Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Hydraulic Heartbeat

This is based on a story at the Writing Forums for a competition in rewriting:

HYDRAULIC HEARTBEAT


“Unit John McCreary,” a robotic voice came out of his earpiece. “Another unit is down in your area.” A little red blip showed up on the screen between the handlebars of his hoverbike. “Report to the indicated location.”


He hit the air breaks and swung the bike into the next alley along the highlighted route. Up two more stories and down two more blocks in one of the seediest parts of the cityscape, he came across a raised covered walkway that bridged between two buildings. Stepping off, he pulled up a plasma pistol and switched his HUD to infrared. Ahead, he saw nothing but fog. Behind him, a light that could have been a candle flickered near the ground.

“Dispatch, I’ve located the unit.”

He approached it slowly, gun-raised in a crouched position, stooping even lower when he found the body. Her arms sprawled out to her side; hydraulic fluid seeped from wounds on her chest.

“Poor dame,” he said, pulling a cable out from the bottom of his pack. He peeled back the soft flesh on her right hip and jacked the cable into the port. “Dispatch, I’m recording her last seconds.”

In his left eye he saw a tall man, scars over one eye pointing a pistol at him. “You cheating on me?” he asked, a manic grin pulled across his bearded face.

“I—I—,” he heard the voice but couldn’t see the speaker. “I have only ever loved you, Jack.”

“Bullocks, dame,” the scarred man spat. “You’ve been spying on me.” The pistol whined in his hand, and a little wire jumped out from the barrel. John’s left eye vision started to vibrate, then went blurry. “Tin Man.”

The whole world shifted so that it looked as though Jack had shrunk. John knew that poor Esther, the downed unit, had gotten up to try to defend herself, systems still haywire from the virus shot. Before she could activate any of her weapons, Jack had put five shots into her, the last straight through her microprocessor, and all went black.

“Don’t worry, Esther,” John said, regaining his vision. “I’ll nail the bastard.” He pulled the cable out.

“Report, Unit John McCreary?”

“Unit Esther Cole no longer functioning. Infrared distress signal activated. Suspect: Jack Hardwood. Unit John McCreary in pursuit,” he said, jumping back onto his bike. “Request clean-up crew.”

He felt bad leaving her, but her parts wouldn’t rot away like flesh. Besides, taking her would only weigh him down, keep him from enacting justice. Still, as the city air brushed by him, he felt cold. Almost as cold as his prey…

This time he needed no highlighted route. He reached the Hardwood Diner on a kind of autopilot. He parked the bike out front, took out both pistols, and busted through the doorway.

“Gentlemen,” he said to the three customers inside. “Please vacate the premises.” No one stood up. “Very well, I shall vacate them for you.” He pumped each of them full of plasma before they could reach their guns. “Dispatch, a report of non-compliance by patrons of the—.”

Something slammed into him from the left, throwing him against the wall. By the time he raised his gun, something hit him in the hand, turning it into a twisted metal hulk.

“Thought you were quick, huh, Tin Man?” Hardwood asked, his whole body reeking of hydraulic fluid. He stepped out from behind the counter, pistol smoking. “Not quick enough.”

“Jack Hardwood, I place you under arrest in the name of the Commission. Non-compliance will result in your termination. For references, see previous patrons.”

“That’s funny, Tin Man. You don’t think I can kill you? Have you seen your bitch recently?”

“Have you?” Esther stepped through the doorway, half her face torn off. She raised her plasma pistol and emptied the clip into him. When she was finished, she turned to John. “Dispatch, second core reboot successful. Target neutralized.”

John got back to his feet, picking up his gun with his one good hand. “Sorry I left you behind.”

She shrugged. “We’re robots, John. Compassion is not in our nature.” She looked at Jack’s steaming chest. “Revenge? Well, that’s a different story.”

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