So it was. Mika and Jeong-guk were an engaged couple who had set their wedding date for May 14, 2034. Mika, a social-affairs reporter, was a frequent visitor at police stations, and she had known Jang Jeong-guk, Chief of the Intelligent Crimes Unit, since his days as a junior detective. Jang Jeong-guk had been drawn to the spirited and righteous Yoon Mika, and now and then they would tip back a glass of soju over a bowl of gukbap and share the small things of daily life. As a few years went by, that turned into a romance that wasn’t quite a romance, and before they knew it, into a promise of marriage.
The two of them were so busy that they couldn’t see each other often, but precisely for that reason their love for each other ran all the deeper. So they made a promise — at the very least, to live in the same house — and started living together. Five years from now, after both of them retired, they would move down to the countryside and, “we’ll have about five kids — that’s our way of rebelling against population decline!” — laughing, they hooked their pinkies. Jeong-guk and Mika had both grown utterly disillusioned with humanity through the brutal grind of working life, but for that very reason — turning the disillusionment inside out — they nursed a vague hope: that maybe, if “we have lots of children,” the world might become a little better. If there were no hope that the world might improve, who would ever bother having children? But the city kept producing one incident after another, and the two of them, each consumed by their own work, didn’t even have time for a deep conversation despite living under the same roof. Naturally, they didn’t touch each other’s work either. And then —
Detective Jang Jeong-guk had only belatedly learned that Reporter Yoon Mika had gone alone to meet Jo In-cheol, head of Terra Motors Union No. 1, and — judging it dangerous — had tracked her all the way here. There was even intelligence that Jo In-cheol was no mere union leader: he was colluding with Chairman Seo Dongjin of Terra Group to traffic weapons on the black market. Detective Jang knew the situation was urgent, but he couldn’t drag colleagues into a danger he himself didn’t fully understand. And yet he hadn’t come alone. Even though he hadn’t called for him, behind Detective Jang — eeeek — thump — police robot Pluto revealed himself.
“Drop your weapons and lie face down on the ground. Civilian possession of firearms is illegal. If you fire upon me, I am authorized to return fire. This is a warning. Drop your weapons and lie face down on the ground.”
Pluto’s thigh opened with a clack, and a long-barreled Beretta M93R machine pistol slid out. Pluto immediately drew the gun and leveled it at them. But Jo In-cheol wasn’t intimidated in the least.
“A Chief of the Intelligent Crimes Unit and a police robot? How terrifying — whatever shall we do?”
Jo In-cheol laughed, and his men laughed along.
“But here’s the thing. We’re not the slightest bit afraid of you.”
The moment Jo In-cheol finished his sentence, he opened fire on Pluto with an EMK-246 electric machine gun. Ratatatatata — Then his men joined in all at once, unloading their electric machine guns on Pluto. Pluto returned fire instantly. Tata — tata —
In that opening, Jeong-guk lunged in to shield Mika, firing his old revolver in counterattack. Police robot Pluto rotated and moved, taking the electric machine gun rounds in their place to protect them. Two of Jo In-cheol’s Underdog Trackers were hit in the legs by Pluto’s Beretta machine pistol and went down.
Then it happened. From the rooftop of the building across the way, an 84mm Carl Gustaf M4 recoilless rifle was fired. Whooooosh — kaboom! The HEAT warhead struck the chest armor plate of police robot Pluto dead-on. Krakakakakak — Pluto’s chest split inward in a vast, jagged crack. The right shoulder drive assembly tore halfway off, hanging loose, and through the fissure white smoke and blue sparks burst out. Pluto was hurled ten meters back, slammed into the wall — koong — and collapsed. His right leg twitched once, then stopped dead. The man who had fired the recoilless waved his hand at them as if showing off. Jo In-cheol gave him only a nod. Then he glanced at his watch and said, dispassionately, to Jeong-guk and Mika:
“The wedding’s going to be a funeral.”
“No!”
Jeong-guk shouted and threw himself in front of Mika, but it made no difference. Tatatatatatatatat — a torrent of electric machine gun fire from Jo In-cheol and his one remaining Underdog Tracker poured down on Jeong-guk and Mika. Mika’s right arm was torn off, then her left arm. Jeong-guk’s left leg was torn off, then his right arm. A relentless storm of bullets rained on the righteous social-affairs reporter and the Chief of the Intelligent Crimes Unit. Thump — the two of them collapsed onto the ground just like that.
The remaining Underdog Tracker checked his watch.
“We have to clear out within a minute. The drones will be on us as soon as they pick up the gunfire.”
Jo In-cheol opened fire on his two Underdog Trackers — wounded in the legs and groaning on the ground — tatatatata. They died instantly.
“Let’s go.”
Jo In-cheol turned and walked off the rooftop without a glance. Eeeek — police robot Pluto, who had collapsed, rose again. Chest armor plate caved inward, right shoulder drooping heavy on one side. But the core was alive. Pluto charged over — koong koong koong — and immediately scanned Jeong-guk and Mika. Respiration arrest confirmed. Cardiac arrest confirmed. The result was devastating. Any normal human would have called it and given up. And yet — Pluto’s rear-head LED sensor blinked briefly in violet, twice, instead of its usual blue. It was a color that appeared in no manual, in no official protocol.
Pluto’s left forearm hissed open with a clack, and two metal-rod-shaped emergency syringes slid out. Without hesitation, Pluto drove the two emergency syringes straight down into Jeong-guk’s and Mika’s hearts. Pock — schwoop — epinephrine was injected mercilessly, directly into both their hearts. The hearts of the two — limbs torn off — convulsed and reflexively beat again, koong — koongg —. But they were certain to stop again, soon. Pluto now lifted them up, one in each arm, and broke into a run. Kookoongoong — bang! Leaping down from the rooftop, Pluto landed in the Humvee he had ridden in on. Vroooom — the Humvee tore off at terrifying speed.
Mika, watching the footage, took the impact full force and stumbled back.
“That’s how I died?”
Mika’s face went pale. Pluto told her plainly.
“Reporter Mika, head of Shocking News. You were killed on April 23, 2034, by Jo In-cheol and his men, gunned down with EMK-246 electric machine guns. Together with your fiancé, Jeong-guk.”
Mika took an unsteady step back.
“You’re lying.”
Leave a Reply