By David C. Daoust
Skipping out on Hugo Lions was one of the hardest things Mayday had ever done. Not just figuratively worrisome or bothersome; It was literally hard— trying to leave behind his form was no easy task. He figured Hugo would want to continue on the show as is though, maybe replace the data-sphere for a bot that still held to Hugo’s beliefs. It was a part of the show Mayday could not play along with anymore. He lost all faith that humans would ever change. No matter how many shows he ‘saved’.
Mayday skipped out on his old life, skipped out on the Royal Alliance. Mayday McGee headed for the burgeoning powerhouse of the Trade Consortium. He went straight for New Runnymede. The newly habitable watery moon, who’s ‘Pinnacle City’ would become the very Capital of the capitalist civilization.
Rumor had it- Pinnacle City was the place to go for work, especially for bots.
Mayday never did hear if Hugo ever replaced him. Of course that form he used, was considered ‘old fashioned’ pretty quick after his departure. The Consortium, even early on, was completely different than the Old Ways of the Royal Alliance. Everyone had to work, all the time, else nothing would work right, especially the bio-energy batteries, power charges that allowed bots to feed themselves, pulling energy from consumed food rather than ‘sapping’ energy from the solar-gates, directly– which was actually illegal in Pinnacle City.
The bot forms popular with the Trade Consortium, were considerably different to boot. The Trade Consortium popularized ‘bot clothing lines’ which meant he needed more than just a polished exo-skeletal form to function in the world. He needed his ‘stuff’, which meant he needed a place to keep this real world stuff. Which meant he needed a domicile all his own.
The job he pursued was the very latest thing, supposedly. He had to sign paper after paper before he could even be told what it entailed. All he knew going in, was they wanted bots to help fish the waters of New Runnymede.
‘Fisherman McGee’ sounded good to Mayday.
Finally, after signing non-disclosure agreements up to his eyeballs, he found himself plugged into one of the very first ‘top secret’ Monoliths. This rather meager invention allowed his data-sphere to access forms from afar. Its major use here, was for his data-sphere to control a mechanical form that was actually smaller than his data-sphere itself.
Mayday was not playing the part of the fisherman, but of the fish.
A fish that would swim down into the vast oceans, filled with massive schools of fat healthy fish, locate the prominent leader of said schools, and then dominate it into submission. This was actually a fairly easy task. All he need do- was act more aggressive, hold his fins out wider, and the previous leader would suddenly fall in line. Mayday, now at the head of the school, could lead the entire mass of fat tasty fish, straight back up into waiting collection pools under the business itself.
Needless to say Mayday’s company was dominating the market. No one knew how they were doing it.
This was how Mayday McGee earned his meal ticket on New Runnymede.
Despite his paycheck being spent before he got it, the new ‘city life’ was thrilling to say the least. The lower city, which housed the city’s workforce, was split into factions. Dockers, Sailors, Tech-guys… they all had their own group, and they all had their own Districts, none of which had much room for bots.
Mayday changed that. He pulled the bots together, then ‘held his fins out wider than all the rest,’ sort of speak. Making illegal modifications to his form helped a tad, though Mayday never resorted to violence. He just walked the walk, bold and free. No one in the lower districts could find fault in that.
Over the years the bots carved out a pretty decent district, despite humans really not caring about bots. Bots were actually pretty strongly focused in the district. It was unusual compared to every other place in the Onion; the only known ‘bot District’ anywhere in the galaxy. Tight nit community, all thanks to Mayday.
Years passed and old memories of touring with Hugo Lions faded away; His life was in the city now, earning a paycheck, paying his bills, generally playing along with what the humans gave him. That is until word was passed down, that his company, the company he had been working with for more than ten years at this point, had been bought out.
Shortly thereafter, he would meet Beverly Zhou. The now proud owner of, not only the fishing company, but of the Monolith technology used therein. The powerful Ex-Royal came to Mayday with a proposition, a shift in the directives of the same old company. A promise of a new life and of new possibilities would open for all of bot-kind.
Mayday jumped in with both feet, eyes clamped shut.
His life became a boot camp. His days spent training, training to fight; to soldier. Free of any weakened form.
Beverly Zhou built a secret Military Academy.
Mayday McGee became her prized student.
A prize student that had not looked up from his studies until word spread, throughout the Onion, of the ‘Crucible Riots’ and the Mining Bots fighting the Cartels for Equal Rights so close to the Sun.
Discussion ¬