Uroboros Saga Book 1

by Arthur Walker

  “Old man? You may not look it, Silverstein, or whatever you call yourself, but you’re older than I am. Neat trick by the way, being able to manipulate how old or young you look. Handy in dodging the authorities,” Matthias rumbled angrily.

  “If Ezra is 87, that would make Doctor Helmet really old,” Taylor said incredulously.

  Matthias nodded slightly and picked up the old photograph. “Indeed, he and Maurice Madmar were some of the first on the project, and both are older than any normal human has right to be. They appeared to be old men when I joined the project as a young programmer.”

  “Are you going to help us or what?” Silverstein replied, sitting back and folding his arms.

  “That depends. Where is the catalyst your organization stole?”

  “Catalyst? What catalyst?” Silverstein said turning and looking back toward Taylor and me.

  “Under a hunk of concrete behind my apartment in downtown Port Montaigne,” Taylor replied, deep in thought.

  “The chemicals, planted in the laundry cart, when we moved the guns for the Drones--” Silverstein whispered.

  “We didn’t know what it was we had, still don’t,” I said in earnest to Matthias.

  Matthias’s stony expression melted somewhat, comprehending that we were likely pawns in a bigger game.

  “Tell me everything,” Matthias said pulling a bottle and several glasses from a cabinet beneath the work table.

  We began to relate the entire story. We told him whatever we could remember. When we got to the part where one of Silverstein’s clones went insane and killed two people, Matthias stopped me mid-statement.

  “You said the clone wasn’t Silverstein? That the smell was wrong?” Matthias said thoughtfully.

  “Right. Didn’t smell like anything I’ve ever smelled before.”

  “Did it smell like this?” Matthias asked, sliding a plastic container over to me.

  I opened the container. Inside were several biological and mechanical components suspended in a clear jelly, designed to preserve them I assumed. I sniffed the contents then slid it back over to Matthias.

  “Yeah, that’s what I smelled.”

  “A cyborg then. That wasn’t one of Vance’s, eh... Silverstein’s clones. This is bad,” Matthias said covering his face with his hands.

  “Cyborgs convincing enough to pass as a person are illegal,” Taylor remarked quietly.

  “Madmar is the only one with the tech to make a cyborg like that. He’s also the only one depraved enough to also make one into a deranged killer,” Matthias whispered grimly.

  “He tried to have me killed, then hijacked my… Vance’s clone network? Why?” Silverstein ventured, and like me, not grasping the big picture.

  “You... Vance Uroboros discovered that the Central Global Government was attempting to isolate ninety percent of the world’s wealth to a handful of investments they controlled. From the intelligence I’ve been able to gather, Vance and the network were trying to stop it, push that wealth back out to regular people,” Matthias stated plainly, sliding his data slate over to Silverstein.

  “But something went wrong,” Silverstein replied, looking at the data slate.

  “I didn’t see it until now. I thought you’d just gotten greedy, but it’s clear that Madmar has been pulling the strings of your operation for at least a year now,” Matthias growled, banging his hand on the table.

  “What’s he planning to do?” Taylor asked.

  “Just what it looks like. He’ll bankrupt the world. Power and services around the globe go offline. All the secure structures that house governments, the banking industry and similar will deploy countermeasures expelling everyone inside. Then, once they are clear... the buildings will go into lockdown, effectively locking humanity out of their own house,” Matthias whispered angrily.

  “Millions of people could die. Is there a way back into those structures, get the power back on?” I asked anxiously.

  “The most important buildings worldwide have been modified to resist terrorist attacks and similar. Once they lock up, it’ll be impossible to get inside without destroying them in the process,” Matthias said standing up from his seat.

  “Can the code stored on Taylor’s mobile help?” Silverstein said.

  “Yes and no. Before you lost your memory, or whatever has happened to you, you must have discovered what Taylor was. That’s why you sent her the code. She’s one of the few on earth with the power to protect it,” Matthias said.

  “Wait, I don’t have any power. I was left on the streets of downtown Port Montaigne, grew up there. I’ve never done anything this exciting in my life,” Taylor protested.

  Matthias smiled, the first and last we were likely to see.

  “When the Mars colony was built, a powerful AI was built to act as a warden and protector. In the wake of a terrible civil war, the AI became more autocratic and protective. It lost its ability to feel compassion, even the programmed kind. While it continues to serve its purpose, it is anything but a beneficent patron of the Martian people.”

  “I’m from Mars?” she asked incredulously.

  “No, but when the Lunar Colony was built it was given a mother and a father AI to balance them out,” Matthias said. “In the wake of that, the two believed they needed to create children that could journey to earth, learn what it is to be human, and eventually return home to share what they learned. In this way, the two AIs could stay balanced and benevolent protectors of the Lunar peoples.”

  “So, I’m a moon baby?” Taylor replied, still skeptical.

  “You’re a countermeasure, but ‘moon baby’ works too,” Matthias said with a half-smile.

  “How do you know all this?”

  Matthias paused for a moment. He seemed to collect his thoughts before speaking.

  “I contributed most of the code that comprises the intelligent agent on Mars and the pair on the Lunar Colony. My contribution to the MDC Project had to do with artificial intelligence as well,” Matthias said.

  “So, you’re like my grandpa?” Taylor said with an impish smile.

  “I never really thought of it that way, but yes,” Matthias replied attempting in vain to defend himself from Taylor as she flew across the table to hug him.

  “Will my parents love me when I come home?”

  Matthias paused again, trying to summon the proper words.

  “They can’t right now. Not yet. You’ll have to show them how. None of their children have returned yet, and if Madmar has his way, none of them ever will.”

  Taylor turned and looked at me, then turned her gaze back to Silverstein. Her eyes filled with tears, and she began to weep bitterly while Matthias did his best to comfort her.

  Silverstein’s turned to me and narrowed his eyes angrily. I nodded to him, as if to say I had his back.

  “I promised Taylor I wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Being cut off from her home on the Lunar colony as a result of an economic apocalypse on Earth certainly qualifies. What do we need to do to stop this?” Silverstein said.

  “We may need the catalyst you left in Port Montaigne. Once we have it, and have verified it is what we believe it to be, we need to get it, Taylor, and the code, to Helsinki. If we can get them all to the CGG Mainframe, we might be able to limit the damage Madmar has arranged using the CGG’s greed and Vance’s network,” Matthias replied, a tone of urgency creeping into his voice.

  “There’s no way we can go back to Port Montaigne right now, and there are rubber coated goons all over downtown looking for us,” Taylor said.

  Matthias and Silverstein exchanged knowing glances. She was right, getting the catalyst back would be extremely difficult. None of them could get into the downtown area and out again without encountering serious trouble.

  “I’ll get the
catalyst. You guys start figuring out how we’re getting to Helsinki,” I stated grimly.

  “Ezra, if they catch you, they’ll kill you,” Silverstein said, shaking his head.

  “You have a better plan? I’m listening,” I replied as I gestured to my own pointed ears.

  They didn’t have a better plan. Matthias would arrange to have one of his flight capable prototypes drop me into midtown. From there, I would have to sneak down into the downtown area and find where Taylor and Silverstein hid the catalyst.

  I knew it would take every trick I knew to get in there. I couldn’t help but think about the last time the catalyst was used on Taylor. It gave her incredible power, allowing her to move faster than a bullet.

  If just an ounce injected into her has that kind of effect, what would she be capable of with a full suite of those chemicals at our disposal? I just hoped whatever Matthias planned to use the catalyst for wouldn’t hurt Taylor.

  Because if it did, I would kill him.

  Chapter 11

  Rural Georgia – Matthias’s Hideout

  6:45 AM, December 27th, 2199

  Ezra’s War Journal Part 2

  After plotting a course and figuring out the best ground route to take, Matthias and I decided the best way was to air drop me into midtown. He said he had a vehicle that could do the job, getting me both in and out once I’d acquired the catalyst. Silverstein and Taylor both disliked the idea but they could offer no alternative.

  Matthias took several moments preparing a small transport, air-capable, and totally silent, or so I was told. It looked more like a satellite or an escape pod as opposed to a vehicle but he assured me, several times, without prompting, that it was completely safe. Not the worst thing I’d ever been stuffed into.

  I climbed inside Matthias’s sleek looking contraption as he explained that it had been designed to find military personnel on the ground, and deliver supplies to them. He called it a “Canary.” The traveling compartment would have been beyond cramped for anyone but me.

  I mourned the fact that there was no window, making the contraption feel like a coffin from the inside. I figured I’d use the solitude to quietly focus on what I was about to do. For certain, it wouldn’t be a sightseeing trip by any stretch.

  “Ready?” Matthias inquired as he made sure I was strapped in tightly.

  “Tell me what to do again, after I’ve got the catalyst?” I asked, looking over at Silverstein and Taylor.

  “Use your mobile to send Taylor a message. Once it’s received I’ll have the Canary that brought you figure out where you are, and pick you up.” Matthias replied.

  “Why Taylor’s mobile?”

  “Silverstein’s assumption about her ability to impart an almost unbreakable level of encryption to devices in her possession is correct. Any message routed through her mobile, so long as it is in her possession, cannot be traced. Understand?” Matthias explained again for the fourth time.

  I understood completely, but really enjoyed the look on Taylor’s face whenever someone related how special she was. She was so pleased to be able to help in some way. It was worth making both Matthias and Silverstein crazy by acting forgetful about her abilities.

  “You sure about this? We could find another way...” Silverstein said kneeling down next to the hatch.

  “We each have a contribution to make. Taylor may not be able to make hers without the Catalyst and there are millions of lives at stake. This is my contribution,” I replied.

  “Ezra, please don’t die. Oh, and could you pick up some of my things while you’re at my building?” Taylor said, sliding me an obscenely long list of her belongings.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I replied, winking at Silverstein.

  Matthias closed the hatch. It was pitch black inside until the Canary’s internal systems began to come online. Then, after the engine had powered up, the whole craft jerked upward violently. I nearly bit my tongue.

  It was a maddening journey back across the land toward the Port. I couldn’t see anything but I could feel myself and the Canary traveling at a very high rate of speed. Its engines chirped and sang, which I assumed was the reason Matthias gave it that name.

  I hummed to myself while I waited. It was something I did back home in the underground when waiting for the cisterns and water chambers to shift. Just me, alone, in a tiny pipe, with millions of gallons of floodwaters rushing below me.

  After what felt like hours, the Canary finally came to rest and disgorged me onto a rooftop in midtown. Shaking the fog from my head I looked around for a bit of loose roofing with which to obscure the contraption. From the rooftop I could see I was probably a three hour walk to Taylor’s apartment building.

  It was more or less what we’d planned.

  The few people I came across in midtown ignored me as long as I kept my cowl up and my head down. I still had all the kitchen knives from the mansion stashed about my person. I hoped I wouldn’t need them. I prayed that the mission could be achieved by stealth alone. At the time, I couldn’t have known how much trouble and blood I was in for.

  When I reached the seaside edge of the Port of Montaigne, it was clear the Collectors had been turning the place upside down looking for us. The streets were empty. I could see people hiding wherever they could, in abandoned buildings, overturned trash bins, and drainage tunnels.

  They must have wanted us badly. Something we had or knew could still mess up whatever the master plan was. I felt bad that these humans had to suffer so terribly just because we left town. Hopefully all this blood would be worth it in the end.

  There weren’t many, but I could see and smell small cooking fires and hear the whispers of downtowners afraid to wander the streets. That last twenty-four hours had plunged the area into hell. I normally didn’t feel bad when humans suffered, but having a few friends who were members of that race changed things for me.

  After an hour of walking, I arrived at what Taylor called the strip, a portion of downtown with commercial spaces that still had power and services. The Strip and Waffle was one such place. There was a pawn shop, the strip club, a corner drug store, and a barber shop all around a single intersection.

  The place looked like a war zone. Not a single business was open and the streets were littered with debris, smoldering vehicles, and overturned trash bins. There were bodies, too. At least a half dozen poor souls got caught in whatever violence had transpired.

  From the looks of it, they only killed those who fought back. There was an old man with a shotgun, a woman beside him with a rolling pin. They died trying to protect the old man’s barber shop. People do desperate things when you threaten to take the only thing they love away from them. I wanted with all my being to avenge them.

  There were only a few shell casings, far less than there were bullet holes. Mercenaries, like the ones we met in the concrete factory, bearing similar weapons and training. I didn’t dare break into the open, but it looked like they arrived in armored personnel transports, deployed, and began firing at the businesses specifically. Not a single one still had an unbroken window.

  Nothing I could do there except say a short observance for the dead. We Drones do not believe in God per se, but we do believe there is something watching over us all. A benevolent force one cannot see but can instead feel in the warmth of camaraderie and community.

  I wasted no time following the route I’d already worked out in my head. I paused near what I thought was an empty machine shop. I peeped through a shattered window where I saw several Martian mercenaries inside holding prisoners. Mostly women and children lay on their sides weeping while the armed individuals talked over payment with what I assumed were slavers.

  The vision of the old barber and his wife flashed through my mind, and for a moment, I forgot the mission.

  I walked the perimeter looki
ng for sentries before sliding in through a shattered part of the foundation and moving toward them just beneath the floor. I could see them pacing above me as I reached an industrial drain under a lift. The drain was tight. I had to temporarily dislocate a shoulder to squeeze through. Watching and listening for a few moments from beneath an equipment lift, I listened to the mercenaries talk, and in a language I’d heard before. They were from off world.

  One of them backed over toward me, leaning against the lift. I took advantage and clipped the back of his ankle with my claws. He cried out as he fell, reflexively pulling the trigger on his weapon. The slaver and his comrades opened fire on the mercenaries thinking some sort of double-cross was in progress.

  I slid out on my belly amidst the chaos. Rolling over, I knocked out the only overhead light with one of the kitchen knives. I crouched down low and waited the two seconds it would take for my eyes to adjust to the darkness.

  The firefight between the two groups was savage, but thankfully all at waist level. Captives let loose muffled cries as I wove my way through the shadows toward a female mercenary. She was about to turn her weapon downward toward the hostages. I grabbed the barrel of her weapon and held it aloft as I stabbed her again and again with my claws. Bullets tore through the air around me, her screams drowned out by the roar of automatic weapons.

  Not many of them had survived, and I could see them weaving through the carnage and smoke toward me. I dodged behind one of the lifts and grabbed a handful of metal shavings from the ground. As the slaver came around to flank me, I hurled the shavings into his eyes, but to no avail, he was wearing eye protection. The butt of his rifle came down on me hard, then again, across my forehead. I pitched backward up against a work bench as he came at me again. He was trying to take me alive. Last mistake he would ever make.

  Still angry as hell, I stepped into him, I brought my foot down on his lower leg, breaking his knee. He pitched forward across my shoulder as I brought my clawed hand up, disemboweling him. One of his remaining crew reached for his sidearm, but far too slowly as I hurled the slaver in him.