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by Kotaro
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Sci-fi · #2329735
Things go wrong.
Robocop Prototype


“Scandy, the boss wants to talk to you.”

Frowning, Scandy laid his cup full of coffee on his desk, put his hands behind his head, took a deep breath, rose, and headed to Captain Henderson’s office.

As soon as Scandy stepped through the open door, Henderson motioned to close it.

“Sit down. I’ve got good news for you. I’m giving you a partner.”

“I don’t want one, and I don’t need one.”

“You need to get over what happened to Yagami. Everyone needs a partner. His name is Robert. He’s waiting for you in the basement garage.”

Scandy thought of something to say. He refrained and left for the garage.

He stepped out of the elevator, and looked for his new partner. Seeing no one, he yelled, “Robert, come out.”

They was the screech of tires on concrete. A huge black SUV with strobing red lights and police in large letters on its side rounded a corner. Scandy took a step back as it stopped next to him. The door slid open.

“Robert at your service, sir. Hop in Detective Larson.”

He recognized the assuring tone used by salespeople. He paused, for no one was inside.

“I’m a third generation prototype, tested in every kind of situation imaginable which I passed beyond expectations. I’m the future of law enforcement programmed to protect and serve law abiding citizens.”

A bead of sweat rolled down Scandy’s face.

The interior lit up. Robert switch to a cheerful and encouraging tone. “Grab a seat and let’s go catch some criminals.”

Gritting his teeth and shaking his head, Scandy eased himself into one of the two bucket seats. Inside, he noticed there was no steering wheel, a thick plate of glass behind the seats, and a monitor that spanned what should be the wind screen.

“I know what you’re feeling. It’ll take some time getting used to, so try to relax and trust me.”

“I’ve always wondered how an A.I. could understand feelings when you don’t have any.”

“Sir, what are feelings? Can you explain what they are without using the word feel? I don’t think you can without mentioning chemicals that affect the neurons in your brain. Neurons that react to electrons. My circuits also react to electrons though much faster than your neurons. So, I have something similar to feelings that force me to react in a certain way, just as events force you to react.”

“So, to you, we’re different yet similar.”

“You summed it up in five words! Excellent, sir.”

Scandy rubbed his neck. “So, what’s the program for today?”

“We’re going to patrol the highway for speedsters.”

“Sounds like nothing could go wrong, doesn’t it?”

“As I said, I’ve been tested in every situation. Yet, Captain Henderson is unnecessarily cautious.”

“Yeah, your performance may have a big effect on his career.”

They eased onto the freeway, switched to the fast lane, and sped past the slower traffic. Robert weaved smoothly on the lanes, as Scandy kept pushing his right foot on the floor.

“Hey, what’s the big rush?”

“To show the presence of the police deters crime.”

“I meant slow down.”

“I’ve detected a vehicle going twenty miles over the speed limit.”

“Okay, pull them over.”

Robert accelerated and lit up the red lights above. Soon, the car in front pulled over to the shoulder of the highway.

Scandy got out. “I’ll handle this.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Scandy returned after talking to the driver.

Robert resumed driving. “There’s no data that a speeding ticket was given.”

“I just gave them a warning.”

“The law requires giving a ticket. I’ll have to include that in my report.”

“Don’t you have a desire to be liked? Police work is easier when people are cooperative.”

Scandy waited for a response. When none was given, he grunted and leaned back into his seat.

The rest of the day was uneventful. When Scandy returned to H.Q., the desk sergeant told him to see Captain Henderson. Just what he wanted to do, for he was already tired of his partner.

The Captain’s door was open. “Here, I am.”

“Take a seat and close the door.”

“I assume you’ve read Robert’s report. Do you need to hear my side of the story?”

“No, I understand. And, thanks for your calm reaction. Anything else I need to know?”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this. I don’t think it’s flexible enough for real life situations.”

“Scandy, I gave him to you cause you’re the best I’ve got. It’s something none of us has experience handling, so be on your toes.”

“Thanks, kind of.”

The next afternoon, on the same highway, Robert picked up an alert. “There’s been a robbery at a jewelry shop. Three suspects wearing hockey masks escaped in a red four door sedan.”

“They’re likely to change vehicles, so be alert for any suspicious cars.”

Half an hour later, Robert sensed one.

“There’s a van up ahead with four adults inside.”

“The windows are coated. How can you tell there are four adults?”

“Heat signatures from my infra red sensors. Sir, if we get closer, I can get a picture of the contents inside through the windows with my radar.”

“Okay, approach from the side.”

Robert accelerated and pulled even. The windows of the van slid down. Men with masks opened fire with automatic weapons. Bullets ricocheted off from sparks on the SUV. Robert braked and pulled into the van’s lane.

“Activating twenty millimeter cannons.” The top of both fenders opened.

“What…?”

The thud, thud, thud of the cannons was soon followed by the boom of explosions. The rear of the van burst into flames.

Scandy shouted, “Cease fire.”

Bellowing smoke, the van slowed to a crawl then stopped.

Scandy got out with his pistol in hand. The side door of the van slid open. A man dropped out. Blood was gushing out of a handless wrist. Scandy looked into the van. The other three were dead.

He yelled, “One is still alive. Call for an ambulance.” He knelt, undid a shoelace, and tied it around the injured man’s wrist. By then, the man was unconscious.

After the ambulance took the man away, Scandy got into the SUV. “Robert, I order you not to use your weapons unless I say you may. You got that?”

“Yes, Detective Larson. Do you feel I made a wrong decision?”

“I feel we could have had a less lethal result.”

“When a lion pounces on a rabbit it uses all its strength.”

“Are you quoting that from some medieval East Asian general?”

“Yes, a Chinese general.”

“Forget about military philosophy. We’re not at war. And, I don't want to hear any more of your excuses.”

Scandy heard static, but didn’t think anything of it.

They drove in silence until sundown when Robert spoke, “Inferno G has been spotted.”

“Let me confirm that at H.Q.”

“47th precinct.”

“Sarge. This is Scandy. Who’s Inferno G?”

“How’s your partner?”

“Like your wife, not really alive. Now, answer my question.”

“He’s one nasty character; a terrorist notorious for using a flamethrower on his victims.”

“What does the G stand for?”

“He wears a g-string?”

“Thanks.”

“Okay, Robert, let’s find this Inferno G.”

Robert did a U- turn and accelerated.

“Where are we going?”

“A camera at the Nissan offloading pier and my face recognition software containing all known criminals identified him. He got into one of the cars and I’m following it using all the cameras in the city.”

“Good thinking. Let’s nail this guy.”

“He also has a hostage.”

“Great.”

“I detect a tone of irony, sir. So, your comment will not be included in my report.”

“Great.”

“A camera 300 yards from here just saw him. There it is. That white sedan.”

The sedan accelerated. “He’s seen us! Use your infra red camera to confirm the hostage is still with him.”

Robert got to within 50 yards. “I see two bodies. One is lying on the back seat. Appears to be a woman.”

“Wait for my okay before using your weapons.”

“Yes, sir.”

The sedan braked to a stop. A man got out, opened the back door, grabbed the victim, and pulled her out. Then, he reached into the car, pulled out a flame thrower, and put it on.

Robert folded the hood and a Gatling rose out.

Inferno G walked out from behind the car as he dragged his hostage beside him. He laughed, aimed the flame thrower, and pulled the trigger.

A jet of napalm hit the SUV and engulfed it in flames. Inside, the front monitor flickered then went dark. The Gatling spewed bullets then the engine exploded.

Scandy dived out, rolled away, and pulled out his gun. Two bodies were lying on the street burning. Rushing to them, he saw they were beyond help. He turned around and approached the SUV.

“You hunk of shit!”

The cannons came out. “You’ll pay for this, Inferno G.”


About 1500 words







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