“Requisition request?” the voice said.
It was still so familiar. Even in this emergency it nagged at Jacob’s mind. Why couldn’t he place it?
“Weapons!” Owem Gee yelled. “Anything! Get me a beamer, or a corrosion grenade. A-a slug-throwing pistol, for Carter’s sake!”
“Sorry, brah. You just locked yourselves inside the equipment locker. Weapons locker is Echo 6, next door.”
There was a moment of stunned silence. “I don’t gossblume believe it!” Milan screeched. She went after Bitchmurder like it was all her fault. Punching and kicking. Immediately both women collapsed and screamed from the pain of minor blows. By the time they settled down they found Americano quizzing the computer.
“Body armor?” he asked.
“Nah,” the computer said in a tone that suggested a shrug.
“Environment suit?”
“Nah.”
“Go-pad, wrist –buddy model 4S?”
“Got the model 3E.”
“Ugh. Not worth it. Life-force detector?”
“Hand-held or head-mounted?”
“Either!”
A drawer slowly sighed open by itself. Laid inside, along with a carrying case, were four identical units that looked like an old-fashioned cassette tape player.
“How about a pair of pants?” Jacob asked.
“Sorry brah. Didn’t you bring any?”
The others began barraging the hologram with requests and every fourth try a cabinet would open. Jacob didn’t know what most of the items were. “Hey, uh, computer?” he asked.
“Brah?”
“Any camping gear? You know, for people to go camping like they did in the old days.”
“I’ve got a wide selection of electronics however if you want primitive devices I could print you one.”
A whole row of cases folded back, revealing some sort of glass-walled box the size of a car, attached to a series of tanks and weird machines. It was a 3-D printer.
“Can you make, like, an ice-climbing axe?”
The machine whirred to life and a stream of something that was either liquid or very fine particles was blasted into the box while a web of lasers flashed. Almost instantly the machine had created an ice-climbing axe that was deposited in a tray and opened. Jake picked it up. It was heavy, and sharp.
“What’s it made of?”
“Plastec.”
“Plas-what?”
“I kind of hybrid ceramic, strong as steel but easier to manipulate under intense heat of a laser.”
“Can you make me a woodcutting axe? Hatchet?”
The machine whirred to life, blasting dust and lasers into the printer. Two more drawers opened. Jacob thought about it.
“Buck knife? Machete?“ Two more blasts of lasers and two more drawers. The others had noticed what he was doing and had begun retrieving the weapons. “Uh, sledgehammer?” Another flurry of printing.
“Hey, Test Pattern, not bad! Who would have even thought of this old junk? I want to cut down a tree I just kill a powerpack using a UV laser pistol on max charge.”
“Yeah. Score one for the cave-man,” Jones rolled his eyes. “Did you know in his time they were all breeders?”
“What?” Americano paused. “No way.”
“Yeah, yeah, I scanned about this,” Bitchmurder chimed in. “Back before the population hit 16 billion in 2100, they were all breeders, all the time. Men and women, makin babies on their own, unsupervised, Fillin up the muppetin world with muppetin mouths they couldn’t muppetin feed.”
“Ugh,” Milan gagged theatrically. “Can you imagine putting a flesh-nozzle inside you that fills you up with DNA-filled goo? Gross. I heard that at one time men would just squirt their DNA into females and force them to use it to make a baby.”
Jake stared at the other clones. At first he’d thought they were joking, to make fun of him. But they were dead serious. Could they honestly be this ignorant? Then it got worse.
“Not just females. They put goo babies in other men too.”
“Uh, I don’t think it worked that way.”
“Oh yeah genius? Why’d they do it then? Of course the men made goo babies grow in other men. Where do you think draculas and roman gladiators came from?”
“I heard it was eggs.”
Owen gee had been growing more agitated by the argument and finally loudly interrupted. “The teachings of the Martian Buddha clearly state that babies are created by the ood in the personscopic ectoplasm of dimension 88 through adherence to the 1001 reeds of carterism. That’s what caused the down fall of civilization, machine-created babies without meditative pernoscope over the brood decanter five times a day produced children with partial or even entirely missing souls.”
“Oh great, we’ve got a bible thumper,” Jones rolled his eyes.
“Shut up, blasphemer!” Owem Gee was genuinely enraged, fists clenched on a sledgehammer, eyes wide with fury.
Jacob had heard enough. “What are you even talking about? That’s not how sex works!”
“Oh, then tell us, cave-man your ancient primitive wisdom. Probably used leaches to cure it. Nobody cares how you used to do things in the dinosaur age! There’s this thing called technology, now. Next thing you’ll be telling us all about how food should be grown in dirt and we should all poop in bowls like monkeys in the primate zoo using their hands to squeeze their genitals.”
For a moment Jacob forgot there was a huge bug-monster waiting for them and they all might die at any moment. “You’re saying,” Jacob tried not to get angry. “Nobody even has reproductive sex where you’re from?”
“Make a baby?” Bitchmurder snarled. “You trying to say my reproductive rights are more important than my equality? Huh ganz?”
“Nobody makes babies anymore,” Milan rolled her eyes. “That’d be like, making your own hovercar. You buy them, already made.”
“Nobody has sex at all, you disgusting primitive. Nobody has even had virtual reality coitus in, like, a hundred years. Can you imagine? It’d be like someone else chewing your food and barfing it into your mouth! Ughhh!”
“Yeah, well,” Jacob felt his anger rising at the insults of these ignorant, useless fuckups. “Good luck, because you idiots are supposed to repopulate the earth.”
“Pfft, get looped. As if!”
“Yeah, well ask Jones why you don’t have tinglers anymore. The computer told us he took them away.”
For a moment doubt showed in Milan’s eyes. “Jones, what the goss is this loop ganz talking about?”
Jones looked miserable. “It’s not lying,” he said quietly. “The computer said so, while you were in the machines.”
There was bedlam among the remaining clones. The five of them set to arguing, blaming, and in Milan’s case, crying.
Jake decided to ask something with more intelligence. “Uh, Computer? What is a tingler? And why are they so upset?”
“Tingler is the common term for Trauma Interface and Gratification Regulator. In the 23rd century all citizens had them implanted before birth. It is an implanted bio-organic device designed to supersede the sensory and pain receptors of the human nervous system.”
“To do what? Why?”
“Through adjustment of intensity levels, the device modifies pain signals to appropriate levels. Humans evolved to use pain as a warning signal for physical trauma, but pain management became a problematic barrier to society when it no longer served a purpose. The Tingler was created to remove pain from human experience where not necessary.”
“No shit.”
“Subsequent developments in the technology led to the discovery of it’s uses as a simulated conduit to the pleasure center. Within a decade it had replaced virtually all forms of physical intimacy.”
“Wait, what?”
“The lack of pleasure stimuli had caused innumerable crimes throughout human civilization. Simply liberating humanity from the need to seek gratification elsewhere led to the eradication of most crime and social s
trife.”
Suddenly it all started to make sense. Not just why the clones couldn’t take a hit, but their weird insults and strange attitudes. They were asexual! “Holy shit. Why would guys even get out of bed in the morning, work at jobs they hate and buy expensive cars if they don’t need to try to get laid?”
“You are referring to Hensham and Shaw’s hypothesis. They noted a downward trend in innovation and economic growth commensurate with the decline of crime and gender-based violence.”
“Oh my god,” Jake said, appalled.
The clones had been listening to the exchange, terrified by the confirmation of their worst fears.
“Yeah, you gossblume muppet hole! So why remove it?” Bitchmurder screamed, sobbing.
Jake tried to picture it. Being able to replace all intimacy with direct stimulation of the brain. Never feeling pain, feeling as much pleasure as you wanted. And then suddenly discovering it was gone. It would be like having your dick chopped off and dunked in salt water.
The computer voice spoke in a maddeningly calm reply. “Clause 52(k)1, FDAS-7 of your contract with the Tomorrow Program states that in the event of catastrophic depletion of the world’s population, population replenishments would need to be prioritized.”
“What?’
Jake grinned despite the impending death by mutant superbug. Now it was his turn to enjoy the irony.
“I think it means as a failsafe you guys need to make babies the old-fashioned way.” Jake smirked at their silent horror. “Better hope the ice caps didn’t melt,” he laughed. “Or we’ll all have gills. Or maybe blowholes. Speaking of sex and blowholes, did you know dolphins fuck each other in the blowhole?”
“You’re disgusting!” Americano said.
“Keep it in your pants, Test Pattern,” Bitchmurder threatened.
“What pants?”
“Don’t make me put the hurt on you,” the clone growled.
“First of all, I’m the only one of you who won’t piss themselves in pain if you stub your toe, so good luck trying that. Second, I’m just sayin, for all we know we’re what’s left of humanity. What if there’s not any human women left on the surface?” Jacob asked.
“Women?” Jones stared at him. Made a gagging sound. “You mean… what are you, some kind of pervert?”
But before Jacob could be insulted again the door shuddered under a heavy blow and the conversation was over. The monster was done waiting and trying to bash its way in. The clones scrambled to arm themselves and Jacob turned back to the hologram.
“Uh, computer? Signal devices!” he demanded. “Full inventory. And uh, can you make a nautical line launcher?”
“Only a mechanically powered one.”
“That’ll do. Diving gear too?”
As the printer whirred into motion, and drawers opened, Jake collected items. The door was being hammered continually now. It showed a dent along one side. Then a pair of massive organic scythes worked their way around the edge and began forcing it open inch by inch.
“I aint goin out like this!” Bitchmurder charged.
She started swinging sledge-hammer blows at the sword limbs with the prybar, that did nothing but further smash the door open. She staggered back as it was wrenched apart and the horrific giant bug crouched low to see inside the room.
It looked like some sort of praying mantis, but only if it were praying for death and dismemberment; a preying mantis. Six legs, walking on four and the uppermost ended in long ripping scimitars of chitin. The huge multifaceted eyes set wide on the triangular head. It fluttered its wing carapace in anticipation and lowered its eight-foot height to fit inside the door.
A two-foot arrow hit the creature a glancing blow off one eye before it bounced off the doorframe and back into the room The nightmare bug recoiled, shaking and twitching its head, and Jacob loaded another bolt into the crossbow-like line-launcher. Feeding a two-foot long rod capped by a blunted three-prong grapnel into the barrel he raised it to his shoulder.
The clones scattered as he fired again; whkung and the line-launcher projectile took the creature in the thorax. Grapnel and a foot of shaft vanished inside the body, trailing a strand of thin plastec line.
This time it did back off, retreating into the hall and trailing yellowy ichor and unspooling line. Then it took off at a run. Too late Jacob realised he’d braced the line-launcher’s carrying strap around his forearm for a better shooting stance and as the line played out, he was yanked off his feet, collided painfully with Americano’s legs and even more painfully with the doorframe before he was body-dragged down the hallway.
He didn’t get untangled until after the first turn of the corridor and gracelessly scrambled to his feet. His shoulder – unbroken – felt like it had been dislocated. The bare skin on half his body had been friction burned down to a single, bleeding scab. And the creature had stopped and was prowling back towards him from further up the corridor.
Jacob took the only weapon he had left from the belt he’d clipped around his bare waist. Unfolded the six-inch utility knife one-handed and crouched, facing it. The blade felt like a nail file compared to the creature’s scythe-like arms. The bug advanced until it was only ten feet away. Cocked its head like a dog and shuddered.
“Come on you cunt. Let’s get it over with,” Jake grated.
One small part of him amazed that he wasn’t simply running as fast as he could. Then he remembered the genetic modifications he’d just had. Top of the list was modified fight or flight reaction. Yeah. That would explain it.
The creature struck. So did Jacob. He died, it didn’t.
***
Chapter 5
: Because That’s How You Get Atomic Superbugs
The loading screen was different. No more ski-lodge, just a girl’s locker room from his highschool. Oh man, now what?
Circe bounded into the room with a set of pom-poms and in a very short cheerleading outfit. Belatedly Jake remembered his crush on Julie Obrien in his sophomore year. If Circe was scanning his memories for previous sexual fixations she would certainly have discovered the dozens, if not hundreds, of hours he had spent fantasizing about ‘Ginger’ Julie.
“Oh Jacob,” Circe said. “I’ve just broken up with my boyfriend. You were right, he was a jerk, and now I can admit how much I like you!”
“Circe, stop,” Jake interrupted. This was weird. “I have to go back. Fast as possible!”
Circe seemed crestfallen. “You don’t like it?”
“It’s, oh god, it’s not that, exactly. There’s this monster bug thing, it just killed me, again! And if I don’t get back soon it will kill everyone. I don’t care about those other bastards but I am sick and tired of that motherfucking bug ripping my head off!”
“Oh!” Circe stopped, nodding in concern. “I’m so sorry, Jacob, of course! That type of attack needs an immediate response. No wonder they had me deliver Squad Leader Cockfiend, despite his… condition.”
At first he couldn’t believe she was so quick to agree. He halfway expected this was a sarcastic response and any moment Circe would launch into a furious tirade about making up excuses not to see her. But after waiting a long moment for the shoe to drop and it didn’t, Jake realized she was being sincere. Hell, maybe in the future that produced Circe, giant carnivorous bugs were commonplace.
“Quick, follow me!” Circe took his hand.
Leading him from the locker room they exited the door not into the gymnasium Jake would have expected, but a huge, black space with walls of scrolling computer code. The code seemed to form gigantic rectangles that went up so high they vanished from sight, so it felt like they had stepped into the street of a city at night, with huge skyscrapers of moving data vanishing in either direction.
The ground under them seemed to move, like one of those slidewalks at the airport, or maybe the skyscrapers of colored data were the ones moving… it was impossible to tell. Either way Circe led him forward and the skyscrapers began to dim, and go dark, one by one. Unti
l they were heading towards a single tower of data that pulsed blue, swollen with code, burning brighter and brighter.
“I’m diverting processing power to your file conversion and upload,” Circe said. “You’ll be ready in moments.”
Jacob didn’t know quite what to say. And he was feeling lightheaded, and dizzy. Circe turned to embrace him, her body in its cheerleader uniform entirely out of place in the cyberspace dreamscape.
“Take care,” she whispered.
And with a sinking feeling like he was being sucked down a whirlpool, the place vanished and Jacob was gone.
***
The black metal tube.
“You have been debited 5 points from your insurance,” the female voice of Circe informed him. “Your policy clearly states that multiple liability claims carry reduced impact on your premiums and we have awarded a two-point discount based on sub clause 3b, section 1). Enjoy your next life.”
He came out of the chute into the angry flashing of red light.
Back in the same decanting room. It was exactly as he’d seen it last time except the K-kit was emptied and he was not alone. A single clone was in the foetal position in the corner. The naked man was sucking his thumb and whimpering.
“What the fuck?” Jacob backed away then forced himself to move closer and inspect the cowering figure. “Let me guess: squad leader Cockfiend. Boy, there were really no fucks given when they sent you back in, were there?”
Jake snapped his fingers in front of the man’s face, but he only rocked back and forth, didn’t look him in the eye.
“What kind of name is Cockfiend, anyway?” he muttered to himself.
Whatever or whoever was responsible for ordering Circe to bring Jake back to life must’ve been desperate if it kept resurrecting this slobbering madman too. But that meant if he and the squad leader were already back, that sub-officer Whiteman, who’d been killed before Jacob was, should’ve come back too.
So where was Whiteman?
How to Beat Tomorrow Page 5
