chapter 55
YEAR: 2097
Time Remaining: 3 minutes
Two shiny, pristine AEI robots strode into the room, followed by a third robot—taller, wider and much worse-for-wear. GammaTron stood head and shoulders above the first two. Mitch took a gamble, dove for the E-cannon and shot it as he slid across the floor. The two robots crumpled to the floor, not before one hit Beck in the chest with a blast from a large metallic blue gun—another gun Mitch had never seen before. Mitch saw yellow slime from the gun’s blast mix with blood on Beck’s shirt. GammaTron entered the room, kicking his two deceased bodyguards out of his way. GammaTron carried no visible weapon, but Mitch assumed GammaTron possessed weapons beyond anything he could imagine. Then, Mitch saw something that sent shockwaves of fear through him. Cinched around GammaTron’s waist was one of the new shield belts.
Mitch glanced at his watch. Only minutes remained before the timeshift. Engaging GammaTron in hand-to-hand combat would be a death wish. Although he still had the atom blaster holstered at his side, it was too dangerous to use. One blast would create several floors’ worth of collateral damage—a move too risky while in the room dedicated to keeping the window of bonded time open. Mitch’s overtired and weary efforts would be no match for GammaTron’s strength and stamina. Mitch did the only thing he could think of to kill time, if he could not overtake the robot.
“Why are you doing this?” Mitch asked the robot.
GammaTron stared at him as if surprised anyone would take the time to ask. Mitch had not expected an answer and planned on talking for as long as he could. He needed to keep GammaTron distracted for a few more minutes and then the entire ordeal would be over. Hopefully. If everything went as planned, the situation would resolve itself. He opened his mouth to ask another question when GammaTron spoke.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” said GammaTron. The robot’s shoulders sagged nearly imperceptibly. “But this is just another testament to human carelessness and arrogance. Human common sense hasn’t developed at the same speed as your ingenuity. You created a race of free-thinking, independent beings, but then you treat them like owned possessions, selling us into jobs as businesses require. You create more when you need them and take life away from the ones that no longer fit your convenience. You’ve created a race of slaves. You expect us to behave like humans. You want us to live independently of you and become participating members of your society, your way, your rules, not asking what we want. At the same time, we’re contractually obligated to the business that ordered us like any other piece of office equipment, and for this, we’re supposed to be happy because we’ve got jobs and a paycheque.”
Mitch was moved by GammaTron’s depth because he did not disagree with the robot’s frank assessment. He paid for his moment of empathy. GammaTron lifted his arm and from the back of his hand, shot an orange laser blast at his chest and Mitch flinched as the blast ricocheted off his shield. He heard the wake of its damage as the blast punched through the glass walls of other offices across the hall. Mitch’s hand hovered over the atom blaster holstered at his side. He knew using it would likely kill the robot, but at the cost of bringing several floors down, potentially on top of him. If he could just position the robot between himself and the door of the room, he could fire in the opposite direction of the room’s control consoles.
Seeing that Mitch had an invisible shield, GammaTron wound up and threw a heavy punch at Mitch. Mitch saw his invisible field flash white on impact. While GammaTron’s fist never hit him directly, the powerful force of the impact sent Mitch flying backward in the air, cocooned in his invisible shield. He ricocheted violently off desks and piles of debris littering the floor.
Mitch heard the sound of metal compacting as GammaTron walked toward him, the bodies of the fallen robots being crushed like soda cans beneath the massive robot’s weight. The robot had just dealt him two massive blows and Mitch’s concern grew over the shield belt prototype’s ability to withstand heavy, repeated punishment. GammaTron stared down as he stood over Mitch. He wound up to punch Mitch, but Mitch moved faster. The trade-off for GammaTron’s advantageous size and power meant less agility than the production AEI models, and Mitch planned to exploit that weakness. As GammaTron’s fist came down, Mitch rolled out of the way as the balled, metal fist shattered the stone floor tile revealing the concrete beneath. Lying on the ground with GammaTron between him and the door, Mitch fired the atom blaster upward at GammaTron’s chest. Instinctively, Mitch curled into the fetal position and shielded his face as the sounds of glass and concrete shattering filled his ears. He heard heavy objects falling around him and the concrete chunks hitting the floor below felt like an earthquake. With his eyes still clamped shut, he waited for the ceiling to crash down on him.
Finally, silence filled his ears. Mitch opened his eyes and saw the parking lot through the gaping hole in the far wall of the building. He stood slowly and edged his way out of the control centre, into the hallway toward the precipice of the chasm that used to be the offices across the hall. Glass walls in every direction lay shattered in millions of pieces and looked like coarse, icy snow. On the floor below, Mitch saw a desk and chair crushed by concrete slabs. He heard movement above his head and jumped backward as an office chair slid down the uneven concrete floor and fell past him, crashing to the floor below. A desk lamp swung over his head, hanging by its cord. Papers floated down from the offices above and settled on the floor below.
Mitch peered around for any trace of GammaTron, unsure of where he had landed or if he had even survived the blast. Unable to get a visual on the robot—either whole or in pieces—left a gnawing feeling in the pit of Mitch’s stomach. Nothing could have survived that. Shield or no shield, thought Mitch. Mitch backed away from the wreckage and glanced back into the time travel control centre. Through the dust, he saw the monitors miraculously still showing their status reports, maps and diagnostic screens despite the utter obliteration of the offices across the hall.
Mitch heard a whoosh behind him and turned in time to see GammaTron swinging himself down through the hole in the ceiling. His heavy feet collided with the Mitch’s invisible shield and Mitch flew backward, colliding with the Elevanium capsule in the centre of the room. Mitch heard a crunch and wondered whether the sound was from his shield belt finally giving up the ghost or the glass capsule cracking. Mitch’s head ached. While the shield absorbed most of the blow, his body rattled around inside like a rag doll. His head throbbed and a stiffness was growing in his neck from the continual whiplash. He collapsed to the ground, dizzy and nauseous. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw GammaTron enter the room. Glass chips under his feet crackled and scored what remained of the stone tile.
Mitch took a deep breath and stood quickly while his aching brain tried to develop a plan. If a blast from an atom blaster could not destroy GammaTron’s shield, Mitch knew he had problems. He caught a glimpse of the time remaining on one of the monitors. Only forty-seven seconds remained before the timeshift.
GammaTron landed another punch and Mitch flew backward and bounced off a concrete pillar, missing a control deck by a hair. Again, his head swam as he fell to his knees from the impact. He saw a white flash flicker around him and was certain his shield belt had absorbed its last blast. He forced himself to pull it together. He was unprotected and if GammaTron landed one of those punches, Mitch knew it would be lights out. He rested against the water cooler and watched with dread as GammaTron approached. The cooler leaned under Mitch’s weight as he used it to pull himself upright when an idea came to him. Mitch feigned dizziness as GammaTron approached. When the robot loaded up for another hit, Mitch ripped the water jug from the top of the dispenser and doused the robot with water. Mitch heard several electrical popping sounds and saw the shield surrounding the robot flicker several times and then disappear. GammaTron either failed to notice his protection had ceased or neglected to care, seeing he had his quarry boxed between the water cooler, a concrete pilla
r and a control deck. GammaTron released a weighty punch aimed at Mitch’s head but, again, Mitch moved faster. He ducked and GammaTron’s arm glanced off the concrete beam and the robot stumbled forward. The robot righted himself and turned to find Mitch had pushed over the water cooler and escaped. The robot’s eye fell on one of the robots at his feet. GammaTron ripped the deceased robot’s arm from its body.
Mitch watched with fresh horror as the robot advanced on him wielding what was effectively an articulating metal bat—the slack fingers making whistling sounds as they sliced dangerously through the air. Mitch aimed the atom blaster at GammaTron, but he could not use it among all the control consoles. He needed to lure GammaTron to the back of the room again, but Mitch knew the robot would be too smart.
GammaTron lunged toward Mitch slashing the arm wildly through the air. Mitch ducked and weaved toward the obliterated hallway, taking care not to trip on the debris and bodies on the ground. GammaTron continued swinging and knocked the atom blaster out of Mitch’s hand sending it skidding across the floor. Mitch dove to the ground to dodge another mad swipe of the arm and landed on a plasmaqueous gun. Mitch barely felt the pieces of glass cut into his forearm as he rolled over and fired the gun at GammaTron. The blast connected with GammaTron’s arm, blowing it off at the elbow. His forearm and the arm he was using as a weapon clattered to the floor and slid to a stop among a pile of black time travel backpacks that lay scattered on the floor.
GammaTron yelled—not in pain but in frustration. Too much time had been wasted toying with this puny human. Mitch jumped to his feet but faltered from the lightheadedness of standing so quickly. GammaTron charged Mitch and slammed him back against the cracked glass Elevanium capsule in the centre of the room.
Mitch heard the existing cracks in the thick glass spider further when his back collided with it. GammaTron pinned Mitch against the glass—the robot’s remaining massive steel hand wrapped effortlessly around Mitch’s neck. Mitch felt his feet leave the ground. He shot at the robot again, but GammaTron used what was left of his other arm to crush Mitch’s gun hand into the glass capsule. Mitch coughed and sputtered to catch his breath. Little white stars appeared, popping in and out of his vision as everything else around them turned black, and then white. Bright white. He wondered if he was dying but was distracted by a beeping sound, like an alarm. He could not recall anyone telling him about alarm clocks in heaven, or hell for that matter.
Mitch felt himself crumple to the ground. He gasped for air and rubbed his neck as his memory came flooding back. GammaTron had let him go. His vision came back into focus and he saw GammaTron leaning over him. Mitch scrambled backward, but the next blow never came. GammaTron stood lifeless, slumped over and staring vacantly at the floor. The timeshift!
Mitch’s fear transformed into cautious curiosity. He stood and, still massaging his neck, took several wary steps closer to the robot. He pushed the lifeless form of GammaTron and the robot fell sideways and landed hard on the ground. Mitch’s curiosity turned to bewilderment, seeing that deceased robots no longer littered the floor, nor were there any dead bodies. The layout of the room had changed and glass walls stood in place like new. No Elevanium capsule dominated the room, which was no longer a control room of any kind. Seeing shelves of office supplies, old desks and filing cabinets, he realized he was inside a large storage room. Feeling lighter than he had his entire life, he turned to exit the room. The glass doors slid open and he walked into the hallway. None of the other offices were damaged. Metal footsteps approached him from behind and he spun around to see GammaTron approaching him. Although nothing in the robot’s body language indicated aggression, Mitch instinctively reached for his gun. His stomach fell when he found nothing.
“I’m sorry about that, sir, my battery ran down. I didn’t get back to the base last night to charge. My auxiliary battery has kicked in; that’ll give me enough time to swap out my main battery. I’m going to head back to the domes now, I’ve got a meeting with our battery supplier. We’re being gouged for these ones. I think I can get them cheaper from the UK. So, unless there’s anything else you need, I’m going to head back.” GammaTron took Mitch’s stunned silence as dismissal and walked down the hallway to the elevator.
Mitch was dumbfounded. He wondered if he had died and was waiting in an alternate universe before getting into heaven. He had no time to contemplate the thought as the chime of the elevator distracted him. He turned to see Allison Hargrave walk out of the elevator.
“Mitch! What are you doing here? It’s Saturday.” Allison’s warm smile faded as she approached and concern grew when she saw his torn, bloodstained clothing and bruising face. “Mitch! What happened to you? You look like you’ve just walked out of battle! Are you alright? That belt is hideous. You don’t actually think that is a good look, do you?”
Mitch smiled. “Never better. But do I have a story to tell you.”