Chapter 22: Where are Robots Born
As Terrchel landed on the unfamiliar terrain, the jetpack's incessant beeping intensified, signaling its dwindling fuel reserves. He skillfully maneuvered the pack's thrusters to reduce his speed, landing softly on the rugged ground. The landscape stretched out before him like an alien world, totally unlike Arcadia City, with twisted rock formations and sparse, wiry vegetation.
Terrchel looked all around. In the distance, a formidable structure loomed, its high walls and razor-wire fencing glinting ominously in the fading light. Twin gates bore a red symbol that seemed familiar, but he couldn't remember from where. He knew he must still be in Arcadia, but he couldn't understand how he ended up here, in front of this strange, isolated building. The building was emblazoned with the logo "Cygnus Industries," standing sentinel, flanked by heavily armed guards. Beyond the gates, a sprawling complex hummed with activity, its buildings a labyrinthine tangle of pipes, ducts, and assembly lines. Terrchel's curiosity was awakened; what secrets lay within the heavily fortified walls of Cygnus Industries, and what was the source of the eerie, pulsating glow that seemed to emanate from the very heart of the building? He questioned in his mind, "this is definitely something that holds information to be taken back home". After calling the hideout "home," Terrchel took a moment to acknowledge what he had just said, remembering when Meriella had whispered, "We home." A small smile crossed his face at the thought of belonging somewhere she did. He shook his head to re-focus.
Determined to get closer, Terrchel, the stealth master (or so he thought), crept closer to the Cygnus Industries complex. His gaze was intensely focused on the gates, akin to a hawk observing its prey. His trusty Swatch, equipped with advanced spy-tech, was at the ready to capture some juicy intel. As he was sneaking around, super focused, he totally missed the big, pointy rock sticking out of the ground. His foot totally felt it, and with some wild arm waving, Terrchel ended up face-planting into a bush nearby.
There were members of the Arcadian Patrol (their uniforms read "AP" in bold, futuristic letters) standing on guard, scattered around the perimeter. Terrchel caught them off guard by the sudden rustling in the bushes. One of them, a towering figure in full cybergear, complete with glowing blue optics and enough firepower to take down a small army, took a step forward and growled, "Who's there?". The AP pressed a button on his headgear and called for the patrol robots to come scout the area, stating he couldn't leave his post and there seemed to be an interference.
Terrchel, still dazed from his rock-induced tumble, poked his head out of the bush, but the guard didn't notice him because his green hair camouflaged him perfectly into the bush. As the guard stepped back into formation, disregarding the rustling and commanding the patrol robots to fall back because it was a false alarm, two robots (their uniforms read "APR" in bold, futuristic letters), appeared behind him already. One robot lowered the AP's hand whilst the other scanned the area and walked right over to Terrchel, plucking him out of the bush. The APR had Terrchel hovering in the air with leaves stuck in his hair, and he muttered, "Uh, just... uh... a... a...Fly?". The AP raised an eyebrow at the display before him, his expression a perfect blend of skepticism and amusement. "A fly... with a swatch?". Terrchel's eyes widened, and he frantically tried to hide the swatch which was still recording, but it was too late.
Terrchel, still hovering in the air, took his hand and knocked on the Arcadian Patrol Robot, which made a clank sound. "Well, you know, look at these inventions. Anything is possible these days," he smiled, but the APR released its grip, causing Terrchel to land hard with a thud on the ground, letting out a dry cough from the impact and dust that flared up upon his landing on his chest. The AP had a sly grin spread across his face. "Well, well, well. What do we have here? A spy, perhaps?" He tapped on Terrchel's swatch and ordered the robots to deal with him. They grabbed him and cuffed him with electrical cuffs that zapped his wrist when he struggled against it and immediately injected him through his wrist vein with a sedative that knocked him out. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was his swatch being removed, and everything went blur.
The APR carried unconscious Terrchel slumped over its shoulder inside the building. It was a factory where mass production AI robots were being produced for the Echo initiative. The sleek Artificial Intelligence Robots were being created with the usage of the Echo Artificial Intelligence App sign-up profiles. A range of features and options users selected to customize their AI relationship on the App were being used. There was a variety of AI personalities, each with its own unique traits and characteristics based on signed-up Arcadians' preferences. The APR carried him to a laboratory room and tied him down to a bench, locking him in the room and proceeding with their daily duties. Meanwhile, The AP entered the headquarters and handed Terrchel's swatch to their head operating manager, Ezriel, who reports directly to President Lawrence.
Meanwhile back at the hideout
Commander Leghorn and General Leghorn were on a holographic call.
"Commander, you have arrived late once more. Please provide an explanation," General Leghorn stated, her voice stern.
"I had planned to remain behind to bid farewell to Terrchel before my return, but there seems to be an issue, General," Leghorn replied, his concern palpable.
"You seem to be worried; did you lose sight of the vessel?" she questioned, a hint of curiosity in her tone.
"He is not merely a vessel! Terrchel is my friend, and he consistently keeps his promises. He is always punctual, yet it is well past sundown, and he has not returned to the hideout!" Leghorn exclaimed, a rare display of passion in his voice.
"It has been years since I have seen you so passionate and protective; I prefer this version of you, Commander," General Leghorn remarked, a slight softening in her holographic image.
Leghorn was taken aback for a moment and felt his face warm up. "W-well, i-in that case, please give me time to track Terrchel down. I'll come home to The Light Realm thereafter," he stammered slightly.
"I'll track him for you right now. You know our resources are faster," General Leghorn offered. General Leghorn quickly utilized the Celestial energy engine to locate Terrchel's lifeforce, resulting in a hologram displaying his heartbeat. "He's alive. I'm sending you the coordinates now. This seems dangerous, that's the location we received major use of the orb energy radiating from. It's actually on the list of places I intended to visit this week," she stated, her concern evident.
"Coordinates received. Thank you, Lucille. I really appreciate this," Leghorn said, using her first name, a sign of unusual familiarity.
"First name basis, you're welcome. Signing off, good luck," General Leghorn replied, and her hologram flickered off.
"Bye, General! Talk soon," Leghorn murmured, almost to himself. He turned off his swatch and braced himself for the journey ahead, knowing that it was a rescue mission based on the location.
Leghorn burst into Emerson's room, his urgency palpable as he shook his friend awake. Emerson's messy hair stood on end, and his voice was a grouchy growl as he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Seriously, Leghorn, WHAT!?" he demanded, his tone a perfect blend of annoyance and irritation.
Leghorn's expression was grim, his eyes burning with concern. "It's Terrchel, he missed training, remember? I got intel he's in danger, and we have to go get him". Emerson's response was a dismissive wave of his hand, his voice dripping with skepticism. "Terrchel can handle himself. I'm sure he'll be back soon". With a languid stretch, Emerson closed his eyes, rolled over, and snuggled back into his pillow, intent on catching a few more winks.
But Leghorn was relentless, his determination fueled by a growing sense of unease. "Em, look at this symbol I found on Arcadia Space for this building he's in," he urged, holding up his Swatch like a digital talisman. The screen glowed with an image of the building, its coordinates and online information scrolling beneath it like a digital ticker tape. "Doesn't this look familiar?" Leghorn's eyes locked onto Emerson's, his gaze burning with an unspoken question. And then, like a key turning in a lock, Emerson's eyes widened as recognition dawned. The symbol on the building was one he knew all too well, a haunting echo of the Visual Oracle Map that had been their sole mission to understand and intercept.