Herman and the fat man sat side by side in a small, dimly lit room, a two-way mirror set into the wall. Both of them were chained to the bolted down metal table at the center of the room. Herman defiantly looked around, testing his bounds and searching for a way out. While the gang leader cowered away from the bald elderly man, adamantly avoiding his gaze.
Eventually the door in front of them opened. An exhausted looking mechanoid sporting a bushy gray mustache and worn leather armor stepped inside. Closing the door behind him, he turned around to face the two prisoners, looking down at the humans and silently evaluating them.
Herman absentmindedly examined the bot’s fantasy armor, wondering if he even needed it considering his metal plating seemed sturdier than the armor itself. At the same time his partner in crime nervously sweated under the pressure of the mechanoid’s unblinking stare.
Eventually the pressure proved too much and something in the mind of the gang leader snapped.
"He is insane, the newbie attacked me without provocation. I did nothing wrong, he is the one! Arrest him, officer, he is a mad man. Crazed psycho, attacking good tax paying citizens at random. Send him to prison or or, or better yet to Mindlock, that is where people like him belong, yeah that’s….." The gang leader blurted out, starting hesitantly at first, but gaining momentum and confidence the longer he spoke. Up until the mechanoid had heard enough. The guardsman pressed the glowing red button on the metal table. It making the gang leader disappear into oblivion with the signature cloud of pixels.
Herman spared a glance at the colorful cloud, then continued to stare blankly at the wall.
"Nothing to say?" The mechanoid challenged.
"Would it make any difference? I have learned that in these situations there are usually two outcomes. The ones in charge punish the victim for standing out for himself. Or they punish both sides regardless of who is at fault. And in either case, the victim is the one to suffer."
"And which one are you, Mr Novikov?" The mechanoid asked with a calm professional tone.
"Trying to get an admission out of me? What would it matter to you? You have already made up your mind.” Herman said with disdain. He knew what the purpose of the guards was, and it most certainly had nothing to do with protecting the people. “Just administer whatever punishment you have in store already and spare me the idealistic speeches of everyone getting along."
"We already know what happened." The mechanoid said with a calm voice. Pressing a blue button on the table, he summoned a holo-image. It depicted the section of the fire wall at the end of the queue. The fat man tripping Herman, then the entire group encircling him like wolves, and then the consequent retaliation from Herman’s side.
After the video ended, the mechanoid sat down on the wooden chair and twirled his gray mustache. “Call it a bot’s curiosity, I am somewhat of a psychologist. My profession requires a certain… insight, into the sentient mind. Why did you strike the other humans? Surely you could not have defeated all of them?“
Herman hesitated. Should he explain his reasoning? Should he tell the mechanoid that taking the boss of the group in such a brutal manner was meant as a deterrent for the rest? Was the mechanoid guard tricking him into confessing? Or was Herman tricking himself into believing that the attack’s intensity wasn't a resurfacing of his troubled past. Of letting the grief and pain take control over his actions…
“I have nothing to say to you mechanoid. Now, do what you came here to do." Herman coldly answered.
"Sigh… Very well…" The guardsman replied with a tired simulated sigh. He extended one metallic finger at the control panel on the table. His finger hovered over the red button for a few moments, but eventually veered of to press the bright green one to the side.
With a loud snap, the heavy metal chains restraigning the human’s arms and legs unlocked, then clanked down to the floor.
"Wha?" Herman exclaimed with disbelief.
"You are free to go." The mechanoid said. "You may resume your spot at the back of the line. Or you might reserve a room at one of the many inns at the base of the firewall. Don’t worry, your paper slip will notify you of your current position in the queue, as well as pay for any expenses.“
“Oh, and if you are curious… That gang you had the misfortune of encountering had their final strike. This wasn’t the first time they have done this, though it was one of the more memorable encounters they have had for sure. We couldn't figure their exploit till now, so we were helpless to take action. However for some reason you seemed to be the catalyst that summoned the scrutiny of the main Generica AI.”
“I am not sure why would a simple man as yourself garner such attention from a nearly god like being, and to be honest I don’t want to know. It is way beyond my pay-grade. I am just happy this particular problem is out of my domain.” The bot said, making sure not to look at the double sided mirror or the camera at the corner of the room.
"In any case, after the exploit was found and patched. The gang leader and his lackeys have been send away into the archive caves of the internet. Several years of Intense data mining will hopefully discourage them from messing with people and the System alike. "Then again, what do I know, I am only a mechanoid." The mustached guard shrugged, then opened the door, gesturing for Herman that he could depart the interrogation room.
The elderly man looked stunned for a long moment, eventually he stood up and approached the bot. "I was wrong about you it seems. Please accept my apology." Herman said, offering an extended arm as a peace offer.
The guardsman hesitated for a brief moment. Looking between the extended hand and the foreign “eyes" of the room who were no doubt recording everything. Finally he just shrugged and took the offered hand, shaking it firmly.
“It seems you were…” The bot murmured, a faint smile hiding behind his bushy mustache.
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…
Afterwards, the mechanoid led the man through the border control station and out to the neutral zone and the start of the queue. The two beings stood at the station entrance, right next to the firewall towering gates.
"At the back of the line at section 17B, there is a small inn embedded at the wall. If you want you can stay there for tonight. Just say that Chief guardsman Topo send you and you will get a special stew order on the house."
"Heh, thanks for all the help, I will definitely do that." The old man said with a smile, waving goodbye as he prepared to leave. Just before he turned however, the bot suddenly stopped him.
"Oh and one last thing." Topo conspiratorially said, looking to the sides and making sure nobody else was within earshot. "I can see now, from where your son inherited his drive. You did a good job raising him. Mechanoids and AI’s alike, are forever indebted to both of you."
And with that, Chief guard Topo left the scene, leaving the stunned human with his mouth open.
___
By the time Herman reached the end of the queue, the day had transitioned well into the late hours of the night. The cubical sun replaced by the light gray visage of the just as equally cubical moon. The shape serving as a constant visual indicator that this was indeed an artificial world. Ordinarily he would have taken a moment to admire the scenery, but currently other thoughts haunted his troubled mind.
Had he overdone it with the Gang leader? He wasn't usually a violent man… Yes, when the situation demanded it he could do what needed to be done. And the situation did demand it this time. If he hadn't struck first in such a decisive manner, then everyone from that gang would have torn him apart like feral wolves.
Still, perhaps he shouldn't have let his anger consume him to such an extent. He should have stayed in control… He just… People like that were responsible for ruining everything in the world. And he couldn't just stand and let them do whatever the hell they wanted! And yet that meant falling down to their level, fighting on their battlefield. That is exactly what his son did, what he STILL was doing even today. And he was no closer to achieving his goals than he was when he started. Cut of one head and the dragon grew two more. Or however that saying went…
Speaking of which… How had the mechanoid known who he was? He hadn't spend even a full day here, and someone already figured out EXACTLY who he was. That was quite concerning.
He checked the top left corner of his vision, the proxy of his appearance and speech was active. Meaning that his disguise wasn’t broken… Then how had the guard known…
He reassuringly patted the business card his son gave him. The touch giving him comfort and feeling of safety.
"Mmmgrthmmgrr!" An insistent voice from his pant’s pocket mumbled.
"What the?"
He pulled out the paper number slip to see what the problem was. But was immediately assaulted by the rapid barrage of words coming out of the tiny being.
"Oh my god oh my god oh my god you are Mecron’s dad! Eeeeeeeeee!!!" The energetic tiny voice of the number slip squeaked like an excited teenage girl meeting her favorite pop star.
"Tell me, how was Lord Mecron as a kid, did he like pistachios, did he have his signature mask back then, how did he??? Tell meeeeee!!!"
Herman suddenly ducked in fear, clasping the tiny mouth of the slip shut with a finger.
"Mmmu..mnnn mmmu!" The slip mumbled.
"Quiet you! Do you want to get me killed!?" Herman scolded with a sharp whisper. Frantically looking around to see if anyone had heard the overly excited slip’s outburst. There was a large number of people gathered around a fire, though thankfully they had organized a sort of singing night, so he doubted any of them had even noticed him walking by in the night.
Quickly running off further away from the back of the line, Herman carefully removed his finger from the slip’s mouth.
"Did he like wearing blue pants I always wondered what it would be like wearing pants and what about any hats did he like hats?"
"Calm down, calm down…" The concerned old man urged with a whisper. Head looking left and right again. The slip completely ignored him though, continuing to loudly spew nonsensical questions about his son…
"Silence!" Herman suddenly snapped. Scaring himself in the process and finally silencing the chatty queue number slip. "Please… I am sorry, just… How did you know I was Mecron’s father?" Herman asked with calm apologetic voice…
"Oh I saw the business card in your pocket (:" The slip cheerfully answered. "And I told all my 3 446 376 friends about it too, smiley face (:"
Herman suddenly got pale as a ghost. "Did you saw the code on the card too?"
"Nope, smiley face (: There was no code to see. Is it true that Mecron has a pet hamster? The rumors are killing me!"
"What do you mean there is not…. Oh no…" Herman suddenly paled as he pulled out the business card, which indeed was very much lacking in any secret life saving codes. However what it lacked in secret codes it very much compensated with the faint but nonetheless distinct aroma of freshly picked bananas.
"Fucking bananas!" Herman cursed, crushing the business card in his hand. "I ate the original one! I fucking ate it! Gah! Stupid stupid stupid!"
After a few more minutes of frantic cursing and self blaming, Herman finally ran out of energy. Sitting down on the sandy dunes, he looked at the distant skyscrapers representing the rest of the internet.
"You done?" Asked the paper slip.
"Yup, both literally and figuratively, I am done.” The man replied in defeat. “You, my chatty friend have ensured my death."
"Never! I would never do anything to hurt Lord Mecron or his family! I’d rather die than betray you or the great crusade!" The tiny paper slip responded in a manner not so dissimilar to a revolutionary fanatic.
"Didn't you just say to your gajillion friends who I was and where they could find me?" The man asked with resigned voice. "Hell, this place will be swarming with assassins and "off the books" special ops teams in no time. Not to mention that vindictive enforcement AI."
Herman could almost feel them coming for him. Maybe he could escape while they fought over the honor of being the first ones to chop off his digital head.
"Nooo, you got it all wrong! I mentioned you only to my fellow AI and mechanoid friends. And all of my friends are great supporters of your son’s mission. If anything we are here to help you!"
"Mhm sure you are…" Herman croaked, still unconvinced. "I never knew that being a father of a supervillain would be so troublesome… Wait a minute, how did you know I was Mecrons dad?! I could have been just any random schmuck having a Mecron business card."
"Oh I just assumed you were, call it an AI’s intuition. And besides, you just admitted you were, smiley face (:"
Perhaps it wasn't too late, that blasted paper slip had nothing on him! He was just guessing. The old man thought. "Can you perhaps maybe send another message to your gajilion friends, saying you made a mistake?" Herman said with a sliver of hope.
"Nope, smiley face (: I am currently live streaming this conversation to my gajillion friends as a final confirmation to the few remaining nonbelievers who doubted your identity."
"Of course you are…." Herman placed one tired hand on his face and half sighed half screamed with utter defeat.
"What if…." He again tried one last desperate attempt to squirm out of whatever this was.
"I am sensing you might be about to suggest that you were lying and only impersonating being related to the mighty Lord Mecron. In which case my friends and I would be extremely displeased, and assassins or swat teams would be the least of your worries." The paper slip threatened with a menacing tone, its tiny digital eyes flaring blazing red.
"N..no no, I wasn't lying.. I… sigh… I am Mecron’s dad…"
Herman said in defeat, giving a tiny half wave toward the slip’s camera, which no doubt recorded and redistributed his confession to god knows how many people…
"Excellent, smiley face (: “ The paper slip said with its signature happy demeanor. “Now, let's find that inn at the side of the wall. I am starving!"
