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USHI-ONI paused on the top floor of the dilapidated building. The stairwell to the roof was blocked by debris, but he could see the orange glow from the clouds coming through a gap in the ceiling. He marched toward it, scaled the ramp-like section of the caved-in roof panel and paused at the top. Scanning the entire roof before exposing himself, he saw it was empty.

He climbed out into the rain once again and stood on the rooftop. He saw no soldiers or policemen or any parachutes or equipment, suggesting an assault on the island was beginning, but there was something out of place: a wide, flat object that gleamed in the low light, unlike every other dulled and corroded surface on the roof.

The twelve-foot wing looked like something that had fallen from a plane. But it was obviously in one piece. He found the parasail stuffed hastily beneath it.

“Austin,” he said to himself.

He turned with a start and charged back into the building, racing down the stairwell, as the first echoes from Han’s helicopter reached him. Han had to be warned or Austin would destroy everything.

46

HASHIMA ISLAND

“JAPAN will never be an ally of China.”

Kurt listened to the words and could hardly believe how like his voice they sounded. Not in the odd way one’s voice sounded on a recorded message, but as if the words were emanating from his own body.

The screen flickered. A new video appeared. On it, the Prime Minister of Japan was mentioning the possibility of warmer relations with China.

“We’ll see about that,” Kurt’s robotic doppelgangers said.

The voices were off this time, especially the second robot’s, which slurred the words just a bit. The scene repeated on the monitor.

“We’ll see about that,” the robots replied, sounding now more like Kurt and more menacing at the same time.

“They’re learning,” Kurt said. “Practicing.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to program them with a recording and be done with it?” Joe suggested. “Like the robotic assistant in Nagano’s police station.”

“That robot was instantly identifiable as a machine,” Kurt said. “Its lips moved each time it spoke, but that was just a pretense. These robots are speaking. Forming sounds with exhaled air and shaping that sound with their lips. They’re breathing, blinking, even sweating. If I wasn’t standing here, you might think one of them was me.”

“They’re better-looking than you,” Joe said, then added, “Strange that there’s no one here to monitor their progress.”

Kurt pointed to a bank of computer terminals and server units blinking in the dark. The displays on the screens were constantly evolving. “The computers are doing the monitoring. Machines training machines. Something tells me this is a very repetitive and redundant process. Until the machines have learned how to act human enough, they probably do this over and over again.”

As Kurt spoke, the robots stepped forward and walked into a different room. Kurt followed. It was a simulator. Similar to the one Han had in his factory but smaller. To compensate for the limited space, there was a curved wall of screens, which lit up all around them.

“That’s the joint Trade Pavilion built with Han’s money,” Kurt said. “The Japanese Prime Minister is going to be there tomorrow to sign the new cooperation agreement with China. It’s the deal everyone’s been talking about.”

“And the Japanese Parliament will vote on rescinding the joint defense treaty with America a few days from now,” Joe said. “The symmetry is uncanny.”

“And not by accident,” Kurt said. “But from what I read, the defense treaty isn’t in any real danger. The Japanese want more business out of China, but they’re not all that interested in going it alone militarily.”

The duplicates began moving forward, walking on treadmills. As they traveled, the scenery around them changed in a virtual sense. They entered through a back door and followed a route that led up to the main hall.

Taking positions in the virtual crowd, they waited as images of the Japanese Prime Minister and the Chinese Ambassador appeared on the stage. A digital representation of Walter Han was there as well, since he’d facilitated the agreement and the rapidly warming ties between the two countries.

Handshakes first and then the signing of a document. The Ambassador signed on the right side before passing a pen to the Prime Minister. The pen was put to paper and instantaneously both mechanical versions of Kurt reacted. They reached into their jackets, pulled out dummy pistols and took dead aim.

“Japan will never be an ally of China!” they shouted, raising their weapons and pulling the triggers.

There were no gunshots, of course, no blanks or even simulated noises, just clicking triggers and a pattern of red dots appearing on the screen as the system recorded multiple hits on the Prime Minister, the Ambassador and another politician. Their deadly task completed, both units took steps toward the right to begin their escape.

The simulation ended there and both machines went inactive and returned their pistols to their shoulder holsters.

The video screens around them changed to a hotel lobby setting and the duplicates walked to one side, where a pair of seats had been arranged. They sat down, crossed their legs, quite naturally, and waited. There was nothing jerky and robotic about their movements. One of the robots even picked up a periodical from a table and licked its fingers before turning the pages.

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