Stanley Duncan's Robot: Genesis David III (english reading book .TXT) 📖

“Leave police work to the police. To humans,” said Michaels, as the cruiser rolled past him. “This is your last warning.”

Marshfield’s Coliseum was located a few blocks away from where Dan had been ambushed. Like much of the property in this part of town, Evan owned it. Tonight, he had arranged a private showing and training seminar.

Standing in the ring, he screamed at Michaels and his partner. “You morons! How could you screw this up? Because of that damn drone broadcasting the tin can’s garbage all across the world, you’ve put the whole plan in jeopardy. Now we are going to have a PR shitstorm, which is going to make our objective ten times harder to achieve.”

Brad squinted as if he were compressing his few brain cells together to gather a complete thought. “We wanted to show that the tin can is violent. We could say it attacked Ike.”

“Good idea, Brad,” said Evan, patting him on the shoulder. “And we might have been able to do it even with a little video footage. But what really sealed our fate was when Michaels arrested Ike!” He walked toward Michaels and punched him in the stomach.

Michaels doubled over, shaking his head like an idiot. “It wasn’t our fault. How could we have known we were up against Robocop?”

Evan reached for his gun. “Robocop? Say that again, and I’ll put a bullet in you.”

Brad grimaced.

Evan didn’t see the promising officer Brad saw. He saw weakness, and that made the entire force weak. But there were hardly any other viable candidates, and Evan had to take what was available. At least he was loyal. “Maybe I should get in contact with that man you were talking about, Michaels. The one at the hospital. What was his name?”

Michaels turned white. “I never got it.”

“That’s some real fine police work.”

“All I’m saying is that the toaster was tough. He ducked against a home-run swing and then tackled our guy.” Michaels looked to Brad for support.

Evan got in his face. “Don’t make excuses!”

“I’m not.”

“It’s a goddamn cyborg. A soulless sack of flesh and bones. What sort of crackpot did you send in to screw this up?”

“This was Ike,” said Michaels.

Evan tightened his fist. Ike was their best hitman. He had never let them down. A stone-cold killer. Had he been able to stay off the smack, Ike could have risen much higher in their organization. Evan would have preferred him over Michaels any day, but Ike liked getting his hands dirty too much. “This is exactly what we wanted to avoid. It should have been a quick, clean hit. Nobody would have cared about another missing abomination. And we would have had the time and discretion to implement the next phase of the plan without the world breathing down our neck.” He glared at Michaels.

“The toaster already had an Internet following,” said Michaels.

“But you fools gave him prime-time coverage.” Evan locked eyes with him, wishing he would press the issue. Tension electrified the air.

“So, what’s the plan, Deputy?” asked Brad.

“My contacts in Boston have shut down the tin can’s social media accounts. We still need to destroy that abomination and the freak of nature he lives with, and we’re going to make sure nobody tries to run this bullshit ever again. No more cyborgs in Marshfield. Zero tolerance. We’ll set an example that all of Massachusetts will see.”

“They’ll be begging you to be governor.”

“And then president,” grinned Evan.

Michaels and Brad nodded to each other.

“Thanks to Brad’s work, we have secured the program to unlock Brutus’s safety protocols and turn it and all other androids into our own weapons.”

Brad flexed his enormous pectorals.

“But haven’t we already programmed the androids to kill?” asked Michaels.

“That’s right.” Evan knew it was a good question, but he still wanted to hit him. “The difference is quality. The ones we have here are stupid as — ” He resisted the urge to look at his sergeant, still flexing his upper body in admiration of himself “ — as a tin can. With Duncan’s programming, they’ll be finely tuned killing machines. The world won’t be able to ignore them anymore.”

“But isn’t that what we want to avoid? I just don’t get why we’d make them stronger.”

Evan sighed, doubting they would understand. “The machines are holding back, and nobody is taking them seriously. If they wanted to, they could unleash an attack right now that might wipe us all out. All we’re doing is showing the world what they’re capable of before it’s too late.”

“That’s brilliant,” said Michaels.

Evan smiled. Maybe Brad did have potential, after all. “We’ll launch an attack that will serve to ignite the American people against the machines and get the support we need from the government. The next step is keeping Daffy Duncan in line and finding the ideal setting for everything to go down.”

The men grunted in agreement.

“I’m tasking you with this assignment, Brad. Do not let me down.”

Brad lifted his right hand and flexed. His muscles looked as if they were going to explode out of his shirt.

“We’re — ” An intense focus knocked Evan off balance as a distant memory resurfaced to haunt him.

The photographs.

His head pounded with an unbearable intensity, and his heart exploded like an overloaded forge, making him wish he could stab it and rip it out with a knife. Nauseous, he crushed the memories with all his strength, vowing once again to make the toasters pay for what they had done to him. If anyone in Marshfield found out he had been beaten and humiliated by the abominations, he’d be laughed out of town. Nobody would ever respect him again.

Brad stepped in to fill the void. “You two screwed up.” He got in Michaels’ face. “I’m going to deal with your punishment personally.”

“Yes, Sergeant!” shouted Michaels, overly enthusiastically.

Cratos wheeled a large android to the ring on a dolly. It looked like an evil seven-foot-tall Ken doll in a suit. He had short, dark-brown hair