Ch9 Will Work For Food

Drones are even more interesting on the inside than the outside.

After I dropped the two ambushers down the tunnel the one with the projectile weapon managed to survive (barely), and I managed to interrogate it before it succumbed to its wounds. From what I got out of it the drone who followed me is a ‘tracker’, and after it followed me to the tunnel entrance it called for it’s ‘friend’ because they owned a ‘gun’. Apparently it had at first just planned to take money from an ‘easy mark’, but when I traveled back and forth between Ashwood Street and the tunnels it had suspected I had something more valuable. Perhaps one of those ‘gizmos’ that Jasper had mentioned?

My amateur autopsy of the two drones revealed quite a few things, namely that drones also have internal variants. Between the both of them I got a good idea of what a normal drone might be like which raised questions (why have several redundant organs but only one heart?), and the tracker drone specifically had some interesting modifications, namely to its olfactory sense organs. Whereas the drone with the gun seemed to have a normal concentration of cells to detect smells (similar to what I used) the tracker had nearly forty times as many cells, as well as extra modifications to its processing center which I assume were to handle the extra information processing.

Normally I would call this level of sensory intake to be overkill, but if it works it works. I was sure I had outrun the tracker by a large enough margin to lose it, but with this powerful of a sensory organ it could probably smell the barest residue left behind from when my feet hit the ground. I’d have to think of a countermeasure.

Other than the organs and enhancements I also learned that drones are much better eating than rats. Lots of fats, oils, and useful cell structures, which isn’t surprising if Maggie’s burgers are any indication of their normal eating habits. Between the two I had more than replenished my missing mass and increased my energy reserves even further. At this rate I would probably have to recalculate my norms for resource management. Obviously the white-coats had kept me somewhat starved.

Once I was done disposing of the remains (making sure to record the tracker design for later) I examined the ‘gun’, being extra careful to point it away from my core. It seemed like a simple enough device. A handle to hold it, the hole where the projectile came from, and a little lever which was most likely the trigger. Attempting to test the weapon wound up with nothing happening when I pulled the trigger. After I fiddled with all the movable parts to see if that would make it work, I eventually gave up and dismantled it. The problem was immediately apparent, while it looked functional on the outside the insides were rusted and ill-maintained. It was basically just a fused lump of metal at this point. I did recover what was most likely the ammo supply, two small canisters filled with a volatile chemical powder. These I dismantled and absorbed since the chemicals were more useful to me as raw resources, although I did record its composition like I did the tracker design.

Done with my examination of the weapon I again had to adjust my disguise. Now that I had more mass I had to compress myself a bit more to maintain the look. I wanted to continue to use my current young appearance as it seemed to trigger a cooperative instinct in some drones like Jasper and Maggie, and caused other drones like my would be ambushers to underestimate me. While it had been the reason I was targeted in the first place, even that was to my benefit. If opportunists like these two drones had to rely on targeting the weak then they would be no match for me, and since they did not seem to have the support of the general drone network they would most likely not be missed. Hopefully more would fall for the same trap.

Disguise adjusted I left the tunnels to go to Maggie’s, but when I arrived the diner was dark, and a closed sign was hung on the door. I had spent too long examining the drones and Maggie had closed the diner for the night. Disappointment.

Instead I trudged back to the tunnels, deciding to hibernate until the sun rose again. At least, I assumed it would. I was still having trouble with the mechanics of the ‘sun’. A giant ball of flame that rose out of the ground and then traveled across the ceiling. Would it rise from the other direction next cycle? Or did it make some loop through a different area before coming back around? The shape of this space was odd, very confusing. I had noticed being confused more and more often lately. When I had been walking to Maggie’s I had actually tripped, had to be more careful about that. And that blade drone! How do those blades work? Nearly cut me to pieces. Bite sized pieces. All the different organs and pieces. Why so many filter organs? Confusing confusing. I want a burger…

Human.exe shutdown;

Abnormal process activity detected: analyzing…

Drone processor center analogous to Human.exe processor requirements.

Drone cycle logged at 24 hours. Drone rest cycle estimated at 6-10 hours.

Former up-time of Human.exe: 144.35 hours.

Estimated recovery time: 7.4 hours.

Combat potential critically reduced while Human.exe inactive: hibernation recommended.

It retreated to the tunnels and slept.

I woke up in the tunnels, just a little ways off from the entrance, my memories of the previous day surfacing quickly. Unpleasant. Apparently I couldn’t keep myself active indefinitely. I hadn’t noticed the problem before because I sometimes hibernated to conserve resources, but since the yellow-fur incident I had been operating almost continuously to absorb more details and plan my escape. Up until now I used extra blood flow and cell renewal to compensate, but apparently that wouldn’t work in the long run. Annoying, I finally get enough resources to operate continuously and it turns out there is a hard limit.

But Maggie’s should be open now! I suddenly realized.

I quickly ascended to the surface and made my way to the diner. When I entered the diner was a lot more crowded, and a different drone dressed similarly to Maggie introduced itself before seating me at the counter this time. When I asked where Maggie was the ‘waitress’ told me that Maggie was cooking in the back and didn’t normally deal directly with ‘customers’. It gave me a ‘menu’ with lots of symbols and thanks to the pictures it wasn’t hard to find what I wanted. Between what I had saved and what I pulled off the drones I had enough for the listed prices and I ordered myself another tofu burger.

While I waited I casually observed the busy diner, several of the drones eating were combat drones and I avoided staring too long (this was apparently ‘rude’), and in a corner was a large screen displaying talking drones. No sound came from them, but underneath scrolling symbols went by.

“…as been confirmed, Friday will be the last day of school before they shutdown for the summer. Fortress City officials would like to remind all citizens to report suspicious occurrences to Central as soon as possible, as well as to wear identification armbands to facilitate police response. In other news…”

I was getting better with reading the symbols, but some of the words still escaped me. I didn’t know what Friday was, but I had seen Fortress City printed around often enough to realize it meant this particular giant hive structure that the drones and I were living in. Slowly I was learning which symbols corresponded with which words.

Eventually the ‘waitress’ came with my food, and I ate it as slowly as I could (though I couldn’t resist taking two packets of the drink mix to go with it). As I ate I heard a lot of drones talking about a variety of topics; C’s, cowls, capes, Hellion, villains, Central, “those damn armbands”, mutavus, Wandergheist, Turbo, heros, the bus explosion caused by the Merc yesterday, and a large amount of various other miscellaneous events. But the one that really dominated conversation was that ‘Odd Summer’ was starting. Apparently this was regarded as generally bad (mostly by the combat drones), however several drones seemed excited about the increased opportunity it would bring.

Once I was done eating I paid the ‘bill’ (I was really surprised that the norm is to pay afterwards) and began heading to Ashwood St.

I mulled over what I had overheard in the diner. Apparently this ‘Odd Summer’ was a period of time marked by uncertainty, which fit with why Jasper would deem it necessary to warn a young, inexperienced drone about it. I was impressed, he had warned me about it before the general drone population was informed. Even just walking along outside, nearly every conversation I overheard was at least mentioning it, if not dominated by it, whereas yesterday it had only been mentioned by drones sparingly. It seems Jasper knew his stuff.

I decided to not change my plans and continue to 512 Ashwood St. to seek a job. After seeing how much killing just two drones filled my mass, energy, and money reserves, I had questioned the necessity of seeking alternate ways to make money. But if what I heard in the diner was true, having a ‘stable job’ during the Odd Summer time period was an advantage, and there was a possibility of ‘food rationing’ and ‘food shortages’ neither of which I liked the sound of. Best to secure stable resources while I could.

My trip to Ashwood St. was less eventful than last time, but much more interesting. I noticed several of the physically modified drones (mostly combat models) wearing bands of yellow material around their upper arms, with a black symbol depicting a drone’s hand imprinted on the band. Maybe a faction indicator? But this change was too swift and widespread. More likely it had something to do with Odd Summer.

The other new thing was that every now and then I would see a drone wearing a face cover, usually just a simple dark covering over the eyes. These I saw mostly around the multi-level structures near Ashwood St. and other drones gave them a wide berth.

Once, I saw a drone in full-coverings much like the Guardian loitering around an intersection. Its coverings were black with yellow highlights, and a full shell over its head. After standing around and turning its head as if looking for something it suddenly disappeared! No, wait, it just moved very very fast, I barely caught the blur of motion as it left, out of sight in moments.

Estimated threat: High.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

How it managed to move that fast was, of course, a mystery. Everything I knew about physical laws seemed to be wrong lately. If that drone attacked I wasn’t sure how to counter that kind of speed. At the very least the other drones hadn’t acted scared at its presence, merely curious, so hopefully it wasn’t a threat I’d have to deal with.

I continued walking while pondering countermeasures, up steps and over walkways, until I finally wound up in front of 512 Ashwood St. again.

There still weren’t any indicators that this building was special, or of what exactly a ‘job’ here might entail. But the entrance was unlocked when I pushed on the door handle.

Inside was a mostly empty room with white walls and a polished floor made of stone tiles. At the back of the room was a set of metal ‘stairs’ that spiraled into the level above and below. Along the back and side walls were several doors, most were closed, but one door to the right was propped open. The only other object was a large wooden counter in the middle of the room that twisted in a circle, leaving room for the one drone in the room to sit in a chair.

The drone in question was sitting with its feet up on the counter, its attention on a ‘smart phone’ it held. It was a physically modified drone, tough defensive scales around the neck and up the sides of the head that stopped at its short black hair, and its scaled hands sported sharp, hooked claws that it nevertheless adeptly used to tap at the phone. Along with its natural biological modifications, it also sported many artificial modifications such as inscribed skin symbols and (shudder) metal loops embedded in its ears and nose. As it was the only drone here I walked up to ask it directions.

“Is this-“

“You look lost. The nearest high school is quite a few blocks from here. Take a right when you exit and keep walking.”

…odd.

“Is this 512 Ashwood St.?”

The drone sighed, then turned its eyes to me. “Yes, this is 512 Ashwood St. What’s it to you?”

“I was told I could find a job here.”

“Mm hmm, and just who told you that?”

Hmm, Jasper had asked me not to tell who sent me. His goodwill was currently worth more than a possible job…

The drone sighed again. “It was that weasel Jasper right? Look brat, this isn’t a babysitting service, go back to-“

“Lily? Is that a prospective hire I hear you talking to?” said a new voice that came from the open door.

‘Lily’ grit its teeth and answered, “No Sandra, its just a lost kid.”

“Actually I am here for a job,” I replied directly to the new drone. This one seemed far more amiable.