Robot Remembrance

Author's note: This story features a character that was introduced in Robot Amnesia. You are invited to acquaint yourself with him by reading his back story here on Vocal:

Robot Amnesia

Robot Remembrance

Bright red and yellow leaves swirled past me like sparks and licks of flame until a gust lofted them over the shallow valley before me. I watched them, willing my compact solar panels to absorb sunlight faster. Some leaves settled in the creek and were whisked downstream. More followed from the forest behind me. My environmental sensors signaled a reduction in temperature and a rise in barometric pressure, indicating my operating conditions would soon change.

The nearly bare trees dotting the slope below me, as well as the ascent beyond the stream, reminded me of another time. I remembered seeing this valley devoid of foliage. We and our enemies had blasted all the trees to pulp. We, the militia of the Midlands Independence League, and They, the tyrants I have not named since we drove them out twenty years ago in the wake of the collapse of the Republic. The woods around me sprang up from the mulch we left behind—of heartwood and sap, bone and blood, chassis and fuel.

I replaced my black book in my secure breast compartment and glanced at my aged analog battlefield map to confirm my location. I turned my back on the valley and studied the contours of Hill 529. Somewhere up there, rutting bucks clacked their antlers. But no, the rhythm echoed with a hollower tone than that of antlers striking each other. Perhaps it was a woodpecker drilling into one of the many—

"Hey soldier!" The voice came from my right, slightly above me. "Hold your fire. We're MIL—and we're coming out."

I activated my biometric sensors and detected two figures emerging from an evergreen thicket. My hand hovered near my holstered sidearm, but their heart rates were not elevated enough to cause concern. I alternated between infrared and visible light vision as the two approached me. Both wore camo. The man, tall for a human, measured over two meters, two thirds of my own height. He wielded a compound bow and had a lightweight H-model joule rifle slung on his back. The second figure, a mid-adolescent female, shouldered a rucksack and carried a brace of rabbits.

The man's angular face bore a curious expression. He raked his fingers through his short-cropped hair, glancing around me and up and down the hill. "Who are you, soldier, and what are you guarding? There's nothing here." He looked up at me, directly into my lenses, as though he could read my circuits.

"Model ANAK11000, Serial number BN-2062101779601, rank Sergeant," I replied with a glance at the puckered surface of my upper arm where an inferno round had narrowly missed me but had still burned off my insignia. "I am not guarding, Sir. I'm searching. May I ask who I am addressing, Sir?"

"I'm Major Freiburg. This is my daughter, Liberty."

"Sal, Major." I shifted my gaze to his daughter. "Miss Liberty."

"You can call me Libby," she said with a shy smile.

The Major nodded in acknowledgment of my verbal salute. "What's your handle, BN-2062—the rest of your numbers?"

"My operational name is 'Ben.'"

"Do you believe there are enemies watching us, Ben?"

Libby cocked her head, seemingly interested to hear my response.

"No, Major. I have seen no evidence that would lead me to conclude that. However, the verbal salute protocol was emphasized to us in training and especially immediately before deployment. 'Salutes signal snipers.' Do you prefer for me to give you a physical salute?"

"That's not necessary, Ben. I'm not faulting you. I just wanted your assessment of our current situation."

An unexpected multi-hued glint drew my gaze to the girl's neck, where she wore a titanium and copper heart-shaped locket.

"That's a lovely pendant, Libby," I said.

"Thank you. One of our machinists made it for my mother from pieces—" She ducked her head self-consciously. "—as a remembrance of the bot who saved her life."

The major's brow furrowed, and he again surveyed the valley. "If there's no enemy, why in blazes are you patrolling this hill?"

"Patrolling, Sir? I've just arrived." I gestured with the map I still held in my left hand. "My research indicates I may locate my twin, JN-2062011248501, on Hill 529. His operational name is Jon."

Major Freiburg shook his head. "If you haven't found him by now, you probably won't. At least, not enough to be recognizable or salvageable."

"I do not understand, Sir."

"My daughter and I have been monitoring you for two days, Ben. You've made at least three trips up into these woods, always returning here. Furthermore, I think you've been walking this beat for at least five months. One of our drones captured an image of you but couldn't stick around long enough to document your activities."

"Major? I don't see how that's possible. I only arrived this—"

"Look around, Ben. The vegetation is stomped dead all over this bluff. And the trail you take upward is a rut. That stone looks like it has a step worn into it. My guess is that you also made that trail downward to the south, but you don't go that way as often as you go up."

I couldn't deny the major's assertion. All the grass had been flattened, and the depressions in the soil indicated a 461.3 kilo robot had done the trampling. A narrowly missed wildflower swayed in the breeze beside one of my footprints.

"You're separated from your unit, Ben, and you've obviously somehow gotten stuck in a loop. I'm suspending your search and reassigning you to my command. Fall in, and we'll go back to Freetown."

"With respect Sir, I am compelled to locate my twinned unit. I can join you only after I have achieved that objective."

The major bristled. "Are you refusing to obey an order?"

"No, Major. I must—" Multiple processes collided in my mind, clashing like the invaders did with MIL defenders. Subroutines barked out data points that whistled past me like armor piercing rounds.

Major Freiburg's eyes narrowed as I struggled to answer his challenge.

The words came out mechanically, as though I were an early-model automaton. "I—have—to—find—Jon. He—needs—me."

"You can be decommissioned for bucking an order—is that what you want?" the major roared up at me.

"Dad, he just wants to find his friend. Can't he do that first?" Libby asked.

The major replied with a stern glance at his daughter, "Libby, this is a matter of military discipline. Let me handle it."

Undeterred, the teenager stepped forward and snapped to attention. "Sir, this cadet requests permission to speak freely."

"Not now, Libby," he said firmly. "We've got better than a five day hike. And this bot is malfunctioning. I need to get him to a—"

Somewhere on the hill, the woodpecker renewed its attack on a hollow trunk.

"Sir, this cadet insists." Libby moved between us. "Dad, please."

Major Freiburg exhaled forcefully, his glare softening. "What?"

"If we help him find his twin, then we'll have two more ANAK units. Isn't two better than one?"

The major gazed into his daughter's eyes, and I initiated internal diagnostics.

"Sir, you are correct. I was caught in a loop. I am isolating this reset point and encapsulating the recursive function that caused reiterative searches of this sector."

"Can you secure it? You're not going to lapse back into the loop?"

"Yes, Sir. That code segment is now marked Read-Only-Do-Not-Execute."

Major Freiburg pivoted and squinted into the boscage above us. "That can't be a woodpecker. It's too regular, like a coded message." He returned his gaze to me. "Decipher."

"It is Morse, Sir. It's repeating, 'Help me.'"

"Ben, who would be sending an audible distress signal from this hill?"

"My twin. Jon was last reported on Hill 529, Sir."

"How long have you been running that loop and walking this hill?"

I checked my system date, and a dreadful realization came over me. "Thirteen years and some days, Sir. May I have your permission to respond to the mayday? I know right where Jon is. I have found him over six thousand times. I need to reassure him I will indeed bring help—this time."

Author's note: The three meter tall robot Ben (BN-2062101779601) is also featured in the short story Robot Refuge. You are invited to continue reading about him here on Vocal. Follow this link:

Robot Refuge