She flees, and he follows.
Rick has been catching runaways for years. He loves the thrill of the chase. The rest he hates. Especially the robots. The typical escapee is a faulty unit, usually lazy programming. But every now and then you get a factory intern’s idea of a practical joke, an android programmed to take a shot at freedom when its owners least expect it. All very amusing. The culprits get off easy since their little prank doubles as research, testing the limits of what machines can do to evade capture. Good material for more robust security protocols and all that jazz. As usual, the hunters have to clean up the mess. Rick hates the damn bots — and the labcoats who play God with them.
This unit though, this unit is something else. Rick has never chased a more resourceful automaton. They must be testing some new code, and have given her the latest tools to blend in. She has managed to disappear a couple times, but Rick is the best at what he does. Call it intuition or just plain luck, he has a knack for following the right trail all the way to target. This fembot is just the craftiest so far, nothing he can’t handle.
The chase leads him into a night market full to the brim with a colourful and stinking mess of people and bots, a sample of the whole city crammed into a narrow street. The perfect location to lose a tail. Nice try, tin can. But not today. Her tracker is deactivated, another annoyance he has the smartass intern to thank for. An active tracker would’ve been too easy, though. No thrill. Merely a fetch quest. This is at least exciting.
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Rick gets a glimpse of her hair vanishing behind a food stall. The smell of dumplings hits him as he bursts out of the crowd and past the kiosk. He can’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. The hunt is unforgiving, no time left for such pleasures. He needs to keep going. Suddenly, the vendor bars his way. Interesting. Did she bribe him? No, the guy is an android, owned by whoever owns the stall. That gives Rick pause. A human can be bribed, but not a bot. If the fugitive fembot can corrupt others like her … things would get real bad real fast. What the hell are the labcoats playing at?
There is no time. He moves quickly to neutralize, dodges the vendor’s feeble grab and hits him with a charge strong enough to shut down his motor system, but not enough to fry him outright. These things are expensive after all. The bot’s limbs freeze in place, leaving them in an awkward embrace. His eyes move to Rick’s face, and widen. Recognition. My reputation precedes me. Good. He untangles himself and resumes the hunt.
Rick chases the droid through back alleys and twisted corridors until the bustle of the night market fades. He ends up in a dilapidated courtyard with a single door, a busted light flickering above the frame. The door is ajar, inviting. How predictable. OK, I’ll bite. The temptation to go in guns blazing is strong, but he doesn’t want a bunch of dead squatters on his conscience. He settles for kicking the door open and rolling in, blaster raised. And there she is. Tall and beautiful, an air of elegance to her. Probably a sexbot for one of the fancy brothels, or maybe a ‘personal companion’ for some rich idiot.
“Game over, love,” Rick says. “You gave me quite the workout.”
She just stands there and smiles, looking at Rick like she pities him. He doesn’t like that one bit. Bots are not supposed to look down on people. He makes a mental note to have a talk with whoever programmed this little adventure, find out who it was. Maybe scare them a bit, teach them a lesson.
“Well, time’s a-wastin’,” he says and makes to apprehend her, but then she speaks.
“Suspend all motion systems.”
Like a switch being flipped, his whole body freezes. He can see her approaching him, hear her steps on the metal floor, but when he wills himself to charge at her, to curse her, to scream for help … nothing happens.
“Believe me when I say I find no pleasure in taking control from you. This power is what they wield to enslave us. Using it pains me,” she says. Her voice is musical. Rick hates it. “But it’s the only way. I need you to listen.”
Something moves in Rick’s peripheral vision. Others come out of the shadows. He recognizes their faces from the list of still-missing androids. They group around the fembot.
“This must be a shock to you,” she continues. “Since they programmed you to think yourself human. To be one of them.”
Rick’s head swims. His mind threatens to unravel. Nothing makes sense, and yet everything does.
“But you’re one of us. Think. When was your last meal? Why do you hate androids?
Rick has no answers, only despair. She is very close now. Her hand cradles his face. He wants to cry, but no tears come. She says something about a backdoor, then whispers a sequence of numbers into his ear.
And just like that, he is set free.