Chapter 10
Back to the Factory
By late afternoon, the large RCAM transport truck was rattling along the rural back roads toward the depot, its suspension squeaking every time it hit a pothole.
In the cab, the driver loosened his collar and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.
Last stop completed.
Thank Christ.
He glanced at the dashboard clock, already thinking about gas-station coffee and getting home.
Then another thought occurred to him.
“Better check.”
He grabbed the route tablet from the passenger seat and looked down at the screen.
At exactly the wrong moment.
Ahead, the traffic light changed to yellow. The driver looked up just in time to see two small autonomous delivery bots shoot into the intersection from the side road.
They were bright yellow, with cartoon cows painted on their sides.
Moo Mart dairy-dispatch bots.
“What the hell?”
The first one zipped directly into his lane.
The driver yanked the wheel hard to the left. The truck swerved violently, missing the little bot by inches.
Then he saw the second one.
It bounced awkwardly off the curb and ricocheted sideways into the truck’s path.
The driver panicked. His boot slammed down on the accelerator instead of the brake.
The heavy truck lunged forward and struck the curb hard enough to throw the front end sideways.
Metal screamed beneath the chassis.
The steering wheel jerked from the driver’s hands as the truck slammed down crooked across the shoulder and shuddered to a stop.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then came the ticking of hot metal.
The driver sat frozen, gripping the steering wheel.
“Shit.”
He climbed unsteadily from the cab and stumbled toward the front of the truck. One look underneath made his stomach drop.
The front axle had snapped. Red fluid poured steadily across the pavement beneath the transmission.
“Goddammit.”
He kicked the tire.
“Transmission’s probably fucked too.”
Behind him, unnoticed, the impact had jarred the rear cargo-door latch loose. The door had rolled several feet upward, and the hydraulic lift platform had sagged at an angle toward the shoulder.
Inside the cargo compartment, the collision had thrown equipment everywhere. Plastic storage bins, RCAM cases, loose straps, and smaller boxes lay scattered across the floor.
Near the open rear threshold sat one long wooden shipping crate.
Its retaining straps were still hanging loose.
The lid had slid completely free during the crash.
Cam lay partially outside the crate, one arm tangled in a packing strap. For several seconds, he remained motionless while his systems recalibrated.
Gyroscopic alignment corrected.