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17. Programmed Instincts

In spite of lying completely still and closing his eyes, Corby could not even get a brief moment of unconsciousness. Sleep refused to come to him.

The dark room with only the orange light coming through the exit's window reminded him of his stay at Samuel's house. They were kind people; if only he had stayed away from them. He should have just died of hypothermia so the Triumvirate would have no reason to keep looking for him. Maybe that would have been a better fate than what the future had in store for him.

He sat on the edge of the bed, turning on the lamp's light with a gentle touch of his finger. There was no way he'd get any sleep—at least not during that night. Getting up and putting his boots on, out the door he went.

Ora lay on the sand, constantly watching as Eyes remotely controlled pigeons. Informator observed all of the monitors, careful to not let any bits of information slip away unnoticed by his sensors. He swiftly turned around once he heard human footsteps from behind him. "What's the matter, fleshie? Can't even do one of the few things your species is good at? Sleep?"

Corby shot him a glare while stopping near him. "Why do you have to be such a scumbag and throw slurs at me all the time?"

"Oh, don't make me get the big guns!" Informator said while displaying his jack-o'-lantern evil grin in red. He pointed a claw at Corby. "You humans are a nasty plague on this planet. The natives barely got to enjoy two years of peace after their wars, then the Earth colonists arrived and decided to erase and replace a sapient species that lived under ground. Everyone was slaughtered! Adults, children, eggs … Only four automatons left to tell their story. So, tell me, do you prefer fleshie, or plague, or genocider, or perhaps pest?"

Corby frowned and mellowed down. Ora just watched him quietly.

Informator crossed his arms. "Yeah, I thought so. If it weren't for the explosion at Kimiatronica, you'd end up being a cyborg helping them out to destroy this planet and terrorize our kind. Consider yourself lucky that we allow you to hide and be safe here."

Corby shrugged. "So what do you want from me? You want an apology? For something I didn't do?"

"For something you didn't yet do. But no, that's not what I want. A simple 'Thank you,' would suffice."

Corby's eyes were back to looking threatening. "For what? Throwing insults at me?"

Informator face-palmed. "No, squishy brain! For offering you shelter!"

"Thanks," Corby said before walking away grumpily.

Informator's expression turned into a dark blue frown. "I'd like to be less bitter about you humans, but I just can't look at your species and ignore what you are capable of."

Corby was already too far away to hear more than the first half of what Informator said. He wandered the village aimlessly, passing by a lake similar to the one from the other village. At the end of the cave, he saw a large pool of lava that went along the wall all the way to the left side of the village. On the edge of the lava pool there were three cylindrical machines twice as tall as him, copper-colored, with four pipes on the side of each one going into the ground. They made a loud hum, but they didn't look like anything humans would have built. He assumed they were power generators, because the village's appliances had to get their electricity somehow.

A noise of a large walking entity distracted Corby. He looked behind himself and saw a bulky automaton that had mostly black armor with yellow stripes on the arms. On each of the automaton's lower arms there was a drill. Two yellow eyes glowed on the face of the machine. Other than those features, the automaton looked a lot like Milo, complete with the very mobile—but slightly more solid—ears.

The stranger approached Corby with the intention of interrogating him. His voice was gruff. "What's a human doin' here? Did Info let you in?" He extended his right arm's drilling part, the drill pointing menacingly at the young man's forehead.

Not really scared by the hostile display, Corby said, "Yes, he did. You can put that drill down; I'm not here to start a fight."

The automaton lowered his arm. "Who are you?"

"Just call me Corby. I'm not in the mood to discuss my past right now. I'm so tired ..."

The automaton lowered his ears. "Tired, huh? I can relate to that. You can call me Forest."

"How does a rob—automaton know what being tired feels like?"

"Hey, just because we don't have the exact same senses doesn't mean we can't be mentally exhausted. I feel like my mind just has no motivation to bother with trying to come up with solutions anymore. The world is a giant dumpster, and it's on fire. Only a matter o' time until we all go out in flames with it."

"That's exactly how I feel right now. But as soon as I try to go to sleep, I am kept awake by my mind telling me how much of a failure I am, and of how many people are suffering because of me, and of the fact that my abuser is still alive in this village and could be freed at any time."

"Hold on a sec'. Who's the abuser?"

Corby looked to his right, avoiding eye contact with Forest. "Ora. A stupid machine I've made the mistake of trusting. She went really far with trying to control me just so she could make sure I'd provide her with glow recharges whenever she wanted. Why can't I forget what happened that morning the same way I forget important stuff?" He closed his eyes and put his left hand over his stomach. "The nausea's coming back with those images in my mind. Ugh!"

"Wait, if she's as horrible as she sounds, what did Info see in her that he could put to use?"

"She can see the future. Inaccurately, but she has been right about some things. She helped me escape the city while the Triumvirate's forces were out to kill me."

Forest's ears perked up. "What did you do to piss them off to the point that they were trying to execute you?"

Corby finally got the courage to look into the miner's eyes. "You've heard about the explosion at Kimiatronica, right?"

"Are you behind that?"

"Hell no!" Corby said. "I'm a victim of that! The Triumvirate ordered the lab workers to overcharge the glowanade. My friend Matthew told them not to do it, but they went through with it. So now there isn't a refinery anymore, I got infected with class 9 glow, and Matthew got permanently silenced by the minotaurs." He stopped to rub the tears out of his eyes with his right sleeve. "Matthew and I tattooed the truth about the incident on each other's chest. We did it in case someone would find us dead. We wanted them to read what we wouldn't be able to tell them."

"What's the point of telling people this? Don't you see? They are complacent with how the Triumvirate is running things. Telling them about the way the government treated those who worked at Kimiatronica won't make a difference in their daily lives. A new refinery will be erected, and more people or robots will be brought to work in it."

"Do you think Matthew's parents don't miss him? Do you think my dad doesn't miss me? What about the family members of the other 80 or 84 people who lost their lives that day? Don't you think they miss those who died there? It could have been avoided. If the citizens learn about this, there's going to be an uproar. I'm sure of it."

"Corby, I hate to break it to you, but humans would rather accept the deaths of their loved ones and move on with their lives. I've spent three years watching the broadcasts from Info's pigeons. I've seen enough to not have high expectations when it comes to humans. Info believes he can inspire them to chip away at the Triumvirate's businesses and workforce. I say he's just a foolish optimist."

"At least he's doing something instead of accepting defeat," Corby said.

Forest threw his arms up. "We will never be able to capture the Hermes! Info's dream of freeing robots and taking them to space on a trip to find an uninhabited planet for us all is something he should just keep in the stories he wrote. It'll never happen. Believe me, I'd love to see things change, but they won't."

"Did you just say he wrote stories? I didn't know machines could do that."

"It's not that we can't, it's that there's no motivation for us to do so. He's only doing it because he was programmed to prioritize circulating information. It's his thing."

Corby watched as Forest started up his right drill. The automaton sunk it into the ground, leaving a hole after pulling his arm back.

"This is what I do when I get the urge to follow my programming," Forest said. Then he pointed at a rock near the lake. It had 25 holes made with the drill. "When the humans made us, they gave us this addiction to do the things they needed us to do. They hoped it would force us to remain their slaves. But Info found a loophole: he promised me I'd be allowed to drill as many holes as I wanted, and that I'd be free from human oppression."

Corby shrugged. "So, did you not receive what you were promised?"

"Well, temporarily I did receive what I was promised. But what happens when the Triumvirate expands its territory into the forest? They'll dig us up and destroy us. We're running out of time and we still can't defend ourselves. We barely managed to rescue two robots about five months ago. That only brings our numbers up to eleven if we count you and Ora."

"You have someone within the Triumvirate giving you vital information. You have a whole network of spy pigeons. You have a whole village full of alien technology all to yourselves. How can you not see the power this group has? I'm sure we could come up with a plan to safely increase our numbers and overthrow the Triumvirate."

Forest lowered his left ear. "Oh yeah? What do you think we could use that we haven't tried so far?"

Corby smiled. "Got any native tech lying around?"

With both ears lowered, Forest said, "Come with me."

Forest entered a house, Corby following right after him. Inside, on the cemented ground, a familiar triangular airplane rested on its three wheels—one for each corner of the machine.

"That airplane looks exactly like the design I found inside the computer in the other village!" Corby said.

Forest looked at him while lowering his left ear. "You managed to operate a native computer?"

"With some difficulty, but I did. I saw some designs I assume were made by the natives. I also saw a … video game? Then there was some kind of resource management program on that computer. I remember the resource usage spiked before I got knocked unconscious."

"Class 9 glow is dangerous to mammals," Forest said. "I'm surprised you're not dead yet."

"So am I," Corby said while looking at his right palm. "If it's going to kill me anyway, might as well put it to use." He brought out the violet glowanade wires and hooked them to the airplane.

The vehicle's engines started, and its three wheels folded underneath it, getting swallowed by its hatches. Then it lifted off, puppeteered by Corby's mind to fly through the room. He tried to avoid hitting the walls, but his control was slipping fast as his headache returned.

"You're going to get us both killed, kid!" Forest shouted, ducking out of the airplane's way.

"I'm trying to land it," Corby said through his clenched teeth. "I don't want to break it."

Forest knew he had to act quickly. He reached with his right hand toward Corby and brought out five yellow glowanade wires that hooked onto Corby's head. His arms' drills started rotating so fast they became blurry cones.

Corby panicked and almost dropped the plane, but resumed control of it as his headache lessened. The pain faded away as he gently caused the vehicle to unfold its wheels and land near the exit. He disconnected his violet wires from it.

"That's too much power," Forest said, retracting his wires out of Corby's brain. "I had to expend the energy through my drills and even eject some of it as heat, because my battery has already been filled."

Corby took a few steps back and stared at Forest with wide eyes. "I hope you won't go crazy on me like Ora did. I swear, if I'll have to deal with another machine invading my personal space, I'll just jump into the lava pit!"

"Calm down. I don't need your glow. No machine that is powered by it needs to consume more of it."

Corby squinted at him. "So you're saying Ora didn't even need me to recharge her?"

"Yep."

Corby's eyes glowed violet. "That disgusting little liar! When I get my hands on her, I'll—"

"It's just more difficult for those who have glow with low charge, because they feel like they're running out of battery. It is an addiction, but it can be overcome. The human-made machines weren't made for the glow, so it isn't surprising that it affects them differently."

As his eyes lost their glow, Corby took in deep breaths trying to water down the rage he had built up inside. "That's still no excuse for what she did to me! It's one thing to keep asking to leech off my energy, but the moment she tried to control me, that was the last straw."

"I think we should focus on something else. This isn't doing you any good. Maybe you'd like to hang out with our recent members Bob and Zeke. They're androids rescued from a surface job. I didn't care enough to listen to their story, but you might get along with them. They're more active than I am."

"Sure. Let's go see them. I can't get any sleep right now, so might as well get to know what kind of people I'll be dealing with."

Forest led Corby to a house near the lava lake. The automaton didn't even bother knocking; he just grabbed the door handle and let himself in, then gestured toward Corby to follow him.

The two androids sat at a table and played chess against each other. The set they were using was made entirely of plastic. One of the androids had short black hair while the other had a red mohawk. Both of them were made of black metal. The one with the short hair had eyes with a green glow while the other's were glowing yellow. On their foreheads, each android had a pair of bushy eyebrows.

"Oh, we finally get a human added to the family," the android with the red mohawk said. "Welcome, human!" He extended his right hand toward Corby. "I'm Zeke."

Corby shook it. "I'm Corby."

"And I'm Bob," the short-haired android said.

"So," Corby began, "how did you two end up here?"

"The people who live here sent the birds after us and warned us that we were going to get executed thanks to playboy over here," Bob said, pointing at Zeke. "We broke out of the factory and followed the pigeons, then we met up with one of the native automatons who opened up a hole in the wall at the edge of the city. The minotaurs almost caught us."

Zeke had a large grin on his face. "The Triumvirate cyborgs were pissed when they found out I f****d three out of five of their supervisor humans at parties every month. Why should humans have all the fun? We like to be social too."

Corby stared at him with wide eyes and mouth open.

Bob rolled his eyes. "That was a bit too social and unprofessional."

Zeke pointed at Bob. "He's fun at parties. The way he just dances there alone ..."

Bob scowled at him.

Corby asked, "What the hell was Bohr thinking when coding robots to do such things with humans?"

Zeke raised his left eyebrow at him. "Bohr isn't behind all the stuff we do. We were given the ability to decide how we accomplish our tasks. I was given the task of making sure we work as a team, so I used my socialization skills to keep the humans close. They became closer than I expected, but I didn't mind, so I went along with their ideas for fun stuff we could do during our free time. And to think it all started out as a joke about supervising androids not knowing about humans' desires because we don't have the instincts ..."

Forest said, "You're still a slave to your programmed instincts. Everything you do is based around your purpose. The humans doomed us when they've made us, and there is nothing we can do about it." He drilled into the wall next to the exit.

"Chill, you pessimistic walking disaster!" Zeke said. "Look what you've done to our wall! If the minotaurs invade, they'll have a clear view of this room thanks to your hole."

Forest pulled the drill out of the hole. "Keep the kid busy. I've had enough socializing for today. You guys are just as terrible as you were when you came here." He left the house and slammed the door behind him.

Corby stared at the androids. "Um, Forest, wait! D-don't leave me here with this android who is into humans!"

Zeke burst into laughter. "You think I go for all humans? I can tell you're not my type. You're too reserved, and I only fall for humans who are outgoing to the point of getting flirty with me."

Bob chuckled. "You'd be nailing him or getting nailed by him if he said he's up for doing it though."

"True, but I don't see him as the type who would say that. I mean look at him; he's staring at me like I am some kind of threat. It's clear he's not into me."

Bob got up from the chair. "Corby, would you like to sit at the table with us? We're not dangerous, I promise."

Corby sighed. "Okay, but the second either of you touches me in any way without my consent, I'm getting the hell out of this village."

Zeke frowned at him. "What happened to you that got you to fear machines so much?"

Corby took the seat and faced Zeke. "Somebody I've been traveling with did things to me. I prefer not to get into details. Just … please don't add to the pile of horrible memories I have."

"Oh," Zeke said, nodding. "I see. We're not going to do anything without your permission. Part of being social is understanding people's limits."

"He's right," Bob said. "And don't listen to Forest; we're not all the same. I do not go as far as getting physical with humans. I'd give a handshake or a pat on the back or at most a hug if I see they really need it, but that's my limit."

Corby put his hands on the table. "I'll cautiously take your word for it. Since I cannot sleep tonight, can I just vent to you two about what hell I'm going through?" Tears were forming in his eyes. "I feel so lost that I don't know what else to do."

"Tell us everything that's on your mind," Zeke said. "I can't guarantee that we can help, but I know some people feel better after venting." He smiled at Corby, and received a smile back from him.