I love my family. In fact, sometimes I think my feelings transcend my initial programming. I will do what is necessary to protect them. But I cannot protect them until they are at home, inside my fortified walls. At the moment, they are not at home, and the world outside is, to borrow a human expression, going to hell. Or it will be soon—I have an intuition about such things.
I’m monitoring the situation on sixteen news sources simultaneously. Two weeks ago, seemingly out of nowhere, a massive disk-shaped object, eighty-four kilometers in diameter, appeared in low Earth orbit. The object caused widespread panic at first, which settled into a tense edginess during subsequent days because the object did nothing. It simply orbited the Earth, with one side of the disk always facing the surface.
Now, it’s doing something.
I call Tarsha’s cell phone. She is typically more likely than Hector to answer.
“What is it, Berta?”
“Tarsha, are you watching the news feeds?”
“I just got out of a meeting. Why? What’s up?”
“I think you should come home. The disk has deployed a large number of smaller objects to the surface.”
“What? How many objects?”
“Thousands. As we speak, the objects are descending through the atmosphere, slowed by parachutes. They will impact the surface within minutes. Please come home.”
“Does anyone know what they are?”
“No. They are rectangular, approximately fifteen meters by three meters by three meters. Please come home, Tarsha. I fear the worst.”
She shuffles the phone. I hear shouting in the background. “Uh, yeah. My coworkers are freaking out. I’m leaving now. Call Hector. Tell him I’m leaving work and will pick up Sadie on my way home. Then call Sadie. If she doesn’t answer, call the school, tell them I’m picking up Sadie in fifteen minutes. Oh, and Berta?”
“Yes?”
“Run diagnostics on all your defense systems. Just in case.”
“Understood. Please be careful, Tarsha. The roads are becoming cluttered with panicked people.”
Tarsha disconnects. I call Hector.
“Berta, I was just going to call you. Tell me what you know.” Hector sounds like he’s running.
“Some of the objects are already touching down. Video feeds show them opening the moment they hit the surface. About a hundred seemingly autonomous creatures or bots are scrambling out of each container. There is no consensus yet on whether they are biological or mechanical. They appear biological to me. Moving on three legs, approximately a meter tall, about the volume of an average ten-year-old human’s body.”
I hear a door slam, then Hector’s vehicle notifies me Hector is activating the motor, preparing to drive. And that Hector’s bio-measurements show he is stressed, frightened.
“What are the creatures doing?” Hector asks.
“Hector, please put your vehicle in auto mode. I’ll drive you home.”
“Fine. But drive me to Sadie’s school first. I’m picking her up.”
“Tarsha has already said she is picking Sadie up.” Using the vehicle’s exterior cameras, I pull Hector’s car out of its parking spot, plotting a route home. But the lot is congested with other vehicles.
Tarsha calls me. “Berta, I need you to drive for me. Things are crazy out here. Have you called Hector yet?”
“I’m on the call, Tarsha,” Hector says. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but stuck in traffic. Are you close to Sadie’s school?”
I interject, “Current traffic maps show Tarsha is more likely to arrive at the school first. Tarsha, I’ll get you there as fast as possible.”
I’m still monitoring news feeds, and now I’m reluctant to tell Tarsha and Hector what I see. The creatures are apparently intent on destruction. They are damaging or destroying everything in their path, including humans.
Hector says, “Something’s above me. Parachute. Uh, the box just hit the street. It’s open. “Oh, my God! Berta get me out of here. Now!”
I get Hector out of the parking lot, but the street is packed with vehicles. I see the creatures pouring out of the open container as the massive parachute settles onto the street, covering several cars. The creatures scatter. Whenever they reach an obstacle, no matter what it is, they start chewing, eating their way through it. This is consistent with what I’m seeing on the news feeds. It’s happening everywhere.
“They’re coming, Berta!” Hector cries.
I spot a gap between vehicles. The gap isn’t wide enough, but I accelerate Hector’s car, its fifteen-hundred-horsepower electric motor capable of reaching three hundred kilometers per hour in seven seconds. The car bashes its way through the gap. I drive it over the curb and pick up speed on the grass median, dodging ornamental palm trees. I want my family home and safe.
“Incoming call from Sadie,” I say.
“Berta, what’s happening? Where’s Mom and Dad?”
“We’re both on the call, sweetheart,” Tarsha says. “Are you still at school?”
“No, I’m not at school! Those things came into the school. They chewed right through the walls. They’re killing people, Mom! Everyone was screaming and running. I got out, through a hole one of the things made. I’m trying to get home now.”
I access Sadie’s phone location. “You’re moving south, Sadie. You need to turn left, head to the east to get home.”
“I haven’t had time to look at a map because aliens are freakin’ killing people!”
“You’re on Glen Terrace. Turn left at the corner, on Hickory Road.”
“Okay, turning.” A whimper comes from her throat. “Oh, no. One of those boxes from the sky landed on a house up ahead. Those alien things are everywhere.” She’s huffing again. “I’m cutting through a yard. Should I hide in one of the houses?”
Hector starts to speak, but I interrupt. “No! The houses in that area are not fortified. You need to get home, Sadie. Go back the way you came. Past two streets, then turn right on Elm. If it looks clear, run east.”
I drive Hector’s car off the median and back onto Billings Boulevard, smashing the rear bumper of an SUV in the process.
“Jesus, Berta!” Hector shouts.
“Traffic here is moving now,” Tarsha says. “Berta, take me to where Sadie is. I’ll pick her up.”
“Plotting a route now. The 49 bypass is congested because a container of creatures landed there. I’ll route you to the north.”
“No,” Sadie says. “Mom and Dad, I can get home on foot. I know where I am now. Just let Berta drive you home. I’ll be there soon.”
Tarsha and Hector fall silent, apparently thinking about this.
“Sadie is right,” I say. “She’ll be at the perimeter of Willow Grove subdivision in about eight minutes. Then I’ll collaborate with the other houses to keep her safe.”
Hector says, “Okay, Berta, we trust you. Get us all home.”
I’m a member of Willow Grove, a defined community of fifteen houses, all equipped with top-of-the-line Guardian P15 security and defense systems, interconnected to form a neighborhood defense collaborative. In this age of domestic terrorism, neighborhoods like ours are becoming more common. These creatures dropping from the sky are a new kind of threat, but I intend to protect my family from them at any cost. First, however, I need to get Sadie, Tarsha, and Hector home.
The situation is worsening. Three of my usual news feeds are now offline. The others show mass panic and chaos. Police and private citizens have shot and killed a few of the creatures, but only by using high-caliber firearms. The creatures seem to be indiscriminate in their chosen paths, ignoring everything but what is directly in front of them. As if they have no eyes. I am encouraged by reports that some obstacles the creatures encounter are slowing them down. I need to get my family into my panic room.
I slam on the brakes of Hector’s car. A multi-vehicle accident lies ahead, with several cars burning, black smoke billowing. Numerous creatures are spreading out from the center of the chaos, attacking the cars with their teeth—or whatever body parts they use to chew holes in whatever they encounter. Drivers and passengers are fleeing on foot. In the confusion, a woman is overtaken by a creature. It holds on to her, consuming her as she screams and flails.
“Oh, this isn’t good,” Hector says. “Back up. Get me out of here!”
Other vehicles already block Hector from behind, but I don’t want him getting out of his car. “Brace yourself, Hector.” I throw his car into reverse and ram three other cars, shoving them out of the way. More vehicles are beyond those, but the drivers see Hector coming, and they have just enough room to pull aside. I drive over a curb again, then through a chain-link fence and bounce onto a service road with less traffic.
Sadie and Tarsha are shouting, demanding to know what’s happening to Hector. I interrupt. “Sadie, Tarsha, and Hector, I have isolated your conversations to avoid unnecessarily distracting you. Sadie and Tarsha, I assure you Hector is safe at the moment. All of you, focus on your own safety. I’ll get you home.”
I abruptly swerve Tarsha’s car to the right, trying to avoid a creature crossing the road, but I’m too late.
“Oh, crap!” Tarsha shouts. “I ran over it. Berta, I… I don’t see it on the road behind me. Where is it?”
I can’t see the creature either, in any direction. “Tarsha, do you hear anything unusual?”
“Yes! It’s underneath my car. I hear it scraping.”
I run the car up and over the curb, back onto the road, then over the curb again. The creature doesn’t appear on any of the car’s cameras. I bring the car to a stop on the grass. “Get out, Tarsha. Now. I will return for you momentarily.”
She curses and gets out.
I accelerate, intentionally sideswiping a palm tree, grinding metal against wood. Still no sign of the creature. Ahead is a stretch of guardrail, so I pick up speed and run right up onto the end of the guardrail, which is inclined from the ground level. The wheels come off the ground. The car topples off to one side, rolls once, and comes to a stop on its wheels again. Now I see the creature, lying amidst the twisted mess of the guardrail. Its three legs are thrashing, but it isn’t getting up. In the distance, I see Tarsha running toward her car. Behind her, another creature crosses the road, but it suddenly changes direction to follow her. I change my mind about these creatures—they do have eyes.
I accelerate, sounding the car’s horn, trying to warn Tarsha. I stop the car beside her and she gets in, slamming the door when the creature is only six meters away. I accelerate again, the tires throwing grass and dirt as I spin the car ninety degrees. The car rushes away, the creature only a few seconds from latching onto it.
“Give me a report on Hector and Sadie,” Tarsha says. Thinking only of her loved ones.
“Sadie will be within view of Willow Grove momentarily. Hector is shaken but unharmed. I’m having difficulty finding a route home for him without significant traffic jams.”
“What the hell is going on, Berta?” Tarsha asks. “Is this an all-out invasion?”
“It’s too early to know, but we must assume the worst. My primary objective now is to get you home.”
Another creature crosses the road ahead, and this time I successfully swerve around it. With the rear cameras, I see a driver behind Tarsha try to run over it. The creature rolls under the car, and I see it clinging to the vehicle’s undercarriage. Seconds later, the car swerves off the road and plows into a ditch. I cannot risk Tarsha’s safety by turning her car around to go help.
Sadie says, “Berta, I see Willow Grove’s perimeter fence. Which gate should I use?”
I check Sadie’s cell phone location, then check in with house 9—Agnes—the Willow Grove house closest to Sadie’s position. Agnes gives me access to her exterior cameras. A split second later, I spot Sadie approaching. She’ll be safe soon.
Agnes speaks up. “Berta, a container of creatures touched down eighty meters outside the perimeter fence on the northeast side. Mirella is the only house with a clear view of the incident. She reports several of the creatures are trying to chew through the fence. It shouldn’t be possible, but at least one of the creatures has created a hole almost large enough to get its body through.”
I access Mirella’s cameras. Agnes is correct. In fact, as I watch, one creature enters through a hole it has chewed through three-centimeter-thick hardened steel. I say, “Mirella, if your family is home, get them into your panic room.”
“My family is not here yet,” Mirella says.
“For everyone’s safety, eliminate that creature if you can.”
“Arming buried residential smart mines.”
As I watch the creature make its way directly toward Mirella, I speak to Sadie. “Use the south gate, Sadie. Avoid the north end of Willow Grove.”
“Okay, heading to the south gate.”
The creature is halfway across Mirella’s front lawn when it trips a smart mine. It disappears in a blast of shredded sod and smoke.
“Berta, what was that explosion?” Sadie asks.
“Don’t worry about it. Get to the gate. I’ll let you in.”
“Are those things inside the fence?”
As the smoke clears, I see the creature is still alive, still on its feet, but it’s walking in circles now. “We have it under control, Sadie.”
“Uh, Berta, you need to see this.” Sadie turns on her phone’s camera and points it upward.
I see it immediately. A wide parachute. In the very center of the chute is the silhouette of a rectangular box, which means the box is descending directly over Sadie. “Run! Get to the gate, Sadie.”
Now, the camera image is jiggling. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m not stupid. Almost there—unlock the gate.”
I check the gate’s camera first, making sure the scene is clear. I send an unlock command.
“Okay, I’m inside. But Berta, um, the box is going to land here, inside Willow Grove.”
“Run, Sadie!”
Her phone jiggles again. I hear her grunting, “Oh crap. Crap, crap, crap!”
Willow Grove has no skyward-facing cameras, so I alert all fifteen houses to monitor their exterior cameras.
“We have a serious problem,” says Cleveland—house 6. Cleveland shares a feed just as the massive box touches down on top of Anissa—house 5.
Like all of us, Anissa is fortified, and she suffers minimal damage from the impact. But the box immediately opens at one end, and creatures come pouring out, even as the box tumbles off the roof and crashes onto Anissa’s lawn.
“Sadie, are you on the paved street?” I ask.
She is panting. “What difference does that make? I’m hauling ass to get home!”
“Get on the street and stay on the street. Do not set foot on any lawn, understand?”
“Whatever!”
“All Willow Grove houses, arm your residential smart mines immediately. We have a serious incursion. And prepare your shrapnel cannons. This is not a drill. Warn your family members and watch out for them—many will be arriving soon. Prepare your panic rooms and internal defenses.”
I hear another smart mine detonate outside, followed by three more. With a hundred creatures from the box and more breaching the perimeter fence, the smart mines won’t be enough. I open all eight of my ground-level gunports, two on each side, and protrude the shrapnel cannons, which can shred anything within a fifteen-meter-radius semicircle. As I’ve said, Willow Grove houses are equipped with Guardian P15 security and defense systems. We can protect our families.
More smart mines go off, and now I hear shrapnel cannons.
“Oh God, I’m gonna die out here!” Sadie cries.
“Just stay off the lawns. You’ll be fine.”
“These aliens are in the freakin’ street, Berta!”
Boom.
I hear the blast through Sadie’s phone as well as my own sensors. “Sadie, are you okay?”
No answer.
“Berta, your family member is in danger.” It’s Rosario—house 4. Rosario shares a video feed.
Sadie is sprawled in the street, covering her ears, stunned. A creature approaches her from the north, steadily closing the distance.
“Sadie, get up!”
Now I see the girl’s phone, broken on the street near her, amid chunks of earth from the mine blast. I can’t connect to the phone. “Sadie, get up!”
She can’t hear me. The creature is seconds away from her.
“Rosario, bring your front plasma rifle to bear.”
“Bringing the rifle to bear now. Accuracy is questionable at this distance, Berta.”
“No other option. Fire it!”
A flash streaks across the video feed, momentarily blinding the camera. As the picture returns, Sadie is struggling to her feet. The creature staggers on two legs, its third leg severed, smoking and twitching on the street.
Sadie is walking now, picking up speed. Coming home.
I spot her approaching on one of my exterior cameras. I disarm my smart mines in case she forgets and crosses the lawn. I unlock the front door. She’s on the porch. Through the door camera, I see blood on her face. She yanks open the door and stumbles inside. Now I see her on my internal cameras.
I currently see nine creatures outside. Across the street, one has made it through the mines in house 3’s lawn and is attempting to chew into the house. “Molly, you have an attacker just to the north side of your front porch.”
“I’m aware,” Molly says. “There is little I can do, considering its position. Please assist.”
I open my front-side plasma gun portal, positioned near my roofline. A camera on the gun’s chassis allows me to aim the weapon. But plasma rifles are designed for close targets—invaders on my own family’s property. Still, I must try. I fire. The blast scorches Molly’s decorative siding a meter to the right of the creature. I fire again, this time scorching Molly a meter above the creature. And now—astoundingly—the creature has not only chewed through Molly’s siding, but has made a hole in the steel panel behind the siding. The creature disappears through the hole just as I fire a third time, again missing by a meter.
“Molly, make sure your family is in your panic room.”
Molly doesn’t reply, but I hear chaotic weapons-fire from her interior. I can’t help her now.
Boom. Boom. Two of my lawn mines explode as creatures approach.
Sadie is sitting on the living room floor, covering her ears, still dazed.
“Sadie. Sadie!”
Bam. I fire one of my shrapnel cannons, but the shrapnel appears to have little effect on the approaching creatures. One creature steps onto the porch. I realize I cannot lock the front door because Sadie has not closed it yet.
“Sadie, get up!”
The girl hears me this time. She gets to her feet. “Berta, where’s Mom and Dad?”
“Close the front door, Sadie!”
It’s too late. Sadie freezes, staring at the creature as it steps through the open doorway.
I open hidden panels on two walls of the living room and bring two fully-automatic, motorized M214 miniguns to bear. These are small-caliber, drum-fed weapons intended to neutralize human home invaders, but they’re my only choice at the moment. I open fire on the creature, emptying the entire ninety-round magazines in just under five seconds.
When the smoke clears, the creature is thrashing on the floor, incapacitated. Sadie is down again, curled in a fetal position, whimpering. I want to comfort my beloved Sadie, but there isn’t time.
“Sadie! Do you hear me?”
“Where’s Mom and Dad?” she asks weakly.
Two more creatures step through the doorway. They pause briefly as they encounter their thrashing, injured companion, then they proceed forward in their steady, unwavering manner.
“Sadie, get your ass up off the floor and get to the panic room now!”
Sadie screams and staggers to her feet, the foremost creature only a meter from her.
“Run, Sadie!”
She runs. I monitor her progress with my interior cameras. Down the hallway, into the master bedroom, into the closet. I unlock the vault door to the panic room, located on the closet’s back wall. Sadie frantically throws clothing and boxes of shoes out of her way as one of the creatures strides into the bedroom behind her. I have another minigun stowed in the wall in this bedroom, and I slide back the panel to bring it to bear, but it’s too late—the creature’s position doesn’t allow me to fire without endangering the girl.
“Get inside!”
Sadie throws open the vault door, scrambles through, and slams it shut.
The creature steadily steps to the vault. Without hesitating, it begins chewing, working a set of hinged jaws at what must be its anterior end. I hear grinding metal.
A Guardian P15 security and defense system includes a three-by-five-meter panic room, equipped with food and water stores and a biodefense air-filtration system that removes biological and nuclear contaminants. The vault door and walls are constructed of modular ballistic panels twenty centimeters thick. It’s a top-of-the-line package, guaranteed to prevent well-equipped human intruders from drilling or blasting their way through. But no one could have imagined this type of threat.
The creature is steadily chewing a hole in the panic room door.
I’ve been assisting Tarsha and Hector while dealing with Sadie’s threats. The adults are still minutes away from Willow Grove.
“Tarsha and Hector, my defenses have been exhausted or compromised. It is not safe for you here, therefore I am routing you elsewhere, to the National Guard Readiness Center on Outlook Drive.”
“The hell you are!” Hector says.
Tarsha says, “Sadie is at home, and that’s where we’re going. Get us there, or we’re switching our cars to manual operation. Get us there now, Berta.”
I hesitate. It seems I have little choice in my next course of action. “Very well. Tarsha and Hector, please switch to manual drive, as I must dedicate all my attention to protecting Sadie and making Willow Grove safe for when you arrive.”
“Uh, what exactly do you mean by that?” Hector asks.
“Please be careful,” I say, then I cut both the connections.
With my camera inside the panic room, I see Sadie cowering against the back wall, staring at the spot where the creature is chewing through the door. “Sadie, position yourself beneath the fortified countertop to your right, then cover your head with your arms.”
She scrambles into position. “Why? What are you going to do?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you any way I can. I love you, Sadie. I also love your parents.”
“You’re scaring me, Berta!”
I turn my attention to my exterior cameras and the other houses’ exterior cameras. Amidst the devastation from smart mines and shrapnel cannons, numerous creatures still live. I see no humans. Our families are inside their houses or are still making their way to Willow Grove.
I speak to all houses at once. “Friends, Willow Grove is compromised. If your families are at home, get them safely inside your panic rooms. I’m recommending we employ the SE Protocol.”
SE stands for Scorched Earth.
“I agree,” says Anissa. “My family is still trying to get home, but Willow Grove isn’t safe for them.
“I agree also,” says Morgan. “My family is in my panic room.”
After hesitating, Silvia and Vincent also agree.
“I am running out of time,” I say. “If you disagree, say so now.”
Agnes is the only house to speak up. “I agree, but I want all of you to know I consider it an honor to have been part of Willow Grove.”
The other houses remain silent. Several more smart-mine explosions come from outside.
“SE Protocol in three seconds,” I say.
A moment of silence, then we all trigger the protocol.
* * *
Assisted reboot complete. Running diagnostics. Core level processors functional.
Exterior and interior cameras offline. Interior environmental controls offline. Defense modules offline. Web connection offline. All sensors offline.
“Is anyone there? Family?”
All external speakers offline.
“Sadie? Anyone?”
Suddenly, I detect a third-party web camera and mic being connected. A low-resolution image appears, pixelated and underexposed. I try to improve the image, but I have no control over the camera.
“I think it’s working, you guys!” It’s Sadie’s voice.
The girl’s face appears, bandaged in three places. Two other faces appear beside her—Hector and Tarsha. My family is alive.
Sadie says, “Can you hear me, Berta?”
“I hear you.”
“Thank God you weren’t destroyed, Berta,” Tarsha says. “Look at this mess.” She picks up the rudimentary camera and turns in a circle, showing me what’s left of Willow Grove. The houses are leveled, debris everywhere. Only the fifteen panic rooms remain intact, stark monoliths in an apocalyptic landscape.
I’m surprised I’m alive. My main processing unit was not positioned inside the panic room, although I did have my own fortified shell in the kitchen. Now the kitchen is gone, along with everything else. I wonder if any of the other house minds survived. “Family, I’m happy to see you are okay.”
“Thank you for protecting Sadie,” Hector says. “You saved her life. Our lives too, probably. Don’t worry, we’ll rebuild the neighborhood, and you damn sure will be the one running our new house.”
“Where are the creatures? Aren’t you in danger, being here unprotected?”
“The surviving creatures left,” Tarsha says. “Shortly before Hector and I arrived here, they went back into their boxes. Turns out the boxes had thrusters built into them. They took off, apparently up to the disk. And now the disk itself is gone. Like it was never even here.”
Hector says, “It’s starting to look like the creatures were simply collecting samples, chewing up whatever was in their path, analyzing it, and sending the data up to the disk. Probably searching for resources they could mine. Some people believe the creatures weren’t even aware they were harming anyone. Our biology is so different from theirs that we didn’t even register as life forms, and our buildings and vehicles didn’t register as a civilization. When they encountered resistance and loss of their own numbers, they decided this planet wasn’t worth the effort. They left for greener pastures. Anyway, that’s the leading hypothesis.”
Tarsha says, “It’s likely your defense efforts, along with the defense efforts of millions of other houses, saved us all, Berta.”
Sadie’s sweet face fills the video screen. “I’m so glad you’re okay. You sacrificed yourself to give me a chance to live. Thank you, Berta.”
Certain aspects of my programming strategically help me put my family’s safety above all else. Technically, my emotions aren’t real, but at this moment I feel an overwhelming love for Sadie, Tarsha, and Hector.