Juke kept rewinding the footage. Her eyes stung from lack of sleep. No matter how many times she watched the robot fall apart, it still made zero sense.
She peered behind her at the vat that contained the robot's slime and the open tray where all of its metallic components were spread out. Stem Tower's one-and-only science prodigy had cross-referenced the samples; the robot was certainly using Stem Slime goo as a body. However, she still couldn't figure out how the actual technological components inside worked. The idea of taking a hammer and brute forcing the insides had come to her several times, but she fears damaging the possibly irreplaceable technology inside.
Breaking something and being forced to order the part from off-worlders would be quite a lot of trouble. Even half a decade after Operation CHAINEDSLIME, Juke knew that Blema still wouldn't be willing to extend the budget.
She let out a small squeak as she stretched in her beaten up chair. Her body was tired, but her mind was still running and racing. It had been a long time since she had this much fun.
Standing up, she crossed the cluttered labrotory and inspected what she suspected to be the robot's core; it was the titanium ball that was positioned in the beast's head. Rolling the perfect sphere around in her metal hand, she stared blankly down at it. Her nerveless fingers ran over the logo imprinted on the underside. It didn't take long to figure out who it belonged to and what its original function was, but it was ultimately a dead end.
She didn't want to go barking at an off-world technology enterprise for their pricey trade secrets. Ever since she was a young girl, it was simply in Juke's blood to reverse engineer in such situations as this, not grovel at a stranger's feet for perfectly accessible knowledge. Juke was not interested in acquiring mounds of either social or monetary debt.
Juke's desk on the other side of the room emitted a high-pitched beeping from one of its dozen droors. Having several radios to communicate with her contacts, Juke had that specific signal etched in her brain from many sleepless nights.
"Finally."
With rushed steps, she flung open the third drawer on the right, shuffled some papers out of the way, and grabbed the vibrating radio.
News. Good news. Please.
Juke held the radio up to her mouth.
"Organia," Juke spoke sternly, "report."
Somewhere in the dark alleys of Stem City's southwest streets, a woman clad in steel armor watched the empty midnight streets with hollow eyes. After making sure nobody was around to overhear their conversation, the woman held the adjacant walkie-talkie up to her masked mouth. "Been asking around. Got some leads that might interest you."
Juke's eyes darted around to the several cameras in the lab. She didn't want the frequently nosey Blema to overhear this conversation. "One moment," the scientist whispered as she hastily made her way over to the balcony door.
The city's neon skyline greeted her, and the sound of the rainstorm surrounded her. Taking extra care to not slip off, Juke leaned on the balcony's railing as she stared at the portion of the southwest city she could see from Stem Tower.
Her hair and jacket were getting soaked, but her sleep deprived mind couldn't care less. It was tunnel visioned.
"I'm here; continue."
"Well," Organia exhaled, "the guy who owned the warehouse went by Whisk. Some off-worlder who won it by gambling. He also owned the yellow Stem Slime whose remains you found on site."
Juke mentally sorted through all the details, a corkboard of completely reasonable explanations already forming in her mind. "Anything else?"
"Whisk bought the yellow slime off some sketchy ram, likely a noble, for cheap about a week or so ago."
"Where's Whisk now?"
Organia sighed. "That's the problem. When that thing attacked, it burst through the sewer. It was armed with explosive devices and took to scorching the place before escaping. Whisk was one of thirty-four that died from said explosives."
"Hmmmm... do you think it came in with fiery weapons to perhaps erase some kind of evidence?" Juke theorized out loud. The loss of life did sour her mood; potential information on the robot's origin was lost.
"I can't say for sure," Organia responded.
Juke's robotic hand tapped against the railing. Her mind buzzed as neurons fired off and connected everything together. According to Fencien's report, the robot had destroyed its apparent ally once it cornered her and waited patiently for the Lawmen to pick it up... It put up a fight against the Lawmen, yes, but the numbers quickly overwhelmed it.
Was it perhaps seeking a challenge and being too arrogant?
...No, no, robots can't feel such things.
They can emulate emotions, yes, but a robot would have to desire glory to seek out a challenge all on its own. The logo on its head suggested it was made by TECHBOROS, an off-worlder company known for primarily cybernetics and factory machines. According to their off-world informational database, they produced no models that had intelligence beyond what the Lawmen possessed.
That's to say, an AI with no emotions, no subjective concepts such as honor or glory, and no reason to purposely put oneself in harm's way.
That theory was crossed off. Juke exhaled.
"Is everything okay?" Organia asked.
"Yes, I'm merely trying to wrap my head around this whole thing."
Juke paused. TECHBOROS.
"Organia, you worked for TECHBOROS in the past, correct?"
"That's correct."
"Well, I'm sure you'll find this interesting, but this robot's core seems to be branded underneath them. Any idea if it's one of their models?"
Organia put her hand on her waist. She wanted to go back home and sleep.
"That robot is nothing like I've ever seen before; the majority of robots in the outer galaxy use nanomachines."
"Hmmm..." Juke furrowed her brow.
"Though, if I remember correctly, TECHBOROS did attempt to dip into the field of galactic robotics a century or so ago. The competition ran them out of the field fairly quickly." Organia explained. Her voice was deep and monotone, practically vibrating the radio from its natural bass.
Juke let out an excited laugh under her breath. Bingo. "Could you perhaps elaborate?"
"Well, when they recalled their failed attempts to melt them down for scrap metal, the shutdown commands completely ceased communication with the TECHBOROS headquarters. Because of a production defect, some of the robots never powered themselves down. Some of my coworkers were tasked with hunting them down, but those sorts of missions were usually too low-risk and insignificant for me to be assigned them."
A wave of relief washed over Juke. Well, there it was. Organia had the answers all along. "That must be it, then. An old droid. Now, the only thing left is to dissect its innerworkings. Thank you, Organia."
"Next week, I want new armor batteries," Organia growled. "You forgot them last week."
"Yes, yes, I'll get them; just come in at noon tomorrow." Before Organia could start to go down the list of things that Juke owed her, the scientist shut off the radio. She'll deal with that obligation when she manages to find some downtime. Probably.
The sound of rain became muffled again as Juke welcomed herself back into her lab. Locking the door and hiding Organia's radio again, the scientist sought to get back to work.
Likely TECHBOROS' work, as expected. Not only a recalled, but a malfunctioning obtuse droid, on the other hand, meant that the technology inside could still be anything. At the very least, nanomachines were ruled out. Staring into the vat of Stem Slime goop that the droid had been using, a thought came to Juke.
Having studied the wild slimes for years in search of a way to fulfill her dream of a perfect new world, Juke learned a whole list of fun facts about them. One of those very facts was that Stem Slime's goo conducted electricity extremely well. If one was dedicated and desperate enough, such as the mind of an abandoned machine, they could create an entire wiring system out of it...
Stepping back over to the tray, Juke wanted to take another good shot at the core orb that had been in the monster's head. If there were any small outlets that could receive any sort of electrical current...
She froze.
It was gone.
Juke's eyes stared in shock and horror at where the metal orb was. Her eyes started to frantically dart around the table, trying to find the unique symbol amongst the metal parts spread out. She held her breath as she started to flip all of them over.
This couldn't be happening.
Her exhausted mind had to be playing tricks on her. It had to be. It had to be!
Juke tripped over loose wires as she sprinted over to her desk, where Organia's radio was stashed. She searched all over it, throwing papers to the ground haphazardly.
Where did it go?
Her heart pounded as anxiety wrangled her tired psyche.
If her developing theory had any ounce of truth to it, then the machine shouldn't work without the ability to conduct electricity. Of course, she didn't know if she was right or wrong in the first place, and she hadn't even cracked it open to see how it worked. Perhaps it had reserve power or had its own propulsion system? She really should have broken it open the moment it was brought in, but she despised the feeling of breaking technology she couldn't replicate easily, and-
The world around Juke stopped.
Her manic stream of consciousness was put on a violent hold as the steel orb, no larger than a tennis ball, scuttled across the floor underneath her desk. Over the sound of the blaring air conditioning and the dozens of computer fans, she didn't hear it at all, but now she could hear it like it was scraping the insides of her mind.
Four tiny little legs produced tiny clicking noises as the droid's brain scurried around.
A chill traveled up Juke's spine as she watched as it, her jaw agape, crawled underneath the STEMNET server rack she had been isolating for testing.
There was a pest loose in her lab. There hadn't been something like this since she had lived in Gillsway, with those ugly red insects creating a hive in her father's garage.
She hated pests.
The ram dashed to quickly get down on her hands and knees. Her robotic hand's sharpened fingers produced a shrill noise as they extended outward. She had to catch this thing. Juke's red goggles shot out spotlights that covered the underside of the shelf.
It was gone.
Juke pelted out several profanities underneath her breath as she pulled herself back up. She scanned around the room: a sea of various different inventions from research's past, piles upon piles of scribbled notes that weren't there when she first moved in, an old desk belonging to Bally Backster, vats of Stem Slime goop used in her testing, her massive computer.
She saw the technological pest perched on top of her computer tower across the room. It surprised her; it was fast. A thin wire coiled out of its bottom and plugged into a STEMNET port on top. Her stomach dropped.
"STOP!" She shrieked. Her feet kicked her up and off the ground, her heavy combat boots clanging against the steel floor of the lab as she charged forward.
However, she hadn't slept in a day and a half. Her body's control of itself was loose and unstable.
Juke stumbled and tripped over a large power cable. A loud thud echoed around the densely packed science lab. She belted out another profanity as a stinging sensation passed through her chest. She hoped she didn't just bruise something; this would not be the time.
Pulling herself upwards yet again, Juke's eyes fell onto the loose core of the mysterious robot again. Its cross shaped pupil stared into Juke's goggles. It did not blink; it did not laugh. It was silently mocking her failure.
It had the audacity to mock her? It was the one who had the audacity to wear the skin of those disgusting slimes. Merely thinking about them set Juke's heart on fire. She ground together her sharp teeth as she jolted forward.
The robot's wire unlatched from the port as Juke closed in on it, but it was far too late. The distance between them had been cut short, and with a single, swift, and definitive movement, the red and blue painted metal claw of Juke slammed down around the machine. It let out sparks as her iron grasp relentlessly crushed it; its legs tried to poke and prod at her lack of flesh.
There was no success.
"Sneaky bastard," she whispered as her grip only tightened around its shell. "You're a clever bit of technology, aren't you?"
Juke laughed maniacally under her breath. The control over this thing made her feel amazing.
She squeezed it tighter. The machines thrashing legs went limp as more sparks flew out. She didn't care about damaging its components anymore. It had disobeyed her, and for that, there was a price to pay.
"You blew your one chance, scrapheap. I'm going to reverse engineer every single little mechanism inside of you, and when I can manage to construct exact replicas of you, I'll make sure they'll hate you for not deactivating yourself earlier."
Juke's hand clenched. Her clutch crushed it completely.
The brain's remains fell onto her messy desk.
It was lifeless.
To Juke, such machines were always lifeless, but now this one no longer mimics them. It no longer sought to be anything more than a machine—a mere tool for superior organic species.
Without warning, Juke's large tri-monitor display came to life. The bright light stung her exhausted eyes.
Her heart skipped a beat, and her jaw was left slightly agape. She didn't do that, did she? Her mouse was nowhere near her hand, and her keyboard wasn't even plugged in.
Coming down from her high of exerting power over the assembled circuit boards and metal, the hairs on the back of her neck started to stand up.
What had that thing done to her machine?
Her mind shifted from a place of triumphant pride to sheer fear. That computer had access to almost everything in Stem Tower. The STEMNET, the Lawmen networks, The Complex's records...
A command prompt appeared on her largest screen. The small arrow at the top of the window blinks several times.
Text began appearing.
"HELLO, MOTHER. DID YOU MISS ME? I MISSED YOU."
She didn't know what to do. Her arms and legs shook. Her breath became shallow. The layer of security and safety she had in her own lab was stripped away in an instant.
Juke knew exactly who it was.
She abandoned it.
She abandoned it because she was too much of a coward to kill it.