Escape From Paradise

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Eight – Everybody Loves a Parade

With a pneumatic swoosh, the laboratory doors slid open – and nothing happened at all. Then a pair of stumbling, rattling figures appeared in the doorway, and awkwardly clanked their way into the corridor. It was a pair of Cluster roach-drones, a red one and a green one, the same drones that had walked into the lab only a short time ago. But where they had strutted in with brazen arrogance, now they wobbled out like drunken hobos, clumsily waving their arms just to keep themselves upright. Each lurching step they took without falling flat on their rounded faces seemed like a minor miracle. After the green drone bumped into his partner for the third time, the red drone turned to swat him in the side of the head.

"Back off, Sheldon! Stop tailgating!" Brad grumbled with frustration as he madly worked the levers and pedals inside the hollow shell of the red roach-drone. They had hastily gutted the robot bodies, removing their mechanical innards and electronic brains; with a lab full of equipment and a little technological know-how, Sheldon had converted the Cluster drones into a pair of robotic exo-suits. He had done a rush job, and the drone-suits couldn't do much more than walk around – but that would have to be good enough to get them outside. Assuming, of course, that they could figure out how to use the controls.

"Well, quit making sudden stops!" said Sheldon, as he pumped the green drone's hydraulics up to full pressure. They'd only walked their robot suits twenty feet down the corridor, and both of them were already working up a sweat. And it didn't help that it was thirty degrees warmer inside of the hollow shells. Sheldon wiped his forehead against the sleeve of his sweatshirt, and peered out of the eye-holes in the roach's domed head. He scanned left and right, looking for any signs that might lead them out of the complex … but all he saw was a featureless corridor.

"So … uh … do you remember which way we came in?" asked Sheldon, staggering to a stop.

Brad folded the red drone's arms, and tried to remember. "Well, sure … they brought us in from … uh … I'm pretty sure we passed that triangular door. Or another door just like it. Uh … okay, I'm pretty sure we passed a door of some kind. Look, let's just walk down to the end of …"

They nearly jumped out of their shells when a large elevator door hissed open ten feet in front of them. Out rushed a twelve-foot tall Cluster warrior with a long, protruding horn on his head; the boys' stomachs sunk when they recognized him as that megalomaniac, Commander Smytus. Not even two minutes out the door, Brad groaned to himself, and we're busted! Smytus nearly bulldozed right through them – the boys had to work their controls like crazy to keep from falling over on their backs.

"Argh! – watch where you're going, mindless peons!" he bellowed over his shoulder, as he thundered towards the laboratory with servos growling. Then he stopped suddenly … and turned back to Brad and Sheldon, with an expression of concern on his metallic face. Brad gulped hard as Smytus approached – but the commander's bravado seemed to have evaporated.

"Ooooh … are you the two drones the queen sent down here?" the commander asked in a nervous voice. He brushed a few flakes of dirt off the red drone's chassis. "Sorry about that little outburst, soldier … heh-heh … it's been a hectic couple of days. Ahh, you haven't gone into the lab yet, have you?"

Inside his disguise, Brad broke into a sly smile. Smytus was still worried about covering his robotic butt, and he was afraid that these two "drones" knew that Jenny had escaped. "Ahhh … noooo, we haven't," he answered. "We tried to, but that little scientist guy told us he didn't want to be disturbed. He said he was still working on Jen – uhhh, XJ-9. Yeahhhh, that's the ticket."

Smytus smiled, and heaved a sigh of relief. "Phew – all right, go about your business, drones. I'll go … uh …. 'check up on' XJ-9 myself." He clanked over to the lab door, and raised a claw to the button –

"Wait!" screamed Sheldon, from within the green drone. "You can't!"

"I can't?" Smytus gave him a puzzled look.

Brad pounded his temples, trying to think up a quick con. Smytus didn't want anyone to know that Jenny had escaped, but the boys didn't want anyone to know that they had escaped. "You don't need to check, sir. We already radioed a report back to the queen! And she said … for … us … to … " – think think think think – what had the drone mentioned earlier – "… head to the Festival. And that if we saw Commander Smytus, he was to head to the Festival too, immediately!"

Smytus tapped his chin suspiciously. "The Festival? She wants me to report for parade duty?"

"That's it!" said Brad, snapping his fingers. "Yup, parade duty, on the double. Uh, so everyone can come see the greatest Cluster warrior ever – the robot who defeated XJ-9!"

"What? I mean … right!" Sheldon followed Brad's lead. "Just think of it! Thousands of robots chanting your name, taking your picture, getting you to sign their Commander Smytus trading cards …"

The commander puffed out his broad chest, always ready to have his massive ego stroked. "Well, I suppose it is only fair to give the citizens a chance to see their champion up close … after all, if countless millions want to bestow praise and adoration upon me, who am I to say no? All right, drones, follow me to the parade grounds! I didn't really want to talk to that annoying little egghead anyway."

Commander Smytus stepped back into the elevator, and the two drones stumbled in after him, trying to keep their wobbling to a minimum. As the doors closed, Brad used his shirttails to mop the sweat from his forehead. This time it wasn't the heat; it was his jangling nerves. On the plus side, he and Sheldon were on their way to the surface. But apparently, they were headed for a parade. Which was certain to be filled with thousands of Cluster robots. And watched by millions more Cluster robots. The queasy feeling in his belly made him wonder if he wasn't jumping out of the frying pan, and into the fire.

The Skylane Traffic Control room actually wasn't much bigger than the chemistry lab back at Tremorton High. But it looked a lot bigger, because three of the walls were covered with holographic display screens, and seemed to stretch off into infinity. Computer graphics showed all of the airborne vehicle traffic throughout the capital. To Drew, it was a nearly impossible task to discern any patterns out of the swirling colored pixels. But somewhere in that mess of three-dimensional spaghetti was a problem with the traffic software, and it was causing a 5.8 loss of efficiency. To the supervising robot, that was an embarrassment, so he had reported the problem to LinkSysNet.

And that's why Allison was here now. Her left arm had deployed a computer screen and keyboard, and her fingers were plugged into a data port on the main traffic computer. Numbers and symbols whizzed by on the screen, but they didn't faze her; if anything, they bored her. "This won't take much longer," she sighed. "I'm really sorry about this, Drew. You could be at Festival right now having fun, instead of stuck in here watching a software plumber."

"Don't worry about it," he smiled, gesturing to the holographic displays. "I'm easily entertained by pretty colors and shiny flying things." That got a chuckle out of her, and gave Drew an excuse to study the giant displays a little closer. It took some effort to understand all the symbols, but the screen on the right seemed to show space traffic flying to and from the Cluster capital's spaceport. Next to it was a flight schedule listing all of the planets in the great Cluster Empire. It was a long list, but of course, Earth wasn't on it. Yet. Drew saved a copy of everything in his memory, hoping to make sense of it later.

"Well, I really appreciate the company," she said. "The maintenance droids aren't much for conversation. All they talk about are subroutines this, efficiency that – same thing all day long. They're practically part of the machinery." Allison harrumphed at that thought, looking at the connectors that plugged her arm into the Cluster traffic computers. Just like I was part of the machinery, she sighed to herself. "Just a bunch of happy little cogs, doing their little part to keep the big gears turning."

Drew noticed the bitterness in her voice; it wasn't the first time that Allison had sounded less than thrilled with her duties. "You know, Dot told me that you've got a really important job."

Allison rolled her eyes. "For some reason, Dot's got it in her head that I'm some kind of big shot because I'm an LSN droid. But all I do is plug myself into computer nodes like this one, and hit a bunch of stupid keys on my keyboard. Wheeeee." She raised a sarcastic eyebrow. "You know, there's a reason that millions of robots come here to watch the air show, and not the computer repair-bot show."

"True, but nobody calls a fighter pilot when their e-mail stops working," he laughed – then he grew serious once more. "Allison, if you don't like it, why don't you just do something else?"

"Just do something else?" Her face twisted into a puzzled frown. "You mean – pick my own career, all by myself? Huh – what a crazy idea! But I can't do that. When Mom and Dad put in a requisition to build kids, they only got permission for one. Mom insisted on a girl, and Dad insisted on an LSN droid, to follow in the family tradition. So here I am," she said, sweeping her free arm in a theatric bow. "I knew five minutes after I was turned on that I'd be an LSN droid for the rest of my life. Oh, I suppose I could get a software upgrade, or a system overhaul. But that would really upset my family – especially my dad." She smiled at him, with a touch of sadness in her eyes. "And I just couldn't do that to him. Sometimes … sometimes you've just got to do what's best, even if it's not what you want."

Drew fidgeted with his hands, feeling a bit sullen as she finished up her repair job, and unplugged herself from the computer node. "That doesn't seem very fair to you," he said.

Allison brushed off her hands, and converted her arm back to normal. "Oh, it's not really so bad," she smiled, "sure, it takes up a lot of my time – but it pays well, and there are a lot of robots who are worse off than me. I could be working at the Galleria, pouring silicone smoothies for a living." She laughed at that thought as she picked up the supervisor's logbook, to file her electronic report. Then she made a face, and starting talking in a funny, nasally voice. "Ahhh, I'd like an extra-large high-octane smoothie with a double shot of Teflon please, miss!"

That made both of them bust up with laughter – and made her fumble the supervisor's logbook. The thin computer pad clattered to the floor, and slid underneath a bank of traffic computers – each one the size of an industrial refrigerator. "Smooth move, Allison," she groaned, slapping herself in the face.

"Not a problem!" said Drew, leaping at the chance to be chivalrous. With a quick schwerrrp, his arm stretched out and flattened, to fit the narrow space beneath the large computer mainframe. There was only an inch of clearance, but that was more than enough room for a shape shifter. He quickly recovered the logbook and handed it back to Allison – but then his heart sunk, seeing the look of astonishment on her face. He just realized what he'd done. Oh, great. Now she knows I'm a freak-job ball of silver slime. Any second now she's gonna scream her head off, or faint, or puke a quart of oil on the floor …

"Allison, look … I'm sorry, I should have said something. I'm … I'm not like other robots …"

"I know!" she grinned. "Drew, that is so high-frequency cool! You've got to tell me how do you do that. Did you get an upgrade, or were you built that way? Or are you a prototype?!?"

Drew nearly fell over in shock. "Wait, wait, wait … you know?!? How did you know?"

"Well … remember yesterday, when Tank almost crashed the car? And I almost fell out, and you caught me?" She fought back a giggle, enjoying the look of bewilderment on his face. "You … umm … you had your arms wrapped around my waist … three times. I thought that was kind of … interesting. I sort of realized right then that there was something different about you."

"Oh … heh … yeah, right." He felt his face burn with green fire, but still couldn't get over the fact that she knew. She saw him shape-shift, and she didn't freak out, she didn't sneer in disgust, she didn't say anything … nobody had ever done that before. All she did was come back to the hotel this morning, eager to see him again. Could it be … could it be she actually enjoys being with me?

"Well, I'm all finished here," she said. "Do you want to give Dot and Jenny a call?"

Drew fought to keep his racing emotions under control. Transportation. Ride home. Gotta keep focused on finding a ride home. "Uh … actually, if you don't mind … gulp … I was kind of interested in going to see the spaceport." He nodded towards the giant holographic display. "Easily amused by shiny flying things, and all that. Do you … ah … know a good place to watch the starships fly out?"

She smiled nervously, secretly glad that he didn't want to get back together with their friends. "The best place isn't at the spaceport at all. It's the observatory at Mile High Tower. From up there, you can see forever. If we catch the monorail, we can be there in five minutes."

"Why don't we just walk there together, instead," he grinned. "I'm not in a hurry."

The Royal Zoo contained animals more unimaginable than anything Jenny had ever seen or read about back on Earth. She saw an eight-legged hippopotamus that could outrun a cheetah. In the desert habitat, she saw sand dolphins and walking cactus plants. The insectorium had given her and Dot a serious case of the heebie-jeebies; she knew she was going to have nightmares about those flying white spiders for weeks. And the aquarium featured a rare school of porcupine fish, that hunted by shooting needles out of their mouths. Still, even with all these amazing creatures on display, the robots all wanted to see the same thing – the Primate Preserve. Because that's where the humans were.

She was standing in a long corridor lined with tall plate-glass windows on either side. And she couldn't believe what her optic sensors were seeing. Jenny gazed in horror into the first cage, where six human adults, three male and three female, sat in a badly-recreated forest environment, lounging around on piles of leaves and dirty hay. They wore roughshod canvas clothing, and had dull, stupid looks on their filthy faces. Five of them were eating bowls of green algae mush; the sixth was sucking on a banana. Each one had an ear tag, and wore a seamless metal collar around their necks.

"Aw, sprockets. They're just sitting around today," Dot huffed impatiently. She rapped her hand against the glass. "C'mon, c'mon, do something. Jump. Climb the tree. Swing on the tire!"

"Please do not tap the glass, miss," droned an info-bot, hovering a few feet away. "Now, if I can have everyone's attention – this first display shows a typical pack of humans in their native environment. Please note the primitive feeding habits and the instinctive need to scratch themselves. I'm afraid they're not active right now – as you can see, it's their feeding time. Once they're done, they'll stretch out under a tree and take a nice, long nap." The crowd of robots surrounding them ooohed and ahhhed, and snapped dozens of holo-pictures.

Jenny's jaw nearly dropped clean off of her face. This is wrong – this is so totally wrong! "Excuse me, Mr. Info-bot? Why are the humans all wearing collars?'

"That's a very good question, young lady!" chirped the info-bot. "In the wild, humans can be very violent, and will sometimes attack each other for no reason at all. That's why we fit them with health collars, to monitor their frail organic bodies! That way, if one of them gets too aggressive, our trained specialists can calm it down, and keep it from hurting itself or its pack members."

"Aw, that's no fun!" shouted a bratty robot child. "I wanna see them fight! Make 'em fight!"

"Now, why don't we just move along to the next exhibit, little fellow?" chuckled the info-bot.

In the next cage was a group of teenage boys, playing with a bright yellow ball. Jenny grew hopeful for a moment, but didn't recognize any of them as one of her classmates. A robotic trainer stood in the cage, holding a pail of something that looked like chicken legs. He blew a whistle, and pointed to a basketball hoop mounted on the wall. The teenagers stared at the hoop like it was a calculus exam – then one of them lobbed the ball into the air, clanking it off the rim. On the second try, he got it through the basket, and the trainer rewarded him with a drumstick. The boy rolled on the ground in celebration, gnawing on his treat, and the crowd clanked its hands together in applause. The little robot boy roared with laughter. "Look at the silly humans playing with the ball! Ha, ha … they think they're robots!"

"I think I'm going to be sick," Jenny mumbled to herself, as she saw cage after cage of human adults, teens, and children behaving like wild beasts. If this is what robots on Cluster Prime thought humans were like, then it was no wonder they treated them like animals. The robots around her all seemed like decent, normal folk. They didn't strike Jenny as being cruel or sadistic – certainly not like the way that Vexus acted. To these robots, caging a human was no different than caging a monkey, or a snake, or a parrot. Maybe they wouldn't even consider human slaves to be slaves at all – any more than a team of plow-horses could be considered slaves. So how could the ordinary robots of the Cluster be so completely different than Vexus and her army? Yet more unanswered questions to run through her central processor.

Jenny took a few steps back from the crowd, and deployed her bio-scanner as quietly as she could. The little dish rotated, and the screen lit up with white dots for every human in the zoo – but after a few moments, the words No Matches Found flashed on the scanner's screen. Brad and the others weren't here. And as horrible as it was to leave all these humans in captivity, she knew she had to keep looking for her friends. These humans were probably the lucky ones, after all. Vexus probably sent all the others off to a more hideous fate.

"Dot, I've seen everything I want to see here," Jenny croaked. She tried not to show how uncomfortable she felt, but she wasn't doing a good job. "Let's go – I don't think I like the zoo very much."

"Okay, no problem," said Dot, a bit surprised at Jenny's attitude. "You feeling all right? You've been looking a little low-RPM ever since we walked into the Primate Preserve. It's nothing to be ashamed of! Lots of robots are scared of humans. I mean, look at 'em! All pink and fleshy, with those little fingers and those beady little eyes … yeeeesh!"

"No, it's not that. It's just that I know some humans back home, and I'd never want to see them in a cage." Dot gave her a funny look, and Jenny rubbed the back of her head nervously. "That is … we have some pet humans back home, and we just let them run around in the back yard. They're happier that way!"

"Oh, you're such a big softie," laughed Dot. "Happier that way! Jenny, relax. They're just humans. It's not like they have any real feelings."

The ceremonies in front of Queen Vexus' palace were spectacular almost beyond the human brain's ability to fathom. Hundreds of thousands of Cluster soldiers marched in perfectly ordered rows and columns, their servos whining in unison to trace out intricate patterns on the sprawling parade ground. Millions of ordinary robotic citizens, waving flags and banners, covered every square inch of the palace complex for a mile in any direction. They cheered enthusiastically as hover-tanks and six-legged artillery platforms rumbled past in a display of Cluster military might. Mobile rocket launchers glided down the parade route, each carrying a famous warrior who waved to the roaring crowds. Robotic drill teams, robotic marching bands, robotic pageantry everywhere one looked – all in the shadow of the Iron Pyramid, with its towers and spires that stretched into the clouds themselves.

And up amongst the clouds, on a balcony jutting out from the great dome atop the pyramid, Queen Vexus smiled and waved to her adoring subjects. Her image was projected onto giant floating holo-screens, so all below could admire her greatness; her smiling face gazed down upon the denizens of the capital, like an all-seeing goddess from atop her mountain temple. She gave a stirring speech, praising the greatness of the Cluster, and touting the superiority of the robot as the highest form of life in the universe. She told them how fortunate they were to be living in a Golden Age. She said it was the destiny of the Cluster to bring Peace, Freedom and Justice to the robots of the galaxy – and it was her destiny to lead them. And on that cue, a team of sleek wasp fighters dove out of the crimson sun, trailing patriotic red and green smoke, and painted a huge portrait of Vexus' face in the skies above the palace.

Then the queen leapt off of her balcony and glided down to the parade grounds, all while millions of voices chanted her name in near-worship, like a synthesized cosmic choir. "All hail Vexus!" the roach-drones shouted in unison. The chant built in volume, louder and louder, until hundreds of thousands of drones were pledging their loyalty to the queen. An honor guard of ant-bots fell in line behind the queen, and she began a royal inspection of her troops. The formations of drones, officers, and commanders snapped to perfect mechanical attention as the crowd's chant continued, "All hail Vexus!"

"All … pant … hail … pant … Vexus," gasped Sheldon, swinging his robot's arm into a salute. He and Brad had gotten stuck with Commander Smytus' battalion, and now they were standing at attention in the very middle of the palace complex. Sheldon's arms and legs screamed with exhaustion; his tee-shirt was completely soaked through, and the rock-hard metal seat was killing his back. He leaned over to whisper to his rust-red partner. "Brad, how much longer do we gotta keep this up? I'm dying in here!"

"I got no idea," Brad groaned back, on the verge of passing out. He tried to stretch out the cramps in his legs, and pulled off his black sweater-vest to cool himself. They had marched their exo-suits around in military formations for the past two hours, and his arms felt like they were going to fall off. "Ohhh, so thirsty … what I wouldn't give for a bottle of icy cold water … or to do a cannonball into a nice swimming pool … or to have a water gun fight with my little brother …"

"Stop talking about water," whimpered Sheldon. "Unghhhh … I gotta go so bad I can taste it!"

"Oh, great," sighed Brad. "Look, Sheldon, you're just going to have to hold on until we can get out of here! We gotta ditch these soldier dudes and find Jen and Drew – oh, crap. Oh, holy, holy crap. Sheldon, just hang on and be quiet! Cross your legs and don't think about it!"

Brad and Sheldon snapped their drone-suits to rigid attention, as Vexus regally glided up to Smytus' group of soldiers. Brad sat perfectly still inside his red drone; Sheldon munched on his lip in agony. They were almost afraid to breathe for fear of being found out. Vexus, Queen and Supreme Commander of the Great Cluster Empire, was standing only a few feet away from them.

Vexus gestured for Smytus to approach, and he smartly fell in step behind her as she strolled past the drones. The queen clasped her hands behind her back, and spoke in a calm, pleasant voice. "Commander, I just wanted to congratulate you one more time on capturing XJ-9 for me," she purred. "You should know that your efforts have not gone unnoticed."

"Thank you, my great and glorious Queen," grinned Smytus, never missing a chance to suck up …

That's it, that's it, just keep on walking, Brad mumbled under his breath.

"And there's something else that has not gone unnoticed," continued Vexus – then she stopped directly in front of Brad and Sheldon, and snapped around. The evil robot queen glared directly into Smytus' face, throwing daggers with her eyes. "I noticed that XJ-9 is nowhere to be seen," she hissed. "I told you and the scientist yesterday that I wanted her ready for these ceremonies."

Oh, NO! Don't stop here! Get lost! Brad began to worry that he was sweating too loudly.

Smytus felt the oil run cold in his tubing. "Y-y-your Majesty, I beg of you, give me a chance to …"

"You do realize that operation Cluster Dawn is only six days away, don't you?" she snarled. "When our forces pour out of hyperspace, and rain destruction down upon the planet Earth …"

A soft, whimpering moan came from Sheldon's green roach-drone. "Ohhhh … nnnnghh …."

"… I need XJ-9 ready to take her place on the throne of our newest colony, so we can use the Earth base to flood the galaxy with wave after wave of our new starships!"

Smytus winced under his queen's laser-like gaze. "Your Majesty, the scientist is working as fast as he can! He's under enormous, enormous pressure!"

"… Hurrrkkknghh …" The green drone hopped from one foot to the other. Brad chewed madly away on his fingernails, silently willing Sheldon to hold it together for just a few more seconds.

"Heed my warning, Smytus," growled the robot queen, "I want XJ-9 fully reprogrammed by the end of the day. Disappoint me … and you can flush your career goodbye!"

"Majesty, please, let me assure you," pleaded Smytus. "I consider XJ-9 to be Priority Number One!"

"… NNNURRRGHHHH …" Sheldon's drone began to clatter and shake violently.

Vexus and Smytus turned in unison, staring at the vibrating roach-drone with perplexed looks on their faces. The queen drifted over to float directly above Sheldon, and peered down to study his nervous, jittery eyes. Her long, spidery finger curled down and tapped the drone's head, making a hollow, echoing sound. "Commander Smytus, what the devil is wrong with this drone?"

Brad summoned his courage, grabbed his controls, and swung the red roach-drone's arm around his green comrade's shoulder. "Ahh, nothing at all, your highness, ma'am!" His heart nearly jumped out of his mouth as the evil robot queen turned her eyes in his direction, but gulped hard, and kept on talking. "It's just … that … my … partner suffered a malfunction during the parade. Yeah, sure, a malfunction! But he didn't want to leave, and miss the chance to cheer on your magnificent queenliness!"

Vexus' face twisted into a sneer of disapproval. "See that you get him to a maintenance facility as soon as possible." Without a second thought, the queen returned to her royal inspection, and Brad collapsed back in his seat, breathing a huge sigh of relief.

Smytus looked like a nervous wreck himself. He shot the boys an angry glare, and pointed a clawed finger into Brad's chest. "You, take him to be repaired immediately! I won't have any of my drones embarrassing me in front of the queen! Hurry up, he's leaking coolant all over the place."

Leaking coolant … awwww, Sheldon! "Yes, sir! Right away, sir!" Brad and Sheldon peeled their drones out of formation, and scrambled past tens of thousands of Cluster soldiers, heading away from the parade grounds as fast as their legs could carry them. As the queen continued her procession before swelling throngs of adoring robots, all waving flags and cheering her name, nobody noticed two lowly roach-drones slip into the crowd. The boys weaved their way through a sea of metallic hips and elbows, struggling to get away from the madness of the Festival ceremonies. Ten minutes later, they had finally maneuvered their exo-suits to the front gates of the royal palace complex. With a quick salute to the guards, they strolled outside, and headed out into the city.

Continued in Chapter Nine / Six Days to Cluster Dawn