Chapter 21
Rochester, Homeland
UN Army robot fighter, Major Bernard arrived back at the Police Chief Mitchell’s position a block away from the occupied police station. One of his men was limping and another soldier bloodied up around the neck was being helped by another one.
The chief asked, “What happened?”
“You had to be there,” one of the men replied angrily.
The chief said, “but you did get it, right? I didn’t hear any communication, but I figured you took out that android, right?”
“No,” the major said, “we did not. In fact, I can tell you this; that android took it easy on us.”
“What?”
“It knew we were coming and it could have shot every one of us dead with the Plasfusion rifle you say it has.”
“It does have it.”
“Then it is pulling punches. You know what that means, Mitchell?” Bernard looked at Mitchell, who looked confused and didn’t respond. “It might mean that it can’t intentionally kill humans, or; it may just want to talk.”
“We’re not allowed to talk . . . “
“I know! I know! I have spent my entire career doing this stuff while not being able to talk to terrorists. I know the protocols and how these machines think. Okay, here is what should have happened and what is going to happen; we , meaning army and police, are going to launch a full-on assault into that building. We will take our casualties. Then one of us will put a robot slug into its head. Then you will show up wearing your flak jacket in front of a podium talking to the TV news and say how you were a hero and took their robot TV pirate out with the help of the wonderful UN Army.”
“Okay! Fine!” the Chief’s words said while his face clearly hated the idea. “We’ll do it your way. I can agree with you; no one got blasted by that thing when you went in there. And I have to admit, no one got blasted earlier when we were trying to get in through the main door. Only the car got blasted. So maybe you are right; it won’t try to kill us; maybe.”
“Alright then,” Bernard said. “Just keep telling yourself that.”
Within a half hour the police took positions at the main entrance and the back door. Police snipers were stationed on top of buildings on all four sides of the city block. Surveillance drones were hovering overhead, and a dispatcher served as battle controller using a laptop. There were a few UN soldiers among the front and back assault teams to provide the heavier anti-robot firepower.
The military operation was under a communication blackout, because it was assumed that U-1, and in turn the Lucid network, would intercept any messages. The chief looked at his watch. It was one minute before “go time”. He felt an insect on the back of his neck. The sensation was nothing out of the ordinary. He habitually swatted at it and it crunched a weird crunch, not like a normal fly on his skin. He felt the unexpected strange feeling object in his hand, suddenly thinking it was not a normal feeling insect. It was not important, but he looked at it out of habit. That fly seemed a little unusual. He took a closer look. Wait a second, he thought, this thing is a . . . Then he realized the fly was an eavesdropping device. He could only hope that the enemy inside did not already know the exact moment they would begin their assault.
At that instant the chief of police felt a blast of heat as if a super-hot oven door was being opened. But there was no smoke, no flash. It was coming from the direction of the police station so he ran away from it to get relief from the suffocating heat. He noticed others were running as well. The burning continued on his back until he got across the street away from the police station.
Chief Mitchell asked the controller, “What’s going on?”
“Everyone involved in the operation ran away, Chief.”
Mitchell’s head sunk when he realized that the android turned one of the radio transmission towers into a super-high frequency high powered microwave weapon. The chief was familiar with the tactic because microwaves were sometimes used as a crowd control measure by police. Microwaves would cook the water and fat in a body. The burning sensation would quickly drive anyone away until they were out of range.
People all around the perimeter of the police station were walking off the burning pain. Then gunshots could be heard.
The chief looked and saw a few of his men were firing at an area where a car pulled up in front of the police station. Two more plain-looking androids were going from the car, taking advantage of the distraction, into the station. One of the androids was hit. The gunfire started increasing as more officers were engaged. Sparks from flew off of the car and androids as the bullets pinged off of them. The injured android was being dragged into the building by its partner.
“No!” the chief shouted. The last thing they needed at this point was more Lucids to battle in their siege warfare.
Then he saw a Viking themed Sidekick with its historically-incorrect, two long horns sticking out of helmet waddled as fast as it could for the front door with its short legs. BAMMMMM! A 4-gague shotgun blast echoed among the buildings and the slug hit the Viking, spinning it around and splashing bits of it all over the small section of grass. The Sidekick was dismembered. Except for some wire conduits, it would have been cut in half.
The unit dropped in a smoldering mound with sparks flying as the batteries discharged. The chief shook his head over the worsened situation inside the station while some of the combatants cheered over the Viking.