Cultwick: The Sweeper Bot Plague Read Online Free

out his head, “I see the lecture went better than expected, sir.”
    “I cannot teach them if they will not listen, Germ. The church! It is always that damn church,” Rowland yelled as he threw his books across the room in no general direction. “I am going to have to quit. I have had it with these pea-brained baboons and their conceit... vanity... arrogance... narcissism! It is too much, I say!” He slammed his hands down on his desk and stared down into the dull chrome metal, hanging his head.
    “I know, sir,” Germ consoled the professor. He walked over to the books and gently began picking them up. “You say this almost every day. It will pass, I’m sure. Besides, who will be there to fight against them if not for you, sir?”
    “Perhaps, Germ,” he said before a pause. “Though, maybe it is time to simply claim defeat. They have indoctrinated too many, and their power is too great.”
    “It will pass, sir” Germ replied. “It’s going to be curfew soon. We should go to avoid the Cultwick Corps.”
    The professor nodded to Germ and began gathering his things. The rat butler tidied up a bit more, while the professor collected his papers and placed them in a metallic briefcase. Having acquired what he needed, Rowland shut the case close and flipped a switch on the top, causing a series of cogs to spin and slide a bar across, locking it safely shut.
    “Off we go, my rodent friend,” the professor said, and the two exited the lab and continued out the university’s front doors. The sun was gone and darkness descended upon Cultwick City, though with all the smog in the city it could sometimes be hard to discern the time of day.
    After a short walk, Rowland could see his home, considered a mansion by some, but he simply called it the manor. It had been left to him by his considerably wealthy parents, when they had died, and he had done very little with it aside from live there.
    The vegetation in the courtyard of the home was left to its own devices for many years and had been creeping up the side of the metallic walls. Germ had once attempted to cut back the vegetation, but the vines seemed to have somehow been given life - probably from one of the professor’s numerous experimentations. He had not tried a second time.
    The pair entered the home to find Tern standing motionlessly in the mansion’s foyer, his left arm extended toward the table in the center of the room. “A note for you, Professor Rowland,” he said.
    “Oh? Did Ryn go out?” he inquired walking to the note.
    “Affirmative,” he replied.
    On the table, Rowland found a scribbled note that looked quite different from Erynn’s usual handwriting:
     
    Max,
    The lottery finally called me up. I’ve left the letter here if you want to see it. There’s no way I can ask you to get involved in this, so please don’t. I do have an easy favor for you though. I’ve written a new punch card for Tern that may be enough to help me escape their clutches. I just need you to put it in, boot him up, and then make sure he understands his task. I expect the corpsmen will be here any minute, so he’s my only hope.
     
    Thank you for everything. I love you and tell Germy I love him too. I would’ve been lost without you two.
     
    Ryn
     
    P.S. - I may have completely forgotten to feed and water Gerald for the past week, so the world may have to wait on your carnivorous potato invention.
     
    “Poor Gerald,” the professor blubbered to himself.
    “What’s that, sir?” asked Germ.
    “Ryn,” he continued. “They have taken Ryn for the lottery. Those bastards took her!”
    “Let me see that,” the rat rushed over to read the note as Rowland fell into a nearby chair.
    “She was the only one who could find the perfectly squishy squid tentacles down on Second Street. Just the way I like them,” Rowland lamented to himself.
    “The punch card, sir,” Germ reminded him and picked up the card. “We should insert it into Tern.”
    “And who will