Chapter 2

LOCATION: PETROV STATIONSYSTEM: GLIESE 667

DATE: UNKNOWN

Alexander focused on the lights and soon another image flashed by. He noted it and mentally started counting the seconds. He wasn't sure if his sense of time was accurate in this place, but he got to the count of ten when the next image flashed by.

It was the same count as the previous one and the one before that. There it was again. It seemed there was a repeating pattern every ten seconds where an image flashed by. He couldn't quite make the images out as they were there and gone almost in the same instant. But he could tell it was an image. If you blinked, you would miss it. Thankfully it didn't seem he needed to blink, or maybe he didn't have eyelids? That thought made him a bit uncomfortable until he remembered he wasn't feeling any pain. He wasn't feeling anything, to be honest. Perhaps this was all some weird dream.

Although, if this was some strange dream, he didn't feel like he was in control of it at all.

There was just him and the stream of light. He knew it was a stream now because the images always flashed in from above and vanished below. The one time he tried to look away from the stream, he found it surrounded him. All except for a dark section that felt like his mind had been shoved into an old CRT television that was displaying only static. It made his mind feel weird so he avoided looking at that section.

Time was also weird in this place and he sometimes found himself blanking out for an undetermined amount of time before coming back. The only reason he knew this was happening was because of the lights. They weren't uniform. When he blanked out and came back, they tended to jerk suddenly like someone had hit the skip ahead button on a video.

One time he came back and the entire field of light was replaced by an angry red. The red was swept away before he could even contemplate what that meant.

Red was usually bad though. It only happened that one time and it never repeated itself so he figured it wasn't something he needed to worry about. Instead, he enjoyed the rather pastel color field made up of blues, pinks, yellows, greens, and purples that streamed through the darkness.

It might have even been pretty if he wasn't stuck staring at it since he had awoken. The appeal of the pretty colors had quickly faded. Now that he thought about it, had he awoken? He thought that was what clued him into the colors, but his mind was so full of holes and hazy areas, that he couldn't even say if he was awake or still dreaming at this point.

After a bit of thinking, he decided that what he was experiencing was real. Mostly because it was too boring to be a dream. Even a lucid one. And why the hell did he remember what a lucid dream was when he couldn't even say for certain this was a dream?

Alexander could only hope the holes would repair themselves given time. He could already feel the feathery bits at the edge of his awareness firming up. If those could fix themselves, certainly the rest would follow.

***

"I'm a robot!"

The realization came as quite a shock to Alexander when he finally figured out how to turn the slow slideshow of images into something more coherent.

With the lack of external stimuli, it was impossible to tell for sure if what he was seeing was himself moving about or some remote camera view.

He was pretty sure the curtain of light was some strange data stream. But that epiphany only brought on more questions.

He remembered growing up, at least bits and pieces of it. Most of those had come back from the feathery edges of his mind. The only problem was the holes remained and he could now tell at least a month had gone by since he awoke in this strange place. With no further improvement to his condition, he couldn't rely on his missing memories to help him out.

What he could do was stare at the video as his 'body' moved heavy machinery about. He saw other humans occasionally, but the video quality wasn't the greatest. Although it was improving slightly as the weeks wore on. Maybe it was less him figuring out the image issue as it was the body fixing itself?

That was just another question to add to the pile of questions he already had. Like where the hell was he? As far as he could see, everything was metal. Maybe some strange warehouse or lab. It might explain why his mind was trapped in this body.

But why him? Nothing in his memory led him to believe he was anyone of importance or intellect. Had he had some tragic accident? Maybe someone sold his comatose body for science?

He did vaguely recall people doing that and their loved ones ending up as testing dummies for the military.

That didn't feel quite right though. If Alexander had been stuffed in some sort of military robot project, why was he stuck moving hunks of scrap metal around?

He sighed, there was no point letting his thoughts tumble down an endless well of questions. Especially when he had no answers and no way to get them. He needed to focus on what mattered right now, regaining, or getting control of his body. Once he did that, then he could figure out what was going on.

***

Time seemed to whip by as Alexander paid attention to every detail. Slowly his vision of the world expanded as the curtain of light became a wrap-around view of the world. All except the dark void that cut across what he thought of as his front.

It was strange though. Alexander could see everything at once. Not like having to turn around or focus on a certain point. It was like his mind was perfectly capable of taking in the entirety of his visual space without issue.

When he thought about it, his mind seemed to go fuzzy though, so he tried not to focus on why he could see everything at the same time.

He also found out what he looked like thanks to a mirrored piece of junk he was hauling about. Or at least what the body he was in looked like. It was an ugly robot. Something straight out of some alien horror film. There was no head, because why have a head on a robot? The arms were long and articulated, looking like some sort of segmented bug carapace. They moved more like a snake than any robotic arm he had any memory of. The legs were much the same way, ending in wide conical feet. The body looked a bit like a misformed egg, it tapered at the hips where the legs attached to the sides but then ballooned out toward the top where the arms attached along where the shoulders would be.

The only thing that stood out from the dark grey exterior of the machine was a long gash that ran from the upper left to the bottom right of the torso. It looked like something very violent had melted its way through his body. The damage also coincided with the blacked-out area in his vision. Although he didn't see any cameras or other protruding sensors on the robot, so he had no idea how he was able to see at all.

Oh, there was one last thing. A box. It looked to have been jammed into the jagged rent in the body and haphazardly glued into place. It was different from the robot, but it was something he could almost understand. It had blinking lights on it, beat-up old paint, and some unknown words that could have been Cyrillic but were too distorted in the reflection to read. That was good.

When he first saw the reflection, he had nearly freaked out. As freaked out as his apathetic mind could get anyway. The reason for his concern was simple. He thought maybe he had been abducted by aliens and stuffed into this body to work as a mindless slave.

Knowing that humans were involved really didn't make his situation any better, but at least he understood the motivations of humans.

The next thing he learned was that he was in space. Or more accurately, on a space station.

It was an eye-opening experience to watch the massive bay doors open while being left in an airless chamber while a massive ship came in to dock. The ship wasn't like anything he had ever seen back on Earth. So either humanity had been hiding this technology, or a whole lot of time had passed since he was a self-ambulatory human.

But not so much that he couldn't recognize certain design elements of the ship. It used some form of projected thrust engine that produced a bright blue flame. There were also stabilizing jets around the ship that burped out little cones of fire or compressed gas. They were too small and too far away for him to get a clear view.

There was also artificial gravity, which blew his mind when he first realized that. But not shields. Or he hadn't seen any indication of shields. To be fair, he hadn't spent a whole lot of time studying the ship. As soon as it landed, the belly clamps released two cargo containers and his job was to empty the things. Or at least that's what his body did. Alexander still didn't have any audio so he couldn't tell what the old man who owned him had ordered him to do.

It was pretty clear that nobody treated him like a person, so he assumed they thought he was just a robot. Alexander had to hope that was the case, because if they knew he was a human trapped in this body and still treated him like this… well, that would suck.

***

More time went by. At least he could hear things now. Although the sounds were garbled most of the time.

It was just nice not to be stuck in this soundless void watching the world go by. He finally learned the name of the old man that owned him. It was Yuri, Yuri Sokolov. Although that last part should have been self-evident by the big sign above the door to his salvage yard that read 'Sokolov Repair and Salvage'. To be fair, Alexander had a lot on his mind and it was an easy thing to overlook.

It also didn't help that Yuri had activated the holo emitter that was glued onto his body as some weird control unit. The stupid thing projected a cartoonish face a few inches in front of him that covered most of his torso. He could still see through it but it did make viewing things a lot harder.

The old man hadn't actually wanted to turn the thing on, but Alexander's form was frightening people and the station council told him to do so.

He didn't think it made him look any less intimidating. If anything it reminded Alexander of an evil clown or demonic toy. Or like a mask that a robber might wear. But the council seemed fine with the change so who was he to argue? Not that he could argue or anything. He may have regained hearing to some degree but he still had no control over his movements or any ability to speak. S~eaʀᴄh the nôvel_Fire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

***

Dear diary… Just kidding. What would be the point? He noticed he didn't really forget things so that was one upside to his situation. Plus who would read a mental diary?

However, something interesting happened today. Something interesting enough that if he had a diary he may have been tempted to put this in it. He was moving scrap around like he did every day. Except this time, some idiot manning a small mobile crane smashed into him.

Not a good way to start your day, especially when you lost. The crane, being about three times his size and weight sent him careening across the bay they were working in. It's not a fun experience. But something in his mind or from the impact seemed to slot into place and he reached out and managed to stop himself.

Flabergasted at having control, Alexander forgot anything else. Unfortunately, the control vanished shortly after as his view of the world went dark.

When it returned again, it was to a cursing and grumbling Yuri. The man was fumbling about in the dead area in his vision.

Alexander had long wondered about that box. It seemed to perform multiple functions. One was obviously a control interface for the old man, it also acted as a projector. Alexander figured that was its original purpose. But now… Now he noted it was his interface to the outside world. Which was a problem.

If that box acted as both an interface and control point, could he even get control of his body back while it was still attached? There was no way he was removing it, not if disconnecting it meant being plunged into the dark silence again.

Alexander waited for Yuri to fix him and leave before he tested something out. With a significant effort, he willed one of his fingers to move. It felt like pressing through a thick wall of mud and his mind was growing fuzzy but he saw one of the digits twitch.

He released the pressure and relaxed his mind as he gave himself a mental high five. He could do this, he could regain control of his body, it was only a matter of time and willpower.

***

A little clock in the upper corner of Alexander's vision dinged at him. 'Has it been a year already?'

The clock was one of the many little tricks he had picked up since gaining his mobility back. He still pretended to be the dutiful robot and he couldn't speak anyway. So explaining he was a man trapped in this body would have to wait. Not that he wanted to go about doing that.

Alexander had realized a few things over this last year. First off, he was unique. And not just unique as in a human trapped in a robot body. That was a given. No, the body itself was unique. He had seen enough human tech from this era to determine that. There hadn't been a single thing that even remotely resembled what he was or what he was made out of.

Either old man Sokolov didn't realize this or didn't care. And Alexander wasn't about to wave a huge flag in his face stating 'I'm unique cut me up and study me!'

Nope, he wanted answers, but he was going to have to find them himself. Thankfully the old scrapper left him to his own devices most of the time. It had taken a bit of effort, study, and planning, but he had learned how the terminals worked around the yard.

There was an internet, but it wasn't exactly like the internet from back in his day. Most of the information seemed to be locked behind paywalls, but he had learned some stuff. The first thing he looked up was the actual date. It was 2395. He knew a significant amount of time had passed from his memories of Earth to now, but he wasn't quite ready for just how much.

His last memory was from the mid-2050s. Nearly four hundred years gone, just like that.

If he had any strong feelings one way or another perhaps he would have been upset that everyone he cared for and loved was long dead. But he couldn't even remember anyone from his past, let alone feel anything for their loss. When he thought about his situation, he realized if his mind hadn't been trapped inside this body, he would have died long ago as well. So that was a minor comfort.

The second thing he learned was where he was. Alexander had originally figured he was in some station orbiting Earth or the Moon. Maybe even Mars. But nope again. He was in Petrov station, located somewhere in Gliese 667, wherever the hell that was. Maybe that was something he knew at one time but was now lost to the voids in his memory. He would likely never know the truth of that.

It seemed like each new answer just generated more questions. He had to put those aside as he had more pressing concerns.

Scanning his surroundings, he found himself alone. Alexander made his way over to a terminal and began typing. One thing good about being a robot, he was quick and precise. The pages flashed by as he siphoned out a tiny amount of money from Yuri's account and into his own under a fake name.

This was Alexander's great plan to finally get out from under Yuri. The man was fine, it wasn't like he abused him or anything. It was just Alexander didn't want to be a functional slave forever. So he needed to work for himself. Even if this new him was a fake persona he had purchased. Turns out you could buy just about anything if you knew who to talk to. Of course, Alexander didn't know anyone. Anyone except Yuri. But after a year of doing Yuri's work, he had learned the man wasn't as upstanding as he presented himself to be. And some of the people he worked with were fine working around the law.

Alexander did derive a little joy from using Yuri's own money to purchase this fake identity. He didn't feel bad about doing so, he just thought of it as his long overdue paycheck. But setting up the identity and siphoning off small amounts of money was only the first step, as well as the easiest.