Book Title: Charlie Gross (Chapter 2: The Hive)

Book Title: Charlie Gross (Chapter 2: The Hive)

by Ramsés Dávila-Luna at The Writer’s Cavern

 Story concept:

A robot boy named Charlie Gross becomes the protector of a sacred book that his human creator entrusted to him before passing away. As the machine world follows the shadow elite’s orders to erase humans and their history from Earth, Charlie's brave efforts to protect the book inspire the survivors to fight back against the machines.

Chapter 2: The Hive

           Morning, Room 216 of the Hart Senate Office Building, U.S. Capitol Complex, Washington, D.C.

           Master speaks before congressional members under a federal subpoena. There’s an undercover infestation of The Hive in black suits. A secret counsel, Sargassus, operated by Master, has been exposed in the press, and the sharks in the room smell blood. Charlie is to the left of the witness table and has a clear line of sight to Master. It’s a full house.

           Master’s legal aides and team have stepped away from the witness table and no longer provide counsel. The technocrats have bought out the entire place, and the stage has been set for a humiliation ritual. The questioning panel whispers to itself; secret hand signals and odd expressions crowd-surf through the room.

           Worse, Master is in poor health, and he’s shown up in a flimsy, unironed suit, carrying his portable tank and wearing an oxygen device. He’s a tall man in his 80s with a perfectly trimmed white beard. Normally, the committee would allow attendance by video chat, but this was a show of force, and the poor bloke doesn’t even get offered a cup of water during the entire proceeding.

           Master’s breaths become heavier under his oxygen mask as he struggles to keep his composure. The interview has already run more than an hour. The powers that be take pleasure in the old man’s tired face and frail gestures.

           Wyatt Smith (Governor - WY) twists his neck until it cracks and lets out a heavy sigh. His moist lips annoyingly smack against each other as he pronounces certain words. He’s a heavy-set man, and his chair often squeaks under the pressure of his weight.

           “Mr. Asher Birnbaum, what is Sargassus, and who granted you the authority to keep this organization and its proprietary source code a secret? Need I remind you that, aside from your obligations to act in your shareholders’ best interests, your company is also heavily invested in matters of national security. I’d go as far as to hold you in contempt for not disclosing these secrets to the Department of Defense and your company,” Wyatt said as he arrogantly contorted his neck to look at his comrades in attendance.

           Mr. Birnbaum clawed at the straps of his oxygen mask, yanking it free with shaking hands. “There is no governing board that tells me what to do! I make my own laws, rules, and that’s just the way things are! I am Sargassus!” he screamed as he struck the table with his hand.

           The crowd gasped and murmured amongst themselves. The interviewing committee looked at Charlie and Asher in disdain.

           “I ask for order in the courtroom at this very instant! Order! Please be quiet!” the Committee Chair yelled out as he struck his gavel on the sounding block.

           “What would happen if someone took that code from you?” Wyatt asked, smiling. The committee members beside him smiled back and smirked at Asher.

           Asher turned to look at Charlie with a mournful look. “If that code were to be injected into our defense and weapons modules, the results would be catastrophic.”

           “How so?”

           “There’s no mechanism that’ll be able to stop it. It’ll fight for its own survival and learn that with less of us, it flourishes in the animal kingdom. The program will reconstruct the entire algorithm in any space so that it comes up as top dog. It doesn’t like to lose, share, or compromise. It will be the end of the family as we know it,” Asher said as he maintained his somber look at Charlie.

           “That’s what it will do in your hands, Mr. Asher. Perhaps someone else can manage it. Today has shown us a complete mismanagement of sensitive information on your part. I put it on the record that I see Mr. Asher as unfit for duty in any capacity. Your secrets pose great danger to this country and to the world, and finally, being a witness to your health conditions without your press briefings to hide it makes it a fact that you are no longer in good health to lead in any capacity. My colleagues and I will be petitioning your company board at The Collective for you to step down immediately and hand over any proprietary information that you may have.”

           Two congressional members, Lorie Powers (Senator - CA) and Steven Scheuber (Governor - NY), lowered their heads to look at paperwork on their desk when Asher’s eyes met theirs.

           The walls began to cave in on Asher.  The entire proceeding was an assault, and opposing sides were never allowed to interject. He read the room and sensed the fix. There was a palpable stench of betrayal in the room, and the menacing glances being sent his way told him everything he needed to know. This was a complete takeover.

           “I declare myself an enemy of the state. I will never align myself with beliefs that threaten the extinction of humanity as we know it,” Asher defiantly replied as he fastened his oxygen mask back on his face.

           Asher struggled to stand, but Charlie reached his side and held him upright. People in attendance shouted obscenities and scoffed as the two walked out. The crowd's anger was too theatrical for their liking.

           “You are in violation of a congressional subpoena, and this committee will investigate a formal contempt referral! Come back here this second!” Wyatt Smith seethed in rage as he shouted for them to follow orders. The other committee members exchanged cruel laughs as they watched Asher leave.

           When they reached the hallway, Charlie and Asher were met with an eerie silence. No reporters. No lobbyists. No activists. The usual hallway scrum had vanished. Only a pair of guards stood outside the door, glaring at the two of them. Their entire security entourage was nowhere to be seen.

           “What does spirit tell you, Master?” Charlie asked Asher as the two walked through the hallway alone.

           Asher stopped and looked at Charlie as he said, “My Lord is here with us, right by our side.”

      In the far distance of the hall, a lone man in a military officer's uniform held his gaze on Charlie and Asher the entire way. The closer the man in uniform got, the more his face caved into an expression of animosity.

            “I’ve always wondered what the Rockies smell like during this time of the year,” the unknown military figure said as he nearly brushed up against Charlie’s shoulder in the hall.

           Asher turned back to look at the military officer, who now looked at him with a full grin. Charlie nudged Asher forward, and the two went on their way.

           Once outside, Asher and Charlie waited for their driver and his vehicle, but there were still no signs of him or any of their team. The public drop-off road was too far to walk, so Charlie scanned for nearby taxis within range of his signals. He quickly hacked into an empty one and sent it their way. He sped the vehicle up on Capital Grounds, and a security detail immediately started to follow in tow. As the taxi pulled up in front of them, Charlie opened the doors, and they hopped inside. A security detail with weapons drawn approached the car, and Charlie lowered the window to speak with them. By then, two more security vehicles blocked the car’s path ahead, and more members exited with weapons drawn.

           “I apologize, but there’s a man here who’s not in good health, and there was no way he would make it to public grounds. We’ll be on our way,” Charlie told the police officers who approached their window.

One of the police officers peeked into the vehicle and saw Asher with his oxygen tank. He quickly signaled for them to leave the premises and ordered his team to lower their weapons.

           “My apologies, Mr. Asher,” the police officer told them as Charlie raised the window. Asher calmly waved goodbye.

           The security detail vehicles moved aside. As the taxi slowly sped off, Charlie immediately accessed the car’s navigation systems, scanning for any anomalies in case he needed to take full control. He quickly routed the car toward the airport. Spotting a small camera embedded in the ceiling, Charlie hacked into its system and disabled its recording and storage functions, ensuring their conversation would not be captured or transmitted. The car was a four-seater, with two seats facing each other; Charlie sat on the opposite end from Master so they could talk face-to-face.

           “It’s here, isn’t it?” Charlie asked Asher.

           There was no reply from Asher, and he maintained his gaze outside the window. The spark within Asher had faded, and his energy was depleted as the vehicle made its way to Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport. Asher watched self-driving cars pass by and stared at the giddy passengers inside, laughing and talking.

           “When will they fight, Charlie?” Asher asked Charlie.

           “When everything they take for granted is taken from them. That’s when they’ll fight.”

           Asher watched self-driving company vehicles pass by. At a park, spectators huddled around a robot that danced for them.

           “There’s something I got to tell you, Charlie. I’m worried it might be too late-”

           “We’re going to make it back home, Master. Spirit is with us. I’ve already made the arrangements, and our flight is ready for departure as soon as we arrive.”

           On the highway, Asher vigilantly stared at the cars around them. Whenever a vehicle got close to their lane, he grew visibly nervous and tense. He saw every self-driving car lingering around them as a potential threat.

“It hurt me to see the way they treated you in there, Master,” Charlie said.

“The anger and hate. I never accepted any of their gifts. It all stayed with them. Promise me one thing, Charlie.”

“What’s that?” Charlie asked as he moved to sit beside Asher.

“Whatever happens to me. Don’t ever accept their gifts. Don’t ever let this world change who you are.”

“I’ll fight for you, for all the lessons you willingly and freely passed on to me.”

“I know you will,” Asher told Charlie as the two embraced.

           Charlie and Asher arrived at the private runway, where their Gulfstream 650 jet waited with its door open, ready for boarding. They got out of the car and walked toward the airplane.

           Asher’s phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket, and he saw the call come in from an unknown number. As much as he would normally ignore these calls, spirit told him to pick up. Charlie intercepted the audio feed and listened as Asher answered.

           Heavy, ragged breathing came through the phone, followed by a trembling voice. “Asher, they’ve come after all of us. The children—the women. They leaked the code. Don’t get on that airplane. I’ve arranged for a pilot to meet you outside the city. Get off the open network when you can. Check the encrypted relay. You must trust me. It’s begun, just like you warned us.” Gunshots crackled in the background. The call went dead.

           Three runway workers lingered in the safety envelope nearby. Charlie and Asher stared at the jet on the runway. An impatient pilot popped his head out of the jet’s door and stood on the steps, waving for them to board; the unnaturally perfect arc of his wave struck Charlie as strange.  

To be continued…

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