SATURDAY, 12:24 A.M.

From the cockpit of his blue compact, hands on the wheel, Adam looked up at the Cyclops. There was that marvel of technology, standing in the air above the avenue, above the cars that passed below, dressed just like a human being as protocol dictated. Although here, that outfit had a story to tell.

The Cyclops’ purple raincoat was so gnawed that it had already lost its left sleeve and a piece of the right, and through the tears, Adam saw those arms with solid silicone muscles, filled with circuitry and covered in part with metal plates. Beneath the raincoat, the automaton was wearing one of those dark jumpsuits, very common in these models, but it was so torn below the knee that his robotic legs were exposed among shreds of cloth.

The remarkable thing about this android, however, where the protocols Adam knew of had been violated, was the antigravity system that it surely had incorporated to be able to hover like this—he didn’t carry one of those winged backpacks on his back. Of course, besides the shape of his visor. The red eye of this Cyclops was not a perfect circle like the current models, but rather almond-shaped, something that truly evoked the idea of a huge, wide-open human eye; it even had some sort of iris engraved in the center.

“It’s an old A60,” Adam pointed out. “An A60-R8 to be exact. These models fell into disuse years ago.”

“Stay inside and get ready,” Juzo ordered and got out of the vehicle, closing the door behind him.

“Where are you going?!—Ready for what?!” Adam reopened the passenger door. “I’m not leaving you here! Get in! Let’s go!” he yelled to his brother, but when he tried to move the car forward, not only did the compact stay in the same spot, but the lights on the dashboard flickered; then, the engine itself shut off with a click.

Adam tried to reactivate the vehicle, but to no avail. The engine was dead. Had the android caused it?

He wasn’t going to stay inside, waiting for the Cyclops to come for him, so he got out of the car. His feet trembled, but he held on to the door and used it as a shield. It was clear that there was no chance but to face the automaton and pray for the best of luck.

“Do you know if he has an assigned name?” he asked his brother.

“Broga,” Juzo replied.

“Android Broga…” Despite his jaw shaking, Adam spoke loudly to the Cyclops to be heard over the traffic. “What is your license number? Respond and rectify your orders!”

The android remained silent.

“He won’t answer you,” Juzo said, and with a jump, he slid across the body of the car to get in front of Adam.

“The obedience matrix kicks in when he hears his name,” Adam said. “No matter how old the model is, all Cyclops come from the factory with it. If he tells us his license code, maybe we could change his Protocols and—”

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“Turn yourselves in and everything will be over quickly,” said the A60.

That synthesized voice announced that everything was going to hell.

The android extended one of his cybernetic arms toward them, and a long cannon sprouted from the palm of his hand. His stiff fingers caught electrical discharges from the air as if they were small lightning rods and condensed them in the muzzle of the weapon. The static ruffled the lint and bits of cloth dangling from the raincoat.

Juzo grabbed Adam’s arm. What the hell?! Was he going to hand him over to the android or use him as a human shield!?

At the tip of the Cyclops’ cannon, the energy formed one of those balls of blue light. His arm had become a laser cannon about to spit out a blue hell.

Adam held his breath.

The A60 Broga fired.

Adam closed his eyes, and before he could shield himself from the scourge of the discharge—if that was possible—something pulled him by the arm, next to the wrist, where Juzo was holding him, and his feet left the ground. Something held him from behind and under his arm, and his face got pressed against a damp-smelling cloth. He heard a bang, followed by a small shower of debris falling to the ground. Chunks of pavement, he knew it; the bomb had exploded on the pavement! He opened his eyes and found himself in the dark and pressed against Juzo. He tried to wriggle free, but couldn’t, so he looked away and found himself flying. Vertigo took his breath away. They were many, many feet above the elevated avenue, well above the passing cars, his blue compact, double-parked, and a pothole enshrouded in a dust curtain, dangerously close to his vehicle as a result of the enemy attack.

In the blink of an eye, Juzo had activated the thrusters on his back, unfolding them from under his backpack and between the shoulder straps, grabbed his brother in a kind of bear hug, and shot into the sky as if he were a human cannonball.

Adam freaked out, clung to Juzo like a frightened kitten, and screamed until he gasped for air.

“Shut up!” Juzo shook him.

Adam hushed and distinguished a crackling whistle coming toward them, a hiss that wasn’t coming from the turbine-wings. Juzo went down, and a sphere of energy passed over them. The Cyclops was right behind there, flying; electrical clouds in its hand cannons, ready to turn them into power grenades.

Oh, shit! The last shot was still buzzing in Adam’s ears.

Juzo dodged another attack, one that, had it hit him, would have landed on his back, obliterating his cloth pack along with his jet wings.

Fine, if those were the enemy’s intentions…

Like an airplane undergoing a suicide demonstration, the soldier turned and dove toward the avenue. The twins went from being in the semidarkness of the night, flying over the building tops, to diving into the city lights, falling straight into the street.

Gravity, at its finest, acted on Adam like a giant hand, pulling him by the head toward the ground. Vertigo devoured his insides, more than the worst roller coaster he had ever ridden in his life had done. They were in free fall, ready to slam into traffic, and the wind slapped him. He gripped Juzo with all his might and begged for his heart to withstand the tension. The crackle of another sphere was coming toward them, and a ball of blue light passed over his brother’s head, then continued on and out into the night. That one was so close, the electricity from the discharge pulled on his hair.

Then came another shot to Juzo’s head, this time in a vertical line, but dodging it, the lightning sphere continued straight into the highway, finally impacting the trailer of a truck, causing it to overturn and collide with two other trucks, triggering a pile-up that spread down the avenue with endless rumbles, honks, and screeching tires. The trailer of the vehicle became a ball of fire that rose toward the two of them, opening like the jaws of a beast in search of something to devour. Adam let out another cry and pressed his face against his brother’s chest; the stench of burning fuel filled his nose, his eyes stung, and the hot air was so strong that for an instant he thought he was on fire. He’d never felt such heat, such terror.