The Incision of Being Read online

  The Incision of Being

  A.J. Jameson

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  The Incision of Being. Copyright © 2019 by A.J. Jameson

  All Rights Reserved

  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 1

  The Harbingers had never driven directly to MR&H to steal a mechanthrop. They'd usually go south to the shipping docks and rob cargo trains. But law enforcement had cracked down on the train heists, so the change was necessary, Annalease told herself.

  And then there was her crew’s means of transportation: a box truck instead of MR&H’s standard semi-tractor trailer. Contracted repair crews use vans of similar dimension.

  And of the potential cameras inside? If we counted potentials, we’d never commit to anything.

  Police station fifteen minutes away? We’ll call in as many false alarms as possible to thin the force.

  “You’re reaching, Annalease,” Robert said. The anchor that kept Annalease from drifting too far at sea, Robert Charter had been by her side since they founded the Harbingers nine years prior “Or should I say rationalizing, like them?”

  “I’m not an illogical puppet, dangling from the strings of empathetic delicacy,” Annalease said. She waited for his response, but he didn’t so much as chuckle. He just kept his eyes on the road. With bitter remorse, Annalease realized that Robert was right. I’m acting like them. All flesh and emotion. Annalease took a deep breath, straightened her posture, and watched the horizon for the storage facility’s bright lights.

  When their target came in sight, Robert broke the silence. “Listen, if this isn’t the savior we’ve been waiting for—”

  “Let’s wait and see,” Annalease said.

  “It’s not the end of the world, is what I’m getting at,” Robert said. “I don’t want you taking it as a loss.”

  Annalease suppressed a smirk and kept her eyes forward. “Sounds like you’re the one worrying.” And there it was again, a wrenching in her gut. Guilt for bickering with an ally who had saved her life. “I apologize.”

  “No need.”

  They came upon the guard shack posted outside the facility’s receiving area. Robert rolled the window down and said the magic words. “Peregrine Deliveries, here to pick up a shipment for overnight drop off.”

  The guard checked her clipboard under a flashlight. “Do you have an order number?”

  Robert handed her the paper, and she retreated into the shack. Everything was moving like clockwork. She’d return in a minute, hand the sheet back, and raise the gate. And if she didn’t, Annalease had the air rifle loaded with a tranquilizer strong enough to subdue a large feline.

  The gate lifted. Robert was given the paper back, and they continued into the facility’s receiving area. A few parked semi-trucks sat in a line, their drivers destined to have a little something extra to talk about tomorrow morning.

  “One squad car,” Robert noted. “I see an officer outside.”

  “He’s eating,” Annalease said, and waved as they passed. The officer didn’t wave back. “We’ll have to neutralize him.”

  “It’ll have to be quick and quiet.”

  They drove past the only active semi-truck, its tail-end engaged with the receiving dock, delivering precious cargo. Please let him be on that truck, Annalease prayed. She’d been waiting for nine years, and as much as she resisted the idea of a false prophet, a tumorous growth of doubt had manifested in the back of her mind.

  Robert parked next to the semi-truck, backing up close to the dock but leaving enough room for the rest of the team to exit the rear of the vehicle. Annalease handed Robert the air rifle. Sure, it could tranquilize a tiger, but that was negligible compared to the damage a mechanthrop could do.

  She grabbed the Overrider from the glove compartment and hopped out to join Robert at the rear of the box truck. He had unlatched the truck’s rollup door and its joints were thudding as the spindle retracted the door panels. Annalease sought the cop to their right, but the large tractor trailer blocked her view.

  “Be ready to use that,” she said to Robert, motioning at the air rifle.

  He tapped his watch, then lay prone next to the tractor’s tire, peering under the semi at the police cruiser.

  An overhead light in the box truck flickered on as the door finished ascending. Skink and Salamander stood on either side of the mechanthrop, a seven-foot-tall android constructed of durable silver alloys in the shape of a human skeleton. Although immense, mechanthrops possessed the dexterity of a rock climber who could pluck a fly out of midair while juggling a soccer ball on one foot. They also had circuit boards in their metal craniums capable of retaining ten-human-brains worth of information.

  “We have a patrol officer outside, but I don’t think he suspects anything,” Annalease said, climbing in.

  A glint of light reflected off Salamander’s skinning knife. “Do you need me out there?”

  Brewed in a batch of fishermen, Salamander had an intimate relationship with sharp objects. He could slash up a piece of meat so quickly that it took a few seconds for the severed pieces to separate. Quicker still was his tendency to pull the knife.

  “No. I need you behind the wheel,” Annalease said. Along with being adept at filleting fish, Salamander had been gifted the ability to navigate the stars. Each pin prick in the sky’s dark fabric led to a different forest or lake.

  “And me behind our silver gorilla,” Skink said, reaching up to pat the mechanthrop’s back. “Better yet, I’ll ride it into battle.” She climbed the android and seated herself atop its shoulders.

  Spawned as a mistake, Skink spent a great deal of energy trying to impress upon others the joy of laughter. Smiles were paramount. Even if the conversation revolved around a dangerous task that might end them all, Skink would joke about how many enemy grenades she could fit in her mouth for the sake of saving the team. Annalease didn’t laugh, because she knew it wasn’t a joke. Skink would literally eat grenades if it meant saving a life.

  “No. Down,” Annalease said.

  Skink lowered herself from the mechanthrop, her baggie military pants tripping her up as she tried to balance her oversized head. Her height reaching just below Annalease’s sternum, Skink’s small stature proved troublesome when it came to finding clothes that fit. Headgear was even worse; hers was in the shape of an octopus head enshrouded in flesh.

  Annalease took aim at the mechanthrop’s humanistic head and selected the wake command of the Overrider. The mechanthrop straightened its posture. Its mechanical entrails hummed as gears turned and hydraulic arteries pumped fluid. A durable exoskeleton cool to the touch. One day we’ll live in harmony, Annalease thought, and stepped aside. “Mute audible output. Disembark vehicle,” she instructed.

  The truck swayed on its shocks as the mechanthrop walked for the exit. Skink and Salamander had pulled out the extendable ramp. Annalease grew anxious at the thought of the ramp buckling under the mechanthrop’s weight. A box truck showing up late at night was sus
picious enough.

  The last thing they needed was for the cop to walk over and find Robert hiding behind a tire with air rifle in hand.

  But soon the mechanthrop was on solid ground, the ramp having withstood its weight.

  “How’s it looking?” Annalease asked Robert as she passed his position.

  He nodded, never taking his eyes off target.

  Annalease instructed the mechanthrop to walk around the tractor trailer and approach the police officer. “Do not respond to any questions or statements he may have,” she said, and then addressed Skink as the machine wandered off to perform its task. “Beep the horn once, then sporadically if anybody enters this parking lot.”

  Skink clacked her shoes together and saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Throwing knives only if you perceive a threat,” Annalease said to Salamander. “And Robert…”

  Robert rolled to his side, exposed his wrist, and tapped his watch.

  “Right.” Annalease took a deep breath. “Stay close behind. Let’s move.”

  Annalease caught up to the mechanthrop as it was passing the parked police cruiser. The officer had pulled his pistol but hadn’t raised it. Instead, he was exchanging the weapon’s ammunition clip, substituting the standard bullets for shock-cartridges.

  “They really need to include an instruction manual with this thing,” Annalease said, pointing at the Overrider.

  The cop took the protein bar out of his mouth. “Point it at his head and tell him to halt,” he said.

  Annalease went through the motions. “Halt.” The mechanthrop continued its advance. “Halt. Now.”

  The cop raised his weapon. “Step aside, ma’am.”

  “Stop now,” Annalease spoke into the Overrider.

  The mechanthrop finished its stride and halted. Annalease shrugged. “I guess the commands are different on this model.”

  A smile designed to pacify a rowdy citizen spanned the cop’s square-like face. “I’ve never fired this thing outside practice scenarios. I can feel my heart beating out of my chest.” He holstered his weapon.

  Annalease lowered her head in embarrassment. “Sorry about that. I’m new to the job as well.”

  “No harm.” He kept a wary eye on the mechanthrop as he stepped around it to approach Annalease. “They’re still unloading a shipment in there. I came out for a quick bite. I have an extra bar if you want to…” he trailed off, his eyes roving up and down Annalease. “Can’t say I recognize your model.”

  “Yeah, the last batch was canceled after an unfortunate accident. Truck flipped, people got hurt.”

  “Uh-huh.” Officer Wyatt (stepping around the mechanthrop offered Annalease a glance at his name tag) slowly reached for his sidearm.

  “It’s really terrible…eh, neutralize Officer Wyatt,” Annalease said, the Overrider aimed at the mechanthrop’s head.

  Wyatt tried to prime his weapon, but the mechanthrop was quicker and grabbed the officer’s hand, snapping his wrist. The officer opened his mouth to scream but ended up gasping for breath as the mechanthrop punched him in the gut. Wyatt fell to the ground.

  The mechanthrop relinquished its grip but wasn’t finished. The order to “neutralize” had multiple executions programmed: relieve all threat of weapons, means of communication, and desire of retaliation.

  “Oh, come on. Don’t look at me like that,” Annalease said. Officer Wyatt had been staring at her with wide eyes, his mouth covered by the mechanthrop’s hardened hand. The android was using its other hand to free the officer’s radio, utility belt, and boots. “You’ll get paid time off after this,” Annalease said in her most encouraging voice. “And a medal or some form of recognition, I’m sure. Not bad, for a rookie.”

  “Ouch. That wrist will never bend the same,” Salamander said. He and Skink were walking side by side, him tall with broad shoulders, her short with a swollen head. They were an odd spectacle.

  “Why aren’t you in the truck?” Annalease asked.

  Salamander shrugged. “I heard a scream, so I came to help.”

  “They’ll label him maladjusted,” Robert said, emerging from the far side of the police cruiser. An inhabitant of the shadows, Robert had the natural tendency to flank his targets. A great skillset. “What do you think they’ll do to you, officer, repair or replace?” he asked, tugging his beard.

  Officer Wyatt didn’t respond. Robert played it safe and plugged the cop’s mouth with his own socks, then handcuffed Officer Wyatt to the police lights mounted on the cruiser.

  The mechanthrop pressed its index finger to the cushioned part of the officer’s palm. An unseen needle penetrated skin and the mechanthrop gathered a sample of Wyatt’s DNA.

  “There may be thousands that look just like you, but now we have the ID numbers imprinted in your genome,” Annalease said. “We have your registered living unit and know your shift hours. Remember this when they ask you what we look like. What we sound like. Otherwise, you can kiss your eyes and ears goodbye and be guaranteed a dismissal. Got it?”

  Officer Wyatt nodded.

  “They’ve toned down the new batches, huh?” Salamander said. “Could you imagine it being this easy to disarm an officer three years ago?”

  “It’s an insult to our efforts,” Robert said.

  “We’ll talk about it later,” Annalease said. “Skink, take his gear back to the truck and alert us if anyone shows.”

  She skulked away. Although a jokester in familiar company, Skink turned skittish around strangers. Especially law enforcement.

  Annalease stayed behind the mechanthrop as she ordered it to enter the facility. It ducked and shuffled in sideways through the doorway, doing its best not to break anything.

  The room they entered was the size of a stadium. Straight ahead were steel racks, hundreds of feet tall, housing thousands of mechanthrops. Aluminum, copper-alloy, and silver androids. They meant little to Annalease; she was looking for gold.

  Annalease engaged her silver mechanthrop’s audio outputs and spoke into the Overrider. “All inventory in this facility is protected under warranty. Show no resistance, grant our demands, and we won’t cause you bodily injury.”

  “Shut him down,” a voice said from across the room.

  Annalease peeked out from behind the mechanthrop. Officer Wyatt’s partner had taken cover behind a forklift—the operator still in its seat—his pistol aimed at Annalease. Next to the officer was a security guard. He had both hands up and was inching himself away from the forklift. Annalease commanded the mechanthrop to shuffle-step toward the steel racks to their right, using it as cover for herself, Salamander, and Robert.

  “Anyone not on the ground within the next three seconds will end this night in the hospital,” Annalease said.

  The forklift driver and security guard both dropped to the ground. Another employee crawled out of the tractor trailer hitched to the loading dock and lay flat, face-down.

  “Don’t be a hero,” Annalease said.

  “Requesting—” the officer let go of his radio and gawked at the knife impaling his hand.

  “I got another one for your neck,” Salamander said from somewhere between the racks.

  “You won’t win,” the cop said, pulling the knife out of his hand. He tossed the blade in Salamander’s direction. “For every one of you that sinks underground, another ten-thousand of us are made.”

  Annalease commanded the mechanthrop forward and spoke into the Overrider. “Your numbers are skewed. There’s a lot more of us than you realize.”

  The gunshot sent a convulsing shudder through Annalease. She almost collided with the frozen mechanthrop, which had begun step-stuttering in a perpetual cycle of forward and backward, forward and backward.

  The cop fired another shot. Annalease yelped as the Overrider was torn from her grip.

  “Could use your help, Robert,” she yelled.

  Another gunshot. Sparks flew from the metal bars of the racks. And then a loud grunt, but not from Salamander nor Robert. At l
east Annalease didn’t think it was Robert, never having heard him grunt like that in the past.

  No, the grunt—now a gargle—was coming from the cop. Annalease peeked around the stuttering mechanthrop. The handle of a throwing knife protruded from the cop’s Adam’s apple. He tried dislodging it as he aimed his weapon at the racks.

  These new police batches must come in varying degrees of difficulty, Annalease thought. And then the cop’s head jerked back as a tranquilizer dart stuck his forehead. The final gunshot rang out, the bullet impacting the rafters overhead, before the cop fell flat on his back.

  Annalease used her rubber-coated pliers to pry the shock-cartridge from the mechanthrop’s chest. The stutter-step ceased, and the mechanthrop continued forward, announcing its intention to “neutralize target.”

  “I think we got him there, big guy,” Salamander said. He gave Annalease an expectant look.

  Annalease tried the Overrider again, aiming it at the mechanthrop’s head. “It won’t link, the cop shot it.”

  “He shot the Overrider?” Salamander glanced to his right, where Robert had emerged from the racks.

  He aimed the air rifle at an employee sneaking for the back door and pulled the trigger. The man dropped unconscious seconds later. “The mechanthrop will terminate that man’s life,” Robert said. “I advise letting it be.”

  “No, what, no,” Salamander said. “I advise we regain control of the situation.”

  Annalease hurried past the mechanthrop and picked up the cop’s gun. “We’ll catch a lot of heat if he dies.”

  “Please don’t,” the security guard said to Robert. A tranquilizer round pierced the guard’s thigh and a moment later he passed out.

  Robert drugged the last conscious employee. “The heat’s coming either way. You’re not going soft on me, are you?”

  Annalease glared at him, but then she turned away. Robert was more machine than most of the mechanthrop’s in this room; all purpose, no emotion. She took aim at the mechanthrop.

  “What are you doing, Annalease?” Robert asked.

  “Saving us from future heartache,” Annalease said, and pulled the trigger.