10-4 Officer Landon

Jing-a-ling! Landon used his back to open the café door, a large coffee in each hand and late afternoon light glancing off the shining brass frames of his aviators as he exited the building. He set one of the coffees on the roof of his partner’s cruiser, freeing a hand to pull open the passenger door. Sliding into his seat, he grabbed the coffee once again and slid it into the cupholder by the driver. He pulled the sun visor down, the setting sun’s orange rays piercing his eyes through the windshield. Each day it set a bit earlier as summer waned, and tomorrow autumn would return.

The officer in the driver’s seat nodded with gratitude when the coffee was presented, but didn’t say a word, his attention on the dispatch assigning them a call.

“10-4, we’ll check it out,” he said into the radio as Landon put his coffee in his cupholder, then leaned to pull his door shut.

“What’d dispatch say?” Landon asked, picking his coffee up and taking the lid off the wonderful all-nighter energy, blowing on it to cool the brew.

His partner’s meticulous black mustache twitched as he picked up and smelled his coffee. Taking a dignified sip, Officer Calum ‘Cal’ Jacobs held up a finger asking his partner to wait a minute as the steaming coffee was savored. Landon never could figure out how the man never burned his tongue. Not a smidgen of discomfort crossed his face, no matter how hot the coffee Landon brought him was, not once in all the seven years they patrolled together. Even back at the academy, the man had been like he was now; pure charisma, from his smooth voice to his classy demeanor, and utterly immune to scalding coffee.

“We’re checking on a missing kid,” Jacobs said in his velvet voice, putting down his coffee and shifting the cruiser into drive. He continued to talk as they pulled out of the parking lot. “Seventeen-year-old male, name’s Marcus Fauce, 5’8”, Caucasian, brown hair, hazel eyes, and last known to be at his work address on Cornrow Lane.”

“Cornrow? I didn’t know there was anything out there still aside from empty fields.”

Jacobs shrugged. “There’s a few old farmhouses, only one or two aren’t fully abandoned yet. Not sure what kind of summer job the kid is working out there, but that’s the address his mother gave dispatch. Yesterday was supposed to be his last day, but she told dispatch he was called in for ‘one last thing’ before the summer ended, then never came home or called.”

“You thinkin’ it’s another runaway?”

“Most likely. Late teens and has a truck, and 98% of these cases turn out to be a kid breaking curfew.”

Landon nodded, but an uneasy feeling weighed on his heart. “Cal?”

“Yeah?” Jacobs sipped his coffee.

“What if this is the other 2%?”

Jacobs glanced at Landon with a frown. “You’re gonna jinx us, we’ve handled a hundred calls like this before, the kid is always fine.”

“Right, right,” Landon said. “I know. Just got that gut feeling, y’know? Something ain’t right.”

“Quit scaring me Lando, you know that your gut’s never been wrong before.”

“Now you’re the one who’s gonna jinx this call,” Landon said. “I could be wrong. Maybe it’s just bad coffee, y'know?”

Cal set his coffee back into its cupholder. “Better bad than none. Cornrow is still a half hour from town, and then it’s another ten minutes to the address, not to mention we drew the double tonight.”

“Don’t remind me,” Landon groaned, sliding down in his seat a little, rubbing his eyes. “I’m exhausted just thinkin’ about the next sixteen hours.”

“That’s why we stopped for coffee,” Jacobs smiled, his pearly white teeth flashing brightly as the sun sank below the horizon and the stars twinkled into view.

Landon chuckled and took another sip of his warm caffeine, but his humor faded as the foreboding in him did not rest.

I hope I’m wrong.

The landscape outside the cruiser was near featureless shadow, only the cracked asphalt was visible in the beams of the headlights. There were no lane markings in an area this rural, no streetlamps, and they had not passed another car for a solid twenty minutes. Untended fields stretched into the moonless night, and the only sound was the crunch of gravel beneath the tires and the thrum of the engine.

“What sort of job would there even be out here?” Landon asked, his aviators now tucked in the pocket of his patrol uniform, “There’s nothin' for miles.”

“You’re still on about that? What happened to ‘could be wrong’?”

Landon shifted his weight, the car seat feeling too confining against his need to do something.

“Cal, it doesn’t make sense, you know that. I’m telling you, something ain’t right about this call. Who hires a high school student to work out in the middle of nowhere?”

“I don’t know my friend,” Jacobs said, “but it’s the last place the boy was known to be. Last time anyone heard from him was when he called his mother from there, so it’s our best lead.”

Landon frowned. “I don’t like this.”

“I’m starting to agree with you.”

“Do you think- WATCH OUT!”

Landon was flung into the door of the cruiser as Jacobs swerved off the road, a dark gray pickup materializing out of the gloom five feet from their front bumper. Landon held his breath and cursed as the truck swerved away from certain death. It had no lights on and had been driving down the middle of the lane-less road at least twenty above the speed limit. Too busy gripping the door and center console to look closer, Landon only saw two brief flashes of light behind the truck’s wheel, like the reflections of headlights on a pair of glasses.

Must be blind to have glasses that size, Landon thought as the cruiser slid onto the dirt shoulder with Jacobs struggling to regain control. What in the blazes are they doing on the road without lights at night?!

The moment was surreal, almost as though it could not exist. It was too quiet as the cars narrowly missed each other, the horns forgotten. Tires scraped gravel, and brake lights flared in the darkness. The cruiser came to rest facing the opposite direction it had been traveling in, but it was otherwise unscathed. The truck however was still swerving, trying in vain to get back on the road, nearly tipping, then overcorrecting again and careening uncontrollably, flipping, and rolling onto its roof. It finally scraped to a halt, sparks burning in the night, tires in the air with one still spinning, as though it was unaware its efforts were futile.

Not wasting a moment, Landon jumped into action, grabbing the cruiser’s first aid kit and launching himself from the car while Jacobs called in the accident.

“10-48 on Cornrow...”

Crunch, crunch, crunch. Landon’s steps were especially loud in the quiet night as he ran to the overturned truck. Passing the truck bed, he raced to the driver’s side door, “Sir, ma’am, are you alright?”

He knelt, flicking on his flashlight to see inside the cabin. “Are you- HOLY!?”

Landon tried to stand but fell as he accidentally tangled his own feet together in his haste, his flashlight dropping to the pavement and rolling to where it illuminated the driver. The veteran cop scrambled back on the seat of his pants, kicking, a look of terror on his face.

Inside the truck cabin was something he could only describe as not human. After another moment he noted it was robotic, or at least mechanical in appearance. It squinted as the light of his fallen flashlight glared in its face; the metal apertures of its optics almost fully closed. For a brief moment, Landon could only watch from his place sitting on the asphalt, his mouth agape and limbs trembling, as the being unbuckled its seatbelt and fell to the roof of the truck. Clang! It then sat up and kicked the driver's side door.

Clunk!

Clunk!

CLUNK!

With a shriiiieeek! the door gave way.

His stupor shattered by the painful noise, Landon got to his feet and drew his taser as he retreated from the thing now crawling out of the car. “Y-you stay back!”

The automaton paused and looked up at Landon. Did it understand him? He could see comprehension in the warm white light of its optics. It looked almost afraid.

Don’t be ridiculous, Lando, Landon admonished himself, gripping the taser tighter. You don’t know what that thing is. Don’t drop your guard!

The automaton stood and gestured to himself, then to Landon, then the car, then pointing down the road. Seeing Landon’s confused frown, it repeated the motions before throwing its hands up as though frustrated. Then it took a step toward Landon.

“Stay the hell back!”

It paused, pointed at Landon again and then at its throat and face, then took another two steps forward.

“Stop!” Landon ordered, his hands shaking. He glanced at the cruiser, but his view of it was blocked by the wrecked truck. His partner had no idea things were going wrong. Landon was on his own.

Looking back at the automaton, it had closed the distance in the brief second Landon had looked away. Its hand reached for him, and Landon screamed, his voice cracking and jumping an octave.

“GET BACK!”

As the bronze hand closed around something in Landon’s pocket, Landon pressed the taser against the metal being’s shoulder and pulled the trigger, shoving the thing back so its hand was yanked clear from his person. His taser was meant to be used from a distance, but to Landon’s relief, it still did its job as the automaton convulsed and the hum of arcing electricity filled the air with the taste of copper. After several moments the automaton collapsed into a seizure on the ground as Landon took several steps back.

Crunchcrunchcrunch!

Running footsteps came from the other side of the truck as the automaton stilled and its eyes went dark. A faint ticking sound emanated from it still, and a small light on the back of its head pulsed yellow. Jacobs rounded the totaled truck and skidded to a stop.

“Holy mother of- what is that?!”

Jacobs’s eyes were fixed on the fallen machine, his mouth agape. Landon, his hands shaking and his breath coming in gasps, looked up at his partner. “I have no idea...”

“You tased it?”

Landon looked at the taser still in his hands. “Uh, yeah, it- it tried to assault me, I think?”

Jacobs scowled. “Then let’s get rid of it before it reboots or something, I’ll get the cruiser. We’ll smash it to pieces under our tires before it can even think of attacking again.”

He turned and began to walk away when Landon grabbed his wrist. “Cal, don’t.”

Pulling his hand free, Jacobs gave Landon a baffled look. “What do you mean ‘don’t’? We don’t know what that thing will do, and it’s probably only deactivated by your taser. I can hear it ticking and see that little light blinking and I know you hear and see it too. What if it wakes up?”

Landon glanced down at the machine. It was expressionless now, but it wasn’t dead. It still ticked. Maybe Cal is right... Then Landon remembered how desperately the automaton was gesturing at him, then how it had tried to grab his pocket. Looking down at it, he saw his notepad sticking out, and it suddenly clicked.

“I think it was trying to communicate with me,” Landon said, pulling the notepad from his pocket. “It was tryin’ to grab this before I tased it. We should at least take it to questioning first, then the higher ups can decide what to do with it.”

“Are you crazy? It just tried to attack you, you just said so.”

“I think that I misunderstood. It couldn’t talk, and it was gesturin’ at me. Maybe it can write or sign.”

Jacobs buried his face in his hands before rubbing them down, exasperated. “Lando, if you didn’t understand its ‘gesturin’, it can’t sign. It’s a robot, and this isn’t some movie where droids are like people. It’s got to be a computer, nothing more.”

“You didn’t see it while it was awake Cal. There isn’t just a machine in there,” Landon said, holstering the taser and putting the notepad away. “Its eyes... there was emotion in there, and life, not just a computer. And if it can’t sign, that don't mean it can’t write.”

Jacobs threw his hands up, just like the automaton had. “Fine, cuff it and put it in the cruiser. Once backup arrives to deal with the accident, you can take it to the station and wait for it to wake up. I still think it’s a bad idea though.”

“You won’t ride along? It’s your cruiser.”

“No thank you. If you want to take the risk that’s your call Lando, but I ain’t riding in a metal box with that thing for over half an hour. Besides, there’s still work to do here.”

Landon, rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Then, thank you, and you may be right, but, I have to try.”

Jacobs smirked and brushed Landon’s hand aside, “Let’s see if you’re right yet again. Question it if you want, I’ll follow up on the Fauce investigation here.”

Landon nodded and reached for his radio, switching it on, “Sgt. Landon to Capt. Bushman, 10-26, I have the driver of the vehicle crashed on Cornrow in custody, and you ain’t gonna believe what it is.”

“10-4 This is Bushman, go ahead.”

“The driver is an automaton, a machine.”

“...10-9.”

“The suspect is a machine, a robot or droid of some sort. My partner will corroborate.”

“10-19, get to the station now, don’t wait for backup, and don’t talk about it on this channel again. If you’re pulling my leg, I’m going to reassign you to Yellowfield’s detail with all of them annoying schoolkids.”

“10-4, on my way.”

Landon stooped and grunted, lifting the automaton partially from the pavement, sitting it upright. First, Landon tried to pull the automaton’s hands behind its back, but the joints were stiff and the clavicle unbending. A few more tugs confirmed it; the thing’s hands could not be cuffed back there. Fantastic. Pulling the thing’s hands to rest in their lap, Landon cuffed them and picked up the bot. It was lighter than he anticipated; no heavier than a grown man. But still heavy enough to cause Landon to grunt as he put the unconscious automaton in the backseat of his cruiser, Jacobs holding the door open for him. Thing had to be at least a hundred-and-fifty pounds.

Getting in the driver seat, Landon began to pull the door closed when Jacobs grabbed it.

“I’ll let the others know that you have the Cap’s permission to leave the scene, and I’ll head up to the address after the wreck is cleared and radio you if I find anything.”

“Thanks Cal,” Landon said, “Hope you find the kid.”

“Me too. And Lando?”

“What?”

“Don’t do anything stupid, okay? And if it tries anything, tase it again.”

Landon half-smiled and clapped his partner on the shoulder. “10-4, old friend.”

Jacobs returned the gesture and then closed the car door. Landon adjusted the rearview mirror, blue and red flashing lights approaching in the darkness. He angled it down to look at the automaton. It was still inactive. Landon put the car in drive and drove back towards the station, passing each light and siren as they went by to assist Jacobs. Glancing again at the mirror, Landon watched the automaton in brief glimpses as he drove.

Let’s hope my gut is right about you too, robot. Let’s hope sparing you was the right call.