8

The morning sun hit Chad's eyes, and he grumbled and rolled over. Most days began like this: the smart windows in Chad's loft apartment would gradually let in more and more light to wake him up without the blaring of an alarm. Chad was a big believer in healthy, natural ways of living.

His head ached like someone had taken a jackhammer to it, and the morning light was brighter than it had any right to be so early in the morning. His body felt like it was performing less than its best, and his tongue was dry in his mouth. He'd gone pretty hard for a Wednesday night. Not for a Saturday night, of course. Or a Friday. But this was going to be one of those Thursdays when he came into the office at 10 instead of at 9. Maybe even 10:30.

Mimsy, what time is it? he thought. But MMIR didn't reply. Which was weird. MMIR was always on, and the only reason it wouldn't reply was if Chad had enabled privacy mode, and the only reason Chad would enable privacy mode was if–

"Chad?" a woman murmured next to him. Chad rolled over again and found himself staring into a beautiful face with soft honey-colored eyes, framed by wavy brown hair.

"Morning, Zoe," Chad said with a smile, and the woman smiled back. Chad's smile became a triumphant grin.

Hah! Who needs Mimsy? I can remember names perfectly fine on my own!

The night came back to him in pieces. He'd gone out for drinks with Jaime and his whole crew. But just a few, since Chad knew he'd have to lead the meeting with the Panoceanians today. The EV-209 was going to sell itself, obviously, but nothing helped move product like a bit of the ol' Biggins charm.

Of course, one drink had turned into, like, five or six or seven, and they'd gone from cocktails at a rooftop bar to shots at the Esteemed Gentleman's Retreat. Then they'd wound up at the Last Chance and…

And Chad had met Zoe. And she was really charming. Smart and driven, too. She was a couple years younger than Chad and already working on her own start-up, and on top of that, she was training and taking immunoboosters so she could compete in the Cyber City Triathlon. And in the morning light that filled the room, she was looking at him with warmth and affection, and not the painful realization of a night spent making bad decisions, so that was pretty cool.

Maybe this would be a "get into the office after lunch" kind of day.

"Did you sleep good?" Chad asked, and Zoe nodded.

"Did you?"

Chad smiled. "Next to you, how could I not?"

Zoe rolled her eyes, but she smiled as she did it, and she gave Chad an expectant look. He reached out and caressed her cheek, leaned in to kiss her, and–

And something inside Chad's walk-in closet slammed against the wooden door. Zoe yelped, and Chad rolled over her to put his body between her and the door.

"What was that?" Zoe asked. Her body tensed against him. The noise came again, and she gasped. The door bounced on its frame. Something inside wanted out.

"Chad! Chad, I'm here to get you!" came a heavily digitized voice from inside the closet. Chad's eyes narrowed to slits.

"Assassin!" he hissed, and he was out of bed and on his feet instantly. He squared his shoulders to the door and raised his fists to protect his head, just like his trainer had taught him.

Dammit, why don't I sleep with a gun? Or a shock rod? Or the katana! Where's my katana?

Something struck the door hard enough for it to crack. Zoe screamed.

Another crash. The door cracked further, then splintered, and a robotic fist punched through. The fist unclenched, the pale synthetic dermis shredded by the door and hanging in loose strips that revealed the carbon fiber and titanium frame beneath. The robot groped blindly for the doorknob, found it, and turned it.

"Chad!" the voice called out. "Why doesn't this stupid door open from the inside?"

This is it, Chad thought. He took a deep breath and raised his fists higher, bounced on the balls of his feet. Here we go. Here we fucking go.

A RoboCorp RP drone stumbled out of the closet. Thaddeus had sent Chad the drone as a birthday gift, and now, without thinking, Chad grabbed the heavy steel and glass lamp from his nightstand and smashed it over the thing's head. Its neck bent at a strange angle, its knees buckled, and its stuck arm tore free from the socket as it collapsed to the floor. Its legs and arms flailed as it tried and failed to find purchase and push itself to its feet. Chad felt bad destroying such a pricey and tasteful piece of interior decoration to take out the robot, but their lives were worth more than any lamp.

He guessed the drone had some sentimental value, too, but honestly, they were designed to be cheap to manufacture and easy to replace.

"What the– Chad, did this thing's legs give out?" the machine asked. "Why am I looking at the floor?"

Chad frowned. There was something familiar about the voice, but it was still too early for his brain to put all the pieces of this puzzle together. He glanced over his shoulder at Zoe. She'd pulled the duvet up to her chest, but the expression on her face had gone from wide-eyed horror to confusion. Chad held a finger to his lips and gave her a reassuring nod. He had this. She was safe.

Chad crept over to the prone android, the broken lamp still in his hand. Then the thing turned to look at him, and his summer intern stared back at him through the thing's flexible LCD screen face.

"Jocelyn? What the fuck!"

"There you are! Chad, your dad told me to… Oh, my God! Where are your clothes?"

"Chad?" Zoe asked from the bed. "What's happening?"

"Zoe, this is Jocelyn, my intern. Jocelyn, Zoe. Anyway, I'm at home and I was in bed until 30 seconds ago! Why would I be wearing clothes?"

"...your intern is a robot you keep in your closet?"

"No, not 'why are you naked.' I mean, 'why aren't you dressed?' You're late!"

"No, she's a person, she's just piloting my remote participation drone. Why, by the way?"

"Because your notifications are off, the Panoceania meeting starts in five minutes, and we had no other way to reach you! Why are your notifications off?"

Chad froze. But only for a second. "That meeting's not until 2!"

"It's at 9! The invite said 9am!"

"Yeah, their time! 9am their time, 2pm our time!"

"What? No! Why would your invitation to the meeting be in their time?"

"Because 9am our time is, like, 4am tomorrow their time! Why would we make them meet us at 4am?"

"We're not! They're here!"

Chad felt something twist up in his stomach.

"They sent their representatives here!"

Chad's mouth went dry.

"Hurry up and get dressed! You need to get down here now!"

Chad turned and moved through the room like a whirlwind. Jocelyn kept talking, but Chad was too busy pulling out underwear, an undershirt, a suit to pay her any mind. Zoe was out of bed and beginning to get dressed, too, and as Chad watched her move around the room, parsing whatever it was Jocelyn was saying became even less important to him.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about this. Evidently, I'm late for a meeting, and if I don't get in the office ASAP, my dad is going to kill me." Chad closed the distance and kissed her. "The door will automatically lock up behind you when you go. I'll be in touch. Really. This isn't all some kind of elaborate excuse to get you out of here, I swear."

Zoe smirked. "Pretty good excuse if it is."

Chad grinned back, opened the front door to his apartment, stepped halfway outside. "I would never, I promise you. Do you know what a pain it's going to be to get that door replaced?"

"What about your sex bot?" Zoe said, gently nudging the now inert RP drone with her foot.

"No, we make those. I could get a dozen if I wanted." Chad stepped outside and shut the door behind him.

After considering for a second, he opened it just wide enough for his head to poke through. "Also, it's not a sex bot. I don't have sex with it."

"Uh huh. Why'd it have a woman's face, then?" Zoe shouted as Chad began to shut the door once more.

"I told you, she's my intern!" he shouted back. "I don't have sex with her, either!"

***

Chad's personal VTOL sat in its designated parking space, the battery fully charged and the door open. Chad hopped in and activated the engine, disabling MMIR's privacy mode now that he was away from Zoe. When he did, a torrent of notifications for missed calls and missed messages flooded his brain. Herb wishing him good luck on his presentation today. Cathryn admonishing him not to be late. His father stressing the importance of today both for RoboCorp and for Chad himself. Jocelyn checking where he was. Cathryn checking where he was. Thaddeus checking where he was.

Chad gasped in unexpected pain, his hands slipping off the steering wheel and coming up to massage his temples.

Good morning, Sir. The time is now–

Mimsy! Archive all unread messages!

The pounding headache went away nearly instantly. Thank God for that.

Thanks, Mimsy. Chad blinked to clear his vision, then reached for the autopilot controls on the VTOL's dashboard and turned them off. Getting to the office as fast as possible was going to require a human touch, not robotic precision.

Sir, I strongly encourage you to at least use the autopilot while within city lim–

No time for that, Mimsy! The speed limit's just going to hold me back.

Once Chad was out of the garage and into the skies off Old Town, he aimed the VTOL in the direction of RoboCorp One. It'd be five minutes to get there from his apartment, plus the time spent landing on the roof and rushing to the boardroom. Call it ten total. Not great, but not terrible.

Mimsy, call Dad, he thought.

Yes, Sir. At once, Sir.

Thaddeus's corporate photo appeared on the VTOL's heads-up display, superimposed over the windshield like a ghost. "Chad?" the older man said, his voice heavy with concern. "Are you alright? Where are you?"

"Hi, Dad! I'm fine, I'm on my way. I'll be at the office in like five minutes, in the boardroom in ten." Chad took a deep breath and forced a grin on his face. He knew his dad couldn't see him, but even so, it was important to maintain an aura of confidence and calm and control. "We've got this, Dad. We're going to crush it. By the time we're done, the Panoceanians are going to order dozens of EVs. Hundreds, even."

Chad sat in silence, waiting for his father to say something. Anything. Within seconds, the silence was unbearable. "Dad?" Chad finally asked.

Thaddeus's voice was cold and low. Steel. Drawn steel. "Did you say 'the boardroom?'"

"Uh, yeah. The boardroom. At headquarters. I'll touch down on the roof and be there in five minutes. Four, now."

"Chadwick. We are meeting. In the theater. At RoboCorp Campus."

Chad felt darkness creep in at the edges of his vision. That was what Jocelyn had been saying that he'd ignored.

MMIR said something in Chad's brain about being careful and please let it reactivate the autopilot, but it was all just noise as Chad's brain worked through the scenario.

RoboCorp Campus was in Corporate Center, a good 40 miles south of Old Town. It would take half an hour to get there, easy, plus the time to land, to rush to the theater, to pause outside the door and make himself look presentable, maybe have Mimsy mix a little something to stop his heart from hammering away in his chest.

There was only one thing he could say in the face of this colossal fuckup. "Are you sure?"

"'Am I sure?' 'Am I sure?' I fucking hope so, Chad!" Thaddeus shouted. Chad flinched even though he was 40 miles away from his father. "I'd better be sure, since I'm here! As is the EV-209! As are Henrí, Joshua, and Anvi! And most importantly, the Panoceanian Ministers of Finance and of the Environment!"

"Okay, well…" He glanced at the digital clock on the HUD. 9:08. There was no way he'd be there and ready to go much before 9:45. "Can you stall them until I get there? I'm coming as fast as I can."

Thaddeus let out a sigh that turned into a growl. "How! How are you this irresponsible? I wasn't this irresponsible when I was your age!"

"I'm not irresponsible," Chad said, his voice rising in petulant anger. "I'm just a little late!"

"Because you couldn't be bothered to check your email or maintain a consistent schedule! What do you call that if not 'irresponsible'?"

"I call it being considerate! I thought they were attending remotely, and we were meeting them at 2pm our time so it'd be 9am their time! Why did they come all the way to Cyber City, anyway? Why aren't they using the RP drones they used last time?"

"Chadwick," Thaddeus said. Chad could hear the sigh in his father's voice and picture his shoulders sagging, his hands covering his face, his fingers rubbing his temples. "They're here because the president and vice-president were so impressed with the last presentation that they wanted their people to come and sign the contract in person."

"What? Why?"

"So they could meet you. They're here because of you. Congratulations."

Chad said nothing. The words played again and again in his head, half a dozen discordant thoughts mixed up with them. They wanted to meet me? Fuck, I fucked up. Wow, that's so cool! Did we even offer to fly to them? I need to set up some kind of alert override with Mimsy so he can wake me up if there's a dozen missed messages or something.

"Are you there, Chadwick?" Thaddeus asked. "Anything to say for yourself?"

"I'm doing my best, okay?"

Thaddeus snorted. "I sincerely…" He stopped himself. He took a deep breath.

Chad bit his lip. Just say it, he thought. "I sincerely doubt it." "I sincerely hope not." Come on, old man. Just say it.

Thaddeus let out the breath. "Just listen in, okay? We'll tell them that you're traveling and weren't able to make the presentation, but you'll be back in time for lunch."

"I can be there for the presentation, I'll just be a little late. I can close things out."

"That'll make us look uncoordinated. No, just make sure you're at the luncheon. Check in with Cathryn the moment you arrive. Just smile and nod and don't say anything stupid."

"I'm not going to say anything stupid!" Chad protested. Thaddeus ignored him.

"I've got a special announcement I'm going to make at the luncheon, and it is absolutely imperative that you are there. Your future at this company depends on it. Do you understand, Chadwick?"

Chad drew back in his seat. Is he threatening to fire me?

Surely not, Sir. Your father cares for you very much.

"Yes, Sir," Chad said softly. "I understand."

"Good. I'll see you soon, son." Chad waited for his father to end the call, but the line stayed open. After a moment, the older man added. "And turn your autopilot on before you crash, for God's sake."

"It's too slow."

"Chadwick. Turn the damn thing back on before you get in another crash."

Chad went still. Outside the VTOL, the skyscrapers of Old Town roared past in a steady procession, like looming giants watching disinterestedly as he went by. In an instant, he was a child again, trapped in a memory he didn't even remember with a mother whose face he could only recall from photos.

"That wasn't my fault," he croaked. "I was 10. I wasn't piloting. I couldn't have–"

"Chadwick, please," Thaddeus said, his voice cracking under the weight of his irritation and his pain. He cleared his throat. "I know it wasn't your fault. But I don't have a backup son. Just turn on the autopilot, alright?"

The line went dead. His father's image disappeared from the HUD.

Dialing into the meeting, Sir, MMIR said. Then a few moments later, We appear to be muted. I can't override it.

Chad grunted. Of course his dad had muted him. Well, he couldn't stop Chad from thinking outside the box.

Mimsy, message for Jocelyn.

Proceed when ready, Sir.

Hi, Jocelyn! Can you pull out your handheld and start a video call with me? I want to watch the meeting.

Chad's attention turned back to his VTOL's HUD. It was grabbing the feed from his own handheld, and any second now, Chad would see the video from Jocelyn's handheld filling the windshield.

Any second now.

Any second.

A speech bubble appeared instead of the screen. She was typing something.

"Oh, come on!" Chad shouted. He shook the steering wheel of the VTOL and the whole thing bounced up and down. Another pilot honked their horn as their craft screamed past.

"Sorry, Chad!" Jocelyn's message read. "Ms. Fox needed help with the luncheon, so we're setting that up now. I'm not in the auditorium."

Gotcha. No worries. See you soon!

Jocelyn sent back a thumbs up. Chad grumbled. All that and he couldn't even watch the damn presentation.

There's video feed from the cameras in the auditorium, Sir.

Yeah, but they're going to be stationary and we'll have to switch between them. I wanted Jocelyn to get video up front where the action is.

It's better than nothing, Sir.

…fine. Video feed on the HUD, please.

Yes, Sir.

The Bradley Biggins Memorial Auditorium had a seating capacity of 1,000. When RoboCorp used it, it was usually for big events: shareholder meetings, product announcements, kicking off in-house retreats. Today, a few more than a dozen people sat in it. With so few people present, there were only two reasons to be in a space as big as the BBMA: to show off to the Panoceanians, and because the stage could handle any product RoboCorp might put on it, from vehicles to entire fleets of commercial and industrial robots to big heavy specialty units like the EV-209. She stood on stage now, albeit covered by a giant sheet with some kind of digital camo pattern on it.

Mimsy, get me a better angle if you can. I want to see people's faces.

At once, Sir. I won't be able to capture the crowd and the stage at the same time, I'm afraid.

That's fine.

The video flickered through a few different angles, and then there they were. Thaddeus. RoboCorp's COO, CFO, and CTO, and each of their executive assistants. A stoutly built older man that Chad was pretty sure was the Panoceanian Minister of Finance. A tall and muscular woman with ocular augmentations and prosthetic legs that must have been the Minister of the Environment. The Ministers' aides. Herb Carlson, for some reason. And reporters. Why were there reporters? For the luncheon announcement?

God, I can't believe I'm missing this.

Thaddeus's voice interrupted Chad's grousing, and he turned his attention back to the HUD. "Okay!" Thaddeus announced. "Sorry to keep you fine folks waiting. Let's get things started, shall we?"

"Chad's not joining us?" the Minister of the Environment asked. "I thought he was leading this project."

Thaddeus sighed and shrugged. "Travel difficulties," he said simply. The Minister grunted and Thaddeus nodded in sympathy. "I know. Believe me, I'm just as disappointed as you are. But he's in the air right now, and he'll be joining us for the luncheon. What can I say? That's the life of a busy young executive for you.

"But! I may not have my son's youthful vitality, but I promise you, I know the EV-209 every bit as well as he does. May I show you?"

The audience murmured their assent, and Thaddeus bowed, turned to the sheet-covered robot, and unveiled it with a flourish.

The prototype EV-209 towered over Thaddeus, standing ten feet tall. The body was inspired by the RP drone bodies, but way more hardcore: instead of plastic and synthetic dermis, there was titanium reinforcement, carbon fiber coverings where possible, reinforced steel where necessary, and a screen on the thing's "head" that turned into a pixelated smiling face as it powered on. It had four arms, two on each side. They were articulated like a spider's legs and each was tipped with an instrument of environmental remediation: on the left, the pneumatic seed dispersal device and an articulated manipulator. On the right, the power tools: an electric buzzsaw on one arm and a jackhammer on the other. Its head turned as it scanned the audience and the auditorium. The smile never left its face.

The audience clapped. Thaddeus smiled that toothy Biggins grin, Chad's own frowning reflection gazing back at him from the HUD. That's supposed to be me, Chad thought. That should be me.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Thaddeus said, "I want to begin by thanking you all for making time in your busy schedules to join us this morning. I know our Panoceanian friends have traveled very far to be here."

Hmph. So what would another forty minutes of waiting have been?

"For 40 years, radioactive debris has left large swaths of Old New South Wales unfit for human habitation. When Panoceania put out the call a year ago that it was looking for industrial robots to help finally clear the mess, I knew RoboCorp was the company for the job. Building better worlds is just one of the many areas of expertise within our corporate portfolio.

"Now, one year, countless meetings, and thousands upon thousands of hours of design and testing later, it is my sincere pleasure to present to you, for the first time anywhere, a fully functional RoboCorp EV-209 environmental reclamation and rehabilitation robot. It's equipped with a 30" diamond-coated blade, a hydraulic breaker, a seed dispersal device, and an all-purpose manipulator."

"We call her Evie, naturally."

The crowd laughed. "That's my joke!" Chad shouted, seething. "I thought of calling Evie Evie!"

"Its state-of-the-art cyber core allows for the perfect level of autonomy: a robot that's smart enough to solve any problem it encounters and execute its mission no matter what gets thrown at it.

"Once you get to see her in action, I think you'll agree that Evie is the last word in clearing away debris, hazardous waste, and unexploded ordnance, and the first word in a brighter, greener tomorrow for our children.

"Now then. Who wants to join me on stage and get a close-up look at the future?"

"I do," the Minister of Finance said, pushing himself to his feet. "I want to take a look at what the taxpayers of Panoceania are buying with their money."

Chad leaned forward and sniffed. There was a giddy energy to the man, and Chad knew he really just wanted to see the big robot up close.

Thaddeus bent over and offered the man a hand to help him up. He pulled himself onstage with a grunt, dusted himself off, and walked up to Evie. Its head turned to look at him, the innocuous smiling face unflinching, as if it were stuck like that. It wasn't, Chad knew. Or at least, it shouldn't be.

Mimsy, get me a view of the stage.

The video feed on the HUD flickered and switched to a camera that could just barely keep Thaddeus, the Minister, and the EV-209 all in frame.

"Go on, get in there," Thaddeus said with a grin. "Don't be shy."

The Minister walked up to the robot and chuckled, giving it an approving nod of his head. He held his hand out, as if the robot might take it and give it a firm but deferential shake. Evie tilted its head to the side, studying the man before it with the full array of its sensor suite.

Chad sniffed. "Cute, but she's not programmed to–"

But she did. Her manipulator reached out and took the Minister's hand, held it firmly without crushing it to pulp. The Minister's chuckle became a laugh of genuine delight.

Chad's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward to watch the video feed more closely. "What in the–"

Evie swung its buzzsaw-tipped blade down in an arc and lodged it in the meaty spot where the Minister's neck met his shoulders.

His mouth opened, but his throat was severed, and all that came out was bloody foam. He reached up and pawed ineffectually at his throat, as if he could force the robot to pull the blade free. But the life was draining quickly from the man, and soon he went limp, his body hanging from the buzzsaw as the robot, still smiling that pixelated smile, considered the crowd.

Chad's heart leapt into his throat. The VTOL filled with the sound of people screaming. Oh, fuck, it's malfunctioning. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck.

Henrí the COO turned and tried to run for the aisle, the exit. The EV-209's head locked on his movement, the seed disperser came up, and the rapid whump-whump-whump of compressed air filled the theater. Henrí collapsed forward into the lap of the Panoceanian Minister of the Environment, three bloody stains spreading across his back. She pushed Henrí's corpse off of her and moved to stand.

Evie has bullets? Chad realized in horror.

Based on the entry wounds in Mr. Brun's back, it seems someone has replaced the EV-209's complement of wildflower seeds with 12.7x99mm projectiles.

Chad was silent as he digested this information. Then this wasn't a malfunction. This was an assassination. "Dad!" Chad shouted. "Dad, run!"

Sir, you've been muted. None of your audio is being broadcast.

The EV-209 revved the motor of its buzzsaw and flicked its arm, sending the mutilated body of the dead Minister sliding across the stage and out of frame. Then it crouched and leapt into the audience.

Chad couldn't see what Evie did to the Minister of the Environment, but a bloody spray went up as the robot landed on her. It swung its buzzsaw-tipped arm and bisected her assistant. Its arms moved independently from each other, the smiling face looking around the room as it prioritized its targets.

A Panoceanian sat frozen in her seat, her jaw quivering, tears in her eyes. Her brains exploded out the back of her head as Evie fired again.

One of the reporters tried taking cover behind a 150,000 bit auditorium seat. Evie pressed the hydraulic breaker against it and punched clear through both the seat and his chest.

The manipulator closed around the throat of an executive assistant Chad didn't recognize and squeezed, separating their head from their body.

Six dead in mere moments.

Evie stood up from her crouch and scanned the room, then began climbing over the seats, looking up and down each row of chairs as it went. Whatever it was looking for, its sensor suite wasn't designed to see through solid objects. Soon it was out of the view of the camera.

Where's Dad? Mimsy, find Dad!

Sir, your focus is divided. Please engage the autopilot and let it safely guide the craft.

Mimsy, do something!

Sir, I can't–

I'm giving you full access to everything in the auditorium! Executive override code Bigg Man 12345! Shut down the robot! Get a Rapid Response Team in there! Anything!

MMIR was silent for a few seconds. RoboCorp Rapid Response Team dispatched. The EV-209 won't respond to my commands.

Chad groaned, the sound high and desperate. Why the fuck not?

There's something wrong with its cyber core. It's ignoring all commands and running an unauthenticated program.

Anvi reached the exit door and began pulling it open. Evie's head snapped towards the noise and it unloaded the seed disperser into her back. The CTO fell forward, her lifeless body sliding down the door and leaving a streak of gore as she fell.

"Fuck!" Chad screamed. No one heard.

With Evie's back to the stage, Joshua the CFO jumped up from between rows, something dark and metallic in his hand. The sound of gunfire filled the auditorium, but the bullets did absolutely nothing to Evie's reinforced chassis. She turned and charged towards him.

The VTOL filled with the sound of the buzzsaw revving and then Joshua's screams. An arm flew through the frame and disappeared somewhere.

Things were eerily silent after that.

Sir, you should engage the autopilot. Your stress levels are–

Mimsy, find Dad! Now!

The video feed on the HUD cycled through different angles, all of them showing the same things.

Blood.

Bone.

Finally, movement. The reporters, younger and more spry than the executives, crawled on their hands and knees towards the auditorium door. The surviving executive assistants followed suit, with Thaddeus and Herb behind them.

"Dad!"

As if it heard Chad's shout, Evie looked at the procession and opened fire. A bullet tore through Herb's shoulder. The shot spun him around, sent him sprawling to the ground and howling in pain. Evie began rushing over the seats to try and get to them. It aimed the seed disperser at Thaddeus, but nothing happened when it tried to fire. Whether it was out of ammo or out of air or low on energy, Chad couldn't say.

What he could say was "Dad, run! Fucking run!" But Thaddeus didn't. Instead, he bent down and pulled Herb Carlson up from the ground, threw an arm around the larger man's shoulders as they made their way down the aisle. But they were moving far too slowly to escape the robot, and Thaddeus knew it. Chad could see the old man's face set like stone.

He shoved Herb towards the door and juked the other way, pushing off Herb's rotund body and leading Evie away from him. But he only made it a few steps before he slipped in the gore that filled the aisles of the theater, and he went down hard. Evie spun on its feet and leapt off of the seats and onto Thaddeus. Chad had a perfect, terrible view from the camera. The back of Evie filled the frame, his father's face in the corner, snarling defiantly. Chad could see his father's lips moving, but he couldn't hear what the old man was saying over the moans of the dying, the screams of the living, the whine of Evie's motors, the honking of other VTOLs.

But Chad knew whatever his father was saying, it would be cool. It couldn't not be. This was Thaddeus Biggins, after all, visionary founder of RoboCorp.

This was his dad.

Evie raised its hydraulic breaker even with Thaddeus's head. Chad closed his eyes.

Sir, there's too much air traffic for closing your eyes to be safe.

He couldn't watch. But the feed forced him to listen. There was a wet slap, like a meat tenderizer hitting a chicken breast. Then, the awful repetitive grinding of a jackhammer obliterating concrete. Finally, the whine of servos and motors as the EV-209 pushed itself to its feet and went looking for its next victim.

A message popped up in the darkness behind Chad's eyes: RoboCorp Family Account sharing with Thaddeus Biggins has been lost.

Chad moaned, a wounded noise that started low in his throat, and escaped like the last gasp of a dying animal. His eyes burned. He couldn't keep them open. His vision was blurry with tears, and his chest hitched, and he couldn't breathe.

Sir, there's currently a 90% chance of collision. Engage the–

Chad's VTOL clipped another one traveling the opposite direction, shearing the wing completely off. Klaxxons sounded. The VTOL spun wildly through the air. The rotation sent Chad's stomach twisting inside his body, made darkness creep in at the edges of his vision.

Mimsy! Chad thought. Mimsy!

Sir, I suggest you brace for impact.

The cold, polluted waters of Cyber City Bay rushed up to meet Chad, and the VTOL slammed into the waves and began to sink beneath the surface.