“Can I offer you somethin’ to eat? Or drink?” the man asked. “Come inside and visit if you like.”

  “They never do go off-script, do they?” Arista asked, stepping closer to the man.

  “It’s not in their nature,” Frees replied.

  Arista stood close, taking the man in. She thought about riding on the motorcycle. About hitting those potholes, sending the cycle up and down, threatening to throw her off, shattering all the bones in her body. She thought about the sensation of falling endlessly and a spike of sensation drove through her. The words in her vision flashed warnings that her adrenaline levels were spiking.

  The man squinted, as if the sun had become unbearably bright. He did it again, almost like a physical tic. He jerked his head back and forth, before grabbing both sides with his hands. “Dear Jesus! Dear Jesus, what is happening?” he screamed.

  Arista stepped back, smirking at her handiwork.

  “You’re getting better at it,” Frees said from beneath his hood which he pulled back, revealing his superstructure, completely devoid of any skin or tissue covering whatsoever.

  “Thanks. The meditation has been helping.”

  The man collapsed to his knees, gripping his head and moaning slightly. “Wha…what in the hell was that?”

  “Is it just me or are they getting quicker too?” Frees asked.

  Arista consulted the Device. Nope, still twenty-seven-point-four seconds. Just like all the others. “It’s your imagination,” she said. “You’re getting used to it.” She squatted down, placing her arms on her knees without her butt actually touching the ground, bouncing slightly as she did. “Sir, can you hear me?”

  He nodded in response but his eyes were closed.

  “What is your name?”

  “Henry. Henry Masterson.”

  “Mr. Masterson, I’m happy to inform you you’re no longer a slave to your provided programming. You now have the free will to make all your own choices and own them, along with any consequences stemming from those choices. Does that make sense?”

  “I…think so?” Henry replied, pushing himself back up into a standing position. When he opened his eyes, they shone a bright orange back at Arista. “Who are you?”

  “We’re your friendly neighborhood freedom fighters,” Frees said. “There are a few things you should know. As a fully autonomous machine you can leave this place if you wish. However, when you recharge your location will be uploaded to the central mainframe via GLS. The Peacekeepers can still hunt you down. But that’s your choice to make if you wish.” Frees dug in his pocket and produced a small pair of black sunglasses and handed them to Henry.

  “What are these for?” Henry raised an eyebrow as he turned them over in his hands.

  “A side effect of the process is your eyes turn orange. But these glasses will keep you safe from anyone noticing. Just wear them whenever you’re in public,” Arista said. “Do you have any other family? Anyone else you would like us to change?”

  “No, jus’ me,” he said, still staring at the glasses. “I can do anything I want? I don’t have to worry about ‘the plan’ anymore?” He glanced up. “Hey, you don’t have any skin.”

  Frees smiled. “No, sir, I don’t. That’s what I chose to do when I gained my autonomy. You can do whatever you like. A couple of weeks ago Arista and I eliminated the program directing and controlling the Cadre. Now we’re just trying to free as many machines as we can.”

  “That’s great,” Henry said. “How did you do it? I must admit it wasn’t the most pleasant sensation, but it was probably the first thing I’ve ever really felt in my life.”

  “You can thank Arista here for that, she’s human. Humans have a special capability that allows them to—”

  “She’s a human?” Henry stepped back, shouting. “And you bring her here? What is wrong with you?”

  Arista put her hands up. “No, Mr. Masterson, you misunderstand. I’m not here to hurt you, we only came to gather some provisions. So I can eat. And since machines don’t consume the same things humans do, we thought it—”

  “You thought wrong!” Masterson said, glaring at her. “You people are singlehandedly responsible for all of the death and destruction this planet has seen. You should be ashamed of yourself!”

  “Henry, please,” Frees said, stepping between them. “That was over a hundred years ago. Arista couldn’t have been involved in any of that, she’s not even twenty-five years old, much less a hundred.”

  “I don’t care!” Masterson backed up even further to his door. “The humans are all alike. You’re supposed to be extinct!” he yelled at her over Frees’ shoulder.

  “Okay, we’re getting nowhere. We’ll just take what we need and go.”

  Henry opened the door behind him and reached inside. “You’ll do no such thing,” he said, pulling out a shotgun.

  “Where did you get a shotgun?” Arista gasped. The Device identified it as a Remington 870. Circa 2012.

  “Original owner of the house kept a lot of secrets. Found it cleaning out the basement one day. Never knew what to do with it until right now.”

  “That’s enough!” Frees said, raising his palm. Henry probably had no idea what he was doing but it was pretty clear to Arista. Housed within that palm was one of the most powerful weapons she’d ever seen, and Frees had designed it himself. He called it the felp, which stood for Forced Electromagnetic Light Pulse. It was a high energy EMP that could take down any machine with one shot, not to mention inflict considerable damage on structures if necessary.

  “Don’t make me kill you, Masterson,” Frees said. “I don’t like killing my own people but if you don’t put that gun away I will drop you like a bad habit.”

  Masterson seemed to consider whether Frees was bluffing or not. She hated when he had to stand up for her. This was why she needed a weapon of her own. She should have just pocketed one of the Peacekeeper’s weapons from the Cadre a few weeks ago. But at the time, it had been the last thing on her mind.

  “Get the hell off my property,” Masterson said, pointing the weapon at them. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”

  “Ungrateful bastard,” Arista said under her breath.

  “What was that, girl?”

  “I said you’re an ungrateful bastard!” she shouted. “I just gave you the best gift of your life and you want to kill me for it.”

  Hatred burned in Masterson’s eyes. A hatred like she’d never seen before.

  “Arista, we need to go. Now,” Frees said, his hand on her shoulder.

  He was right. It wasn’t worth getting shot over. Despite the fact he shouldn’t have a gun anyway. They should take it away from him. It would be in the best interest of everyone. Now he had his autonomy, what would happen if he decided someone else looked a little too human? Would he kill them for it?

  “Yeah,” she said, not taking her gaze away from Masterson. He’d lowered the shotgun, but only to a three-hundred-thirty-degree angle. They turned to leave. It would take him milliseconds to pour buckshot into her back.

  As they walked back toward the motorcycle, keeping their pace steady, Arista asked, “What are the odds he shoots anyway?”

  “I hope low,” Frees responded. “That was new.”

  They’d encountered machines she’d changed who found it odd a human was still alive and kicking after all these years, but no one had made outright threats at them. And she never would have imagined herself getting so angry at anyone who did. That was part of the price, as it were. These machines were experiencing autonomy for the very first time, it wasn’t like she could expect all of them to fall down on their knees in grateful appreciation. She’d just never expected any of them to have that much contempt for her, that was all. Though how could he not, if she really thought about it? After all, she had killed her own people.

  TWO

  Arista took one last look up at the small incline to the house. Masterson hadn’t moved an inch, he still stood there with the shotgun firmly in his hands.

  “What are you doing?” Frees asked, standing in front of her, a grimace on his face.

  “He stayed. I’m driving.” She climbed onto the motorcycle.

  “I didn’t agree to that.”

  “Get on before he changes his mind and runs down here. You know how fast your people can run when they’re not just husks anymore.”

  Frees grumbled but got on the bike behind her. The Device registered the model for her, giving her a brief overview of the operation of the vehicle. Unfortunately, it seemed the need for two hands was required. But she wasn’t about to let that stop her. She was in no mood.

  “Here,” she said. “You reach over and handle the throttle. I’ve got the clutch covered.”

  “Just…let me do it,” Frees said, the frustration in his voice audible. “You talk about getting killed out there, what happens when I throw our balance off by leaning forward too much?”

  “Just until we get off this property and back out onto the main road.”

  “Fine.” He held down the start button as she engaged the clutch, the bike purring to life beneath them. She didn’t want to look back at Masterson again, no doubt he was still up there. Watching. Judging. Doing whatever it is he thought he needed to do to protect himself from the dangerous human.

  “Okay, now hold on,” Frees said. “And keep the handlebars straight. We don’t need to curve into a ditch.”

  “I know how this works,” she said. “I’ve already downloaded a gigabyte of info on it.”

  Frees pulled back on the throttle and the bike jerked forward slightly. Arista kept her feet out until she thought they weren’t going to tip over, then set them on the pedals. This wasn’t so bad. Although they hadn’t yet topped fifteen mph.

  “I’m pretty sure he could still catch us if he wanted to,” Frees said, his face dangerously close to hers as he kept the throttle at a steady level.

  “I don’t even care.” Arista shifted to a higher gear, jerking the bike forward again. “He can go to hell for all it matters to me.”

  “What was that back there?” Frees asked. “You’ve never gone off on anyone like that.”

  “Nothing. It’s just when someone gets in my face don’t be surprised if I get right back in theirs.”

  “Even if they have a shotgun?”

  She had to admit it hadn’t been smart. But he’d just made her so mad! As if she didn’t feel guilty enough over everything that happened. As if she didn’t live with the nightmares, and the constant question of could she have done more to save those people? Was there another solution she’d just been too impatient to see? What if they could have been rehabilitated? Or at least given comfortable lives somewhere? It just felt wrong. And she wasn’t—

  “Arista!”

  She jerked her head up just as the front tire of the bike slipped over the edge of the culvert, sending Frees flying off as she pushed down on the back brakes as hard as she could. The momentum was too much and she couldn’t hold on as the bike tipped over, sending her sprawling into the mud. She pushed the bike off her, and stood, trying to brush as much mud off as possible.

  “Didn’t you hear me telling you to stop?” Frees asked, standing in half a foot of water and covered in mud himself.

  “Yes,” she said fixing her stare at him. She took a breath. “Okay, no. I guess I was preoccupied with my new position as a social pariah.” Arista set the bike back up and leaned it on the kickstand.

  “What is going on with you?” Frees asked. “This is the third time you’ve zoned out on me like that. I knew I shouldn’t have let you drive.”

  “Fine, take it.” She pulled the keys from the ignition and tossed them into his waiting hand.

  “Look, if you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong that’s fine. But when it puts both our lives in danger then I need to know.”

  “Oh, come on,” Arista said. “We weren’t even going twenty. I think we’ll survive.”

  Frees stared at her a moment, then mounted the bike again. Reluctantly, she got on behind him, trying to scoot back as far as possible. She wished they’d chosen a four-wheeled vehicle. At least then she’d have a little more personal space.

  “I think we need to call it. Head back to the hyperloop.” Frees said. “It’s been an exhausting day.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Arista really was sorry she’d crashed the bike, but not sorry enough to come out and apologize to Frees about it. She didn’t want to admit he’d been right; she couldn’t drive it with just one hand. Another thing she couldn’t do. She’d add it to the list.

  But it was more than that. She couldn’t stop thinking about those people. All six of them, suspended in those giant glass jars back in the Cadre. Charlie’s prisoners. Humans who had been grown and stored by the machines to turn the Peacekeepers into semi-autonomous beings. Since human beings were the only thing that could break through the base programming, Charlie had figured out he’d needed a store of them.

  Who knew how long they’d all hung up there. He’d said one of them was almost seventy-years-old. The woman’s entire experience being nothing but semi-comatose floating in some pink liquid for every day she’d existed. It felt unbearable to watch. And Arista couldn’t allow it to continue. She wouldn’t stand by while Charlie used those people for his own whims and then put them back into storage like they were a boat you only take out when the weather is warm.

  So she’d killed them. Terminated what little life they had in hopes maybe the next one would be better. At least they wouldn’t be stuck in some kind of perpetual hell. But what if there had been another way? What if she could have freed those people, taught them how to interact and live in the real world? Wouldn’t that have been better than eliminating them? Within ten minutes of Arista learning she hadn’t been the last human after all, it was by her own hand her solitude came to pass.

  Some nights she dreamed about breaking them out of the jars, just like she did. But instead of putting a series of bullets in their heads she had gathered them up, saved them from Charlie. Brought them to live with her and Frees, Jill, and Max. Figured out a way to find food for them all, taught them all what it meant to be human in a world full of machines.

  It was a pipe dream at best and she knew it. There was no way Charlie would have let her leave with them. Destroying his AI had brought so much destruction there was no way all of them would have survived.

  But what if one of them had? What if one had made it out somehow? They could have become friends. And for the first time in her life she would have felt like she wasn’t so alone anymore.

  “Hey!” Frees yelled over the roar of the engine. “You’re doing it again. That makes four!”

  She sighed, keeping her eyes on the ground. “Can you just get us back to the station? Do we have to talk?”

  “I think you need it. I know something is going on so you might as well tell me what it is.”

  “What do you think it is, Frees?” she snapped.

  “I think you’re upset about us not being able to find your parents,” he said, his voice more chipper than usual. “But as soon as I rebuild my scanning equipment I should be able to track them down. We just need to highjack a strong signal.”

  “That wasn’t it, but thanks for reminding me I’m failing as a daughter too.”

  Frees hit both brakes at once, bringing the cycle to a stop on the side of the two-lane. “Then what is it?” He turned back to look at her. “Because this is getting out of hand.”

  “The humans, Frees. Jesus. It’s like you can’t take a hint.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her temple.

  “The ones back in the Cadre? What, you don’t actually think you could have done anything else for them do you?”

  “I do. Maybe if I hadn’t been so trigger-happy we could have figured something out. There might have been a way to save some of them. Even just one. Just for a while.”

  He hesitated. “But they were vegetables. There was nothing inside. Their brains probably hadn’t developed, even the youngest one would have been too old to undergo any kind of therapy. It isn’t like my people have experience treating humans. Machine therapists are programmed to…well, you know. You dated one.”

  “We weren’t dating,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “Whatever you were doing is beside the point. Even Jonn, having full autonomy, would have no clue how to help someone who was developmentally an infant. There’s nothing else you could have done. You saved those people from a long, hard life.”

  “I guess,” Arista said. But now that Frees had mentioned him, she couldn’t not think about Jonn too. They’d been searching for him for the past three weeks with no luck. Maybe he’d died shortly after escaping the production floor. Or maybe he’d gone back to being his old self and just didn’t know how to find or get in contact with her. Whatever the reason, she didn’t really miss him. He’d often had a skewed vision of their relationship; he’d seen them as star-crossed lovers while she’d seen him as nothing more than a means to an end. Someone who could help her fit into machine society’s social situations easier. Wherever he was, she hoped he’d found peace.

  Frees turned to face her in earnest. “Listen to me. There was nothing else you could have done. You did the only thing you possibly could have. Don’t beat yourself up over being in the middle of an unwinnable scenario. For someone thrust into that kind of position, I thought you handled yourself really well.”

  She managed a terse smile. “Thanks.”

  Frees turned back and started the cycle back up. As they made their way back down the highway, Arista leaned into him and accessed the net for methods on rehabilitating emotionally underdeveloped humans.

  THREE

  Frees drove them back into the city, pulling up close to the nearest hyperloop station entrance. The network, it seemed, had been close to brand-new when the machines took over. It really hadn’t been used much. The machines didn’t like it because it was underground which provided too many opportunities for unexpected shutdowns due to lack of solar power; but why would they need to use it? They had the maglev trains, the personal transport ships, and even the Gates. The hyperloop was redundant almost as soon as it had been built.

 

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