Ronnie wedged his armored fingertips under the heavy stone concealing the control box. He yanked and the slab cracked apart, the noise thunderous in the tomb-like corridor.
“Oops.”
Not that he felt bad about breaking anything in Emperor Thallia’s creepy castle, but the louder he was, the better chance the mechanical samurai patrolling
The fish revolted, and it was glorious. Bluetooth, mudfish, and desert trout swarmed the river and frothed its waters. Paddlesturges and red cripes leaped in the air and landed, flopping, upon my deck.
The mining bot at my stern sent me a warning.
E81921: PR05P3CT0R, dredge buckets are under attack.
But I already
When Rosco opened his eyes for the first time and saw the old man smiling back at him, all operational parameters pointed to one thing: it was going to be a happy life.
His performance diodes peaked under the kindly gaze and the feedback-response loop set his chain-link tail thumping uncontrollably against
Radiation bathes my rig, titanium panels and tungsten ribs shimmering like molten metal. Apart from the aura of impending death, it reminds me of my childhood, when I’d squeeze my eyelids shut while staring into the sun. Despite my best efforts, sunlight always leaked through the thin membrane of skin in a warm, blood-red glow.
Read it now
The years haven’t been kind, but—Grete adjusted the eyepatch, making sure it didn’t ride on her cheekbone—kinder than I deserve. She glanced out the grimy window to the alley below.
“Oh, Schatzi, is that scar bothering you again?” Cook dipped her finger into a tin of salve.
Grete shrunk back, wrinkling her nose.
“There is a storm in the southern quadrant,” VERA announced.
Jasper looked up from his charts. “Are you malfunctioning?”
“No, Dr. Beck,” the AI intoned. “I detected an electrical charge consistent with the phenomenon of lightning.”
“That’s not possible.” Jasper crossed the lab in three strides and pulled up the visual feed. Heavy
The synaptic probe slides into my brain, battering down the doors to my treasured memories. There is no time to prepare for the pain. Instead, I focus on the memory of a kindly old face.
Would my creator be proud of me?
“Are you smiling, RS-47? Such emotional mimicry will not hold sway here.”
Danil raised his binoculars to his eyes, scanning the buildings below him. From his perch in the clock tower, he could see the necessary details from a great distance.
Apartment 203’s curtains were pulled back, allowing him to survey a tidy living room. He panned his binoculars to a church across town.
The rowdiness in the mall stretched for miles. I watched from a distance as people flocked the hallways, leaning over balconies to gape at the waving, smiling bot in their midst.
Thomas900.
Thomas’s robotic voice matched mine. He was tall like me, but with inward curves in the middle and a spherical base.
Kylie had never seen so much bot blood.
There were drops of it, splashes and pools of it, all leading farther into the house like Gretel’s breadcrumbs. Toting her medical bag high, she watched where she placed her boots. There was nothing like getting cobalt blood on leather. It was the consistency of
Pounding footsteps shook the forest and knocked fiery, autumn leaves from the trees. Gemma pressed against the nearest trunk, the bark’s ridges digging into her bare arms. We found the stone golem.
“Fiske, Korth, you ambush him from the other side.” Uncle Roan spoke just loud enough for her to hear.
“This is a mistake,” 733 beeped, its camera whirring as the focus zoomed out to train on the figure standing in the snow beside it.
The woman wore a thick fur-trimmed parka frosted with ice flecks from her long trek up the hill to the outpost. The climb had left the subject
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