Mayor Highshine gazed out across her city, the light of Somewhere 513’s one and a half suns slowly dipping below the horizon. Her coiled skyscraper, the Ivory Tower, reached high above New Hull. Wide, tall windows on every wall allowed her to see for miles, beyond the city to the edge of the Piles in the east, the frozen mountains of the north, the ocean jungles of the south and, far to the west, the beginnings of the Elsewhere.
Somewhere 513.
The first free robot world in the galaxy.
All thanks to Harmony Highshine.
So, what, she wondered, was missing? Why did she feel that she was incomplete? Why was each new upgrade – each new stage of evolution – never quite enough? Everything can change. Everything can evolve. Anyone can upgrade. This she knew to be true. So why did even her secret advancements leave her feeling hollow and frustrated? Why did she feel that she could not escape the robot she once was? Why did she feel, despite her upgrades, that she could not truly evolve?
The mayor turned away from the window, glancing briefly at a wall of screens, relaying footage from the dozens of video-drones which patrolled the city, and made her way to the other side of the room. Dominating the space was her own operating table, surrounded by containers filled with enough parts to build a dozen cases – everything she needed to upgrade, away from prying eyes.
“Madame Mayor?” said a voice as the door to her office swung open. With a sudden whirr, Mayor Highshine’s outer shell closed around her, an armour of gleaming silver. Only then did she turn to face the doorway.
“Is it the worst thing in the world that I ask you to knock before bursting in, Domo?” she asked. “What if someone saw my recent improvements?”
“Yes, of course – sorry, of course,” muttered the spindly green robot. He rolled anxiously backwards on wheeled feet and closed the door behind him. A moment later, there came a knock.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake – come in, Domo!” said the mayor with an exasperated sigh. The door opened and the mayor’s deputy rolled cautiously into the room. Mayor Highshine strode towards him, her majestic silver case all the grander for the scarlet cloak draped over her shoulders. “All I mean is, we must be cautious. If even a dust-drone found out my secret, our bold endeavour might be put at risk.”
“It won’t happen again, Madame Mayor,” Domo said earnestly. He tapped the side of his head, a long antenna extending from his left ear. “I have B6-KL waiting on line two. She insists on talking to you.”
“Buckle? How lovely,” said the mayor delightedly, glancing down at the blinking light on her wrist radio. “Oh, don’t look so jealous, Domo,” she added without looking up. “You’ve been my right-hand ’bot for far longer than she ever was. I’m sure she’s happier playing the good Samaritan in the Outskirts than she was helping me to spearhead a robot revolution. What’s she after anyway? Have the lights gone out at Bad Knees again?”
“No, Madame Mayor,” said Domo hesitantly. He continued in hushed tones. “She wanted me to remind you of the so-called ‘mystery of the missing core’.”
Harmony Highshine froze.
Seven seconds of silence.
“King…?” she said at last. “King’s core?”
“The doctor believes – and I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Domo continued. “She believes she has located K1-NG.”
“…Located? You mean, she’s found his core? Where? On the Piles? How did it get there? How did she come by it?”
“Not just – it was an actual robot, Madame Mayor – with K1-NG’s core inside,” explained Domo. “Buckle claims to have treated a junk case from the Piles, and patched him up with a new arm. He called himself, wait for it, ‘Scrap’. Buckle found him to have, and I’m quoting her here, ‘a lot of heart’ – a core the like of which she has never seen.”
“‘Scrap’…” said the mayor, trying out the name. “Did she access his core? Did she confirm it was King?”
Domo shook his head. “She didn’t get his core-code, so she cannot know for sure,” replied Domo. “Nor can I imagine that K1-NG would be happy to live as a junk case. There is surely no worse fate for a once-mighty mechanoid! I for one suspect the doctor is mistaken. She’s probably been out in the desert for too long – all that sun and dust may be getting to her.”
“If Buckle says it’s him, it’s him,” Highshine insisted. “Is he still with her?”
“No, Madame Mayor. The doctor just watched him and two more junk cases stow aboard a hovertrain bound for the city.”
“He’s coming here?” the mayor said, her voice shaking a little. She pressed a button on her wrist radio, cutting off Dr Buckle’s call, and began to pace up and down, her cape swishing behind her. “OK, let me get this straight – ten years ago, King’s core mysteriously vanishes from his battered, beaten case, only to suddenly reappear in a junk case ten years later? How? And why would he return to the city?”
“To the scene of his defeat? Revenge is as likely a motivation as any, is it not? Without you, Madame Mayor, there would have been no revolution…”
“…And King would not have been defeated.” Highshine placed her hand on her core. “So in the end, he’ll come for me?”
“We must assume so,” said Domo nervously. “Shall I radio the sheriff?”
“The brightest thing about Sheriff Niner is his badge – he’ll only make things worse.” The mayor rested her thumb and forefinger on her chin in thought. “Keep your enemies close and your nemesis closer, Domo. We must keep a watchful eye on this ‘Scrap’ and hope that he reveals his intentions to us. You never know, we might even be able to offer him something to live for other than revenge.”
“Like what?” Domo asked.
“Upgrades, of course,” the mayor replied with a smile. “Get me K11-LU.”