Mors Fortunae

Drowning. Can’t breathe. Someone screaming, muffled by the water. Can’t get out. Buckled in, need to unbuckle. Water all over, need another breath. Trying to get, I can’t get, out of the water. An incessant beeping. Turn it off, turn it off! Turn it off!
He woke up; sweat plastering him, and sticking the sheets to his pale white body. His alarm was going off at a high and annoying tone. His hand slapped down onto the snooze button and he rolled back over into bed. A few minutes later his alarm went off again. You’re going to be late for work, you’re going to be late for work, it beeped at him.
This time he got up, aware of the morning. He clicked off the alarm. His room was quaint and small. It had only one bed, but it was easily put away, folding into a small cube of leather. He got up and went into his walk in closet. “Identity confirmed” the closet said to him, “what suit do you want?” What a joke, he only had two suits, one for when he met with his fiancée and the other for work. He wanted the usual, his work outfit. The closet let out its little mechanical hands as it dressed him. He left the closet, brushing his dirty blonde hair to the side of his head, and walked over to his dresser.
Opening it, he surveyed his choices. Today he decided to go small, tucking two pistols into holsters, then connecting them to his belt. He knew that later he might regret the choice, but he was meeting Natalie tonight and didn’t want to be too overloaded.
He remembered the last time he had been too overloaded. He looked like one of the G. I. Joe’s from the past, with at least twenty different types of guns strapped to his suit. Natalie had been so embarrassed. She didn’t mind dating a cop, but she was shy and didn’t like unneeded attention. When he was overloaded, he drew plenty of attention.
The alarm went off again. What the heck? He had turned that off. The clock’s mechanical face smiled, not a real emotion, only evoking the look. “Sorry sir, but I am reminding you that you are three minutes late” it said, its mechanical jaw meshing up and down.
Three minutes big deal. His boss never got into work until ten after. He went over to his Renegade. It was a top of the line teleporter, which meant he got to pick the color and it teleported in thirty seconds, which was a plus from the job. It was faster than a civilian Renegade, which took a minute to teleport. It looked like a normal one person couch, yet the left arm opened up, so that you could put in your destination. He could go anywhere too, no place was restricted to him, another plus from the job.
It had always puzzled him. They had top of the line gear and awesome computers, but ever since 2020, they hadn’t upgraded any weapons. They still had the same old weapons which had to be reloaded by hand, for crying out loud. It was because of that stupid law, something like, let’s have world peace. He got into his Renegade and pressed the button.
He arrived at the center and stepped out of the Renegade. Each Renegade was hooked up to another Renegade, so you could travel anywhere and in under a minute too. The large logo of his job was emblazoned on the floor. New York Police, Keeping the Community Together. It was true; they settled almost all of the disputes that were brought up. Entering the high security area was always a pain. If you remembered your password then the computer usually didn’t work, and when it did work, you usually couldn’t remember the password. He hated technology like that.
He punched in his name and password, and surprisingly, entered the high security area on the first try. He got to his desk where a message was already posted to his computer. He had his assignment.
It told him that something had been stolen from Microlsoft. Whoever had stolen something from there had to be really good. It was impossible for anyone to penetrate Microlsoft’s defenses, online or reality. He had no leads and no suspects.
He loved jobs like this.
A few minutes later he was standing in the lobby of Microlsoft. It once was a small company, but was huge now. The only computer company left, as it had bought out all the other ones. He stood there waiting for the secretary to get off the phone. It took her long enough, but finally she got off.
“I’m here because of the call I got concerning-“
She cut him off with a wave of her hand.
“Hold on Mr-”
“Hunter, ma’am. Mr. Hunter.”
“Hold on Mr. Hunter.”
She picked up the phone again. It seemed like everyone wanted to call. It took her two hours to get off the phone. She was probably stalling, trying to get him to leave. He had time to spare; this was his only job for the day.
“Now, what do want Mr. Hunter?”
She seemed slightly ticked that he hadn’t left while she was on the phone.
“I’m with the New York Police and I’m here concerning the call about stolen property.”
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry that I made you wait. If you had told me-”
“Never mind, just tell me what elevator to take.”

She did and he was on his way. He got to the office assigned to the case and he went in. A small, nervous man was sitting in a chair, wringing a pair of greasy hands. His tie was all wrinkled and bent. It looked like he hadn’t shaved for a while either. Whatever the problem was, it was messing this man up a lot. He stood and offered a hand to shake, but Hunter just waved a hand at him to indicate no.
“Miles Hunter, I was assigned to the case.”
“I’m Bill Gartes, the owner of Microlsoft. One of our new products was stolen from our warehouses last night.”
Hunter took out a Palmy Deluxe and asked, “Do you know what was stolen.”
Bill wrung his hands again. He seemed nervous.
“It was a prototype of a new, uh, thing we are working on,” it sounded like he didn’t want to reveal too much.
Hunter jotted that down.
“A prototype of what?”
“We call it Fortune, since if it sells, that’s what we’ll make,” he gave off a nervous chuckle before continuing, “It’s the prototype of a cyborg, which we are trying to invent.”
Hunter looked up. This would be news for the police.
“Why a cyborg?”
Bill launched into advertising mode. “The cyborg is initially built so you can bring the computer anywhere with you. Also it can be a bodyguard. It is just like a normal person, but is a machine.”
“So the only point of it is as a bodyguard, since we can already bring our computers where ever we want,” said Hunter, indicating his watch.
“Well, we are still working on it,” Bill replied angrily.
“Okay, okay, no hard feelings, I just need a description of what the-uh-cyborg looks like. It is in the shape of a human right?”
“Uh-yes,” Bill said hesitantly.
“It isn’t?” Hunter grilled.
“Well, it is but, it can change to look like any human.”
Oh great, that made things difficult. Hunter jotted down that note and rose from the chair he was sitting in.
“I will work on your case. Good day Mr. Gartes.”
He left the room before Bill could say anything. He would send in the report for one of the other policemen to file. He had to go meet Natalie.

He woke up. The same dream about drowning had haunted his night. He got up and turned off the beeping alarm. He went into the closet. “Identity confirmed” the closet said to him, “what suit do you want?” The usual, his work outfit. The closet let out its little mechanical hands as it dressed him. He left the closet and walked over to his dresser.
Opening it, he surveyed his choices. He decided to go small, tucking two pistols into his belt. He was meeting Natalie again tonight and as before, he didn’t want to look too overloaded. The alarm went off again. What the heck? He had turned it off. The clock’s mechanical face smiled, not a real emotion, only evoking the look. “Sorry sir, but I am reminding you that you are three minutes late” it said, its mechanical jaw meshing up and down.
Three minutes, big deal. He went into his Renegade and hit the button. He arrived at his work. Going to his office, he checked the computer. There was a new lead on the Microlsoft case. Apparently, a robotic-police had tagged Fortune the cyborg.
For a cyborg, it wasn’t smart if it was already tagged, and had only been free a few days. Apparently, it had stolen a car and raced it down Freudian Ave. before crashing and being tagged by the robotic police. He hated robots; they were always causing problems or were a problem.
He downloaded the tag number and borrowed a car. It was nice and sleek, with two red stripes running across the blue body. Double seated, for a partner or a convict. And it was fast, really fast.
He put the car into gear and braked as he almost hit the roof. The cop cars were able to go horizontally and vertically and it was sort of confusing, which clutch controlled which direction. He sped out into the sky, leaving sonic waves behind. It took two minutes to get where Fortune was located.
He jumped out of the car and walked into the huge warehouse that the signal was emanating from. It had a metallic layering that made it look new but the metal was from the 1900s. Inside were boxes, labeled: warning, radioactive. It must have been an old warehouse since radioactivity wasn’t a problem anymore.
“Hello?”
“Hello, it’s nice to see you.”
He turned around. Bill Gartes was standing in front of him.
“Hi, Fortune.”
“How’d you know?”
The cyborg shifted into its normal look. It almost looked human.
“We got you tagged back at the station.”
“Ah yes. Now I suppose you want to bring me back.”
“That would be about right.”
Hunter grabbed Fortune by the shoulder, but she twisted and sprang away with one of Hunter’s pistols in her hand. She opened a panel on her front and pulled out a wire. She plugged it into the gun. She fiddled around with it a bit, under the watchful eye of Hunter, and then stuck a battery where the bullets used to be loaded. She smiled.
“I now have a gun that doesn’t need to be reloaded. Better start running.”
She fired at him, but he dove to the side in time. He slammed a cartridge into his other gun and sent a burst of bullets where she was. She leapt up into the ceiling rafters. He ran through the boxes, avoiding her clipping bullets, which were more like energy rays. He dove under a box and sat there, listening.
“You can’t hide,” she called out.
He lifted his gun up to chest level and rolled out from underneath the box. He ended up on one knee, his gun pointing up. He fired and the bullet cut through the wooden rafter that Fortune was on. It cracked underneath her metallic weight and she plummeted to the ground, where she landed with a thud. A plume of dirt rose around, as the dirt on the floor was shaken into the air from her spastic movements.
He slowly rose to his feet and took a few cautious steps towards her. An evil gleam was apparent in her eyes when her head spun to him. Too late, he realized he was too close. He took a flying leap and rolled under a stack of crates, as her bullet ripped through them over his head.
He snuck out from underneath the box and shuffled around until he saw her. Her back was toward him. He raised his gun, his hands slightly shaking. She turned.
“Found you!”
They both fired. She got out of the way but her bullet hit him in the chest. It smacked him backwards, but didn’t pierce the skin, just fizzled on his chest. His mouth dropped open in surprise, to still be breathing and not bleeding, but then he smiled.
“I guess your bullets don’t work on me.”
“Oh but they do,” she replied wickedly.
He felt a cold sensation run through his body. He tried to raise his gun, but his hands didn’t respond. He cried out in anger as his entire body went numb, starting from where her bullet had hit him. He fell to the ground, unable to move anything.
“I wasn’t about to kill you, I don’t like to just straight out kill people. I like to hurt them in the process. A lot.”
The robot was definitely short-wired. He was carried out to the car and just slightly aware that he still held the gun in his hand. She buckled him into the passenger side and tore off the clutches to control the steering. She looked out at the sea. The warehouse was right on it, offering a beautiful view. In her powerful hand, she lifted up the car and tossed it into the water, laughing.
He felt himself sinking, deeper and deeper. Someone was screaming, oh wait, he was. Bubbles streamed from his nose as his breath was slowly being exhausted. His consciousness slowly was regained. He realized that he was drowning. He tore at the seatbelt. Carefully making sure he didn’t drop the gun. It was stuck. He pointed his gun at the seatbelt fastener, praying it would work underwater. He pulled the trigger. It stalled. More bubbles escaped his mouth. He pulled the trigger again and the bullet hit the fastener, breaking it. He swam towards the surface, his lungs bursting.
He came out of the water and gulped a big breath. He went back under. Swimming quickly, he got near the shore. He burst out swinging his gun. Fortune still stood on the shore. He fired, punching a slug into her abdomen. She doubled over from the impact and he sent another slug into her head. Her wires short circuited. Her hand swung up and her gun fired. His reflexes took over as he dove out of the way.
He hated robots. They never died when you wanted them too. He pulled the trigger again, punching another slug into her leg. She dove at him and he rolled out of the way. Two more slugs punched into her and one hit the control node, inside her chest.
“Shutting down,” she said in a slurry robotic voice.
Her lights went out and she fell to the ground.
“And finally, the death of Fortune.”
Her hand twitched. Not being one to test Fortune or fortune, he tossed the limp body into the sea. Hopefully the water would corrode all of the circuits so there was no chance of her powering up again. He checked his watch. He had to report back to the station and then Bill. If he didn’t hurry, he would be late meeting Natalie.

The news of Fortune’s destruction had obviously reached the ears of Bill Gartes. He didn’t look happy when Hunter walked into his office.
“Look here, I asked for your help to capture Fortune, not destroy it! I could have had my own men destroy it when she got loose!”
An angry look crossed Hunter’s face.
“You knew? And you didn’t tell me?”
“Of course I knew Fortune got out of hand! How do you think she got away in the first place? Politely asked to be let out of her cell?” Bill asked sarcastically.
Hunter had to stop and take a few deep breaths to control his temper and avoid hitting the little man.
“Then why did you contact the police? You could have taken care of the problem and never gotten the legal problems you will be getting.” he said through clenched teeth.
“My own hunters failed, and I wanted to try you guys out. I wouldn’t have if I knew you were going to destroy her!”
Hunter’s anger was apparent when he stood.
“I did destroy it and good riddance. Case closed.”
“I could press charges for your frivolous disregard of my company’s property.”
“No you couldn’t. I was acting under legal jurisdictions, since the robot refused to go with me willingly and it fired on me first. Good luck with your case and good day, Mr. Gartes.”
Hunter left the office.
“Oh, it will be a good day,” Bill mumbled to himself, as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers straying to a concealed button.

Hunter jabbed at the button for the elevator several times. He needed to report all he knew to his boss. The elevator was taking forever and it didn’t help that his anger was raging through him. He leaned against the wall, tapping it with his fist. The door’s dinged and opened. He got off the wall and went to get in the elevator, but stopped.
Inside were robots, filling the elevator. Each was crudely wielding a weapon. Hunter’s hand slowly went for his gun.
“Looking for someone?” he asked.
All the robots turned their attention to him, their cold metallic faces shining.
“Voice confirmed, target acquired,” the foremost robot spat out.
One by one all the robot’s raised their weapons and pointed them at Hunter.
“Apparently you are, I’ll move out of your way,” he said, taking a step to the left, and then a flying dive, as the robots opened fire.