Realm Wars

Chapter 2

36 HOURS EARLIER

Humans are illogical creatures. While they spend most of their waking hours at a job,  the majority of their efforts are spent avoiding the work they came to do. Coffee breaks, smoke breaks, lunch breaks, afternoon walks, and bathroom breaks were just a few daily excuses used to evade the office. This list did not include birthday parties, company picnics, and office morale events, which seemed to occur at monthly rates. Considering how inefficient organics were when they actually did their tasks, it was remarkable that they accomplished anything. The fact that they managed to become the dominant organism in the galaxy defied logic.

MTHR sped down the hall contemplating this paradox.

Clones and colonists from various organizations filled the walkways. Some chatted, while others reviewed holopads. The hoverton weaved past each obstacle like a hoverbike in traffic. Only one item remained on the daily checklist and the automaton was determined to accomplish it. If completed by the end of business, the machine would receive a ninety-seven percent efficiency rating for the week. As MTHR turned the corner, a blinking light flashed on its internal communications display, indicating an incoming holo-message.

The machine paused, hovering in the air as it processed the information.

The subject line read:

LEVEL 1 PRIORITY

When the machine opened the message, its motivator thrust into overdrive. According to the report, dig site four just went under full lockdown. As a level one priority, company protocol required the nearest admin-drone to assist the on-duty officer. The nav-display confirmed that MTHR was closest to the executive suite. This was problematic. The machine would have to postpone its current task, in order to facilitate emergency actions. MTHR helicoptered back and forth, weighing out the options. The call could take hours to complete, ruining any chance it had at achieving a ninety-seven percent productivity score. However, if the admin-drone passed the task to another automaton, the machine's impeccable compliance record would be tarnished.

After a micro moment of calculation, the hoverton concluded that accepting the priority call held the highest probability of resulting in the most ideal outcome. Perhaps the executive would not require any assistance at all, in which case MTHR would be awarded participation points just for fielding the call. In any event, the admin-drone still had half the day to complete the other task.

"Affirmation: There is always time for one more task."

MTHR spun around 180 degrees and raced back down the hallway.

On the way to the executive suite, the admin-drone listed likely causes for the lockdown. According to incident logs, despite occasional spiderbat infestations, nothing of significance had been reported near or around the dig sites since their inception. Nevertheless, unauthorized access could trigger an alarm. So would a major equipment malfunction. Fire drills could also activate a lockdown. Yes. Statistics favored this hypothesis by seventeen percent. The company often ran tests to gauge how personnel responded in emergency situations. Months had passed since the last drill, therefore it seemed reasonable that leadership had executed another one. MTHR agreed with the concept of test runs. They provided opportunities to improve overall efficiency, which in turn bolstered unity productivity. Better metrics resulted in more funding. More funding resulted in new upgrades for administrative assets such as MTHR. The machine could use a new motivator. The current device made a tick-tocking noise while in hover-mode.

As the automaton approached the doorway, its audio receptors identified two voices arguing.

"We can't reactivate the portal," one voice said.

"That does sound like a problem," the other replied.

Mother slipped through the entryway and hovered toward the executive's desk.

"Those envirosuits only hold so much oxygen. If we don't fix the slide screen soon, they could die."

Coolant trickled through MTHR's components as it replayed the last words back through its processor.

Trapped?

Die?

This was not a drill.