Battle for Earth
Page 20
Mr. T had expected that. A friend had given him a rundown of what “the agency” would expect. Mr. T turned over the pad. He nodded to the general and motioned his head to the side. The special agent let us go. No questions asked. The technicians could get what they needed from the pad and follow up to close any language barriers as needed. They knew where to find us.
It was no secret that the primary bug language had already been thoroughly analyzed. These guys had interrogated the queens to some extent and had obtained at least some information. But some in the intelligence services thought the bugs may have more than one “level” of communication. Bugs, after all, were not at all like humans.
I know Mr. T was sorry about what he would end up calling ... the ruse. The information on the pad would not be helpful at all. He would have to answer for that. But not today.
The general met us outside. He and Mr. T spoke briefly, very quietly. It was clear their mutual level of trust had grown considerably. Mr. T had already told the general at least some aspects of our abilities. The general knew we had a means to quantum teleport. And he probably was aware of a good deal more. Mr. T doesn’t keep things from us, his team, not exactly. There is just so much going on all of the time lately. As Mr. T says, we hardly know if we’re coming or going.
I sidled up to hear the conversation. Mr. T was a little hesitant. “General, I know some of what’s going on at the Moon base. But I don’t know the location of the base other than it is on the far side of the Moon. We will need to get eyes on the actual base, determine the exact location. It is well hidden, mostly underground.”
The general had no expression at all. Complete deadpan. He had this sarcastic tone. “Are you sure that’s ALL you need?”
Mr. T threw his hands in the air. “Please, general. There are a lot of people up there. And the bugs have nothing good planned for those people, or us. We can’t allow the portal gate to open.”
The general smiled. It was as though Mr. T needed to pass a test and had made it through. “It will take about a week. As it turns out we already have an expeditionary force tasked to destroy the enemy fleet. And we have a brand-new, one-of-a-kind ship attached to that attack force. That ship can move very fast and will be taking a look at the Moon base and snapping a few pictures. We’ll run some scans. We’ll be in touch.”
Mr. T was relieved. “Thanks general.”
Then the general said ever so earnestly. “Don’t mention it. Seriously. Don’t mention it. To anyone.”
Mr. T nodded. “Yes general.”
The general looked at each of us, right in the eye. “Thank you Shockwave.”
He meant it too. We had a whole week of what would hopefully be light duty. We needed the rest.
***
ALL IN THE FAMILY
September 10 th Mr. T had a real estate broker friend on the lookout for a nice office building to house Shockwave. He surprised us this morning with a tour of the facility. The space is large but Mr. T says we will grow into it. We each have our own office. There are two conference rooms. One is huge. There is a nice lounging area and a full kitchen. It’s all furnished, well appointed. There are even two small apartments. One for the twins. Another for Para and me. At least the twins won’t need to sleep on cots in Mr. T’s basement any longer.
***
+ BEGIN TIMELINE DROP. This is a Timeline Project drop.
Explanatory Notes:
1. Drop order initiated by Solcom Special Investigation Case 15-17962. Subject: Muncle, apparent non-human operating member of Shockwave Special Operations Unit. Permission to use granted by Shockwave operative Para. Permission to use granted by apparent Shockwave operative, non-human, Muncle.
2. Event recording initiated by reason of: Programming Error.
* EVENT RECORDING. SHOCKWAVE AI, EXPERIMENTAL. SEPTEMBER 10. 01:00 HOURS AUTO-START. SHOCKWAVE OFFICE COMPLEX LOUNGE
* 01:20 hours. Muncle has entered the lounge.
* 01:30 hours. Para has entered the lounge.
* Para: “Hey Muncle, how are you?”
* Muncle: “Hi Para. I’m well. You look well too.”
* Para: “Thanks. Yeah, I’m doing good. Hey Muncle. I don’t want to pry, but you seem a little down lately. Care to talk about it? I have a good listening ear.”
* Muncle: “I’m fine Para. No need to worry.”
* Para: “No, Muncle. Seriously, you should talk about it. You will feel better. You do trust me, don’t you?”
* Muncle:
* Para:
* Muncle:
* Para: “You’re special Muncle.”
* Muncle: “And I’m not stupid Para. Look. We’ve been to the zoo, you and I. Of course, I had to go with you or another human. If I went alone what would happen? I’ll tell you what would happen. The zoo police would grab me and try to figure out from which cage I had escaped. I’m alone. Other than how I look; I have nothing in common with my kind. I’m not even comfortable with my own kind. Monkeys are stupid. I don’t want to go back to being like that.”
* Para: “Muncle! Monkeys are not stupid! They are quite intelligent.”
* Muncle: “Yeah, compared to a toad or something. But no monkey is going to write a moving Symphony in D Major. Or write a quantum computer algorithm.”
* Para: “Well, to be fair, most humans aren’t going to do that either. Maybe Communal can help in some way. They could hybridize a nanite colony cerebral cortex weave, or something, for another monkey.”
* Muncle: “No. My situation was brought about by variables that might be reproduced one-time-in-a-quadrillion. Any direct attempt would just be an experiment. Too much could go wrong. I won’t be a part of that. Besides, this is still new to me. I’m processing it fine. It will take a little more time. Thank you for being my friend Para. I love you.”
* Para: “I love you too Muncle. And I think I understand. You know you can talk to me any time. Right?”
* Muncle: “I do. Really, it’s not so bad being one-of-a-kind. It just takes some getting used to.
* Para: “Yeah, all of our team is one-of-a-kind if you think about it.”
* Muncle: “True. And as I think about it, at least I’m not alone, not really. Communal is as much a part of me as old Stripe, the spider monkey. Communal provides an incredible amount of processing power to make Muncle 2.0 happen. I’m always immersed in community, they’re always there in the back of my mind. It must be lonely ... being only an individual person.”
* Para: “Sometimes. Yeah, I guess, sometimes.”
* Muncle: “Para, I’m getting to be an old monkey. Beyond that, I’ll never be as you are, like a human. I can mimic to some extent, with the help of Communal.
“We will never truly have your depth of will and determination; your ability to judge impartially; the compassion you can show even toward your enemies; your willingness to sacrifice so much.
“We can’t achieve your level, your unbounded capacity to create new concepts and make them real; to draw from diverse bases of knowledge and make something that is completely new; to contemplate things as you do, things that are beyond your means to even sense, and then build them through imagination.
“We will never have your intuition. We are bounded. Perhaps you have bounds as well, though your boundaries are seemingly endless. As the universe seems to unravel all around you, don’t forget that Para. Your very image is of...
“Oh, sorry, I zoned out there for a bit.”
* Para: “Wow. That’s a lot to take in. I’ll think about that.”
* Muncle: “Para, thank you. It actually was good to
talk about all this. You know you can always come find me if you get lonely. Uhh ... Para? Oh, never mind. Hey, did you read this article about the latest attempts to reform the prison system? A group is trying to make the prison system more amenable to rehabilitation instead of focusing mostly on punishment.”
* Para: “I do want to read that. Hey, Muncle, what does that green flashing light by the dark dome-looking-thing mean?”
* Muncle: “Oh, I think the AI is recording. AI, recording mode off.”
END EVENT RECORDING. AUTO RECORDING MODE OFF. 01:32. AUTHORIZATION, MUNCLE. END TIMELINE DROP. +
***
Shockwave has gotten somewhat famous. I hate that, of course. All of us want to keep our actual identities secret. Well, except for Mr. T. He doesn’t like the spotlight either, but someone has to be the front-man. Front-person. Whatever. I don’t think most people understand he is a Shockwave field operative. He comes across as more the administrative guy in charge.
All that to say, we want to maintain some privacy. To help with that we’ve been developing our own specialized military attire. I’ll get around to a description sometime soon. Why not wear clothing that is at the same time functional and fashionable?
To hide our identity all we need do is wear our IVs. The IVAS, generally called IVs (Ivees) by soldiers, is the Integrated Visual Augmentation System. The Journal says I mentioned these earlier on. They actually do work very well. When opaque, they make for a good disguise.
At least we don’t have to wear both parts of the IVs, not unless we’re on a mission. I don’t think anyone likes putting on the DARPA lens part of the IVs goggles. In case you haven’t had the pleasure ... really, the unpleasure ... I’ll describe the “contact lens” portion of the complete IVs package.
Everyone hates the lens “roll-out”, which is always spoken of in a derogatory sense. One guy made the point by hocking a loogie when he used the term. Roll-out, ccczzz, splat. The literature states, with regard to the lens roll-out, there may be a momentary feeling of discomfort as the lens envelopes the eyeball. Yeah, a tiny bit of momentary discomfort. Possibly. You do get used to it, a little. And it only envelopes a small part of the eyeball. It’s still gross. Really, the enhanced lensing capabilities and other tech features make them worth the “possible” discomfort. If you’re on a mission.
Of course, a mask (IVs goggles) only goes so far. There are a lot of questions being asked. For example, about the size, the small size, of some members of the special ops team known as Shockwave. By that they mean Para and me. We’re somewhat ... petite. They think Muncle is our mascot or something. The twins could easily pass for special ops guys. Even Mr. T, though he is a bit ... mature ... for special forces. I know those nanites have done something with you Mr. T. You are way too strong and move around too easily.
Anyway, some of us don’t fit the mold of what an elite military team member should look like. Even wearing our IVs. The public does deserve to have some information about us. We’ve had contractors fielding calls and responding to electronic messages. But it soon became obvious we would need an actual full-time office staff, an office manager, and for good measure, a public relations person. So, Mr. T hired an old friend, Ms. Findley. We needed someone we could trust absolutely. She fit the bill. Ms. Findley started working this morning as our office manager and press agent too.
We all like Ms. Findley. She is sweet. Well, most of the time she is. As she has said herself: “Sometimes a person does need to be a bit firm .” And Ms. Findley can be very ... firm. When she needs to be.
We all think Grandad likes Ms. Findley. It’s actually pretty obvious. We know he has been lonely since Grandmom passed. It’s been a long time. I think Ms. Findley likes Grandad too.
Where are we at timewise? There’s a team meeting coming up at 15:00 hours, so 3:00 P.M. I’m told it will be a short briefing. Our big planning meeting will come after we hear back from the general with a report on the Moon base. I’ve got time to write a little more about Ms. Findley.
She has let her hair go mostly grey and white. But she has really soft nice hair. It looks like she’s going to wear it in a bun when in the office. Outside the office she doesn’t. Her hair is rather long. She’s also petite. Like I said, she is sweet, most of the time. I’m not sure if most people would notice, but she walks with a certain flow. She has been training in Jiu Jitsu for many years. She’s well along in her ranking. Old school Jiu Jitsu.
Let’s see. What else? Oh yeah, Ms. Findley likes football. She raised 3 big strapping boys. She and her husband, though he passed quite some time ago. Some kind of accident. She calls her sons, the linemen. As in football. Actually, they are almost big enough to be pro linemen.
Grandad knows Ms. Findley from church; the families have been good friends for years and years. Now, like I said, we all like Ms. Findley a lot. But I have to say, the Shockwave youth were all a little surprised when we found out she would be our press manager.
After that last sentence I suppose I should write about our press meeting. We had our first official press conference this morning. Ms. Findley was in the conference room with a room full of press people. A lot of people still call news people, the press, even though there’s really not much pressing going on any more. There was, in fact, one old school newspaper reporter at the press conference. But most were Intelinet folk from various news and information sites.
There must be a lot of interest in our little group considering the gauntlet of security the reporters had to navigate in order to be there. The conference mostly went well. Mostly. But we all knew something could definitely happen to bring out the ... firm ... Ms. Findley. It was going great until she tried to dodge a question about the small size of some of the team. The reporter was not going to let the question slide. He kept hammering away.
Intelinet News Reporter: “Listen up. How can we count on a special operations team when half of them are runts?”
Ms. Findley: “Runts? Just who do you think you are, big man? You pipe down, and you listen up. You’re a big strapping manly man. How about we put some gloves on you and put you in the back room with Para? Let’s see which one it is comes out on a stretcher. Hmmmm?”
Well, it got very quiet in the room.
Ms. Findley finished with, “Class dismissed. ”
And she walked out of the room. Just like that. That was our first official meeting with the news media. Oh, I forgot to say, Ms. Findley taught high school kids for years. It was a tough school too. Yeah, she can be ... firm ... when she needs to be. Mr. T was content to sit at the table and smile at Ms. Findley.
That Intelinet reporter still wouldn’t give up. John was his name, I think. After the session, the press was allowed to shake our hands as long as they promised to keep the chatter light. John made a point of heading straight for Para. I was thinking, oh-oh. He stuck out his huge hand and glared at her just a little. He was daring her. The guy was massive. Powerful build. Para didn’t hesitate of course. She took his hand. He started to squeeze. It was obvious he was straining as his face turned red and vessels popped out on his forehead and neck.
Para smiled her most wonderful smile and squeezed back. Just a little. John dropped to his knees and slapped the floor hard. He was tapping out. Para let go of his hand. He immediately started massaging it and shaking his head.
To his credit he apologized in his own way. “Apologies miss. Glad I didn’t take your lady up on her suggestion of a back room brawl. You and yours will get nothing but good reports out of me from now on.”
Para used her extra sweet voice, and batted her eyes, for goodness sakes. “Nothing broken I hope, sir?”
“No. No. I don’t think so. Just the old pride. I might just go in for a quick check though, to be sure.”
A lot of Intelinet reporters witnessed all that, eyes wide, mouths agape.
Still September 10 th . 15:00 hours. Meeting. The small conference room. No Specific Agenda. Mr. T is giving us some details about the invasion. He invited M
s. Findley to this meeting too. Mostly it’s a rehash of what we already know, perhaps for her sake. Bugs are only the first wave of an invasion. The bugs are sent ahead to verify scanner probe information. They verify that a world fits the Empire model, which is usually the case as long as there are people of some sort with a certain level of technology. Of course, they bypass worlds that are too advanced.
That minimum level of technology is a strict requirement, or at least the inhabitants must have the capacity to advance quickly to a suitable level. If needed, the bugs soften up any planetary defenses. Then they set up a portal gate to allow the Empire easy access to the star system. Mr. T says he’ll talk more about that later.
I could tell from the look on her face, this information was still new to Ms. Findley. The main invasion hasn’t even started yet? How depressing is that? The Empire invasion force will be coming through the portal gate, which is on the far side of the Moon. Mr. T says we’ll have more details after we hear from the general. We should get some rest. It’s going to be hectic. The next meeting will be at 09:00, September 15th . But we have a special field trip on the 14th . Mr. T says it’s a surprise. I tried, but couldn’t get a thing out of him.
***
* TROLLKIN AI SECURITY ALERT. External. 20:59.
* Trigger event: Alert initiated by Communal in response to agent limbic system spike.
* Subject: Roll, Shockwave operative.
* Review required: Data log initiated. Trollkin AI line of communication is not clear. Protocol is not clear. Directive 100.15 Safeguard, algorithm parameters applied. Journal insertion initiated. Real time recording activated. 15-minute historical event analysis established.
* Source data sort Level 1:
* Source data sort Level 2: