Little Girl Lost

By Paul Broatch

The fourth industrial revolution was supposed to bring increased prosperity across the globe and free humanity from the drudgery of manual labour. It was to usher in a golden age. Those promises turned out to be lies. The rich got richer, and everyone else got discarded. Who needs humans when you have artificial intelligence to make the decisions, and robots to carry them out? In a matter of years, the human race had become redundant.

In a city controlled by genetically enhanced humans and violent monsters, a police officer desperately searches for a lost little girl.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul Broatch
• Release date: Apr 17, 2020

Paul Broatch

Paul Broatch has had a lifelong fascination with technology and hard science fiction books. He wrote his first novel The Worlds Within in 2014. He started the Red and While Trilogy in 2015 with the City of Lights and The Demon's Hand. He has also written two novellas Running the Rift in 2016 and Little Girl Lost.

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Paul Broatch

Little Girl Lost

Also by Paul Broatch

White: City of Lights (Book 1, Red and White Series)

Red: The Demon’s Hand (Book 2, Red and White Series)

The Worlds Within

Running the Rift

This is a work of fiction. Characters, institutions and organisations mentioned in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously without any intent to describe actual conduct.

Copyright Paul Broatch 2020

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the publisher. Paul Broatch asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Published by Paul Broatch at Smashwords

Table of Contents

Little Girl Lost

Other titles by Paul Broatch

Little Girl Lost

2087: The fourth industrial revolution was supposed to bring increased prosperity across the globe and free humanity from the drudgery of manual labour. It was to usher in a golden age. Those promises turned out to be lies. The rich got richer, and everyone else got discarded. Who needs humans when you have artificial intelligence to make the decisions, and robots to carry them out? In a matter of years, the human race became redundant.

The little girl huddled into her tattered blanket. She wasn’t cold, but the blanket made her feel safe and secure: a thin coat of fabric armour protecting her against a frightening world. Outside, the rain had started up again and was hammering at the window, trying to force its way in.

She looked up at the ceiling, it was black with mould, the paint mottled and peeling like diseased skin. In the far corner it had collapsed, leaving a jagged hole. Water dripped slowly into their room, the heavy droplets hitting the floor with a with a rhythmic plink. To her the hole looked like the maw of a monster trying to devour the room, saliva running from its plaster fangs. When the wind blew, the monster moaned at her. She huddled a little deeper into her blanket.

Her mother came over and handed her a little plate of food: just a few dry crackers.

I’ve had mine, her mother reassured her, giving a little smile. Then her mother turned away and was racked by a violent spasm of coughing, clutching at her chest in pain.

The girl was little more than five, but even she could tell that her mother was seriously ill- her skin was pale, she was sweating, and she shivered all the time.

The girl had seen this before with other people, first they got sick, and then they went away. Her mother called it ‘the flu’.

Her mother managed to stop coughing, took a few deep breaths and then gave her another reassuring smile.

I’m just going to lie down for a while, love. Don’t worry, just finish the food.

The girl looked at the few morsels in her lap and then picked up a cracker and held it out to her mother.

No sweetie. You eat it. Her mother kissed her forehead and then lay down on their small mattress in the corner of the room. Soon she was fast asleep. The girl took her blanket and laid it over the top of her mother to keep her safe.

**

The night was hot and humid, and the breeze was beginning to stir. The air had a static charge in it and the sweet, pungent zing of ozone, an omen of the thunderstorm that was building above them. Sam looked up. A full moon sat low in the sky, unseen, illuminating the thick cloud from behind, and giving it a purple, bruised appearance. It was going to be a bad night.

He was standing behind a big, black iron gate that was one of the entries into the White Zone. The commander had sent his unit to guard the entry, although they were really there to protect the people who were entering a building a hundred metres down the road. It was an exposition by some new artist; some idiot who thought it was daring to have his show so close to the boundary.

The building was lit up like a beacon: cold, white light spilling out into the darkness. The commander was right; the light and music would draw the protestors like moths to a flame; there would be serious trouble.

Look at them! Lou muttered. His partner was standing next to him, staring back towards the building. Sam looked around. Big, black electric cars were lined up in front of the entrance. Tall, striking men helped impossibly thin and beautiful women from the cars and led them inside. They called themselves E’s, which stood for Enhanced: designer people, more-than-perfect specimens of humanity. Genetically flawless, they lived longer, never got sick, were more intelligent and were uniformly beautiful. Sam called them rich drones.

Sam turned away. You should be watching the gate.

Look at her! Lou gasped at a particularly tall woman with long blonde hair down to her waist and wearing a black, figure hugging dress that was barely there.

What would you do with a woman like that? She’d be half a metre taller than you to begin with.

What wouldn’t I do with her? Lou laughed. Sam could hear the lust in his voice. Anyway, why would I need to watch the gate? The bots will see any trouble well before we do. We’re just window dressing.

Sam glanced up at the bot standing behind them. A three-metre-tall, armoured robot that, technically, they were in control of, but in reality, it was virtually autonomous. This one, which he and Lou had named Bob, was painted white to signify it was a police bot rather than military. It didn’t carry the lethal firepower of its military cousins but was still more than a match for any human. Bob stared, unmoving, into the darkness beyond the gate. To him the procession of perfect humans was irrelevant.

Sam looked through the gate. He thought he saw a movement in the shadows and flicked his helmet to infra-red. They were out there all right.

What do you see, Bob? he asked.

"There is a large group of humans massing behind the third building back. I