Battle for Mech City

By Brian Bakos

Winston Horvath regains control of Mech City after returning from his remake on the West Coast. Avoiding the mistakes which undermined his earlier administration, he brings order and prosperity to the residents. But his success is soon threatened. Violent religious fanatics are approaching with a robotic army. A disgruntled Dr. Jerry Che is also coming; he feels cheated and exploited by his creation, Star Power, and plans to kidnap her. Meanwhile, Star's out of control sexuality is causing difficulties with various robotic and human partners. On the West Coast, events spiral out of control. The future certainly isn't what it used to be. The fun continues!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brian Bakos
• Release date: Aug 10, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370639540

Brian Bakos

I like to write and travel. I'm from the Detroit area originally and try to see other places as often as possible. My most recent travels have been to China, Ecuador, and Belize. Am thinking of my next destination. It's wonderful how travel inspires the writing process. Attended Michigan State University and Alma College.Not much more than that. Anything else I have to say comes out in my books. If you really want to know more, please contact me through my website, https://www.theb2.net/. May life bring you many blessings!

Book preview

What Happened Before

Editor’s note

This is book 3 of the Robot Horizon series. If you haven’t read books 1 and 2—Return to Mech City and Expedition Westward—please see Other Books in the Series. You’ll enjoy the following story better if you know what happened before.

Thanks so much!

One: Pilgrims’ Return

1. Bright New World

The semi-truck banged over some speed bumps, jostling the two robots snuggled inside the trailer.

A radiant smile crossed Star Power’s face. Time for a quickie!

Awaken, my love. She reached behind Winston’s head and gently flicked his activation switch. We’re home at last.

Winston began emerging into active mode. Star looked on eagerly as start-up routines flashed through his electronic mind and mobility returned to his limbs. His optical sensors popped open. He glanced about the heavily loaded trailer, baffled.

W-where am I?

You’re with me, Star said. What else matters?

Winston smiled, and contentment flooded his face. How long have I been out, Star?

Over two days. Dr. Rackenfauz said you needed time to absorb all the new data you’ve received.

Winston stretched his limbs. Yes, I do feel a lot better organized.

Star nestled close to him under the tarp. She was still not used to his radically changed appearance—his ultra-realistic ‘Nordic Avenger’ epidermis modeled after Ivan Drago from the Rocky IV movie. It bore no resemblance to the blue monotone exterior he’d once had.

She loved his new look. Star presented a luscious blend of Asian, African, and European features—almond eyes, dark skin, luxurious black hair.

Do you remember what happened before you went under? she asked coyly. Meaning their fantastic coupling as they moved along the road from the West Coast—the heaven on earth sexual fireworks she’d promised.

Winston’s smile broadened. Of course. How could I forget?

Ooo! I love it when you talk like that. She stood and unbuttoned her blouse, reveling in the hungry look on Winston’s face. We have time for a quickie before we get to the Robotics Development Institute.

Winston sat bolt upright. All trace of lust vanished, replaced by a more pressing enthusiasm. We’re in Mech City?

Yes, we crossed the speed bumps on the western outskirts.

Winston leaped to his feet and groped for the intercom mounted on the wall. He jabbed the Call button with a trembling finger.

Dr. Rackenfauz?

Hello, young fellow, a high-pitched, crackly voice replied from the driver’s seat in the cab. Welcome back to the world.

Could we stop a minute? I want to get out.

Okay.

The truck braked abruptly, nearly pitching the robots over. Winston raced to the door and flung it open. Dull sunlight illuminated his bristling blond hair and yellow jumpsuit. Star looked on, tight-lipped. She stood naked to the waist, but Winston seemed oblivious to her charms.

Isn’t this marvelous, Star? he said.

Yes… marvelous.

I never expected to see Mech City again. I feel reborn! Or, at least, re-manufactured. Winston jumped down onto the road surface.

Star reluctantly put her blouse back on. That’s my guy, alright, the original Romeo.

Winston moved past the truck’s cabin, waving happily at Iridium and Dr. Rackenfauz within.

Iridium’s ferocious wolf face broke into something resembling a smile. Winston seems to be in perfect working order.

Yes, Rackenfauz agreed. Jerry Che sure knows his stuff.

Winston trotted some distance ahead and paused in the middle of the road. He spread his arms wide, taking in the cityscape with its multi-story commercial and residential buildings.

Hail bright new world! I have returned!

He rose on tiptoe, getting as near as possible to the heavens. He closed his optical sensors and relished the dim sunlight warming his face. Never had the sweetness of existence been more intense. All his previous life had been a mere prelude to this glorious moment.

Star exited the trailer and moved to the driver’s side of the cab. Her blouse was not fully buttoned, displaying quite a boob shot, but she knew Dr. Rackenfauz wouldn’t care.

Looks like Winston is feeling his oats, Rackenfauz said.

Right. Star finished the buttoning job.

Things remained in this state for over a minute before Iridium’s superior optics detected something in the sky.

Looks like we’ve got company, he said.

A few more seconds passed before Star could make out the swarm of approaching mech birds.

That must be the flock that came with us to Pickle Lake Castle, she said. I’m glad they made it back safely.

Yes, Rackenfauz said with fatherly pride. I built them strong, didn’t I?

As the flock drew closer, Star’s sense of well-being unraveled. Something was wrong—the birds were too frenetic, angry. They seemed to churn amid a cloud of hatred.

They appear to be upset about something, Iridium said.

Terror bolted through Star. Winston!

Ahead on the road, amid his reverie, Winston dimly perceived a beckoning voice.

Get back here, now! Star shouted.

Winston opened his eyes as the attack squadron descended upon him. A scream gagged short in his vocal unit.

Ahh-gh!

He hurtled upward, struggling amid a cloud of screeching mech birds.

Look at that, Papa! Iridium said. Winston is getting up in the world.

Do something! Star pleaded.

Of course. Rackenfauz groped through the jumble of items piled behind the seats. Where’d I put that translator thingie?

Please hurry!

The birds held Winston spread-eagled and dive-bombed a building with him, pulling up moments before hitting its clock tower. In human times, the building housed an investment firm. Its marketing slogan still adorned the front:

Aim High!

Winston howled with terror above the bright new world: Hoooooo! Wahoooo!

He’s having quite a time, Iridium said. Is this the usual way those birds welcome you home?

Rackenfauz brandished a long tube, narrow at one end and flared at the other. Ah, here it is.

He left the cab, his white lab coat fluttering behind like half-baked angel wings. He brought the wide end of the communicator to his mouth, hesitated, then lowered it.

Wait a second. He reached inside the cab and pulled down the combat shotgun from its mounting. Better keep this close, just in case.

He pointed the translator skyward and shouted into it. That’s enough! Put him down!

His words emerged as avian chirps and twitters from the narrow end of the tube. The birds interrupted their Kamikaze dives and entered a holding pattern around the clock tower.

I seem to have gotten their attention, Rackenfauz said.

He shouted into the translator device. Cut the fun and games already!

In response, a cacophony of chirps blasted from the flock.

I can’t understand you! Come here and talk to me!

The birds swooped down, Winston’s terrified face leading the charge. Dr. Rackenfauz held his ground, shotgun at the ready.

Don’t shoot! Winston and Star cried in unison.

At the last second, the birds altered course toward a dirt median. They dropped Winston a short distance above it. He hit the ground, stirring up a dust cloud as he somersaulted to a stop.

Oh, Winston! Star ran toward the stricken figure sprawled on the ground.

The birds landed beside the truck in a large, black heap. They began rising like an erupting volcano, forming themselves into a single composite humanoid form. Terrible crunching noises accompanied this transformation, like a giant crinkling a sheet of steel in its hands. An angry face stared out of the feathered hulk.

Holy Patoozas! Iridium exclaimed. I heard they could do that, but seeing is believing.

2. Old Acquaintance Brought to Mind

"Ohhh, Winston! Star moaned. Are you all right?"

I think so. That was some welcoming committee. He grasped Star’s hand. I’m sorry. I should have stayed with you in the van for that quickie.

Let’s go back before something else happens. Star helped Winston to his feet and examined his nicked epidermis. The damage doesn’t look too bad. It should heal up okay.

You go inside the trailer, Winston said. I’d better stay out here and see what’s going on.

Fat chance of that. We’re in this together, remember?

Yes, I remember.

He took her hand. They returned to the truck, where Dr. Rackenfauz engaged the bird creature in a heated discussion. Iridium stood between the two parties, using his large, wolfish frame as a buffer.

Although Star had seen the composite bird creature more than once before, it still gave her the creeps. That thing is bad news, like one of those old horror movies.

What are they… it saying? she asked.

Rackenfauz lowered his communicator. They’re upset about Mayor Ajax. They found him deactivated at the REX Hotel.

Is he badly damaged? Winston asked with alarm. "I mean, he’s not permanently deactivated, is he?"

I’d have to inspect him to determine that, Rackenfauz said. They’re demanding I do so immediately.

He stroked the shotgun and patted the reassuring bulge of hand grenades in his coat pocket. These mech birds are getting very aggressive. Maybe it’s time they got some buckshot therapy.

Don’t do that! Winston said. Please, go and help Ajax.

Rackenfauz pondered the request with a wry smile. Very well, young fellow. I’ll go to the REX.

Winston flashed a relieved smile. Thank you, Professor.

There’s one condition. Rackenfauz leaned in close. They insist on taking you along as a hostage.

Winston gulped electronically. Okay, I’ll risk it.

No! Star protested.

It’s the only way, Winston said. You know how uncompromising those birds can be.

Ohh. A tear ran down Star’s cheek in an almost human simulation.

Rackenfauz spoke into the translator. The bird creature blasted out a chirp storm in reply.

Okay, I got it! No need to shout, Rackenfauz said.

The creature broke into its components and fluttered about in a bird tornado. They seized Winston and bore him aloft toward the REX Hotel.

What was that last thing they said? Iridium asked.

If we can’t revive Ajax, they’ll dump Winston into the bomb crater.

Oh! Star gasped.

Rackenfauz shrugged. Let’s go to the REX. Everybody into the truck.

* * *

As he hung precariously outside the window five stories above street level, Winston had a ‘bird’s eye view’ of the events in Ajax’s hotel room. He glanced up at the phalanx of birds holding him aloft.

You guys remember we’re friends, okay? he said with a certain amount of insecurity.

The birds did not seem particularly agreeable.

Dr. Rackenfauz busied himself examining Ajax’s motionless form slumped against the wall, paying particular attention to the neck area. Compared to the massive warrior robot, the professor appeared even scrawnier and less significant than usual with his bald head and fussy mannerisms.

Most peculiar. Rackenfauz held up a broken metal coat hook. It appears Ajax deactivated himself. He jammed his switch against this to accomplish the feat.

Why would he do that? Star asked.

Maybe it was the closest thing to suicide he could get, Winston said. His programming taboo would not allow him to jump off the roof.

A violent tremor ran through the birds supporting Winston at the mention of suicide.

H-hold on, please! Winston cried.

Good grief! he thought frantically. How much human language can these brutes understand?

Star rushed to the window and cooed softly to the birds. They calmed somewhat.

The switch is broken, Dr. Rackenfauz said. "It’s jammed in the Off position. There appears to be no further damage, however."

He brushed his hands together professionally and stepped away from the inert robot. A simple matter. We can replace the switch and have him reactivated in no time.

Star clapped her hands. Oh, goody!

Nice work, Papa, Iridium said.

Rackenfauz took a modest bow. Winston did not share the general enthusiasm.

Uh, Professor. He cast a worried look on the avian mass holding him by the fabric of his yellow jumpsuit. I’m not sure that would be the best idea.

Why not?

If Ajax was in such despair as to attempt a form of... you know—then wouldn’t jarring him back to active awareness be a traumatic, perhaps highly destructive, experience for him?

Hmmm, Rackenfauz said, I see what you mean.

It can be assumed that Ajax endured grave difficulties performing his duties as mayor. The political situation in Mech City must be pretty delicate.

Rackenfauz turned an amused smile toward Winston. "Actually, young fellow, I’d say you’re the one in a delicate situation."

As if in accord with this assessment, Winston’s jumpsuit suddenly ripped away from the birds’ talons.

Winston! Star cried as he dropped from view.

This is it! Winston’s frantic brain screamed. I’m gonna meet the Great Technician in the Sky!

The bricks of the hotel’s wall blurred past his vision. He could almost feel the impact of unforgiving concrete.

Fortunately, the mech birds swooped down and halted his descent. They formed loops with their bodies and pulled Winston up by the armpits. He bobbed back up to window elevation.

I-I’m all right, he said, for now, anyway.

Star and Iridium sagged with relief. Rackenfauz did not look particularly concerned.

Even after a long association, Winston was still shocked by Rackenfauz’s nihilistic attitudes and caustic language. The professor seemed almost disappointed that he’d survived the fall.

Winston gathered his remaining wits. Would it not be advisable to delay Ajax’s reactivation until we’ve had time to assess the state of affairs in Mech City?

Good point, young fellow. Rackenfauz nodded thoughtfully.

Once we know the true circumstances, we can determine the best method for bringing Ajax online.

Winston knew his suggestion constituted the best approach, though a less worthy portion of his mind entertained different ideas. If Ajax is kaput, that means I’ll be mayor again! He glanced at his bird escort. Unless they toss me in the bomb crater first.

Rackenfauz stroked his beard-stubbled chin. You’re probably right, young fellow. I’ll communicate this to our avian friends.

He spoke through the translator device; a chorus of cheeps replied.

What did they say? Winston asked.

They said they’ll trust you for now, but if you don’t bring Ajax around soon, you’re one deep-fried robot.

Oh! Star gasped again.

That’s a very… forthright response, Winston said.

In any case, this is the end of my involvement, Rackenfauz said. From now on, you robots are on your own with your ‘delicate politics.’ Jack and Quincy can do the switch repair.

If I might make a final request, Winston said. Could you ask the birds to set me down?

Rackenfauz grinned maliciously. Of course.

Gently, I mean.

3. Robotics Development Institute (RDI)

Winston’s return to earth had not been gentle, though he couldn’t complain. He was still in one piece and snuggled up close to Star in the truck cab. The quickie would have to wait for a more opportune time.

They drove through the gate of the RDI on the east end of town and approached the expansive main building, three stories high and clad in marble. A small coterie of mech birds accompanied them from the REX.

Here we are, back where it all began. Star squeezed his hand. We’ve made a lot of history in a short time, haven’t we?

Yes.

She kissed his cheek. Let’s make some more together.

Dr. Rackenfauz parked in the curved front drive and shut off the engine. Let’s see what’s going on in there.

Everyone scrambled out of the truck and approached the main building. As always, its gleaming white exterior reminded Winston of a human mausoleum. Dr. Rackenfauz led the way, toting his full armory. In addition to the little submachine gun he wore under his lab coat and the pockets full of grenades, he toted an assault rifle slung over his shoulder and the shotgun cradled in one arm.

That’s a lot of weight, Papa, Iridium said.

I need to keep everything close until I know the situation, Rackenfauz said.

Perhaps we can carry some of it for you, Iridium suggested.

That’s not a good idea, Winston said. Trust me on that, Iri.

Rackenfauz chuckled. All robots are hardwired against having any contact with firearms or ammo. Not even the Che syndrome has affected that.

My memory dumps talked about the Che syndrome, Iridium said. Robotic life forms who lose their purpose for existence turn psycho, right?

Rackenfauz nodded. That’s putting it mildly.

A new plague of mech birds hurtled toward them when they entered the lobby. Rackenfauz lifted the communicator in his free hand.

Get the hell out of here! he yelled into it. Give me room to breathe!

The birds hovered about in confusion. The contingent from the REX Hotel flew in and joined their compatriots in a swirling conference. Soon, all the birds departed en masse through the plasti-glass doors.

Good riddance, Rackenfauz muttered.

How many of those things are there, Papa? Iridium asked.

I made about 5,000 back when I was half nuts.

Only half nuts? Winston thought uncharitably.

He added aloud: Of that number, approximately one quarter were destroyed in the battle against Fascista Ultimo. The rest were deactivated until Ajax loaned us a thousand for our trip to the West Coast. That thousand returned to Mech City after… the old Iridium was destroyed. They would have been the ones who discovered Ajax at the REX.

Seems like more than a thousand now, the new Iridium said.

Yes, they must have reactivated their comrades.

That’s way too many, in my opinion.

They have their uses. Winston examined the tears on his jumpsuit. They can be hard on one’s wardrobe, however.

A torrent of memories flooded Winston’s brain unit as they proceeded toward the main workshop. This corridor had witnessed many key events in his existence: The stroll with the Master and Little Charles on the day of his initial activation; his grinding return three years later seeking repairs; the surge of Roboto Fascists heading out to conquer the city.

Ah, if these floor tiles could talk.

Dr. Rackenfauz pushed against the double doors of the main workshop. Winston, Star, and Iridium kept a discreet distance in consideration of the professor’s bristling weaponry. The doors were locked tight.

What the hell? Rackenfauz rapped his knuckles against the thick plasti-glass window. Open up!

A face appeared at the window—Quincy, the repair bot.

Dr. Rackenfauz? his muffled voice inquired.

Yes, yes, it’s me.

Are they gone? Quincy asked.

Who?

The mech birds.

Of course, they’re gone! Rackenfauz brandished the shotgun. Now open up, or do I have to blast my way in?

Quincy’s optical sensors widened. Just a moment, please.

Sounds of heavy objects being dragged away could be heard, then the locking mechanism released. Quincy swung the doors open and bowed deferentially. Jack, the second repair bot, joined him. They were both slender, ‘metal man’ type machines clad in white lab coats. Although they lacked the Humanite characteristics of Winston and Star, they possessed advanced brain units and highly developed technical skills.

Welcome back, Dr. Rackenfauz, they said.

Yes, quite. Rackenfauz eyed the tool boxes, analytical equipment, and other weighty items that had barricaded the doors. Not exactly the red carpet treatment, is it?

Please forgive the clutter. Quincy moved back. Come in, Professor.

Dr. Rackenfauz stepped inside the workshop, lumbering under the weight of his arsenal. The doors swung shut behind him.

Should we go in, too? Star asked.

In a bit, Winston said. Let Dr. Rackenfauz establish dominance first.

That’s important to him, isn’t it?

Yes. Besides, the repair bots won’t recognize me or Iridium at first. Let them have one shock at a time.

A few minutes later, Star led the three of them into the workshop. Dr. Rackenfauz was standing in the middle of the vast room conferring with Jack and Quincy. The construction bots, Jimmy and Sam, stood off to the side observing. Most of the workbenches contained damaged and deactivated robots—casualties from the great Battle of Heroes’ Square, which had toppled the Roboto Fascist dictatorship.

Star! the robots cried in unison.

Hello, Boys! Star replied with a jaunty wave. Good to see you all again.

Their pleasure vanished when they spotted Iridium.

What’s the matter? Star asked.

W-we don’t exactly get along too well with mech wolves, Quincy said.

It’s only Iridium. Say hello, Iri.

Hi, everybody, Iridium said. Thought I’d stop by.

Quincy and Jack approached cautiously.

You sound like Iridium, Jack said. You sure don’t look like him, though.

I’m a remake. The new, unimproved version, you might say.

It’s rather complicated, Star said. Iri has a new brain and body; otherwise, he’s just the same.

Oh, I get it, Quincy said, sort of.

He has the same spirit. Once he gets his new coat, you’ll hardly know the difference.

Jimmy and Sam approached. They were both large construction model robots of prodigious strength, angular and rugged. Winston noticed that Jimmy, the broader of the two, wore the mech wolf communicator strapped to his wrist. A thrill of excitement ran through Winston’s circuits.

Good to see you again, Iridium, Jimmy said.

You’re… Jimmy, the construction foreman, right? Iridium asked.

That’s correct. And this is Sam, my assistant foreman.

Nice to see you, pal, Iridium said.

Jimmy turned questioning eyes toward Winston, then addressed Star in a low voice: Who’s the stranger?

That’s Winston, Star said. He’s new and improved.

Confusion shot over Jimmy’s mechanistic face. His brow managed a crinkle.

Yes, it’s me, Jimmy. Winston pointed to his new face and bristling blond hair. I’ve had quite a remake, as you can see.

Joy burst over Jimmy’s face now. Boss! I knew you’d come back.

He gripped Winston’s hand and wrapped an arm over his shoulders. Despite his newly enhanced physique, Winston was dwarfed by the construction machine.

Everything’s all right now, Jimmy said. The Boss is here.

Welcome home! the other robots cried.

Jimmy released Winston and took a step back. Things went down the tubes without you.

He pulled the mech wolf communicator off his wrist and offered it. Here, I’m sick of toting this thing around.

Winston’s optical sensors widened with avarice. He thrust a trembling hand toward the communicator.

Star clutched his arm in a vise grip and whispered harshly in his ear. "Don’t you dare take that, Winston!"

With an agonizing effort of will, Winston forced his arm back to his side. Give it to Iridium, he rasped. He’s the security chief now.

Sure thing, Boss. Jimmy knelt and strapped the communicator to Iridium’s upper left foreleg. There you go.

Thanks, pal, Iridium said. That’s very snug.

Dr. Rackenfauz’s scratchy voice sounded from across the workshop: Now that the happy reunion’s over, let’s discuss a few matters.

The robots moved off to confer with the professor. Winston put a restraining hand on Iridium’s chest. He leaned down to address the