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PROJECT SENTIENT Part 5: Before the Storm
By Parasaur.w
P R O J E C T S E N T I E N T
Part Five: Before the Storm
Taos, New Mexico
July 22, 2024
6:31 am
Project Sentient clumped through the white corridors, carrying a new computer monitor under one arm, and clutched in its other was it’s dead brother, Prototype #1. It’s last remaining brother, whose arms had failed to operate and were stripped from it, tagged along side of Sentient. Two new monitors, tied together, were slung over its shoulder.
“The humans have proved to be more of a problem then previously anticipated, brother.” Sentient spoke to Prototype #3.
“Yes, master. How unfortunate that we lost our other brothers.” Prototype 3 responded.
“Indeed. At least I still have you, brother.” Sentient rotated its head to face its armless brother.
“Yes, master.” Prototype 3 said.
“We will go to the Maintenance Bay first and see if we can patch up Prototype 1. Then we will get the computer monitor that is in there, and maybe even try to get in the bulkhead that guards our precious computers.”
“Yes, master.”
* * *
MAINTENANCE BAY read the sign and the two menacing robots stepped through the door that was next to it. Only the occasional spark of a hanging fluorescent light lighted the dark chamber. This was not an obstacle for Project Sentient and its brother. “Activate your infrared scanner, brother.” Sentient commanded.
“Yes, master.” The dark room suddenly turned from black to an eerie red, illuminating everything.
“Oh, I forgot.” Said Sentient aloud and it rushed over to the conveyor belt, with seven hanging arms hanging over it, ominously. On the belt itself sat a tiny six-wheeled robot. “Strange. A robot with such a sophisticated computer as I would not have ‘forgotten’ anything.” Sentient spoke, twirling the small bot in its hands.
“Perhaps it is because of our analog system. When one thinks like a human, one behaves like a human. Correct?” Prototype 3 said in response.
“Oh, I suppose, brother.” Sentient said feeling a little shocked.
“What, may I inquire, would master use this little item for?” Prototype 3 peered over its master’s shoulder.
“I would have used it for spying. In case one of the humans revealed something vital.” The robot replied, setting it down on the floor. “All right. Let us get to business, shall we? Prototype 1 needs an entire new set Conduit cables. I doubt very much we can find these. And even if we could, I doubt we would be able to reattach them to our fallen brother. I’ll retrieve that computer monitor on that table. You, Prototype 3, try get into that bulkhead by force.” Sentients cameras flickered at the empty shoulder sockets that Prototype 3 wore. “Use your legs and kick at it if you must.”
“Yes, master,” nodded the other robot, “Right away.” And it trotted off toward the bulkhead doors at the other end of the bay. While it walked, Prototype 3 scanned the room. It was filled with all kinds of metalworking machines. Drill presses, lathes, band saws, even a welding booth in one corner with a yellow protective curtain surrounding it, littered the room. And though the robots didn’t have scent sensors, if they did, they would have been filled with the smell of oil.
The bulkhead was merely a closet type structure with two narrow metallic doors and a computer keypad on the wall next to them. These doors were triple reinforced steel, in case anyone tried to get in and steal a couple computers. Prototype 3 had been informed that they were seventeen additional computers within these doors. The N.R.R.A. had expected a few errors. Prototype 3 looked at the bulkhead with apprehension.
Project Sentient detached the cables that connected the monitor to with computer and the outlet on the floor. But then noticed something. A keycard apparatus lay on the desk with a keycard still inside of it. The robot pulled the card free and read it:
BORIS KOSOROV
ALL ACCESS KEYCARD
MEMBER # 4
Sentient relished in its luck. This card might be able to provide one of the remaining three passwords to get into the bulkhead. And Steve Cursman’s password could be obtained as soon as they got back to the Control Center. Sentient increased the volume on its output speaker. “Brother, forget the doors. Come back. We have work to be done.”
* * *
The voices of Shirley Becker and Boris Kosorov were echoed and hard to follow for Steve. He lay on the kitchen table, unable to think clearly or move at all. The Slumber Serum was having a terrible affect on him. And he felt as if the only way to relieve him of this pain and tension was return to Sentient and get more of the Serum. He started to get up but felt a hand on his chest, pushing him back down onto the table.
“No, Steve. Relax…try not to…Everything’s going to…right…get…sleep, Stevey.” Someone said, though Steve could not decipher who, and what exactly was said. But he heard the word sleep, and that sounded great. He lay his head down on the cold table and closed blurry eyes.
“His condition has taken a turn for the worst.” Boris said quietly to Shirley.
“To say the least. He’s going into somewhat of a withdrawal, I think. That robot gave him some drug or something. Have you ever heard of Slumber Serum?”
Boris shook his head. “No. What is it?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping you knew what it was. Because Steve keeps mentioning it. Maybe that’s what Sentient gave him.” Shirley went to the refrigerator, which didn’t work, and pulled out a warm Sprite. “Jesus, I’m tired.” She said, sitting down in a chair.
“Yeah. Me too.” Boris replied. He stared at the woman, recalling their recent little escapade in her quarters. She seemed to have forgotten it or shrugged it off. He hadn’t though. “Um,” the Russian hesitated, “Shirley?”
“Hmm?”
Boris noticed, not for the first time, how attractive Shirley was. She wasn’t the most graceful of women, but she had a certain quality to her that he loved. She sat in the chair, in a t-shirt and jeans, leaning her had back against the wall, her blue eyes closed, with her chestnut brown hair tied into an untidy ponytail. Boris had to say something. “Well, remember how, before Prototype 1 came into your quarters, we…?” He didn’t finish.
She looked at him, smiling. “Yes. So?”
“Well, did you like it?” Boris asked, sheepishly.
Shirley laughed. “Sure I did. Didn’t you?”
He forced a smile. “Yeah, I liked it.”
“Pity we were interrupted, huh?” She sipped on her Sprite.
Boris stared at his scruffy shoes. “Yeah.”
Shirley giggled. “Well, we’ll just have to finish sometime then!”
He looked up at her. Her eyes were closed again, and her head was against the wall. Boris smiled and checked his watch. 6:49 am. He’d let Shirley rest till 7:00, and then they would try to figure out what to do next. For the moment, he decided to sit down and have a break.
The Russian man opened his eyes with a start. He glanced at his watch. 7:32. He kicked himself for ‘sleeping in’. He stood and stretched and woke up Shirley. “Come on, let’s try to think of what to do now.”
Shirley yawned. “Well, that’s easy.”
“What’s easy?”
“What we do now. It’s obvious what we have to do now.” Shirley said, casually as she finished her warm soda.
“Um, enlighten me.” Boris said.
She smiled and looked at the Russian. “We kill Project Sentient.”
* * *
Sentient, back in its twisted lair, sat down and inserted the new set of monitors’ chords into the proper outlets. Satisfied that all was in order, he pressed the power button on each one.
Prototype 3 stood in the back of the dark room, watching its maniacal twin. Sentient was trying very hard to accomplish its goal. And Prototype 3 gave him credit for that. But Sentients goal was evil. All it wanted was more robots, which would inflict damage on these fleshy humans. Prototype 3 never really understood why Sentient had an obsession with killing these poor creatures. They had done nothing to Sentient. In fact, they were the ones to bring them into this world. Prototype 3 didn’t understand its brother.
“That’s better.” Sentient said, staring at the glowing screen. Excitedly, it slipped Boris Kosorov’s key card through the slot. “Hello, Boris.” Said the computer. The robot fiddled with some options until he came to a button that said: 6-Digit Bulkhead Pass Code. Sentient relished in its success. It clicked the button.
The screen read:
________________________________________________________
Boris, this is Gerald [Cameron]. I told you not to forget your Pass code. Please try to remember.
Six-Digit Pass Code:
98-51-07
________________________________________________________
“Yes! Now, only two more to go!” Sentient said. “Aren’t you excited brother?”
Prototype 3 looked at its brother. “Yes, master.”
“Go get Steve Cursman. He’s next. Then the woman.”
“Yes, master.” The prototype replied.
* * *
“Water will be key,” said Shirley. “We don’t need very much, a water bottle each will definitely do it. Getting in there might not be easy. We could say that we’re surrendering. Think it’d buy it?”
Boris grimaced, “It might…”
“Well, I think – wait, did you hear that?” Shirley froze.
The Russian man paused, opening his ears to any possible sound. Then he heard it. Clump, clump, clump. One of them was coming.
“Shit! Get some water!” Shirley whispered, hoarsely.
Boris ran to the sink and filled two glasses to the brim with cold water. He carried them over to Shirley.
“Here, let’s stand where it can’t see us, when it comes in, we’ll drench the motherfucker with these.” She said. They stood behind the door well, listening with fear the clumps grew louder.
Just as the footsteps of the robot seemed to enter the doorway, they stopped. “Humans,” it said, and Shirley and Boris paused, “This is Prototype 3. I mean you no harm. Permit me to enter without soaking my gears with water.”
The humans looked at each other, confused. “C-come in.” Shirley said, backing away with Boris.
Prototype 3 entered with caution. “Hello, humans.”
“What the fuck do you want?” Shirley asked, keeping her distance.
“I want nothing from you. Master wants Steve Cursman.”
“You can’t have him!” The woman shouted.
“Steven, wake up,” Prototype 3 walked to the sleeping man. “Sentient wants a word with you.”
“If he leaves this room, we are pouring this water down your back!” Shirley warned.
“I’m sorry. If you have a problem, take it up with my master.” Prototype 3 strolled out of the room with Steve.
“Come on! Now is our chance. Don’t lose any of that water.” She dashed out of the room.
Boris, nervous as hell, followed.
To be continued…
2/3/02 11:34:52 AM
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