This story has a robot!
 

We had this Artificial Organism working with us in developing the brain, he looked normal enough-a purple shirt, black pants, two Prehensile orb-jointed tentaclamps for interaction and a head that was human but off with some ocular and auditory circuits jutting here and there.

We called him Saunter.

He was really quiet, not purposefully--he was a low grade lab assistant model, but because his charging station was state of the art. Any grease or dust that he gathered was removed every time he took a standby period. It was like a big white clean pod and he looked so damn out of place in it. Clunky and with this distant look on his face.
The guy in charge of cleaning the cleaner was this fat college kid we'd recruited. He was dumb as a rock and we figured that he couldn't do any harm scrubbing away his hours. The problem was that his clearance had been 5-A, more or less allowing him to go wherever the hell he wanted. So when Saunter, Grace and I were trying to put together this Superbrain, he was peeking at gene experiments and opening the sealed containers for snacks. It was near quitting time when he found the harpoons.


See, the hallways of the complex are lined with Servers and Software managers to cope with the necessary computing power, and because a simple manual shutdown system was too risky an electronic harpoon cannon had been developed. It was simple enough--fire it into any of the bigger Servers and it would trigger a shutdown through a surge protector system, only leaving basic lighting, door control and Bot-charge systems active. We never had to use it because the whole place was just that efficient and the containing units typically sat unused except for bi monthly cleanup.

So on that particular Friday afternoon the kid decided to take out the unwieldy multibarreled anti automaton weapon and bring it into the single most important computing center in the whole damn complex.
Saunter was aware of him before he announced himself, he turned from his work looking calm, and immediately switched into his caution mode. A low buzzing would be heard in our headsets, and his headgear whirred. Grace and I turned, irritated at the tone to see the kid brandishing the harpoons with a stupid-self satisfied grin on his face. Saunter wasted no time moving toward him to take it, it was in his programming, when the kid speedily walked around him and presented his prize to us.
"Wuzzis do?" He said.
Saunter replied: "It is a HIGH YIELD anti electronics Government weapon construct. It is for extreme emergency purposes only."
"Yeaa...but whatzit doo?" the kid droned.
""It is a HIGH YIELD anti electronics Government weapon construct. It is for extreme emergency purposes only." Said Saunter, bless him.
"Howzit werk?"
"It is a HIGH YIELD anti electronics Government weapon-"The kid turned away from Saunter and started moaning at us.
"D'you need me t'use it guys?" He grinned.
Saunter dashed forward and tried to take it from him, and then everything went to hell.

The kid threw him off, looking bewildered. The security system detected the violent movement and a small platoon of security was already thumping down the hall.
"Return the construct." Saunter ordered over the klaxxon.
"Hey! No!" the kid gripped the weapon like a mother with her baby, I stepped forward to take it, only to be met with a blunt part of the weapon hitting me upside the head, I fell down-seeing the kid moving backwards as security pooled into the room.
Shouts were exchanged, the kid was frightened and threatened, and before I realized it he had fired the goddamn thing into a pool of people.
Saunter was attempting to communicate with them as three charged bolts thumped into his torso. The machinery on his head smoked as shots were fired at the kid. He fumbled it as his upper arm was hit and his shoulder blossomed with red. Grace was off to the side in shock or something when the screaming started.

At first I thought it was Grace or the kid, maybe one of the Guards, but as I turned my head I already knew it was Saunter.
He was in apparent agony. The Control centers for his body sputtered as the plastic on his face smoldered. The sound came from a speaker on the side of his head, an emergency tone. It sounded like an impaled infant. Apparently the shock had activated every single Danger part of his body; it was like being pressed with a cattle brand on all of your joints at once. Some idiot fired at him, attempting to shut him up. His face ignited and pools of plastic began visibly bubbling and blackening. He jolted, completely blind, around the room. The Harpoons delivered another shock; apparently to make sure he shut down. He didn't. The vocalizers in his throat picked up and his lower jaw hung down tearing half of his face off. He stepped forward, and saw the kid. The malice that his twitching, smoldering body held for that poor bastard was so strong you could see it. He stepped towards the kid, pulled the harpoon gun out of his hands. The kid was transfixed, Saunter turned the barrel on him, and unloaded Five of the goddamn spikes across his body. The way his steel arms were twitching, it seemed like he might have accidentally pulled the trigger, and as they jumped with each bolt-smattering the things across the kids arms, legs and torso, you could believe it.

Until he hit the charge.

The kid was dead instantly, but he burnt and his limbs flew and his skin charred. The security unloaded everything they had into Saunter, tearing apart the faceplate on his chest. He limply stood before a final bullet sent him crashing through the window into the fog below.

-End chapter or whatever. My back hurts.

like i said before. good.

i didnt want Saunter to 'die'.

I never read things like this posted on the internet, but I am actually looking forward to seeing where this goes. Not a bad job at all, keep it going.

A week later, the company commissioned us to look for Saunter. It wasn't personal-most people would want to keep their distance from Homocidal Robots, but we could lose our jobs if we didn't look. There was one issue with looking for him, though; he'd fallen out of a window fifteen stories up, down into the trash abyss, an enormous chasm filled with slowly rotting machine carcasses that had acid pumped in to wash them away. The process could take years and was responsible for several human deaths. Saunter had fallen from such a distance that he could be anywhere or everywhere if he had hit an acid pool.
Grace, one of the Sec-Troopers and I all packed into a small scout airship and started out. Only two of us would come back up.

We made our way down through the murky violet haze that hung over the chasm. It was more like a thick fog than cloud, and a dull thumping could be heard from the purifier pods that hung in the air, sifting apart the haze needlessly. Eventually we began seeing the points of what appeard to by Radio towers, this signified that we were roughly 700 meters from the ground. Several of the towers had the impaled chassis' of robots clinging to them. Several appeared to have been bent by impact. The place was a tomb, an all pervading fucking graveyard, seeping into the land around it. A dull light flashed below as our ship neared the floor. I thought about the kids' autopsy.

His skin had been literally blackened, his limbs useless, but it revealed that his heart was still faintly, impossibly, pumping blood through him. He wasn't conscious, his body wasn't even alive, but somehow the blood kept flowing and his brain kept flickering. He was stuck in the most meaningless of existences, unable to interact or create. Only capable of repeating the same functions until his hardened shell of a body finally gave out. He was a vegetable. A machine. A robot.

We landed. A spindly robot with an unneeded filtration mask crept towards the ship. It shared some sort of banter with our guard and the door opened and even with the gas mask and airtight suit, somehow, the stench hit me. Decay. Age. The iron filled bloodlike aroma of the eponymous acids. We worked our way forward into a small shack. It looked more like an enormous cinderblock that someone had dropped from above the way it sunk into the goop. The door was sucked open and my chest clenched. Grace yelped and the Security trooper made a move to his gun. Saunter stared back at us ominously.

the kid ends up just like a robot. very dark and ironic, considering what he did.

I didn't intend to do that, but thought it would be more interesting than the 'legal proceedings following fat idiot's murder' chapter.

I should consult BM on this being even remotely possible.

i have moments like that, where you have a flash of slight plot line twists. i usually add them, seeing as half the time they're better than what i originally had planned.

BM has a fucking bigger brain than me.

No, he doesn't. He just has more neurons. He also has more than me. I wish I was that smart at his age. I blame it on my father. He dropped me on my head on a hard floor when I was a little one.

Kastere, I just read the rest. Very well written. As I said, I'm not one to read such things on the internet, but I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The trooper unloaded three rounds into Saunter. He didn't react. The Robot started shouting, or turning up its volume or whatever and the Trooper put down the gun. The perforated husk tumbled forward.
"Holy shit." Was all I could say.
It was Saunter's body, but it was empty. Nothing inside but air. There were odd chunks of plastic missing from his face where his skeleton had been removed and the glow from his eye came from a bundle of LED's crammed into it. They were plugged into an ancient alkaline battery.
'That is what I was telling you.' The waste bot explained. 'This was found outside of the control center. It had been tied with pegs to keep it standing. We don't know who did it.'
Small trails of recent welding could be seen.
"Look at his arms." Grace said. "There's no way..."
"What?" The trooper snapped.
"It looks like he cut himself open." She answered despondently.
"That doesn't make any sense. He can't damage himself, he can't even understand the concept of self-inflicted wounds. He's programmed to shut down when the idea even presents itself!" I said, more to myself than anyone.

Understand that beyond being made of steel, Saunter was of an incredibly fragile build. His 'skeleton' didn't even properly contain his various 'organs'. His chest Chamber revealed that some of the Circuit mounts had been torn out. , meaning that unless he'd made some kind of containment for them, he was either carrying around a pile of Vital circuity or dead .

Then there was this air. The Waste-Bot had a denser construct, but Saunter's body was fragile and would oxidize in open air if left too long. There was no way that he wasn't just another crumbling husk down here.
"Were there footste-" I began, but Grace and the Trooper were looking around, surprised.
The Waste Robot was gone. His mushy footsteps led away into the dark.
"Ah, shit." The trooper said. "Shit, shit, SHIT."
"We have to find him." Grace said.
"No, we need to get on the Radio and call for help." The Trooper grumbled.
"With what?" Grace said. "This place doesn't have a fucking radio. That 'bot is the radio.
"Let's just leave. We can come back with more people later." I suggested.
"The ship's only got enough fuel to carry us back halfway. The goddamn robot was supposed to refuel it before this shit showed up. He pointed at Saunter.
"We don't have much of a choice, do we?" Grace said, filled with some new found courage. She walked out of the shack with a Lamp.
"Grace! Come on, let's figure this out!" I desperately yelled.
"We don't have any choice." The Trooper growled.
I was left alone.
I waited a beat, then followed after them.

The lamp didn't light much. Just enough not for me to trip over protruding metal in the rotten ground.
I caught up with the Trooper. He nodded at me and we continued on.
"Where's Grace?" I stupidly asked.
"She must've ran ahead of us, man. I keep seeing her light every now and then but all I got is footsteps now." He answered.
We jogged on, following the sets of footsteps absentmindedly. Eventually we came to a close collection of junk that the steps wound around sporadically. I drifted behind the Trooper as the passages narrowed. We turned a final corner and crept into a dully lit area the size of a football field. Grace was ahead of us, apparently speaking with the Robot.
It just wandered away to work. This must be the fuel depot. I thought.
I looked around the place as best I could. There were remnants of some sort of wall around the sides, with plates of sheet metal planted to hold it together.
On top, there were a collection of dull, curved rods. I stared at one, trying to discern what it was when it started to glow.
"What is this?" The Trooper said. The Lights flashed, and for a moment we were blind. A shadow was cast over us as someone stepped in front of one. I couldn't tell who it was.
"SAUNTER!?" I heard Grace shout. "SAUNTER, IS THAT YOU!?"
The figure stepped back as an amplified sound played over an unseen speaker. It was a Tone, the kind that the 'bots used. It actually sounded old. Like someone had trapped a yell in a bubble and popped it. There was a grating sound along with it, something separate but still amplified. I heard machinery chugging nearby. Grace looked terrified, the Waste robot sat stock still.
"That's an activation tone." The trooper said. "It switches all machinery in an area from On to Off or otherwise." He sounded like he was quoting something. The sound cut, but the machinery still chugged.
The Trooper moved forward to get Grace. As if on cue, a large set of pistons shot out of the wall, instantly crushing The Waste Robot. Grace screamed and jumped back as a second set rushed forward, catching her right arm and pulverizing it. She screamed louder, immediately silenced by the third pistons. They connected with a low gong. I could still hear Grace screaming, muted.
As the second and third pistons came apart, a grate slid out of the wall in front of us.
The third was hollow, that much I could tell, as Grace fell out of it.
"Oh, god. Oh...." The Trooper vomited.
Her legs had been cleanly cut off, along with her right arm. She was still screaming. The lights above us faded and all that we could see was her Lamp, barely illuminating her prone, mutilated body. She stopped screaming, Unconscious. I heard the Trooper starting to move away. I turned my head backwards just as her body was pulled into the darkness. Something lifted her lamp high and turned it off.
I ran.

the scene with Grace and the pistons was very graphic.
its quite a skill to be able to add so much detail without bogging it down.

Really? I thought I was putting in too much detail with the pistons.

nah, it flowed well. i hate it when people try to make a scene disgusting or horrific by describing the scene in excrutiating detail, it just gets fucking boring.

Sorry for the sort of gap between this and the next part. I work at peak efficiency with the Ritalin pumping around but once it stops I'm more apathetic and prone to quit before I start.
I have a few ideas as to how I want to end this and what I want to introduce along the way, including small notes I've made in my notebook. Unfortunately I'm kind of lost on what to do along the way. I'd like some feedback on some of these ideas, but be aware that it may spoil a bit of the story for you. If you want to tell me what you think of them or just see how vastly imaginative and self important I am feel free to shoot me a PM.

Wow, I actually can see that being a film its so detailed. I like how its 1st person, there's not many around like this. Good work.

EDIT: NOW IT'S 4AM WHY DO YOU FUCKERS DO THIS TO ME ARRGRHGH

It was getting cold. Really cold. I could only imagine How Grace must feel....
No. Don't think about grace. Think about running and the safehouse and getting out of here and never coming back.
The Guard was out of sight and I was running mostly blind. I'd smashed my lantern on some jutting meal and it kept flickering. I couldn't tell if I was being chased or the shadows and noise were all just me.
I rounded a corner to be greeted by the far off site of the Airship and the small shack. I ran as fast as I could, tearing ass all across the lot when a whining strained sound erupted into the air. I screamed, stumbled, and somersaulted trying to keep my momentum. Something shot through the air in front of me, something that had recently been pulverized.
A cold, faint glow stared at me from the husk of the Caretaker robot. I sprinted over it as thumping footsteps pounded behind me. The guard broke cover from behind the airship and made for the shack, I dove, right as he heaved the door shut.
We crouched, completely silent for a few seconds. He smacked several large red buttons and security shutters and reinforcement plates snaked across the door and window.
He sunk to the floor, exhausted.
"You...got...lost?" He panted.
"Yeah..."
"Airship...not enough fuel...no radio..." he broke off, desperately thinking of a way to get us out.
"Grace said something about...tha-that supervisor ruh-robot. She said it had a radio..." I tried to sound optimistic.
"S'no good...that thing's back at...at whatever the fuck that thing was. Oh, god..." he put his hands up to his face.
I tried asking him if he saw what threw the caretaker but he wouldn't respond, after awhile I realized he was asleep. I tried to close my eyes but kept being greeted by the silhouette of whatever was back at those piston things.


Whatever had been after us had gone. I didn't hear it, I guess. The guard was awake long before me, fiddling with the tools the shack had.
"Shit! God damn it!" I woke up to.
He'd opened the fridge. The freezing cartridges had long since rotted out, leaving the whole thing unusable. the food had apparently all gone bad. Air sealed meals bore puncture marks in all the wrong places.
The tools were all dusty, completely unusable. At one point a screwdriver just powdered away. There were missing cables and wrenches, too.
"Did someone raid this shithole, or what?" the guard muttered.
After a lot of pacing he succumbed to his boredom or desperation and decided to open the security locks.
He slid the panel open to find all of them torn from their sockets.

nice. realistic dialogue too.

good work.

DELICIOUS RITALIN

Here goes.

Right now.

HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGH

GO STORY

GO

COME ON

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHSTRRRRYURRRRRRGH.

The Guard Slumps in the corner, mortified. I don't say a word.
Time passes. I check my watch only to see it was smashed. The clock on the wall uses clockwork and dead bugs have rendered the gears immovable.
After awhile, I decide to take a look outside.
With some effort, we're able to shift the security shutters slightly. A pale, bright light creeps under our fingers.
"What the hell?" The guard says.
The air seems to be clear...somehow. The light isn't supposed to shine through this well.
A low clomping drifts through the walls.
"Look! Look under! See what it is!" He holds the shutter open while I peer out.
The slat is so thin that I can barely make out the shape slowly moving past the shack. It stops, seems to sink into the junk, and a loud rattling emanates in the air.
"I think it's looking at the ship." I say.
The guard pushes me away from the slat and lets it go. It slams shut loudly.
"What the he-" I start, but he's already at the door, kicking and punching it. It doesn't budge.
"Stop, stop! Let me see the switches." I shout.
I check the circuit panel. There are 3 sets of switches missing, well, the switches. It's a pretty simple circuit, like you could just use...
I hurry over to the fridge, checking the panel that the freezing cartridges should have been under and tearing some of the exposed wiring free.
Using the rubber handle of an ancient wrench, I place it in the panel and complete the circuit. The door makes a loud clunk and seems to loosen.
The guard is two steps ahead of me, pulling it open and temporarily blinding us with the sudden glare of an overcast sky.
My eyes adjust to see a large robot, maybe ten feet tall, staring back at us with a cyclopean orange eye. It's standing over at the heap of metal that was the caretaker, with a trail seeming to suggest it dragged it into the clearing. It shifts its gaze to the wall beside us, following it, I see it's staring at saunters propped up shell. The large robot tromps over, extends a hand and picks up the body. It seems like he's just throwing it behind him when a loud clunk seems to emanate from his back.
"Hey!" The guard flops his arms trying to get its attention. "Help!".
The titanic robot stops for a second at his second words, and shifts his body back to us.
"ASSIST." It exclaims. A small speaker on the right side of its face produces the sound.
"ASSIST." It repeats.
It dawns on me that this robot is incredibly old.
"It's not saying, it's asking." I whisper.
"Uh...Yes..." The guard says.
"ESCORT. PRIORITY. SHIIIFT." It seems to drag out its last word.
Turning to no direction in particular, it starts clomping its way toward one of the paths. It extends its arm to the side, and the hand seems to release with some pressure at the caretaker. Dragging it back over the dirt and into an enormous wicker basket on the Robots back. Above the basked the words 'Altar Boy' are visible in chrome. It stomps away. The guard and I follow, dumbfounded.

EDIT: Sorry if this seems kind of short.

these robots from different era's interest me. i can imagine that the Altar Boy robot would have looked quite intimidating.

Not really.

ah. i got the wrong end of the stick with it being tall. i see now.

Here's the Lego Toy that the entire story spawned from.

did you add the burns before or after you thought of the story concept?

Before. Same with the nails.

It was just sitting on my bedshelf and got me thinking.

The "Altar Boy" led us through a sporadic network of paths and tunnels around and under the junk. The Guard and I lost our sense of direction quickly and stuck close to the robot. We spoke little. After getting a few looks at our Titanic guide, I concluded that he was definitely a custom job. He was an old (old, old, OLD) shipping/construction assistance robot, but those never had the ability to shoot their hands across clearings. His hands also had an odd split in the middle, giving them the ability to turn into simple crab claws. Weirder still was the basket he was lugging around; apart from Saunter and the Crushed assistance robot corpse there were a lot of parts packed below them. A large, dusty Medical casket sat at an odd angle near the top, with some radio poles and satellite dishes crumpled together. The guard pointed out various utilities and weapon parts scattered here and there, and seemed to get a little excited when he spotted some riot gear.
Suddenly, The Altar Boy stopped midstep and focused on a junkpile, tromping over to examine it closely. He began shoveling through it, focused. We stood clear and watched with interest as he unearthed a limp steel body. With care, he placed it on the ground. his right hand split open and weathered steel rod with a bearing on the end sprung out. With automatic precision, he placed it on the back right-side of the seemingly dead robot's neck, and jolted it to life. Immediately stepping clear, The Altar Boy watched as the robot picked itself up.
Its hands are stained with reddish crust. I thought.
It looked around, taking in the surroundings.
Its head has dents.
It stopped on The Guard and I, its attention focused. The previously dully lit eyes seemed to gain some brightness as it stared.
This thing is down here for a reason.
It charged, but before I could flinch Altar Boy had it by the torso, crushing it like a beetle as damage vocalizers picked up. The Guard and I covered our ears at the screeching sound. The stench of aging pneumatic fluid hit the air as it gushed out, a light-gray liquid seeped between TAB's fingers. Without hesitation, he tore the small robot's head off and crushed it, dropping the thrashing, headless torso onto the ground and stomping on it. He continued on the path we'd been walking, barely acknowledging us.
The guard and I exchanged glances, standing still. Right before he walked out of site, our enormous savior bellowed. "ASSIST 49. ESCORT 50 13 10." We followed, afraid of our own shadows.

i liked it when TAB destroyed the other robot, i could imagine smelling the pneumatic fluid.

i certainly like this AB robot.

"God damn it, just tell us how to get through!"
We'd arrived at what seemed to be the end of the Gorge, or somewhere close to it. It seemed like the air purifiers worked properly here, giving as a clearer view of the sky. The dull purple haze had given way to a thin fog, and TAB had led us to what I assumed was a toll-booth.
The Guard was not pleased.
Enormous piles of garbage--broken bottles, razor-wire, fences made of sharpened logs and outright shrapnel composed them, lined them, and fortified what I was ppretty sure was a toll booth.
TAB stood silently, observing to the best of his ability. The incident with our trashed-attacker almost forgotten in place of our newest crisis.
Something was following us.
It was sticking close, really close, and capable of moving through the garbage almost soundlessly. We first noticed it as what looked like an old, round street light sticking out of the trash, seemingly following our movement, glowing a dull green. When we turned to look at The Altar Boy to see his reaction, he didn't acknowledge it and kept trudging along. When we turned to look back it was an outright different light. The Guard said he kept seeing movement when he pulled his visor down-little twitches in the trash, but keeping in pace with us. We assumed it was just some yard animal when we started seeing hands.
Sticking out of the ground at, well, arms length, was a generic robot arm. It had been recently placed; intravenous pneumatic goo pooled out of it and some oil stains dotted the ground indicating it had apparently been shaken. We steered clear. Several minutes later another, this time missing the index finger. As we moved, they kept losing fingers. When it had gotten down to three two had been placed-one missing four and the other missing three fingers. These seemed older. The Guard told me to stay way from the walls in case we were attacked. After the two fingered hand (just a claw) passed we kept expecting an ambush...but what we got was a toll gate. The gate itself was very wide, at least 7 meters. It was shaped like a meat cleaver, complete with a hole on the top right, although that seemed to be to keep it locked in place via a large pole hung through to something on the other side. The booth was more of an outhouse, a decrepit ruskbucket of a robot sitting there, ticket counter style, deactivated. He was attached-via wiring-to a large, gasoline powered generator, and beside that was what appeared to be an ancient coin-operated gasoline pump.
Neither of us had a quarter.
"For christ's sake! What does it take to move this fucking thing?!"
I wasn't sure if he meant TAB or the gate. Maybe both. Either way, we started digging around for anything to substitute as a quarter. We were getting fed up when it we noticed the Booth-robot was covering a pile of small change. It seemed like a sick joke when we discovered a single quarter. The guard slid it into the machine and told it to "Get moving before I shoot you in the face."
It didn't budge.
"We're supposed to manually pump it." I said. "Grab that thing sticking out of the side."
He turned on me, hungry, dehydrated, and fed up. "I've been doing all the work, asshole, and you got us into this mess, with your fuckin' robot." He trailed off, muttering.
Before I could think, I said: "Maybe if you weren't a trigger happy moron I wouldn't have to chase after it."
"Oh." He responded. "That's how it is, huh? I save your ass from whatever is in this fucking nightmare...pit and you blame me, or hell, one of the other Guards for shooting the thing? Tell me, do you even know my name? Did you listen to your briefing, Nick, or did you just worry about how da big bad scary robot might get you?"
Exasperated, I tried my best to ignore him, and had the generator adequately fueled in less than a minute. Strolling over to the robot, who I assumed had become active, I waited to be called let through.
It didn't move.
I waited a moment, trying to get a good look at it. It was perfectly still. Aside form the generator chugging, nothing had changed.
I turned to face The guard, and a loud voice crackled behind me.
"Well, do you want to go through?"
I swung to face the robot. One of its hands had moved to a lever, but otherwise it appeared unchanged.
"Uh...Yes." I attempted.
"How many?"
"Two."
"No, how many Non-organics."
"Uhh..."
"Robots, Industrial robots, military robots, Portable Artificial intelligences, life-support droids, medical assitance modules and cyborgs. How many?
"One."
"Name?"
"Oh, uh Nick O-" "Not your ruddy name" He interrupted. "The robot. And class."
"Oh...Um, The Altar Boy? and, uh...Industrial." I was getting flustered.
For the first time, the booth-robot's head moved, a joint in the neck shifting to let it look outside. It held its gaze with The Altar Boy for a second, and cranked the lever.
Sure enough, the gate slowly rose out of our way. We started through it when the Robot called after us, TAB kept walking.
"You're gonna run into another gate up ahead, this one will have Organics. I suggest you declare any weapons you're carrying before-" His voice shifted to the Guard's "I shoot you in the face." His voice went back to normal. "Are we clear?"
"Uh...Yes. Definitely."
"Good, now, after that, you'll be on the outskirts of the Settlement. You'll come to a place labeled the Outer Wall Frigate. Do not stay there unless you plan to plan to spend a long time. After that you should reach the Foothills. At the next gate you can get some water. You'll need it."
We shuffled away, glad to know there was some light at the end of the tunnel.
"Hey, so what is your na-" I began.
The Guard picked up his pace away from me.

nice chapter. the toll gate scene was good.

for some reason i liked that toll gate robot.

I thought making an outright gas powered robot would've been cool, but tweaked it a little.

Also, spot the hidden reference in his last bit of advice.

It took us hours. Rolling hills and a twisting, relentless path. We spoke little, the guard keeping a steady pace ahead. We saw signs of civilization; the garbage was fenced away from the road, patchwork signs saying 'Welcome to C.C.C.S.' popping up here and there. Old, worn or demolished gates occasionally appeared, and we could see others several hundred feet to the side, all abandoned, all rusted and falling apart.
We finally found the gate the booth-robot had told us about, it was late afternoon. We came up over a hill and there it was, large, green, fortified. A taller tower on the left side, apparently for spotting bedragled, miserable city folk.
We were approached by a young man wearing cobbled together military garb.
"Jesus christ, you look like you fell in the recycling pools!" He shouted jubilantly.
Another, larger man came out.
"What we got?" He shouted.
"We got Tab and two guys who need a drink. Oh, shit, either a' you got any guns?" The first muttered to us.
The guard presented his weapon to the man. He stared at it.
"Uh...okay. You keep that" He said, pushing it away. "We just needed to know you have it."
The larger man made gave a glance at The Altar Boy's backpack and said. "Tab! Get through the security gate. We need to make sure you don't got any bombs inside of that thing."
'Tab' lumbered off. We were led inside by the younger of the two.
"We got a report around Ten last night of gunfire, that you?"
"Yeah." Said the guard.
"What were you shooting at?" His tone shifted, not so light any more.
"We're here looking for a rogue lab robot. The security station had what looked like its corpse outside, I reacted." Continued the guard.
"And was it?"
"No. It was just its chassis. We were supposed to cooperate with with a security station drone, but it went off on its own. Long story short, it's dead, the other scientist that came with us is seriously injured or more likely..." He shot me a look. "dead."
A crackle came over a rotten speaker on the wall.
"Lennox, come to the scanner station immediately. We got a situation."
Lennox nodded at us, and said "Stay here. Right in the room. Lockers have food and water." He was gone.
We sat around for a few minutes. Silent. I drank two bottles of water faster and messier than I'd like to admit.
"It's not your fault that grace is...gone." The guard said, sighing.
"You're fucking right it isn't." I responded, remembering what he said.
"We need to get a handle on this. We've found a resource station, but we need to find that robot, or at least some evidence of it being...offline." He continued.
"Yeah." I halfheartedly muttered.
"My name's Cotton. Eddie Cotton." He said, extending a hand.
I shook it.
I went to the fridge for more water when the sound of a a pair of boots rumbled down the hall.
"Come with me. Now." It was the older man.
We followed, clomping through the small building to what looked like a garage with a radio station built around it. Tab poked out of the top.
"Look at this." Lennox said to us, nodding at a small monitor.
There was a blue tinge to it the screen, but we could see what was undeniably a sealed medical casket.
Eddie shook his head. "What about it?"
"Look closer. Look at the face screen." Lennox said shortly.
We leaned in, focusing on it.
"My god." I said.
"Wha-?" And Eddie's face turned pale.

Eyes shut, breath methodically clouding the small glass window of the casket, was Grace.

had to re-read the last chapter, i'm glad for another update.

and sweet jesus, didn't expect that at the end.

I've got the whole thing planned out, actually. The next few chapters/pages are the only stumbling block.

Oddly, what motivated me to write this part up in the first place was some broken lightbulb sitting on the porch.

We stood in the small control booth staring at the screen, transfixed. Eddie rubbed his eyes. "You two know who that is?" The older man peered at us.
"S'the woman we came down here with. Grace." Eddie mumbled. He found a chair and filled it. "You have any idea she was in there?" Lennox said, eyes glued to the screen.
"No." We said.
"I think we have a situation of some severity." The older of the two said, manipulating a telescoping claw into the basket. TAB felt the weight shift and rotated to look at us.
"Critical element." The orange in his eye deepened.

short and sweet, and keeps dangling the carrot.

i think i may know what is going to happen next. actually, no. i don't think i do.
GOOD

"TAB, that is a seriously wounded woman sitting in a medical casket that won't last a three-day trek up the cliffs." The old guard grumbled. "Lennox, call Doc Weld, tell him it's an emergency and to bring the Aerial teevee if he can, otherwise whatever's fastest along with a medevac trailer and some extra cells for the casket; Bio and power. Just in case." He added, the looks on our faces betraying our worry.
"I'll hail the Frigate to let these two in, and finish checking TAB's stock. Avoid getting caught up with App if he's working with the Doc." He continued. Lennox bustled off.
He turned back to the monitor, entering several commands and disabling the claw. "This will do the rest of the scanning. I need you two to understand what's about to happen. Keep your questions to a minimum." We nodded.
"Alright." He cleared his throat, walking across the room and pulling a screen out of a wall, it illuminated, revealing a map. "This is us." He gestured to a red dot, bright against the blue surroundings. He pointed to a yellow line trailing out of frame. "This is the path to the Outer Wall Frigate. Have you ever been briefed on it?"
"No." I said.
"Minimally." Eddie reported.
"Figures. The Outer Wall Frigate is an independent entity of the Cliff Community Cooperative Settlements, and for good reason. The frigate itself is a city shifter, an old disaster response airship that was built for hauling as much as possible in a short time. You'll see it poking out of a valley up the foothills, that's how big it is."
He sighed, moving the map to a large green cube, smaller green dots pooled around it.
"The people will show you very little hospitality. I recommend you stay at most two days and go on your way. They're not above harassing outsiders just to make themselves feel better."
"Why are they so hostile?" I blurted.
"Hell, ask them. They just barely tolerate the towns and outposts around here, but boys from the Institute have been known to turn up goddamn maimed. Just be careful.
"Now, this man we have coming, Doctor Weld? He's not going to be here long, but you need to explain how and when your girl got her injuries as it'll help with the treatment. The man's patient, but that Med casket's not gonna last forever."

"We need to reach somewhere that can get us into contact with the W.A.T." Eddie said.
"Not below the Frequency Fairway." The old mad said, gesturing vaguely at the map.
"Sorry, the what?" I inquired.
"Later. There's Doc now. Must've been damn close." he said, pointing at a dust cloud coming towards us. "Go to the first floor, follow the white line on the wall. Lennox should be with you in a minute. Remember, necessary information only."
We hurried off.

looking forward to them passing through the Cliff Community Cooperative Settlements, not that i want them to get mauled or anything. have a feeling it'll be unnerving.

Well, the CCCS are basically the good guys. The huge junk pit they're in right now is flanked along the west wall by the cliff settlements, but the Outer Wall Frigate is a seperate settlement in the foothills leading to the Cliffs themselves.

Clear as mud.

"You two aren't ready for the trek."
Eddie and I were in an old supply room, sitting at a big steel table and answering questions that Doc Weld threw our way while he ran diagnostics on the medical casket. Lennox was typing something into a fold-out console on the wall.
The room was a sickly, deep green colour, not helping were the dying fluorescent lights hanging above.
"Well lookie heeeere." Weld said, gesturing at the open circuitry of the casket. Eddie shook his head. Weld seemed to smell it.
Clicking a soldering gun on, he detached a suppressor from the wiring. The sole red light that indicated the power flickered, then turned green. The other two blinked yellow and red.
"Huh." Said Eddie.
"T'wasn't running out of juice, it was saving it." The Doc reached an arm in and felt around. "A-ha! It's got a pair of extra energy cells rigged up in here. He brought his toolbag up, reached his other arm in and after some clicking and buzzing all three lights turned Blue. He turned to me.
"You do this, Nick?" We'd introduced ourselves as soon as he arrived. He was driving what looked like a water ski with wheels, a pair of fans folded at the side and the trailer folded into a cage at the back.
"No, we only found it a little over an hour ago." I said.
"The solder on that was fresh. Now, either your girl fixed this thing up with one hand and managed to close it, or she was lucky enough to find a miraculously jury rigged medical casket close enough for her to crawl to." He sat back, tenting his fingers over his eyes. Well, where I assume his eyes were; Doc Weld wore a patchwork pressurized suit, his head covered by a rectangular breathing mask, 'for th' Dust', he'd explained.
All of it was either dark cloth or stitched leather, with red and white Medical crosses visible from any angle. He kept several tool pouches on his legs and torso, and heaved a backpack with a rebriether and other machines bolted together. I didn't ask how he used the bathroom.
He propped his chin on a fist and extended the other at us, flat.
"I need the whole story. Lennox filled me in best he could over the radio, but details are important." He sat back, arms crossed.
Eddie and I told him, filling in parts the other missed, he didn't stop us until we started explaining the 'streetlight.' and whatever was following us in the garbage that he held up a hand and spoke.
"Did it ever make contact? Left the scrap?"
"No." Eddie said, "We assumed that the 'lights' we saw were for lighting the path when it gets dark, and it never made any appearances. I just saw the trash move when it shouldn't have."
Lennox turned to us, "We can't light the path at night, leads the mals and animals to us."
"Mals?" I said.
"Malfunctions, like the one that TAB 'found'." Weld said, "Lennox, I need to talk to App about this, he might be able to explain it." Lennox nodded.
"I didn't think it was back over here. The Scavs in the East spotted it about five days ago, they said it was heading for the East wall, a dull green light zipping past one of their night watchmen. Apparently it vandalized the Western Anom...Ano--the W.A.T. smelting plant." He gave Eddie and I a look. We exchanged glances. The smelting plant was a hot issue.
"What are you talking about? You know what was following us?" I asked.
"We can't tell you." Weld said, flatly.
"What?" Eddie said, tense.
"We can't tell you what it is." he repeated
"Why the fuck not?" Eddie stood up, fists clenched.
"Sit down, Ed." I said, nervous.
Lennox took a step forward, looking Eddie straight in the eye.
"We don't know what it is. We'd tell you if we knew. It probably wouldn't be an issue if we knew." He stepped back, Eddie sat down, cooling his hands on the table.
"Like he said, The thing's a mystery. It's smart. Not artificially, not programmed," Weld said, turning to me. "And not with any kind of tactical response protocol. It's way too big to have legal sentience, either."
Lennox sat down on a chair in his corner, arms crossed.
"It's never made this many appearances in such a short span." He said.
"How long has it been here?" I asked, degree kicking in.
"We have no idea. There are bigger issues in the C.C.C.S. and most people don't really know about it." Lennox replied.
"What does it do when people do encounter it?"
Weld sat forward. "At first, it was considered a Ben Mal--it would watch people. Just peer out and observe from far away. Not in full view, but just that green light. It was kind of a ghost story, rumors spread of it being a junk monster or somesuch to scare kids into line. This was far from here, on the higher cliffs. Sightings were sporadic."
He sighed, tenting his fingers over the lens on his mask.
"Then, it started moving down. Sightings turned into encounters when it got to the median ridges, which is damn far away from where the first sightings were made, it started attacking people." He sighed.
"Just out of the blue?" Eddie said.
"Just out of the blue. Our only theory why is the Frequency Fairway. It's a facility Northwest of here that pretty much keeps any communication not limited to a hard-line impossible. A scr-"
"That's illegal." Eddie interrupted, not directing it so much as stating it. Doc Weld shook his head. "It's not, and that's just a side effect. Originally it was a powerful telecomm tower, but over the years the wavelength equalization wore off, it turned into a gigantic scrambler, you could say, and we think that once whatever it is got close enough, it just got scrambled."
"Shouldn't it affect The Altar Boy? Or the other robots?" I said.
"It does and it doesn't. Most of the civilian and worker 'bots in the C.C.C.S. get a signal reset done when they arrive, so they just work around it. Even if they don't have it done immediately, it doesn't affect them for a long time, at which point they just report it and get the reset. But when you get a Mal sitting in the junk for god knows how long, then reactivate it, they've been listening to it for months or years on end and they immediately go through an incredibly large packet of raw information, usually that just makes them crash. It's a sensory overload, to be blunt." Doc Weld scratched the chin area of his mask.
"What happens if it doesn't overload them?" I asked.
"You saw it happen." Lennox said.
I let this sink in, Eddie leaned forward and said "So what happens when it attacks?"
Lennox and Weld exchanged glances.
"Well, it's...uh...it's weird." Lennox muttered. Doc shook his head.
"Out of curiosity, did this girl..." Weld said, snapping his fingers.
"Grace."
"Grace. Did she have any artificial limbs? automated arm or leg?" He leaned on a hand, sounding weary.
"Uh, no. She couldn't work at the W.A.T. if she did." I said.
"Why not?" Weld continued.
"It's a safety concern. When you have a bunch of robots sifting through information through tones or wireless, the nervous simulations in a bionic limb cause splits in the data. They have a habit of matching wavelengths momentarily so the message is garbled." I said, paraphrasing.
It was also a vindictive business practice. Bio-amps weren't a strong point in the W.A.T. product line, so superior brands were often used. Having someone in the lab with a big 'AUTOCO' logo on their arm typically meant they were either going to be shuffled into another sector or relocated to the smelting plant. I didn't mention this.
Weld nodded. "Well, this thing tends to attack people with bionic limbs. The worst it's done is outright tear them off, but otherwise it'll just menace. It'll leap out of cover, snap an arm or leg, then get away. We think it can pick up on the neural disruptions and tries to purge them."
"No one's gotten a good look at it, just the occasional flash of a limb. That's probably why the lamp was smashed." Lennox smacked his hand against the table.
Weld stood up, yawning. "This casket can support her for at least a month, Lennox. Tell the old fart that we're in no hurry." He walked out of the room, tools in hand. Lennox cracked his knuckles and rubbed his forehead. "Follow me, guys. There's a few empty rooms you can sleep in, god knows we're not in a rush." Eddie looked like he was about to say something, but clamped his mouth shut and stood up. I walked over to the casket, glancing at the diagnostic board.
STABLE slowly strobed across the bottom, I turned around, following Lennox and Eddie out towards the checkout station. The sky had turned a dark blue and pinpricks of light were scattered throughout the Junkyard, miles away. I stood staring at the strange alien landscape, an odd step above the infinite reach of the land surrounding the pit, cities glowing orange through the night. I could see the W.A.T. barely shining along the northeast ridge, partially out from the eastern cliffs. I wondered how many other people watched this every night, this man made mess trying to brighten itself. I turned, eyes strained, and saw the C.C.C.S. light up like a spiderweb.
"Well, you don't see that everyday." Eddie said, wandering out after me.
"Nope."
"Sleep. Now."
"Yep."
I meandered inside.

fuck, i missed this update for god knows how long.

the talk of Mal's really interests me, i find that stuff intriguing. and i like Weld's character, very 'to the point'.