Murder Drones: New Models

*RCNC9* The center was buzzing with activity. Drones rushed back and forth, some even sprinting to keep up. Ever since the crack appeared in the dome, peace had abandoned this place. Thad’s departure for vacation had made things worse—no one wanted to descend to the core with N. They were afraid something might go wrong: the cable could snap, the shielding could fail, and so on. N had to go down alone. Everyone was hurrying, scrambling, bumping into each other with stacks of reports, rushing to get signatures and then back to generate more stacks. *RCNC9 (Khan’s office)* Worker: Here you go, sir! More signatures! Khan: Ugh! If only you knew how exhausted I am from signing all this. It looks easy, but dragging a marker all day wears you out. Worker: Oh… well, if you’re tired, we can carry the papers— Khan: No, no! Uzi’s job is tougher than mine. I just sign things—she has to approve everything over the phone. --- RCNC9 (Uzi’s office) Uzi (on phone 1): NO! DO NOT REPLACE THE FILTER—I’M REPEATING MYSELF AGAIN!! Uzi, tangled in phone cords, was signing documents while juggling calls. Uzi (on phone 1): ARE YOU DEGENERATES OR WHAT?! I SAID AGAIN— Caller #1 (on phone 1): Okay, okay… We get it… Sorry. Uzi (on phone 2): Let’s reinstall the energy feed system. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?! YOU DIDN’T EVEN FINISH THE SCREW SET— --- RCNC9 (hallway outside Uzi’s office) A Disassembly Drone in a black vest with wide sleeves stood nearby. Her shorts were mismatched—one leg draped like a harem pant, the other short like hotpants. The vest and shorts were cinched with a black belt. Her voluminous hair was tied into a single ponytail, straight at the top, curling wildly at the ends. She wore thigh-high stockings with white crosses nearly reaching her stiletto tips. #2: Whoa! That was a line! Two Disassembly Drones stood by the door, holding notebooks and pens. They were Uzi fangirls—spreading gossip and idolizing her, hoping to be just like her. --- RCNC9 (Uzi’s office) Uzi (on her phone): Yes, everything’s correct so far. Izun (on phone): Okay, how high should I set it? Uzi (on phone 3): 1200 degrees. Izun (on phone): How much?! Our stove doesn’t go that high! Uzi (on her phone): That wasn’t for you. 13 degrees is fine. And why are you making pancakes anyway? Izun (on phone): Well, you’re at work and I’m hungry. Uzi (on her phone): Fine. JUST BE CAREFUL! Don’t burn the house down like three years ago. Izun (on phone): Got it. Despite holding a high-ranking position as one of the four company directors, Uzi couldn’t afford to relax. She was being pushed to the limit—but she held firm. Mostly because N was working nonstop too. Not that his job was dusty—it was just flat-out dangerous. And he handled it like it was nothing. --- RCNC9 (hallway outside Uzi’s office) Another Disassembly Drone stood nearby, wearing a cropped coat with cut-out shoulders. A belt with yellow and black diagonal stripes wrapped her waist. Her medium-length hair was tied into a shoulder-length ponytail. #3: She’s gone quiet. #2: That’s weird. #3: Oh! Someone’s coming! Let’s go! #2: Where?! #3: I dunno—just thought of something! Let’s crawl into the ventilation shaft! It runs right above her office, and the sound carries well. --- RCNC9 (Uzi’s office) Uzi sat staring out the night-lit window. The calls had stopped, leaving only the distant hum of cars under streetlights. In this peaceful moment, her phone buzzed—an incoming call. Uzi (on her phone): Hello? Hey. I told him already. Yes, that’s correct. The office door opened—Khan stepped in. Uzi (on her phone): Okay, V, I’ll call you back. hangs up Khan: Sooo, Uzi. What are you up to? Uzi: Trying to sort through all these documents. Why aren’t you working? Khan: I’ve thought long and hard—and decided now’s the time. Moments later, N entered the office. Khan locked the door behind him. Uzi and N sat across from Khan, confused. Khan: Uzi probably already knows what this is about. N: Uzi? Uzi: No idea. Wait… you want to continue that talk about Izun? Khan: Bingo. So—why the lifelong house arrest? Uzi: Well, you see… N: Don’t stress, Uzi. I’ll explain. It was my idea… Khan: What?! Yours?! I didn’t expect that from you, N. Why? N: It felt like dragging claws across the core. But you know what happened last year—and how he looked before that. Khan: Sure, last year we were on the brink of civil war because of him. But he’s a kid—he didn’t know what he was doing. And you kept him locked up even before that. Why? N (exhales): It’s hard to explain. But you’ll understand once you hear the truth. --- Inside the ventilation shaft #2 (whispering): Move over! I can’t see anything! #3 (whispering): Who are they talking about? Who’s Izun? #2 (whispering): How should I know?! Honestly, I’m more curious what Director Khan wants from Miss Uzi. #3 (whispering): Right! And what’s N doing here? Wait—maybe they’re on a date? #2 (whispering): A date? With all three of them?! #3 (whispering): Not all three—just Miss Uzi and N! #2 (whispering): Why do you think that? #3 (whispering): Director Khan is Uzi’s dad, right? #2 (whispering): Right. #3 (whispering): So Uzi’s introducing N to her father—as her boyfriend! #2 (whispering): Spit it out! We’ve been trying so hard—well, I have—to impress N, and you’re ruining it! But… they do look good together. #3 (whispering): Totally. N’s so untouchable—he never looks at anyone as more than a colleague or friend. But with Uzi, even if you don’t look closely, he acts… different. She’s the perfect girl—she even charmed him. #2 (whispering): It’s kinda weird though—a Worker and a Disassembly Drone. Society would tear that apart. #3 (whispering): Shhh! I can’t hear anything. --- Khan: So, N. What are you waiting for? N: Just figuring out how to start. When the war with Humans ended and they left us alone, the Supercomputer was destroyed—erased from all Drone systems. But when Izun was born, he was… different. Even though he’s a Hybrid—and not the first, technically the second—he still stood out. Izun didn’t fit into the third or fourth Drone types. He was something else. Even when you first saw him, you said something felt off. Khan: Yeah. I remember that. N: Right. Since Uzi had the Supercomputer and was a Zombie Drone, we suspected Izun inherited the program. He might be the last carrier. --- Inside the vent #2 (whispering): What?! “Inherited”? Wait—is Izun their… son? What kind of nonsense is this?! #3 (whispering): I don’t think it’s nonsense. I was thinking about his name—and I figured something out. #2 (whispering): What? #3 (whispering): Take the name “Izun” and reverse it. #2 (whispering): Okay… that’s “Nuzi,” I guess. #3 (whispering): Right. Now separate the first letter—and read the rest. #2 (whispering): That gives us… “N” and “Uzi”… shouts WAIT—WHAT?! Uzi: What was that noise?! Everyone looked up at the vent grate. #3 (whispering): Quiet! The two Disassembly Drones, hearing the creak of the vent cover, braced for the worst. Khan: WATCH OUT—THE GRATE’S FALLING! Everyone jumped back in different directions. The Disassembly Drones tumbled out of the ventilation shaft. Uzi: WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?! #3: We’re so sorry! #2: We didn’t mean to ruin your date! Uzi: What date? #2: Yours and Eni—uh, I mean N! N: There was no date. #2: Oh come on… nervously If things work out, will you invite us to the wedding? #3: WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?! I-I mean, maybe it’s just a business meeting… right? Khan: That’s exactly right. We’re discussing something very important. Now please return to your workstations. #2 and #3: Yes, Director Khan! N: By the way… did you hear our conversation? #3 (anxiously): M-maybe just a little… #2 (whispering): Shhh! Uzi: I’ll walk them out. Uzi approached and gently wrapped her arms around both of them, guiding them toward the door. #2: Miss Uzi, please don’t hit us! #3: Just cut our pay, but don’t fire us! Please! Uzi: Relax. I’m not going to hit or fire anyone. Just… if you heard anything, please don’t repeat it. #2 and #3: OKAY! WE’RE TWO GRAVES! As they reached the door, Uzi turned and added: Uzi: And for the record, N and I don’t need dates—because we’ve been married for nine years. But don’t tell anyone. Got it? The Disassembly Drones, stunned, nodded silently. Uzi: Good. The Worker closed the door behind them, leaving the Drones in total shock. ***INTERESTING FACT: No one outside of N and Uzi’s close circle knows they’re married. This secrecy exists because society—especially Worker Drones—still hasn’t fully accepted Disassembly Drones. Cross-type unions are rare and typically only possible for wealthy families who can afford loyal doctors in case of childbirth. That’s why Hybrid Drones are far fewer in number than either Workers or Disassembly units. Their very existence symbolizes reconciliation between once-hostile Drone types—an uncomfortable truth that many from older generations refuse to accept or simply cannot process*** N: That’s exactly why we haven’t let Izun out—because of the risk he might become a Zombie Drone. Khan: I understand. But this can’t go on forever. He’s already eight, and soon he’ll be a teenager—probably just as rebellious as his mother. Uzi: Dad! Khan: I’m serious! You were calm until about thirteen. Then at fourteen, you completely lost it. Uzi: That’s partly your fault! N: All right, let’s not reopen old wounds. That only leads to new ones. But the question about Izun remains open. When do we let him out? And who’ll be with him while Uzi and I are working all day? I know what loneliness feels like—and I don’t want that for our son. Khan: Absolutely. Uzi: Let’s get back to work and leave the thinking for tomorrow. I need to go home in the morning anyway—to check if he cleaned the basement. Everyone agreed with Uzi, and they decided to revisit the issue the next day.