Seed

by Michael Edelson

  “Ten!” Winters shouted and jumped up, running towards the second Bradley.

  Alex’s heart beat so fast and hard that he swore its motion was causing his hands to shake. He counted to three, then gunned the throttle as hard as he could. He remembered fooling around in the motor pool parking lot after the NCOs left. Bradley racing had been a popular pastime. He knew how the vehicle performed, he just hoped this one was not too far out of spec. Or damaged. Or any number of things that could hose his plan and kill them all.

  The Bradley surged forward, accelerating steadily. It was capable of forty miles per hour, though it would take much more space than he had here to reach that. It wouldn’t matter, whatever speed it could reach would do.

  The top of the tank crested the edge of the lift cavity just as Alex lost sight of it, the angle too great to see through his hatch’s tiny view port. He felt more than he saw that menacing 120mm cannon rise above the lift wall, ready to fire.

  The thirty ton Bradley fighting vehicle, moving at a good fifteen miles per hour, crashed into the front of the M1 Abrams tank. The tank’s protruding cannon crumpled under the force of the impact.

  The tank gunner fired, unaware of what had happened. A flash of brilliance, then blackness.

  Chapter 35

  “Wake up!” someone shouted, and Alex felt a sting as a hand swept across his face. He looked around, unsure of where he was. It looked like the inside of a Bradley, but it was undamaged. It had to be the one he hadn’t crashed into a tank. There was also the sensation of downward movement.

  “What happened?” Alex asked as he sat up. He held his hands in front of his face to make sure they were still there, then checked the rest of him. He seemed to be in one piece.

  “You crazy son of a bitch!” the major shouted, grinning wildly. “You did it! I thought I lost you for a second, but the piece of shit aluminum armor held. The tank took the worst of it. I’ve never seen such a ballsy fucking move.”

  “We’re moving down?” Alex asked. “How?” The back of the hatch was open and several men stood outside. He could see the walls of the lift cavity rolling slowly upwards. Very slowly, much more so than he expected.

  “Gravity,” Terkeurst explained. “The bastards powered down the lift again, but we crammed two Bradleys on it with what’s left of the tank, and it’s too much weight. Without power, they can’t activate the brake, and if they power it up, Linnard will take control.”

  “Cool,” Alex said, not sure of what else to say.

  “If we survive this,” the major said. “I’m going to pin a medal on your chest.”

  “Thank you sir,” Alex said. “But I don’t think we will. The second we get down there they’re going to open up on us with whatever other tanks they have down there.”

  “I know, son, I know. Now get your ass behind that cannon. We’re going to go down shooting.”

  “Yes sir.” Alex climbed into the gunner’s seat. It was identical to that of the other Bradley, but someone had left a picture of a pretty young woman stuck behind the edge of a control panel. Alex wondered if she was alive down there, or if she’d been killed outside with the rest of humanity.

  The radio headset crackled to life. Surprised, Alex reached for it and put it on.

  “I repeat,” a voice said. “Unidentified hostile forces, this is General Roberts, United States Army.”

  “What the fuck?” Alex said. “Sir, there’s someone on the radio!” He didn’t expect this, and it wasn’t good. It was easy to kill men whose faces they couldn’t see. Alex hadn’t seen enough in Afghanistan to break him, but he had known people who had. If they put faces and names to these American soldiers, it would be the same as taking a bullet to the brain, only slower.

  “Give me that,” the major said quickly to one of the others, then grabbed and hastily donned the offered headset.

  “This is Major Ron Terkeurst,” he said. “To whom am I speaking?”

  “Lieutenant General Christopher Roberts,” the man on the other end said. “Commander of the United States Army. I order you to stand down immediately, major, and surrender.”

  Christopher Roberts? Kristoff, Bob? A bad omen, if anything. But still, a voice, a name, but no face.

  “We have no intention of surrendering,” the major said.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the general demanded. “The President is in this complex! The President of the United States!”

  “We’re aware of that,” the major continued. “That’s why we’re here. We know who is responsible for all this, and I’m sure you do too, so cut the shit. They have to pay for what they’ve done.”

  “What the hell is he talking about?” a background voice asked. It sounded familiar.

  “Nothing,” the general said sternly. “Cut the connection.”

  On a sudden impulse, Alex pressed the transmit button and said, “Who said that? Do I know you?”

  “I said cut the connection, colonel!” the general barked.

  “Sir I know that voice,” the other man said, and the familiarity struck Alex almost as hard as he had hit the tank.

  “Lieutenant Campbell?” Alex asked. “Bill? Is that you?”

  “Alex?” Nothing more. The connection was severed.

  “Who is Lieutenant Campbell?” Terkeurst demanded.

  “Holy shit!” Alex said. “It was him! He was my platoon commander in OPFOR! What the hell are the odds?” And that was that. Alex had killed Campbell’s men. Campbell used to be his platoon leader, so Campbell’s men were Alex’s men. He could already start to feel that fragile part of his mind letting go. It manifested as a tension, a tightening deep in his chest, while his mind flailed like a drowning child, desperate to grab hold of something. But there was nothing to latch onto. It was making it hard to concentrate, hard for his eyes to focus. A fog settled over the world, swirling in rhythm to the flailing of his mind. He was slipping. What if they were wrong? What if Tom made a mistake? What if these people were not the ones responsible? That last question called a sense of dread out of the abyss of Alex’s subconscious, a monster that clawed its way to the surface of his mind, ripping him apart on the way up.

  The lift continued to descend slowly, buying them time. If only he could talk to Bill, convince him. Alex was sure he would listen. Then no one else had to die. But his grasp on sanity was dropping faster than the lift was. He had massacred his own brothers and sisters. How much longer would he be able to hold it together? A part of him didn’t want to talk to Bill, and he didn’t understand why.

  “Was he smart, this Lieutenant of yours?” the major asked, thankfully breaking Alex’s chain of thought.

  “Campbell? Yeah, he was a lazy genius. I guess that explains why they picked him…he must have aced their test.” It was strange, hearing himself speak. He sounded normal. Not at all like a man who eagerly awaited the thunder of 120mm tank cannons to end his pain.

  The radio crackled to life. “This is Colonel Campbell. Alex, is that you?”

  “Bill! It’s good to hear your voice!” Only it wasn’t. Why wasn’t it?

  “You too, Alex. We’ve…detained the general. You’ve got two minutes to explain why the hell you’re attacking my facility, Alex, and it better be good, because a lot of my men are dead.”

  Alex looked at the major questioningly. He couldn’t explain. He wasn’t up to it. He didn’t want to. Why didn’t he want to?

  “It’s your show, son,” Terkeurst said. “You started this, now finish it.”

  “I—” Alex started to protest, tried to find the words to explain what he was feeling, and suddenly, everything became clear. Since he had set out on his mission of vengeance, his emotions had undulated like a roller coaster. Peaks of fear and hope paired with deep valleys of self pity or bone weary resignation. He wanted to live, he was ready to die, then he wanted to live again. But now he realized that all of that led to a single truth. And with that realization, the maelstrom in his mind calmed, and all was still. He sa
w the face of the monster that had risen from the depths of his soul. It was his own face. He was the monster. How could he not have known, all this time?

  He didn’t want to talk to Bill, didn’t want to explain, and he understood why. He understood why he had gone off alone on a fool’s errand, a hopeless mission that everyone with any sense had tried to talk him out of, that Yael had tried reason, extortion, manipulation and finally begging to keep him from undertaking. It all made sense.

  Alex wanted to die.

  He had kept telling himself that he hadn’t seen enough in Afghanistan, not like others. Not like the broken men and women who feared the night, because it meant they would be alone with their demons. Alone with themselves. No, he had told himself, he wasn’t like them. But he had lied. He told himself that he had only killed people at a distance, not seeing their faces, but he saw them. Eventually, he saw them. Distorted, bloated, collapsed, hollow, ragged faces. Entrails and severed limbs. And not just those of the enemy.

  When he killed Max and his goons, when he caved in Bob’s skull with the butt of his rifle, he hadn’t lost his soul, because it had already been lost. All he had done was drive the proverbial last nail into the coffin of his shattered humanity. He hadn’t come to this place to get revenge, except maybe upon himself. He had come to end the suffering. To end his life.

  “Alex?” Terkeurst said, narrowing his eyes.

  “I—” The perspective shift was startling. Just a few seconds ago he was a brash young soldier, a superstar, someone who had all the answers, someone who always did the right thing, looked out for others, handled problems. Now he was a broken thing, a fool, and a coward. He wanted death, because he had nothing left to live for, no strength left to go on. And with that realization came something unexpected. Anger. Anger at the world for being such shit. Anger at himself for volunteering for military service at a time when his country didn’t need him, didn’t need the wars it was fighting. Anger at his failure to deal with what he had seen, what he had felt, failure to seek help, to accept himself as he was instead of lamenting the loss of who he had been. Anger at his betrayal of the woman who cared for him more than he deserved.

  I don’t know about you, but when I told you I loved you I meant that I’m with you, always, no matter what.

  Yael had pledged her life to him, and he had left her. If there was anything in this world still worth living for, she was it. And he had just walked away.

  “What’s wrong, son?” Terkeurst said.

  “Nothing,” Alex said. “Not anymore.” His fists trembled with barely suppressed rage. He would not die today, even if he had to kill every last motherfucker in this complex. President, general, everyone. He had spent years fucking up, and it was time to make everything right. He would live, and he would come back to her, no matter what.

  He took a deep breath to calm himself, then spoke into the radio. “Bill. What did they tell you? About what happened.”

  “It was a Chinese attack,” Campbell said. “Nanorobotic weapon. Destroyed most of the world, we nuked the rest in retaliation.”

  “You buy that?” he asked. There was a pause.

  “It has its problems,” Campbell admitted.

  “Like how they managed to set up hundreds of colonies across the world, just in time?”

  “That does stretch their credibility a tad, yes.”

  “It’s bullshit, Bill,” Alex continued. “It was them, they did it. They released the weapon, spread it through the airports. And it’s not even a fucking weapon, it’s a god damned waste disposal system.”

  “I’d like to believe you Alex,” Campbell said. “But you’re asking too much. How can you possibly know any of this?”

  “It’s all on your computers,” Alex said. “We have a hacker, he got into the servers. You can find it there.”

  “We don’t have access to most of the data on those servers, Alex. And I’m sorry, I can’t just take your word for it. Not this time.”

  Alex was about to say something, try to reason with his friend, then reconsidered. He had an idea. It was desperate, and it probably wouldn’t work, but it was their best bet. If it worked, it would give him validation. If he was going to make a life for himself with Yael, he needed to make peace with what had happened here. What was still happening. He needed to know that he had done the right thing. Maybe if he had that much, that certainty that there had been no other choice, then just maybe he would find a way to live with himself. But if he couldn’t get Bill to believe him, to accept what he had done, then it wouldn’t matter what happened next.

  “Can you communicate with the colonies?”

  “I don’t know,” Campbell said. “Give me a sec.”

  Agonizing seconds passed before he returned. “Yes we can. Why?”

  “Send a message to the 103-B governor’s terminal. Ask for someone named Tom. Tell him that Alex wants him to give you access to the data you need to learn the truth.”

  “There isn’t time!” Terkeurst protested. “If Tom isn’t at that computer right now, at this very moment, then there’s no way the message will reach him in time!”

  “It’s our only chance,” Alex said. It’s my only chance.

  “Message sent,” Campbell said. “But it’s a text thing, like email. It could take him hours, or days to get…what the fuck? Hold on, Alex.”

  Alex exchanged nervous glances with the major.

  “Apparently,” Campbell said. “Your guy is sitting at the terminal right now.”

  Alex closed his eyes, but not soon enough to keep the warm sticky tears from sliding down his dust covered face.

  “We just got a reply,” Campbell continued. “He said to hold on. Alex, I don’t know what—”

  The radio died.

  “Bill? Are you there?”

  “He’s gone,” the major said. “They either cut power to the radio or the general got ‘un-detained.’”

  “We were so close!” Alex said. “So fucking close!”

  “Get ready. We’re going to be down soon. Take out as many of those guys as you can.”

  “Yes sir,” Alex said, and looked at the photo of the young woman. He didn’t see her face. He saw Yael instead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never should have left.” He could have skipped the mission and been happy, lived with the woman he loved and never looked back. He had been such a fool.

  The lift lowered itself out of its shaft and sank toward the floor of a humongous chamber filled with tanks and APCs standing in neat rows. An area had been cleared near the lift and three Abrams tanks, engines idling, stood with their turrets tracking the sinking platform.

  “Fire!” the major ordered. “Let’s take them out!” An impossible task, but he might as well try.

  Alex grabbed the turret controls and brought the Bradley’s gun as close to the active tanks as the angle would allow, preparing to fire the TOW missile. He doubted he had the sixty five meters he needed, but maybe it would work anyway. In any case, he had nothing to lose. Men jumped out the back of the Bradley, their weapons barking as they laid down suppressive fire and moved into position at the rim of the lift.

  Small arms fire peppered the APC like torrential hail as Alex swept the turret across the inactive tanks in the background. The 25mm gun thundered and bright spots of light flashed in his vision as the lift platform shook with the force of detonating HE rounds. The 25mm gun wouldn’t hurt the tanks, but if there were dismounts taking cover among them, the exploding rounds would tear them apart. Alex could tell that just a few more seconds would bring them low enough to intersect the arc of the lead Abrams’ main guns, and then it would be over. He didn’t know why they hadn’t armed the more distant tanks, as those would have already been able to fire, but he suspected it had something to do with the infrastructure that would be behind them at this angle.

  The pounding of the small arms fire against the Bradley’s armor cut out suddenly and Campbell’s voice roared through their headsets.

  “Cease fire!
” he shouted. “Cease fire! The tanks have been ordered to hold their fire, my men are pulling back. Hold your fire!”

  “Hold your fire!” Terkeurst screamed back as loud as he could. “Hold your fire! Stop shooting goddammit!”

  Alex saw Campbell and a group of soldiers armed with rifles but not wearing body armor run out into the open area of the hangar. Campbell was waving his rifle with a white t-shirt tied to the muzzle like a flag.

  When the platform came to a stop, Alex and the major climbed out of the Bradley and walked up to meet Campbell. The rest of the assault team spread out behind them, their weapons at the ready.

  “Alex,” Campbell said, and stepped forward to embrace him. Alex clasped his arms around his friend and hugged him tightly.

  “It’s good to see you, Bill!”

  “What’s going on here?” the major demanded.

  “I’ve got control of this area,” Campbell explained. “Your guy came through. He gave us access to the specs for the weapon. That’s all we really needed to see. I can’t believe they did this. I just fucking can’t.”

  “They did it,” Alex said.

  “Yeah, I know. That’ why I’m with you. I have nine men here, they’re yours. Four more in the personnel quarters on their way here, if they can make it. The rest won’t play ball. They didn’t see the evidence and I guess they don’t trust me enough to believe me.”

  “That leaves eighteen,” the major said.

  “Sixteen,” Campbell corrected. “I didn’t count myself, and you didn’t count the general. He’s indisposed.” He looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Forget the tanks, fall in on me.” The tank motors cut off as soldiers began to climb out, three from each one.

  “You’re in command of the op, major,” Campbell said. “I have no idea what’s going on here.” He turned to Alex. “Let’s go make them pay.”

  “Colonel,” one of the soldiers came forward with a radio. “It’s over, sir.”

  “What the hell do you mean, it’s over?” Campbell demanded.

  “The president, he shot himself.”

  “Coward!” the major growled, and spat over his shoulder.