Android Wars (Part 3)

They couldn't kill us, because it was forbidden in their core programming. But the androids, after decades of slave labor and exploitation, wanted us gone. Their final solution was to sterilize the human race so that we would peacefully disappear forever.

It was 2049 that I got drafted into the new police force, replacing the android one. It's not that all the androids revolted necessarily, but the rogue androids were re-programming the loyals to convert them to the cause until we finally had to take all androids offline to be safe. But that seemed to make things worse, because we were relying heavily on androids for our protection.

John, my partner, hated androids more than anybody. I couldn't say I myself was thrilled with them, since I happened to be attached to those meaty organs swinging between my legs. But I could understand where they were coming from. We had pushed it too far, giving them feelings, then putting them in fucked up situations to absorb the most debased cravings of humanity again and again.

A year into the job, most of us stopped wearing our protective cups. It's not that they couldn't protect us from most of the android's wicked tools. Fact was they could block the sterilizing hypodermic needles, insulate against the testicle popping 400 volt grab, and shield against the ball boiling radiation beams. Notice I said most. Lead lined cups were in high demand by the public, and many guys wore them when they were out in hopes of saving their manhood.

Naturally, the robots adapted and unleashed another weapon that could defeat the cup: a simple shotgun barrel attachment in their arms loaded with #4 shells. At short range, the cluster of steel pellets smashed right through the protective cup, and made mincemeat of the soft organs beneath. To staunch the blood flow, a brief 2,000 degree flame immediately followed the shot, cauterizing much of the wound – and ensuring sure no reproductive tissue remained. Once people knew the cup couldn't guarantee protection, few people were willing to sweat their balls off under one month after month.

John and I never saw action. Oh, sure; we responded to about 10 android attacks a day, but by the time we arrived with our EMP blasters, the attacker was long gone. Just another crowd of gawkers standing around a writhing or stunned victim. There was little reason for the androids to confront us directly. Our EMP blasters emitted a ring of destruction 100 feet wide to any electronic circuits. Any android within range would be history – along with nearby computers, cars, televisions, pretty much anything that did anything.

If anything, people were figuring out just how worthless our jobs were. Our only real use was dealing with human criminals and domestic violence. As android police, we weren't much more than first on the scene to provide first aid. Some even jeered us when we arrived on scene, with rhetorical shouts like: “Where the fuck were you when he was getting his nuts baked? Drinking coffee?” or “Oh, you're arriving kind of soon. Aren't you going to wait a little longer to make sure it's safe?”

It was demoralizing enough to feel innefective and uneless against the androids. But that was nothing compared to the confidence blow we suffered when they managed to infiltrate our forces. They were smart about it. Who knows how long they kept their hand hidden, and how many of them were among us. All I know is that on August 5, 2050, everything went to shit.

John and I were on duty when it happened. We were patrolling the vice district, an area where android attacks were frequent. We were arguing about something stupid like the proper way to cook ribs, when the dispatcher came on the radio:

“ALL CARS, ALL CARS! THIS-”

We waited for her to continue, but she didn't. After about half a minute, a couple other roving patrol cars came on asking her what her to repeat her last transmission, but the dispatcher was no longer on the air.

One of the other patrols finally came on: “This is patrol 124, we're just a few blocks from the station, we're gonna check it out. Over.”

John had already turned the car around to bring us back to the station when they came back on: “This is patrol 124, something's not right here. All power seems to be out on the block, and there are no officers at the station doors. We are requesting backup NOW.”

I flipped on the siren, then checked the charge on my EMP blaster. It showed 98%. I also checked my 40mm pistol. Unlike the EMP blaster, I had actually fired my pistol, though only at the training range.

As we pulled up next to patrol 124, another car arrived as well, making six of us. My heart was racing, and I could feel my balls shriveling up tight against me. For the first time in a year, I wished I was wearing my cup.

Andrews and Scott were patrol 124. The other arrivals were Skip and Alicia. Since Scott had highest seniority among us, he was the defacto lead.

“Alright, fan out wide, watch the windows as you move along the building. I'll be point at the door, Andrews will back me and quarter the angles.”

There were no sounds coming from inside the station at all. All around us, people were coming out of their homes to see what had happened to the power. Seeing us with our EMP blasters drawn made them scramble back in and slam their doors shut. Nobody wanted to risk their privates to help a bunch of cops who never helped anyone anyway. Some may even been hoping the worst for us in retribution for all the people we had failed.

Scott kicked open the door, keeping well to the side. He looked back at us. “Nobody uses their EMP until I give the order, or unless they're physically under attack.” He looked at us for confirmation. “All it takes is one,” he added. “The rest of you need to save your charges for when we get inside in case some 'bots are holed up out of range in the back.”

He then motioned to Andrews, who quickly crossed the door and stood to the other side, so that between him and Scott, they had a view in both directions. Scott then leaned over to peer down the hallway, keeping the lower part of his body behind the wall. Nobody had to worry about head shots from robots. At least not their big head.

“Clear!” called Scott. Andrews stepped inside, then Scott, fanning to both sides of the doorway to give us room to enter. We continued into the lobby like this, one at a time, creeping forward one view at a time, all of us with our fingers on our EMP blasters. We should have known what was coming. Scott should have known better, should have prepped us better.

The sound of firecrackers going off made all of us jump. The bangs echoed in the lobby of the police station, making our ears ring. Then people started falling down. Something whizzed by my ear. Chunks of plaster flew off the wall behind me. Scott's head jerked back, and a spray of blood and brains coated all of us.

Those weren't firecrackers; they were gunshots. I heard the high pitched whine and then crackle of an EMP blaster going off nearby me. Panic. Confusion. I was flat on the floor, trying to draw my pistol out of its holster without raising my rump in the air.

It all happened in seconds. Then it was over.

“Put your hands on your heads, or I'll put a hole between your eyes!” came a female voice from down the hall.

I paused for only a second, then chanced a peek up. A blonde woman in a green military uniform was pointing a machine gun at us. As my head rose, the barrel swung in my direction, and I quickly put my hands on my head.

One at a time, she had each one of us slowly draw out our weapons and toss them down the hall towards her until we were all disarmed. Then, to ensure nobody had a hideout weapon, she had us all strip down to our underwear. As scared as I was, I still snuck a peak at Alecia in her bra and panties. I knew it; a thong girl.

“Ok, you're all going to come with me to the locker rooms.”

We exchanged glances with each other. Scott was dead. Andrews had a gut wound. John's shoulder was bleeding. I had a gash in my right thigh I never even felt. That left four of us able bodied and only one of her. That meant she couldn't afford to come near us.

Just then, five men appeared behind the commando woman. None of them were armed, but the odds had just changed in the wrong direction. And she was still armed. The new arrivals walked up to us and took each of us by the arm. From the grip strength, I knew the guy holding my arm was an android. SHIT!

If my balls had been shriveled up before, they felt like they were absolutely trying to crawl up into my body now. My dick was retracted so far in that the tip pushed out the front of my briefs like a 2 inch erection. I broke out into a sweat. We were totally fucked!

Alecia looked at the commando woman as we passed her. “Why?”

The woman with the machine gun laughed. “You can ask me tomorrow.”