The Formosa
The autotram pulls into an elevated metro stop beside a large building. Kanzu, Brazin, and other hominoid refugees exit from their car. Kanzu looks up at the large digital sign flashing:
FORMOSA STATION
Though modern by current standards, the former commercial building has expanded into an enormous mixed-use structure filled with hominoid refugees and building personnel.
“Formosa Station,” the metro PA system repeats. “Please refer to your wristlets for guidance.”
Kanzu and Brazin check their wristlet displays and follow its prompts toward the building. Brazin turns to Kanzu.
“So many of us in one place,” he says.
“Too many.”
Brazin deeply inhales as they enter the main lobby.
“My mouth waters,” Brazin says as he tries to keep pace.
“I’m sure they supply sponges here.”
“That doesn’t sound appealing.”
“Perhaps they’re an acquired taste.”
They wait in a security line similar to a twenty-first-century aeroport. A giant lobby hologram of a short hominoid wearing a Freeland uniform appears.
“Welcome to the Formosa. I am Wilton, your resident guide,” the lobby hologram greets while pointing toward a retail plaza. “For supplies and consumption, Archaic Plaza should satisfy all your desires. We found it more efficient to appropriate elements of Terran cultures to ease your transition.”
They pass through the checkpoint with ease. Security drones then scan their wristlets. Brazin points to a small burger and coffee joint with a cartoonish ‘M’ logo, once popular among the island’s former natives.
“We must go there,” Brazin exclaims.
He heads toward the restaurant while Kanzu follows her wristlet prompt to the lift. Brazin makes it a few feet from the restaurant when his wristlet sends an irritating electrical current throughout his body. Other hungry refugees deviating from their wristlets endure a similar experience.
The lobby hologram turns toward the guilty parties and chastises them, “Please do not deviate.”
Brazin and the other hungry refugees reluctantly comply. A huffing Brazin catches up to Kanzu as she enters one of the building lifts. He squeezes inside, pressing up against her as the lift doors shut. Brazin smiles upon making eye contact with a pokerfaced Kanzu. Blushing, she glances away.
Moments later, the lift doors open. Kanzu and Brazin exit with five other hominoids as the same hologram from the ground floor appears.
“Female wing to your right,” the hologram says, pointing. “Male left.”
The two male hominoids approach the wing door to the left. They wave their wristlets in front of the door scanner to enter and continue to their rooms. The three female hominoids go to the right wing doors and do the same. Brazin and Kanzu turn to each other.
“Fortunate meeting you, Kanzu.”
“Grats for the help, Brazin.”
“Do you think we will meet again?”
“If your fortune continues.”
She smiles and walks over to the female wing door. She waves her wristlet over the scanner, opening the door.
Brazin smiles and replies, “In the-”
The female wing door shuts.
Brazin walks over to the male wing door, waves his wristlet over the scanner, and enters the male wing.
Kanzu passes the various rooms occupied by hominoid refugees, ignoring some of their greetings. She arrives at her destination and waves her wristlet across her room scanner, opening the door. Kanzu enters to find Raym, the bronze hominoid from her registration class, sitting on one of two beds in a studio that also includes a kitchenette with a sink, a small private restroom with a shower, and a south-facing window with a view of the metropolis skyline. One of the walls also has a large display screen.
“Do we know each other?” Raym asks.
Kanzu quickly snaps out of her trance and replies, “Apologies?”
“Your scent is…familiar.”
“Oh, we shared the same registration class. They call me Kanzu.”
Kanzu nods.
“You arrived with a mate?” Raym asks.
“Actually, he’s not really my mate.”
“Ah,” Raym responds with a nod. “Well, they call me Raym.”
Kanzu drops her bag on the open bed. The wall display activates, and the lobby hologram’s face appears on it.
“Kanzu. Raym. Good to see you getting along.”
“Why wouldn’t we?” Raym asks.
“You’d be surprised,” the lobby hologram says. “Anywho, your social accounts are now active and your schedules uploaded.”
“When can we eat?” Raym asks.
“Soon. Your wristlet will notify you and provide a list of participating establishments.”
“Do you deliver?” Kanzu asks.
“Apologies, but we do not provide room service,” the lobby hologram responds. “Orientation commences tomorrow oh-nine hundred. In the meantime, I suggest you get to know your new neighbors. And if you require immediate assistance, simply press the emergency app on your wristlets. Toodle-loo.”
The lobby hologram vanishes, and the display screen deactivates.
“Too-doo-what?” Kanzu asks.
“Probably another stupid archaic saying,” Raym answers.
“You mean Terran?”
“I mean what I say, Kanzu.”
“Fair enough, Raym. How did you get here?”
Raym walks over to the lone window and stares out at the skyline.
“Three revs ago, our master expired. It was a long time before anyone came for him. But it was also a memorable one. My mate and I were truly free. A few cycles ago, other masters came. They removed our master’s corpse and tended to us for a while. The next thing I know, I’m being pulled from a lifebox on Freeland. You?”
Kanzu sits on her bed.
“My brother and I were abandoned as well,” she says. “I awakened as he was placed in a lifebox. There was nothing I could do.”
“They put something in the food that suppresses our will to fight.”
“He’s out there, to the north. I made a promise to find him.”
“I long for my mate as well.”
“Perhaps we can help each other, Raym.”
Raym turns to Kanzu and sighs.
“Perhaps.”
Joo
Evading a series of laser rounds, a grizzled, scar-faced Genji speeds through the forest on a hoverbike. He turns off-road and weaves through trees to shake the armored jeep and two modified hoverbikes in hot pursuit. The armored jeep’s passenger locks onto Genji and fires a projectile. However, Genji launches countermeasures that intercept the projectile moments before impact.
“Countermeasures depleted,” Genji’s hoverbike warns.
“Anymore more good news?” Genji quips.
“Fuel cells low.”
“Thanks.”
Genji’s hoverbike drops a mine. As the armored jeep clears the smoke, it detects the bouncing mine and warns its occupants. The driver swerves, but the mine still goes off. The armored jeep speeds into a large tree and explodes, launching it into the air while the two enemy hoverbikes continue their pursuit.
Genji rides behind two fallen trees and turns to face his attackers. He flips through his arsenal of weaponry.
“Cannon depleted. Grenade launcher depleted. Laser rounds, two.”
“Of course,” Genji sarcastically replies.
Genji aims and fires the last two laser rounds. The two enemy bikers, one Terran and the other a hybreed, take evasive action and idle beside each other behind a large tree. They don tattoos on the opposite side of their neck from their implants.
“He’s jamming us,” the Terran biker says. “Maybe we should get-”
“We’re not going anywhere,” the hybreed replies. “And neither is he.”
The hybreed takes off while his partner provides cover fire. Once the hybreed flanks Genji, he takes cover and fires. The enemy bikers successfully pin Genji down.
Genji opens a small compartment on his hoverbike and retrieves parts to assemble a laser rifle. Pinned down, he quickly assembles the weapon, retrieves the four lasermags, and inserts one into it. He returns fire.
“We just want the bike,” the hybreed biker shouts.
“Sorry,” Genji replies. “Your credit’s no good here.”
Genji takes cover and reloads as laser bullets pummel the dead logs and ricochet off the hoverbike.
“What about your life?” the Terran biker yells back.
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Genji pops up and fires back.
“Can I think about it?” he asks.
“Sure,” the hybreed biker responds. “Offer’s good while supplies last!”
The hybreed biker activates a grenade and rises. Just as he prepares to throw it, a laser bullet rips through his throwing hand. His severed appendage falls to the ground beside him. Pinkish blood trickles from his cauterized limb as the grenade explodes, disintegrating him.
“Pee-toh!” the Terran biker calls out.
“What do you say we split the scraps and call it a day?” Genji proposes.
“I appreciate the gesture,” the Terran biker fumes. “But I must respectfully decline.”
Genji depletes his last lasermag. He pulls out a long knife and pops his head above the dead log to see the Terran biker grabbing his dead buddy’s weapon. Genji takes cover again.
“It’s getting dark,” he says. “And those Xenos love to hunt in the dark.”
The Terran biker slowly advances toward Genji. He strategically fires to keep Genji pinned. Still hunkered down, Genji holds his knife by the blade. He hears the approaching Terran biker and takes a few quick breaths, rises, and throws his knife. His eyes widen as Shinzo, holding the knife mid-throw near his metallic face, stands over the dead Terran biker.
“Not bad,” Shinzo quips.
“Told you I had it under control,” Genji growls as he dusts himself off.
Genji walks over to Shinzo, who hands him back his knife.
“You’re welcome,” Shinzo replies.
“Let’s get this over with,” Genji says.
Genji pats down the dead Terran biker. Shinzo disassembles Genji’s laser rifle, packs it back into the hoverbike, and carries the hoverbike over to Genji.
“Thanks to you, the jeep’s unsalvageable,” Shinzo says.
“Better it than me,” Genji replies.
“Debatable.”
Shinzo places the hoverbike next to Genji, who hops on it and rides toward the dead hybreed biker. Shinzo sprints behind him.
“Time?” Genji asks.
“Approximately eleven minutes and counting,” Shinzo answers via comchat.
Genji pats down the dead hybreed biker while Shinzo quickly collects the two enemy hoverbikes.
“We’ve got eight,” Genji says.
They spend the next eight minutes scrounging for enemy weapons and ammo. Genji breaks down the enemy hoverbikes into sections. Shinzo loads everything into a modified Japanese military vehicle with the word ‘JU’ laser painted on its sides. Shinzo looks up and around.
“Three minutes,” he warns Genji via comchat.
The mechanoid retrieves an assortment of weapons and strategically lays them out around them in preparation for the approaching enemy reinforcements. Shinzo quickly checks his electrokatana before placing it back in his rear holster.
Breathing heavily, an exhausted Genji leans against a tree and huffs, “Yeah, hit me up at the-”
“Two minutes.”
“…warning,” Genji exhales.
Shinzo continues setting up and says, “The things I do for friendship.”
The mechanoid zooms in on the approaching caravan and locks in on an armored jeep driver. He fires and hits the vehicle’s laser windshield, prompting the caravan to fan out and return fire. The mechanoid then fires on the strategically-placed grenades that explode around the enemy. However, the detonations account for only one casualty. Shinzo fires repeatedly and hits his marks. However, the new arrivals come with laser-resistant clothing and headgear.
“Maybe this wasn’t the best idea,” Genji laments.
“Mind over matter,” Shinzo responds.
“Says the guy with no lungs and metal skin.”
Genji looks up and around. He then turns to Shinzo.
“Watch your six,” Shinzo says as he sprints away.
“Says the guy with built-in radar!” Genji yells.
He turns toward low-pitch roars in the distance and takes aim in its direction. The roars grow louder as four more enemy hoverbikes, and a hovertruck appear. Shinzo tags one of the enemy bikers in the head.
The enemy splits up as Genji fires and barely misses his target. The hovertruck targets Shinzo and fires a barrage of laser bullets. However, Shinzo’s lightning reflexes result in minimal damage. The mechanoid then takes another shot. He hits his target’s hoverbike, launching the helpless biker into a thick tree before passing out. Shinzo sprints toward the fallen biker, pulls out his electrokat, and finishes the job. Blood quickly evaporates from the mechanoid’s blade as the hovertruck stops fifty yards away.
“Don’t let up!” Shinzo barks.
“Easy…for…you to say,” Genji huffs between breaths.
The remaining enemy hoverbikes take positions behind the hovertruck as it charges straight for Shinzo.
Staring them down, Shinzo says, “Let’s dance.”
The hovertruck barrels ahead when it suddenly levitates. One of the bikers slams into the rising hovertruck and falls to the ground. The other bikers swerve and crash. The bikers look up as the hovertruck rises. The hovertruck driver opens his door and leaps out, only to freeze in midair.
“Xeno!” the hovertruck driver screams as he’s crushed.
The biker that hit the hovertruck stands and looks up as a giant Lorian poacher uncloaks in all its mechsuit glory.
“Let’s get the fu-” the wounded biker shouts as a laser round hits his leg.
He falls back on the ground, screaming. The others reclaim their fallen hoverbikes and speed off.
“Don’t leave me!” the wounded biker cries.
Holding the hovertank with two grapplers, the Lorian poacher opens its helmet and eats the dead hovertruck driver. It closes its helmet as the hovertruck’s defense system unleashes every weapon in its arsenal. Briefly stunned, the Lorian poacher rips the hovertank in two.
Genji takes advantage of the distracted giant and sprints to the confiscated Japanese military vehicle labeled “JU” on its sides and drives off.
The giant alien’s oculars target the screaming men inside each half of the hovertruck. The men fire their weapons at the Lorian poacher. However, the laser bullets bounce off its mechsuit. The Lorian poacher sends an electric charge from its mechsuit to both halves of the hovertruck, which knocks out everyone inside.
Genji speeds through the woods with an eye on the monster far in his rearview display. A sprinting Shinzo appears in the rearview display as he jumps onto the vehicle’s rear.
“Glad you could make it,” Genji jokes to Shinzo over his comchat.
“Says the guy sitting on three thousand horsepower!” Shinzo replies via comchat.
Genji laughs.
Shelf Life
A sumo match plays on a muted overhead LED display inside their favorite neighborhood sushi bar. Having cleaned their small plates, recent Kochi University of Technology graduates Genji Zineda and Shinzo Tadeshi enjoy beer and sake while sitting at the counter.
“So, when’s the wedding?” Shinzo Tedeshi jokes.
“If you’re hoping for a future in comedy…,” young Genji retorts. “Don’t.”
“If you think she’s gonna wait forever, don’t.”
The muted display shows a quick shot of a JAXA scientist speaking in front of the Japanese Cabinet.
“How’s the old man holding up?” young Genji inquires.
“Well, he lost both his tenure for a position he no longer loved and his membership to a club he no longer supported.”
“Just like you said.”
Young Genji pours the remaining sake for them.
“At least he saved enough before they cut funding,” Shinzo Tedeshi says.
“If only he had more time to finish his masterpiece.”
“Who says he didn’t?”
Genji’s eyes widen. He turns to Shinzo Tadeshi.
“Don’t mess with me, Shin.”
“This time, I’m serious.”
“He fixed it?”
“It went online last night.”
Genji smiles.
“The Mad Scientist strikes again,” he says. “Congrats.”
“I played a very small part.”
“Think he’ll still sell it to JAXA?”
“After the way they treated him?”
“What’ll he call it?”
“Not Genji.”
They laugh, touch shot cups, then drink. Young Genji looks up as the muted overhead display switches to a report on mysterious objects, thousands of light years away, heading toward the solar system before vanishing. The patrons chant for the sumo tournament. A server complies and switches the channel to another satellite feed of the competition.
Shinzo Tedeshi slides their tab over to young Genji, who grabs it and stands. Young Genji wires credits to the sushi bar’s account which confirms payment of the bill. Shinzo Tedeshi stands, and the two men hug.
“Those things up there…” young Genji whispers into his ear. “You believe the old man?”
“We both know my father’s crazy,” Shinzo Tedeshi whispers back. “But he’s not stupid. Keep those coordinates close, yeah?”
Genji nods when cheers turn their attention back to the sumo tournament on the muted overhead display.
Back against the charging frame, a fully-charged Shinzo reactivates. The mechanoid steps forward and turns to see Genji staring at the computer monitors while sitting on the recliner.
“Bonzai again?” Shinzo inquires with a dash of exasperation.
“What can I say?” a smiling Genji replies. “I think I’m in love.”
Shinzo approaches, passing the 3-D printers humming away while constructing more weapons.
Genji watches a blood sport known as ‘The Outlet’ on the right monitor when something on the left one catches his attention. He points at the left monitor as Shinzo walks over to him.
The monitor displays a satellite image of North America. The former U.S. state of Montana, along with the former nation’s capital, have been replaced by large craters. Three enormous Lorian cities known as the Trifect cover a majority of America’s heartland. Four smaller Lorian cities cover Canada, with another six in Latin America.
“Poor bastards,” Genji says.
“Aren’t we all?” Shinzo replies.
“Says the guy with no lifespan.”
“Approximately one hundred sixty-seven years, four months, two days, twenty-three hours, seven minutes, thirty-five seconds.”
“What do you think about this lost and found gig Ren set up?”
Genji pauses and stares at Shinzo.
“I think it’ll help us keep the lights on.”
“I can’t believe we’re reduced to working for strays.”
“A Freelander.”
“Excuse me?”
“A very well connected. Ren says he’s also known for paying on time-”
“You had me at Freelander. He didn’t mention our client was a Freelander.”
“Surprise!”
“I hate surprises. Except for ones with long-term potential.”
Genji switches the satellite feed to a rendering of the Lorian’s industrial complex where he and his family were held captive.
“You should recharge,” Shinzo says.
Yawning, Genji nods, stretches, and stands.
“Yeah…” he replies. “I envy that fact you don’t feel tired. Or pain.”
Genji taps Shinzo and walks down the hall. He enters his room and shuts the door. Shinzo looks above the monitors to a framed photo on the wall featuring the old-timer proudly standing beside a twentysomething Shinzo Tedeshi in his graduation suit. The smiling young man holds up his diploma with pride. Two small urns rest on a shelf just below the framed photo. One displays a digital image of the old-timer. The other, a digital image of Shinzo Tadeshi.
The mechanoid sticks his left index finger into a small port on the hard drive and flips through hundreds of stored satellite images on one of the monitors with lightning speed. The mechanoid stops on a satellite image of the European and African continents.
Frighteningly, the top left corner of the image shows massive craters dotting across Europe. Most of the UK appears to have been wiped from existence. Moreover, massive cities and industrial structures blanket Africa and the Middle East. Despite the bleak images, Shinzo notices a handful of human population centers along the coastal areas. For now, at least.
The mechanoid retrieves another file and plays it on another monitor. A younger version of the old-timer appears on the screen with his identity and a timestamp of the recording:
18.08.2119 F. TEDESHI
“Citizens of Earth, my name is Dr. Finiru Tedeshi. I served as a tenured professor at the Kochi University of Technology and as a computer sciences engineer with the JAXA Space Program. I spent most of my life trying to convince people that we are not alone. But what I didn’t know until now was that we were never alone. By now, it’s apparent to most of you that those with the knowledge, power, and means to warn us have instead sold us all out. Those of us who tried to spread this truth were either discredited, silenced, or both. And now, a new world order approaches. And with it, a reckoning. Our false prophets would have us submit. To those who resist, I hope this transmission will aid in our collective struggles to come. You are not alone. Humanity is counting on us.”
Air sirens blare in the background as Shinzo Tedeshi places a hand on the old-timer’s shoulder.
“O-ton,” Shinzo Tedeshi whispers.
The video freezes. Shinzo stares at his human counterpart, then zooms in on another robot sitting offline behind father and son. Shinzo studies the older model in the background.
“No pain,” the mechanoid murmurs. “No gain.”
Basic Training
The bright skyline of Freeland’s capital city shines beyond the mountains. However, desperate screams shatter the serene visuals. The Freeland Corps stands ready while hundreds of Terrans shout from the opposite side of a laser fence, confining them along the mountain’s edge. Among the armed hominoid corpsmen outside the fence, Kanzu and Raym scan the perimeter for potential breaches.
Out of sight, a group of Terrans hack at the laser fencing with whatever they can find, to no avail.
“E-qual rights!” an angry Terran barks. “Fuck the strays!”
“We leave one cage,” Kanzu says. “To run another.”
“Which side do you prefer?” Raym asks.
“Need more space!” a female Terran screams. “Need more space!”
Raym approaches the woman. Wearing soft, metallic gauntlets that fit and feel like winter gloves, only far more lethal, she pulls out her sidearm and aims.
“Raym!” Kanzu shouts with one hand extended toward Raym.
Raym fires at the female Terran, who falls to the ground.
“Terran meatsack,” Raym snaps.
A few yards away, three Terrans use a re-purposed tool to successfully create a portal through a section of laser fencing, turning the horizontal light beams from red to green.
“Breach!” a Freeland officer screams.
Freeland Corpsmen fire indiscriminately as a wave of Terrans pass through the green lasers toward them. The opposing forces engage in hand-to-hand combat. Both Kanzu and Raym fend off their attackers. Kanzu relies more on her speed and agility to dispatch her attackers, while Raym utilizes brute force to dispatch hers.
“Perhaps we should request a tougher setting,” Raym says.
“You speak too soon,” Kanzu responds while pointing at another wave of disgruntled Terrans heading for them.
“Regroup!” a Freeland Corps officer commands.
Kanzu falls back with the other corpsmen. However, she turns to see Raym standing her ground.
“Fall back, Raym!”
Raym takes out a few more Terrans when she finally notices a new wave pouring through the gate, overwhelming her. Kanzu turns and runs back for Raym, pummeling Terrans in her way. Kanzu and Raym fight their way toward each other and stand back-to-back as they’re surrounded.
“I shoulda left you,” Kanzu says.
“I woulda left you,” Raym counters.
They turn to see their own laser cannons pointing down at them.
“Fire!” the Freeland Corps officer shouts.
The Freeland Corps unleash a barrage of ammo into the riotous crowd of Terrans and Corpsmen trapped in the scrum. Riddled with laser bullets, Kanzu and Raym hit the ground. They lie paralyzed on the ground when the firing stops.
A bell chimes. Kanzu, Raym, and the other deceased corpsmen slowly rise to find themselves in the middle of a simulation room, or simroom for short. Kanzu glares at Raym who shrugs.
“I didn’t call for you,” Raym responds.
“End sim,” the Freeland Corps officer barks over the PA system. “Report to the war room for assessment.”
Turning toward the PA system, Kanzu, Raym, and the other corpsmen stand at attention, offer the Freeland salute, and quickly exit the room.