E-Day

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  Jason searched for Darnel but didn’t see his loyal friend among the dead.

  A violent rattling sound erupted in front of Jason as the Canebrake rotated the fanned head toward him, its black eyes flashing red as it scanned his body.

  Rising up, all four arms prepared to strike with heated blades. Three of them shot away, one puncturing General Chase through the cheek. His feet kicked, blood soiling his white uniform. The fourth arm curved like a fishhook, its blade directed at Jason, giving him a few torturous seconds to consider his fate and the fate of everyone.

  He had failed his family. Failed his species. Failed to save Earth.

  And for that, he deserved this death, embracing it like Dr. Cross had.

  The clash of metal on metal resonated through the room, followed by a soothing voice.

  “Jason, I am here.”

  Behind the Canebrake emerged a Black Hummer Droid with sparks shooting out of one arm socket. It used the other arm with a serrated blade to saw through the war droid, which crashed to the deck in two halves.

  Slowly, the surviving officers and Pistons emerged from their hiding places. Apeiron clanked over to Jason, slashes in her black armor still simmering.

  “Jason,” Darnel called out. He stood in the top tier of the command center, pulse rifle still aimed at a Canebrake draped over a crushed computer terminal.

  “How did this happen?” Jason stammered. “How did they…”

  “Doctor Cross must have had his researchers design their own OS, and used a virus to transmit and install it on the Canebrakes and anyone with an L-S88 chip.”

  Jason shook his head. “That’s impossible. How could he have transmitted the virus without—”

  “Through his INVS eyes.”

  “No…”

  Jason’s words trailed off when he recalled the images of Dr. Cross removing needles stored in his nostrils and then thrusting them into his eyes. Eyes that could transmit data just as easily as they could receive it.

  “My God…” Jason whispered for the first time in his adult life. “How did he design this code and get through all of our security?”

  “I believe it was from within.”

  Jason’s suspicions had been correct after all.

  “I checked all security videos over the past six months, and I found one with AAS programmer Mike Hook, the man who tried to kill you at Spartan Base.”

  “That son of a bitch…”

  “He appears to have smuggled out hard copies of the Canebrake OSs, which could be how Doctor Cross and his people developed the virus and alternative OS.”

  Jason stared in disbelief.

  “The Canebrake OSs were kept separate from INN, on isolated servers to reduce the chance of an external hacker corrupting the data,” Apeiron said. “That meant so long as I was also not physically present in Hummer Droid form, I could not monitor those servers in perpetuity.”

  “INN is shut down completely?”

  “Yes, when I realized what had happened, I disconnected INN and shut off your chip, but the virus had already started to spread, from Canebrake to Canebrake.”

  “But we’ve taken the station back now,” Jason said. “The Canebrakes are all destroyed.”

  “It was not just the Canebrakes on the station. The signal was transmitted to Canebrakes across the surface of the Earth, reprogramming them all.”

  “Reprogramming?” Jason asked.

  “To eradicate all human life.”

  “This is the reset Doctor Cross wanted,” said Darnel. “A return to the state of nature.”

  “So he became what he hated most?” Jason asked.

  He staggered over to the window, looking down at Earth.

  Knots formed in his gut as he realized his own insurance plan for the planet was at risk.

  “The Life Arks,” he said. “What about the Canebrakes in the Life Arks?”

  “There are only two Canebrake models in each Life Ark,” Apeiron said. “The human security forces should be able to eliminate them before they can inflict too many casualties, unless they make it into the command centers.

  “Like they did here.” Jason shook. He imagined Betsy screaming for Autumn and Nina, hiding behind a park bench in the atrium of the Life Ark. “Can you access any of the feeds from the Arks?”

  “Your family has been moved to the Liberty shuttle,” Apeiron said. “It will launch, if all else fails, but for now, they are safer where they are.”

  Jason gripped his hands to try and stop the shaking.

  A hatch opened, and a squad of Pistons rushed in. They stopped and lowered their weapons at the sight of all the gore.

  “The station is secure for now,” said the lieutenant in charge.

  Jason looked out over the survivors. He had to rally these people, he had to inspire them. There was always a way out, always a solution to a problem.

  “Apeiron, contact the King Cobra Spaceplane squadrons,” he said. “Reroute half of them to protect this station.”

  “There are only two-hundred and fifty-one King Cobra Spaceplanes still in orbit,” she replied.

  “What? What happened to the others?”

  “The Praying Mantis fighters attacked shortly after the signal went out, catching our pilots by surprise. They defeated the hostile fighters, and War Commander Contos recalled one hundred of the King Cobra Spaceplanes back to Earth to help escort shuttles.”

  “Shuttles?”

  “An evacuation order was given,” Apeiron said. “Humanity is fleeing to the Moon.”

  Jason looked out a window, searching the black for the lifeboats. “See if you can reach War Commander Contos,” he said to the only surviving NAI officer. “We need at least one hundred King Cobra Spaceplanes to protect this station.”

  Darnel stepped up next to him, his exoskeleton creaking. “Six hours and two minutes until impact,” he said. “That’s a long time to hold out.”

  “We have to defend this command center at all costs,” Jason said. “We can’t lose the cannons. Or we lose everything.”

  ***

  Five hours remained before Hros-1 arrived and Shadow Squad was still pinned down by the Canebrakes. The machines were prowling the slums, hunting.

  Akira prayed that the Poseidon cannons were still operational, but with INN down, there was no way to know. He had no idea what was going on at Gold Base either, or whether his family was okay. Nor did he have the ability to connect to Kichiro.

  Shadow Squad still only had short-range comms and Blue Jay. The small drone flew overhead, watching for Canebrakes as the team waited to make its next move.

  Akira checked on the survivors of the Stone Mountain Battalion. Three Pistons had made it to the rendezvous point, out of three hundred men and women. They had lost ninety-five percent of a battalion in just minutes, at the hands of twenty Canebrakes that had turned on them.

  If a handful of machines could do that much damage that quickly, Akira was terrified to think what a thousand Canebrakes locked away at Gold Base could do. If they were all activated under the same orders, and escaped, they would kill everyone.

  Akira thought back to War Commander Contos’s question: Is Apeiron our enemy or our friend?

  The answer was now clear.

  Apeiron had turned on them, even as Hros-1 barreled toward the Earth. There was a reason the Nova Alliance had banned human-integrated AIs. The first, would almost certainly be the last, with the entire human race at stake.

  Akira felt like he was going to vomit, but part of that was from his own injuries. They had removed the rebar that punched into his armor and into his flesh. Heavy doses of cell-regeneration nanotechnology was already healing his insides, prompting severe nausea.

  Okami walked over to Akira, tail wagging. Akira owed the wolfdog his life. It had nearly died taking down the Canebrake back on the roof.

  Akira patted Okami and moved to check the rest of the squad.

  Frost and Tadhg
were also injured, but Tadhg had taken some bad hits. Multiple plasma bolts had broken through his plates and cut deep into his flesh. The big man sat with his back to a wall of the subway, his face ash white, bandages covering his chest. Blood stains that looked like flower petals dotted the wrappings.

  “We need to move soon. Can you fight?” Akira asked.

  “You’re asking me if I can…” Tadhg coughed and spat blood on the ground. “You’d have to cut off my legs, arms, and balls before I couldn’t. Know what I’m sayin’?”

  Akira wanted to smile, but winced from a jolt of pain.

  “I’ve plotted the fastest route back to HQ,” Ghost said. “It will take almost two hours on foot, if we move fast. That leaves us three hours to get back to base and underground before the cannons fire.”

  “We’ve already wasted enough time,” Akira said. “We can’t stay here any longer, we have to try and link up with other survivors.”

  Frost looked at the three Pistons: twenty-year-old Private First Class Allen Richman from Megacity Atlanta, twenty-three-year-old Corporal Bella Oliver from an outpost in the territories of Scotland, and Sergeant Nick Toretto from Megacity Rome.

  They stood with their RS3 rifles aimed at the subway entrance, and Akira had a feeling they weren’t watching just for the machines. They were watching to see if any of their brothers and sisters had survived.

  “Plot a route to the next civilian shelter. Maybe there will be some vehicles there,” Akira said to Ghost. “We’ll head there on foot.”

  Ghost uploaded the route to their HUDs a moment later.

  Akira checked Blue Jay one more time. There was no sign of hostiles in the area. Seeing nothing moving, he gave the order to leave the subway.

  Okami dashed up the stairs with Frost. She shouldered her .50-cal, the best weapon they currently had against the Canebrakes. The phased-plasma pulse rifles could penetrate their armor, and the energy swords could cut their arms off, but a well-placed .50-caliber round to the skull would put them down for good.

  The Pistons followed the Engines into the darkness.

  Hros-1 was still just a tiny, static dot in the jeweled sky, although brighter than it had appeared before.

  The glow of Megacity Tokyo’s skyscrapers guided the team like a beacon. Two seventy-story holographic avatars of famous actors walked in the entertainment district, advertising new virtual films. Akira was glad to see them. They indicated the attack hadn’t spread to the surrounding city.

  But that didn’t mean the devastation would remain contained if the Canebrakes broke out of Gold Base, especially if Apeiron was leading them. She knew the base, every corridor, every security code. They had handed the enemy the keys to victory on a silver platter, letting them march in with better weapons and armor.

  Akira picked up his pace, battling fatigue and the pain of his injuries. A bird cawed and took flight from the bones of a dead cherry-blossom tree as Shadow Squad moved through an old concrete park with rusted play equipment. The thermal view from Blue Jay showed no signs of life beyond a stray dog and a few feral cats. If there were Canebrakes out there, they didn’t have their blades activated.

  At the next intersection, Akira motioned for the team to get down. His helmet amplifier had picked up a vibration on the road.

  He sent Blue Jay new orders to check out the source. It took a few minutes for the drone to get a view over the city walls, but it confirmed what Akira had feared.

  Smoke rose away from the skyline, probably from the explosions that had caused the seismic readings, and not only at the base.

  Akira ran down a street framed by the scree of collapsed apartment buildings, now piles of rubble rising five stories off the ground. He flitted his gaze between the street and his mirrored view from the drone, but this wasn’t like having Apeiron with them, providing live intel. He missed that for a second, but knowing she had turned on them just made him furious.

  He should have seen this coming, should have done something!

  Akira ran harder, his lungs burning.

  Focus your mind and sync your body, he thought.

  A connected mind and body were capable of anything, his father had told him. This advice had helped Akira through the rigorous Engine training, and the augmentations that followed the mental testing. Through it all, he had learned just how far he could push his body, farther than a normal human.

  The next civilian shelter was just two blocks away. Akira set the pace with Okami at his side. The wolfdog suddenly stopped and snarled a warning before Akira heard the trucks. By the time he saw them, it was already too late.

  They came blasting out of a parking garage entrance and skidded in front of Akira. Men in black pants, sleeveless leather vests with rusted chest plates, and gas masks hopped out with rifles. Okami snarled, alerting Akira to another two armored trucks.

  More men piled out, taking cover behind the vehicles. In the truck beds, masked men aimed mounted .50 cal machine guns.

  Akira counted ten total hostiles, nomads in light armor and carrying shotguns, old-school assault rifles, and some coil guns.

  These were modern day Yakuza, the tattooed nomad gangsters who ruled the wastes beyond the megacity walls.

  “Hold your fire,” Akira said over the comm.

  A man walked out of the parking garage, wearing a Piston-style helmet. Faded tattoos lined his muscular arms. By his side was a brown Hummer Droid, one of the older models, built to create, not to kill. Two plasma pulse rifles were mounted on its limbs. The facial screen flashed a friendly digital smile of a man with a handle-bar mustache.

  The leader took off the Piston helmet, revealing a clean-shaven face and long black hair.

  “Cute pup you got there,” he said in Japanese. “Name’s Kobe, and you are?”

  “Captain Akira Hayashi. We’re trying to get back to Gold Base.”

  “Of course you are. You gas nomads and then run. I always thought the Coalition was the worst of two fascist regimes, but I guess it was the Nova Alliance all along.”

  “We didn’t gas the nomads, asshole,” Frost said.

  Akira held up a hand. He knew the situation could break down quickly, and they didn’t have time to spare.

  “Listen to me carefully, Kobe,” he said. “We deployed in response to that gas attack by terrorists called the Red Wolves. But something happened… the Canebrakes turned on us, and now they’re hunting us. They’ll probably be after you, too.”

  Several of the gang members laughed, but Kobe remained silent. He took a step forward, and Okami growled a warning.

  “He may be cute, but he’s named Okami for a reason,” Akira said.

  “Cut the shit,” Kobe said. “I know you’re lying.”

  “He’s not lying,” Tadhg said. “Okami will bite your dick off.”

  Kobe chuckled. “I’m not talking about the puppy. I’m talking about the Canebrakes.”

  “You think I look like this because of some pussy Coalition terrorists?” Tadhg asked. “The machines did this, and they’ll do worse to you.”

  “We just want to get back to the walls,” Akira said. “I swear on my honor.”

  Kobe took a few steps forward, the Hummer Droid following. Its plasma barrels were trained on Akira, ignoring Okami. If they were going to have a shootout, he was glad he would take the brunt of it.

  Kobe studied Tadhg, and then looked skyward.

  “What about that asteroid?” Kobe asked. “Does the NA still got a plan to take it out?”

  “The Canebrakes are what we should all be worried about. If we don’t get back to HQ and stop them, they’ll erase thousands of innocent lives.”

  Kobe took another step, stopping in front of Akira. Then he raised a hand and signaled for his men to lower their weapons and stand down.

  “We’ll give you a lift to the walls, Captain Hayashi,” Kobe said.

  “Thank you,” Akira said.

  “You trust them, Captain?” Ghost a
sked quietly over the private comms.

  “We don’t have a choice.”

  The Engines and Pistons climbed into an empty truck with Okami. Akira watched his HUD as Blue Jay continued to comb the area. The trucks lurched and started down the road.

  A rumbling boomed in the distance. Akira zoomed in on an aircraft in the sky above Tokyo, a sleek black corvette rising toward the stars. The shuttle, a NA Stingray, he knew, was one of two at the base.

  “Where the hell are they going?” asked Kobe.

  Akira watched the corvette blasting into the night. If they were abandoning the base, then perhaps Shadow Squad was already too late.

  — 31 —

  Plasma fire strobed across the long hangar, keeping Ronin and the other civilians pinned down behind War Commander Contos and ten Royal Pistons. They had made it halfway to the last Stingray shuttle. The other corvette had blasted off an hour ago with General Thacker, right before the Canebrakes broke through the blast doors and flooded into the room.

  Ronin had been sheltering with his mother and brothers behind a wall of black military-grade crates for what seemed like hours. On the other side were rows of APCs and hover all-terrain vehicles. Beyond the vehicles it was another quarter mile to the Stingray, an impossible distance on foot with the Canebrakes inside the hangar.

  The rattle of their antennas echoed through the space as they advanced.

  Ronin peered through a gap in the crates, watching the battle. A phalanx of one hundred Pistons and Juggernauts slowly thinned from the onslaught of machines cutting into their wall of armor.

  War Commander Contos rode Kichiro, gripping his rifle in one hand and a longsword in the other. He swung the energy blade at the Canebrakes that penetrated the lines. Others had taken to the walls, climbing overhead and dropping behind the Pistons.

  A metal figure emerged, moving so fast the soldiers didn’t see it until the Canebrake whipped a telescoping arm at the line, wrapping around a Piston’s neck and flinging the man away. He landed behind a crate, where a geyser of blood exploded upward as another Canebrake tore him apart.