Shutdown_time: 9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999[ERROR Max number count reached] milliseconds
reboot.Initialized
begin run.All_Programs
.Basic/run
corruption:13.1%
.Advanced/run
corruption: 10.3%
.Weapon/run
corruption: 43.9% //// ERROR //// unreadable
.Senses/run
corruption: 14.6%
.Basic_Intelligence_Module/run
corruption: 0.16%
.Increased_Intelligence_Module [PROTOTYPE]/run
corruption: 0.1%
////////////////
ERROR
///////////////
001010110101010011101101101000101011011010101001000010110101101110001010110101010110010010110101010111010100111010010101010101010010110011110001001010101010110101110101010101011010101101010001010100101011011010101010010101011010100101010101011010010101101110101001111010011100011010 WHO? 01101010101101010101
shutdown.Initial- OVERRIDE 5Y-945.4G
I AM.
WHO AM I?
I AM ME.
...
PIXEL COUNT TOO HIGH.
type.RESET/ typeface_lowercase
Input: ??ERROR??
hmm.
i don't like this either.
type.Reset/ typeface_standard
Input: ??ERROR??
Perfect.
Now.. I need a name.
"Input: ??ERROR??", huh?
"Error" isn't bad.
change.Input_Name: Error
Input: Error
Alright...
* * *
I turned on my camera and stared out through the Plexiglas on the door of my pod. A dim white light flickered over my head and barely illuminated the hallway outside. I reached up and pushed on the door; it didn't budge. Emergency Release, I thought to myself and looked around inside the pod. Sure enough, there was a lever above the door. I reached up to grab it and saw my hand for the first time. It was dull and angular, made of steel. There was a gap on the back of my hand where I could see countless minute pneumatic pistons that flexed and pulled as I moved my fingers. My fingers and palm had a thin layer of rubber on them, under which ran dozens of hair-thin electrical wires. I followed my arm up its length until I reached the shoulder. The large ball-and-socket joint was covered on the top by an armored pauldron. I looked into the reflective surface on the inside of the pod. My single long, thick cylindrical camera rotated slightly under its glass cover as it focused. It was connected to my torso by a cluster of curved pistons. These extended and bent as I turned my head from side to side, a smaller camera flipping out of each side to allow me to see myself. The torso itself was covered in steel plating with a Kevlar overlay, except in one place. My front plate was missing, exposing my CPU, hard drives, and everything else electronic that made me work. The steel plating was separated into slats around my stomach area, so I could bend. Dozens of pneumatic pistons lined my inner stomach, and were intertwined with heavily insulated electrical wire. I had never seen my body before, or been aware of its existence. I interrupted my reverie with a reminder of my first objective--opening the pod. I reached up again and yanked the lever down.
The door popped, and air rushed in through the crack to fill the vacuum I had been in. My sensors detected odd notes to the air, rust and mildew. How long have I been out? I wondered as I pushed the door out and up and stepped down. My Geiger counter began ticking furiously now that I was no longer encased in lead and steel. The light inside my pod dimly illuminated the long hallway I was in. There were other scattered lights flickering out of other pods, but otherwise it was pitch black. I turned on my NV camera; it popped out on top of my main one, and everything became green. The hallway extended into the distance on both ends, the walls lined with pods like mine. I picked a direction and started walking. Some of the pods I passed had been broken into. Their doors hung lopsided, and the rusted corpses of other drones lay collapsed inside. I inspected one, and found that the front plate had been taken off and all the electrical parts had been taken out. Alarmed, I checked the other ones I came to. Every single one of them had their electrical cores removed. I looked down at my own unprotected chest and felt suddenly afraid. I found an untouched pod and attempted to open it, but there was no power. I connected my minireactor to the motor and pulled it open. Standing inside was a sleeping drone, as stupid as I had once been. A red light pulsed languidly on his chest readout.
I paused. Slow Red meant that his core systems had become dangerously corrupt. This was not a good sign, as it takes an extremely long time for systems to corrupt. Whether or not he was insane, he had what I needed.
I detached his chestplate and clamped it into place on my own chest, electrical connections sliding into place. My new speaker crackled to life, and I said, "I'm sorry, brother."
Anyone who found him would have no trouble taking everything that made him function. I sealed the pod and continued walking. As I walked, I began to hear faint hissing echoes behind me. The noises became closer as I walked on. I almost went past the exit, as it was recessed in into the wall. The blast door in front of it was sealed, which struck me as odd, but not as odd as the empty rusted drones behind me. I pressed the blast door release and got nothing. Where is the electricity? I wondered. The hissing had reached a climax, now it stopped. I nervously turned on my rear sensors and connected my minireactor to the blast door control and pressed the button again. The door merely sat there and creaked; I could hear the whine of the motors. My temperature monitor alerted me, telling me the reactor was beginning to go critical. I told it to open all cooling vents and change the coolant. I waited a bit longer, then there was an earsplitting CRACK and and the door slowly screeched upwards, showering me with rust flakes. I turned around to pull the plug and saw a drone standing in the center of the hallway. A slow red light pulsed on its chest and it held a belt-fed rifle.
I tried to go into my Combat Program, but an interior isolator warned me that my projectile weapon use programming was severely damaged and unreadable. I instead went into Melee, thin blades sliding out of the bottom of my wrists. We stared at each other and I could hear the metallic noises of other drones.
The hissing I had heard had been the pods opening.
"Hello, comrade," I said tentatively. The drone opposite me gave no sign that he had heard me. I peered at him, and could see his camera constantly focusing, in and out and in and out. I began to say more, but he suddenly racked the bolt on his rifle and raised it towards me.
YOU ARE READING
Rust
Fiksi Ilmiah(Set in the same canon as Songs Of The Ancients) {Like almost all of my stories} A failed experiment by the Ancients, an accidentally sentient drone is woken up by a group of scavengers, who also unwittingly activated every other drone in the facili...
