The Misconception: Book One of the Reawakening Series

By Paul Hassett

Caleb Hendrix is a war veteran who makes his living by scavenging. He finds a long-lost robot and returns it to his mentor, who recognizes it as the controversial ADAM model, which was destroyed for being "too human." They bring the robot back to life, setting off a locator device inside Adam's head and an alarm that alerts the corporation responsible for destroying the robots.
When Helios Corp comes to destroy Adam once and for all, Caleb takes Adam and runs, promising his mentor that he will track down Adam's creator and investigate the technology used to develop Adam. Together with an old war buddy, his most revered pilot, and her ragtag crew, Caleb and Adam flee for their lives into outer space. To uncover the secrets of Adam's purpose and very existence, the crew must navigate the galaxy to track down Adam's recluse of a creator—all while staying one step ahead of Helios Corp, who is determined to decommission the robot. Adam's sentience and self-awareness cause the crew to think of him as more than just a robot. As the chase heats up, they realize that the cost of solving the mystery of Adam's creation may be their lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 16, 2024
• ISBN: 9798350955057

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Life isn’t easy in the belly of the beast. I’m down here in the darkness at the bottom of the Metro every day. If it weren’t for the augmentations to my eyes, I wouldn’t be able to see a thing. I’ve been down here for at least a decade—at this point, each day blurs into the next.

I’m a scavenger—I look for various items to help out my friend, Doc Solimon. All around me are garbage piles next to piles with dusty or murky paths between them. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was snowing down here, but it’s just the soot and dust falling from all the platforms above. If you don’t wear a mask, you won’t survive for long—the mask I wear filters out most of the filth falling from above.

There are so many levels above—it can be suffocating if you stop to think about it. In the city platforms way above me, life consists of buying and selling. Down here, it’s something different, something harder to define. It’s a hard life, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I could’ve had a different life, but I’m right where I want to be.

It’s not like I find amazing things down here—mostly it’s just garbage on top of garbage. But once in a while, I find something that Doc needs. Sometimes I find something to keep for myself, but I don’t need much these days. Doc takes care of me financially and gives me a place to lay my head down. I just need something to keep my mind occupied, and this life I made here does that.

I don’t have to deal with people all that much—I hardly ever leave the bottom of the Metro. I go up a few platforms when needed but stay clear of the top platforms. I don’t need to be around the craziness up there.

From down here, it’s hard to tell when it’s daytime. But right now I check my implant and I know it’s night. It’s dark everywhere, not just down here, unless you’re at the top with all the shiny lights and glitz of HoloAds. No, thank you—I’ll be down here doing my thing.

Tonight hasn’t produced much, but things can change quickly. I look up and notice a police drone dropping down from the upper levels with its beams of light searching everywhere. It looks interesting, so I decide to follow it. Maybe one of its lights will reflect off something shiny in one of these garbage piles. Here’s me hoping again—that never gets me anywhere. Down here, hope is gone. If you’re down here, it’s for a reason—those kinds of reasons push you down into the dark. Hope isn’t something that will help you get out of here. But I’ll follow those drone lights anyway.

The lights of the police drone shine on a couple of kids bent down, playing with something in a garbage heap. The kids drop what they’re holding and take off running. The police drone flashes its lights and chases after them, yelling, Halt, you have violated curfew! The kids disappear as the drone tries to follow them.

I head over to where the kids were to see what piqued their interest. Through my augmented eyes, I see the shape of a head. I look around to make sure the drone and kids are gone, then I turn on my headlamp for the first time tonight. Lo and behold, it’s the head of some kind of humanlike robot. I’ve never seen this model before. I reach down to grab the head, and as I pull it out of the garbage pile, I see that it’s attached to a neck, shoulders, and torso. I keep pulling and see it’s almost a complete robot missing an arm and a leg. I’m astonished—I’ve never found anything remotely like this down here! I look around, convinced someone will be here any second. If this robot fell from the upper levels, it would be tracked down and picked up almost immediately. Nothing of great value ever stays down here. The items I find here are primarily old artifacts of bygone years.

But so far, nobody has shown up. If nobody’s looking for it, it must be old. The robot doesn’t look all that bad, though—I guess being hidden in a pile of garbage has kept it looking reasonably unused. I check around the pile to see if I can find its missing arm and leg. Of course, there’s nothing else—that would break all my rules about expectations. Finding nothing else, I load the remains inside my huge backpack and hide them as much as I can.

Down here, people huddle around burn barrels a lot—people who have nothing better to do than stand around and watch everything that happens. The last thing I need is for these people to get it in their minds to try and steal from me. Most of the time they don’t bother me, but you never know. I steer clear of people even down here. With my eyes augmented, I don’t need a light to see in the dark.

I can thank the Corps for my eyes. The Corps wanted to make sure we could see in every light spectrum when we landed on different planets in other systems. They upgraded my implant—the NEAD implant everyone gets at birth inside their cerebral cortex. The acronym NEAD stands for Neural Electronic Aid Device, but I just call it an implant. I’m surprised they didn’t call it the NERD. So most of the time people don’t see me coming or going. I usually don’t have to speak to another soul, which suits me just fine.

The only person I speak to is the person I’m rushing back to right now. I’m excited to share this find with Doc—I can’t wait to see his reaction. In all my excitement, I almost trip over someone lying on the ground. You need to pay attention down here—you never know what might happen in one wrong step. I slow down to keep my wits about me and look around to make sure no one is following me.

I’ve often wondered how someone from the top platform of the city would handle being down here. They probably don’t even know the bottom exists in the city since most of the land is covered in water now. The Metro spans most of the southwest coast of North America and snuggles right up to the Sierra Nevadas. And yes, water has invaded some parts of the Metro, but not the parts I operate in. I don’t understand why they called it the Metro, maybe because of a lack of imagination or no one could agree on a proper name. I check my surroundings and get moving—I’m close to Doc’s laboratory.

CHAPTER 2

I double-check the area before walking up to the big steel door. I look up into the camera that sits right above the door. I hear the familiar sound of multiple locks clicking and a large bolt sliding over. I reach for the door and quickly enter the lab.

Doc is bent over his bench soldering wires onto something. He has so many projects, half the time I have no idea what he’s working on. His laboratory is filled with relics—old computers, robots, and machines from the past. Doc barely takes notice of me as I close the door. The door locks and bolts itself back up. I take off my mask. Doc has a filtered air and water system. Doc’s real name is Ezekiel Solimon and he’s a very old man. But I’ve found him to be sharp as a tack and very wise. He never reveals his age to anyone, not even to me.

I lay my bag on the ground next to me. Doc stirs and finally looks over at me. While I’m taking off my jacket, Doc looks at the bag closely. I hang my jacket and mask up on the hanger next to the door.

Looks as if you’ve had good luck today. Doc walks over to the bag.

Some kids were playing with it and a police drone scared them away. There it was, looking up at me like it wanted to be found.

Doc opens the bag and gasps. His eyes go wide.

You okay?

He doesn’t pay attention to me. He puts his hand in the bag and does something I can’t quite see. The robot’s head pops off. He sets it down on his bench.

Is the robot fully intact? Doc asks in a daze.

It’s missing a few parts. What’s going on, Doc? I’ve never seen you react this way to anything I’ve brought back—well, except that toilet that splashes your bottom when you’re finished with your business.

Caleb, you’ve never brought back an ADAM before.

What’s an ADAM?

This model is an ADAM and it’s very old indeed. I thought they were all destroyed or decommissioned half a century ago.

So this is a real antique I found, huh? I am skeptical. This robot doesn’t look worth Doc’s reaction.

Doc turns with a slight smile on his face. This is so much more than an antique. This model and I go way back. Back to when I was working at the Helios Corporation.

Doc turns back to the head of the robot and touches something on the back of its ear. The robot’s head opens up slowly, and I move in to get a better view.

What the hell is that? I ask, astonished at how it looks. Inside the robot’s head is a brain that I swear looks like a human brain.

Doc ignores me—he puts his hand inside the head and switches something on. The brain suddenly lights up. The eyes flicker. After a few seconds, they stay lit and stare right at Doc.

That, my friend, is the reason they were decommissioned and destroyed.

I reach for the head, but Doc stops me.

This brain is like no other robot brain. It was a special project headed up by Bennett Wilson, the founder of Helios. Doc closes the head.

Now let’s see if we can get this robot functioning. It’s going to need some juice to fully restore itself—this ADAM has likely been dormant for many years. Doc rummages through the laboratory in search of something.

I grab a power cable near me. Is this what you’re looking for?

Thank you. I always seem to misplace the power cables. Now could you bring the rest of the body over to the robot saddle?

I pull the rest of the robot out of my backpack. The robot saddle is on the other side of the lab benches with wires and clamps hanging from it. This saddle has seen better days, but it works just fine for Doc’s purposes. I place the torso in the saddle and clamp down the sides to hold it in place. As Doc plugs it in, the robot’s eyes brighten and its humanoid mouth opens and closes. It yawns as if it’s waking up after a long nap. Have you ever seen a robot yawn? I’ve been around my share of robots, but I’ve never seen any of them yawn.

It looks so human.

Doc is hyper-focused on the computer screen. The pages floating in front of us are all about Helios and the ADAM robots.

Doc finally replies, I was on the team that built these robots. As far as any of us knew, these robots were meant to be human companions. Not only did we build ADAM robots, but we also built EVE robots as a counterpart. We designed them to be as humanlike as possible. Could you help me for a moment?

Sure, Doc.

Roll the saddle over here—I’m going to start putting him together.

I roll the saddle over to him, then sit back and watch this robot master work. In the decade that I’ve known Doc, I’ve never seen him this passionate about anything. It’s kind of a relief to see he can still get excited about something. Doc lifts the head and places it above the torso. He delicately connects wires between the head and the torso’s neck. Then he lowers the head onto the neck and twists the head into place. ADAM and EVE robots were not well received. People began to shun them, seeing them as too human. After about a year, nobody would buy them. So many people returned them that we ended up shutting down the whole line. Bennett, the creator of these robots, was never the same.

What happened to him?

He seemed to take it personally that everyone shunned his gift to humanity. He became a recluse—after a while, nobody saw him again. There were rumors and speculation about what he might have done to the robot’s cybernetic brain. Doc stares at the ADAM and it stares back as if contemplating the situation.

How many were made?

Doc starts working on the ADAM torso, connecting wires and analyzing the results on the saddle’s monitor. He looks over to the computer screen, which shows a diagram of the ADAM blueprints.

There were thousands of orders at first. We advertised them as the robot to change all robots. But as it turned out, no one wanted them after living with them. These robots started learning and growing as humans would. People wanted a robot to do what they programmed it to do and nothing else. These were just too human for people to accept.

Doc swipes the screen and an advertisement for ADAM and EVE robots fills it. The narrator expresses to the audience how different life will be with the new robots of tomorrow. On screen, ADAM and EVE robots are depicted doing mundane things like taking the trash out or washing dishes. More scenes flash by of these robots doing exceptional things like fighting fires, as the narrator expresses how everyone will need and want one.

Whoa, that’s crazy! I’ve never heard of these. Why haven’t you ever mentioned them before, Doc?

Doc stops what he’s doing, swipes the screen away, faces me, and answers solemnly. Because of the controversy and what Bennett did after his pet project was rejected. It was just something that everyone wanted to sweep under the rug and forget.

It’s just weird that I’ve never heard of Bennett or any of this.

Exactly!

I can only stand there bewildered. Doc swipes the computer screen to bring the ADAM blueprints back up, and after consulting the screen, reaches his hand into the chest cavity. The chest cavity starts glowing. Apparently satisfied, Doc closes up the chest. The Helios insignia glows with a soft orange light in the center of the chest.

CHAPTER 3

In the basement of the helios corporation head-quarters in the Metro, a man sits in a dark room. He sits at a desk that holds a small lamp and a blank computer screen. Next to the computer screen is a box with a red blinking light on it. Stacked boxes in the corner of the room bear the Helios Corporation insignia. This man wears a uniform, the shirt likewise emblazoned with the Helios insignia. The man is watching a screen projected out in front of him from his left eye. It looks as if he’s watching some game show. All of a sudden, through the game show he notices the red blinking light.

The whole reason this employee works down here is to watch that one box for its red blinking light. With a start he pushes a button on the box. The screen that was dark a moment ago lights up with the Helios emblem at the top and a picture of ADAM and EVE robots underneath. The employee swipes the screen and it switches to a three-dimensional holographic map. A red light flickers on a segment of the map.

Doc continues fiddling with the robot, and I think back. Helios was extremely thorough in wiping this from the history books. If anyone should have known about this, it should have been me, especially with my years of experience as a scavenger—and especially with the things I did before I became a scavenger.

Doc finally sets his tools down and steps back from the robot. There we go!

The robot raises its good hand to its face, inspects it, looks down at its torso, then scans the room. It looks at me for a moment and then at Doc. Where am I?

Doc’s face lights up with a huge smile. The future, my friend—to be exact, we are in my laboratory.

I kindly pick my jaw up from the floor. You got it to work!

The robot turns to me. My name is Adam, and my diagnostics are complete. Except for my missing arm and leg, I am in good health.

Doc nods. Looks like you are in excellent condition. You appear to have been in a dormant state, and the garbage pile must have protected you from further damage.

While I’m watching this robot—I mean Adam—take in its surroundings, I take stock of what I’ve just learned. Setting aside the unbelievable fact that this was scrubbed from history, I have to know more. So what happened to Bennett and all the other robots?

Adam looks over at me. Bennett Wilson is my creator. According to my internal clock I’ve been dormant for forty-eight years, eight months, four days, twelve hours, and thirty-four minutes.

Do you remember what happened to you? Doc asks.

Adam looks around the room as if searching for an answer. I do not have sufficient information.

The employee picks up the box with the red blinking light. He runs out of the room to the lift and yells, telling the lift to take him up to the head of security. A few moments later the lift door opens and he steps in and disappears.

When he steps out, he is in a brightly lit room with marble floors as bright as the seawater at noon. A receptionist sits behind a huge desk made of a glassy transparent material that appears to float in midair. The employee runs up to the receptionist and slides to a stop, almost crashing into the desk.

The receptionist, a shiny new upper-level android, smiles. How can I help you?

I need to speak to Mr. Skinner now!

Do you have an appointment?

No! he replies exasperatedly.

You must have—.

The employee slams his fist onto the desk, interrupting the receptionist. Tell him an ADAM woke up somewhere in the Metro.

Doc ponders the screen floating in front of him, then turns to Adam. Adam, would you like to learn about the past fifty years?

Adam nods eagerly. Yes!

Doc swipes the screen to open the browser. It’s all yours.

Adam’s eyes light up, and he goes into a trancelike state, setting himself up to receive all the information from the past fifty years. Images start flashing on the screen as story upon story rolls by so quickly that even my augmented human eyes can’t catch everything. His eyes and the orange insignia on his chest start to pulsate. I can only watch in amazement. I try to get a glimpse of what he’s seeing, but my brain doesn’t work that fast. I’m no slouch, but I’m also no robot.

Doc heads for the back part of his laboratory. He makes a grunting noise, which snaps me out of gawking at Adam. I see Doc move a shelf out of the way, revealing a small door that he expertly unlatches. He disappears behind the doorway, leaving the door open. I walk back toward the doorway, a little flustered and amazed. How did I not know about this door? Doc has been keeping a lot of secrets from me. I can see that now.

Looking inside, I pick my jaw up off the floor again. This small room is filled from top to bottom with ADAM and EVE parts. They’re hanging from the ceiling, sitting on top of three-tiered shelves, and everywhere—everything you would need to fix these robots. I had no idea this room existed, which is a big no-no where I come from. You always want to know everything that is around you or it might kill you. I’m astonished Doc kept this secret all these years. He is in a section of the room with arms and legs hanging from the ceiling.

What is this place? I ask from the doorway.

This is my little secret.

I start laughing. I guess so.

I didn’t know for sure, but I kept some of these just in case I got lucky and found one—or if Bennett ever came back.

Doc grabs an arm and a leg from the ceiling before walking back to Adam. As he walks by me, he says, If Helios ever found out I have these, they would not be happy.

Why wouldn’t they be happy? I ask, but I can see where this is headed. All the work they did to scrub this from history, and here is a room with a treasure trove of parts.

Doc lets out a small chuckle. Oh, they would be happy alright—happy to destroy it all. It would certainly cost me more than an arm and a leg. He holds up the robot arm and the leg, emphasizing his joke. I smile at him.

He sets the leg down on the bench and positions the arm next to Adam in the saddle. He delicately secures the wires between the arm and his torso, then snaps the arm into his shoulder joint. Can you move your arm for me?

Adam complies and lifts his new arm, turning it around and clenching his hand into a fist. He tests methodically, checking for any malfunction.

Doc grabs a plastic bottle off the table and holds it before Adam.

Can you pick this up to check your grip strength?

Adam grabs the plastic bottle and squeezes until the bottle is crushed.

Doc chuckles. Well, I guess it’s working just fine. Do you need any adjustments with the grip or anything else in your arm?

I’m adjusting my grip and strength internally, Doctor.

Great. Do you need me for anything?

Will you help me put my leg on, Doctor?

Doc smiles at Adam. Sure I can, Adam, it would be my pleasure.

I’m stunned by this whole scenario playing out in front of me. Adam is having a regular, polite conversation with Doc, but I do not see a robot worth erasing from history. Adam goes into a trance, probably running more diagnostics.

Hey, Doc, I don’t understand all the fuss here; he seems like a regular robot to me.

I’m not fond of robots because of my past and what they’ve done to humanity. Humanity relies too much on what robots do or don’t do. They’ve pretty much taken over anything and everything humans used to do. But why am I complaining? No one else seems to care.

That’s what we thought at first—but Bennett had complete control over the final project. He designed the robot brain himself without any help from the team.

Doc checks over the robot leg as he explains further. We didn’t realize what Bennett was doing during his off-hours. He didn’t share the schematics with anyone, and by the time we realized these robots were special, it was too late.

Doc picks up the leg, carefully attaches wires, then connects the joints from the thigh to the pelvic region.

Alright, Adam, can you move your leg for me and run a diagnostic?

Adam starts moving his leg, swinging it up and down. It seems to be functioning normally, Doctor.

Doc steps back from the robot saddle, inspecting Adam thoughtfully. He walks around the saddle and goes to work on Adam’s back.

I still can’t believe I found this robot. It’s been kind of a shock to find out these robots existed, and then to learn Doc was a part of the team that built them. I mean, what are the odds of finding a fifty-year-old robot in a pile of garbage on the bottom of the Metro and discovering Doc was personally involved? Maybe you could say it was all meant to be. Usually, when I am in a situation that sounds too good to be true—well, I can’t put a finger on it, but I have a bad feeling about all of this.

Have you completed a full diagnostic, Adam?

All systems are functioning normally, Doctor.

Doc starts removing the clamps and the wire connecting Adam to the computer. Before he releases the final large clamp holding Adam’s torso, Doc pauses and checks with Adam. Are you ready?

Adam nods. Doc releases the clamp and Adam steadies himself quickly. I can see him adjusting and learning how his legs work in milliseconds. Adam squats down, testing the strength of his legs and his balance. He takes off across the laboratory, squatting, standing on one leg, picking things up, and testing the strength in his hands. This time he does not crush the items he holds in his hands.

I watch him in awe. I can see that he’s adjusting on the fly and that he’s learning instantly with every move he makes. Now, this is something I’ve never seen with any other robot. Most robots have to be programmed, but Doc didn’t do anything to Adam except turn him on and put body parts on him. He is adjusting to them so quickly that if you weren’t paying attention you wouldn’t have even noticed.

CHAPTER 4

The employee waits outside david skinner’s office, trying to figure out how to get the receptionist to do anything. Please, I’m an employee. Tell him an ADAM has woken up—he needs to hear this as soon as possible!

The receptionist stares at him like he’s some kind of imbecile.

Oh, for the love of—. My whole job is to wait in the basement for this very moment, and you’re screwing it all up for me. Now hurry up and tell him.

Inside the office, David Skinner reads a document on a computer screen floating above a gigantic redwood desk. The desk is from a bygone era when trees were plentiful and the sea hadn’t swallowed up most of the land. The floor of the office is again something from the bygone era of plenty: Calacatta Italian marble. Helios is the leading producer of robots and their parts—and everyone in the world seems to have a robot or two. Helios is not hurting for money. But David’s office is a bit gaudy.

On both sides of the desk, floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the Metro. Buildings glimmer as far as the eye can see. Shuttles take off from the tops of buildings, headed for space or perhaps taking someone home at the end of their day. Advertisers flash their wares with HoloAds—holographic ads lighting up the sky. Drones fly right through the HoloAds. None of this affects David—he’s accustomed to it all.

The intercom on his desk beeps. He touches the screen. What is it?

On the screen is the