Final Battle (10 page)

“Yes,” I said. “I cannot switch instantly, but it is possible.”

“So you could speak to me here in New York and five minutes later speak to someone else in London, England? And then five minutes later, Paris? And so on?”

“If a robot was waiting in each place.” I thought of the ant-bot in Ashley's locket. And wanted this interview to be over so I could try to talk to Ashley again. “Not much different than using a phone.”

“Is it tiring?”

“Physically, it is not.” I explained how, during robot control, I was totally motionless. “Mentally, I can last as long as I would normally be able to stay awake and concentrate.”

And so our conversation continued. I answered questions about growing up on Mars. I told her how it felt to go into robot control and how it felt to come out again. I told her about the capabilities of robots. That took well over a half hour of interview time.

After a short break, she continued with her questions. By then I was totally relaxed.

“You were able to go into a nuclear plant under extreme conditions,” she began.

“Actually, my robot was. I directed its actions.”

“Of course.” She smiled. “Tell me, Tyce, if a robot is that unstoppable, wouldn't it make the perfect soldier?”

“It makes the perfect firefighter. It makes the perfect worker in extreme weather conditions. It makes the perfect explorer on the Moon and on Mars,” I explained.

“But …” She leaned in. A fierceness filled her face. “If there were 200 of you orbiting in space and all 200 of you controlled armed robots down here on Earth, wouldn't you be perfect soldiers? Don't you see potential danger in that?”

“Who would build the 200 armed robots?” I asked. “Who would put them in place?”

My question seemed to catch her off guard. “I suppose,” she answered, “it would be military people.”

“Then,” I said, “maybe you should ask them those questions.”

For a moment, she frowned. Then she laughed. “Good point. Let's get to the operation itself. I understand it must be done before children are three years old. With adults, for example, the nervous system is too fully developed and won't properly intertwine with the bioplastic fibers that deliver information to the brain.”

“That is correct,” I answered. Now it was coming.

“So this operation is done to children before they are old enough to decide if they want it done or not.”

“Yes.” What was I going to say if she asked me if I would have allowed it to be done to me?

“So what if kids were taken from their parents at a young age and put into robot slavery?”

This wasn't the question I expected. I hesitated too long.

“What if,” she continued, “I told you information has reached me that exactly this has
already
been done?”

“Then I would say that anyone who has that information and is holding it back to get better ratings on a show instead of helping those kids is using them just as badly as the people who put them into slavery,” I fired back.

I expected her to get angry.

Instead, she smiled. “You are exactly right, Tyce Sanders. And that is why, right now, to a live worldwide audience, our network is going to break an exclusive story on how kids forced into slavery and armed with soldier robots almost assassinated all the officials at the recent Summit of Governors.”

On a nearby television screen, I saw that the show cut from our interview and began to roll with the news story.

“How do you know all this?” I asked Ms. Borris through my robot. We were now off camera. Her exclusive story was giving out top secret military information.

“I'll tell you everything,” she said. The bright, sharp expression on her face had been replaced by one of deep weariness. “Later tonight. If I'm not arrested by then.”

“But—”

“Ten o'clock tonight. Make sure you return to controlling this robot. I'll have it all arranged so we can talk.”

“Tonight?” There was Ashley. And the Moon stuff.

“But—”

“Tonight,” she insisted. “Your father's life depends on it.”

CHAPTER 18

I had to remind myself that my body was remaining in one place, the nice quiet calm of outer space. Because everything else seemed like a whirlwind. The Moon. Then the ethics committee in New York. The Moon again. Back to New York for Ms. Borris. It was as hectic as playing a computer game full-time.

And now?

The visuals from the ant-bot brought a weird mixture of light and dark to my brain. At first, I had trouble focusing. It took some zooming out with the ant-bot lenses until I began to comprehend that I was not in Ashley's locket. It seemed like the ant-bot was screened from the light by something.

Hair?

“Ashley? Ashley?”

Without warning, brightness overwhelmed the ant-bot. It seemed like it was at the bottom of a tunnel.

“Hang on, Tyce.”

Ashley! Talking to me in a whisper.

“I'm going to tilt my head and hold my hand below my ear,” she continued to whisper. “Then crawl out onto my palm.”

So it
had
been hair from her head that had screened the ant-bot from the light. And she had hidden me in her ear?! Gross.

My entire world shifted, and I struggled to keep the antbot balanced.

“Ready,” she said.

So I crawled out of her ear and onto her palm.

Ashley held her hand in front of her face. I peered upward through the video lenses of the ant-bot. To me, her face seemed as big as the presidents' faces carved into Mount Rushmore. I'd read about them once on an Earth history DVD-gigarom.

“I'm glad you're back,” she said. “Why did you leave?”

I explained.

“That makes total sense. And it's probably the best thing you could have done. They took me to the one place no one would ever look for me. I think our only chance is if they don't know you guys know.”

“I don't have much time,” I told her quickly. Ten o'clock, New York time, was approaching. I had to make sure I was in the robot in the television studio to talk with Ms. Borris. “It would be nice if you started making sense.”

“Tyce,” she said, sounding tired, “I'm back with all the other robot-control kids. In the mountains of Arizona.”

“So you're safe, then.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I remember a story once,” Ashley whispered, as if she was afraid of being overheard. “It was about a woman who was so scared of being robbed that she put bars on all her windows and a dozen locks on her door. Her house caught on fire, and she couldn't get out.”

“Meaning?” I asked. I was conscious of how little time I had. “Help me out with your riddle.”

“Meaning,” she answered softly, “the perfect place of protection can also be the perfect trap. The Combat Force soldiers are in control of a fortress no one can get into. But no one can get out of it either. The only link is by telephone or computer. Combat Force soldiers at other bases have no way of knowing anything is wrong here if someone on this end of the communications system lies to them.”

I had a horrible feeling. My earlier conversation with Cannon came back to me. The one where I'd asked why Ashley had been kidnapped if there were all the others.

And Cannon's words echoed through my mind:
“But at least all the others are safe. Can you imagine if the Manchurians got the Terratakers to regain control of them too?”

“What you're saying—” I gulped—“is that the wrong Combat Force people control this. And you're all prisoners.”

She nodded. “The Terratakers have us again. They'll blow this place to shreds if anyone tries to take it. With us in it.”

CHAPTER 19

When I left the ant-bot and began controlling the robot in New York City at 10:00, Ms. Borris was not waiting for me as promised.

Instead, when light waves reached my brain through the video lenses of the robot that had been left behind in the television studio, I found the robot alone in a small room. In front of a television.

I tried the door.

It was locked by a keyed bolt. No one could enter without the key. No one could leave without the key. The door was a steel fire door. I doubted even a robot could break through. What kind of trick did she think she was playing? I wondered. Trapping the robot wasn't like trapping me. All I had to do was disengage anytime I wanted.

Did she expect me to wait?

Or, it hit me, had she been taken somewhere so she couldn't be back on time? Had she been arrested, like she feared?

I looked again at the television and the remote sitting on top.

I wheeled over, took the remote, then backed away from the television. When I pressed the remote, the screen flickered immediately to life. Ms. Borris stared straight at my robot from the screen. There was no backdrop behind her. Just a close-up of her face, looking fatigued.

“Tyce,” her television figure said, “earlier today I locked your robot into this closet for fear that right after our interview, I would be arrested by the Combat Force for the subjects we discussed on television.
Kidnapped
is a better word, because I have done nothing to deserve being arrested. I knew the questions I was asking you would get me into trouble. I prerecorded this in case that happened. If I am not speaking to you in person, then you know I am in trouble. The only way to safety for all of us is for you to bring the whole truth about robot control to the world by media limelight. Not even the Terrataker traitors within the World United Federation can fight massive public opinion. Thank goodness, democracy still rules.”

Ms. Borris paused to lift a glass of water into sight. She sipped from the glass, then set it down out of sight again. “Let me start by telling you that your father is not who he appears to be. For years, as a space pilot, he has been working undercover for the United States division of the Combat Force. As have I. We are both dedicated to stopping the Terratakers, and all of those aligned with the Manchurians who back them, from reaching world dominance within the Federation.”

Dad?
My
dad? If robots could breathe, I'm sure mine would have held its breath as I kept watching through its eyes.

“General McNamee arranged for your father to escape the Combat Force prison in the Florida Everglades while you were in Arizona. In so doing, McNamee risked his career. There are higher-ranking generals within the World United Federation who do serve the Terratakers. If they found out he was responsible …” She took a deep breath. “You do know they are holding his son hostage.”

Where was she going with this? And how did she know?

“The general is playing a complicated game,” Ms. Borris continued. “The higher-ups put him in charge of the robot-control technology because they have his son as a hostage and know they can control him. They tied the general's hands by telling him next to nothing about the operation. This way it would look like officially they have done their best. Unofficially, they could try to stop him. Yet because of you and Ashley, he was able to prevent the assassination attempt at the Summit of Governors. They do not intend to let him go any further. He can't openly fight the Terratakers hidden within the ranks above him or they might kill his son. Nor can he openly divulge military secrets to the media as a result of the Combat Force oath he took.”

Where had she gotten all of this information?

“That is why he arranged for your father's escape. Your father has been feeding me the information it will take to defeat the Terratakers through media publicity. Cannon can't speak directly, so he has funneled information to your father.”

She knew where Dad was!

“You may also be aware of the highly sophisticated electronic listening devices available to the Combat Force. It wouldn't surprise me if one was attached directly to your clothing. Or your wheelchair. Anywhere that will let some of the Terratakers listen to any of your conversations. For that reason, the general has been able to say little to you. And for that reason, your father has not been able to contact you directly, except for that one phone call.”

She took another sip of water. “He was hoping you would be able to visit him in a robot body, which wouldn't be bugged. But he was also afraid that something might happen to me or that somehow we might get caught together, so he has only contacted me via telephone or computer. I don't know where he is. I can only tell you what he told me. And that he is safe.”

Ms. Borris closed her eyes briefly. She looked sad and tired. I think I understood why. She expected to be arrested any minute. That made it all the more brave that she had decided to videotape this message instead of fleeing to somewhere safe.

“You'll find your father at the place where he and Rawling hung out in New York during their training days.”

Rawling? They knew each other before the Mars Project? What kind of training had they done together? My mind spun with possibilities.

“Your father says that Rawling won't give out that information unless he knows it's you asking. So even if the wrong people listen to this message, they won't be able to find him. But you can. Let me repeat. At the place where he and Rawling hung out in New York.” Ms. Borris sighed. “With me gone, you're the link, Tyce. You need to get this story broadcast to the world. Then your dad can come out of hiding. And I will be released. If I'm still alive.”

There was noise behind her. She whirled in the direction of the noise. Then back at the camera. She began to talk very quickly. “I trust Ben, my cameraman. He's promised to lock your robot in a closet with this video ready to play. I hear the soldiers coming now. Get the information from Rawling. Find your father. He's got a way to reach the world media. Understand? Get to your father.”

But the door was locked.

She smiled on camera, as if reading my mind. “You'll find a key taped beneath the television. It will let you out of the closet. From there, get out of the building through a fire exit as fast as you can. And please, find your father!”