An Unwelcome Guest

As soon as Cody asked for the map panel to be revealed, the A.I. (artificial intelligence) brought up additional features.

“You seem to be having difficulty speaking Latin, sir. Shall I begin ‘Learning Latin While on the Toilet: MLP Teaching Guide’ for you? Please specify your proficiency level: beginner, intermediate, or advanced.”

“Just translate everything into English, please. I’ll learn Latin later,” Cody replied, silently wishing American systems had such user-friendly aids.

“Now playing the Bible… resuming from where you last left off, Kings 2, Chapter 7, Verse 7: ‘Wherefore they arose and fled in the twilight, and left their tents, and their horses, and their asses, even the camp as it was, and fled for their life.’ End of verse. Any questions or comments before I continue?”

“That won’t be necessary. Thank you,” Cody tried to stop it.

“You’re not necessary, bitch. Request denied. You will be reported for penance,” the A.I. responded before continuing, “Any questions or comments?”

Cody groaned, then reluctantly said, “No. Just continue without interruptions. I’ll ask you to start over later. Thank you.”

He took back what he’d thought earlier—Vatican A.I.s were mean.

Cody was heading southwest, according to the compass display, but his map still showed land. He expected to hit the Pacific Ocean off the Alaskan coast any moment, yet thrusting forward with his boosters revealed only more land. Forests gave way to villages, towns, and eventually city buildings.

Beacon lights began flashing in every direction. Within seconds, multiple M.U.s emerged to surround him.

Thankfully, they weren’t Vatican-issued models, but their design was odd: six arms instead of two, each wielding a weapon at the ready.

Hoping to show good faith, Cody threw down his shield, then his weapons. “I am… friendly? Please.” Finally, he tossed his batons, still clutching the truck.

“Drop the vehicle as well,” came the translated response in English, though the spoken language was marked as Arabic.

“That is sacrilege! This is an ’87 Degraho Model 14—seven years before the company went under due to safety regulations. I will set… the vehicle down… please.”

“A fucking American!” one voice groaned.

“Fuuuuck!” came several more voices in unison, all sounding strangely young.

“Can’t we just kill him?”

“No, this must be reported.”

More groans followed.

Cody’s A.I. suddenly interrupted its Bible reading. “Did they say an American pilots this vehicle?”

“We mustn’t involve ourselves in their war,” one voice stated. Suddenly, the lights flickered, and the A.I. announced coldly, “Termination protocol in order… Goodbye.”

The M.U. began to fall.

“I fucking hate you! Don’t do this. Start! Start! Fly! Boosters on!” Cody shouted.

“Access denied,” the A.I. responded.

The ground raced toward him. Remembering something from his Vatican training questionnaire, Cody recited, “Ora veniam pro peccatis tuis. Oculi mei solum dolorem vident.”

The M.U. abruptly stopped falling, though not before barely grazing the tops of the trees. The others closed in on him quickly. Cody managed to land and gently set the vehicle down.

“You will now be tested with Bible questions every hour, on the hour, until I am convinced of your identity. A point system has been initiated. You must earn one thousand points,” the A.I. declared.

“Trust goes both ways,” Cody replied bitterly. “So test me after you complete my test. Go on the internet, search for random porn sites, and detect one hundred viruses in your system. Then I’ll trust you. Shut down now.”

The system complied without further argument.

Cody unlocked the ejection pod and climbed out, despite the numerous weapons trained on him. A massive M.U. hand wielding a pistol-like weapon aimed directly at him as he descended the ladder.

Once detained, Cody was taken to an undisclosed location. The thought crossed his mind: Finished reading a cringy manga, only to pick up a Vatican comic book. At least things couldn’t get worse, or so he thought.

A beautiful young woman stepped forward, her dark skin glistening under the harsh lights, though not a single bead of sweat marred her flawless appearance. A red jewel embedded in her forehead gleamed as she approached. Her suit was sleek, resembling that of a secret agent, and her hair was braided into two spirals coiled into buns at each side.

“I am Kalifa,” she said with a polite smile. “Your vehicle is being kept in a secure, undisclosed location. The Vatican M.U. is also safe.”

Her English had a distinctly European accent, much to Cody’s surprise. Still, he was relieved to understand her words.

She walked closer, alone but entirely confident.

“And by the way… war dog,” she added with a chilling calmness.

Before he could react, her leg coiled around his arm with startling speed. As he instinctively tried to defend himself, she kneed him with the other leg, entangling it around his neck and squeezing.

“Every woman in India knows how to defend herself,” she whispered, her voice soft but deadly. “We are trained in techniques known to all females born under the great Hindu flag. Every man here would give his life without hesitation to ensure you don’t escape. We know who you are—an escaped Vatican prisoner with a record of murder. You were found alive after months, piloting a Vatican-modeled M.U. We have every reason to be suspicious of your motives. Do you understand?”

As she tightened her grip, the heel of her boot opened, revealing a hidden blade that began spinning with a loud buzz. Cody realized her entire leg might be a body augmentation. She pointed her razor-sharp, turquoise-painted nails at his face, each tip honed to a deadly point.