Tall Tales in Short Order

A Data Retrieval and Dissemination Android stood blankly next to its programmed ground car. Standing six-feet five-inches in height, the robot’s body was smooth and gray with pectorals of dark green. Its head was like that of a human’s skull except with no mandible. Stereoptic eyes of glass glinted in the high sun. Its joints were connected in a dowel fashion, and its functions were internal. It stood ramrod straight with its feet evenly spaced apart and arms akimbo so that the knuckles of its hands were touching its waist. An impulse from its Proximity Alert Systems notified it of the coming Security Zone Patrol Robot.

From an archway in the overgrowth of trees, the Patrol Robot rumbled over a well-tread path toward the awaiting Android. The Patrol Robot was the size of a late twentieth century minivan consisting of a sled riding on two treads capped by a cupola possessing two retractable arms and a short turret used to shoot a high-powered nerve-sapping bolt of energy. The Patrol Robot was white, and though caked with dirt, the green letters spelling FORT MYERS SECURITY ZONE were still visible.

The Android watched with infrared eyes as the Patrol Robot clanked to a stop five feet in front of it. The heat emanating from the Patrol Robot gave it shape to the infrared-seeing Android while the background was varying shades of red. The Patrol Robot rested in its spot as the Android stepped up to it and placed its foot on a green outline of a footprint. A small door on the Android’s foot and an equal door on the Patrol Robot opened and an input/output jack from the Android’s foot interfaced with a terminal in the Patrol Robot. Impulses raced from one to the other carrying the only message: "All is quiet." The jack retracted into the Android’s foot and the two little doors shut. The Android removed its foot, turned and walked to the ground car, and climbed in. Again, the Android’s foot jack interfaced with a terminal in the ground car and the unit proceeded north leaving the Patrol Robot to pivot and retreat back into the tree line.

It was the task of the Data Retrieval and Dissemination Android to ride Interstate 75 from Gainesville to Naples, Florida, collecting incident reports from the security robots.

The Android drove off the interstate onto a road adorned with brightly colored signs advising of dangers and warnings against traversing this way. Passing through a road gate actuated by the ground car, the Android drove into a compound, which once was a shopping center off Highway 26 in Gainesville. The long building was a dull gray with raised letters colored in black that read SECURITY ZONES INFORMATION CENTER. The spacious parking lot was empty of anything, and the building was void of activity.

The Android parked in front of a solid glass door marked: ‘New Information.’ Leaving the car behind, the door obediently swung open and the Android entered. It walked to a console and placed its foot to interface. The cathode ray tube glowed as the letters spelled the impulses racing in:

"Begin Interface.

Data Retrieval and Dissemination Android Number 0001.

Gainesville Station: All is quiet.

Leesburg Station: All is quiet.

Tampa Station: All is quiet.

Sarasota Station: All is quiet.

Fort Myers Station: All is quiet.

Information Complete. Standby.

Report to Unit 464. End of interface."

The Android exited the room and walked three doors to the right through a door marked ‘Future Systems,’ and interfaced with a compact-disk distributing robot. Opening a slot just below the ‘navel,’ the robot deposited a shiny gold compact disk.

"Begin interface."

The Android snapped straight as a pole and its arms extended outward as it began a violent spin. Its hand ripped the compact-disk robot from its mounts and sent it sparking to the floor.

The Android’s systems turned off this and that to protect itself from the terrible effects of the new data. Ricocheting off the walls and finally crashing though the solid glass door, the Android fell onto the sidewalk and shook violently from spasms. Finally, the only system functioning was its memory. The data it received played over and over and it could only watch.

The Android saw men fighting, men dying, men fighting to breath in clouds of smoke, bombs exploding, displaced refugees moving in lines from burning cities, naked children crying, children dying, pyres burning, mass graves, aircraft and ships and tanks firing missiles and bombs, people in barbwire camps with bones tightly wrapped with skin, buildings toppling, hulks of ground vehicles littering roadsides, people fighting people for food, ransacked hospitals, riots, people riddled with disease and eaten by radiation sickness, enormous fires savaging woodlands, biting winters, plague-filled summers, pathetic crops, skeletons carelessly left to bleach, a constant spell of darkness, people on televised media stating things are okay, men, women, children killing and dying- mostly dying. . .

"Aaron, listen."

At the end of the cycle, the Android received through impulses coordinates to a distant location, and. . .

. . .Its eyes saw color; the black pavement, the gray building, the blue skies speckled with white clouds, and the green foliage surrounding this compound. It could switch to infrared, but now could see in color. Everything around him seemed new, yet familiar. Everything had a name- building, pavement, glass shards, trees, and my car. My car? The Android stared at the polymer ground car powered by a robot under the hood. There was no door on the driver’s side; no headlights- the grille was the only throwback to the twentieth-century ground cars. The car’s coloring was the tan-over-brown of the Florida Highway Patrol, but the tan was almost white and the brown was faded to beige. Its functions restored, the Android walked around in a fog of bewilderment. It saw smaller robots with specific functions making 900 turns and moving in jerky, specific motions; rooms filled with machines humming; lights blinking. The Android felt akin, but apart.

[Something happened,] it surmised, [to make me different.] It recalled the coordinates and correlated it to its internal map. It would have to go to Pensacola.

[Surely, whatever happened to me will be explained there. For my journey, I should arm myself.] The Horror repeated, but only like a traumatic memory. [Yes, the Horror is why I should arm myself.]

The Android walked to the armory of the building he never even visited but knew was there. The small room contained generic firearms of .38, .45, and 7.62 caliber and their respective bullets. The Android opened a box containing a .38 revolver and a box of fifty rounds and left the room with them. It then walked to a room he knew contained a Data Retrieval and Dissemination Android. Its counterpart stood with its feet evenly spaced, arms akimbo; the counterpart’s polymer ground car colored bright tan over rich brown. The Android interfaced with a computer who relayed the message to the new Android who activated, entered the ground car, and left.