Guardian #1 - Angel (David Byron)

Angel
By David Byron

“Remind me again why we’re down here?”
It was a reasonable question. After all, the building had been abandoned for years, and the only surviving things were the underground tunnels. Even the rats had fled for greener pastures.
“There’s this… vault, under here, see? And no one’s ever gotten into it.” Jonesy was grinning like mad. “We’re gonna be the first!”
“Jonesy,” said Blackburn, in that tone of voice heard mostly talking to a toddler in a candy store, “If no one’s ever got in, how d’you know it exists?”
“There’s plenty of people been scared off. Some kinda security. We’re just not gonna be cowards, yeah?”
“Coward sounds nice right about now,” said Markos, with his customary wavering voice.
“Marky,” said Jonesy, putting his arm around him, “my old, pal, you’re afraid the shadows in your bedroom closet. That’s why you’ve got me and Bernie here.” He indicated Blackburn, who grunted and moved further ahead.
“But… these people who’ve run off… they’ve had a good reason, right?” Markos looked around nervously.
“Bah, just an old ghost story. Nothin’ down here but us and some earthworms.” As if to confirm his statement, Jonesy tapped the earthen wall of the tunnel. “I tell ya, whatever’s in that vault’s gonna make us all richer than you can dream up, and nothin’s gonna get in –”
“Hush up back there,” hissed Blackburn suddenly. “I heard something.”
They all held their flashlights aloft. They all held their breath; Jonesy in delight, Blackburn with a predator’s anticipation, and Markos simply to keep from hyperventilating.
The tunnel had up until now been mostly winding to and fro, but now it straightened out into a long corridor. At the end of the corridor was a large metal door, and sitting in front of the door was –
“It’s a girl!” whispered Jonesy. “What’s she doin’ down here?”
And it was, indeed, a girl: not out of her teens, with long blond hair and pale skin. She appeared to be staring directly at the floor.
The team advanced cautiously, unsure what to make of the new development.
“She’s young enough to be my daughter,” breathed Markos.
Blackburn was looking past the girl, at the door. “I still hear it,” he murmured. “Some sort of… whirring?”
“Ha!” Jonesy started laughing aloud. “This is what’s got ‘em all scared? This? Ha ha, yeah, I’m tremblin’, I am!”
“Be quiet, man!” Markos muttered anxiously. “We don’t know who she is!”
“Oh, come on, Marky! You think she’s a threat?” Jonesy almost fell over in his convulsions. “She probably couldn’t lift the key for that door!” He stumbled forward, still laughing.
She raised her head. Her piercing blue eyes stared all three of them down. Jonesy stopped; even he was apprehensive under her gaze.
“You are trespassing.” Her voice was even, yet somehow seemed to resonate off the dirt walls of the corridor.
“Yeah?” said Jonesy, some of his defiant bravado returning. “So what if I am?”
The girl turned to look directly at him.
“I can smell the alcohol on your breath,” she informed him. “You are in danger as long as you continue to trespass. I would advise you to leave.” She looked at the other two men. “All of you.”
Jonesy looked at Blackburn. “Shoot her. She’s buggin’ me.”
Blackburn uncharacteristically blanched. “She’s just a kid. My contract didn’t –”
“You contract says you navigate me and my pal here to the hospital and inside the vault.” Jonesy punctuated his words by jabbing his finger at the door. “She’s blocking our way. I am literally paying you to get her out of the way.”
Blackburn stubbornly kept his rifle pointed at the ground. “Not enough, you’re not.”
Jonesy scowled. “Fine. I’ll do it myself. See if you’re getting anything after we’ve looted the vault.”
The girl gave a crooked smile. “You talk rather coherently for a drunkard.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve had practice.” Jonesy stomped forward toward her, and abruptly stopped. “Ouch!”
“What is it?” Markos started to say, and then his voice trailed off. A translucent blue barrier had appeared between Jonesy and the girl. Apparently Jonesy had walked right into it. He punched it a couple times to make sure it was solid, and then stepped back.
“This is your last warning,” said the girl, now with a hard edge in her voice. “Turn back, or you die.”
Jonesy looked at Blackburn. “Break it.”
Blackburn raised his gun. “That I’ll do.”
The girl sat passively as Jonesy moved to the side. Blackburn slapped a clip of armor-piercing slugs into one of the ammunition chambers and fired off three shots. The echoes reverberated off the thick walls as the bullets thudded into the shield.
Jonesy examined the damage. Given that the shield was only half-visible, the bullets appeared almost to be hovering motionless in midair. But they had made holes. Shallow holes, but holes nonetheless. He pulled out his flashlight and hammered the shells deeper into the barrier. Every time he struck, shockwaves rippled through it. It flickered and dimmed, and then finally went out.
Jonesy shouted in triumph and rushed forward. “I gotcha now, bitch! I gotchurk!”
Without even seeming to have moved, the girl was now standing directly in front of Jonesy, her hand wrapped around his throat.
“I won’t ask again,” she said, now deadly cold. “Please. Leave.”
She let go. Jonesy buckled slightly, coughing. He looked up.
“I’ll see you in hell first!” he choked out. He jumped suddenly, using his leverage to aim a punch squarely at her face. Unfortunately, she had already stepped to the side, and he fell flat on his face.
Blackburn wasted no time; he holstered his rifle and pulled out his sidearm, loading it with gas pellets in the same swift movement. He drew a bead on the girl, who was moving toward Jonesy’s motionless body.
“Make one more movement and I drop you where you stand,” he barked.
She stopped, glancing at him.
“You are in danger as well,” she said. “Leave, or you will die along with him. The door must not be opened.”
“No one’s killing anyone today,” Blackburn said through gritted teeth. “Not on my watch.”
“SHE is!” Jonesy was back on his feet, brandishing a gun of his own.
Again moving faster than the eye could see, the girl kicked the gun out of Jonesy’s hand and pinned him against the wall. “Last chance.”
Jonesy struggled futilely against her grip, tore at her skin, and spat in her face.
“Wrong answer.” Her hand tightened against his throat. He coughed and flailed, but eventually went limp. She threw him aside, and then looked at the remaining two men.
“NO!” Markos rushed toward the fallen body. (Blackburn, having seen his paycheck disappear before his very eyes, had fled.) Jonesy wasn’t dead, he couldn’t be…
His train of thought was interrupted by the girl’s arm slamming into his neck. He fell backwards, her knee pressed firmly into his sternum.
“Do you have any last words?” she asked calmly.
He gasped for air. “W-wait… wh-why?”
“Why what?” Now she looked curious.
“Wh-why do you d-do it? Why are you guarding the door?”
She flinched and backed away. Markos coughed a couple of times and stood up. “What is it?”
“I… I…” She continued to stumble backward. Markos strained to hear her; she seemed to have forgotten him entirely.
“I can’t stop seeing his face…”
Markos’ panic was subsiding, but worry was rapidly replacing it. “Whose? Whose face?”
She didn’t seem to hear him. She returned to her seat in front of the door and resumed staring at the floor, a despondent expression on her face
Markos timidly approached her.  It was then that he noticed the scratches on her arm, when Jonesy had been clawing at her.
They weren’t bleeding.
“What are you?” he breathed.
Finally, she looked up at him. “I must protect this room. My father told me to.”
“But… you’re…”
She held up her arm. He could now clearly see the metallic sheen under the skin.
“Yes,” she said. “I suppose ‘father’ isn’t the correct word.”



Dr. Erlissen sat in his poorly-lit study, writing. He did a lot of writing in his old age; it was easier than hands-on work. At least when he wrote theories on robotics, he couldn’t be proven wrong until after he was dead, and one more failure would be too much for him to handle.
There was a knock on his door. “It’s unlocked,” he said slowly. Strange… he hadn’t expected a visitor at this hour.
In stepped a uniformed officer. “Doctor Carl Erlissen, you are under arrest for possession of robotic contraband and stolen property.”
The doctor raised his hands, a grim smile on his face. “Of course, my trail wasn’t as cleverly concealed as I thought. What gave it away, may I ask?”
“We’ll save that for the trial, doctor. You have the right to remain silent…”
“Yes, I am aware. Go ahead and take me away; it’s not like I was working on anything important anyway.”
“You seem awfully confident, doctor.”
“Naturally, officer,” said Erlissen, almost jovially. “While I may be unlucky, I’m sure I still have a guardian angel somewhere to protect me.”
“Well, maybe you can use it as a character witness.” They walked out of the room. Neither of them saw the girl emerge from the shadows.
“Angel… protect,” she said slowly.



The old man rummaged through the dumpster. Kids were so careless these days. Sometimes left entire lunches lying around in the trash. Easy pickings for days when he couldn’t get work.
“Excuse me, sir?”
He turned at the sound. A blond girl, maybe thirteen, was stumbling toward him.
“Eh? Wozzat? Whachuwant?” he mumbled.
“I was just… just wondering… if you could spare any food?” She had her right arm wrapped in a sweatshirt, but was otherwise wearing only a t-shirt and jeans. Not terrific attire for cold nights like this one.
“Erm, I… well, I…”
“Please,” she implored, “I can’t find my father, and I’m cold and scared and alone, and…”
“Oy! Here’s something!” He pulled his hand out of the dumpster. A sandwich neatly cut in half, not even a day old. He took a large bite out of it, and grinned. “That’s the good stuff.” He gave half to the girl.
“Oh, thank you!” She grabbed it and scarfed it down.
“Easy now, kid, don’t gobble it all at –” He stopped. When she had grabbed the sandwich, the sweatshirt had fallen off her arm, revealing the stump beneath. But instead of a scab or skin, there was a mass of wires and metal plating.
“You… you’re –”
She tried to hide it, but the damage was done. The man ran, and didn’t look back.
“But I…” she almost sobbed, “I just need to find my father.”
She was left all alone again.



“Um… I’m sorry, but… who was it you were supposed to be visiting again?”
The hospital receptionist stared at the young girl.
“Doctor Carl Erlissen. I understand he is a patient here?”
“Well, yes, but… that was a long time ago, and… how did you say you were related to him again?”
“I’m his daughter. He didn’t know about me.”
The receptionist sighed. Clearly she meant “granddaughter”. “Well, I can have someone take you to him, but I’m not sure you’ll like it.”
“That’s all right. I just need to see him.”
“Well, okay then.” She summoned a nurse and said, “This girl wants to see C. Erlissen.”
The nurse started. “But –”
The receptionist lowered her voice. “She’s his daughter.”
The nurse did another double take. “She’s –”
“She says she’s his daughter, and she doesn’t know. Try and soften it as much as possible.”
“Oh…” The nurse offered her hand to the girl. “This way, miss.”
They went down several floors and finally came to a large door.
“Now, miss,” said the nurse carefully,” you must understand, your, uh… father was very old when he was admitted here, and…”
“Is this the morgue?” said the girl, much too casually.
“Well, yes,” said the nurse, slightly perturbed.
“It’s all right. I’ve been looking for a while now, and… I kind of guessed.” The girl’s voice broke.
“Okay, well… if you still want to see him…”
“Y-yes, please.” Though the girl’s face was sorrowful, she did not cry.
“All right,” said the nurse, opening the door.



“And you just… stayed here?” asked Markos.
“Yes,” she said. “I’d gotten quite good at hiding, and not many people came down there anyway. They never gave him a proper burial, there wasn’t the money. Eventually, people just… stopped coming. I created an airtight seal, broke the rest of the walls down, and buried the morgue myself.”
“And that… blue shield thing?”
The girl smiled slightly. “My father was rather bright, so I’m rather bright. I discovered the shield accidently the first time someone tried to break in here; apparently he built in some defense mechanisms. I’ve been taking parts off the rest of them to keep myself in repair.”
“Don’t you, you know, get hungry or cold or…”
“Yes,” she said simply.
“So then how are you still alive?”
“The hunger, the cold… they’re artificial responses generated by outside stimuli. My actual body is impervious to cold, and of course robots don’t need to eat.”
“And you just… stay down here? In spite of that?”
“I’ve conditioned myself not to react to them. I tell myself that I don’t need what my mind thinks I need.”
“But why can’t you leave?”
She wordlessly held up her arm. A panel retracted, revealing a glowing green screen with just one word written on it: PROTECT.
“I can never forget his face,” she said. “I can never forget his final order.”
“But… but it wasn’t an order! You remember, obviously…!”
She smiled again, this time bitterly. “Consciously, I know that my father did not know of my existence. He would never have given the order willingly. But… underneath that, I have more basic programming that I cannot ever defy. To obey my creator.” She couldn’t cry, but he almost believed he saw her eyes glistening.
“But that’s just so… unfair.” Markos almost couldn’t believe it.
“It might be unfair,” she said. “That doesn’t make it untrue.”
He thought of another thing. “Why are you telling me all this?”
She paused. “I guess it’s because you’re the first person who’s ever asked.”
He wasn’t really surprised.
“You are leaving, correct? You aren’t going to try and get past the door?”
“Oh, yeah,” Markos said vehemently. “No sense trying to break into an old morgue. And Jonesy probably needs a doctor in any case.”
“Good.” She settled back into her chair. “Leave me here. Let me gather dust. Forget this place exists.”
“Don’t worry, I will. And hopefully I can convince Jonesy to.” He hefted the body a couple of times and decided to drag it.
He was almost out of the corridor when he realized something.
“You never told me your name!” he called out.
She looked up, and smiled. “Just call me Angel,” she said.

Licensed under Creative Commons, CC BY-NC-SA 3.0.