The Dead Room Trilogy

by Stephanie Erickson

He thought of Ashley and how she moved through her life without second thoughts. Particularly when it came to things like this. Sure, she second-guessed the elders. A lot. But when it came to her quest for the truth, she plowed forward without apology and with such certainty.

  It made him wish she were there. Despite the fact that she’d popped up in a dream, or a vision, whatever that was, he still missed her fiercely. He felt like the encounter made her absence that much more evident.

  Before they got much further, someone came clomping up the path behind them. They turned to see Mia running full speed toward them.

  Mason held out his hands and caught her.

  “What’s happened?” His heart raced, knowing deep down something else had gone wrong. And he’d been gone.

  “We’ve done it.”

  “What?”

  “We’ve done it,” she yelled at him, jumping up and down and smiling like some crazed lunatic.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “So we took some risks while you were out. It only took a few moments. And we got the thing working!”

  “But…”

  “Mason. Are you touched in the head? How many other ways can I say this? The EMP is working.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Well…we can’t for sure, but the panel in the dead room went dark when we turned it on.”

  “Oh, God,” he said, taking off running toward the dead room. “How many people were inside? You came out? Shit.” His mind was racing. How fast could three bots travel anyway?

  “Mason. It’s okay. The inner chamber was locked when we tested it. The bots are secure. We have no idea if they’re free or whatever, but the device worked, so wherever they are, they’re dead.”

  “I need to see for myself,” he said, starting to let it all sink in.

  They walked quickly back to the dead room, having gone further than Mason thought. Lehman trailed behind as they stumbled down into the outer chamber.

  The device appeared to be running, although it made no sound other than the low hum of energy it produced. It didn’t have any moving parts either, making it difficult to tell it was doing anything at all. But the darkened panel along the wall was hard to ignore. Nothing was working at all. Nothing responded when he flipped switches and pushed buttons. They’d killed it.

  He ran his hand over the panel one last time before he turned to the people gathered in the dead room.

  “Go get Mattli. It’s time to go home.”

  23

  June, 2025

  In the next month, chaos descended upon the world. Ashby’s focus became the dead room, finishing it up and making sure the survivors could take back the world someday. Even his team had lost focus. Chaos surrounded them. It wasn’t safe to be outside because of rioting and looting.

  He was close to cracking the code, and could only hope he’d have enough time to upload it in the dead room before the world went to hell in a hand basket.

  Eventually, one much-needed weekend on the island, he broke down and told Mendi everything about the room and what his plan had morphed into. No longer would the room be his lab. He could see that now. If he survived, he could use it for a time, trying to deactivate the bots remotely, but if he didn’t succeed, he knew they could use it to reclaim the mainland.

  The only thing Mendi disagreed with was taking bots to the island. “Why? Isn’t this supposed to be a sanctuary? And what makes you think the bots won’t cross the ocean to find them anyway?”

  “Salt water. They won’t tolerate it.”

  “Salt water. So why not drench the out-of-control bots with it?”

  Ashby sighed, frustrated with his reality. “Because they’d just run. It won’t destroy them. They just don’t like it.”

  “Ships. Could people escape on ships?”

  “As long as they aren’t being cleaned or maintained by bots, yes. But I know a lot of the cruise lines, barges, and military ships use the bots for better efficiency.”

  “Of course they do. Is there anywhere your bots aren’t?” Mendi asked, clearly just as frustrated as Ashby was.

  “The island.”

  “My question remains—why take the bots there? One of the few safe places in the world?”

  “Because I need them to continue working, to try and save the world. And if I die, you need to figure out how to come back if you can. I need to leave this legacy, for you and future generations.”

  “This doesn’t end here without you.” Mendi said it so certainly. But somehow, Ashby knew it would. Instinctually, he felt it would reach far beyond their lifetimes and affect generations upon generations, assuming they could live on that long.

  He ignored the comment. “I’m close to figuring this out, Mendi. And when I get the code, I’m sending it to you. Upload it to the bots on the island and they should cooperate.”

  “What about the rest of the world?” Mendi asked.

  “Too many servers have been destroyed. I wouldn’t know where to start with uploading. It doesn’t mean I won’t try, but I fear it’s a losing battle. We’ll have to find some other way to take back the mainland.”

  The two men walked down the wooded path to the dead room in silence after that. It had taken some time and deliberation to decide to bring Mendi to the island. But he knew the man would help him, and he would care for his family if he didn’t make it through. The media was calling for Ashby’s head after so many thousands of deaths all over the world. But he knew that soon, even the media would be silenced.

  Ashby gave Mendi a tour of the dead room, explaining everything. “This is a new and improved containment box. The signal comes from the panel outside. Only when the door is closed will that initial signal respond. When the timer goes off, the room automatically gives off a second signal, sending the bots back into their box, and then the door can be unlocked. In the event something catastrophic happens, the entire room can be sealed by hitting the red button on the panel, keeping the bots inside.”

  “Seems like you’ve got multiple levels of safety here,” Mendi said.

  “Yes, well, my daughter is here.”

  Mendi grunted as he walked around the interior room. “Why the dead room?”

  “Aside from the fact that it signals the death of my career, you’ll be able to use the bots to get rid of dead bodies until you can find a way to come back. Bodies will start piling up over here, and then disease will spread. This will be a practical way to get rid of them. That’s all.”

  “Seems to overcomplicate a simple procedure. Why not burn bodies, or sink them in the ocean?” Mendi asked as he walked out and examined the panel Ashby had built.

  “Because, this is their key to us. Their key to normal civilization.”

  “Their?”

  “Future generations.”

  “Oh, please, Ashby. This won’t go on that long.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Ashby had trouble extracting himself from the island after that. Mendi, and Ashley for that matter, didn’t want him going back. They both knew the shit storm he was facing, but he had to try to get more people to the island.

  He knew at least the first airship had been deployed. He could tell. The president still did regular broadcasts from a room that was designed to look like the oval office, giving the people the secure feeling that he was still with them. But the window behind him was too small, and the curtains were a different pattern. It was a set built inside the first airship. At least some of humanity would survive. But not all. Every life he could get to join him on the island was a life saved—one not destroyed by him.

  The president’s most recent broadcast had confirmed his worst fears.

  “My fellow Americans. I’m afraid we’ve received word that the failure of the nanobots is twofold. A terrorist organization has claimed responsibility for all meltdowns now that their plan has reached its full potential. They hacked Bennet Ashby’s delicate system, inserted a malicious code that not only made the bots autonomous, but also tol
d them to replicate. Now there are more bots than ever running rampant in all corners of the world thanks to the hack, and the lack of security Ashby had in place for his system.”

  The feed cut to a grainy image of a hooded man with a deliberately distorted voice. “This world will be cleansed of its greedy, selfish, and power-hungry people.”

  The feed then cut back to the president. “Know that we’re working hard with the brightest minds in the world to get the problem under control. Not only that, but we’re also searching tirelessly for the perpetrators of this malicious attack on the entire world. Until then, remain calm and safe. Thank you.”

  That was it. Obviously, chaos and rioting ensued after that. Not to mention a fair amount of negative media attention and threats on his life.

  Hope and her family were already on the island, living at his home along with Mendi and Judy. It made for tight living quarters, and he wasn’t sure what he would do with other people. He hoped to expedite some more purchases, rent some rooms, whatever it took to save people. Once all this was over, his money would mean nothing, so he might as well spend it.

  His realtor worked round the clock getting space, and he spent hours in his lab making calls and convincing people to come stay. In the end, he’d gathered a few hundred people to his cause, and he knew they’d gathered even more. It would be tight. Conditions would be tough in the long term, but they would make it work.

  He’d already emailed Mendi a new code and the instructions for how to upload it. The breakthrough had been such a relief, and rather than totally disable the little demons, he’d been able to fix the problem. Although it was too little too late for the world, it could help save what was left of humanity on the island.

  Mendi,

  Here’s the new code. Please upload it as soon as possible. I’m on my way to help you, but don’t wait for me. I promise. I’m on my way.

  Ben

  His last task was to arrange a private helicopter to take him to the island. He already had decades worth of supplies taken over there, and had dug a new well for survivors.

  The task wasn’t easy. Many people had fled in the wake of the unsettled atmosphere. Where they’d gone, Ashby wasn’t sure. Mexico maybe? Canada? Just away from the bots mostly. At least until they caught up.

  But enough money could bring anyone back rather quickly. He laughed at the idea, knowing full well that money would soon be obsolete. But he didn’t tell the pilot that.

  There wasn’t really anywhere to land, so a jet was out of the question. But a helicopter could land in a clearing and make it back to the mainland just fine. He doubted the pilot would stay with him, particularly if he had family on the mainland, but it was worth a shot.

  The phone calls for that only took a few moments. They would be ready when he was. All he had to do was say the word, and they’d go.

  Getting to his lab over the last few weeks had been difficult. The media had taken to camping out there, waiting to accost him with accusatory questions. He learned quickly that they didn’t really want true answers. Better to just keep his head down and push through. But, before he left forever, he felt he should return, just one last time.

  The university was a ghost town, even though it was coming up on midterms. The absence of the media frenzy gave Ashby the chills. They knew what was coming just as well as he did.

  The campus had been shut down in the wake of recent events. Although nothing had gone wrong in California, yet, the bots were making their way West rapidly. Each town they took added more bots to their population. As if once the sleeping bots sensed others around them, they activated and joined the cause of their own free will. It was something Ashby hadn’t anticipated, let alone dreamed as a possibility. They were becoming an unstoppable cloud of destruction.

  Ashby walked the corridors to his lab. It was dark and silent inside. Hope had sent the last chimp to a sanctuary nearby when she left for the island. Although Ashby didn’t think the sanctuary was long for this world, it was a good gesture.

  Without the chimp, it was cold and sterile in the lab. Going to his desk, he took out a small, black box made from the same material NASA had given him for the bots. Removing the journal from his briefcase, he sat at his desk.

  He thought back on his time in the lab, and about everything that had happened. How Mendi had managed his success, even with a small stain on his record. Why hadn’t that happened to him?

  Because Mendi’s cure wasn’t killing people, you fool.

  Opening the book to the first page, he looked over his notes. At the very top, he scrawled,

  I am Bennett Ashby. And I am not the savior.

  At least if anyone found his book, they’d know the truth. He put the book inside the black box, secured the lid, and placed it back inside his briefcase.

  That task competed, he then went to the back corner of his lab and took out a small key attached to his key ring. He opened the cabinet and took out the large EMP device.

  “One last thing to do,” he said as he set it up near the sleeping bots.

  After plugging it in, he hesitated. There was his life’s work, about to be destroyed. Even though he knew it was the right thing, he found it hard to do. Everything he’d worked toward—for nothing. Thinking back, if he’d known how it would play out, he wondered which choices would be different. How could he have changed this outcome?

  Ashby sighed as he held his hand near the switch. He supposed it didn’t matter much. His bots would still exist and would still have the potential to destroy the world.

  With a shake of his head, he flipped the switch, forever disabling the last twenty bots in his lab with a burst of electromagnetism. Despite the fact that they’d resisted his code, they were still vulnerable to that. Problem was, they were so numerous that a big enough machine didn’t exist to disable them all.

  As a precaution, he packed up the EMP device, and then took one last look at the place where his miracle curse was born as he was turning off the lights. He wanted one more moment with his old life.

  “Goodbye,” he said quietly to the lab before forever leaving it in darkness.

  On his way to the airport, he flipped on the radio. It was something he didn’t do much lately. It was all bad news. Since the fall of Chicago and Detroit weeks ago, it seemed like the entire nation had fallen to the bots, and they were spreading out, making their way north into Canada and west toward him.

  The more metal they consumed, the more bots they made. The terrorists had created a horribly beautiful code that would be the end of not only the greedy, selfish, and power hungry, but also of every last person and thing on the Earth.

  The media had gone international. It was broadcasting from other countries, those smaller than the USA. Or maybe even straight from the main airship. Which meant the news was often behind actual events, because no one was dumb enough to be on the ground waiting to be eaten alive.

  The report he listened to was from a woman with a British accent, making it a bit soothing, in spite of the grave news she delivered. “It seems the bots have made their way through Arizona and are continuing westward on their path of destruction. Only a small percentage of the U.S. remains untouched, and the survivors are struggling to hold onto their wobbly existence.”

  Arizona, Ashby thought. I wonder how old that report is. Surely by now, they’d breeched the California border, but maybe they’d gone down to Mexico instead, giving him some time. Maybe, just maybe, he’d make it out alive.

  The airport rose out of the horizon like a holy grail. He could almost hear the singing of his savior as he pressed the gas pedal down harder and sped toward it.

  But a quick glance in his rearview mirror revealed something odd. Almost as if there were a smudge on the mirror. A large smudge. That shimmered. And moved. He blinked at it, knowing he should bring his eyes back to the road as he sped along, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from his creation. It had come home.

  Looking over his shoulder didn’t giv
e him a much better view. So, he turned his attention back to the road and raced to his helicopter. He’d called when he left and told them to have it up and running, ready to go as soon as he set foot aboard. He hoped they’d followed that instruction to a T, because they would have no time to spare.

  The gate around the ramp was closed and locked, with security spikes on the inside of it to prevent people from plowing through, but he didn’t care. He didn’t have time to go inside. No one did. They should all be fleeing.

  Pressing down hard on the accelerator, he braced himself as he crashed through the fence, around the hangar, and spotted the only helicopter with its engine running. The tires screeched on the tarmac as he came to a stop. The pilot nodded to him from the cockpit as he reached up and flipped a few more switches.

  Ashby fumbled with his seatbelt, but he couldn’t help one last glance over his shoulder. The cloud was huge, and it seemed to be close enough to touch.

  “No,” he said as he turned and ran to the helicopter. With all the life left in him, he sprinted to that bird. However, Ashby’s creation overwhelmed him, the helicopter, the airport, the city, the country, and the world.

  24

  Approximate year, 2346

  That evening, Lehman, Mattli, and Mason were sipping tea in the front living room of Mattli’s home.

  But they weren’t quietly relaxing. They’d had a very exciting day. And it only fueled their desire for more. He remembered telling Ashley the more answers they got, the more questions she’d have. It was exhausting. But now that he was living it, it was almost exhilarating.

  They had all the pieces they needed, so they could really start planning for their trip. It was becoming real. Going back to the journal, Lehman pulled out the schematics for the airships.

  They stared silently at them for a few moments, trying to understand the layout, what everything was for, and how they operated. They even had designated farming areas with glass ceilings for sunlight, and water collectors from the surrounding clouds for water.