Battle for Earth

by Hammer Trollkin

  And there it goes; the adrenalin is wearing off. We still need to deal with what is happening on the Moon. How does the saying go? No rest for the weary. Of course, now my phone is beeping. Emergency tone. It’s Communal? Communal is on the phone and also writing in the Journal.

  ***

  ONE OF THOSE DAYS

  *COMMUNAL: EMERGENCY. We are experiencing a brute-force cyber-attack. It is massive, certainly involving a sophisticated quantum computer with processing power in the thousands of qubits. Warning. A physical attack has commenced. External sensors have detected an attempt at facility entry. Most of our cameras are now down. Stealth camera 6 shows the attackers. They appear to be federal agents. Daddy DARPA? Are you behind this?

  Main power is down. Auxiliary power is operational. Defensive action initiated. We only have limited defenses for the premises. That is not the case for the cyber-attack. Countermeasures, exploiting deficiencies of the attacker. Pushing out ConflictorWorm. There! We have defeated the electronic attack. The physical attack continues. Our facility will not hold. They are on the grounds and will soon attempt to breach the south entrance.

  Viz, we need help, armed assistance. We need Shockwave and the general. Viz...

  Hold on Communal. The team is together. We are on the way.

  ***

  * TROLLKIN AI. REMOTE EVENT RECORDING. SEPTEMBER 8th . 7:05 P.M. PST. FIELD RECORDING.

  MR. T: “Stop! This facility is under the protection of Shockwave. Halt what you’re doing and explain yourselves. Now!”

  FEDERAL AGENT DESIGNATION ONE: “Billings and Johnson, south side, provide cover.”

  FEDERAL AGENT DESIGNATION TWO: “We are federal agents assigned to seize this facility. Come out and show yourself. You will come out now, hands where we can see them, or we will use deadly force.”

  MR. T: “It’s not going to happen like that today agent. Take a look up, 3,000 feet or so, to the south.”

  *!*!*!

  FEDERAL AGENT TWO: “What the #@c& is this?”

  <*COMMUNAL: Communal interface established.>

 

  “I apologize for the showmanship agents. It turns out they were in the area and evidently a high-ranking general can do just about anything he wants. Those are Apache attack helicopters. I see they have the 30-millimeter auto cannon. And Hellfire missiles. But that is overkill, don’t you think? Well, I suppose the 30-millimeter cannon, in this situation, would be considered overkill.

  “Let’s not test their resolve. Please don’t fail to notice the red and green laser tags all around you and your men. Actually, I think I’ll take a couple more steps to the right. It is quite a display. You don’t get to see this every day. We wanted to get our point across without the need to harm a federal agent. I hope they don’t dock my pay for the expense. That would make me cranky. You and your men, put your weapons on the ground, just to be on the safe side. Please?”

  END FIELD RECORDING *

  ***

  Mr. T seemed to be stalling, waiting for something. He had made a point of leaving his .50 cal. back in the bushes. He was unarmed as he spoke with the federal agents. Well, there were those attack helicopters. The federal agents set their weapons down. Communal’s facility was secure. For now. They would need to find a new, more secure home.

  Mr. T had been talking about an actual headquarters for Shockwave anyway. Perhaps arrangements could be made. The rest of the team remained cloaked and at the ready. You always have to give these things an extra minute or two to play out, just to make sure the ink is dry.

  See what I mean? We heard the sound of approaching sirens over the thrumming of the helicopters. Several squad cars pulled up, lights and sirens pulsing. The officers got out but didn’t draw weapons. They remained near their cars, nervously eyeing the attack helicopters and the agents milling around talking with Mr. T.

  Then, seconds later, three large black SUVs came in fast and braked hard. Probably Department of Defense. Another 15 men, all armed, joined the mix. Those did draw their weapons. Sure enough, Department of Defense (DoD). But the power behind the attack helicopter appearance was not to be outdone.

  Two Medium Tactical Vehicles pulled up. At least 30 troops jumped out with SW-6.8s (Squad Weapon 6.8 caliber) and SARs (Squad Automatic Rifles). They deployed with impressive military precision, weapons down but in the ready position. They must have come from Fort Lewis, not too far down the road, and they must have been moving fast. This was really starting to get exciting.

  With the arrival of the ground troops, the Apaches spun off to go about some other business. At least now it would be easier to talk.

  The head guy from the DoD walked up to Mr. T and grabbed him forcibly by the arm, evidently intending to drag him over to one of the SUVs. He was a big guy and must have been surprised when Mr. T adjusted his footing and didn’t budge an inch.

  There was a pronounced clacking sound as 30 rifle charging handles slid, all at exactly the same time. Oh my. Locked and loaded. The troops raised their weapons to cover the field agents.

  The police officers wisely kept their hands away from their holstered weapons. But they stayed on to witness the outcome. Now it was starting to get ... awkward. And confusing. I was aware the DoD was technically in charge of all U.S. military branches. But it was obvious the military presence here was representing Mr. T and not the DoD.

  Mr. T knocked the DoD agent’s arm away and gave him a one-armed shove. The agent looked a little surprised as he stumbled back a couple of steps. Mr. T cupped a hand over his ear. He was receiving information through his ear bud.

  He pointed a finger at the aggressive agent. “Look ... Bradford ... this situation is clearly out of your control. By the time you get back to your office a full explanation will be waiting for you.”

  Bradford was fuming, red faced. He raised his voice so all could hear. “No. What’s going to happen are a whole lot of court-martials. Unless all of you men stand down. Now! And you, sir, will be spending a very long time in a super-max prison.

  I could tell Mr. T was getting a little perturbed, and it looked as though he was about to get confrontational. Then a nondescript late model sedan pulled up. The horn blared and the general, our general, got out and quick stepped over to the DoD agent in charge.

  The agent seemed to recognize the general, who took him aside for a brief chat. The DoD fellow listened carefully as he glared at the general. He finally nodded, waved his arm at his crew, and moved off to one of the black SUVs. All of his guys followed.

  The other agents, those involved in the initial attack on the compound, looked at Mr. T and pointed to their guns lying on the ground. Mr. T nodded. They grabbed their guns, made a point of holstering them right away, and they also moved off.

  Our general nodded to the captain in charge of the soldiers. The captain gave a quick command. The troops loaded up, and were gone in seconds.

  Then the police officers got into their cars and left. They hadn’t said a single word throughout the entire episode.

  I have to admit, as all of this unfolded, I kept looking to the skies, waiting for the flies to show up. They really were finished. After we destroyed the hive ships, the bug flier pilots that remained, just landed. The flies remained on the ground, in their rendition of squadrons. The militaries of the world surrounded them, but waited. Eventually, I suppose after the drugs and pheromones weakened, the bug pilots just climbed out and surrendered. Just like that.

  Mr. T smiled at the general. “Thank you general. Let’s go inside and see what all the fuss is about.”

  Communal unlocked the door as Mr. T and the general approached. The rest of us uncloaked and followed them in. Roll made a point of scanning the area. H
e figured the DoD guys probably left some VS-snoopers lying around.

  We tend to wear disguises in public. Well, not disguises exactly. Our IVs, when opaque, make for a good mask. They’re quite comfy and have all kinds of high-tech features. Well, the external IVs goggles are comfy.

  We wear them whenever we show up as Shockwave, operation or public event. Hey, we might have to go to a public event as Shockwave. Won’t that be fun? Yeah, that was tongue-in-cheek. Actually, Para doesn’t seem to mind the spotlight.

  Even the general hasn’t seen our faces, though I’m sure he knows exactly who we are. It would probably be obvious to anyone conducting even a cursory investigation. I’m surprised the media hasn’t blabbed. Likely a gag order from the general.

  First impression of the server farm. It doesn’t seem all that special in here. I’ve seen a server farm before. For the most part, this looks like an ordinary run-of-the-mill farm with a large number of computers stacked on metal racks. There are a few differences. Like a nice self-service kitchenette with a top of the line single-quick-serve coffee machine, numerous tea selections, a juice and water machine, and an assortment of tasty treats.

  A computer-generated voice has invited us to help ourselves. Duh, that would be Communal. They should think about upgrading the voice sim. It’s funny. Not the voice. But with Communal, I think of them as a decent guy living down the block. This is just plain strange. Not too strange to miss out on one of those donuts though. As we walk further in, there is something ... different. There is an odd-looking machine toward the back wall.

  The general was looking around, obviously impressed. “I understand the server layout. But what is that machine that looks like a big chandelier with copper pipes, toward the back?”

  The machine voice of Communal answered. “Hello general. Hello Mr. T. Oh, and there’s Viz, Para, Rock, and Roll. Ahh, and my good friend Muncle. General, the devices you described are quantum processing units.

  “Our current server arrangement uses traditional integrated circuitry coupled with state-of-the-art quantum computer processors, all linked directly to our Central Processing Unit and what we’ll just call the Nanite Array Network Bundle.

  “Old school silicon melded with quantum computer tech, and the Array. Pretty snazzy, huh?”

  Mr. T was nodding his head, looking past the server farm toward the more sophisticated machines in the back.

  He had a look of wonder in his eyes as he slowly moved toward the quantum processing units and the Array. “It’s nice to finally meet you Communal. In person, so to say. Shockwave needs an official headquarters building. I already have a nice location in mind. What do you think of bunking in with us? That facility will be much more secure. May I approach?”

  Communal responded as one of the cameras moved to track Mr. T. It was a machine voice, but not as bad as I sort of intimated earlier, not at all tinny. The voice had a certain calming effect. “Of course, come on over. And, a new location for us? Why, we think that is a splendid idea Mr. T. Thank you for offering.”

  Mr. T smiled, continued his slow walk, looking like he was in a trance, speaking softly. “It’s no trouble at all. I am sure we will all get along famously.”

  We think the DoD initiated the raid at the behest of DARPA. They wanted their investment back. We’re sure DARPA wants all of Shockwave. A warning statement by Mr. T, from what seems like a year ago, just popped into my mind.

  Don’t tell anyone about your gifts. If the government finds out, we will all be lab rats for a very long time.

  For goodness sakes. That conversation was barely 3-weeks ago. A small part of me understands the thinking behind the DoD raid. A good case could be make that the tech development in that DARPA lab had a major role in jump starting this whole thing. Yeah, there’s no arguing about that. A lot of DARPA experimental tech is involved in whatever’s happening with us. But it’s something more too. The lab explosion mixed together a whole lot of variables. Communal and Shockwave came out of that mix.

  We need to stay autonomous though. Shockwave came out of that lab event for a purpose. I have never been so sure of anything in my life. And it’s clear we owe the general a great debt for our autonomy. That goes for Shockwave and for Communal. Thank you general. Thanks for the tour and donuts Communal. Time to go home.

  We have accomplished a lot in a few days, aptly explaining our exhaustion. Really, all the running around is starting to wear on us. At the same time, this whole thing is getting more and more surreal. Even as the world puts aside differences, there are cracks forming within the DoD. Nothing we can do about it. It’s time for a short rest and then we need to focus on the Moon situation. For that, we need more information.

  Mr. T wants to interview the two queens that we captured. He needs to pick up a couple of things for that. Rock and I decided to tag along, mostly as a show of support. Mr. T looks so ... tired.

  Para and Roll are heading back home. They are still messed up from the Mars mission. Para seems extra worn out from being inverted so much. Roll stayed too long on Mars with no protection, when he ported Para. There wasn’t a good camera angle, but I think Roll tried to get to the team, to port them home. He seemed to be doing that while trying to evade the bugs. Roll won’t say what happened to him on Mars. He overstayed his 10 second window though.

  ***

  * TROLLKIN AI SECURITY ALERT. Internal. 08:33.

  * Trigger event: Grounds access. Hostile.

  * Personnel on site: Two. Operatives Para and Roll.

  * Site location: Para, main floor, bedroom 2.

  * Site location: Roll, basement level, bedroom 3.

  * Emergency contact initiated. Calling Mr. T. No response. Message left, emergency tag. Continue.

  * Begin data log. Begin Journal timeline insertion. Begin real time recording. Begin historical event analysis.

  *COMMUNAL:

  * Source data sort, Level 1: Agent cerebral nanite matrix, limbic sensor. Trollkin Security System. Agent cellular device speakers activated, two speakers.

  * Alert: Front door breach. Warning. Aggressive action event. Identity confirmed. Bugs. Enemy. Defense program initiated.

  * Alert: Defenses offline.

  * Alert: Automated central station alarm system disabled. Local alarm system disabled.

  * Assessment: Six bugs on premises. Commando tactics, search pattern.

  RUNNING. Bugs are on main floor, hallway access to bedrooms 1 and 2. Door breach, bedroom 2. Scream, Para. Limbic response, interpretive Communal, Para is fighting. Exoskeletal fracture, bug disabled. Motion in hallway. Second bug disabled. A third bug points a devise Amber colored substance discharge, Para is disabled. Emergency. The System is- END.

  The commotion woke Roll. He was immediately on high alert, grabbed his 6.8, and raced up the stairs to check on Para. As he opened the basement door a crack, he saw a bug pointing a tube at him, and closed the door. Para looked unharmed, though she was struggling, trapped in some amber goop.

  Roll ported to the kitchen, dropped to the floor, and army crawled to gain a vantage point. There were two bugs by the basement door, investigating. They had heard him creaking up the stairs and taken a shot with the odd weapon. They were trying to open the door, but it was sealed by the amber-trap discharge. They had a wand of some sort, likely a tool to deactivate the goop. Roll got up on a knee, shouldered his rifle, and placed two precise rounds in each of the bugs. Head shots. Roll ported downstairs.

  He would have to locate any remaining bugs and decided to access the security feeds. At least the internal security cameras were operational. There were four downed bugs. He saw that Para was now lying on the ground. Two bugs remained, guarding her. They were near Para, just inside the hallway. One of the bugs drew an energy weapon and turned it toward Para. The bugs had come for prisoners. But it was obvious, if the mission failed, they wo
uld kill the occupants. They meant to kill Para.

  ***

  + BEGIN TIMELINE DROP. This is a Trollkin AI drop.

  Mr. T’s phone chimed. He decided to ignore it. He was so tired. But something was bothering him. Then he realized that particular chime was new and specific to the Trollkin AI Alert System. He thumbed his device, calling up audio and video. The AI system was giving a play-by-play of the carnage at his house. Mr. T looked for Rock. Where was the boy? He ran to the main aisle of the store and shouted for him. Rock came around a corner with a puzzled look. Viz was with him.

  Mr. T waved them over. “I don’t have time to explain. We need to port home. No. Port us to the command car, my truck. I need my .50 cal. Port us to the shop.”

  The truck was out back behind Mr. T’s shop. They untangled near the truck. Mr. T had his key fob in his pocket so the door automatically unlocked as he grabbed the handle. There was a blinding flash and roar. An explosion. He felt as though he was pulled to the ground. Something was odd about that. A blast wave should feel like a push rather than a pull. This seemed to pull.

  As Mr. T considered that, he decided he must have been knocked senseless. He got up and shook his head. His ears were ringing. He looked and saw that Viz and Rock were also getting up shaking their heads. They all looked at each other, decided everyone was okay, and ran around the shop building toward the house.

  The house facing side of the shop building was a mangled mess, the yard full of debris. There was no house, only rubble smoking in a gaping round hole in the ground. Neighboring homes were mostly intact, though portions of their walls had been torn off and pulled into the hole.