In the Heart of the Iron Conundrum: Part Four

This is Part Four of a short sci-fi story.

Left over right. Under. Over. Tie a knot. Two loops. Adjust and tie. The ritualistic tying of shoelaces helped settle his nerves. It was a simple thing, tying a shoe. Anyone could do it, even those programmed to. That was what divided humans from androids. A man chooses, an android obeys. That is what made Genesis the better of the two, or so that is what he thought. He knew about the secrets of Obscura Labs, knew that they were going to introduce fake humans to an already overpopulated world. He was going to stop them.

It was going to be nigh impossible to get onto the Iron Will without getting caught. The guard force was incredibly tight around the warehouse the train was being stored in, and everyone on board was either an android, an armed guard, or one of those so-called ‘humanitarian’ scientists. He had already decided he’d have to get onboard whilst the train was in motion.

“Daddy, when are we going home?”

Genesis smiled, turned around, and extended a hand to his daughter who’d fallen behind. Sara was that one beacon of light, a grounding force that guided him in life. Before she was born, Genesis was working for a company who specialised in creating AI for companies looking to replace their workforce with automated systems. But seeing her bright blue eyes for the first time, shining up at him as she smiled and giggled, opening, and closing her little hands as she tried to reach her father, made him rethink the company’s values. Why create a workforce who couldn’t think for themselves? Sara deserved to grow up in a world where every human got equal opportunity.

“I’ve got work to do, my petal. Daddy’ll make the world better for you, just you wait,” Genesis said, holding Sara’s hand tight.

“I’ll wait in the tent for you then, just like we practiced!” Sara giggled, pulling her hand away and running to the tent Genesis had tucked away against the side of a cliff, sheltered from the wind.

“Just like we practiced,” Genesis laughed, watching the 12-year-old dive into the sturdy green tent. He’d gone through the whole plan with Sara several times before the day the Iron Will was due to start its journey. Sara would stay in the tent, safe, only a few minutes away from where Genesis was going to get onboard and stop the train on its tracks. She had plenty to do and eat and had several years of camping practice under her belt to know how to handle herself. She’d be safe. She’d be safe.

. . .

It was fully dark by the time the Iron Will made its way towards the tunnel Genesis was waiting near. He’d hitched himself up just above the lip of the tunnel, crouched and waiting to slip onto the cargo carts. He wasn’t high enough to hurt himself and knew that the train was going slow because of the “charity ball” that was being hosted onboard. He’d long since perfected his breathing so he could stop his mind and heart from racing. He needed to stop the experiment before Obscura Labs released a full functioning android into society, and panicking wasn’t going to help.

And there it was. The burgundy steam train decorated with thick iron bands that gave it its steam punk aesthetic puffed along its track at a leisurely speed. Soft golden and blue light poured out of the gold filigreed windows, and the smokestack billowed soft white clouds from its opulent top. It’d be the exact thing Sara would love to go on; she loved watching the world go by whenever she travelled. Unfortunately, the Iron Will was never going to be safe enough for her. Not with it being full of androids.

Genesis checked his breathing, smiled, and dropped down onto the train with a thump. Rolling to stop himself from hurtling off the train, he pressed himself down to his stomach as the tunnel slowly rolled overhead. He took out a pair of electromagnetic gloves, turned them on and watched them whirr to life. He pulled them on and began to slowly pull himself across the roof of the cargo cart, using the gloves to keep himself from slipping off. He only had a few minutes to stop the train before it’d get too far from the tent Sara was staying in. Moving quickly, he managed to crawl to the roof of another more opulent looking carriage linked to cargo. Suddenly, Genesis was bathed in moonlight once more as the Iron Will pulled out of the tunnel. He didn’t have time to brace when the wind whipped up. The wind created a small vortex that whooshed up and over the side of the train, causing Genesis to get pushed to the side of the roof, his body dangling precariously over the edge. Without his gloves, he’d have fallen. Looking down, he saw his legs were splayed right over a window, his feet banging against the glass. He dragged his hands downwards, slowly edging himself closer to the window so he could open it. His toned body ached from the effort, and his thin brown hair had fallen out of his tight ponytail. Just as he got level with the window, he saw a regal and black-haired woman looking out at him with an annoyed expression. Without thinking, Genesis tore the window open and slipped inside, turning round to slam the window shut once more.

“When I asked for room service, I expected a more presentable entry,” the woman said, snootily. She crossed her arms and leant backwards. She was a tall and statuesque woman, with an air of superiority that rubbed Genesis up the wrong way.

“And you are?” Genesis grumbled, removing his gloves, smoothing his long trench coat down.

“Getting the guard. You’re not supposed to be here,” the woman replied, turning around to open the door to her room.

Genesis leapt forward, spun the woman around and covered her mouth with one hand whilst twisting her hands behind her back with the other. Her sequined outfit jangled from the aggressive movement, and she immediately tried to bite the hand that gagged her.

“You are a filthy android. You aren’t real. The pain you’re about to feel is programmed into your head of wires. You can’t be allowed to exist,” Genesis snarled, spinning the woman around and slamming her into the ground. In one fluid movement, he’d drawn a long knife and slit open the woman’s torso, watching the twisted wires beyond her fake ribcage spark as they got sliced apart. The android shuddered, and their once green eyes suddenly went pale white as the colour programming failed.

“I-I. Am. I Cartland. C-C Cerule,” the failing android stuttered.

“I don’t care. You are no one. Nothing.”

Genesis didn’t stop to watch. He wasn’t here for pleasure. He’d never be here for pleasure. This was business, and this first android was just the beginning of his job. After all, the job of a father never stops. Genesis brought up a hand to the touchpad to open the door, watched it slide open, and stepped out, tucking the knife back into the inside of his coat pocket. Turning right out of the room, he stalked down the corridor, planning to open any door he could in search of his next prey. Then, hearing footsteps coming from behind him, he slipped through an open and unmarked door, gently closing it behind him. Turning around, he was confronted by two men dressed in attendant outfits. They were clearly in the process of folding towels and stacking them neatly on the shelves in this laundry room until Genesis had interrupted them. The men were identical to each other, probably brothers, each with strawberry-blonde hair that had been neatly scraped back into small ponytails. Their eyes were open wide, clearly startled, and one of them was moving their hands in a way that suggested they were trying to communicate with sign language.

“Don’t know what you’re saying, android. It’s unoriginal of them to create the same model twice,” Genesis whispered malevolently, pulling out his knife from his trench coat once more. He watched as the man who’d been trying to communicate with him stepped defensively in front of his brother, holding out one hand and shaking his head fervently. It didn’t matter, this fake show of brotherly love. It was their programming. Genesis was so very sure it was the programming. It didn’t matter that their handsome faces were plastered with fear, fake tears running down their flushed cheeks. They didn’t move to defend themselves – probably wasn’t in their programming. Genesis made it quick; he didn’t have time nor the desire to draw this out anymore than he needed to. After but a few minutes, there were two more decommissioned androids to add to the pile, sparks flashing off their broken frames. Genesis didn’t stop to catch his breath, instead moving to lock the laundry room door so he could better search the room. Apart from towels and floral smelling laundry products, the only other thing of interest in here was a window. Genesis adjusted his coat and put his electromagnetic gloves on once more, ready to slip back out onto the roof of the train. Time was running out. He had to get the train to stop. It had to. And then, it did.

Screams and the sudden screeching of breaks both alarmed and exhilarated Genesis. He’d hoped the android “Cerule” wouldn’t be found so quickly. But then again, maybe it would benefit him. Now the train was on high alert, he could slip from window to window, entering into individual rooms which were inevitably going to be occupied with androids who’d been told to return to their rooms until the crisis was over. His work had only just begun. These androids wouldn’t see the light of day. His daughter would be safe. She’d be safe.

With more care than his last rooftop adventure, Genesis pulled himself up and over the edge of the train, keeping in mind how strong the wind could get if the train began moving again. Without the noise of the train in motion, he had to move as quiet as he could. He could hear the quiet sounds of panic from the occupants within the train, and the occasional whizzing sound of an automated door opening and closing. He was going to move to a different carriage, given he could hear the most activity coming from the carriage he was currently crouching across. Once he got to the end of the carriage, he stepped over to the next. Using his gloves once more, he scooted over to the edge of the roof and began to lower himself down, intending on peering through a few windows before moving to his next target. The smell of expensive and mind-addling cigar smoke wafted up to Genesis’ face. He spotted an open window, through which the smoke billowed from. He positioned himself above the window, legs dangling either side of the frame, took a breath, and slid his hand down so that he could grip the window and launch himself into the room. It wasn’t an elegant entry, with Genesis banging his right leg awkwardly on the frame, making the whole window rattle. But the lean man didn’t let on he was in pain as he rose to a standing position, looking down at a small rotund man dressed in a too-small tuxedo. The plump man was balding and had many laughter lines around his eyes and mouth. His hand was still in a position like he was smoking the cigar he’d since dropped.

“What on Earth are you doing, sir?!” the man said, puffing out his chest in an attempt to make himself seem confident, but was instead betrayed by the fear in his voice.

Genesis took out the knife and pointed it down towards the man’s plump stomach, poking one of the buttons that was straining from holding in his girth.

“It’s sick. You all act these fat, rich people whilst there are actual real people suffering out there. You make me sick,” Genesis growled, raising the knife up.

“Wait! Stop! I-I know what you’re saying. I’m not real, right?” the man stuttered, holding up his hands and stepping away. That got Genesis’ attention.

“You… know?”

“Yes! This is an experiment, right? I worked it out. Everyone here has done this journey before. I remember. Last time I was a chef. This time I’m an oil merchant. It’s all fake!”

“So, you know that there’s actual people out there who need the money these damn scientists are robbing to perform their sick experiment? And here you are, smoking, drinking bourbon and snacking away on a plate of cheese and biscuits,” Genesis spat, his words full of hatred. “It. Has. To. Stop.”

With each of these last four words Genesis spat at the man, he plunged his knife downwards.

Standing over the plump android’s body, ignoring the niggling feeling in his mind that the man, no, the android, had pleaded with him for a life it knew was fake, Genesis jumped when he heard a familiar voice call to him.

“Daddy. Why are you here?”

Genesis whipped around, shocked. Sara stood across the room from him, watching her father breath heavily as he looked down with disgust at the android. He was still wearing his magnetic gloves, one of which was covered in blue fluid that had poured from the torso of the android he’d dismantled.

“Sara! What the – how? Why are you here?!” Genesis whispered angrily, moving towards his daughter with a hand outstretched. Sara recoiled, looking at the stain on her father’s gloved hand.

“What is that?” she whispered, frightened.

Genesis stopped, looked down at his hand and hid it behind his back, as a child would after they’d been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“I told you to stay in the tent! You’re not safe here-”

“Did you kill him?” Sara interrupted, glaring up at her father with those big shiny eyes. All her father could do was stutter. This wasn’t making any sense.

Suddenly, the door slid open. A familiar and supposedly decommissioned tall and skinny woman wearing Cerule’s face peered into the room. She was wearing a lab coat, with her long black hair pulled tightly into a ponytail. Genesis moved to grab his daughter, to pull her to safety, only to find Sara had disappeared.

“Interrupting something, are we?” the woman sighed, pulling out a tablet and tapping the screen three times, shaking her head. “Arrest him.”

Three heavily armed guards rushed into the room, pushing past the annoyed-looking scientist, and reached towards Genesis. The man struggled, pulling out the knife once more and smashing it against the face of one of the guards, watching as the skin pulled apart and blue wires spilled out.

“You’re all fake! You’re not even real. Get your filthy hands off me! You! Scientist! You’ll kill the world with these androids! Where is my daughter?!” Genesis yelled.

“Take him to the cells. This one isn’t with us. Maybe he’s the reason for the blip in the other two’s programming?” the scientist said.

Genesis was disarmed, and pulled out of the room, struggling and shouting, calling out for Sara the entire time. His heart was pounding in his chest, his breathing erratic and heavy. Gone was the façade of the android killer, replaced by a panic only a parent could feel at having lost their child.