The Chase - pt. 2

In just seconds, I shove past the surprised doctor and run down the street. The droids, unwilling to just let me go, start up the car and move it in reverse. With an outstretched hand, the M-droid in the back tries to grab me, but I dodge fast enough to be just out of its fingers’ reach. The car spins and changes positions, now speedily following me down the narrow sidewalk.

“Miss Hartwell, please return to the vehicle,” they call out through a rolled-down window.

Paying them no mind, I keep on running, my adrenaline quickening as I get closer to the corner next to the intersection that leads further into the city – a place with many distractions and obstacles that can be put into the droid’s path, and get them to lose me. But it’s not easy to outrun a car. They’re still right beside me, the wheels brushing against the edge of the raised pavement.

The door opens again, and it looks like a droid is about to lunge out to get me, but good luck is on my side today. The light at the intersection has just turned green, and a flood of cars pull in from the right. A crosswalk is in front of me. Continuing along the sidewalk would be pointless, one of the droids would just get out and chase me down – but if I were to act like an idiot right now, they probably wouldn’t do the same.

I can’t believe what I’m about to do.

Taking a deep breath and preparing for the worst to come, I bolt onto the crosswalk in the middle of the incoming traffic. “Miss Hartwell!” the droid exclaims. Horns beep and people yell at me to get out the way, and they either have to slam the brakes or take a sharp swerve to avoid hitting me. One car even rams into the back of another and starts a small fire, but nobody is hurt.

Hopefully.

I’m going to get into so much trouble, but at least my plan worked – the droids didn’t decide to be as careless as me. There used to be a time when I had the same sensibility, just earlier today.

Even though I’ve gotten away from the car, that doesn’t mean I’m out of sight. There’s security cameras all throughout the Capital, all connected to HQ and the Department of Order’s main office. I don’t know how far Ezri is willing to go, she could be watching me right now. It’s too risky to take any chances, it’s best to prepare for anything.

On this street, there’s a small clothing store a block ahead. Everything they sell there is cheap and ugly. Beats me how they’ve possibly managed to stay in business – but as long as I can make myself less recognizable, that’s all that matters.

My phone buzzes. I’d rather be somewhere secure first before pausing my retreat to stop and call Dad, but I figure checking a simple notification won’t hurt. “Signal Lost,” red letters say on the screen. Looks like it won’t be possible to talk to Dad anyway. Seconds afterwards, more buzzing is heard around me, and other people are seeing they received the same alert. An outage couldn’t be more inconvenient.

Once I get to the store, my eyes land on a black sweatshirt with a tacky graphic design and a baggy pair of jeans. The extents I’m going to today are just unbelievable. Begrudgingly, I snatch the clothes off the racket and walk into the dressing room. Both items are a size too big for me, but despite how ill-fitting it is, it’ll do a good job at concealing myself. After changing my pants, I put on the sweatshirt and throw the hood over my head, then tuck away any visible strands of hair.

Evaluating my cover up in the mirror, I actually shiver at what I’m looking at. It’s enough to hide from the cameras though, so I’ll have to just deal with it. I swallow down my pride and push back the curtain of the room, but what’s out in the lobby causes me to hold my breath.

“Dang it,” I mutter to myself, shutting back the curtain and stepping away.

There were three golems at the desk, talking to the cashier who was pointing in my direction. Heavy footsteps grow louder and louder as the golems prowl towards the curtain. “Calla Hartwell,” one of them speaks, “we are here to escort you. This is an executive command.”

Sure it is. I knew it was wise not to underestimate her, but sending golems after me so soon? That was unexpected, and only further confirms my theory that Ezri has worked as an Admin – there’s no way some novice could pull this off.

“Calla Hartwell, please come out.”

The room is small, with no way to exit aside from the curtains. There’s no way out of this – change of plans.

“Give me a minute!” I call out to them before quickly switching back into my normal clothes. There’s no point in disguising myself if they’ve found me anyway, so I’ll save it for another instance, just in case.

I don’t care about the golems, though; this isn’t over yet.

Entering back into the foyer, I greet the golems with a smile. I might’ve been dumb and desperate enough to charge into a road, but provoking three golems is an entirely different story. Having enough strength to tear a person in half if it so chose, going against one would go beyond having a death wish.

“I need to pay for this first,” I say before they lead me out the door, the hoodie and pants folded up under my arm. They fortunately allow me to get to the register. On the terminal, after swiping my card into it, it asks me for my security code. I hover my body close to the screen to hide it from any prying eyes of the golems. “CODE15,” is what I input.

“Ma’am, there’s something wrong with the terminal. My code isn’t working.”

“Are you sure it’s the right one?”

“Yes, can you take a look at it?”

The cashier turns the terminal to her side, and a knowing look crosses her face once she sees what’s on it. She glances between me and the golems, then nods her head. “Ah, I see what the problem is,” she says, pretending to type some things into the system. “It should work now.”

Sometimes, the bots can have some real issues, and golems are no exception. A “code 15” is when a golem gets confused and believes that an innocent person needs to be apprehended. It can turn serious very fast, since golems are permitted to use force if their demands are not complied with. In such cases, the police bring an Admin to reset the golem.

Of course, that isn’t actually happening, but the cashier is oblivious to the real nature of all this – something a lot more severe than a wonky golem. I put my actual code into the terminal, and the payment goes through.

“Would you mind waiting for a moment?” she asks, pulling out her phone. The outage is still going on, but the emergency lines are connected to a completely separate network, one that’s built into the country’s security nexus. In other words, it isn’t affected by some signal disconnection.

“Calla Hartwell must be removed from the premises,” says one of the golems, ushering me towards the exit. I guess delays aren’t an option, but it doesn’t matter. As long as the police are called, I can still get out of this.

The golems guide me down the street, one behind me and one on each of my sides. Pedestrians give me questioning stares as we go by. Unless something crazy is going on, which never happens anyway, having three golems surrounding you is excessive. Even Dad rarely ever has two of them.

Ezri must be really determined to get me, and if I can help it, I’m never going to find out what that reason is – not through first-hand experience, anyway. Why so much effort? Sure, I may be the president’s daughter, but in terms of power, I’m equal to an ordinary civilian. It’s not like she’ll be able to get information out of me either, Dad doesn’t tell me anything confidential.

“Why am I being taken?” I ask.

“The Administrator has not given permission to answer that question.”

Of course. Worth a try.

“You know, I think your ‘Administrator’ is really annoying.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

The Admin System affects all bots within a 50-mile radius of the device being used. It’s not just these golems or those M-droids I’ll have to worry about, but every bot in sight so long as I’m in this area, and the Capital isn’t short of them. There’s one driving a bus, another delivering mail to an apartment, even a droid walking someone’s dog. If Ezri wanted, she could set any of them against me.

Sirens are heard, coming closer. I grin victoriously as I see a police car driving in our direction. It stops right beside us, an officer and an Admin soon stepping out. All they have to do is reset the golems, and I’ll be free again.

“We received a report of a code 15?” the officer says.

“Yes, I was just going shopping, and these golems came out of nowhere,” I say timidly, a frightened expression painted on my face.

“Apologies, miss,” he says, then gives the Admin a nod of approval.

“You aren’t going to check my status?” I ask. Whenever a code 15 is reported, it must be verified that there is actually no warrant for a person’s arrest. Otherwise, it’d be a terrible loophole.

He shakes his head and chuckles, “No, I highly doubt you would cause any problems, Miss Hartwell, and not just because of your father. We call you the ‘warden’ at the station, with all the people you’ve sent in,” he teases. I don’t know how to respond to that, or if I should be offended or not.

The Admin does as he’s told and reboots the golems. They go limp as they’re temporarily turned off while the process initiates. I’m obviously not going to wait until they’re alert again, so I quickly tell the two “thank you” and “goodbye.”

That was close. Too close. I check my phone again, but the outage still hasn’t been resolved. Considering everything that’s going on, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised it’s still broken. No matter, my next stop is home.

But just as I’m searching for somewhere to change back into the clothes from the store, a loud ring blasts through the city, demanding our attention. I quickly look up at a speaker attached to a lamppost, and before I can even process whatever is happening, that voice that I know all-too-well returns to haunt me.

“Attention everyone, this is a message from the IPU. Please locate Calla Hartwell and bring her to HQ. Thank you.”