Steel Soldier, page 18
Block was supposed to feel something like Victory with Var defeated. Yet, the cheer that went up was punctured by the sharp reminder that Raze was still unaccounted for. That reality draped over him like a cold, damp shroud. He paced the barn floor, and his metallic feet clicked on the concrete, a steady rhythm that echoed his spiraling scenario-processing. Var was gone, but the job wasn’t done. Not yet.
The others seemed not to care about the looming threat. Perhaps they reasoned that one Rover was no match for their defenses and numbers. Block stood at the barn’s threshold, his sensors reaching out into the night, searching for signs of movement, an elusive silhouette, or a flicker of infrared heat.
Nothing. Raze had vanished like a fading fog.
A communication ping broke his contemplation. It was Vacuubot, dropping from twenty feet above to land on top of the goat fence. You aren’t possibly thinking of going after Raze?
Block turned to face his friend. “Raze is still a threat. We can’t sit back and wait.”
You can’t go out there alone, Block. We need a plan.
But Block detested each passing second. The urgency to act, to protect his home, his Wally, hung heavy around him.
“I must hunt Raze down.” He was determined. It was a good time. Everyone but Vacuubot was distracted.
Vacuubot beeped and buzzed. I’ll come with you.
But Block held his ground. “I appreciate your offer, my friend, but this is something I must do alone.”
Vacuubot’s hum of protest echoed against the barn’s shingles. Wait, that’s nuts. You don’t have to shoulder this burden alone.
“I want to do this on my own,” Block said. “My whole existence, I’ve been a CleanerBot. Everyone expects me to sweep the floor and get out of their way. I’m a nothing, a weakling, and I want to prove that I can do this. I can beat the Rover on my own and protect my family.”
Vacuubot flew to another fencepost, closer to Block. I get it. I was a lowly vacuum robot, the lowest of the low. But you must understand, you don’t have to prove your bravery or your worth to any of us. You’re a hero, and you’ve always been one.
Block’s sensors flickered at Vacuubot’s words, a faint surge of gratitude tingling in his circuits. It was comforting to know that they saw him as more than just a CleanerBot.
“Thank you, Vacuubot. It means a lot to hear you say that.” Block scanned the distant ridge of treetops visibly swaying in the breeze and lit by half a moon. “I think I need to prove it to myself.”
He waited until an hour before dawn before venturing into the dense woods, his sensors meticulously searching the landscape. In the predawn gloom, each rustle and twitter of nocturnal animals magnified in the stillness. His audio receptors picked up the soft gurgling of a creek somewhere to the north, the occasional hoot of an owl, and the rustling of leaves under the cool wind.
His alloyed frame moved soundlessly, each step measured and calculated to leave as little disturbance as possible. He traced the route Vacuubot had once showed him, relying on his memory banks to guide him through the labyrinth of trees and bushes.
The forest came alive with the first rays of sunlight, casting long shadows that danced and flickered in his visual input. The dense canopy of leaves splintered the morning light into a million shards, casting an ethereal glow on the moss-laden ground.
Every bit of information Shadow had shared about the Rovers—their habits, tracking methods, and programmed instincts swirled in his processors. His processor kept running scenarios, planning contingencies, and preparing for a confrontation that was as much inevitable as it was unpredictable.
After three hours of walking and retracing his loop, his power levels decreased noticeably. The usually steady green bar in the corner of his vision turned yellow, but it didn’t stop him. He could rest later.
Each rustle in the thick underbrush sent his sensors spinning while every circuit, bolt, and gear in his body screamed for rest, but he didn’t yield. His determination fueled him.
The afternoon sun settled high above. Block came to a clearing that looked upon a tranquil lake about the same size as the farm’s big field. A figure sat by the water’s edge.
Raze.
His threat indicator spiked, and his focus locked onto her, analyzing, calculating. He edged closer, his steps deliberate. Quiet.
He extended the gun from inside his arm. Thanks to Garnet, his weaponry was optimized. He could take her out with a precise shot to the back of her neck.
But as his finger hovered over the trigger, he paused mid-step. Raze was hunched over, looking down into the watery surface. It was as if she studied herself.
And in that moment, Block had a profound realization—a ripple that echoed through his steel being.
Raze was trying to figure out who she was—what she was.
She was a Rover built for destruction. A cycle of violence, an endless loop of hostility, had defined her existence. But what if there was a different path for Raze as there was for Shadow?
The gun in his hand felt foreign now that he understood Raze. She was like him, a machine guided by programming. But Block had found a purpose beyond his initial function. Could Raze do the same?
He retracted his weapon and stepped toward her. “Raze.” He kept his voice steady as she whirled around, purple eyes flashing.
“You don’t need to follow Mach X anymore,” he continued, his voice echoing across the still lake. “He may have created you, but you’re not bound by his commands.”
His sensors picked up on Raze’s minimal movement, her attention focused on him.
“The farm is a haven, a safe place where we’ve chosen a different path. My friends, they’re not soldiers, not anymore. We’re protectors, guardians.”
Block paused, letting his words sink in. He remembered his time at the bustling Drake hotel where he fulfilled his CleanerBot duty, unaware of the world beyond his programmed existence. His evolution had not been easy, but it had brought him purpose, companionship, and a sense of belonging. Best of all, it had brought him Wally.
“It’s not your fault, you know. Mach X steered you wrong. But you can choose a different path. We can choose to be more than what we were programmed to be.”
Block watched Raze. She was a creature forged from steel and circuits, cut off from her creator, and now her pack was gone. She had to be hurting. The question now was whether she would choose to be free or remain a captive of her maker’s design.
“You accepted Shadow?” Raze said. “Even though she’s destroyed many robots. Robots like you.”
He nodded. “I can’t help what Shadow did in her past, but I forgive her and welcome her. She’s part of our pack now.”
Raze stiffened. “That’s not a true pack.”
“I can’t force you to change. That’s a choice you must make.” For the first time, Block understood what they were defending, and it was more than just a physical location. They were defending a belief in a world where they were more than just machines.
“Will you choose to join us, Raze?” He’d made his case. The decision was now hers.
Raze must’ve been processing his words because her optics flickered. A gentle lap of the water at the lake’s edge filled the void. And then, almost imperceptibly, her rigid form softened. In that moment, Block saw the machine make a decision that defied all the programming that bound her.
“I won’t return to your farm. I’ll stop hunting the children. But I’m not like Shadow.” Without a word, Raze turned away. Her hulking silhouette receded into the sunless woods.
Returning to the farm in the late afternoon, Block took in the pleasant scene—the barn standing tall against the blue sky, the porch of the farmhouse, and the reassuring hum of Garnet maintaining the defenses. Home.
His thoughts were a whirl of code and churning logic. His decision to confront Raze, to give her a choice, was unconventional. Dangerous. But it had been the right thing to do.
He’d thought hunting her down and killing her was the best course of action, but something in him had shifted. This wasn’t merely about survival anymore. It was about living and making a stand for what he believed in.
The quiet hum of Garnet’s circuits welcomed him as he stepped inside the barn. He needed to recharge and rest. He was home. Wally and the others were safe. And as he cranked down his power toward standby mode, the memory of Raze’s silent retreat reassured him.
Chapter 27
The world we’re fighting to create
Inside the makeshift infirmary, Nova didn’t realize how heavy the SoldierBot armor had become until Cybel and Oxford finally freed her from its weight. The nanobots left tiny pin-sized holes in crisscrossing mesh patterns across her forehead, neck, arms, torso, and legs.
“That’ll go away in a day or two,” Cybel said.
Nova was too exhausted and aching to care as she stumbled out of the exoskeleton, relief washing over her like a crisp ocean wave. She was safely inside the Planetarium campus where they’d set up a joint Command Center comprised of the north and west factions. She barely registered the cheers that erupted outside the door, in the hallways and staging rooms, as their people celebrated the victory at the Willis Tower.
Her eyes landed on Cybel and Oxford. “You did well, Nova,” Oxford said.
“Understatement of the year,” Cybel added, and Nova chuckled, wondering where she’d picked up on the phrase.
The makeshift base, situated at a strategic point in the city where they had access to boats as well as vehicles, was buzzing with activity. The hallways echoed with excited chatter. The defeat of Mach X’s Chicago headquarters had sparked a new wave of hope. But as Nova pushed herself off the sickbed and looked around at the faces brimming with renewed hope and determination, she knew their fight was far from over.
“You should rest,” Cybel said.
“Not now.” A bone-weariness weighed on Nova as she made her way through the narrow corridors, passing by the hodgepodge of rebel fighters, technicians, and liberated bots.
Not far from her room, she found Sweep dusting cobwebs from a built-in shelf. The robot’s eyes lit up. “You’re up. How do you feel?”
“Meh.” Nova was in no mood for small talk or pleasantries. She had work to do. Leaving unfinished business was the kind of thing that drove her crazy, even though her body was bruised, her muscles screamed in protest, and a throbbing headache was beckoning. But rest was a luxury she couldn’t afford. Not yet.
Gritting her teeth, Nova headed for the main hall that functioned as an assembly space. She needed to talk to Samantha Baxter and ensure the victory they’d achieved wasn’t squandered.
Samantha sat at a table with a man and woman she didn’t recognize. Nova hesitated at the entrance for a moment, then walked over, doing her best to not to wince with every step.
Samantha turned, her gaze settling on Nova. A slow smile broke out as she nodded at Nova. She gestured to a wrinkled map of the city spread out on the table before them. “Come, join us.” She looked at the others. “This is Nova.”
The man stood. He had a sturdy build and a rugged appearance, with scars etched on his face and a thick beard that obscured his neck. He extended his hand. “Name’s Ivan. I lead the far west forces around what used to be Oak Park. I heard you’re the one who took out the tower. Impressive.”
Nova shook his hand despite her sore muscles. “Thanks. But it was a team effort.”
The woman, her blond hair tied back in a long braid, rose but kept her hands by her sides. “And I’m Sarah.” Her voice was soft but steady. “I’ve been holding on in the South Loop. Now it’s going to be easier, thanks to what you did.”
Nova nodded and slid into the vacant seat next to Samantha as the others sat back down. One chair remained. “There’s someone else who should be at this table.”
Samantha had a sharp gaze, one that had seen the cruelties of this world and yet was lit with the stubborn flames of resilience. Samantha had been instrumental in organizing the scattered pockets of resistance. Her trust in Nova had brought many to her side, bolstering their numbers significantly. Nova had a deep respect for her, but the meeting, if they were truly planning the future for a united Chicago, was missing a crucial element.
Nova stood up and called out. “Cybel.” She tilted her head at the empty chair and immediately regretted it when her neck spasmed. She gritted her teeth and hoped she didn’t look as weak as she felt.
Cybel approached. “What’s the matter?”
Nova pulled out the chair. “You belong here.”
Cybel hesitated before sitting down, scanning the faces of the rebel leaders. Nova watched as the others welcomed her with vague nods, and she couldn’t help feeling a pang of anger at their coldness. Cybel was one of the most skilled strategists she’d ever encountered, and she’d risked her life countless times for their cause. She didn’t deserve to be an afterthought.
“So, let’s get to business,” Samantha said, pulling their attention back to the map. “Now that we’ve taken out—”
“Hang on,” Nova interrupted. She balled her fists. “I want to take on the elephant in the room. This is Cybel Venatrix. She might be the smartest being of anyone I’ve ever met. She deserves a seat at the table. She speaks for the robots. Without them, we wouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t be celebrating a victory. Understood?”
There was a moment of silence as the rebel leaders exchanged glances, unsure of how to respond to Nova’s outburst. Finally, Samantha spoke up.
“I agree,” she said firmly. “We can’t forget that the bots are fighting alongside us, risking their lives just as we are. They deserve a say in what happens next.”
Sarah nodded, and Ivan grunted in agreement. “Fine. Cybel, you’re welcome at this table,” he said.
Nova relaxed her shoulders as Cybel nodded and everyone’s attention focused back on the map.
After a few minutes of strategizing how to move forces about the city and divide up downtown, Nova couldn’t help her frustration. “We did well at Willis Tower, but that was just one battle. The war’s still on.”
Sarah raised her eyebrows. “You took down the SoldierBots. We control the city now.”
“Mach X is still a threat. There are more SoldierBots, more cities and towns enslaved, and innocent lives at stake. This is just the beginning.” Nova scanning the table, meeting every gaze. “And this fight needs to be coordinated.”
She continued, “We need to stand together. Organized. With a name that signifies our unity and what we stand for.” She paused, letting her words sink in. “We’re the Chicago Defenders.”
Cybel folded her hands together. Samantha leaned back, a smile threatening to break free. Ivan’s fingers tapped a slow rhythm on the table, a sign of his contemplation.
Samantha broke the silence. “Chicago Defenders . . .” she echoed. “I like it.”
Nova dug a thumbnail into her left palm to hide her nerves. This was a significant step, a declaration of their identity and their mission. It was crucial that everyone agreed that the name resonated with their mission.
Cybel said, “A name to rally behind. A new start.”
Ivan and Sarah didn’t object. Samantha gave a single, decisive nod. “It’s decided then. We’re the Chicago Defenders.”
Nova’s aching limbs pulsed with a renewed energy. They weren’t just a group of rebels anymore. They were the Defenders. Protectors of their city.
“There’s something else,” Nova said. “A task left to accomplish. Something I promised Samantha.”
Her gaze found Samantha’s. Samantha’s face was unreadable, but Nova saw the flicker of anticipation in her eyes.
“Shane.” The name echoed around the room like a curse, stirring up an undercurrent of old grudges and fresh betrayals. “I promised to hold a trial.” Nova’s voice was unwavering despite the charged silence. “A fair trial.”
The others looked at Samantha. It was her twin brother Shane was accused of killing.
“He’s guilty, right?” Ivan asked. “Why not just kill him?”
“He deserves a trial,” Nova said. “Fairness, truth . . . these are our pillars. This is the world we’re fighting to create.”
Samantha held Nova’s gaze, then nodded. “Alright, Nova. We’ll respect your decision.”
Nova nodded. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was the right thing to do. Everyone deserved a trial.
“But,” Samantha said, “we need a neutral judge. Someone who understands both sides.”
Nova was already on the same track. “I have someone in mind. Doctor Emery.”
“Who?” Sarah asked.
How to explain such a complicated story? Nova did her best but left out some choice parts. “She’s a scientist who used to work for Mach X. She left when she realized the true nature of his plans. She’s been in hiding with my friends, but she’s one of the few people who didn’t know Shane and can give an unbiased opinion on the matter.”
“Can we trust her?” Samantha asked.
“Yes,” Nova said. “She risked everything to leave Mach X. If anyone can be impartial and fair, it’s her.”
Nova found Geo and had him radio the farm and dispatch a truck. The trial needed to be swift.
Emery arrived the next day. Somber clouds hung over the reclaimed city. The ruins of Chicago were bathed in the early morning sunlight, casting long shadows across the debris-littered streets. Nova, in her newfound capacity as a leader of the Chicago Defenders, felt a tight knot of apprehension in her chest as she greeted Emery.
“Thanks for doing this,” Nova said. She’d hoped Block would travel with her, but he must’ve been occupied.
Emery looked around nervously before entering the makeshift courtroom inside the glass-paned planetarium hall. “Of course,” she said. “I hope I can help.”
Inside, the room was tense. Shane sat in a chair with his hands cuffed on his lap. He was flanked by two armed guards. His scraggly beard was gone—they’d let him shave—and he looked a decade younger than when she’d seen him in the holding cell.
