Deep Black Road: The Head of the Snake

Chapter 7

It was night; and Ricky found himself in a dreary industrial park where old businesses had come to die.

His internal clock told him that it was 12:43 a.m.

It's late, he thought, but it's not like I've got to sleep, or eat, or go pee, or even recharge batteries.

I've gained some stuff; but what have I lost? Smell, taste, feelings. Yeah, feelings too. I don't get excited, or sad either. I took it all for granted before; but now all I've got is sight and hearing, and touch-which is still pretty iffy.

Why would anybody want to become robotic? Now that I've had some time to think about it, I'm not sure I want to be this way-not that I got to choose.

General Orkan made the choice; but he's dying.

Would the government really hunt up all the terminal cases out there and offer them new life as space robots? That sounds vaguely sinister.

Hmm. Maybe I can't be human anymore. ... Wait, that's not right. I'm still human-at least inside. My builder's convinced I'm just a robot; but that guy at death's door said I was supposed to live again. That would make me a robotic human; but what's that make everybody else?

Consulting a dictionary on the Network, then a thesaurus, he spent some time searching for the right word, and eventually settled on the obscure term 'carnate'-that is, made of flesh.

So maybe I'm not carnate anymore; but I can pretend, can't I? The last thing I want to lose is my friends and classmates. They're all I've got left. Anything else I can get off the Network and store in memory.

Okay now, let's try out these rockets.

Firing them up, he applied a gentle throttle and rose a few centimetres off the ground; but it was like walking on grease; so, with no reflexes to cushion the fall, he landed flat on his back in an instant. Recalling being in this position a long time before, he thought This is just like hoverblades! Yeah, rocket-blades!

Getting to his feet, he tried again, and was soon 'blading' freely around the deserted parking lot. Then, to see how flying felt, he launched himself up onto the roof of a nearby building.

"Niner three zero. We have a report of a thirty-five oh two in progress on Clairton Boulevard at Brownsville Road. Check it out."

"This is niner three zero. Thirty-five oh two on Clairton Boulevard at Brownsville Road. We copy."

Ricky then noticed a police vehicle passing on the street below, which sped away, lights flashing.

So that's the radio.

He checked the manual, and then scanned his radio's entire range, picking up more emergency channels, the mechanical thoughts of nearby robots operating through the night shift, and the global positioning system. He already knew how to access the Network from his time at school-that was his default channel.

Then he decided to give his rockets a real test, and shot into the sky.

As he circled the city, the street lights and building illuminations gave an ethereal glow to the place.

A bright point of light appeared off to one side, which was heading directly for him.

Oh-oh, he thought. What's that?

Since it was closing fast, he swerved sharply to his right in an attempt to get away from it. The object followed him exactly, however, so he went to full power to see if he could outrun the thing. It fell back a little; but just as he thought he could get away, he heard: