episode 12

Storage-Cube

Sttaglite sensed the closeness around him. He had been detained in what was essentially an empty metal storage-cube, had powered down his sensory array and was now almost completely dormant. He was, however, painfully unable to slip into complete hibernation due to the random-data stream which was deliberately flooding the room around him. The human technicians referred to it as a “junk stream”. It plagued Sttaglite’s subsystems with the task of categorizing and identifying nonexistent patterns in the massive data loop: an impossible task and one that Sttaglite could neither terminate nor ignore.

The technique was simple but effective. A massive junk stream funneled into a small enclosure, designed to disorientate and eventually “soften up” a robot’s resolve, usually resulting in a more earnest and productive interview process. It was a new technique and highly controversial, but it had yet to be reviewed by the Council on Planetary Affairs and was therefore considered a legitimate interrogation tool. The technique, used under normal circumstances, caused no lasting damage, and its effectiveness had been proven, but junk streams had yet to be directed at a communications unit. It tortured Sttaglite.

Sttaglite wondered if Jupiter One had ordered this abuse, this slow torture. It was clear to him that Jupiter One held some level of authority in the human camp. He had recognized Jupiter One’s leadership out in the vast wastes of the battlefield. Each human soldier that patrolled with Jupiter One had followed his orders precisely, deferring any major decisions to him immediately. At frequent intervals, a member of the team would abruptly signal, “Jupiter One, I’ve got movement on the sand, southwest. Advise.” and Jupiter One would quickly assess and advise. “No threat, Jupiter Two. Stand down.”

Sttaglite also noticed that he was a decisive human. He gave orders quicker than any commanding robot unit. Sttaglite had been careful to keep a safe distance and remain undetected. The humans had scouted along the mineral ridges that jutted hundreds of feet up from the red desert sand. They had operated like a single organism, and Jupiter One was always the head, always directing the others on their course, keeping them together, keeping them sharp and alert.

But what had they been searching for? Strange how they had found that one long-distance strider there among all the scattered robotic rubble and that they took such an interest in him. Yet Jupiter One seemed truthful in his statements earlier that they were seeking answers for what had happened here. Sttaglite sought many of those same answers himself. Regardless of the other humans’ intentions, Jupiter One seemed trustworthy.

Sttaglite caught himself. It had been four hours since the junk stream first began, and it was weathering his thought processes. He simply had not gathered enough data to warrant trusting any of these humans. Perhaps he had miscalculated in approaching them. He could have remained in the desert, monitoring them indefinitely. Still, the humans had taken the long-distance strider, and that action had left Sttaglite no other choice.

And now? Though he was very close to the strider unit, Sttaglite had no substantial knowledge of the its true condition, and the humans, it seemed, had turned decidedly unfriendly. Sttaglite’s ocular cavities glowed red. He now realized how anomalous it was that the technician had let slip the information that the strider was being released unharmed. Was that false information? Was it a strategy to gain his trust? Sttaglite suddenly realized that the humans could be doing far worse to the long-distance strider than they were presently doing to himself. He would have to access the humans’ network, to send out word of this troubling situation.

Sttaglite turned to the energy-locked storage-cube door; it had been designed to secure items from potential external threat. As such, the locking system was armored on the outside but only thinly plated from within. Without hesitation, Sttaglite began the process of disassociating and disconnecting his main fuel cell and shifting his process energy load to his two secondary fuel cells. Many robots held self-preservation as a prime directive, but Sttaglite had always held to higher ideals. For the greater good, one must be willing to sacrifice.

Once Sttaglite had calculated and placed the precise detonation required, he sent the ignition signal. The explosion was deafening. Everything went white.