Machines - Jason M. Green (dark academia books to read txt) 📗

Chapter 1

The silence that permeated the narrow hallways of the Last Stop Hotel was suddenly broken by an unusual cacophony of sounds that set many of the tenants’ nerves on edge. Upon hearing these noises, many of the people who were using the hotel as a sort of refuge immediately stopped what they were doing and slowly approached their doors, the majority of them clutching objects that could be used as weapons if the need arose. A great number of eyes looked out through peepholes, keyholes, and any other space that would allow them a clear view of what lay outside their doors, as they impatiently waited to catch a glimpse of what had intruded into their lives. The noise continued to get closer, and some thought they recognized it, but it wasn't until they could see clearly what was moving through the hallways that they began to relax again, though many still stared into the hallway with suspicion and at least a trace of nervous anticipation, as they wondered if their lives were going to be significantly affected by this new arrival.

The squat, battered body of the robotic messenger rattled as it rolled down the hallway of the hotel on a set of retractable treads, occasionally hitting lumps in the carpeting that caused it to rattle even louder. The noise echoed throughout the quiet corridors while the messenger slowly scanned each door it reached with an independent third eye, as it tried to match the number on the door with the names in the hotel registry. At the far end of the hallway it finally found a match and stopped with the sounds of clacking and clanging. Its body creaked as it slowly rose into something resembling a standing position, and its metal arm rose equally slow until it was about an inch from the door, and then the arm swung forward a few times against the pockmarked door before stopping for three seconds, and then it resumed knocking.
This cycle of knocking and pausing it repeated for many minutes, because its primary set of programming told it not to stop until someone accepted the package it was carrying, which accounted for some of the dings and dents in the messenger’s chassis.

A constant knocking on the door of his small hotel room pulled a young man named Jobe Corithese from a deep meditative state. He sat up and scanned the room quickly before looking towards the door. Cautiously, he rose from the bed and pulled a pistol from beneath the flat mattress, before he slowly walked across the stained linoleum floor. Before he even reached the door, he put his finger near the trigger and calmly asked who was knocking.
A tinny, monotone voice outside of the door said, “I have a delivery for a Mr.
Nacalis.” The messenger paused to give the information time to sink in, as was another aspect of its programming, and then it resumed speaking. “According to the hotel registry this room is currently occupied by Mr. Nacalis.”
Jobe sighed and moved his finger away from the trigger. “Just leave whatever you are carrying outside the door and put the delivery charge on my room bill,” he responded with a curt tone.
The words just spoken ran through the messenger’s robotic mind until it comprehended the meaning of them, and then it said, “As you wish, sir.” The messenger’s body adjusted itself until it was back to its original position, and then it touched a panel on its chest and a door swung open on its box-like middle. It pulled out the small package it was transporting, and after gently placing the package on the floor, the messenger noisily rolled away from the door. It kept going down the hall until it noticed a hooded person huddled in the doorway of a room that had been marked off-limits because of a recent homicide. Its eyes flashed as it used its link to the hotel registry’s database to find out if there was a new registered occupant for that room, but gave up after getting a hostile glance from the person it was staring at, which it guessed was a woman based on what little of the face was revealed when the person looked up. Then it noisily rolled down the hallway towards the stairwell, going faster than was usually necessary, and when it reached the stairwell it unfolded a quartet of spider-like walking legs and retracted its treads to allow it to go down the stairs with only minimal difficulty.

Jobe removed the chair he had wedged under the doorknob and slowly pushed the door open while keeping his pistol ready. As he saw the robotic messenger unfolding its walking legs to allow it to navigate the stairs, he picked up the small box, which made a rattling noise as he moved it, and he carried it into his room. After making sure the door was securely closed, he placed the package on an uneven table and stuck his pistol into the back of his pants. Slowly, he opened the small box and found that it contained a Handheld Personal Database.
Jobe cautiously picked up the HPD and turned it on. After it booted up he saw that it contained a data file and a video file. Deciding to access the data file first, he highlighted the file and pressed enter, which opened up a list of names. Figuring that the names would be of some significance after reviewing the video file, he opened up a compartment on the side of the HPD, which contained a pair of cords and an earpiece, and removed one of the cords. After uncoiling it, he plugged one end of the cord into the output jack on the side of the HPD. Then he pushed his long, dark hair to one side to reveal a set of four access ports at the base of his skull, and gently inserted the other end of the cord into one of the input ports. Next he highlighted the file and told the HPD to send the file to an external device, and then he waited patiently, as the information was copied and downloaded directly into his brain.
As soon as the information was inside his head, he plugged in the earpiece, stuck the earpiece in his ear, and accessed the video file. It took a few seconds for the video to load, and when it did there was a male avatar on the screen, which resembled an older gentleman with a long white mustache and mutton-chop sideburns. Jobe didn’t recognize the avatar being used, but that didn’t surprise him much since there were so many available to people. Then he pressed play and the avatar spoke in a digitized male voice that said, “Mr. Nacalis, you are currently being watched by officers of the Global Security Department, and they will undoubtedly break into your room about five minutes after you receive the package I have sent to you. There is a comm-booth approximately a block away from the building you are currently staying in. As soon as you get to it I will know, and I will then contact you. Do not discard this HPD until you talk to me again, or I’ll not be able to track you to the comm-booth.” The message ended, and then the video file deleted itself.
Jobe removed the earpiece and glanced at his watch. He saw that he still had around four minute before the GSD would allegedly arrive, so he switched which jacks the cord was plugged into, and used a menu to access the database inside his head. Then he downloaded some files onto the HPD that he figured he would have a use for very soon. Once the files were downloaded, he quickly disconnected the cord from the back of his neck, tucked the HPD inside his shirt pocket, and grabbed his jacket from the back of a crooked chair. He zipped up the jacket to make sure the HPD would stay inside his shirt, and then he opened the door and quietly stepped into the hallway. As soon as he stepped out, he heard the sounds of heavy boots echoing in the stairwells to the right, and so he ran down the hallway in the opposite direction. He saw glimpses of people looking out the doors he passed, but he didn't bother to warn them, even though most of them were probably wanted by various law enforcement organizations for things they had done in their pasts, too.
From behind Jobe came a voice, which he could tell was being filtered through a helmet speaker. “Stop where you are or I’ll open fire! This is the only warning I’m going to give you!” the person yelled.
Jobe thought about stopping for barely half a second, then kept on running, as he heard the barely audible click of the trigger as it was slowly pulled back, and he heard the bullet sliding into the chamber. After the final click of the trigger, half a dozen light armor-piercing, 10mm shells blasted towards him. He dodged with unnatural speed, diving to one side and rolling, and the bullets tore apart the plaster covering the walls of the cheap hotel. As he finished his roll, he came up on one knee, facing the officer who was firing at him. Without hesitation, he pulled his pistol from the back of his pants, and taking a two-handed grip on the gun, he fired once. As the officer’s bullets whistled around him, Jobe’s single bullet struck the officer just below the knee, right where the leg armor was weakest.
Jobe heard the distinctive sound of bone fragmenting, as the bullet‘s impact sent shockwaves through the officer‘s tibia and patella, and then he ran down the hall towards the only window on the floor that led to a fire escape. He heard more officers trying to force their way past their injured comrade, as he blocked the narrow hallway, and then they too began firing at him, as they gave up trying to move the injured man. However, in their haste to stop the man who shot one of their fellow officers, none of them took the time to aim their guns anywhere more specific than down the hall towards their quarry.
Bullets ripped through Jobe’s jacket, as he shoved his gun into the back of his pants once more, and he felt blood trickling slowly down his body. However, he didn't stop moving, and instead picked up speed and dove through the shattered window at the end of the hall. Landing on the fire escape, he immediately measured the distance to the ground to be at least eight meters and the distance to the roof to be only a little more than three meters. His decision was made in a split second, as he climbed onto the edge of the fire escape and looked up, as bullets tore past him and struck the brick on the building across the street, sending small explosions of dust and dirt into the air as they impacted.
Jobe heard the rusted metal of the fire escape pulling loose from the exterior wall of the hotel, and with all of the power in his legs, he leapt up and grabbed the edge of the fire escape above him, just as the other one detached from the building and crashed into the alleyway. He then pulled himself onto that fire escape, as the rusty metal creaked ominously, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to use the fire escape to reach the roof without it falling apart as well. So he instead broke the window in front of him and climbed