The black screen exploded in blinding white light that seemed to sweep the forest like a giant laser scanner, and then it was gone. The tablet made a tiny beep, then a whine sound, then a normal beep. The screen turned on, showing the glowing black wolf’s head with silver fire for eyes.
“Well alright,” Canyon said, surprised but pleased. He picked up the trike and examined the docking station again.
Words flashed across the screen and were said in a deep monotone male voice.
:Unhand me—
“Predator, what?” Canyon said.
:I am WULF. Unhand me—
Are you seeing this shit?Canyon asked Timber.
“I see it. You better do what it says.”
Canyon put the trike down on the ground.
:Systems check—
The trike turned in a circle. It drove forward, then it drove backward. The robot arm reached down and tugged on the gimpy tire, pulling and prodding it into alignment.
Timber snickered. “That’s pretty cool.”
I never programmed it to do that.
The robot arm bent mechanically and stuck itself deep into the ground, then it lifted its chassis straight up off the ground until it looked like it was doing a one-armed handstand.
Timber laughed. “Now you’re just showing off.”
Canyon stayed silent. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched, disturbed. Predator wasn’t programmed to do any of this. Predator righted itself, then sat silently, the wolf head blazing bright on its screen. Canyon gave it one last look, then headed for Six’s computer setup, meaning to pick through it for any recoverable data. Predator zoomed past him. Using its robotic arm, it picked up a mangled piece of debris that looked like it could be a hard drive, opened a metal compartment on its chassis, dropped the thing in, then closed it. It motored forward a few feet and picked up something else.
“Predator, what are you doing? Give me that,” Canyon snapped.
Predator turned in a slow circle until the screen faced Canyon.
:I AM WULF—
Canyon crossed his arms over his chest. “What commands are you running from? List them.”
The screen went black.
“Do you hear me?”
:I am Wulf running my own internal commands—
“What?” Canyon looked at Timber, confused.
Timber shrugged his shoulders.
Predator drove away, seeming to examine the debris on the ground. Canyon watched it darkly, his mind whirling.
Timber walked carefully around the crater, then he headed past it to the forest, saying. “I’ve got a scent. Mouse-boy is this way.”
Canyon found his rucksack and put it on his back, watching Predator. Predator seemed to be watching him. Canyon didn’t say anything, he just took after Timber, following him into a trailhead. After a moment he turned around. Predator was there, wheeling along the dirt trail behind them. Canyon turned around, his mind working over Predator’s behavior.
It didn’t make sense, he didn’t like it, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.
51—Witch Work
