To celebrate the release of the Federation Chronicles enjoy a preview of the book.
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Chapter 2
Quinton stepped outside but stayed close to the side of the
building so he could watch for the mechs.
“How do you know they’re hunting PMCs?” he asked.
“When they scanned the maintenance drone and detected the ESS,
they became hostile.”
The Energy Storage System—ESS— was a miniature reactor the size of
a fist. The low energy output of the leuridium core made it durable and
long-lasting, ideal for the data storage requirements of a PMC. The ESS had a
unique identifier that made it easy to detect. Quinton glanced down at the
agricultural bot body that contained his consciousness. He didn’t think the
robot’s chest could shield it from the mechs.
He looked up at thick, dreary clouds pressing on top of him and
felt as if he were staring at a tidal wave about to sweep him away in a violent
upheaval of destruction and doom. A bellowing rumble came from overhead.
Weather-worn buildings that were sagging under the weight of wet volcanic ash
lined the streets, fading into the misty fog.
Quinton moved to the other side of the street. Loud banging sounds
came from inside the nearby buildings, followed by screeches that came in rapid
succession as the mechs forced their way through a heavy door. The agricultural
unit was capable of highly acute sound sensitivity and depth perception,
probably meant for the delicate work of maintaining the exotic gardens that had
once been here.
He heard three distinct sound sources from various areas of the
building. The mechs weren’t trying to hide what they were doing.
He glanced around at the crusty brown ash that covered the
buildings and saw more fall from the sky in a sleety mix of snow. Peering
closely at the clusters of ash as they fell, he realized that the agricultural
unit’s optics were able to perceive each unique crystalline structure marred by
the particulates filling the air. Where was the ash coming from? The
agricultural unit must have had smell receptors, but he was glad they weren’t
working. Atmospheric readings on his internal heads-up display showed high levels
of sulfur. Skipping the smell of rotting decay was perfectly fine with Quinton.
“I need to know what you plan to do,” Radek said.
The VI’s question startled him out of his thoughts because Radek
was just a voice. Although there was a highlighted section of his HUD that
flashed when Radek spoke, it was still off-putting. Quinton checked the
agricultural unit’s systems to see what was available.
“Radek, update preferences for our normal interactions to require
the use of a holographic representation.”
A small sphere that was a semi-transparent silver hovered in the
air a few feet away from Quinton’s head. “System preferences have been
updated.”
That was better.
“I wonder if we have a case of mistaken identity,” Quinton said.
“Maybe the security mechs just detected a power signature that’s not in their
data repositories. Given how things look around here, they’re probably still
following some kind of latent security protocol. You said they hunted you for
days, but did you see any people here? Is there anyone we can go to for help?”
Quinton asked.
“There were very few online systems, and no life signs were
detected. I was lucky to find this agricultural unit.”
Quinton’s gaze flicked upward in irritation. He was about as far
away from what he considered “fortunate” as he could get. He was sure the VI
assistants that were part of his PMC were working overtime, managing the
interface between him and the machine he was stuck in, but why belabor the
point that his current form was the best the VI could find? Radek was just the
manifestation of multiple VIs that were part of the PMC.
Quinton had limited access to his memories, but now that
everything was online, he remembered going through extensive training before
his consciousness was uploaded into an ESS, even if it wasn’t the ESS
that was in this specific bot. He couldn’t recall the actual memories of his
training, but the skills were there, and the link that the VIs were associating
with hinged on the fact that Quinton had been trained. It was supposed to set
him at ease so he could focus, but it just brought attention to the fact that
he wasn’t anywhere he’d expected to be, which meant that something had gone
utterly wrong. Without complete access to his memories, how was he supposed to
come up with a solution? He was stumbling in the dark, but he had his training.
The possibility of a partial upload had always existed, as well as a chance
that the unit the ESS was installed in would have limited capacity, which was
what Quinton was dealing with thanks to Radek inserting him into this
garden-variety robot.
“It was the only unit available, and it doesn’t quite meet the
minimum requirements for a PMC,” Radek said, making Quinton wonder if the VI could
read his thoughts.
Quinton accessed the scan data from Radek’s encounter with the
mechs. They were accurately identified as Veris
Hunter Model Mechs, but that was just the base unit. They could represent any
number of mech types, but they all had strict protocols for preserving human
life, and an ESS housing a PMC qualified as a living being. These mechs
shouldn’t harm him, unless they were military mechs, in which case the
restrictions on human life could be rescinded. If Quinton was identified as the
enemy, they would attack. Radek’s attempted communication with them had likely
been interpreted as just another drone delivery system, which was different
from someone who was actually alive.
He had to find out if the mechs would hunt him. If he tried to
sneak away and was detected, there was very little chance of him being able to
reason with them. He walked out to the middle of the street and shouted,
“Hello!”
The glowing holographic sphere bobbed up and down to get his
attention. “I must advise against this. Hostiles in the area,” Radek warned.
“Noted. Now stop distracting me,” Quinton replied.
The orb disappeared. VIs helped the PMC interact and cope with
being in another form other than a human host. To help facilitate this
connection, they were required to act human, but they were machines. Radek was
a virtual intelligence, and sometimes they just got things wrong.
Three mechs emerged onto the street a short distance from where
Quinton stood. They had extremely long arms that protruded from their stocky
wedge-shaped main bodies. Long legs connected to a black-armored pelvis. They’d
probably been designed to run at high speeds, using all of their limbs. Serial
numbers for each mech appeared on Quinton’s HUD, which were transferred as some
kind of default broadcast. This was encouraging because they might listen to
him. But what struck him as odd was just how old the mechs looked. The orange
stripes along their torsos and down their arms were faded and looked to have
been scraped off in several areas. They must’ve been bright when the mechs were
in service. He had no idea how long these mechs had been running around. How
could they still have power? The fact that they did indicated that there must
be a charging station in service nearby.
The three mechs regarded Quinton for a few moments, and he raised
his arms to the side in a non-threatening gesture of compliance. The mechs
squatted lower in an aggressive posture.
“Wait a minute,” he blurted, his voice going high. “I’m not a
danger to you. My name is Quinton Aldren, and I’m a Personality Matrix
Construct temporarily stored in this agricultural unit. I need help.
Transferring my identification now.”
A beam of light came from one of the mechs and highlighted an area
on Quinton’s chest for a few seconds before going out. The three mechs remained
motionless, and Quinton was beginning to agree with Radek that this was a bad
idea. He tried opening a comlink to the three mechs, thinking that perhaps they
had suffered some kind of damage and were attempting to communicate with him.
They weren’t.
The mechs shared a data communication session, which Quinton was
able to decipher because they weren’t using any security protocols.
. . . Target hostile:
negative.
ESS power signature confirmed.
Must retrieve.
The three Veris mechs began striding
toward him. Each step they took seemed to impact the ash-laden ground, and
Quinton stepped back.
“Wait a second. I’ll go with you,” Quinton said.
. . . Agricultural unit
loss is acceptable.
Retrieve ESS for disposal.
Quinton felt a wave of panic surge through him. They wanted the
ESS. What did they want with the ESS? They were going to . . .
They were charging toward him now.
I hope you enjoyed this preview, you can continue the adventure by pre-ordering Acheron Inheritance.
The button above should work, but just in case it doesn't here is a link to the book.
Acheron Inheritance – Federation Chronicles Book 1
Unitil next time.
Thank you for reading.
~Ken Lozito
