Chapter 11
Miles and Garth raced down the corridor, taking no chances to be seen by any wandering Callos they ducked behind crates left by some lazy custodian. Miles nearly tripped over his oversized survey suit, he and Garth had used thin metal wires to secure the suit enough for running, but the suit still dragged slightly on the ground as Miles ran. The psychiatric ward alarm had just started to blare and an influx of hospital orderlies were running down the hall. Regardless of the path they tried to take, hospital staff congested each hallway, obviously something important had happened.
“Callos are inherently curious, they rush to the scene of an accident, and it isn’t the best quality of our species.” Garth explained.
Miles caught Garth by the arm and directed him towards the placard on the wall: a map of CLERGY 5’s hospital, the shape resembled the petals of a flower.
Apparently the emergency was occurring at the center of the hospital, Miles traced his finger along the map and found a small access route to the middle, and a busy Callos nurse ran past the two, oblivious to the human. The two turned and Garth unfastened a lock and crouched down a crawled down the chute intended for medical courts.
The corridor got narrower as they went down the chute, the metal lining was cold as Miles bumped his shoulders against the siding. The chute had no light and Miles began to give in to his claustrophobia; the air felt thin and he began to hyperventilate. Garth ushered him along prodding his with his elbow, but Garth retreated as Mile’s started to glimmer slightly. Mile’s arms glowed more brightly and the chute around him started to warp. Miles voice was raspy because his voice was seemingly caught in his throat:
“We need to turn back. I can’t do this.” He panicked.
“We are probably half way there.” Garth encouraged, “Keep going, I think I see the end.” He lied.
“We are nowhere near the middle yet, just back up; we will leave the way we came.” Miles commanded in a small voice.
“No. Really we need to keep going. Close your eyes or something, keep walking.” Garth refused.
Miles struggled to turn himself around; he tried to lie down but was unable to turn himself.
“Garth, crawl over me. I’ll head back then.” Miles suggested.
“No. I will not turn around. We don’t have a lot of time; once this emergency ends we will be spotted easily. This is our chance to rescue her.” Garth refused.
“Garth, dammit. Climb over me!” Miles shouted forcibly, in his lying position he started to try to crawl backwards beneath Garth. Garth resisted and pushed at Miles’ feet to move him forward, and then Miles began to kick at Garth.
“Stop being such a baby. Keep going. You’re wasting time!” Garth shouted as Miles kicked at him.
“I can’t breath! The air is too thin.” Miles stopped fighting in exhaustion.
“If you can’t breathe, then keep going.” Garth stubbornly reasoned.
Miles accepted defeat and returned to a squatting position and began to walk forward. Garth gave Miles a congratulatory pat on the back once they saw the frame of light where the door at the end of the chute waited.
“Try to be stealthy when you…” Garth tried to suggest. But Miles threw to door open with a slam and fell out into the brightly lit corridor. The two took a few moments for their eyes to adjust.
All they could see was brightly glaring, mostly yellow and white filled their vision. Mile’s eyes adjusted first; the corridor was empty save for some crates lined up against the wall.
“I hadn’t even noticed that the alarm stopped.” Miles observed.
“No. Neither did I. Where is everybody?” Garth asked.
The two crept closer to the end of the hall and peeked around the corner, black and yellow clothed Callos walked along the hall placing numbered placards.
“What is going on?” Miles asked.
“They are detectives, this is a crime scene. While you were being stubborn in the chute they must have closed off the area.” Garth explained.
Miles peeked around the corner again; the detectives approached a large box and activated a spider-like robot which then sprayed foam next to each of the yellow placards.
“An automated assistant?” Miles asked.
“No. Well, sort of. We call them automated mechanics; their primary job is to patch holes on the exterior of the Convoy vessels. You know, should there be minor damage to be repaired.” Garth explained.
Miles checked around the corner again: the spider’s foam hardened and the Callos detective took a chisel-like instrument and scraped off from the floor the now amber-colored crystal.
“I get it. They are using the repair foam to make casts and preserve evidence.” Miles whispered. But Garth had left him.
Miles turned around and saw Garth at the far end of the corridor.
“What are you doing?” He hissed.
“Come over here.” Garth called and signaled with his hand.
Miles tiptoed away from the crime scene back towards the chute. Both continually glanced over their shoulders to ensure that none of the detectives were working their way over. Garth was crouched behind a crate and Miles joined him behind it.
“Ok. What are you doing?” Miles asked.
“Check this box.” Garth directed.
Miles stood and looked down into the crate; a deactivated metal octopus, much like the one that they had hidden from in the laboratory.
“I can reactivate it.” Garth beamed.
“Why?” Miles looked back at Garth puzzled.
“We can use the automated assistant to check the scene for us, to see if Doctor Tarrus is in there.” Garth suggested.
“You don’t think that maybe Doctor Tarrus is dead in there do you? Like the Admiral cleaned house or something?” Miles asked.
“I hadn’t considered that.” Garth slouched slightly.
Miles tried to comfort him: “Hey, go ahead and activate the octopus.”
“Octopus?” Garth stopped.
“Oh, it was a creature with eight arms, like this thing.” Miles explained.
“That would be terrifying!” Garth said in amazement, a bit too loudly.
Miles hushed him with his hand, in a quiet voice: “Do it.”
Garth complied and set about activating the automated assistant; the machine beeped to life and several light indicators flashed. The miniature repulsors on the round body of the machine glowed and began to power up, the long antennas on the top of the robot glowed red at the tips... The sleek black metal-plated round body shuddered slightly and lifted the robot up a few feet off of the ground, the eight limbs handing limply. A large round white light lit up on the face of the body:
“That is the diode indicator; basically it is the brain and face of the assistant.”
The light shined with a green tint and dimmed slightly:
“That means the robot is in a state of stasis, it hasn’t been given any commands and it isn’t busy.” Garth explained.
The robot’s audio output began to buzz static:
“Hello. I am Octorl, personal automated assistant specializing in the precise manipulation of tools, language, and mathematics.” The robot presented its self.
“The thing has a name?” Miles asked.
“Of course it has a name. Why would you have an assistant without a name?” Garth answered.
Octorl whirred his repulsors and floated quietly, his arms began to lift into a resting position, his arms lit at the tips and they pointed their lights at Garth’s and Miles’ faces.
“Greetings.” Octorl stated.
“Hey.” Miles greeted.
“Hello.” Garth greeted. “I have a command.”
“State command.” Octorl responded automatically.
“Please head down the hallway and analyze the crime scene. Inform of us any casualties or arrests. We are looking for Doctor Lalia Tarrus.” Garth ordered.
The robot paused for a moment, it’ screen flashed yellow:
“It is lo
oking through the Callos personnel database. It is capable of facial and voice recognition; its owner must have erased its memory system.” Garth explained.
Octorl’s indicator shined white and he hummed along the hall and turned the corner.
“We should probably wait back in the chute.” Miles suggested.
The two climbed back into the chute and sealed themselves in. Both sat with their ears pressed against the door. Octorl’s repulsors were no longer audible, instead the voices of the Callos detectives echoed past the chute:
“What is an assistant doing here?” a raspy voice asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe it is for the coroner. Can’t figure out why the coroner is taking their sweet time, we already are on CLERGY 5. Really!” a higher-pitched voice rang.
“Greetings.” Octorl introduced himself.
“Who is your owner?” the raspy voice asked.
“I cannot state.” Octorl answered.
Garth looked at Miles in the chute with concern on his face;
“I forgot that he doesn’t have a function for security. He will answer private questions; he doesn’t have a moderator tool for memory.” Garth whispered.
The raspy voiced detective asked again: “What is your objective?”
“My command was to do all that I could to locate Doctor Lalia Tarrus.” Octorl answered.
“Ah, I see. Drak, the assistant was probably deployed by Alvar.” The high-pitched voice provided an explanation.
“Alvar is a lazy bum. He isn’t a big shot simply because he saved the Doctor from a maniac.” The detective named Drak dismissed the robot:
“Get out of here. This is our investigation. Tarrus isn’t here; let us clean-up the mess she made.”
“It would be just our luck to be assigned this case; especially since I planned to use some of my vacation time on Aurrus.” The other detective said sadly.
“Really? You and the family were requesting shore leave to Aurrus? Great place really.” Drak replied.
The two then idly chatted about the intricacies of marriage and the power a scenic vacation could have on the “Mrs.” Miles and Garth waited in the chute for a few more minutes, Miles loudly crunching on his fingernails.
“Stop that.” Garth asked, swatting at Miles’ hands.
“I don’t need you to…” Miles replied but was interrupted by Octorl’s repulsors humming outside of the chute’s door.
Garth pried open the door and peeked out in the direction of the detectives who were now loudly talking about Larragut Paras’ latest performance on CLERGY 1. He slipped his leg through the opening and dropped on to the floor, he addressed Octorl:
“Did you find Doctor Lalia Tarrus?” he asked.
Octorl’s face changed from white to yellow: “No. Doctor Lalia Tarrus has escaped from the psychiatric ward on CLERGY 5.”
Garth turned to face Miles who pantomimed to ask further questions:
“Octorl, where is the Doctor?” he asked.
“Based off of latest reports from the crime scene; Doctor Tarrus is on the run from Convoy officials and will be brought to justice. A reward is available for her capture.” Octorl answered.
“Great!” Miles sarcastically added.
Garth turned to face Miles:
“I’m kind of out of ideas. Do you have a plan?” he asked in a desperate tone.
“I don’t know. Ask the robot.” Miles suggested.
Garth redirected his eyes to Octorl; he furrowed his brow and held his finger to his temple. The robot was in perfect working condition, it could work nicely; it could go places Miles couldn’t. Of course, Garth wasn’t wanted for treason or conspiracy or anything, but Octorl could prove to be valuable.
“It would require a little reworking.” Garth thought out-loud. The robot didn’t have a privacy setting and could endanger both Miles and himself. But Garth did know a pretty clever Callos mechanic from his hanger, the mechanic wouldn’t even think of asking any questions. Octorl would come with them, Garth just needed to not let any information slip before the privacy setting was activated.
“Octorl, follow us.” Garth ordered.
“Yes. Understood.” The robot faithfully obeyed, its thrusters lifted it into the chute, providing plenty of light for Miles and Garth.