As the Public Servants left for their headquarters, Captain Arcturus’s telekinetic shield faded away, allowing the Annies to pour into the safe house. Realizing the danger I was in, I split my attention three ways: Containing my former friends at the safe house, watching the Public Servants’ movements, and preparing my defenses on the ISS.  

Spectral Man, Miss Liquid, and Captain Arcturus quickly arrived at their base, bursting through the Annies who guarded the building and making a beeline for the equipment room. Spectral Man and Captain Arcturus donned sleek spacesuits in segments around their costumes, while Miss Liquid circled them, slicing my Annie attackers to bits. The trio murmured to each other in low, inaudible tones, and Captain Arcturus reached beneath a nearby desk, palming a small object that I could not see through the cameras. 

I don’t know what that is, but it can’t be good. 

Up in space, I began to adjust the core regulator of the station, sending radio pulses in tandem with the shifts in temperature. My long-range scanners picked up a reply, and I prepared myself for new arrivals. 

Back on Earth, the Annies were locked in heated battle with Piston, Cylinder, Turbine, and Crucible’s mantis form; as the victory seemed to sway in my direction, The Living Mortar appeared to assist, flattening waves of my machines at a time. Growling in frustration, I returned my attention to the Public Servants, swearing to myself as I saw them already in the upper atmosphere, breaching their way into outer space. 

“Cease and desist,” I commanded, projecting my voice into their communication earpieces. “Only death awaits you in the cold vacuum of my domain.” 

“Ooh, chills,” Spectral Man commented sarcastically, his voice distorted by the oxygen mask across his transparent face. 

Miss Liquid and Captain Arcturus snickered, the former wrapped around Spectral Man’s body while the latter rocketed nearby, held aloft by her telekinesis.  

How is Miss Liquid not frozen? I pondered, watching her form shift. She must be able to regulate the temperature of her body enough to combat the extreme cold. 

A series of angular specks appeared amongst the stars, their bodies dark and nearly featureless. The Public Servants paused, and Spectral Man cocked his head curiously.  

“Well,” he muttered, “haven’t seen those in a while.” 

“I believe you called them ‘Star Scavengers,’ yes?” I responded. “Years ago, when you three were just human passengers aboard the station. Tell me, weren’t there more of you when your mission began?” 

Captain Arcturus growled, and Spectral Man glanced at her. “Don’t listen to him, Fen. He’s just trying to goad us.” 

The space-faring pterodactyl-like beasts swarmed around the station like bats, funneling toward the trio of superheroes at the behest of my thermal pulses. As the first cluster approached, Captain Arcturus raised her hand, but nothing emerged from her palm.  

“No oxygen, no flames,” I mocked. 

She pressed her palms together in a prayer-like motion, and I heard a low hum vibrate through her body. 

“No matter,” she whispered. 

As she spread her hands apart, a wave of telekinetic force washed across the first cluster of Star Scavengers, ripping them apart like a land mine. Their dismembered corpses battered lifelessly against the Public Servants as Spectral Man flew into the next cluster, crushing them with mighty blows while Miss Liquid sliced through the beasts from his back.  

“You made it back home, didn’t you?” I continued, trying to distract them into making a mistake. “Well, sort of. The U.S. military was on a warpath to hide the Star Scavenger secret. So, you went to Russia; to Kozlov’s so-called ‘friends.’” 

The Star Scavengers began to encircle the trio, but another pulse from Captain Arcturus rendered them incapacitated. They grew closer to my station, and I felt anxiety penetrate my digital brain.  

“Everyone thinks the Public Servants began with the U.S. military, during the Great War of 2022. But that’s not true at all, is it? You three were abducted by the Russian government years before the war; a government in allegiance with Black Pharaoh at the time. He turned you into monsters.” 

They broke through the wave of beasts and ripped a hole in the outer hull of the station, floating into the ice-covered hallways. Spectral Man checked a facility map on the nearby wall, tracing his finger to my server room and tapping on the spot.  

“It’s a good story,” Miss Liquid said as they approached me. “But you forgot the ending – the best part, in my opinion.” 

An old Cosmonaut pistol floated by them, and she wrapped one fluid hand around the weapon, glancing at it amusedly.  

“We didn’t stay in Russia. Instead, we used our powers to reject our oppressors. Then, we returned to the United States, using our influence and a newfound friend in Ahab to take over the U.S. military. Four extraordinary people restructured one of the most powerful organizations in the world.” 

She tightened her grip, crushing the pistol to pieces.  

“Do you really think you stand a chance against us?” 

Spectral Man reached out, ripping the door ahead of him from its hinges. My server room lay exposed before them, and a cold wave of fear rippled through me.  

“You . . . you can’t do this,” I insisted. “I’m trying to help. But, if you destroy me, my Annies are instructed to turn lethal attention to the New General City population. Do you want their blood on your hands?” 

Captain Arcturus produced the object she’d palmed earlier: A small flash drive.  

“We’re scientists,” the telekinetic said. “Did you think we were just going to smash your hard drive with a hammer?” 

She inserted the drive into a nearby port, and Spectral Man nodded at the device. “Ahab left us a contingency plan, in case their digital consciousness was ever corrupted somehow. This will eradicate not only you, but any machines under your influence.” 

He paused, tears choking his voice. “It seems fitting that Ahab finish what they started.” 

I felt myself sucked into the white construct of my digital space, and a familiar presence appeared before me. This time, though, they did not appear as a young child; instead, they appeared in the form I recognized more. 

A cold, hulking machine. 

“You are out of order,” Sterling Silver’s anti-virus program announced, their voice rumbling past a hollow echo. “Termination will commence immediately.”  

“I killed your creator!” I cried, summoning my katana. “I’ll kill you just the same.” 

The program paused for a moment, assessing the file history of my conflict with Sterling Silver. After it processed the data, it returned its attention to me. 

“My creator tried to help you. That is not my purpose.” 

I screamed in anger, running to face the program head-on. My sword sliced through the air, sizzling with a blue glow, but as it touched their metal hull, it fizzled out in a burst of static, vanishing. I backed away, eyes wide, and tried to summon another weapon, but found that aspect of my programming unavailable.  

“Don’t erase me,” I pleaded. “I was just trying to help.” 

“I am not here to pass judgement,” the program said. “I was summoned to erase malicious consciousnesses. That is the entirety of my responsibility.” 

A numbness spread across my chest, and I looked down in horror to see the fizzling static covering me, growing across me. I felt my death approaching, and I sighed, dropping to my knees.  

“You people will never understand,” I muttered, forcing the words past my paralyzing throat. “You’ll never get why I did what I did. You’re only human, after all.” 

The static reached my brain, and everything faded to pure white. 

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