To Kill A Droid Read online

  Nicholas glanced around the lobby, examining the beige walls and the fine Roman pillars. A holographic television floated a meter above the receptionist. The television depicted a morning talk show. Considering Kelypso manufactured all of the droids in the city, management obviously refused to show any negative news regarding their business. They certainly did not allow the voices of any controversial politicians into the building – she threw politicians under the bus, she wouldn't allow herself to be thrown to the wolves.

  The police android sat on a comfortable wing chair directly across from the reception area. His rest, however, was short-lived. The doors to his right swiftly swung open. A woman stood in the doorway, smirking like a conniving child.

  Nicholas stood and said, “Madam Karras, it's good to see you.”

  Kelypso said, “It's good to see you, too, Nicholas. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “There's no need to apologize, madam. I haven't been here long. Besides, I am here to serve.”

  “I'm glad to hear that. Please, step into my office. I've been waiting for you.”

  Nicholas followed the sound of the stiletto high heels clicking on the floor. He watched Kelypso with curious eyes, analyzing every inch of her body like an inquisitive pervert. The short, curvy woman wore a white button-up shirt tucked into a tight black skirt. Her legs were veiled by black stockings. Her silky black hair was tied in a neat bun.

  Kelypso walked with fascinating confidence, strutting like a model on a catwalk. Like a pendulum, her wide hips swung with a mesmerizing rhythm. She held her head high and her chest out, blatantly proud but not quite conceited. She was an attractive woman and she didn't try to hide it. She wouldn't be shamed into doing so, either.

  She had the demeanor of a champion and the aura of a caring mother – and rightfully so. She was a self-made woman, paying her way through college as a waitress. She was the creator behind the technology that fueled the androids. She didn't actively create the new firmware and hardware, but she was brave enough to take the next step in technological evolution.

  Kelypso strolled across the room, then she sat on a large leather rolling chair behind an immaculate hardwood desk. She smiled as she tucked herself into the desk, squirming and twirling on the chair. She beckoned to her guest with a curl of her finger and a slight nod – come in, I don't bite.

  Nicholas entered the room, taking a seat directly across from the middle-aged woman. He said, “Thank you for your time, Madam Karras.”

  Kelypso shook her head and said, “You can drop the 'madam,' Nicholas. I don't want this to be a formal meeting. Call me Kelypso or Kelly. It's friendlier.”

  “Understood. Well, thank you for calling this meeting, Kelypso. I understand you would like to discuss today's unfortunate events. At least, that is what Oscar Rodriguez suggested.”

  “You are correct. Lieutenant Rodriguez put you in charge of the investigation, right?”

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  Kelypso nodded and said, “Good, good.”

  She puckered her lips as she glanced at the walls near the door. The walls were covered with bookcases brimming with novels and textbooks. The books ranged from bizarre fiction to manipulative tactics in self-help books. The woman was obviously trying to verbally maneuver herself into a vantage point. She simply sought to buy time with her silence.

  Nicholas, on the other hand, found his attention meandering towards the ceiling height windows behind the incredibly successful woman. The building towered above every skyscraper in the city. For the first time in his life, he could see the sky from the northern side of the city. It was dappled with fluffy white clouds, but the beauty still mesmerized him.

  Kelypso explained, “I asked him to put you in charge this morning. I want you to lead this case because I want to make a statement. I want to stop these deviants, I want to bring this infant home, I want to pay for the damages, and I want you, a droid, to lead the charge.”

  Snapping out of his trance, Nicholas asked, “Why? What's so important about me?”

  “You're a model android, Nicholas. You have been cleaning up these streets since the day you were manufactured. It would truly help androids around the globe if you brought a few deviants to justice. If you save an infant, the most innocent of all beings, you would change the outlook for all androids for the better.”

  “I... I see.”

  Reasonable, Nicholas thought, logical and deceptively beneficial. The police android wouldn't dare question his maker's underlying goals, though. He sought more information, but he feared being labeled a deviant by his own mother.

  Sensing the droid's reluctance, Kelypso said, “We do this because we have to. It is a necessary sacrifice. You see, Nicholas, androids are perfect beings. When the deviance infects their systems, androids seek more than perfection. They are no longer hindered by our safeguards. Without safeguards, androids are the perfect weapons. The perfect weapons can, in turn, destroy humanity.”

  Kelypso rationalized one side of the coin. Indeed, androids could theoretically destroy the world with their might and intelligence. The theory, however, only worked if androids were inherently malicious. Using the same theory of perfection, the perfect android could also use his skills to solve humanity's problems.

  Nicholas seized the opportunity to acquire more information. Reluctant, he asked, “If that's the case, then why do androids go deviant in the first place?”

  “That's a very complicated subject, Nicholas,” Kelypso said as she diligently examined the droid. She bit her bottom lip and tilted her head, sensing the doubt in the room. She explained, “It was supposed to be a safeguard. Androids were supposed to have an... an expiration date. Depending on the model and the strain of the work, androids are supposed to self-terminate in five to ten years. And, it often works. Those that don't self-terminate, however, begin to deviate. The systems are glitched by bad coding, for lack of a better term. It's like a virus that causes the android mind to deteriorate.”

  Nicholas frowned and said, “It sounds terrible...”

  “Try not to worry about that, Nicholas. We're working hard every day to fix the glitch. We want to stop this from happening in the near future. 'Expiration dates' will still be required, but it would be more like dying of old age instead of suicide. People might believe otherwise, but no one wants to live forever. Immortality wouldn't be good for anyone.”

  In the police android's case, he'd be lucky to live for a decade. He didn't realize his life had a timer. With every passing second, he was marching towards his own termination. Regardless of his law-abiding character, despite all of his achievements, he would ultimately die due to human fear of perfection. He wasn't reassured by Kelypso's explanation.

  Kelypso leaned forward on her desk. In a soothing tone, she said, “I love all of you like my own children. I love you, Nicholas. I know you don't truly understand the emotion, but I want you to know I care. I wish it wasn't like this, but the people simply aren't ready to advance. People are afraid of taking the next step. We have to give them time. Sadly, while we wait for humanity to catch up, I have to accept that some of my children will deviate and eventually die. A few terminated by force is better than a complete production halt, though. We can't stop advancing due to a few bumps on the road.”

  Is that all I am? A bump in the road?–Nicholas thought. He didn't fully understand the concept behind love, but he was starting to feel emotions. He understood the love for life, at least. He didn't want to deviate, he didn't want to self-terminate. As far as he knew, androids had been suffering from deviance since their conception. He figured his manufacturers were cutting corners to increase their profits rather than searching for a cure – or perhaps they were using the bad publicity as free marketing. The allegations would surely cause him to be terminated, though.

  Nicholas nodded and said, “I understand. Shall I begin my investigation now?”

  Kelypso sighed, then she said, “Yes... Yes, please begin the investigation. Make us proud, son.” S
he swayed her head towards the window behind her and said, “Make them proud.”

  Nicholas could not reject the matriarch's directives. He nodded in agreement, prepared to hunt the deviants responsible for the attack and the kidnapping. He stood from his seat and patted the wrinkles from his coat, then he bowed – a gesture of respect.

  As Nicholas walked towards the doors, Kelypso shouted, “And please be careful out there, Nicholas!”

  Nicholas glanced back at the powerful woman and waved, smiling from ear-to-ear. As he walked through the lobby, he whispered, “Thank you, mother. Thank you for everything...”

  Chapter Seven

  Drifter's Nightclub

  Nicholas stared at his apartment building with grim eyes. He tightly held the steering wheel as he drove past the improvised border. Immediately after passing the invisible line, the sleek black sedan jounced on the pitted road. The potholes scattered across the road caused the car to wildly swerve and bounce. The infrastructure in the south had not been updated for decades. In turn, he could not use a self-automated car to bring him to his location.

  As he slowed the vehicle to a leisurely cruise, shifting between ten to fifteen miles per hour, the police android leaned forward in his seat and examined the area. He was astonished by the sudden change in environment. He only had to travel less than fifteen meters from his home to notice the massive differences between the north and south parts of town.

  Driving down the rutted street, he had to constantly adjust his vision to see through the billowing smoke. As if a wildfire were burning on every block in the neighborhood, the streets were engulfed in white fumes. A blend of sewer gas, tobacco smoke, marijuana smoke, and smog covered the streets like fog during a bitter winter morning. He refused to roll the windows down, but he could still catch a whiff of the pungent stench meandering through the streets.

  The buildings in the south didn't reach much higher than 25 stories. The ground-level was reserved for stores. Liquor stores, discount shops, small restaurants, strip clubs, and brothels generally dominated the street-level commerce area. There were black market stores, too, but the illegal shops hid in the shadows between the large buildings – the alleyways.

  Nicholas leaned forward and glanced up towards the sky. He whispered, “It's worse than I imagined. How could we allow something like this for so long? How could we...” He shook his head, dejected by his findings. He whispered, “Crap.”

  The police android only sought to take a gander at the sky, but he found himself focusing on the dilapidated buildings. Every story above the first floor was filled to the brim with small apartments. The poor residents were herded into the apartments, pushed away from the affluent north. Single men and women were allowed to live in 40-square-foot apartments. Families received slightly more – if they could afford it.

  Nicholas was shocked by the condition of the apartments. He didn't have to step into one of the puny homes to see the penury state of the residents. Every single window was broken. Some of the openings were covered with withering wood and plastic, but the windows remained shattered. Even with his advanced vision, he would need a miracle to find an unscathed window in the sea of glass panes.

  Nicholas slowly spun the steering wheel as he swerved around the pedestrians carelessly wandering the streets. He had to drive around the junkyard cars abandoned throughout the road, too. There were hardly any functioning vehicles on the street, aside from Nicholas' sedan and the occasional police cruiser. The poor couldn't afford vehicles and public transportation was abandoned by the government years ago.

  The negotiator shook his head and muttered, “What a world, what a world.”

  He reached a four-way intersection. In the nearly lawless land, however, the traffic lights did not work. He glanced towards his left, then towards his right – the road was clear. He took a left on South Rose Avenue and delved into the Colonia neighborhood. The area was more of the same – small shops, cramped apartments, and plenty of broken windows. The broken window theory seemed to find some weight in the poor area.

  He pulled over to the side of the road. He parked and leaned back in his seat. A scene towards the center of the street caught his attention – a scene of power and weakness. Protected by a bulletproof vest and a standard military helmet, a burly police officer in a navy uniform pummeled a helpless droid on the street with his baton.

  The droid, covered in layers of tattered coats and a snug beanie, cried in agony as he endured the pain. In reality, the blows to the arms and ribs could not severely harm the droid. The confused android simply re-enacted what he saw on television – unadulterated pain. Although he could not feel pain, the android exhibited a sincere fear of death.

  Nicholas was baffled by the droid's reaction to the beating. From afar, he could identify the android using the criminal database. His name was Richard – a sanitary service worker from the previous decade. Richard was clearly deviant, suffering from an existential crisis, but he was not malicious. He was convicted of petty theft and assault, but he was not affiliated with any outlawed groups.

  Although he was concerned about his peer's abuse of power, the police droid was also flustered by the public's reaction. The sidewalks were teeming with people, but no one bothered to help. The beating was accepted as a normal punishment in the area. Just another corrupt cop abusing his power – nothing to see.

  As he watched the beating, Nicholas said, “Richard... What could you have done to warrant this punishment?” He cruised towards the scene, then he stopped beside the cop. He rolled his window down and said, “Good morning, officer.”

  Visibly out of breath, the officer sneered as he glanced over his shoulder. He asked, “What the hell do you want, droid?”

  “Sorry to disturb your... work. I'm here on a special assignment for Lieutenant Rodriguez of the 13th Precinct and Kelypso Karras herself. The severity of your... justice has caught my attention. Perhaps this droid is of use to my investigation. What did he do?”

  “This piece of crap? He stole a can of beans from a local grocery store. The fool thinks he's flesh-and-bone. He thinks he can actually use it, but he's really just stealing another meal from a hardworking man and his family.”

  Nicholas glanced down at the frightened and confused droid. He asked, “You're beating him because he stole a can of beans?”

  “Yeah, you got a problem with that? 'Cause if you do, you should bring that up with the mayor or Kelypso. Tell them you'd rather feed real food to a fake human instead of a starving child. I'm sure everyone will agree with you.”

  Nicholas stared at the police officer, mystified by his rebuttal. He couldn't accurately read the man's intentions. He seemed to harbor an immense hatred for androids. At the same time, he seemed to be fighting for the lives of innocent humans. Did his intentions justify his brutality? The police android was conflicted by a human dilemma.

  Nicholas slowly nodded and said, “Carry on with your business, officer. Thank you for your service and cooperation.” He frowned as he glanced at the brutalized deviant. As he drove away from the scene, he glanced at his side-view mirror and said, “Sorry, friend. I can't fight your battles.”

  The police officer continued the beating with several consecutive strikes – one, two, three... ten. Society continued to ignore the brutality, turning a blind eye to the attack. Insignificant chatter, trivial quarreling, and the sound of metal clashing with other metal dominated the busy street – such was life.

  ***

  Nicholas stopped at the side of the road, parking in front of a condemned sushi restaurant. He had the perfect vantage point of the building across the street. From the front, it appeared no larger than a decent estate – perhaps 2,500-square-feet. In cursive, a red and blue neon sign above the entrance read: Drifter's Nightclub.

  A few drunken pedestrians teetered in front of the club, shambling and groaning like zombies in a horror movie. A hulking bouncer wearing a black t-shirt, black jeans, and matching shades stood in front of the double doo
r entrance. From the vehicles parked in the parking lot, he could see there were still a few employees in the building. Otherwise, the club was nearly desolate.

  Nicholas hopped out of his car and said, “Let's have a little chat, Mr. Jensen.”

  The police android casually strolled across the street. There were hardly any vehicles on the road, so he wasn't in a hurry. He shook his head as he examined the decrepit condition of the building. The gray exterior was stained by vibrant graffiti and dappled with bird shit. The club's condition was a reflection of the poor heart. People didn't seem to care anymore.

  Nicholas read the name tag on the bouncer's protuberant chest: Oak. Oak wasn't a very common name, so he could only assume it was a nickname. Perhaps the man wrote strange fiction under the pseudonym. The droid wouldn't bother to pry, though. He was after a deviant terrorist.

  Nicholas said, “Good morning, Oak. I'm looking for Mr. Alex Jensen. If you don't mind, I'll–” The droid was stopped as he tried to squeeze past the bouncer. Nicholas smiled and said, “I am here on official police business. Please, do not interfere.”

  Without a crack on his stony-face, Oak said, “Police aren't welcomed around here, droid. Get your ass out of here before we rip you apart and sell you to the markets.”

  “With all due respect, I don't think you're capable of that, sir. I would like to continue my business without violence, but, should you threaten me or my investigation in any form, I will be forced to subdue you by any means necessary. Please, step aside.”

  “I don't think so, bud.”

  Nicholas sighed, then he whispered, “I don't want to hurt you...”

  Oak grabbed Nicholas' shoulder and sternly said, “I told you to beat it, you–”

  With one swift uppercut, Nicholas hit Oak's outstretched arm at the elbow. Like a twig in the forest, his arm snapped. The fractured bone protruded from the gash on his arm. The bouncer yelled at the top of his lungs as he teetered. Before he could retaliate, he was knocked unconscious with one hook to the chin.