I Am Automaton: A Military Science Fiction Novel (19 page)

“What about electroshock as a deterrent?” Lorenzo speculated.

“No, that won’t work either,” said Farrow. “They don’t feel pain.”

Peter remembered the ID he struck repeatedly and how it just stood there taking each blow. It didn’t even flinch.

“The dogs didn’t even have an effect on the humpers,” Peter added.

They all sat there thinking of a way around the problem.
Finally, Peter’s eyes lit up with epiphany. “What if we hit the AI kill switch and then immediately restarted them.”

“You mean like a reset?” Farrow asked.

“Yeah, like hitting the reset button. All this time, we assumed that once we hit the kill switch, those AI were out of the exercise,” Peter said excitedly.

“And because we’ll only be switching them off and then on again, any of those with the main group who are affected will only be halted for a brief moment,” Farrow added in understanding.

“This just might work,” said Lorenzo, obviously impressed by the suggestion.

“It’s definitely worth a shot,” Peter coaxed.

Major Lewis was all poker face as usual. “Okay, we’ll try it next exercise. Lieutenant Farrow, make it so.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll get right on it.”

“In the meantime,” Lewis continued, “you’re all due for a pass. Take some R&R and report back in three days.”

This was music to everyone’s ears. Major Lewis sensed that the men were burning out. They were working hard, and if he pushed them too
much, it would be counterproductive.

They were dismissed from debriefing, and Lorenzo approached Peter in the locker room. “Hey, Pete, what are you gonna do with your pass?”

Peter was putting on deodorant. “I was actually going to go home and check in on my dad. Why?”

“Well, I’ve got no plans as of now. I was wondering if I could tag
along.”

Peter and Mike had become friends since the ID outfit was put together. Mike, like Peter, was young and unattached.

“You don’t want to visit your family?” Peter asked.

“They’re on a cruise somewhere in the Caribbean.”

“Poor them. Sure, you can tag along.”

Lorenzo closed his locker. “Great. When do we leave?”

“As soon as we get back to the barracks. We’ll pack and go.”

“Awesome. It’ll be great to see where the fearless Lieutenant Peter Birdsall grew up.”

“It’s a simple place, Mike. Nothing too impressive. I think you’ll be disappointed.”

Lorenzo put his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Beats the hell out of Fort Bliss.”

“Amen to that.”

Peter and Mike were packing a few changes of clothes into their duffel bags. Peter turned on his com unit and called Carl. Carl picked up.

“Oh, hey
, Pete.”

“Carl, you look exhausted. Rough day in Basic?”

“Two words: Victory Tower.”

Peter couldn’t help but smile. “Ah, yes, the Victory Tower. I remember that. How’d you do?”

“I did fine. One of the other recruits lost it on the rope bridge and almost took the rest of us with him. But I was able to talk him through it.”

“Was the drill sergeant impressed?”

“Yeah, and I got fifty laps out of it.”

“Yeah, sounds like Basic. No good deed goes unpunished. But it all makes you tougher.”

“I know, Pete. How are things with you?”

“Got a pass for three days. I’m going home to visit Dad, see how he’s doing.”

“That’s good. I wish I could be there.”

“Eight more weeks, Carl.”

“I know. I know.”

“I warned you it wouldn’t be easy.”

“Hey, did I say I was quitting?”

Carl sounded defensive. Peter always enjoyed getting a rise out of him. What were big brothers for?

“Relax, bro. I wasn’t saying you couldn’t hack it.”

“Well, it sure sounded like it.”

Peter changed the subject. “Your girlfriend was asking about you the other day.”

Carl’s face lit up on the monitor, but he played dumb. “My girlfriend? Who?”

“Oh come off it, Carl. Captain London.”

“Really? She asked about me?”

“No, but look how excited you got.”

“Screw you, Pete.”

“Good bye, Carl.”

“Say hi to Dad. And don’t tell him I’m screwing up or anything. He’s got enough to worry about.”

“Okay, Carl. Take care.”

Carl hung up.

“Pete, you ready to go?” Lorenzo was standing behind him.

Peter turned around. “Yeah, just gave my little brother a call.”

“He doesn’t look so little anymore.”

Peter laughed at this. He noticed it too. Carl was toughening up. It was only a couple of weeks, but Basic changes a man. It makes him hard.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Peter and Mike Lorenzo left the barracks to catch their ride to Peter’s homestead.

Peter was startled when his dad answered the front door. He looked tired and haggard. His mother’s death definitely took its toll on him.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Peter. Come in.”

They stepped into the living room. The house was dark.

“Who’s your friend?”

“Dad, this is Mike Lorenzo.”

Peter’s father offered his hand, “Barry Birdsall,” and Mike took it.

“Pleased to meet you, sir.”

Peter’s father stood there, not knowing what to say next.

“Dad, you should turn on some lights. It’s no good to stay in the dark like this.”

Peter flipped on the light and was startled by what he saw. There were dirty laundry, used paper plates, and organofoam cups everywhere. Part of a pizza still in the box was on the floor and half-under the couch. His father stood there with his hands in his pockets looking sheepish.

“Jesus, Dad. What a mess.”

He was embarrassed in front of Lorenzo, but most of all he felt bad for his father. Peter walked past him and into the kitchen. He turned on the light and found a mountain of dirty dishes piled up in the sink, more fast food detritus covering the kitchen table and some of the chairs, and the toilet off the kitchen was running.

Lorenzo stood next to him. “Need some help?”

“Mike, no. I’ll…”

“Pete, I invited myself here. The least I can do is help.”

Peter’s father shuffled into the kitchen. “You don’t have to do anything guys, really.”

“Dad, I can’t just let this happen. Mike, you know how to work a grill?”

“I’m from Texas, Pete. What do you think?”

Peter opened up the refrigerator. “We can cook up some steaks or something.”

However, the refrigerator was practically empty, save some half-empty bottles of various condiments, a six-pack of beer, and a full bottle of cola. There were food stains all over the inside of the fridge.

Mike looked over
Peter’s shoulder and into the fridge. “Take out?”

Peter closed the door. “Take out.” He turned on the com unit. “Pizza?”

Peter’s dad smiled. “Pepperoni would hit the spot.”

“Sounds good to me,” Lorenzo added.

“Pepperoni it is,” Peter confirmed.

He dialed a local pizzeria and ordered two large pies with extra pepperoni. He grabbed a large garbage bag and took
to the living room, picking up garbage and dirty laundry. Mike took the kitchen, where he began to load the dishwasher.

When the doorbell rang, Peter dropped what he was doing and answered the door. He paid the deliveryman
sixty dollars, and he brought the boxes into the kitchen.

Mike had cleared off the kitchen table. Peter put down the boxes. A holographic advertisement for Joe’s Pizza flashed on the top box cover.

“Peter, let me pay you for that.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dad. It’s no problem. Sit down.”

They all sat down at the table and consumed pizza. In between bites, Peter’s father regaled Lorenzo with embarrassing stories from Peter’s childhood.

“We were at this barbecue at a neighbor’s house
…”

“Oh, Dad, no. Not that story.”

“And Peter was playing catch with his brother and some of the neighborhood kids. He was ten years old, I think.”

“Oh boy, here it comes.”

Peter was laying it on thick, faking obligatory protest to egg his father on. This was their routine whenever his father told stories. He knew his father loved it, and he felt it might pick up his spirits, at least during dinner.

His father continued. “And a yellow jacket flew right up his shorts and stung him in the groin.”

Lorenzo, in the middle of chewing, grimaced and elbowed Peter. “Holy cow. That must’ve hurt.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe, man.”

“He was crying and crying,” Peter’s dad continued. “All of the other kids just stared at him in disbelief.”

“And then there was the time he had his brother Carl convinced that he had a magic force field around him. He used to drag his feet on the carpet and dare Carl to touch him. When Carl touched him and got shocked
, he really freaked out.”

“Yeah, Dad, but you put a quick end to that. You explained to him what static electricity was. But it was a fun afternoon.”

They all laughed as they ate their pizza and drank their cola. When they finished, Barry was banished to the den to watch television with a glass of scotch while Peter and Lorenzo finished cleaning up.

Peter wiped his brow as he dragged several bloated garbage bags out to the shed in back. When he returned, Lorenzo was nursing a beer and leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Hey, Mike. Thanks for helping out. You didn’t have to.”

Mike took a gulp of beer. “No problem, Pete. I’m paying myself in beer.”

“Hey, not here. When my dad goes to sleep, we’re going out. I’m buying. There’s this local watering hole—a real shithole—but it’s close, it’s cheap, and the local girls love military men.”

Lorenzo perked up. “Oh, really. Sounds like fun.”

They kept Peter’s father company until he dozed off in his armchair. Then they crept quietly out of the house and walked to Frisky’s.

***

Peter and Lorenzo sat at the bar. They ordered two beers, and Lorenzo took in the atmosphere. “So this is the old stomping grounds of the mighty Lieutenant Birdsall.”

Peter smirked. “Aren’t you just overwhelmed with its awesomeness?”

Lorenzo had already made eye contact with a beautiful brunette across the bar through the smoke. The scent of sweat and sex saturated the air. “The local tail ain’t bad.”

Peter laughed. Lorenzo was a player, and
apparently, he moved quickly. Peter guessed that he was able to walk the walk, making him a good wingman. “Do you have any places like this where you’re from?”

The beers came. Lorenzo took a swig before answering. “None this sleazy.”

Peter punched him in the shoulder. “Hey, thanks again.”

“For what, Pete?”

“For helping me with my dad.”

“No problem. He’s great. I wish I had a nice father like that.”

Peter gulped some beer, wiping suds from his mouth. “You two don’t get along?”

“Nope. Never did, Pete. He always had a problem with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I was little
, I was too hyper or too messy or I was a cry baby. When I was older, I was too lazy or too stupid.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, man.”

“Yeah, well, I got out of that house any chance I got. I ran with other boys like me. We began to do things. You know, vandalism, stealing cars and taking them for joyrides.”

Peter put down his glass a little too hard on the bar, an indication of his surprise. “You? Really?”

“The local cops were cool about it. They’d always take me home. I begged them to lock me up, but I never escaped the beatings.”

“So why did you do those things?”

Lorenzo took a thoughtful sip of his beer. “To piss him off, I guess. It was worth the beatings.”

“He never got tired?”

Lorenzo was staring directly ahead of him at nothing at all. It was as if he was replaying his childhood like an old movie in his head. “Oh, he got tired. One day he told me that I was to join the army or he would throw me out of the house, and if I ended up in jail, I was on my own.”

“So that’s when you enlisted?”

“He took me to the enlistment center himself and watched me sign my life away.”

Peter downed the rest of his glass. “Shit, that’s heavy.”

“Oh, I was more than happy to leave that house. His years of criticism and abuse made Basic a breeze. You might say I was used to it.”