Shadowland

Chapter 04 - Puzzle - Part 05

Cariane dropped what she was doing and ran after the robot. By the time she reached the bend in the corridor, it had already moved down the length of the walkway and was turning left at an intersection; it scuttled surprisingly quickly considering its bulk. She ran toward it and reached the intersection just in time to see it turn again, this time walking through a large door which closed behind it.

There was a heavyset ISC Guardian at the door, his black uniform shining and his mirrored glasses gleaming, a large pistol strapped to his side. Her caution overcoming her intense curiosity about the robot, Cariane approached the door casually, as if she had nothing on her mind. The text on the door read "Robot Refectory 619"; it was twice as wide as most of the doors she had seen so far in City One. As she walked up, the guard eyed her suspiciously. She smiled weakly. "Can you let me in?" she asked. "I need to fix one of the robots in here."

One of the guard's hands strayed to his weapon. "Name, Serial Number, and Class?" he barked.

"Cariane West 1992086, Technician First Class," she said faintly. Things were not going well.

"Show me your work order and authorization to enter the Refectory," he snarled.

Sighing, Cariane said, "Sorry, I must have left it in my quarters."

The guard arched an eyebrow. "Did you. Such carelessness will lead to demerits, and possibly re-education, if you're not careful. Report to your supervisor and tell them to help you remember your duties better. No entry without authorization."

"Sorry," Cariane muttered as she slunk away. It looked like the mystery of the robot would have to wait.

She returned to her scheduled duties, but questions about the robot kept intruding into her consciousness and everything took twice as long as it should have. How was the robot connected to her? Why were they both marked like this? Deckard had said there were 'others' in the same position; could the robot be one of them? Cariane had assumed that all of the machines in City One were just that, machines running programs. Could the robot be sentient, a thinking being? Cariane wasn't sure if that was even possible; her instincts told her it wasn't, but how far could she trust her instincts in her condition? After a stressful day of wondering in circles and almost bungling repair jobs, she returned to her quarters, exhausted.

As the doors closed behind her, she noticed green text glowing on her terminal screen. Shanks ran up her leg and sat on her shoulder as she sat down before the screen. As she suspected, it was another message from Deckard.

<< Have a nice day, Cariane? I noticed you met XR 7991. Too bad you two didn't have time to chat. >>

Her mouth firming into an angry line, Cariane typed a reply.

<< What do you know about that robot? No games, Deckard! I'm getting tired of your riddles. >>

<< The robot is a part of the riddle, for sure. But it can't help you solve the riddle. Nobody can. All of us are trapped in this nightmare, with no way out. >>

Cariane squeezed her eyes shut to stop tears leaking out. She typed furiously.

<< Can you get me into the Refectory, or at least arrange for me to see that robot? I need to try and find out whatever I can from it. I don't care if you say I can't succeed. >>

After a few moments, the reply came.

<< We'll see. In the meantime, I have a job for you; a little test of your trustworthiness. I've flashed a set of coordinates to your tablet. You will go there and pick up a package marked with the symbol of the gear and the number IX. You will take it to a second set of coordinates that will be sent to your tablet, and leave it in an inconspicuous place. You will do all of this before 0800 hours this morning, and you will make sure you are nowhere near the second location at that time. Don't fear the Enforcers; I'm going to blank out the cameras so nobody sees you. If you do this for me, I might be able to help you out. Do you agree? >>

Cariane sat in thought for several minutes. She didn't like the sound of what Deckard was proposing, and fear of being discovered, of being dragged off by the Enforcers to whatever torture chambers they surely maintained, froze her blood. But just going through the motions of her daily routine with no hope of finding out more about the mysterious secret Deckard held would be its own kind of torture. She took a deep breath and typed her response.

<< Looks like I don't have much choice. Send me the coordinates. >>

<< Good for you. Take a risk now and then. >>

Her tablet beeped gently, and when she looked at it, a familiar map line was displayed. She gently disengaged Shanks from her shoulder and put him on her bed. "Sorry, my friend," she murmured soothingly. "I wish I could take you with me on this trip, but I can't risk losing you." She squared her shoulders and walked out into the corridor.

It was very late, and the lights were dimmed. She followed the map, through walkways and down elevators, into the bowels of City One where obvious machinery hummed and clanked and gurgled. The map led her to an old and clearly long disused storeroom, the floor thick with dust except for one set of footprints; at the end of the track, she found what she sought -- a small package, in a black rubber box about a foot square, marked with the sign of the gear. She tried to open it, but it was sealed tight. No knowing, then, what she was delivering for Deckard, or why. She picked the package up, tucked it under her arm, and walked out of the storeroom, on the way to its destination.