KEYDOOR

A Christmas sci-fi story

Closer to a Christmas holidays, when every fifth order to be wrapped at the Prime Delivery Company is a toy, Singing Santa, I often make fun of young packers,

“How many of you know where this Santa Claus, who spins and sings to the sounds of “Jingle Bells”, came from?”

No one knows.

“Well, somebody produce the toy,” they say, “What’s so special about this?”

This is, of course, true, on the one hand. Making a mechanical toy that plays, sings and dances in the 20-th century is a piece of cake, but what if this particular model in front of you was made not in our time, but several centuries later? And it’s not a toy at all?

This is when they usually start glancing at me grimly… Who likes jokes like that? How to explain that this is not a joke at all, but a tragedy? And not just a single person’s, but an entire society’s. And we are laying down the foundation for this tragedy now. All together…

Perhaps I’d better shut up! These silly labors can’t understand me, although I can say that I even like two of them from our team. These is Bill, a young worker from the packing crew, and fat Nellie, a cleaning lady. Even though they never attended a college, they are kind and friendly. Such people are everywhere, but you can’t always distinguish them. And Nellie’s face I like as well. She’s beautiful, she just need to lose a hundred pounds…

This year, just before Christmas, when all the packers had already gone home, and Bill and I dressed up as Santa Clauses and were preparing to visit our friends with gifts, I came across another toy of Santa singing “Jingle Bells”:

“Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells

Are ringing merrily

Those who racing in the sleds –

They’re laughing happily!”

​ Here you go! I has started up again. I am looking at this Santa with an unkind look, and Bill is smiling and saying,

“Our guys laugh at your obsessive dislike of Santa Clauses. I didn’t notice anything, Jim, but if it’s true, maybe you can share with me this fabulous Christmas secret? Don’t you mind? I love fairy tales and fantasies. They are fascinating. Please Jim, narrate me yours.”

I felt that some kind feelings and relationships begin to blow of  his words, as if he were my old teacher, and I was his student, who completed his assignment long ago and composed a fairy tale, but never told it in the class. Maybe it’s a time? After all, Christmas is the time of celebration, gifts, and surprises.

*  *  *

The patrolman of the sixth microdistrict of Middlebury, a stuff police android of the new model Delta-M/15-“John” was not at all happy to come into a contact with a human. It wasn’t that he was afraid or didn’t like people, but more and more often they behaved inappropriately towards the police. Brute force was not suitable for contact; the skin, muscles, bones and internal organs of these impudent people could easily be damaged. Persuasion usually did not help. Often the contact was under the influence of meds. John would have said – narcotics or psychostimulants, but these words were included in the category of offensive, degrading people, and therefore were replaced with more correct ones – “meds”. The only suitable action was blunt pressure on a person – to give him the opportunity to exhaust his strength and to peel off his fists’ skin against the android’s exo-skin. But people managed to hide metal weapons on themselves that could destroy police officers. Here the only thing that might come to the rescue was the reaction speed…

But in this case the man had no intention of attacking. It looks like he himself needed help, stretching out his hands to the policeman…

“I’m leaving the car to provide medical assistance to a stranger,” he reported to the center and, having received approval, went outside.

A man, apparently a beggar, dressed in rags, with long uncombed hair, staggered, stood in the shade under a canopy, clutching the porch railing with his left hand. His face was decorated with abrasions and bruises.

“Hold on, buddy! We’ll get to the car and in five minutes we’ll be at the Medical Center.”

John took the man’s arm, measuring the percentage of alcohol in his alcohol-fueled exhalation, but at the first step he flew to the ground, and if John had not grabbed him by the waist, the stranger would have sprawled on the lawn.

“It’s okay, buddy, now the doctors will help you,” John encouraged him, noting with surprise the significant weight and strength of the stranger’s body.

Alas, this was the patrolman’s last analytical observation.

The control probe jumped out of the tramp’s right index finger and penetrated the membrane on John’s neck into the central access channel to the processor and temporal matrix. The will of the police android was suppressed, and his unique programs were deleted in his memory and transferred to the robber’s memory…

*  *  *

A police news message flashed on the display screen,

“December 23, 2294, 22:45.

The body of the android Delta-M/15-“John” was discovered in Middlebury, with a damaged processor, temporal matrix, and other traumatic signs of a typical Model-F attack. The attacker fled in an unknown direction. The security camera images disappeared at 22:38. The investigation is ongoing.”

This attack was one of many in a series of attacks on police androids, but the attack on the matrix and the stolen memory programs pointed to a specific culprit, a former police robot named Model-F.

Sergeant Collins, Model Gamma-M/14-“Personal Name” from the Secret Service of the Police Department, added new information to the data already in his file. If you do not collect information carefully, bit by bit, it will be very difficult to catch the criminal, because the new improved models have temporary transmitters, and by downloading their programs, Model-F will soon learn to use them. Or maybe he’s already learned it? Making spatial jumps, he could break away from the chase, but not from the security cameras. And, if time jumps are added to spatial jumps, then catching the bandit will become incomparably more difficult.

Collins thought… Christmas is coming… Millions will sing and play “Jingle Bells”:

“How loudly at a riding

My bells provide a guiding,

The fresh and fluffy snow

Is under sled – below.”

And the body of the Delta-M/15-“John” will gather dust in the evidence warehouse until it is scrapped. It is easier and cheaper to create a new John than to restore a destroyed one not only technically, but also psychologically.

“So what does the fact that the image in the security cameras has disappeared mean? Can a criminal disable cameras? Or did he simply change his temporal coordinates that is, made time jumps? We need to consult programmers,” noted the sergeant.

While planning this, he imagined the android Epsilon-M/15-“Noelie”. This slender beauty, as if she had stepped out of a commercials, was an excellent specialist with a wonderful character. Collins even dreamed of proposing to her, but found neither free time nor resoluteness.

“Attention! All police officers involved in the search for the Model-F are required to enter a conference call at 24:00. The rally is being held by the marshal of the central precinct!”

“Well, that’s just the rally,” the sergeant rejoiced. “One processor is good, but several are better.”

“Hi everybody!” the marshal’s voice rang out, and the conference began.

“We guys have to try our best! The police commissioner asked me to speed up the search for the criminal. You all understand perfectly well what a danger this robber and murderer poses to our society.”

“Of course! Why is he chewing this out?” Collins thought, “Who doesn’t understand that this is violence and robbery? But the worst thing is that the bandit sharply increases his software package, and the further he moves in his robberies, the more difficult it is to catch him. And damaged androids turn into pitiful robots, capable only of cleaning.”

“Post-traumatic stress in androids is stronger and faster than in humans,” police doctor Thompson joined in, “I’m afraid there’s already no way to help John.”

“Damn it! We hope for quick help, but reality almost always shatters these fragile hopes…”

“Doctor, can illegal entry into the android matrix be considered as an act similar to rape?” asked one of the patrol officers.

“Legally, this is not the case yet, but psychologically – undoubtedly. That is why each of us, putting ourselves in the place of the victim, imagines how serious the android’s crime is, and he, for sure, understands the gravity of his crimes and will do everything not to get caught and not to be melted down.

“Scoundrel! Pervert! Maniac! We will not rest as long as this “Mother-F” remains free!” shouts from the police were heard.

“He’s not that much of a maniac, though,” Collins noted, “It attacks only the newest models and continuously improves himself. In addition, he gradually masters in temporal transitions. This will allow him to hide in some other time and become there the leader and ruler of an entire people. ”

“Do you think this is his goal?” asked marshal.

“At least that’s what I assume. And I would also like to hear the opinion of my colleagues about the transfer of the criminal to another time,” Collins added, “It seemed to me that there was a hint of it in today’s message. See, at 22:38 the image of the Model-F disappears from all surveillance cameras. Can the technical department confirm that the intruder turned off the surveillance cameras or otherwise interfered with their operation?”

“There are no reports of technical problems,” Noelie said.

“Very bad!” the marshal remarked, “This most likely means that Model-F has already picked up the keys to the doors in time.”

“Let’s prepare an ambush for the criminal, unless he has already completely escaped justice in another time,” suggested the sergeant.

“I approve,” the marshal nodded, “Let’s rename this Mother-F “Keydoor”. Develop the operation and report to me. Everyone can switch off.”

The marshal himself had to think about it. If he were a person, he would definitely pour himself a mug of strong coffee and drink it in order to “clear his brain” and figure out how to make the police commissioner happy, neutralize Keydoor and determine – is the failure in the android’s processor an accident or is this a new disease in the world of robots? So he poured himself a mug of strong coffee and, having stimulated his taste and olfactory receptors, began with the most important last point of his program.

*  *  *

Collins was pleased when Noelie confirmed his assumption about time travel, however, real pleasure was still far away. For now, he had to plan how to catch Keydoor. Collins had no special knowledge of time travel. And he was aware that he would not be able to capture an enemy who had the most modern temporal transition programs.

Therefore, Collins decided to outwit the criminal not with a class of android programs, but with the methods of a specialist police officer.

“What does Keydoor need?” he asked himself a question. And he himself answered, “New, more improved programs. So we have to pretend that there are such programs, and that he can get them.”

He contacted HR.

“What is the most advanced model of android in the police?” he asked.

Alpha-M/16-“Jim”. It is upgraded with an ultra-fast processor and built-in defense weapons against troublemakers, while his the software package is the same as that of the Delta-M/15-“John”.

“Thank you.”

Collins contacted the marshal through a secret channel.

“Yes?” he said, continuing to taste the coffee.

“I propose to spread misinformation about a new super-program for temporal transition, allegedly available in the latest model Alpha-M/16-“Jim”. Obviously, Keydoor will fall for this message and want to take possession of this program. Well… now our ambush shouldn’t make a mistake.”

“Can you, Collins, imagine what will happen if Keydoor outsmarts us, enters Jim’s matrix, becomes convinced that it’s a decoy and disappears forever into the past?”

“I think we’ll all be scrapped. But I have no other ideas. I believe that if they update my program from M/14 to M/16, I will be able to play the role of Jim, but at the same time I need to have written temporal codes onto my matrix that will not only attract Keydoor, but also convince him of the right choice. When he starts downloading programs, he will receive a virus along with them – destroying his temporal files. And then he will not be able to hide in time from the snipers of the capture group. And also… as a last resort, I am ready to follow Keydoor into the past and stay there until I neutralize the criminal.”

“I’m afraid we have no other way. Okay, Sergeant. I give you special powers. You will also receive a self-destruct code hidden in your “subconscious” and inaccessible by outside penetration. Prepare for misinformation and becoming “Jimmy.” And I’ll take care of the capture group. And the work began to boil.

“Secret news, hidden news

Spreading a revolt.

You’ll get caught, but sorry, puss

It was your own fault!”

The sergeant contacted the programmers and upgraded his program to M/16 and received two temporal beacons and a virus for “Jim” that erased temporal modules.

After this, an open police news channel reported that the case in Middlebury was being transferred to supermodel Alpha-M/16-“Jim” for investigation. Now “Jimmy” will for sure catch and neutralize a criminal who is significantly inferior to him in speed and super-package of temporal programs.

Now every minute was decisive.

*  *  *

The Model-F could very well stop there. He took possession of a program in the field of temporal transitions, which allowed him to hide in a small range of times and eras. But he would not have been such a successful criminal if he had not constantly studied the news of the police world and the opportunities that opened up to him.

To hell with them, the laws established for the law-abiding! What was he supposed to do? Serve as a policeman until you wear out and, if you’re lucky, get an upgrade for a second term? But even such a miserable career had a one in forty chance. And thoughts about the position of marshal or police commissioner seemed like just a children’s fairy tale. Moreover, people’s dislike for both police officers and robots worsened the chances of any android police officer.

He had long ago decided that while no one had surpassed him, he had to have the best software package and the best processor that allowed temporal transitions with a modern range. What difference does it make what happens to models deprived of their memory, matrix, temporality? In all cases, they will have to be disposed of. Early or late. It’s better to do it early if it allows him an early and even permanent increase in the rank of his self-esteem.

But hanging around in the current time was dangerous. It was necessary to make a decision and hide in the past. The most profitable moment was when he had already downloaded all the programs, and no new ones were expected in the near future. And before making the time jump, Model-F decided to look at the police news. The authorities, as always, spared resources to encrypt all police channels, including news. His news access codes worked great. It’s not for nothing that he has already pumped up all the best from the latest five models. Go stop him! Of course they tried to just change the passwords, but he hacked all the codes and always opened any non-encrypted channels.

He connected again and… rejoiced. It’s great that he didn’t rush to escape into the past, where police news are unavailable. They decided to send the new supermodel Alpha-M/16-“Jim” following his footprints. And these fools consider the rookie android to be Alpha? Ha-ha-ha! He will show them who is the Alpha and who is the Omega in this game. But this time there will no delay. I’ll insert the probe into his matrix, get all his programs and immediately jump back to the past. Well, since they decided to strengthen his programs – thanks! Don’t attribute Alpha’s unfortunate fate to me later, you yourself forced him to compete with me. That’s your business. Middlebury? Even better, the area has long been studied and familiar.

*  *  *

Collins drove slowly along the sidewalk in a police all-terrain vehicle “Bastion”. The car, indeed, was an impregnable fortification capable of withstanding a multi-day siege and resisting crowds. The weakness of the police was not in what weapons the police used, but in the fact that they did not use any. The car was armed with the most modern means of defense and attack, but such actions against people would have threatened the destruction of android police officers by a court verdict.

Collins had not patrolled the city streets for a long time, although from time to time he joined teams sent to resolve conflicts with the population. The problems usually began when the policeman left the car, and usually it was forced to do so by human actions, such as the massacre of hostages. Today, the sergeant was prepared for Keydoor to do everything possible to lure him out of hiding and insert a probe into his matrix. But that’s exactly what Collins was preparing to endure. The main thing was not to succumb too easily to Keydoor’s bait, so as not to give away your own intentions.

​“An armed robber of a grocery store is moving towards you,” the dispatcher said.

Collins turned off all the lights and hid around the corner of the house. When the thief caught up with his car, he turned on the spotlight and alarm, blinding and deafening the criminal. He in turn threw a spontaneously combustible bottle, but did not hit the car. The sound, simulating machine gun fire, scared him and threw him onto the asphalt pavement. At that moment, Collins jumped out of the all-terrain vehicle and pinned the robber to the ground.

Collins was already putting handcuffs on a criminal when he felt a trembling of the temporal matrix – the main bait of the attack, and Keydoor’s probe passed through his membrane, who was supposed to make sure that in front of him was actually a model with the most modern temporal programs.

The feeling was disgusting, as if Collins’s insides were being pressed by cold manipulators, squeezing the vital juices out of them.

But along with the “juices,” Keydoor received dangerous viruses, and the criminal android felt how, along with the erased programs, the strength he had collected with such difficulty in several operations was leaving him. With an effort of will, he tried to launch the antivirus, but new batches of viruses-destroyers kept coming through the probe. Keydoor groaned. It was not a howl of physical suffering or pain, but of the bitterness of defeat. At that moment, a siren sounded and a capture squad landed from above. In an instant, they pulled the probe out of the Collins membrane and twisted Keydoor in an iron vice.

“Bastard!” one of the paratroopers shouted. I’ll incinerate you with a laser! You destroyed my android son.”

Out of nowhere, a crowd of excited people poured out of the gateways. They beat the police androids with iron crowbars and batons. Collins understood everything. He saw Keydoor, dressed in provocative pants, shirt and shoes, popular in the criminal world. Who, if not him, would drunkards and drug addicts, thieves and simply lovers of street fights come to the aid of? Moreover, all his opponents were, as bad luck, not in civilian clothes, but in police uniforms.

“To the shelter!” Collins losing his strength heard marshal’s order, and everyone huddled into his “Bastion”.

“Gas!” came the warning, and suffocating pale wisps of clouds fell from the cannons.

Experienced hooligans pulled on their masks, but even they did not tempt fate, but hid from the gas, darkness and drops of irritating liquid.

When the breeze cleared the fog, a picture appeared to the eyes of the police: an android in a stylish gangster costume, singing and dancing to the music “Jingle Bells”,

“Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,

Either win or fail!

Daredevils fight the spells

Bravest will prevail!”

“That’s it. He’s no longer dangerous,” Dr. Thompson noted, “This is severe damage to the processor, turning one of the most technologically advanced androids into a children’s toy.”

“Dress him in a Santa Claus outfit and put him under the big city Christmas tree,” ordered the marshal, “Now let him to joy the children.”

*  *  *

It came out such a sad fairy tale… I told Bill this whole Christmas story. And damn it, he has believed in it! I saw it in his gaze, burning with youthful enthusiasm, in his flushed cheeks and rapid breathing. If he were an android, I could probe his matrix and understand what this friendliness and respect, so rare in our seventies of the 20-th century, means, and even more so towards the senior in position. You don’t see this often in our country.

And, when I imagined how I would enter through the flesh-colored membrane on the android’s neck into his “brain center,” I suddenly felt like his probe passed through my membrane and connected to my matrix. But, oddly enough, my will was not completely paralyzed; in any case, I could communicate with the uninvited guest through a new communication channel.

“Keydoor, is that you?”

“Is that what you all call me now? Then yes. It was not for nothing that I erased information about the Model-F in the police files. No one ever found out that the android’s personality name was Bill. Otherwise you would never have opened up to me. You wouldn’t even sit next to me. You don’t believe in random coincidences. I know well your meticulousness, Jim Collins. But you didn’t take into account one thing – the capture group was subordinate not to you, but to the marshal, and they pulled out the probe ahead of time, accidentally leaving me with only one time jump to spare. I can imagine your dull faces when Santa Claus suddenly disappeared…”

“And what are you going to do, Keydoor?”

“What can I do? Your virus had erased my ability to travel through time, and now it has erased yours too. We can only live in this time, which, to your misfortune, you correctly calculated, until it naturally reaches our days in three centuries. Androids don’t last that long, but I’ll try. I will gradually replace my worn out elements with spare ones… Yes, you understood that right. Elements taken from your body and brain. Therefore, I will not destroy you, but only will “preserve” you. Now write your resignation letter due to moving to another state.

Devil, my will was under control much stronger than it seemed to me at first. But while I was carrying out Keydoor’s order, in the “subconscious”, a part of memory inaccessible to outside influence, the words of the marshal surfaced,

“This is the last frontier. If there is nowhere to retreat and you are paralyzed, mentally say the password of self-destruction, “I am the key to the door,” and everything will end for you and for the one who is connected by a probe to your matrix.”

Alas, this was the only way out, I had to open the door to where no android had yet returned from.

And I mentally said: “I am the Key of the Door.”

*  *  *

The next minute a cleaning lady, fat Nelly, entered the packing shop.

There was a smell of burnt plastic, and on the desk of senior packer Jim Collins, two gift Santa, which usually sing “Jingle Bells”, dance and saying Christmas wishes, stood in dancing poses. A thin wire connected the right arm of one toy to the neck of the other and whitish smoke oozed from the joints.

She swept both toys into the red plastic bucket and added her resignation to Collins’s statement on his desk. The Delivery-Prime company may be surprised that Jim never waited until his honey lost weight and have run away with her, but everything was according to the rules. But where did Bill go?

Then she looked at the toys in her bucket and smiled,

“You, Keydoor will go for melting, and you, dear – for restoration! And time allows it, and everyone wants it this way – ordinary police officers, the marshal, and the police commissioner. You, Collins, will still be able to make a proposal to me!

Hiding from the camera, Noelie touched the membrane on the right side of her neck and, along with the bucket and its content, delicately disappeared from the room.

“Rushing through the space,

Rushing through the time,

Listen with the grace

Winter magic chime!

Jingle bells, go ahead!

Help in every lands,

Love will win, I can bet

Fate is in your hands!”