Martin"s Secret

Fererra had ordered Luther Williams and Jack to interview the facility’s security team and identify any recent attempts to undermine or breach the compound. While no unauthorized attempts to access the subterranean structure were reported, there weren’t enough human guards deployed to suit Luther.

“We need human deployments at every remote access point leading to this stinking dungeon, especially the abandoned emergency exits,” he told Renfroe, the facility’s general manager. Renfroe grumbled about a personnel shortage but promised to consider the request. For his part, Luther told him relying on a bunch of androids to walk key posts amounted to incompetence. After the two briefly locking horns over the issue, Refroe left peeved.

Employees normally accessed and departed the underground premises through a heavily guarded, concrete ramp that led to a secure parking garage two floors beneath the basement of a federal building. From there, retina-scanned employees descended and ascended in high-speed elevators. The system attracted almost no attention since access to the secret, second-level basement was off limits to media and anyone lacking special clearance. There were eight disguised exits like the one Martin and Jessica entered through that were equipped with older freight elevators to evacuate workers during a contingency.

Luther figured Martin would use one of these fortified, emergency tunnels if he were to break into the complex and ordered two-person security teams with ATVs to inspect the caverns until further notice. He was no scientist but he knew the company’s ballyhooed security androids were no match for Martin’s unique implant that was designed with quantum computer science.

At first, Joe Knight, the security guard in the control room, seemed competent enough, but Luther’s initial assessment didn’t last. He reported two drones missing but dismissed the event as another accidental collision since they’d lost four drones that way in the past six months. Luther had been monitoring remote workshops and emergency exits from over Joe’s shoulder when his hard eyes narrowed to a squint.

“Wait, go back. Stop right there,” he shouted to the security officer. “Play back the last fifteen seconds in slow-mo.”

“I don’t see anything,” said the guard after isolating the image and replaying it.

“Play it back again, and Zoom in,” shouted Luther who by now was chewing his gum like a baseball coach.”

“I didn’t see that split-second interruption before,” admitted the guard.

Williams shook his head and didn’t respond. He abhorred idle chatter. In this business, inattentive security guards were like friendly fire to a soldier.

“It may be remote camera manipulation. Send one of your android-Stormtroopers down there. I want him in front of camera-twelve and waving at us.”

The security officer shot Luther a glower that did not deter the grizzled former combat veteran.

“Now!” he shouted.

“All right, I hear you,” howled Joe, his words dripping with rebellion.

After messaging Guard-28, Joe turned and shot an icy glare at Luther.

“Done!” he said in a pout.

Before thirty seconds had passed Luther’s thin layer of patience peeled away, exposing his raw temperament.

“What’s the delay? Get on the horn with that vinyl-skinned mall cop. I want to talk to him.”

Joe’s retinas fired red strobes. “Sir, I’ll have you know you’re in the presence of a fifth-generation android and I am quite offended by your disrespectful depiction of my associate. Too bad we can’t just pull a circuit-breaker and shut you down,” said the ruffled guard.

“You’ve got to be joking,” said Williams. “You’re one of them robots? I gotta phone smarter than you.”

“I think not,” the machine replied.

“I hate to pull rank on a heap of junk, but anymore disrespect and you’ll be serving Moon Pies in the welding shop.”

“Moon Pies? What are Moon Pies?”

“Exactly,” said Luther.

Though offended as his AI’s make and model allowed, Joe let the incident pass as ACR androids are programmed to do when addressing difficult humans.

“Guard-28, are you in position yet?” he queried the control panel.

“Negative. I need two minutes, maybe three. What am I looking for? No one is scheduled in that area.”

Williams practically pushed Joe out of his chair to get to the microphone.

“This is Luther Williams on behalf of Operations Manager Anthony Fererra and the Board of Directors. Do you know Martin Harbach?”

“Yes sir.”

“Listen carefully, bot. If you see him, your orders are to kill him and his accomplice. Do you understand?”

“I’m sorry, you broke up. Did you say kill him? Kill Martin Harbach?”

Affirmative. Shoot him on sight and confirm the date and time when his vitals flatline. Now repeat your orders.”

“I am ordered to take him out, to neutralize Martin Harbach and record the event. Is that correct?”

“Affirmative, and contact control when you’re in position, over.”

“One last communications check,” persisted the droid. “My orders are shoot to kill. Kill Martin Harbach, is that correct?”

The machine framed the confirmation as a question, obviously disquieted by the order.

Joe leaned in and pushed the microphone button.

“This is Supervisor HQ-34. The order stands. Your mission is to terminate on sight.”

“Affirmative. I detect internal movement inside Corridor-F near Exit Eight. I am nearing the target,” said the guard.”

Luther ordered Joe to put a map of the compound on the surveillance screen and to show him the area.

“Right there,” said Joe. “It’s a repair shop on this floor, but all I see is a lost server-bot and lights are out in that area, no one is scheduled to work in there today.”

“Someone is definitely working that zone, but you’re right about one thing, it’s definitely unscheduled. Did you expect Martin Harbach to call ahead for reservations?”