Chapter 2 – Rebels #7
The light in the white room dimmed automatically and the screen lit up.
A monotonous voice explained something about the War of Nations and the role that robots played in it.
Nauseated, Marci watched as humanlike robots charged at each other, using their laser weapons to dismember each other.
Blood sprayed and limbs flew through the air like a bad video game from the early twenties, with the difference that the holopresentation made Marci recoil several times, thinking that the bloody body parts were about to land in her lap.
As she considered whether it would be better if she shut her eyes, hundreds of thousands of highly equipped bodies smashed into each other like soulless mechanical humans in a movie.
“Obviously, they could have just set basic battle tanks or drones against each other,” explained Cathrin, who had guessed her thoughts without revealing what she felt as the robots that she had perfected were sent by governments into battle to be ruthlessly shredded.
“But over the course of the war, they noticed that battles between pieces of equipment didn’t evoke the same reaction from the audiences.
In the beginning, it led to uncertain outcomes with no outright victor because the machines simply destroyed each other completely.
With humanlike combat robots, it’s more like a giant game of chess.
Only the side with the smartest machines that proves its superiority by pitting robot against robot can achieve a clear victory that pleases the audience, whatever nation they’re from.
In these war scenarios, it’s important not to forget one thing – for ordinary people, they’re a replacement for watching sports matches, so people end up rooting for their particular army.
It’s the only way they can relate to what they see and accept the horrific costs that ultimately, they pay for through their taxes. ”
Marci could hardly bear to watch as the camera zoomed in on severely injured robots trying stoically to stand up even though the whole of their lower body had been hacked to pieces. She wondered how Jack could have survived such hell and helped Will escape, too.
“Using such highly equipped machines is just too expensive in the long term,” continued Cathrin factually, “so that’s why they started making use of a pool of people that had been categorised as worthless, by kidnapping them and converting them into hybrid robots.”
Another shot showed a completely naked man being rendered unconscious on an operating table and his ribcage and skull opened up with a laser.
Several bits of hybrid technology made from lab-grown materials were then implanted in him, strengthening his vital functions, making his heart and lungs more efficient and also stimulating muscle growth throughout his whole body.
“This is highly controversial footage that was leaked to us from insiders who work in MacIntyre’s secret laboratories.
I don’t need to emphasise that they’re risking their lives doing this,” noted Cathrin sombrely.
“Finally, chips are planted in the kidnapped victim’s brain, turning them into aggressive, fearless fighters,” she explained to Marci bluntly.
“Ninety-five per cent of these men die in the first week of combat on the battlefield because they’re deployed as spearheads.
Centuries ago they would have been known as cannon fodder,” she added almost dispassionately.
“The robots are then deployed in the rear-guard; they use earlier events to build up an image of the opponent’s strategy so they can attack more effectively. ”
Marci didn’t care about the governments’ attack strategies and she didn’t want to understand them, either.
The only thing that concerned her was that Will had met a totally pointless death in this manner.
The lump in her throat was so large that she couldn’t even swallow when Will’s last recordings appeared on the screen.
Jack had apparently made them using his iris camera, a smart lens that was fitted in every robot’s eye and fed them a constant stream of key information about their immediate surroundings.
Marci could see him using his strong arms to carry a badly injured Will to safety, away from the danger zone.
She cried silent tears as she felt Jack’s warm hand on her shoulder, like the protective shield that he’d been unable to give Will.
She barely noticed as the recordings showed Jack hijacking a military medical glider, putting a badly injured Will inside and frantically connecting him to his own blood supply.
A few moments later, he’d undertaken a series of bold evasive manoeuvres to escape from the danger zone under constant shelling by both enemy and home forces.
But the most difficult test was still to come.
The recording ended, and Cathrin brought out the sleek titanium sarcophagus that had been kept for her in a side room.
She rolled it up to Marci, keeping it at a level so that Marci didn’t have to stand up to see what was inside once the lid was removed.
Marci couldn’t stay in her seat; she leaped up, wanting to be sure that it really was Will whose profile she could now see.
She stared down in shock at his closed eyes, her body as stiff as Will’s, whose head lay in a thick mist, frozen in nitrogen, his lips curved in a soft smile.
The rest of his body had been covered by a silver blanket.
“Why is he smiling?” asked Marci in a weak voice. She felt sure she was going to faint at any minute.
“Because your name was on his lips when he died,” answered Jack gently. “Do you want to see it?” he asked. “I left the recorder running because his last words were directed to you.”
“No,” whispered Marci, her head spinning. “I don’t want to see him die. I can’t…” She felt the dam break inside her and could no longer hold back the tears.
As Cathrin removed the sarcophagus, Jack gathered her to him, holding her like a child in his strong arms. She felt his large hand holding her head to his chest and heard the beat of his powerful, mechanical heart.
He rocked her, stroking her back gently.
It was a compassionate gesture, but it only made things worse; Marci let the tears spill out, sobbing on the robot’s chest and clinging to him.
All of a sudden, she was just pleased to have someone who at least seemed to be sympathetic to her plight, even if she wasn’t certain how seriously she should take the sympathy of a robot.
Cathrin brought her something to drink, and it definitely had a sedative in it because, as Jack gently helped her to down the slightly sour mixture, she suddenly stopped crying. Eventually, she felt able to think clearly again and made up her mind.
“I may be just a cleaner, but I want to help you fight against people like MacIntyre and the PanAmerican government, who are both responsible for Will’s death,” she declared flatly, “even if it’s the last thing I do for Will. His death must not be in vain.”