The Slave Warrior

by Marilyn Donnellan

  Sandra nodded her agreement. Brogan’s message to the general was concise: “Changing course to Boston Harbor. Will attempt to assassinate target. Send word to Mouse and BL members in Boston.”

  When the lieutenant returned to the bridge, the captain pulled up a route through the St. Lawrence Seaway to take them through the old locks and around Niagara Falls.

  “Because we must travel at night to avoid being seen by Americans, it will increase the amount of travel time,” the captain indicated.

  She showed Brogan and Sandra a map of St. Lawrence Seaway on a hologram highlighting the route from Sault Ste. Marie to Buffalo, NY, on to Montreal, Quebec, and finally to the Seven Islands area, about 1,550 miles. The longest leg of the journey would be from Seven Islands, through the Gulf of St. Lawrence, east to the Atlantic and southwest to the Boston Harbor, another 2,700 miles.

  “Since we are nuclear powered, we can make about 25 knots, under ideal conditions, so the trip would ordinarily take about six days. However, some of the trip must be done on the surface since the channel east of Montreal is too shallow for us to navigate under water. So, we’ll have to double the time needed since we can only travel at night above water. It means at least twelve days, if all goes well. We should figure at least two weeks or fifteen days’ total travel time.” The captain sat back in her chair and looked at Brogan and Sandra with a grim face.

  “Okay, let’s get this tin can docked, loaded and ready to go. I appreciate your offer earlier of assistance. If you can help load supplies, we will get out of the harbor faster. Lieutenant add these two to your duty roster for daily assignments while we head for Boston. I might also recommend the two of you continue to include your sparring and weight training in your daily schedule. Not only will it help pass the time, but it will help to prepare you for whatever happens in Boston. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to move my lady into the harbor.”

  Brogan started to exit the bridge when Sandra grabbed her arm. She turned and saw Sandra’s face held an expression she had not seen before: excitement, surprise, she wasn’t sure.

  “What is it, Sandra?”

  Sandra turned back to the captain and motioned for her to push the hologram button again.

  “You want me to pull the map back up?” the captain asked. Sandra nodded excitedly.

  The holo floated in front of them. Sandra pointed to a spot in the map and drew her finger south, over land to Boston. Puzzled for a moment, Brogan and the captain looked at each other as they realized exactly what Sandra suggested.

  “I don’t know why I didn’t consider it,” Brogan said as she slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Of course, Captain. If you can transfer us as far as Montreal and disable the laser fence somewhere along the American side of the river bank, Sandra and I can travel to Boston much faster.”

  The captain hadn’t said anything, but she followed Sandra’s suggestion and pointed to the various spots on the map as distances appeared above each spot she pointed to.

  “The overland distance from Montreal to Boston is a little less than 300 miles. If we follow the original seaway route we discussed, it is more than 4,000 miles to the same spot.”

  The captain turned to Sandra. “Good work, Sandra. Typical seaman, I thought only of the seaway route and didn’t even consider the shortest distance. Now, the question is, how will you travel from the drop off point to Boston?”

  Brogan laughed. “Easy, captain. You are forgetting we have Book Liberator cells in every province. No doubt we’ll easily find help.”

  She turned to Sandra. “Great work, Sandra. Your route will cut critical days from our journey, increasing the likelihood we can stop Priest before he goes too far in developing a nuclear bomb.”

  Sandra shrugged her shoulders. A bit embarrassed by the attention, she still seemed pleased she could contribute to the planning.

  Once the submarine docked at Sault Ste. Marie port, they loaded additional supplies on board and, within a few hours, they were underway. Instead of a trip of over 4,000 miles and two weeks, they should be at the drop off point near Montreal in less than three days.

  Brogan sent another message to Marco, asking him to immediately forward messages to any BL cells across the seaway from Montreal, telling them they needed assistance. Marco sent a message to General Veracruz to let him know where the warriors were headed. Apparently, there was a way to stop Emperor Priest from destroying America, but it depended on two White Warriors who had once been sworn enemies.

  Chapter Eight

  Plans to Thwart Plans

  Claudette watched out of the corner of her eye as Emperor Priest stood nose to nose with the new head of the public relations department. The emperor was shaking with rage. Hugh Bonnard was the third public relations director in the past year. No one knew for sure what happened to the other two. Anytime Priest didn’t like the vid news he took it out on those around him. Unfortunately, the public relations director often received the brunt of the emperor’s rage since Consort Sandra disappeared several years earlier. Now the emperor was livid the rebels seemed to be overriding his messages and broadcasting their own messages to citizens.

  The emperor’s two elite cyborg units stood close to him, ready to respond in case anyone dared to threaten him. The robotic units stood more than seven-feet tall and were heavily armored. They looked like something from an old scientific comic book Claudette remembered reading as a child. She did not know if they were cyborg (part human and part artificial intelligence), or totally AI robotic units. Their faceplates reflected light, so it was impossible to see what, if anything, was behind them.

  Claudette saw them respond to a perceived threat almost a year before, when an assassin tried to kill Priest at an event. She was shocked at how fast they moved. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would take to put them out of commission.

  She continued to focus blindly on the vid-screen in front of her, rather than give any indication she paid any attention to what was happening across the room. Everyone else in the room did the same thing, collectively holding their breaths expectantly.

  But no one expected what happened. Suddenly, the emperor gestured with his hand and one of the cyborg units grabbed the PR director by the neck, lifting him off his feet. Hugh’s face quickly turned blue and his feet began to jerk frantically. Within seconds his body stopped jerking. Without a word, the emperor turned around and left. The cyborg unit carried Hugh over to the recycle bin and tossed his body down the shaft. Just before the emperor left the room, he turned around and looked at the shocked staff.

  In a rage-filled voice, he said, “And that’s exactly what is going to happen to rebels when my new cyborg army gets ahold of them or anyone else who is a supporter of them. And just wait until I hit them with nuclear weapons.”

  Total, shocked silence filled the room after the emperor and his cyborg units left. Claudette carefully looked around her and saw pale and shaky people, trying to continue doing whatever they had been doing before the emperor arrived just moments before. The room stayed deathly silent the rest of the day.

  Claudette waited until back in her apartment at 5:30 pm to make her daily vid-phone chat to her Aunt Pat in Dallas, carefully incorporating a hidden message to General Veracruz, informing him of the death of the PR director by the cyborg, the emperor’s threats to the rebels with a cyborg army, and his continued reference to nuclear weapons.

  The general was on his motorcycle on the way back to Laredo from the Battle of Austin to supervise the moving of civilians and rebels to their pre-arranged new locations. His communication aide pulled up beside him and informed him he had another encrypted message from Mouse. He stopped his cycle and read the printed message: Priest building cyborg army to eliminate rebel forces; threatens nuclear weapons.

  After the news, reinforcing what Mouse had already told them, the general increased his speed and soon arrived at Laredo headquarters. He sent out an alert for an emergency meeting of the council and his military t
eam. He impatiently paced the floor of headquarters as they arrived.

  “It’s not good news,” the general told the group without preamble. “Priest’s two cyborg units are apparently the prototype for a whole new army. Their first orders will be the elimination of our rebel forces. And, he really is going to attempt to build nuclear weapons.”

  He looked around at the familiar faces, the shock on their faces matching his own disbelief. A few minutes of silence was followed by rising murmurs of fear.

  “I know. I know. But now is not the time for panic. We must keep our heads and figure out what this means and how we are going to deal with both threats. We are already working on some strategies against the nuclear threat. Now need to talk about how to respond to the cyborg units, if Priest succeeds in building an army of them.”

  “Max, did you have any experience during the war with AI or cyborg units?”

  “No, I didn’t, General.”

  “Sir,” a voice spoke up from the back of the room, a quiet engineer whose name the general did not remember. “My name is Scott Hanson. I remember my father talking about an experimental program during the last war. Something about virtually indestructible AI or cyborg units being developed as warriors. I can’t recall which.”

  “Do you recall, Scott, where the research was done, or if there are written or vid-plans anywhere?”

  “No, sir. But I can talk to him. He’s still alive. He’s on age-enhancement drugs and lives in California Province. He’s retired but I can reach out to him.”

  “Great. That’s probably where we need to start. Why don’t you go to the com room and see if you can get ahold of him right now? Use BL codes. I am assuming he knows them?”

  Scott nodded.

  “Anyone else with suggestions?”

  Discussion continued for an hour, but when the general realized they were getting nowhere, he called an end to the meeting. He suggested the citizen council continue implementation of their plans to move as many residents as possible further south into rural areas. He asked the military team to stay to discuss military strategies.

  While folks milled around, General Veracruz suddenly remembered Brogan and Sandra were on their way to Boston; they had no idea what they were getting into. He called over his com officer.

  “Jim, you have to try and reach Brogan and communicate this info to her ASAP. Send messages to BL cells all along their route, telling her to contact me before they enter the emperor’s pyramid. Go. Quickly.”

  “Yes, sir,” he saluted and turned smartly, heading for the com building on the run.

  How in the world would the women deal with virtually indestructible cyborg units? True, only two cyborgs existed now, but obviously, Priest intended to build more. A whole army of AI or cyborgs was a whole lot scarier than a single emperor like Priest.

  The general realized he could drive himself nuts with “what if” scenarios. He needed action. With long strides, he walked over to the com building with his aide trying to keep up, hoping Jim had managed to reach Brogan. He opened the door and looked around. Jim sat perched on the edge of a chair, frantically trying to send a message via vid-phone. He saw Scott on another vid-phone talking intently.

  “What’s the matter, Jim?” General Veracruz asked.

  “Something’s jamming the signal, General. Nothing is going through.”

  “Impossible. There is no way Priest figured out our frequency, especially since we change it every day. Try again.”

  Jim turned back to the vid-phone. “I’ll see if I can send a message to Mouse through Aunt Pauline. It is a totally different frequency than we use for BL cells.”

  After several tries, Jim leaned back. “Good. That one went through. The emperor might be using cyborg units or AIs to figure out ways to stop communications on the other frequency. Or, maybe they are just jamming frequencies arbitrarily, hoping to hit the right one.”

  “What did you tell Aunt Pauline?”

  “I asked her to tell Claudette her friend Brogan is coming to town and would love to see her. I said I was Brogan’s brother and I lost Claudette’s vid-phone number. Hopefully she’ll buy it. I also said Claudette should call me for details, giving Aunt Pat my number.”

  “I guess it is all we can do for now. Good job, Jim. I’m thinking we better start using a couple of different frequencies to communicate with BL cells. Why don’t you work on it and see if we can figure out a way to bypass any frequency jamming?”

  “Will do, general.”

  The general walked over to Scott, who had just hung up the vid-phone. He had a big grin on his face. “I hope your grin means good news for me, Scott.”

  “Yes, sir, I do. I just talked to my Dad in BL code. He told me the original plans first saw the light of day at a research lab at University of Texas San Antonio during the war. He remembers exactly where they are. In fact, he participated in the research. He said he can either make the trip out here to show you, or he can let you know the location, whichever you prefer. Oh, by the way, he said the research facility also contains plans for building a nuclear bomb.”

  “Not enough time to wait for him to arrive. Call him back and ask him for the location and to get here as soon as he can. Since he was involved in the research, maybe he can help us develop a way to stop the cyborg units. Once he tells you where the plans are, we’ll retrieve them. We also need to look for nuclear bomb plans.”

  Scott started to make the call but turned back around and asked, “Sir, may I have permission to go with you? I know I’m not military, but as an engineer I can probably read and interpret those plans better than anybody.”

  General Veracruz didn’t hesitate. “Great idea. You get the location from your dad and we’ll head out at 2100.”

  Without another word, the general headed back to headquarters, giving instructions to his aide. “Call Stephen and ask him to meet me at HQ in 15 minutes. Ask Max to join us, too. Finally, I need a contingent of about fifty White Warriors to join the party, just in case we run into any of the emperor’s soldiers. Tell everyone we head for San Antonio at 2100.”

  Within less than an hour, troops and motorcycles were assembled, everyone mounted with weapons ready and geared up for a two- and a half-hour trip to San Antonio. Max and Stephen at first objected to the general going along on the trip.

  “You are too valuable, general, to make the trip. You need to stay here and guide the troops on their move out of Laredo.”

  “Not going to happen,” General Veracruz said firmly. “Too important a task. Besides, if I’ve done my job right, they don’t need me. I want to look at those plans as soon as we find them, so we know what we need to do to stop the cyborg units. End of discussion. Now, let’s move out.” He turned to Scott. “Did you find out when your dad arrives?”

  “Yes, sir,” he replied. “Barring any problems with the train, he should be here within 20 hours. He’s in Las Vegas. But the tracks are often damaged, so it might take longer. Regardless, he should be here by the time we return from San Antonio.”

  The general turned to Stephen. “I want you to continue focusing on getting as many rebels trained as fast as you can. I’m guessing all hell is going to break loose very quickly and we need as many trained rebels as you can give me.”

  Stephen saluted and took off at a run back to the training facility. General Veracruz pulled his dad, Max, aside and said to him. “Dad, if something happens to me, I want you to take over, okay? I’ve left instructions on my desk.”

  “Nothing is going to happen to you, son, so don’t even think it,” Max said as he gave his son a big hug. “Just be careful.”

  With a roar from the cycles, rebels headed for San Antonio. The fate of the country depended on what they discovered in the abandoned research facility. It wasn’t enough for Brogan and Sandra to figure out a way to destroy Priest’s nuclear ambitions. Without the plans on how to build the cyborg units and the bombs, they might not be able to figure out how to stop or destroy them.

  C
hapter Nine

  A Journey to Boston

  Brogan and Sandra exited the submarine just after midnight near Niagara Falls. They conveyed their thanks to the Canadian crew for all their help. They were equipped with body armor and pulse guns, but the captain insisted they also take a special tool useful in turning off laser fences. The innocuous little instrument was like a collapsible flat screwdriver. It worked surprisingly well. They tried it out on the first fence on the American side of St. Lawrence River, just east of the falls. By simply inserting it between the laser and the steel post at the bottom where the main laser juncture exited, it temporarily interfered with the laser points and they could walk right past the fence. After getting through, they turned around and did the same thing again and the laser came back on.

  “Hey, that’s pretty cool,” Brogan whispered to Sandra. From the light of the moon, she saw Sandra’s grin of agreement.

  They quietly made their way forward, flipping down their faceplates and reading navigational directions inside. They decided to travel by dark, at least until they connected with a BL cell. Several hours of walking brought them to the outskirts of the old city of Buffalo. They looked for a rail line, hoping to find some markings on a nearby building indicating where and when a BL cell met, but they did not find any. Fortunately, the August weather cooperated for a change. Although warm and humid during the day, nights were comfortable for travel. Within another month, the nine-month long cold season would begin.

  They approached the domed section of the city. Few lights were on, but they could see the damage to the dome in several places, probably from heavy snow causing major sections of it to collapse during the winter storms. The women carried forged T-chips and slipped into the dome as dawn peeked over the dome’s edge.