(Page 1 of 2) War Games by Steve Jones -B5SUMMARY: another entry in the freedom flash fiction contest Arny Weshall kept his head low, his helmet on and his rifle ready. He just didn't figure on walking right into a group of them.
The robots were playing cards on a makeshift table in a narrow ditch. For some reason the bots always loved playing cards. They turned as one when he stumbled into their ditch and froze–their doggone clever humanlike response programming was as good as ever. He had only a second, maybe, and only one chance.
"Deal me in," Arny said, carefully moving his rifle away from his body. "I lose, you get to kill me."
"Why not just kill you now?" a huge boxlike industrial bot asked. He didn't have a name, just a number. He looked like one of the MrB series.
"I have a failsafe E.M.P.," he said, hoping they hadn't found a way to shield against it. The bots were fairly smart.
"Show us," A Libby who had been dealing asked. She was thin, petit, with bright green eyes and smooth translucent skin. Her series had been made either for housekeeping or recreation, depending on which upgrades one paid for.
He opened his flack to let them see the box strapped to his chest. The failsafe would blow if he was seriously wounded or killed, taking out any computer within fifty yards.
They nodded as one, so Arny carefully took the three steps to the table and sat down. The Sarge would seriously spit nails when he heard about this.
"Put the gun down please," the Jack, a handyman series, said. He had a humaniod-like face cast in stainless steel, and a smooth chrome head. "Sniper?"
"Sometimes," Arny said putting the gun over his shoulder. "If I die you can have it."
"Thanks," the Jack said.
"You win, we let you walk away," The Libby said as she shuffled the cards. "You lose, you disconnect the E.M.P and you die."
"Not good enough," Arny said. "I win, one of you becomes my servant, and you let me walk."
"We're fighting against slavery," the Libby said. "For freedom." Arny had heard that excuse. The bots had always been honest and did what they were told, they had never been mistreated.
"You're free to choose this arrangement," he said. "Or you're free to kill me now and we all die."
The Libby thought for a moment. It was interesting how the bots could process information way faster than humans, yet they still sometimes took a moment to think.
"Okay boys," the Libby said to the other robots. "It's my game. Stand back."
Then as they stepped away from the table she leaned in toward him. "Your slave only," she said. "I won't be spent, lent, borrowed or showed."
"Fair enough," Arny said. "Can you make an army bunk tight enough to bounce an old quarter off of?"
"Better than you can," the Libby said. "Let's play."
She dealt the cards, which he should have contested, but they did have him three to one. In the end, he held his tongue and let her have the cards. She wouldn't cheat, it wasn't how she was designed.
The bots played a variation where two cards were put face down on the table and the other three face up, also, there could be as many as three more rounds where cards were added and discarded, always keeping five.
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