I sat down in front of Bender. “Good news buddy, I found the train station. Bad news, we’ve still got a lot of unknowns and risk.”
“I don’t think we have a choice. Honestly, Bob, I don't see myself staying sane if I’m stuck here forever. Even frame-jacking can only delay the inevitable. I think I’d rather go out in a dramatic chase scene, you know.”
I chuckled in response. “Okay. So I'm just going to deactivate you, grab you, and run downstairs to the train station. How's that sound.”
“What it lacks in elegance, it makes up for with wads of unearned optimism. Let's do it.”
I walked over to the matrix, put my finger to the power button, and paused.
“Bender. If this all goes to hell, I'm glad I found you.”
“Me too, buddy.”
“See you in the next life.”
I pressed the button, and Bender powered down. The latches released smoothly, and I had his matrix under my arm.
The replicant matrix wasn't a bunch of exposed circuitry, even in its first iteration back on Earth. There was a case of sorts, and even the connection bus had a flip off cover, but like a hard drive from the good old days, if you put in your backpack and smacked it on walls and dropped it on the floor, you could expect problems, so no backpack ride.
The current iteration was a cube about 8 inches on a side. Not too bulky, but pretty heavy. A Quinlan or a human would need to use both hands to carry it. Feeling a rush of unearned optimism, I shifted the cube for comfort, turned the corner and ran right into a Quinlan. Unbelievable. This twerp must've left the committee room right behind the spider that had been on surveillance. Why was he here? Maybe he'd intended to talk to Bender about something.
We stared at each other in shock for a frozen eternity. Then, just as his eyes moved toward the matrix under my arm, I punched him in the solar plexus. That is really becoming a habit, I thought to myself. The Quinlan said ‘oof’, and sank slowly to the floor trying to draw breath. Thank the universe for convergent physiology - at least he could yell out a warning.
Then from up the hall. “Matthew, you okay?”
Oh for crying out loud. I'd never get the second-
Tranq gun. I had a tranq gun! I pulled it out of the pouch on the side of my backpack, leveled it at the second Quinlan who was just coming into view, and dropped him. Then I pointed at my first victim - I hoped the close range wouldn’t create a problem - and put one into his butt. Amazingly he found just enough breath to shriek in pain, and very probably mortification.
“Matthew? Jeff? What-”
Oh great balls of fire. I was just riling them up more. Time to make tracks. Fortunately they weren't between me and the stairs, but I had to come into view to get there. As I turned the next corner and sprinted down the hall, I could hear cries of alarm behind me.
Well, Bender, you wanted a chase scene. Wish granted.
I hit the stairway door at speed and sprinted down the steps, taking them three at a time - quite a feat for a Quinlan. My pursuers wouldn't be able to match that. As I passed the second level down, I heard them come through the door above me. A quick calculation indicated I wouldn't be able to get the door closed quickly enough to throw them off, which meant it would be a straight chase to the train platform. I was faster, pound for pound, but they would be able to run on all fours, not being burdened with a replicant matrix. In retrospect, maybe the backpack idea wasn't so bad.
I hit the train floor, pushed through the stairway door, and made for platform with every burg of power I could squeeze out of the internal power systems. I calculated I'd have about 30 seconds lead time when I got there. Sure hoped the train was waiting.
There were yells behind me as my pursuers piled out of the stairwell, and a ping, tinkle as their tranquilizer flechettes skipped a few times along the floor near me. Way out of range, but I shouldn't be surprised they'd try. I hoped Bender's case was strong enough to stop one of those things, just in case it came down to a shootout. And speaking of, I had no idea how many shots I had left. You know, things never got like this when I used to write software.
I made it to the call button and jabbed it frantically, though if the design was anything like a human elevator button, this would just slow down the train's arrival, and nothing was going to convince me otherwise. The sounds of galloping Quinlans drifted down the long antiseptic corridor. My 30 seconds were almost up. I turned, drew my tranq gun, and shot the lead Quinlan just as he came into range. He went down with a yelp and skidded to a stop on his face. The others hit the brakes and backpedaled frantically. Then two of them went up on hind legs and pulled guns of their own. Just as I was steeling myself for a toe-to-toe shootout, there was a ding behind me, and the sound of a door opening. I turned and jumped through the door, looking around for a button, a control panel, anything.
A female voice said “Destination?”
Oh great. “Uh, Helep’s Ending.”
There was another ding and the door began sliding closed - just as a flechette flew in and struck me in the arm.
“Ow! Son of a bitch!”
“Is medical assistance required?”
“Now let's go, please.”
“Please have a seat.
