Cryo-Man (Cryo-Man series, #1) (29 page)

             
“Nej, are you okay?”

             
I’d do anything to help but no matter how hard I try to move, I can barely wiggle my fingertips. Had we gotten another fifty or sixty feet, I might not be reduced to a mere observer. I barely see Nej from the corner of my eye but there’s no sign of him moving. I try not to consider the possibility that he’s dead but the thought is hard to avoid.

             
“Nej, get up! If you can hear me, you have to force yourself to move right
now
!” I say, though I can’t hear whether I’m talking loud enough for him to hear. “More robots are coming; your brothers and father are coming! They’ll be here any second. We have to go a little farther and we’ll be free of them forever.”

             
Nej slowly pushes himself to all fours. I’d sigh in relief if I could but that relief is still premature. He tries to stand but collapses back down, clutching his leg. I see a red stain spreading across his pants above his left knee. He begins to crawl toward me but forgets one major thing.

             
“The remote! Don’t forget the remote!” I call to him. “It’s just behind you. Use it to bring me to you.”

             
I look from Nej to the woods, where movement among the trees is becoming clearer to see. Nej isn’t moving fast enough but no amount of yelling or urging will help that. By the time he reaches the remote and starts to move me, more bullets ricochet off the tree and ground around us. Nej is slow with the controls and by the time I plod over to him, I see he’s only using one hand on the remote. His other hand puts pressure on his bleeding leg.

             
“Make me pick you up,” I tell him.

             
Nej struggles to use the remote one-handed, especially when he has to do more than just make me walk. He finally lets go of his leg to use both hands. Blood squirts out of his wound. There’s no way he should be moving now but we have no choice. I can’t hear how much he groans but his skin is pale and clammy, his face skewed in a pained grimace.

             
“Faster,” I tell him. “We must go faster.”

             
Nej nods and I watch him pushing knobs and buttons as hard as he can. But I still move much slower than usual. Though I only recharged a short while ago, I sense my power draining faster than usual, undoubtedly a result of my recently cracked panel. Several bullets ping off my back as we get closer to the safety zone. The phantom feeling of my racing heartbeat pounds in my metallic chest. With every step we push forward, I allow myself a little more hope at the prospect of escape.

             
My eyes dart from side to side, always moving, always looking for any sign of danger. A field of purple and red and orange wildflowers waits just ahead, the beautiful colors of freedom, but I spot movement converging on both sides of us. We’re once again being flanked and I’m not sure we’ll make it. Less than ten feet before reaching the clearing, a pair of robots burst through the trees and crash into me. Nej is thrown from his perch within my arm and I come to a sudden stop. I don’t see where he lands but it’s safe to assume he no longer holds the remote.

             
The robots attack me, swinging for my core, missing with their first few strikes only because my body is just turned to the side. I still feel the vibrations of being hit and wonder how many more of my solar panels are being crushed. I doubt I’ll have long to worry as the metallic monsters circle around to finish me off. But before they launch another attack, I strike.

My hand impales the core of the first robot and it collapses in a heap. I turn toward the second robot and catch its swinging arms. The robot tries to pull free but I’m too strong. I begin to spin it, lifting it off the ground and smashing it against the nearest tree. Tiny pieces of metal break free from the robot. It disintegrates more each time I bash it against the tree. Finally I spin and let go though I lose my balance in the process. I crash to the ground just in time to watch the destroyed robot sail toward Nej, who dives out of the way but not quickly enough.

              The robot doesn’t hit him flush but Nej still crumples after being hit. Something breaks free from the collision. I assume it’s a piece from the robot until I see the remote land only a few feet away from me.

             
“Nej! Nej! You have to get up!” I call out to him.

             
Though my head lay limply on the ground, I have a clear view of the remote and Nej just beyond. The young man doesn’t budge, even when I call his name over and over. Freedom is so close but there’s nobody left to guide me the rest of the way – nobody except me.

             
I still can’t hear but I know the others must be coming. I close my eyes and concentrate on my head against the ground, concentrate on trying to feel the slightest vibration to indicate approaching robots. No such trembling exists, though I doubt that’ll last long. I turn my eyes on the remote, which is so close yet might as well be miles away.

             
You can do this,
I tell myself.
You
have
to do this
.

             
I tell my fingers to move and several of them wiggle. Concentrating more intently, I stare at my metallic pincers and
command
them to move. My hand clenches, the fingers digging into the dirt and crawling a few inches forward. More of my power drains from the effort. It’s a struggle that taxes my mind and body alike, leaving me so exhausted that I’d be out of breath if I had lungs.

             
I’m not sure how much time passes but it seems like my hand takes forever to cover those last few inches. My fingertips brush against the edge of the remote. In my excited haste, my movements are clumsy. I end up pushing the remote a few inches farther away. By the time I finally grab hold of it and move my pincers toward the many buttons – of which I still have to figure out – I’m relieved beyond words.

             
Until a shadow suddenly looms above me. I rush to push one of the remote’s buttons but only my feet move, scraping against the ground. I turn my eyes up to see a large hiking boot lower atop my hand. I recognize the boot; it seems strangely appropriate that
he
was the one to find me. I just hope whatever punishment he doles out is quick, painless and final.

             
“Please, you have to help Nej,” I say. “He’s hurt.”

             
37 looks toward his youngest son’s body. For a brief moment, a look of concern passes over his face but that’s soon replaced with a sneer of contempt. He says something I can’t hear but still understand: he couldn’t care less about what happens to Nej. His cruelty – especially to his own children – never ceases to surprise me.

             
37 raises his hunting rifle until it’s only inches from my forehead. His lips move, undoubtedly giving me a final insult that I don’t bother trying to figure out. Instead, I close my eyes and think about my sons as I await the inevitable.

             
I suddenly feel a rush of air directly above me and wonder if this is the end, if I’ve been killed and my soul is rushing from my body. After several seconds pass and nothing happens, I open my eyes to see I’m still on the ground, still in my robotic body, still have my hand draped atop the remote. But 37’s foot no longer pins me down, nor does he stand above me. I look toward the remote and at Nej beyond but still see no evidence of the evil man.

             
Whatever 37 is up to, I focus solely on the remote, pressing different buttons and different levers, trying desperately to figure out how to move my neck. It takes several difficult minutes of experimentation, during which time I expect 37 to reappear and shoot. But he never does. I struggle to keep hold of the remote and move my fingers at the same time but when I find the appropriate lever to turn my head to the side, I immediately spot a difference in the forest nearby.

             
A huge boulder is smashed against a tree less than ten feet behind where I lay. I don’t know how it suddenly got there but I now know what caused that strong rush of air moments ago. But the most amazing part is the bloodstain near the bottom of the boulder, as well as the pair of unmoving legs that stick out from beneath it. Attached to the end of those legs is a pair of hiking boots I know all too well.

CHAPTER THIRTY

             
Shock. Elation. Confusion. Trepidation. I’m not sure which emotion I feel strongest, though all swirl through my mind. I wait for 37’s legs to start moving again, wait for him to push the huge boulder off himself and continue his reign of terror against Nej and me. But I remind myself that despite his cruelty, 37 is just an old man, not some indestructible super-villain. I stare at his legs for nearly a minute and see no more movement than an occasional death twitch.

             
That still doesn’t mean I want to hang around and deal with the rest of his forces, robot
or
human. With my power still draining, I struggle to concentrate on moving my fingers with any modicum of control. Every button I press and lever I push takes great effort. I become increasingly frustrated each time I fail to get myself moving. Time is not a factor on my side so I’m relieved when I finally find the controls that work the lower half of my body. I figure out how to dig my feet into the ground and push off, which at least lets me drag myself toward Nej.

             
I expect disaster at any moment so it’s a relief when I reach the young man. He’s still unconscious and bleeding from a gash on his forehead but his chest rises and lowers rhythmically, his breathing strong and even.

             
“Nej, Nej, wake up,” I say. When he doesn’t respond, I move my body just enough to bump him, which still does nothing. “Come on, Nej, we’re almost there. You need to get up and walk us a little farther.”

             
He still doesn’t move. I could crawl my way to freedom in a matter of minutes but I can’t leave him after he risked so much for me. I fiddle with the remote until I figure out how to move my arms (in the process I nearly throw the remote by mistake, only holding on by the little bit of strength I have in my pincers). I drape my empty arm over Nej’s body and pin him tight to my side.

             
I slowly turn to the clearing and begin to drag both of our bodies toward freedom. My head hangs limply against the ground and I get a face full of dirt. Progress is slow. Since Nej keeps sliding from my grasp, I have to keep switching my fingers from the buttons controlling my legs to the buttons controlling my arms. If we had to travel any significant distance, I would’ve forced myself to find a better system. But I soon get a good rhythm going and freedom no longer seems an impossible goal.

             
It feels like my body is covered with ice and every step forward brings me closer to an open oven, thawing me a little more. My fingers become easier to control and no longer leave me exhausted each time I flex one. My legs move a little smoother, no longer powered by the remote alone. I hold Nej’s body a bit tighter so I don’t lose my grip on him. With the wildflowers just ahead, the sensation and control that returns to my robotic body feels amazing. It’s the most alive I’ve felt in the last five years, maybe the most since waking up in CIFPOL.

             
And that’s why it’s so frustrating when I sense only minutes remain until I’ll lose complete power. Even worse are the vibrations I suddenly feel, trembling that can only be the result of an approaching robot. I’d hoped 37’s death would mean an end to his orders to destroy us. For all I know, control of the robots has transferred to one of his older sons. I can’t believe I’ve made it so far to come up short as I finally reach the first of the flowers. My vision fades to black just as I sense a massive shadow looming over me…

I’m chasing the boy again… his tiny laugh fills the air… he calls out ‘you can’t catch me’… my voice responds ‘we’ll see about that’ but I barely hear the boy’s hysterical squeal before a different voice interrupts him…

             
My lone memory fades as suddenly as it began. I don’t even open my eyes before realizing my strength has returned.

             
“Nikolas, open your eyes,” the voice says, soft yet full of urgency. “You have to wake up
now
, Niko.”

             
I’m confused, not for the first time and I doubt for the last. Somewhere in the back of my mind, the voice sounds familiar, as if it belongs in a memory I can’t quite grasp. I can’t figure out if it was from my robot life or my past life as a human…

             
I open my eyes to the sun shining in a field of colorful wildflowers, to the clearing I’ve been dreaming about for years. Even though I’ve finally gotten here, the presence of a massive robotic body looming above makes me wonder if my escape will end up for naught. The robot is bigger than most from 37’s collection but with my power recharging and control of my body back, I look forward to fighting on my own again.

             
I’m about to jump to my feet and attack when my eyes reach the robot’s head – not that it’s actually a robot head.

             
“I thought I saw you out there,” I say. “But I convinced myself I was only seeing things.”

             
“Yes, I’ve been told in the past that I’m quite the vision.”

             
Mom stands above me. Not
my
mom but the old woman from CIFPOL, E’s second human/robot creation, the woman he brought back to life when I was scouring the surface during his dying hours. I’d been shocked to see her hiding among the trees beyond the clearing but now I’m even more surprised that she’s real. She offers me her hand but I can’t stop looking at her face, wondering how the hell she ended up
here
of all places.

             
“Are you going to take my help?” she asks impatiently. “Or are you going to make me wait even
longer
for you?”

I take her hand and she yanks me up. It’s the first time I’ve stood on my own two feet in years. I feel wobbly for a few moments, like I’ve been on a boat for a long time and now I’m back on solid land. When I look at Mom, the first thing I think is how beautiful she looks and I’m not just talking the human part of her. Her metallic body shines, flawless, not a dent or ding to be seen. Her helmet remains intact, the glass perfectly clear. She obviously avoided most of the risks – and all of the damage – I endured since leaving CIFPOL.

On the ground beside her is a bag like the one she once gave me. The sight of it gives me a little stab of pain as I remember 37 forcing me to drop mine in the fire. Next to the bag are a broken solar panel and a few tools. Now I know where my burst of energy came from.

“It took you long enough to escape those woods,” she says. “And you still almost blew it in the end.”

She has the uncanny ability to be annoying and endearing at the same time. She looks beyond me toward 37’s lands and it suddenly dawns on me what must’ve happened.

“You saved me?” I ask in awe. “With the boulder?”

I turn to look at the massive rock smashed against the tree – and atop 37 – just within the line of trees. We’re on the opposite side of the clearing, where she must’ve carried me after I lost complete power. I spot quick glimpses of movement among the trees but none of the robots or humans step into view.

“I wasn’t going to let that guy shoot you in the head,” Mom says. I look from the boulder to the old woman, who’s once again able to read my thoughts. “Told you I was as strong as you.”

Hearing those words – hearing everything she says and the swishing breeze through the wildflowers and the distant shuffling within the woods – makes me realize something else.

“My ears are working again.”

Mom nods. “You’re welcome. I tightened your wires and replaced your destroyed panels. Had I known you’d be so reckless, I would’ve brought more spare parts to make you another dome, too. No wonder your wires were so jumbled.”

“How?” I ask. “Why?”

“How were your wires jumbled?” she asks, confused.

“No,” I say. “How are you here?
Why
are you here? How did you know where I’d be? Why would you come for me after I left you?”

Mom shrugs her metallic shoulders. “I promised E I’d look out for you. I’m a woman of my word, though you didn’t make that easy for me. I admit I was pretty pissed when I came out of shutdown to find you gone. I didn’t know where you went so I waited in CIFPOL for you to return. I spent days harvesting supplies and finally left when I realized you weren’t coming back.”

The old woman tells me that she followed the general path she assumed I’d be traveling. It took nearly a year until she picked up signs of my trail, spotting heavy robotic footprints far off the beaten path from the robotic army. Mom thought she lost me when she approached River City but circled to the far side of the army and picked up my trail once more.

             
“You made quite the impression in several places across the country,” she says. “Many humans I met along the way heard the tale of your jaunt across the roofs of River City. Not much information gets out of that city but your story certainly did.”

             
So much for keeping a low profile. Still, one thing she says is more surprising than learning about my unexpected fame.

             
“You
met
humans? You
spoke
to them?” I ask. She nods. “They didn’t shoot at you or try to run away the moment they saw you?”

             
“There are some advantages to looking old and friendly,” she says. “Just outside River City I came across a band of humans that told me of another human/robot hybrid like me. They told me how you chased them through these woods, that you were part of a strange group of robots that acted on orders from a human. That’s when I came here. I would’ve gone in after you but I heard those lands were just as dangerous for robots as humans.”

             
“You have no idea,” I say. “So you waited out here for me?”

             
She nods and looks away, her face flushing slightly.

             
“But that must’ve taken years,” I say.

             
“It’s not like I stood in place the entire time,” she snaps. “I circled the entire forest, crossing the river on one side and the rocky hills on the other, making sure never to get too close, looking for any way to get closer to you or see
any
sign of you. I thought I caught a few glimpses during the years but I was never positive you were in there or if you were still alive. But then I saw you kill those people and take that girl yesterday.”

             
“It wasn’t me, a man named 37 was controlling everything I did,” I say.

             
I have a strange need for Mom not to think poorly of me. I’m relieved when she nods knowingly.

             
“I spoke to several Dearborn survivors that escaped,” she says. “They were ashamed to abandon their princess but were focused on reaching River City and finishing their mission. I tried to steer them in the right direction for where to go. Anyway, I wanted to help you but didn’t know what to do. When you slung that girl over your shoulder and disappeared back into the woods, I was worried it would be years until I saw you again. Needless to say I was quite surprised when I saw
you
being hunted just a day later. What happened for you to become the prey instead of the hunter?”

             
“I was never the best soldier, something about my brain still working enough to realize what we were doing was wrong,” I say. “I kept trying to help the humans, tell them where to go even as I was chasing them down. As much as 37 liked controlling me, I think he looked forward to the day he could destroy me. He would’ve succeeded if it wasn’t for you.”

             
“Just doing what E would’ve wanted,” she says.

             
My first instinct is to disagree with her. After all, nobody in their right mind would spend years trying to find a complete stranger, especially one who made it all too clear he didn’t want to be followed. I have no doubt that Mom searched me out for other reasons. She clearly doesn’t want to talk about it so I don’t push the subject.

             
“How did you know how to fix me?” I ask, changing topics.

             
“E taught me,” she says. “When he was converting the soldier, he had to fix the broken robot to make it a viable host. He showed me how to change solar panels, which is a good thing for you. And I heard you saying in the woods that you couldn’t hear so I made sure to tighten the wires in your brain. I wasn’t sure it would work until you woke up and could hear me.”

             
“You messed with my brain?” I ask. The thought
should
make me feel uncomfortable but somehow it doesn’t. I think the old woman has done plenty to earn my trust.

             
“It wasn’t difficult. Don’t worry, I was careful,” Mom says. “You were lucky the wire was just loose. If it had been pulled out all the way, I might not have known where to reconnect it. For that matter, you could’ve suffered permanent damage.”

“Too bad E didn’t teach you where he thought long-term memory was stored,” I say.