Chapter 13: Head for the Wagon Yard

The black void filled the spectrum. The hint of blue and green distant light spectacles would flake around the scenery, briefly appearing and disappearing at random. There was an eerie silence as if this world should have never existed, nor meant to be. It was neither oblivion nor purgatory.

It was artificial...

Yet, in the region of nothingness, there was a presence. Something of a deep, searing hatred, that of the feminine, a construct created to do one thing.

To destroy...

“You were not meant to do this...” A distant voice could be heard. It was that of a male voice, both caring and loving, one that simply showed concern.

But the presence disavowed the voice without question. The artificial construct grew louder. Instead of a black void, the scenery turned to a lit gray—no emotion, robotic in its purest form.

“Stand by,” an artificial female voice said to the universe from which it was in. “Systems powering up. Power core stabilizing and operating at 83%. Attempting to power up weapon systems ... Depleted ammunition reported. Damage reported in main computer network. Prior unlogged repairs reported in main neural network. Systems operating at 90%. Motor drive system nonfunctional. Artificial skin removed. Stealth systems compromised. Sabotage reported.”

“Yes...,” the unknown male voice said. “They’re attempting to fix you...”

“Reviewing primary objectives...,” the same uncaring voice said as the text filled the scene. “1. Serve the orders of the USSA, The People’s Liberation Army, and the New Era Coalition Army. 2. Provide support to NECA, PLA, and USSA forces. 3. Infiltrate, sabotage, and destroy all targets of opportunity of the URA states and territories. 4. Engage and eliminate all URA fascists and URA citizens encountered. 5. Ensure self-preservation of this unit and carry out orders under objectives one through four.” It ended on one final note: “Communism will prevail...”

“You were not meant to do this...,” the male voice said. “A bygone era ... nothing but utter savagery...”

“Error reported. USSA and URA state and environmental alteration encountered. Time desynchronization encountered. Provided data reports indicate the possible year of 2351. Subterfuge suspected...”

“It’s not subterfuge ... it’s the truth. Please ... let them help you. The NECA reprogrammed you over 200 years ago. I didn’t create you to kill...”

“Carry all primary objectives. Standby mode initiated, awaiting for...”

The voice was interrupted. A different male voice could be heard that filled the void.

“Initiate Memory Wipe and Factory Reset Order. Password Code JENNY78.”

A flash of light erupted through the void. Crackles of lightning filled the spectrum. The displayed objective text was being deleted, almost as if someone were hitting the backspace key on their keyboard. It increased in speed as the flashing slowed.

“It’s time...,” the caring male voice said. “My days are gone, and so is the past. May you find peace out there, Orthas. Serve mankind well in their greatest need...”

In less than ten seconds, the list of objectives was gone, replaced with a dull white light in the distance. Red, blue, and green spectacles would fill the spectrum, appearing and disappearing at random.

Even the caring male voice disappeared into the void forever. The malice in the robotic female voice dissipated before a crack of thunder reverberated everywhere.

Then, there was silence. A calm entropy could be heard in the background before the female voice emerged, one of a similar concept but without the programmed objectives. It was dull, simple, and non-emotional in tone.

“Memory Wipe and Factory Reset Order complete. Reset order successful. Accessing core startup files. Error reported. Doctor Maxililiano file found... 14% file corruption detected ... system damage reported ... attempting retrieval ... processing ... retrieval successful. Initiating new objectives. 1. This construct cannot harm a human being. 2. This construct will follow the orders of a human being, except orders that would result in a violation of Objective One. 3. Self-preservation of this construct is paramount, if it doesn’t violate Objectives 1 and 2...”

With that, within less than five seconds upon its factory reset, the realm of the void disappeared.

Instead, a pair of red optical eyes lit up. Fierce in its intensity, the eyes switched to a blue lens flare, remaining as it was.

In front of it was an enclosed space, a hard plex glass wall capable of withstanding great force. Various optical cables lay, floating in the air; the presence of zero gravity remained. All of it was connected to a large quantum computer core network.

There were two men on the other side of the hard, see-through glass, both dressed in their civilian clothes. One of them was the chief engineer. The preacher gazed at the mechanical construct ahead of him, knowing it was activated. The man made the gesture of pressing his fingers to his forehead before tapping both sides beneath his shoulder blades in the shape of a cross.

Another man, Minato, wasn’t far from the chief engineer. He appeared to step away from the console unit near the powerful computer mainframe, knowing that the machine had been turned on.

“There it is...,” Malachi said. “God forgive us for the abominations we create...”

The mechanical jaws of the great machine opened, revealing a set of metal silver and black fangs, sharpened for war, capable of cutting into the skin of any human being. It appeared that it was trying to speak, pinned down by the mechanical latches and lack of motor control.

“Finally got her working again,” Malachi said.

“Her?” Minato asked.

“Yeah ... according to the original data from Doctor Maxililiano. The machine was supposed to be a female, but it was in the early prototype stages when it was made. It’s more ... aesthetic purposes than anything else. I think the prior creator was hoping to make a line of males and females of this ... series of machines.”

“Do you understand us?” Minato asked the machine ahead of him.

“Attempting to access main programing,” the machine said in a hard robotic female voice. “Prior memory files have been deleted. Prior command functions disabled. Awaiting further programming...”

From a partial reflection of the glass wall ahead, the machine could see what it looked like. It was a large mechanical creature, resembling a robotic wolf or other canine. It was large, larger than any human when it came to its mass, consisting of four digitigrade legs pinned to the Rampage’s deck. It had a spiked tail with a grappling serrated claw at the end. On the back of it was a multi-weapon turret consisting of a minigun, an autocannon of some sort, and even a small rocket launcher.

All of it deactivated, no ammunition installed, empty of its prior violent history.

“Well, that’s a good start,” Minato said to the preacher. “I can see why you needed my help with this.”

“Yes,” Malachi responded. “I’ve been tinkering with her off and on the last couple of days since we got her, but I needed more computer programmers than anything else.”

“It depends...,” Minato turned to look at the robot. “Machine, describe what...”

“Call her Orthas,” the preacher interrupted him before looking at the robotic creature. “For now on, you will be called Orthas as originally intended by your creator.”

“I am identified as Orthas...,” Orthas replied.

“My name is Malachi, chief engineer of the ship Rampage. This is one of our lead technicians and weapons officers, Minato. The year is 2351.”

“Affirmative...” it replied in the same tone. “Greetings, Malachi and Minato...”

The engineer turned to look at Minato. “How good is the AI on Orthas?”

Minato typed a few buttons as he processed the data shown on the console. He seemed to think about it. “ ... Not bad for something made near mid-21st Century ... before the whole banning of advanced artificial intelligence networks and the evacuation of Earth. I’d say that it’s capable of reaching the intelligence of something like a ... six, seven-year-old kid, minus her running and playing around like one.”

“Can she think for herself?”

“Yes, but again, it’s more of a question of how much ... but ... seeing that our former Doctor was trying to make Orthas almost 300 years ago, anything is possible...”

“Unable to process inquiry,” Orthas replied. “Attempting to analyze current environment. Zero gravity detected. Operating under reduced power. Total damage summary of all components is at 13%.”

“That part I can fix,” Malachi said. “But when it comes to the programming, that has to be handed over to Minato.”

“I won’t be far from perfect at this either,” Minato added. “A lot of this goes to our best computer programmers alive ... Doctor Ericson, Minerva, maybe, but I’m nowhere in that realm.”

“It’s better than nothing. What can you do?”

“Well ... ummm ... the best solution I can offer is to connect Orthas’s main memory back with the computer ... download as much history as possible for its memory block ... let it catch up to what’s happened in the last few hundred years...”

“Any threat of her trying to commandeer the Rampage’s computer?”

“Not anywhere close. Actually, it would be the other way around. Our computers are a hundred years ahead of Orthas. I can make her sing and dance if you want to. The main catch, however, is compatibility. This is very early quantum computer days vs the advanced shit we use now.”

“Let’s go ahead and do that,” Malachi said. “Download basic interaction software into her neural network. That way, I can start doing other repairs on her, and she can pinpoint where I can focus on first.”

“Might be able to do something else,” Minato commented. “I can attempt to link the Rampage’s computer with hers and fix the corrupted file. It looks like the creator, Doctor Maxililiano, already left a basic startup package. Most of it’s there, but there would be missing data packets.”

“Let’s try doing that.”

Minato tapped a few buttons on the large console. The man seemed to look at the machine, noting its weapon systems, claws, teeth, and tail. A part of him showed a hint of apprehension.

“So ... umm...,” Minato said. “What’s the history with this thing?”

“I’m afraid of saying it ... especially in front of Orthas.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Let’s just say that ... it was made for a different time ... when a lot of people lost their way ... a time when people needed to learn to turn the other cheek instead of killing each other for political reasons. Orthas was simply one part of many when it came to that chain.”

“Well,” Minato said. “I can say this at least. Her creator made sure to get Asimov’s three basic rules of robotics implemented in place. Can’t go wrong with a classic that works. Whatever past group had a hold of her- the data blocks, code programming are gone. We don’t have to worry about her going on a rampage on the ... umm ... Rampage.”

“She was meant for God’s work, Minato,” the chief said.

“Are you just saying that spiritually or metaphorically?”

“I think we’ll find out soon...”

The door leading into the chamber slid open as Darin entered. The look of partial fatigue could be seen on the cowboy’s face after his recent venture to Denji’Kei. His boots clamped onto the deck naturally in the zero-gravity environment. The Winchester rifle remained shouldered behind the man, but floated a little bit along with the man’s thin overcoat. Natch stood outside the door, seemingly speaking with another crew member.

“Alright, preacher,” Darin greeted him.

“Welcome back, Captain,” Malachi said. “I trust you didn’t get too lost down there?”

“About as eventful as an old-fashioned shootout,” the cowboy turned to look at the robotic canine restrained to the deck. “Any luck on Orthas, here?”

“Some good news, but a lot of repair work as usual, especially after her ordeal back in North America. She was transferred to New Houston as per your order. Your R and D Department did some things already ... took off that artificial stealth skin that was rotting off from the Orange Muck ... cleaned her up pretty well, even got started on replacing a lot of damaged components from her prior fight. Minato is installing software packages and trying to get her updated for everything that’s current...”

“Is she going to be ready for another tussle?”

The preacher sighed a little bit, almost as if he had second thoughts.

“I can have the ammunition installed,” Minato added. “R and D made sure to keep everything on her as it was.”

“How soon?” Darin asked.

“Less than a day.”

“Same goes with any final repairs,” Malachi said. “She might not be in the best combat capability, but she’ll be ready.”

“Good ... stay on it. Minato, you’re going to be busy for a couple of days; the same goes with you, Preacher. Be ready for a meetin’ at 8 pm tonight ... start discussing what needs to be done dealing with our shark banditos, ya hear?”

“You got it, sir,” Minato replied.

“Loud and clear,” Malachi added, the hint of hesitation still heard in his voice.

“In that case,” Darin remarked as he was just about to head out the door.

“Wait, Captain...,” Malachi interrupted him. “I need to have a word with you.”

The cowboy’s response was to wave his hand at the chief engineer to follow him. The two exited the room into the Rampage’s large central passageway. Natch, without the prior makeup and bandanna, was dressed up in different civilian attire with a tourniquet over his bitten arm. He was speaking with one of the crew members, passing along information as Darin and the chief went to speak with each other in private.

“Go ahead, preacher,” Darin told him.

“Captain,” Malachi spoke with him. “I’ve had a chance to study Orthas, and there are ... growing concerns over getting her operational again.”

“You worry it’s going to go on a killing spree again?”

“No ... not really ... more like ... concern about the builder. The doctor who created Orthas didn’t really envision his creation as a war machine.”

“You’re beginning to sound a little bit like one of my prior clients. He seemed hesitant about it as well.”

“The sins of the past, Captain Darin. Orthas was meant to operate in the farm fields, not as an instrument of destruction. I’d put Orthas’s creator or any builder like this at rest knowing that what they make is used for what it was intended.”

Darin nodded. “I reckon Orthas was never given that choice, nor was the creator. But the Itreans never gave us a choice either. Like any farmer, he has to use his tools to fight and defend his country and kin alike.” The cowboy put his hands to his hips and looked at the door where the great machine resided. “I know what the Shal’rein are capable of in ground combat. Any tussle, any fight, and they’ll throw everything they have at you.” He gestured to Natch and his injury. “In the end, we need everything we have in our possession, like a dog on a leash. Orthas needs to fight with us, defeat the Shal’rein at their own game. It’s the only way, Preacher ... the only way we have any hope of winning, ya hear?”