by Ran Vant
Eve waved her hand dismissively. “Sure, it has blood and stuff… it’s a biological machine, like a fancy robech, but still a machine nonetheless,” Corporal Eve Mortier insisted.
“Whatever it is, they still have to call him something,” Maren insisted. She turned again to the genbot, trying one more time, “Excuse me, what are you called?”
“Maybe it doesn’t even speak our language,” Eve pondered, more to the air than to anyone in particular. “Who knows how they communicate up there on the floater?”
“Eve, that is a good insight; it’s possible he’s not understanding,” Maren acknowledged. “I guess I just assumed they spoke the same language as us. But even if he spoke a different language, you’d expect him to at least acknowledge our presence.”
Maren turned away from the bars and began walking back towards the door. “Well, now that he’s awake, it will make cleaning the wound more interesting.”
“I’m willing to bet Franklin will be jumpy,” Eve predicted. “I’ll try to make sure he doesn’t shoot you when you’re in there.”
“You’ll try? Why, thanks, I guess.”
“You know what I meant.”
Maren pressed the release on the room’s door. “We should probably get out of here. Since he’s awake, they’ll probably want somebody else to do the interrogations, in spite of our expert performance.”
“I hope we still get to visit it.”
“Why?”
Eve looked back at the cage and then turned back to Maren and said in a hushed tone, “I think he is kind of good looking.”
“Eve, I thought you thought he was just a ruthless machine?”
“Well, let’s just say that’s one good looking machine then.”
“Just remember, everything is being recorded,” Maren pointed out, and in a joking tone she continued, “After the lieutenant reviews the recording, I’m not sure he’ll let you near him anymore.”
“Hey, I’m not the one dating an officer.”
Maren looked at Eve with her head crooked sideways, eyebrows lifted, and big eyes, as if to say, “Stop talking about that,” but thanks to the recording devices, which were indeed likely to be reviewed by the lieutenant, she said nothing.
“Let’s get out of here,” Eve said, with a big grin.
45.
Play Along
A new twist, a new opportunity. He had a course of action now.
But there was already much to manage. And Red knew which was the most important: The Event.
Everything, every action, all must converge on it.
The most important early objective had been accomplished. Now, time would take care of much of the rest. But others were already impatient, and their impatience could ruin everything forever.
It was now time to ensure that the others played along. And he knew who was going to help him do it. Indeed, he had known for a long time.
46.
Thoughts
The women were gone. He was sure now they were the same ones he glimpsed in the midst of the painful scanner. There were others there, too. But these two visited again. And again. They spoke to him, they asked questions. Michael had said nothing. They were truds. And Guardians of the West did not answer to truds. Guardians of the West answered to the Ancients through Rex and the other Fortress Overlords. Truds were like cattle to be managed at the Ancients' directions. Dangerous cattle at times, to be sure, but clearly beneath those who watched from the sky.
And this made things all the more strange for Michael. Lightbringer did not know why, but he had felt an urge to answer the redheaded trud woman, the one he had learned was named Maren Bern. He had nearly said that he did not require food as often as the weak truds did. He had nearly told her that he was called Michael Lightbringer, Guardian of the West. He had nearly said that he understood everything they said and more.
But he had not said anything.
Michael merely lay there, waiting. The answers would be forthcoming soon enough.
47.
Some Assembly Required
Damien Musashi carefully assembled the rail gun. The energy core had needed a thorough cleaning. Now, with the fuel scrubbed, he was carefully realigning the rails and magnetic runners. Even as a child, Damien had a knack for technologies and weapons. Years of experience had honed the innate talent. Not just anyone could align the magnetic runners properly. It took patience, attention to detail, and knowledge. Now middle aged, he’d had years to practice and had made the most of them.
Damien finished the assembly and grabbed a plastic projectile at the center of which was a very small speck of ferrous material. The plastic projectile allowed Damien to test the alignment with a high drag, low velocity, low mass object. He placed the weapon in the firing test vice and stepped back to initiate the weapon charging. Safety first. A moment later, he pressed the button to remotely pull the trigger. The plastic slug flew out of the rail gun and hit the centering mark.
“Perfect, dead center. And on the first attempt. Impressive.” Red observed.
“Colonel Red, I didn't realize you were here.”
“I just arrived.” Red stepped further into the room. “Do you mind?” he asked, pointing towards the calibrated rail gun.
“Of course not,” Damien answered, appreciating the Colonel's asking permission where everyone knew none was required or even expected. They were different ranks, but Damien always felt as if the Colonel treated him as a peer.
Felix began to casually release the rail gun from the alignment apparatus. “Damien, you seem to have a talent for aligning rails and runners. You’re patient and meticulous. I haven't seen many center it on the first try. It was your first try, correct? I didn’t miss thirty minutes of swearing, did I?”
Damien chuckled. “No, sir, you did not. It was my first go. If you take your time and are careful, it usually works.” Damien was being modest. While it sounded simple, the assembly was quite difficult and it almost universally required extensive fine-tuning to center the slug shot. “Most people just rush it. And another factor is that most people neglect to put the same effort into maintaining the realignment equipment. You have to put in the prep work.”
“The first hour sharpening the axe, eh?”
“Heck, it also doesn't hurt to have been doing it for years now. I've been at this game a long time.”
“So true. So true. But you aren’t the only one who’s been at this a long time. Believe it or not, I had hair when I started this game, as you say. I’ve seen a lot of operatives, Damien, and you are one of the most capable and persistent. Few people have patience and are willing to set the groundwork in place.”
Felix finished releasing the weapon from the alignment harness and slowly looked down its sights. “The thing is, I need someone with patience. Someone who understands certain technology, and someone loyal to the cause of natural humans. Forget all the squabbles between the Natural Human Alliance, the True Core, the Pure, and all the others.” Felix mock fired the weapon, then slowly lowered it back to the table. “Those differences are nothing compared with preserving natural humans, with saving them from a world where they are always in danger of destruction.”
Damien nodded.
Felix patted the rail gun. “If we are going to stop the Event, we are going to need the technology of all of them.”
Damien pointed to the equipment in the room. “This stuff is good. Rail guns, skip drives, the works. But I'm worried it's not enough,” Damien confessed. “I know I don't know all of the plans, it would be foolish to tell me or anyone who doesn't have a need-to-know, but to me it doesn't quite add up to victory. The gens have some mean stuff: armies of machines, guardians, the floaters, and who-knows-what in reserve. In my years of fighting them, if there is one thing I've learned is that they should not be underestimated. I'm not sure if you are asking, sir, but I think we're going to need something more to take them all out. I sure hope you have something up your sleeve.”
“A couple somethings, ac
tually. But one which you may prove especially helpful with.”
“Should I even ask?”
“We're going to be hitting them harder than ever before, with things not seen before. Your analysis is correct: with only what you've seen, we could not defeat them. However, we can defeat them with new tools. But in order to do that, we've had to make arrangements with some whom we'd generally rather avoid.”
“Like the Core?”
“Much worse, in my humble opinion.”
“Who?”
“The Network.”
Damien scoffed. “We can't trust the Network. Everyone knows that,” Damien said, pointing out the obvious. “They seem practically half gen to me.”
“I understand, and on certain days I would be inclined to agree with you. As I've said, I generally prefer to avoid the Network and the Network is certainly not a fan of me. But we have to play all our cards to make this operation work. And the Network can be played.”
Colonel Red continued. “They have developed a... a... a capability that is powerful. Very powerful. But dangerous if used incorrectly, and I fear they plan to use it incorrectly.”
“So you want me to steal it?”
“Not this time, Damien. But it could be valuable to our own efforts if the Network could be persuaded to see the benefits of cooperation. Indeed, it could be key. But if they use their technology on their own, according to their own plans... disaster will result. Of that, be assured.”
“And you want me to do what exactly?”
“They've agreed to help us. You're going to see that they do.”
48.
Clues and Concealment
The Refuge Territories had long posed a special problem for Jack. The people who lived there did so illegally. There were thus no official records on those people for Lt. Carlitos to use. The NHA didn't even have a good idea of the number of settlements out there in the wilderness set aside for nature, let alone the number of people hiding out in the wilds. It was not the place where members of mainstream society went. It wasn't worth the risk for most.
The fact that Maren grew up in the R.T., but by her own account wasn't born there, meant that she or somebody close to her probably had something to hide or was a nut job. She certainly didn't walk there as a kid by herself. Somebody went with her. She, of course, claimed she didn’t know. She claimed she didn’t know much before Jack found her tied to a pole on a hill covered in tall grass. The question was: who was that person that brought her to the R.T. so long ago?
The archives didn't explicitly answer the question, either. But sometimes there were holes in the archives. And the lack of information was in itself information that could be used. Yet there were other sources of information. Many of the illegals were literate and did the same as people in the cities: they felt the need to write down every detail about their lives, and those around them, in diaries. Hunting down NHA traitors in the R.T., which was unfortunately sometimes necessary, also occasionally would turn up a rare stash of documents that shed light on the local power structures.
So Jack had clues, but nothing that pointed to why Red should care at all about Maren. This wasn’t new. He’d been working the problem literally for years. Despite his best efforts to pry it out of her one way or another, Jack hadn't gotten anywhere in a long time. She either didn't know why Red thought she was important or she was very good at concealing it. The former possibility was a concern, but it was the later possibility that really worried him.
49.
The Network
The burn scars on his lower jaw turned his lips down at the corners. Damien thought the scars gave the man a perpetual scowl. “We, of course, have much to show you,” the man said.
“And I look forward to seeing it, Niles,” General Chi said.
“Why does Red insist on calling us that? We can only assume it is because he thinks of us as we were before. But we are no longer that which Red remembers.”
“I'm sorry?” General Chi didn't know why Niles was offended or what the scarred one was talking about. That was the scarred body's name after all: Niles.
“We are so much more than just the man Niles,” the scarred one answered.
General Chi, for all he knew of the world, would never understand the Network. “Naturally,” General Chi said, using the most inappropriate and at the same time appropriate word for the circumstances.
The one word response seemed to please the scarred one and he went on: “Please, follow us and we will continue with the inspection.”
The scarred one turned and walked down the corridor. Damien used the opportunity to turn around in the middle of the room, allowing the cameras hidden in the buttons on his cuffs and the front of his shirt to get a panoramic view of the facility. It wasn't every day that the NHA got people inside a Network base of operations, let alone a manufacturing facility. The Organization could learn a thing or two from the Network. A few quick steps and he caught up again with Niles and General Chi.
They entered another room with racks and racks of equipment piled to the ceiling. A woman brought in two packs hanging from straps on each arm, and set them on a table in the center of the room. Damien recognized her from Colonel Red's briefing as the woman called Zhe.
Zhe spoke: “These packs contain modern skip drives. Better than the rockets or old skips and certainly better than those sputter packs the True Core is churning out. We've done the math: put these in a jetpack and you will out-climb a Guardian, like a sputter pack but with more control, better reliability, and more endurance. And they are easy to use. An idiot could launch himself and, more importantly, land himself without getting hurt. No operational training necessary. We have them all ready now. Please, inspect those you wish. Unfortunately, it is of course impossible to fly them at this location.”
“Of course.” The floater still hovered above them, and they never forgot it, least of all General Chi.
“Shall we look at the rest? You may come back and look at these more closely if you wish, but we have much to see and only limited time.”
“Lead the way,” General Chi responded.
Damien did another covert camera spin in the skip drive room and followed Zhe, Niles, and Chi down a very long but wide corridor, through two sets of blast doors, and into a cavernous room that looked as if it had been carved directly from the bedrock.
Zhe spoke again. “And this is the real reason why you are here.”
“This is why the Natural Human Alliance deigns to deal with the Network,” Niles said.
“This is how we shall destroy the gens,” Zhe said.
General Chi looked at the weapons. They had not been lying. The weapons were here. The weapons were ready. No matter how crazy he thought the Network was, they sure could churn out the hardware.
Damien was the one to actually say it: “Nova bombs.”
“Radius of total disintegration?” Chi asked.
Zhe spoke, “Enough. 10 to 20 meters. If placed in the right place, deep inside near the float generator, one of the devices could take out a fortress.”
Niles continued, “Alternatively, multiple novas could be used in sequence to tunnel into the fortress. Either way, it will crash to the ground. We’ve trained enough people to properly use them, without those people understanding exactly what we have developed or what they will be used against.”
Zhe went on, “The novas would also be devastating to a machine army if deployed properly. We can make them larger, but then their mobility suffers further.”
“They could do a lot of damage to the city, too,” General Chi said.
“Which is why we are going to be very careful with them, General.”
“And the delivery vehicles?” The bombs in this primitive form were too heavy to be carried.
“Combat sleds,” Niles said. “It will be like the days of the fighter pilot.”
Damien smiled at the thought of racing through the sky in a combat sled, delivering a nova bombardment to the homes of those who had
ruled the skies for so long.
“I need to see the sleds,” Chi said.
“This way.”
At the end of the corridor, Zhe peeled off from the group, and disappeared into the labyrinth of the complex.
General Chi and Niles did not chitchat on the way. Both were stone cold. Both knew this was an alliance of necessity, not love. And both knew they would not get any information from the other except that which they wanted to reveal.
Finally, they reached it. The door opened, and for the first time in his life, Damien saw something made by the hands of truds that could truly reach the heavens. “Amazing.”
“Do you like what we have created?” Niles asked.
“It's about time we took to the skies to fight them,” Damien said.
General Chi was not so easily impressed. “There are only five.”
“We will have all of the combat sleds in place when the time comes, but they aren't ready now,” the scarred one said. “We will have everything ready to deliver the weapons in due time.”
“Niles, you promised that you would have all the technology-”
“And we will, General Chi,” he hissed. Chi had called him Niles again. This is why the NHA is weak, he thought. Their leaders cannot remember even the simplest facts. He was no longer just Niles.
“Then where are the sleds?” Chi asked.
“All of the combat sleds will be in place in time. And everything is just as we have said. Damien will be able to verify it, with his own eyes as well as with all those cameras he is wearing.”
Damien grew white. How did Niles know? Damien instinctively thought to deny it, but Niles spoke again first.
