of some sort. A series of pipes ran through and around them.

“I have heat and sound readings,” the tech said.

The heat reading was immense. The heat signatures showed yellow with a bleached corona. I didn’t know what the Mogats used the machines for, but they were practically

on fire.

“Can you ID this equipment?” Shannon asked.

The technician shook his head.

Shannon turned back to the monitor. “Has your robot left virtual beacons?” Shannon asked.

“Yes.”

“All the way down?”

“Yes,” the lieutenant said. “All the way.”

“Can you upload that information to me on the inter-Link?” Shannon asked.

“No problem,” the lieutenant hissed. A moment later, Scooter rushed from the cave and streaked right to the lieutenant, who picked it up and loaded it into its case.

“That’s a magnificent robot you have, sir. The Navy needs more of them,” Shannon said with a crazed laugh.

“Harris, I need to contact mobile command. I think we might be off this rock in another few hours.”

“Dammit, Shannon!” McKay snapped. “What in God’s name did you do? There’s a lieutenant demanding a firing squad. A firing squad! He claims you assaulted him and threatened to shoot him.”

I could not tell if Shannon had purposely included me in their conversation, so I listened in silence.

“In point of fact, sir, that would not be correct. I threatened to shoot Scooter.”

“What the speck is Scooter?” McKay asked.