Only Human (Themis Files #3)(47)
—But there can’t be that many people with the right profile. We tested hundreds.
—You needed thousands. Sixty-eight thousand. That’s how many p … people you need to test on average to find one person the robot will respond to. I tested Me … Mexicans at first to make sure it worked. We used ICE—Immigration and Cu … customs Enforcement—to get blood samples of everyone they deported. Within a year, we found a few who could pilot.
—Did you use them?
—No. They wanted Americans.
—White Americans, of course.
—Anyone not a Muslim. Apparently, we can only hate so many people.
—That doesn’t make any sense. They put people with too much alien DNA in camps because they don’t trust them. Yet they want people with even more alien genetics to pilot the robot.
—Ironic, isn’t it? Too much alien DNA means you are either locked in a camp, or one of the mmmm … most powerful people in the world.
—And they’re OK with that?
—If you mean the US government, no. They’re not. The pilots are imp … implanted with a small explosive device, inside their skull. They can remote-detonate it if needed. It’s sss … supposed to be painless.
—And how did you get the robot to work? The aliens left because this one was destroyed.
—Disabled, not destroyed.
—How do they control it? Did they make more people like Vincent?
—No, they got the b … best engineers they could find and locked them in a room until they figured out a way. They built some contraption—it’s a robot, really—that sits on top of the existing controls. The pilot stands about a foot to the side, their legs inside flexible … tubes. There are sensors inside that ca … capture the human leg movements. The machine translates them into something that matches the alien physiology, then transfers motion to the robot’s controls. It’s fascinating to watch. I have it on video. Would you like to see?
—Some other time. I want to know how they made it work again. I disabled that robot, like you said. It didn’t work. It fell apart. The metal in its leg was—
—Dr. Franklin, I’m a gen … eticist. I know nothing about the metal, or what you d … did to it.
—You know it lost a leg. You can’t just attach a new one. It doesn’t work like that.
—They found a way to convince the rest of the body that the monstrosity they put in its place was the real thing. I don’t know how they did that.
—Surely you must know something. It happened here, no?
—All I know is it has to do with the decay rate of the metal where the pieces touch.
—I thought of that when we assembled Themis. I got nowhere with it.
—You know, Dr. Franklin, it is not entirely impossible that they found someone better than you.
—It’s easy to find someone better than me. I just don’t think we have the technology to do what you’re suggesting. We didn’t when I left, anyway.
—If it makes you feel better, they did have some help.
—From whom?
—Come, let me show you. Oh, and Dr. Franklin?
—Yes.
—I want you to know I had nnn … nothing to do with this.
FILE NO. 2143
INTERVIEW BETWEEN DR. ROSE FRANKLIN AND DETAINEE 46275
Location: United States Central Command (CENTCOM), MacDill Air Force Base, Tampa, Florida
—Dr. Franklin! What a pleasure!
—Mr. Burns! Your face! Who did this to you?
—I believe his name is Keith.
—This is crazy. Someone has to pay for this. Let me—
—No, Dr. Franklin, don’t. That someone will end up being me. They won’t listen to you, and they’ll punish me for not being able to convince you that I enjoy being punched in the face repeatedly.
—How did they find you? Who told them about you?
—You did, I’m afraid.
—Me?
—Oh, don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault. Unfortunately, you don’t enjoy the same level of anonymity our late friend did. Apparently, the NSA was curious to see why you flew to Washington during the alien attack and decided to have you followed. They arrested me not long after you vanished, in my favorite restaurant, no less.
—I’m so, so sorry.
—Don’t be. There’s nothing you could have done. And, you know, this room really isn’t so bad when I have it all to myself. My apartment wasn’t much bigger. I do miss television, and going out, and pens. They won’t give me a pen. I think they’re afraid I’ll try to kill myself. If these little physical therapy sessions told us anything, it’s that I don’t like the sight of blood, but they still won’t give me a pen. But enough about me! I’m not the one who’s been on another planet for almost a decade. How was it? What does it look like?
—You don’t know, do you?
—Why would I? I’m from Michigan.
—It was … interesting.
—OK, then. That’s all I wanted to know.
—I’m just not sure this is the best place to talk.
—Oh, that! Yes, the only time they turn off the cameras is when Keith pays me a visit. Some other time, then.