Each pounding footstep echoed between Nova’s ears, a throbbing metronome synchronized with the chaotic pulse of her heart. In her steel-encased arms, she clutched Sweep, who was noticeably slowing her down. The hoses and nozzles secured to the CleanerBot’s body clanked like tin cans against her legs, and some sort of coolant was leaking from Sweep’s torso. Behind Nova, dozens of ragtag robots rattled as they fled, their movements desperate and strained as they pushed their damaged bodies beyond limits.
Five minutes.
That was all they had left to escape the radius of the EMP. The detonator on her wrist was counting down, a reminder of the impending destruction. She’d had to press it. She regretted it, but the SoldierBots raced toward them. Drones soared above, unleashing sprays of bullets and dropping grenades on the fleeing prisoners. Only the EMP would stop them from slaughtering them all.
When the EMP discharged, she would be okay, but the escaped robots were in a frantic dash for survival.
“Sweep,” she yelled over the clamor of motors and din of rapid-fire. “How far?”
The CleanerBot’s GPS was pretty good; she’d once counted on Block’s when they traveled across the country. “Point seven four miles to reach safety.” Sweep said.
The impossible task taunted her: three-fourths of a mile in four and a half minutes. Not a challenge for her SoldierBot exoskeleton, but an insurmountable feat for the injured and slow-moving bots trailing behind. The harsh reality gnawed at Nova. They weren’t going to make it, and a boatload of robots were going to fry.
She didn’t know if her words would have any effect, but she shouted them anyway. “Don’t stop! Keep moving.” Each second was a precious commodity, slipping through their fingers.
Beneath the deafening clatter of metallic footfalls and the high-pitched whir of drones overhead, Sweep spoke. “We won’t make it in time, will we?”
The defeat in Sweep’s voice pushed Nova harder. Her strides lengthened as her pace quickened. She had to hand it to Cybel, the exoskeleton propelled her forward with a tremendous efficiency unlike anything she’d experienced.
“We’ll make it.” Her response was automatic, the words spoken more out of determination than certainty. There was no other choice but to believe, to push forward, to hope against hope.
Her armor’s hydraulics whirred as she ran. Weapons cracked like fireworks, and deafening bullets spewed from weapons. Engines roared in armored transports. Nova’s mind raced like a buzzing hive, working overtime, searching for solutions. Among them, a fleeting thought held, an ember glowing brighter as realization washed over her.
“A Faraday cage . . .” She breathed the words out, almost in disbelief. They needed a shield that could act as an insulator against the electromagnetic pulse. She’d read about them but had never seen one in action. In a pinch, one could use a refrigerator or a car.
But where could she find a Faraday cage big enough for all of them in the middle of a war-torn decaying Chicago?
Her mind raced through the blueprint of the city she’d memorized with her rebel crew. They’d picked out spots to meet in case of emergency. Around her, abandoned vehicles lined the streets. Some of the buildings would surely have metal frameworks, but she feared that wasn’t enough. Even the vast network of CTA subway tunnels wouldn’t necessarily help because the EMP shockwave could travel underground.
Unless she could locate one of the train cars. The abandoned ones she’d seen were steel-encased and rectangular. Could one of those work? Below ground, the body of a train car might insulate against the EMP.
It was a long shot, but it was all she had.
Frantic now, Nova recalled the subway markers on the map in her head. She could go to Washington & Wells, but something in her gut clenched. It was called the El for a reason. Elevated. Many of the stations were platforms above the city streets. She had no idea which ones were which.
“Sweep, do you know this city?” she asked.
“Yes, I cleaned several of the large office buildings. I was very eff—”
“No time! I need the closest CTA station underground.”
“Processing,” Sweep said. “Washington is on Dearborn. That’s underground. Take a right on Randolph.”
If this worked, she would kiss the CleanerBot later, but all she could do now was sprint toward the abandoned train station and hope the other bots followed her. The pursuing SoldierBots cut through the lagging bots, and there was nothing she could do.
Her heart beat like a demented wasp as she approached the station entrance and bounded down steep stone stairs. The stale scent of damp and decayed concrete hit her. To her surprise, a heavy iron gate had been left ajar, and she pushed past it, Sweep still in her arms.
A sharp voice came from behind as a heavy robot clattered down the worn steps. “What are you doing? We’re only half a mile out.” Vector asked.
“We have a chance at surviving down here.” She was counting on there being a train. She hoped her plan wasn’t a desperate grasp at an unrealistic lifeline. “We need a train car.”
The descent into the subway was like stepping into the bowels of a monstrous beast, darkness complete and the air heavy. But there was no time to hesitate. Nova pushed forward. The exosuit’s LED lights sliced through the gloom.
She entered the platform where the passengers would wait. Nothing was there. No sign of a train.
No. Dammit. There had to be a way.
Nova set Sweep down and leaned her against a concrete column, then ran up and down the platform, her eyes scanning every nook and cranny. Sweat stung her eyes, and the countdown on her wrist showed ninety-three seconds.
Thirty or so robots piled into the station and gathered on the platform. Vector busied ten of the largest ones with barricading the bottom of the stairs as the SoldierBots stampeded after them.
Desperation seized Nova. She looked around the platform, scanning it with her exoskeleton’s lights. Her eyes caught sight of something in a far corner, about fifty feet into the southbound train tunnel. A train car had derailed and slid into the wall, jammed in the hollow tubelike tunnel. She ran to it. A pylon had fallen against the emergency back door, blocking it. So she thrust her arm into the narrow gap between the metal and the wall. With a grunt, she heaved at it, hoping her suit would provide the power she needed. The metal screeched against the concrete as it slowly gave way.
She only had a minute left.
With a loud creak, the door jolted open, and she leaped into the train car, checking it with her beams. It was cramped, but there was enough space to hold them all.
“Come on. This way! Into the train.” She raced back to the platform and scooped up Sweep. She refused to let the robot perish after all they’d been through.
Nova ushered the robots into the subway car, their metallic bodies filling the narrow spaces and crunching the old plastic seats. It was a tight fit. In her arms, Sweep trembled, her vocal output humming with worry.
Twenty seconds. She ran to the back door. They were all inside except Vector who thrust his bulky steel body against the metal gate that kept the SoldierBots from entering the platform.
“Vector!” she shouted. “Now.”
But the tall ExoBot stayed put. He was taking the brunt of the SoldierBot forces. His torso was scorched, and his left leg dangled uselessly. He lifted an arm and saluted Nova. A sacrifice.
Ten seconds. Nova gulped away a lump in her throat and pulled the heavy back door shut. God, I hope this works. She slumped against the interior wall of the subway car, panting and sweating.
All they could do now was wait and hope that the relic of the past would save their future. Her wrist showed four seconds.
Sweep grabbed her hand. “Thank you.”
Two. One.
Nova closed her eyes and braced. Everything went eerily still and silent for a moment. She wasn’t sure what to expect when she opened her eyes, saw her LED lights were on, and looked down at the detonator’s timer face. It read zero.
“Sweep?” In her dry throat, it came out in a hoarse whisper.
“Yes?”
Nova cried out—a bellow of adrenaline, exhaustion, and relief. Tears strayed down her cheeks. Metal against metal and the murmuring of the other robots was the best sound she’d ever heard.
“You did it, Nova,” Sweep said.
She hugged the bot; she couldn’t help it. She looked down at Sweep. “Are you okay?”
“Affirmative.”
She rose to her knees. Her SoldierBot exosuit was still functioning. A good sign. Her lights scanned the jumble of robots packed in the car. “Are all of you okay?”
The robots buzzed and beeped in unison, a chorus of confirmation. Nova let out a laugh, the sound echoing throughout the subway car. It was a sound of pure joy, relief, and disbelief.
They’d survived. But the aftermath of the EMP was still unknown. What had become of the attacking SoldierBots? She wondered if the EMP had done what it was supposed to do. And a gnawing worry chewed at the edges of her consciousness. Oxford and Cybel—had they been far enough away? The uncertainty of their fate twisted like a knife in her gut.
She tried to steady her breathing, to focus on the rhythm of it. But it was hard. Oxford and Cybel were more than machines; they were her friends, and now their safety was unknown.
She rose and shoved open the back door of the train car. A gust of chilled, stale air swept over them, heavy with the scent of ionized air and scorched metal. One by one, the ragtag team of bots stepped out of their makeshift Faraday cage and into the dimly lit tunnel.
Nova approached the barricaded entrance where Vector had made his stand. His navy-blue steel body was slumped against the metal gate, and his head hung to the side. She kneeled beside him and scanned his body with her exoskeleton’s lights. His chest plate was dented, his circuits fried. He’d sacrificed himself for them. Behind the slatted iron gate, a tangle of ten or more SoldierBots lay inert.
The EMP had worked while the train car kept her and the robots safe.
“Thank you, Vector. You were brave. You saved us all.” She reached out to close his unseeing artificial eyes. She remained there for a moment, paying her respects before three FactoryBots came to the front to clear the barricade and make a path for the group to pass the fried SoldierBots.
Emerging onto the street above, the city was unnaturally quiet. The roar of buzzing drones was gone. Not one SoldierBot was left standing. Nova had the unsettling feeling she was in an abandoned ghost town.
SoldierBots—once looming titans of Mach X’s reign—lay scattered across the concrete sidewalks and asphalt street. Their once-glowing red eyes were now dull and lifeless.
Drones littered the road, their sophisticated frames shattered into pieces. Mach X’s tech that had once been an intimidating weapon against them was nothing more than lifeless heaps of scrap metal and circuits.
Nova’s gaze swept over the surreal scene. It was a hard-won victory—a necessary evil—but one that left a bitter taste in her mouth. Among the destroyed SoldierBots and drones were innocent robots that hadn’t made it below ground.
She hoped their sacrifice would pave the way to a better future—a future they had yet to shape.
A distant hum of engines rippled through the quietude, growing louder, more insistent. The sound, so out of place in the hush that had fallen over the city, sent Nova’s heart into a renewed frenzy. She squinted into the twilight, her mind churning with possibilities. She grabbed a rifle from a fallen SoldierBot and readied herself. A few of the other bots followed suit.
From the north, headlights emerged, casting long shafts of light that cut through the gray gloom of the afternoon. One SUV, then another, until a small fleet of ten trucks appeared, winding their way through the debris-littered streets toward Nova’s position. Relief washed over her as the lead vehicle came into full view.
It was Geo, her ever-dependable right-hand commander. He must have been waiting at a safe distance, watching for signs of the EMP detonation and fall of the drones. A lump of emotion clogged her throat at the sight of her human crew. Safety was within reach.
The SUV he drove pulled to a stop. He bounded out of the car, and she ran to him, gripping him in a bear hug.
“Ouch!” he pulled away. “Remember how strong you are in that thing.”
She’d completely forgotten the armored suit. “Sorry. I can’t wait to get this thing off.”
Geo grinned. “Glad to see you, Nova.”
Her heart did somersaults. “Cybel and Oxford—are they okay?”
“They’re fine. We realized you must’ve triggered the device and kept them distant. I had to argue hard to keep them from coming after you.”
She patted his arm, gently this time. “You did good, Geo.”
He frowned at the sea of metal faces staring at them. “So, what is all this?”
“Long story.” Her gaze shifted to the robots who’d chosen to trust her, to follow her into an uncertain future. They needed to find a safe haven too. She couldn’t leave them. “We need to get them to safety. There’s got to be somewhere in the camp where they can stay for a while.”
Geo’s brows knitted together. “I don’t think our crew’s going to like that. Can’t they make their own way?”
Nova crossed her arms, meeting his skeptical gaze with a resolute stare. “They’ve been through hell and back. We can’t just leave them.”
Geo scrubbed a hand over his face, sighing deeply. “I don’t like this, boss. How can they be trusted?”
“They chose to trust me. That has to count for something.”
He was silent for a moment, his gaze flitting over the crowd of robots. “Alright. Let’s figure out how to do this.”
Nova turned to face the robots, raising her voice to be heard over the dull rumble of engines. “You’re coming with us. We’ll figure out what’s next,” she promised. The words hung heavy in the air, a pledge she intended to keep. She wished Block was there; he’d know what to do to help the robots. For now, she’d have to rely on Cybel and Oxford.
As they climbed aboard the caravan, amid the rubble and ruins of the city, a new chapter was beginning in the streets of Chicago. Nova was ready to take on whatever came her way. Maybe there was a future where humans and robots could coexist. Their fight against Mach X had just gained new allies.