The man seemed confused. "Whoa man! Er... robot... talking robot... with a gun." he stammered as he stepped back. "I don't want any trouble. Whatever's going on I have nothing to do with it, I'm just out for my morning walk."
SB-5 contemplated the man's nonrecognition of him. Did he injure his head in the crash? he thought. He didn't seem injured though.
"So do we uh... know each other or something?" the man said.
Just as SB-5 was about to answer, another two men he didn't recognize materialized from around the corner. "Anton?" the first man said. So the man I met last night is named Anton. "Whoa. What did you get in to last ni-" he stopped short, seemingly noticing SB-5 for the first time. After a brief moment he continued, "You guys see a UFO?"
"Yes! The UFO!!" SB-5 blurted out. Only after did he realize the man, Anton, had also spoken. "I... UFO? Do I know you people??" he had said. He shut up.
"Yes, the UFO." the first man said with slight trepidation.
For the first time, the second man spoke. "Not to mention the talking motorcycle and now..." he said, looking at SB-5. It was then that SB-5 remembered he was holding a gun. Robots aren't supposed to have guns. For now, he remained silent.
"You should at least know me," the first man said looking at Anton. He then turned to SB-5, "Who are you?"
Before he could answer, Anton, who didn't seem to hear the question aimed at SB-5, said, "Right... Jim. Sorry I didn't recognize you underneath all that shiny gift wrap. Anyway what are you talking about?? Between talk of UFOs and confused, armed robots I'm feeling like I should have stayed in bed this morning."
It was then that SB-5 spoke. "Well, Jim, Anton here was interested in selling this firearm to my owner at the junkyard. I was just inspecting it."
Anton, unsure of how to react, kept quiet.
"Now, let's get in that car of yours and see if we can't get you a deal." Without giving him much time to think, SB-5 shepherded Anton into the driver's seat. After getting into the passengers seat he leaned over and added softly, "I'll explain everything on the way, but I'm going to need your help."
Anton wasn't sure what to think. First he randomly find a robot in a ice box, with a gun, no less, and now suddenly he's driving him—it?—to a junkyard.
"As I was saying," the robot continued, "I believe there was a temporal event that cast myself and others backwards in time, which means there is probably a you somewhere who does remember the UFO."
"You mean... time travel...?" He had a sick feeling in his stomach. Another me?
"Yes! Which is why I need your help. See, this other me, he won't know I exist. And there can't be two of me if I'm to resume me life." The robot then rambled on talking a bunch of technical details that were lost on Anton. "So that's why I have to shut him down, the other me."
"So... you're... uh... going to kill yourself?"
"Yes."
"So why do you need me again?"
SB-5 had to repeat the plan a couple times. Anton seemed capable, but unsure as to why he was agreeing to do this. "So basically, you drop me off a few hundred yards before the entrance and—"
"And go in there asking for parts for my car, I get it. Not sure why I'm helping you, though."
SB-5 thought about this for a second. "Tell you what, you do this for me and I'll give you free use of my junkyard for life, anything you need, just ask. You'd be surprised what people throw away." Anton nodded. SB-5 chose to interpret that as agreement.
"Pull over here," he said. SB-5 jumped out of the car and ran over to the junkyard wall. He pause and watched Anton drive in through the entrance. Good, he thought. Turning his attention to his wall, he ran his hand along the surface of the cracked cinder-blocks. He could feel the rough unevenness of it. Securing his digit within one fissures, he began to climb.
SB-5 sat at his desk, looking over the figures from last month. This place might just be his cover, but he still needed to keep it in the green. His concentration was broken when a man opened the door to his office and walked in.
"May I help you?" SB-5 asked.
The man froze for a split second, then said, "uh.. I was wondering if you had any parts for my... uh... for that car outside." He looked over his shoulder.
Something fishy is going on, SB-5 thought. "I can take a look. Please, have a seat." The man reluctantly took his seat and looked over his other shoulder, not toward the car. "Something wrong?"
"Uh... no... nothing." his eye were now fixed on SB-5. The man almost seem to recognize him. SB-5's eyes narrowed, or at least that would have been his expression if he had movable eyelids. Somethings... off, he thought, but what?
Just then, one of his patrol robots fired off a warning signal. SB-5 stiffened. "Uh, excuse me," he said to the man. He grabbed the edge of his desk and shoved it to one side of the room. The man jumped up and back to the wall behind him. SB-5 opened the door in the floor and selected his M1903 Springfield from inside. As the man inched along the front window toward the door, a shot rang out. The bullet shattered the door on its way toward the center of SB-5's forehead. But SB-5 had already moved, and the bullet his harmlessly on the wall behind him.
****! He moved! thought SB-5. He immediately reloaded as he got up from his position. He began running full tilt toward the office. He could see Anton passing though the shattered door, covered in broken glass, though seemingly oblivious to it. He slowed to a walk and raised his rifle. Another shot, not from his gun. With all the speed of robotic mind, he twisted his body out of the way of the bullet—almost. The bullet grazed his left arm, piercing a vital actuator just below his shoulder. His arm went limp. "****!" he exclaimed out load. His gun fired, but not where he aimed it. It struck the driver''s side door of Anton's car.
Soon he was at the door of the office. His other self had no doubt fortified himself inside. Another shot, out the side window. That's now where I am... he began, but before he could finish his thought, his other self burst through the door and rammed the butt of his rifle square into SB-5's face. His right eye was gone, dangling uselessly as he fell backwards. He caught himself with his right foot. Using the momentum from his fall, he brought his left foot up and knocked the gun clean out of his other self's hands. I landed hard on the side of the building, and bent the barrel slightly. In reaction, to his gun being gone,the other SB-5 brought his right arm in for a punch straight into his other eye.
It shattered. He stumbled back blindly. He expected to feel his other self kill him immediately, but instead he said, "Now that your blind, you best tell me who you are and why you're here."
SB-5 stood silently for a moment. "I'm... you from the future."
"Bull****. Tell me the truth."
SB-5 contemplated his options. Then he remembered his radar. He powered it on. His other self was about two body lengths away. He raised his rifle discreetly and fired. His other self fell limply to the ground. SB-5 dropped the gun and fell to his knees. That was the closest he had ever come to dying.