“What if I told you with the snap of my fingers I could simultaneously end every war throughout the entire globe? Every rebellion, every citizen conflict, and every policing event could be nothing but a bad memory,” said the CEO of Robo-Tekk as he enunciated to the world atop a large podium. Surrounding him was a modest crowd of about fifty thousand men, most of them current or former soldiers.
“With this technology my company has come to bear, casualties and prisoners of war will become a thing of the past. For on this day forward the wars and the precursors to battle won’t be fought by men riding in tanks or men commanding battleships. No—they will be fought, directed, and burdened by machines.”
The Robo-Tekk CEO took one large breath to straighten his ivory jacket and gold-lined pockets as his perfect, white teeth sparkled with each word. “I present to you a world where not one human has to give the ultimate sacrifice; instead, I bring forth the future.”
“Machines—assemble.”
The stadium adjacent to the Robo-Tekk CEO began teeming with hot, green light that radiated from the stage as the once-flat panels began to slowly open. The crowd was silent at first, but with each passing moment murmurs of curiosity began to trickle to life. Some soldiers got off their seats to lean in and get a closer look, startled by such preposterous claims by the Robo-Tekk CEO.
As the stadium panels locked orthogonal with the floor, soft-colored smoke began to protrude from below, engulfing the CEO and the front audience of the expo in an aura of mystery. The steam spread far and wide, reaching new heights each passing moment. Audible gasps trickled from the stands, with onlookers not knowing whether to sit back and relax or run to get help.
After a few minutes or so, the smoke finally subsided, but in its place rested three rows of tin soldiers (or, more accurately, some top secret alloy concoction undisclosed by Robo-Tekk). These robot men stood perfectly still, showing no signs of life, appearing as nothing more than overpriced display room manikins. No lights left their eyes, no smiles graced their faces, and no curiosity crossed their minds; put it simply, they appeared to be tin cans.
“Once again, I present to you the future. Operation Game Over, commence.”
The CEO hesitated in order to build dramatic effect.
“Machines initiate.”
With those few words, the machine’s eyes began to glow a light green that made its way down to their chests. In addition, their arms and limbs went from complete stagnation to shifting with minor vibrations. These soft vibrations became more violent and vigorous by the instant until they started to jerk into actual movements.
Within no time at all, the robot soldiers began stepping forward in perfect unison with each other. The oddest thing about their approach was not the extreme precision or the velocity; no, it was their ability to appear so human, reminiscent of a genuine battalion.
From the opposite side of the stage, a loud humming developed. The noises sounded faint and ominous, almost as if they were nothing but some deep, subconscious fabrication of a soldier’s mind. However, within time, they slowly grew in intensity too. The crowd, now free from smoke, moved in even closer to get a better look at the action despite the danger that was presented initially. Even the scientifically disinterested and half-asleep started to become enthused as they looked up from their pamphlets and miscellaneous reading materials.
“I present to you all the first unit of my new division,” the CEO said. “Step forward, my Armageddon-Busters.”
The once benign sounds and minor scraps from afar began to come to fruition as they seemingly twisted and transformed into the rolling swipe of large, rubber threads on pavement.
“Soldiers, prepare to engage your enemy.”
The army of machines, or the Armageddon-Busters, as the CEO of Robo-Tekk dubbed them, began to fall into formation, aiming their rifles and various gizmos of war at the miscellaneous target just off stage. They clicked and snapped right into place, magnetically destined to fine-tuned coordinates preplanned by computers.
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At just that moment, the rolling sounds were mysteries no longer as a convoy of a few tanks emerged from off-scene.
The audience, despite the tank’s appearance, seemed to care less as the sweet adrenaline triggered by their untamed curiosity got the better of them. Nearly everyone was standing now, with a few men seemingly rushing the stage almost as if they had never seen a loaded tank before—rolling straight at them.
“Engage.”
With that one word a storm of light erupted from the metal soldiers as a brigade of shots launched off, seemingly piercing through metal like it was nothing but paper. The soldiers then quickly repositioned, snapping into place again around each other before firing second and third consecutive rounds. The onslaught continued for thirty seconds more as the soldiers shifted in perfect unison.
At the end of it all, the tanks were still standing; however, that was exactly the point: the tanks, despite the enormous amount of engineering hours that went into them all, had a weakness. Small, slightly less armored pieces or exposed panels needed for mobility or to satisfy weight constraints were present, and these metal soldiers could target each weakness with almost a hundred percent accuracy without a moment’s hesitation. Before an enemy tank driver could even launch a blast, they would have already been grounded out and incapacitated. And even if they did manage to get off such a shot, it was rumored that robot soldiers could walk off an impact with nothing more than some dented metal.
At this moment, the crowd exploded to life even more than before as a sea of applause flowed throughout the stadium’s core. People, fellow engineers, soldiers, and seemingly everyone stood with their mouths open—stunned. Best of all, the tanks that were so thoroughly and easily defeated were those of Robo-Tekk’s top competitor.
The Robo-Tekk CEO could do nothing but smile as he appeared to be moments away from bowing to his peers after completing a perfect performance. When the crowd finally simmered down after several minutes of cheering, the Robo-Tekk CEO returned to his podium.
“All of this can become a reality if we secure the majority of the Department of War’s funding.”
He then paused to smile.
“Just think how a president who stopped every world conflict without even losing a single soldier would be remembered. I kid you not—all of this can be under the government’s complete control if we are allowed to finish the building of the Grid.”
Fifteen hundred-inch Jumbotrons behind the CEO flickered on, presenting images of the Grid, a state-of-the-art weapons facility for both controlling and manufacturing Robo-Tekk’s military units.
“Not only does the Grid present its wielder with total, unique control over the Armageddon-Busters, but it provides a virtually limitless power source for them as well.”
The jumbotrons displayed images of large machines on spindles shifting around partially built robot soldiers as they were assembled, serialized, and electrified to life—literally. These mechanized infantrymen may have appeared lifeless and obedient at the surface level; however, they were all infused with AI consciousness. This capability was needed to fulfill the soldier’s best feature—autonomous mode. With this setting, the infantrymen would invade and conquer foreign targets without external user commands or any outside intervention needed. In a way, the soldiers were precise, fearless, nearly indestructible, decision-making killing machines.
Before it may have been a lie to say that every person in the crowd was standing and cheering. In fact, there was one man that remained seated the entire time. This man being the only one the Robo-Tekk CEO truly cared about since the figure controlled the funding for the largest military operation in the world.
His name was General Stein, the president’s right-ear, a warmongering, explosive patriot who loved nothing more than the sweet smell of ash from nuclear fallout. And even he, who was nearly impossible to please, was impressed. This was evident by the big, fat gushing smile that consumed his face as his brief and fleeting initial applause began to grow faster and louder with each second until it thundered to life.
The Robo-Tekk CEO could see it all now: the general awarding his company the largest contract in the nation’s history. A check with so many zeroes that he and his fellow compatriots would be rolling in dough for nearly half a century. It would be so much that they would not even know what to do with all the money. In fact, their product was so exceptional that the Robo-Tekk CEO might even secure future, more impressive (greater moolah-bearing) contracts for years; no, decades to come.
Despite all the commotion, there was still one final thing that had gone unnoticed. Above the crowd, stashed away in some upper compartment in the stage area, was a shadow leaned over, lying even, and grasping some metallic object. Attached to the mystery item was a precision scope equipped with red-glowing crosshairs and a target light. This item of somewhat vague ambiguity was a gun—a rifle, to be exact—and it was aimed right at the head of General Stein. With one shot, the general would have a gaping hole where his head once was, all for some devious or somewhat malformed purpose.
The supposed assassin then rolled his shoulder, loosened up his arms, clicked back his gun’s hammer as he peered down the scope and pulled the trigger.
—Bang.
