The Autumn Aircraft: Avery's Recruits (7 page)

              Inside this opening was every kind of item a person could imagine, the kind of stuff that could be good for gardening and the kind of thing you’d only need if you were replacing a rocket in a space shuttle.  Upon first sight Alan’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor.  There were more robots in this area than anywhere else, —at least fifteen of them—and once the meeting with Avery had ended, he had put them to work.  Activating them with a voice command (certain commands only he could do) and sending them scurrying and climbing about the junk as nimbly as creatures born in the Amazon.  They moved their thin, metallic bodies over socket wrenches, broken mirrors with jagged edges jutting out like razors, laptops, both broken and seemingly untouched, power drills, blowtorches, TV’s, gold bars—actually fucking gold—copper pipes and wires, paint, pitchforks, light bulbs, an almost dizzying array of fireworks and bombs, several large automatic weapons, three with telescopic sights, a telescope, two crushed vehicles, an intact Range Rover (
this would likely be transformed into a mini-space-shuttle
, Alan thought,
and not their first
.) a jet engine, etc…etc.

              Alan, Danny, and Bell watched the construction from their chairs.  Four of the tiny robots crawled beneath the range rover and working in unison, lifted it and moved it.  Bell’s jaw dropped.

              “So how’s this going to work?” Bell asked the boys.

              “Well,” Alan said, you have to consider the robots far ahead of us when it comes to this.  I think Avery knows exactly how to build the ship, piece for piece, even if he doesn’t fully understand how he knows, but the fact is, he wouldn’t have time to do it alone.  He built the first robot with scraps, learning how to do it—well, that’ll be a lesson for another day.  But he built the robot, using metal, a blowtorch, a brand name computer, liquid silver, and wires.  I saw him build it piece by piece and didn’t understand what the fuck I was seeing.  Thought he’d burn his face off or lose a hand or kill himself in the process, but no.  It was like he came from another planet.  It would bug you out.  He even constructed the robot in a way that makes it impossible to tell that it was made from scraps.  I mean, look around.  Most of the robots are built by other robots.  Bet you can’t spot the one built by Avery.”  Alan pointed to his head with one gloved finger.  “All because it’s in here, as clear as day to him.”

              “That’s crazy,” Bell said.  She seemed to consider for a moment.  “So you’re unwilling to divulge the secret.”

              “I’ll just tell you that he found something and it did it to him, changed him.”

              “Yeah, found it and he wasn’t the same since,” Danny said.  “Crazy, crazy, crazy.  The core of Avery’s there but…well, you had to know him before all this to know what we’re talking about.”

              “We’ll tell you the story another time,” Alan said.  Alan gave her a smile (
Is it me or does his smile seem sad,
she thought.).  “See if you’re worth being told.”

              “Whatever,” Bell said, leaning back.  “It’s probably something I’ll find out with or without you.”

              Danny scoffed.  “Yeah, good luck with that.”

             
“Alan!”
Avery called from the section of the tunnel that they’d come in.  Alan stood up and approached Avery, who stood fifteen or so feet away.  From what he could tell he’d just finished with talking with a number of the other team members.

              “What’s up,” Alan said, hoping that he wouldn’t have to be one of the people that remained in Antarctica.  He thought that Avery might decide that he needed someone close to him to stay behind and look after everything.  Maybe he’d believed that leaving it to someone that wasn’t Alan or Danny would be a big risk on his part.  Alan didn’t think that would be the case, not with the robots present.  At least he hoped so.

              “Change of plans,” Avery said, kneeling down in front of one of the robots and tapping a touch-screen monitor on its chest area. 

              “What do you need me to do?”

              “I need you to bring my sister back here. Was about to head out myself, but realize that’s not the best thing.  Waiting, I’ve decided, is too much of a risk, so it needs to be done now.  There’s too much going on this year to have to worry about someone getting ahold of her.  I can’t underestimate them.  As you know, getting out ahead of this thing has been the key thing on my mind for the last couple of years.  But there’s more to it than that.  As far as I know my mom was never the kindest woman.  She’s an abusive lady, believes in the old school method of a switch and a cord.  Stronger men and less deadbeats is the result, she thinks.  Now I’ve been out of my house for a couple of years now to get away from her, but didn’t bring my sister because at the time I was ill-equipped.  Anyway, my sister’s five now.”

              Alan nodded.  Avery straightened up and faced him.

              “Last time I saw her was two years ago, and my mom wasn’t hitting her then.  Hopefully that’s still the case.   Anyway, I’m too recognizable in that area.  After visiting my school, my face is likely on the forefront of every cop’s mind. Not just that…well, you know the history with the people there.  Grudges that could never be settled, rumors or not.”

              Alan said nothing. He knew the grudges from residents within the neighborhood was not simply rooted in rumor, but something far deeper and meaningful than that. But in the end what Avery had done had been best.

              “So you got this?” Avery asked.

              Alan nodded.

              “I’m in a rough area as you know, and along with that we can’t afford to have the cops apprehend you for kidnapping or any of that. Now I have faith in you and your abilities but the first, human-sized robot, due to be completed in another”—Avery produced his smartphone and looked at the screen—“three hours, is going to go along with you.  Fold it down like one of those transformer toys and put it in your backpack.  Take it out if you need it, it’s your backup.”

              Alan smiled. “You don’t think my sword is good enough?”

              “I know you’re good with the sword and I know you’ll have it with you when you go.  But I can’t be there to get my sister and I’m not taking any risk. If the robot works as it should, you won’t need to do anything but walk into the apartment, take my sister’s hand and lead her out. It won’t kill unless you tell it to do so and whether it’s a bunch of cops with guns, or gangbangers, you’ll be good to go.  Plus, at this point the robots more powerful than even me.  If the whole block is after me my abilities won’t even be enough.”  Avery sighed.  Alan could see that he wasn’t the same kid that used to make decisions based purely on emotion.  “I get better every day but this about making the best decision.  The best decision is for Bell to be slipped out without half the block loading up weapons to come after me.  You understand?”

              “You don’t think a robot’s too flashy?”

              “I’m not risking it,” Avery said.  “Flashy or not, I’ll sooner die before I let anyone stop me from doing what I need to do.  Now, I’m going to head out with Bell and Danny.  You head out with the last crew, got it?”

              Alan nodded.  “Yeah, got it.”

              Avery smiled—an exhausted, forced smile, Alan thought—and clapped him on the shoulder.  “Should be easy enough man.  Just get her back to the shuttle, put the cloaking mode on, and fly back here.  You control where it picks up, don’t forget.  No manual override.  Keep the shuttle on automatic.”

              “I will.”

              Avery called Bell and Danny over.  After Danny and Bell bid Alan goodbye they dressed in their warming suits and headed down the tunnel with Avery to the first shuttle, leaving Alan and a number of other crew members behind.

10

The robot was built with a sleek, thin design and looked freshly polished as if it was a product right off the conveyor belt.  In a way it was.  It looked like a quality robot, its exterior had been well oiled and it moved as smooth as a premium engine, hell, it moved smoother than a human.  Alan had never seen a robot this size before, the closest thing was the Asimov which cost a million bucks, and
it
was a joke compared to this.  This robot could actually hold conversations about nearly anything, could run faster than the planet’s fastest man, and had the strength to make a joke out of the Strongman competition.  Its exterior was a shiny black and its head was a sphere the size of a bowling ball, with white fluorescent triangles for eyes.  Word was the robot ran off solar energy.

After testing the robot out for a little while—asking it questions and trying to smack it in the head (it’s head was too hard to try to punch without breaking his hand)—he ordered the robot to put itself inside of his backpack.  It did so at once, its metallic legs and gears moving soundlessly as it compressed itself.  Then he zipped the backpack up, put on his warming suit and headed out with the rest.

11

             
“Tired as fuck nigga, no bullshit.”

              He was tired enough to talk to himself, so he truly must’ve been exhausted.  Beating up people could do that to a person.

              This man had been in a fight earlier, fists clenched, and faced twisted in an ugly grimace of rage as he punched a man’s face in for making a crack about his girl after she cut him in line.  He’d waited until the man stepped out of the Subway and made it just out of sight of the outdoor camera to work him over, and when he was finished, the man, just twenty-one years of age (seven years younger than Devon) lay unconscious.  This might’ve been the reason Devon Bradley was tired.  He was standing out on the stoop when an unfamiliar Asian man with black hair to his shoulders and a red backpack approached.  If he wasn’t mistaken he thought he spotted the handle to what must’ve been a machete or sword sticking out between the backpack and his back.

             
What the hell would he be carrying that shit for,
the man wondered. 
Weirdo.
  Of course, it was a question he’d wished he’d spend more time pondering moments later.

              The Asian kid looked young, couldn’t have been older than eighteen, and though Devon Bradley had never seen this man before, the Asian man’s expression seemed to show that he felt right at home.  For a moment it gave Devon second thoughts about saying anything to the kid.  It’d been a long day anyway and he was exhausted.  And maybe the kid
did
live here, and if he didn’t, who cared?  The man might only be visiting to see a friend.

              The Asian kid started up the stairs, both hands clenching the straps of his backpack.  He was dressed in an open sweatshirt, red T-shirt and light blue jeans, rather light attire for this time of year (Devon who planned to go inside soon wore merely a T-shirt).  The red shirt that the kid wore had a huge yellow, smiling sun on the front as if the kid was Mr. Sunshine himself.  He had to take a closer look to see if it was indeed a smiling sun, and was able to confirm it was.  This irritated Devon.

              “Cold night, isn’t it?” the kid said on his way up.  He was smiling. 

Devon didn’t like that either.  “You a long way from home, ain’t you,” he said, and stepped smoothly in front of the entrance to the building.  He’d done this so many times it was almost instinctive.

              The kid looked at him.  Standing closer, Devon guessed he’d been right about his age.  The kid was eighteen, give or take a year. He was skinny, looked like any one of the kids around the block could’ve knocked his head off.  And as far as Asian kids went, Devon had only spotted a few since he had lived in this neighborhood, and this kid wasn’t one of them.

              “Is there a problem?” the kid asked. 

              He was still calm. And the question came out matter-of-fact. Usually, all Devon had to do was speak three words and a person would become hesitant, afraid. Devon had seen this kind of thing before, someone acting calm in a situation they were actually uncomfortable with. It was a front on this Asian kid’s part, he knew it.  Kids who wore colorful shirts with bright, smiling suns on the front were made to get used up just like the rest of them.  Kids like this Asian boy before him didn’t get into this apartment unless Devon said so. 

             
On the verge of shaking,
Devon thought,
that’s what this kid is.

             
“You don’t belong here kid,” Devon said, extracting a cigarette from his pocket. He fished his zippo from his left pocket, flipped it open, lit the cigarette, and made it disappear all in seemingly one fluid movement. He puffed smoke, and felt instantly more relaxed.  “Go.”

              “But my aunt lives here,” the kid said, suddenly indignant. He didn’t miss a beat. “Why do I have to go?  You know how long I walked just to get here?”

              Devon nodded, but it was in no way meant to express understanding. “Go, nigga,” Devon said, leaning inside of the doorway now, becoming impatient. He exhaled a diagonal line of smoke into the air.  “I say you don’t belong here than you don’t belong here.”