by S. Harrison
“Thank heavens,” Jonah whispers as he tries to catch his breath. “They’re alive.”
“Who?” asks Bit.
“The other Saviors,” Jonah says with a smile. “That signal was from Mantis, from her ocular implants.”
With help from Infinity’s binocular vision, I scan along the part of the promenade that curves up around the side of the sector, and I see them, four figures running among the shadows up the wide white slope toward the far end of the staircase.
“Keep going, everyone,” Jonah calls out. “We can cut diagonally across the stairs and meet up with them near the border of Sector A.”
Taking full advantage of my enhanced sight, I look down toward the lowest point of the promenade, and my stomach twists into knots as I see twenty or thirty little black dots scuttle out into the light of the lamppost.
“They’re coming,” I whisper as my heart begins thudding in my chest. Suddenly a writhing carpet of black begins pouring out around the lamppost, and this time I shout the words. “They’re coming!” My vision snaps back to normal as I quickly look around at everyone in the group. “RUN!”
Panic blooms in everyone’s eyes as Bit, Brody, Professor Francis, and Percy all turn and bolt up the stairs. For some reason Dean is standing completely still as the Professor dashes past him two stairs at a time.
“Who was that fast girl?” Dean asks as I lunge at him and pull him along by the sleeve of his blazer. “Is she in our physics class?” he asks as I drag him up the stairs. “Has she got a boyfriend or—”
“Dean! Shut up and run! Everyone keep going. Don’t wait for us!” I push Dean up the staircase and turn back for Jonah. He’s trying his best, but he’s falling farther and farther behind. I leap down the stairs, stuff my radio into my satchel, and grab him under the arm.
“Leave me, Finn,” he wheezes. “Get Bettina . . . to the core.”
“You can make it,” I grunt at Jonah as I struggle to haul him along beside me.
We go a few more steps, and Jonah clears his throat between labored breaths. “Finn, I need . . . to tell you, if I don’t make it, I need to tell you . . . that I’m sorry. Sorry for everything.”
“Save your breath and apologize later, old man.”
“There may not be a later, if you don’t . . . get to the core,” Jonah wheezes. “Leave me, Finn.”
“No! Now shut up and keep moving.”
He’s so heavy. I wish I had Infinity’s strength to help me carry him.
She must have heard me, because I suddenly feel her expanding to full size inside my limbs, and a massive surge of strength burns through me. I quickly throw Jonah’s arm over my shoulder, grab him around the waist, and begin lunging forward with renewed vigor and power.
“Whoa!” Jonah exclaims as our pace doubles.
You’re gonna have to teach me that little trick, I say to Infinity in my head. She doesn’t reply, but I feel a ripple of bemusement pass through me from her.
I glance back at the steadily encroaching wave of Lobots. They’re already a quarter of the way across the field that leads to the foot of the hill.
Up ahead the gentle light from the lampposts at the top of the stairs falls across the blackened remains of the two R.A.M.s that the Saviors blasted apart with missiles from their transport a few hours ago. Our little band carries on ahead of Jonah and me, tromping in a curve toward the wreckage of the giant robots. Gazelle and the other Saviors approach along the stairs from the left. It isn’t very long before Bit and the rest of the group slowly come to a stop as all the Saviors jog over to meet them.
I can see nods of acknowledgement all around as quick greetings and introductions are exchanged. I glance back over my shoulder and see the wave of spiders moving fast. Panic grips my stomach as I see them continuing to pour out from between the buildings lining the promenade far in the distance. I angrily grit my teeth and forge onward, hauling the laboredly huffing Jonah along beside me. Now is not the time to stop for a little chat.
Jonah and I have almost reached them, and I shout at everyone between panting breaths. “Why are you just standing here? Keep moving!”
The tall, blue-eyed, stoic-looking Savior with the shoulder-length blonde hair looks in my direction, then she pushes her way through the others and trots down the steps over to Jonah and me. “I have him, Commander,” she says with a strong Russian accent. She throws Jonah’s arm over her shoulder, grabs him around his midriff, and scoops his legs completely off the stairs, carrying the 260-pound man with seemingly little effort at all. Somewhere along the way, she must have discarded her long-sleeve black uniform shirt, because now she’s wearing an army-green tank top, and I can see the metallic ridges of her back peeking out from the neck and armholes between the rounded shoulders of her formidable cybernetic arms.
“This . . . really isn’t necessary,” Jonah says with a slightly embarrassed look on his face.
“Thank you anyway,” I say to her as I try to catch my breath. “They call you Bulldog . . . don’t they?”
“Yes, but it is bad translation from Russian,” Bulldog says as we reach the others, and she lowers Jonah back down onto the stairs. “Please, Commander, call me Lila.” I smile at her, and she grins back with teeth that are almost as perfect as Percy’s are.
I look around our now expanded group. All the other Saviors are still dressed in their black uniforms, but the helmets they wore in the transport are gone, and, apart from Commander Zero, so are all their masks and visors.
“We haven’t been officially introduced yet, Commander,” a wiry teenage boy says with a distinct Australian twang. He has clever-looking brown eyes, thin lips, brown wavy hair, and a long nose that’s just the right size for his long face. “I’m Jackdaw. But you can call me Jack.”
“I’m Saloma,” says a petite, olive-skinned girl with a dark-brown razor-cut bob hairstyle. “I prefer to be called Mantis, if you don’t mind,” she says with a quiet, almost meek voice. Without a visor covering her eyes, Mantis looks extraordinary. Her face from the bridge of her nose up is an array of different-colored and varying-shaped lenses, giving her an almost insectoid appearance.
Jonah takes a deep breath. “Kestrel . . . where is Kestrel?”
“Who’s a kestrel?” asks Dean.
“He was our pilot,” Mantis says sadly. “And our friend.”
“What happened? Where is he?” Jonah asks again.
“He didn’t wake up from the head injuries he sustained when the transport went down, sir,” Jack says, looking at the ground. “I’m afraid he’s gone. We left his body in a building near the promenade.”
Jonah nods solemnly. “He was a brave soldier. When this is all over, we will mourn and honor him properly. Pay him the respect that he deserves, as we will for everyone who has died here today.”
“I’m sorry about Kestrel,” I say, glancing over my shoulder at the encroaching Lobots on the field below. “But we really have to go.”
“It’s OK, Commander,” says Mantis. “Commander Zero has something that will help with the spiders.”
Commander Zero has a long army-green-colored tube strapped to his back. I wonder what kind of weapon it is and how it will help us destroy the Lobots, but he doesn’t reach for that. Instead he holds a small canvas satchel out to Mantis. She quickly unzips it, and inside the bag are what appear to be twenty or so chunky gray wristbands. “Here, put these on,” says Mantis as she begins handing them out to everyone.
“Ha . . . ha-ha,” Jonah laughs breathlessly as he pulls his yellow radiation gloves off and takes a band from Mantis. He wraps it around his wrist, fastens the latch, and presses a large square button on the top, illuminating a small green light on the side of it.
“How on earth did you get your hands on these?” Jonah asks.
“Commander Zero went back to warehouse eighteen after he and Gazelle were ambushed by the spiders,” Mantis explains. “He was looking for something to use against them, and he found these.”
�
�Switch those things on right away,” Jonah says to everyone. “They’ll keep you safe from the X-27s.”
I study the ugly, bulky gray thing around my wrist. “Really? Wait, hold on a second, Mantis, did you say Zero went back for these after they were ambushed?” She nods, and I look up at Commander Zero, who is standing stoically on the stairs. “How did you escape the spiders?”
He raises his cybernetic fist and raps his knuckles against his forehead with a metallic clunking sound.
Jonah grins. “The X-27s couldn’t gain control of Zero, because the top of his skull is titanium.”
“Of course, the metal noggin he got after he was shot in the head,” Gazelle says, grinning up at Commander Zero as he silently scans out across Sector B.
I glance over at him again, and all of a sudden, my gut twists into a knot. A gunshot to the head! That’s exactly how Carlo was killed. Now I’m staring at Zero with wide eyes, and my heart is thudding in my chest. He’s taller than Carlo was when I knew him, but he could have grown in two years. His hair is exactly the same thickness and dark black color. His body shape and the way he stands are different, but they could’ve changed over time, too. Is it even possible? No, Carlo is dead. Zero can’t be him, he just can’t be. If Zero was Carlo, he would recognize me. Unless . . . a bullet to the head has made him forget.
I want to shout out his name to see if he responds, but it’s so unlikely that I just can’t bring myself to do it. If Carlo were alive, Jonah would have told me. I look at Jonah, and I’m instantly reminded of all the secrets he’s kept in the past. Maybe he wouldn’t have told me, but still, if by some miracle Zero and Carlo are one and the same, there’s no point in broaching the matter at a time when the fate of the world is hanging in the balance. This will have to wait, but I’m still staring suspiciously at Commander Zero as Brody holds up his hand and shakes the chunky band around his wrist.
“What are these things?” he asks.
“These wristbands make us invisible to the spiders,” says Mantis.
“No, they don’t,” says Jonah.
“Excuse me?” blurts Professor Francis. “But that’s what the girl just said. Are we safe now or not?”
“Relax, Professor,” says Jonah. “These were a pet project of mine a while back. I was the butt of a lot of cattle jokes at the Blackstone Christmas parties, but look who’s mooing now.” Jonah grins.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, fearing that Jonah may have lost his mind.
“Well, put simply,” replies Jonah, “these wristbands . . . turn you into a cow.”
“They what now?” asks Percy.
“These are the cow bracelets?” Gazelle gasps, looking down at her wristband in delight. “I thought Commander Zero made that story up.”
“No, it’s true,” says Jonah. “And it was clever of you to think of using them this way, Zero, very clever.”
Commander Zero nods at Jonah.
“I don’t get it,” says Brody.
“They were designed to fool flying observation Drones by altering the shape of your thermal image,” says Jonah. “If an enemy Drone was to fly over you at night, and you were wearing one of these, they wouldn’t see a human shape in their thermal imager, they would see—”
“A cow,” Bit says, stifling a giggle.
“Exactly,” Jonah says with a smile. “Or a sheep, pig, dog, whatever you set it to. But the software for these prototypes was never developed beyond the cow phase, so as far as those X-27s down there are concerned, we are now a small herd of cattle grazing on a hillside.”
“I think that’s brilliant,” says Bit.
“Thank you, Bettina,” says Jonah. “Unfortunately most Generals don’t have any imagination, and absolutely no sense of humor. They’ve been gathering dust on a bottom shelf in warehouse eighteen ever since.”
“So I hope I’m correct in assuming that the X-27s won’t attack us, now that we are in disguise?” asks Professor Francis.
“I imagine a stampede of homicidal bovines might do some damage in the right circumstances, Professor,” Jonah says bemusedly. “But the X-27s were not designed to create killer livestock. They only hunt one kind of animal.”
“But they’re still coming this way,” I say, looking down toward the writhing mass.
“Yes, they’ll still be drawn to your movement,” says Jonah. “But don’t worry, once an X-27 is close enough to sense that you’re not a target, it will be diverted away.”
“But how can you be certain?” asks the Professor.
“Because it’s standard programming,” says Jonah. “Autonomous weapons like the X-27s react to movement, but once in range they’ll identify a target by human heat signature or the sound of a human voice. So be sure to keep your mouth shut, and be careful using your radios when they get close. You can be sure that I’m going to be very careful using mine. Now, all of you have somewhere you need to be, so get out of here.”
“You’re not coming?” I ask.
“I’ll make it there in my own time,” says Jonah. “I don’t want to slow you down any more than I already have. I’ll meet you at the core.”
I look down at Jonah, frowning with worry. Even after all the secrets and lies, part of me still cares very deeply about the Jonah that I used to know.
“I’ll be fine,” he says, shaking the band on his wrist. “I have a walkie-talkie.” He pats a bulging pocket on the leg of his plastic pants. “If anything happens, I’ll moo for help.”
I smile and shake my head at the daft old man.
“We were searching for survivors when we spotted you,” says Jack. “So far we haven’t had any luck, but we’re going to continue the search in Sector A.”
“I’m going to help them,” says Gazelle.
“Wait,” I say. “Before you go I need you to do something for me.”
“Of course, Commander, anything,” she replies.
“If Percy gives you directions to the core, can you take Bit there on the way?”
Percy opens his mouth to speak, but Bit cuts him off before he can.
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “My arm, it’s too painful to hold on to her. I almost passed out when she took me thirty meters; please don’t make me go through that again. I’d rather just run.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, and she nods.
“Those things won’t bother us now. And if there are survivors, then Gazelle should help them if she can.”
“If there are any survivors, they’re gonna need one of these,” says Gazelle as she picks up the duffel bag of wristbands and looks inside. “There aren’t many left,” she says as she zips it closed and slings it across her chest. “I hope it’s enough.”
“I hope so, too,” says Jonah.
“I have a question,” Dean says, raising his hand. “Is there any kind of pudding in the cafeteria? Chocolate would be great, but I’m willing to settle for vanilla.”
Everyone frowns at Dean as I take my radio out of my satchel and press it into Gazelle’s hand. “Keep in touch,” I tell her, and she smiles solemnly.
“I will, Commander,” she says, then she turns, and her powerful legs piston beneath her as she dashes away toward her teammates waiting in the distance.
The Lobots are nearly at the foot of the hill. They’re still creepy as hell, but my concern about them has lessened considerably now that we have these thermal wristbands. “OK, everyone, let’s get a move on,” I say.
As I turn to carry on up the stairs, Brody suddenly points back toward the promenade. “The big boys are coming back, too,” he says.
I don’t even have to think twice about what he means as I look over my shoulder and see the three giant green Remote Articulated Mechanoids roll out of the shadows onto the promenade far below, crunching through mounds of fallen debris as the writhing sea of Lobots parts around them.
“Please, let’s just go before they roll up here and we find out the hard way whether or not they shoot at cow-shaped people,” says Bit
.
“I wholeheartedly concur,” says Professor Francis.
The group begins moving again, up toward the trees beyond the line of lampposts at the top of the stairs.
“Good luck,” says Jonah as he slowly and painfully gets to his feet.
“I’ll see you soon,” I say. He smiles as I turn and leap up the stairs two at a time to catch up to the rest of the group. After sixty or so more steps, we all finally reach the top, and I look back at Jonah as he slowly lumbers up the steps below us.
“He’ll be fine,” says Percy. “Major Brogan can look after himself, and the core isn’t far. He’ll catch up in no time. It’s just on the edge of Sector A. We can cut through here.” He points into a dark wooded area and then reaches into the canvas bag hanging at his side and pulls out a flashlight. He clicks it on and sets off into the trees as everyone follows behind him. There’s no path, so all we can do is trust that Percy knows where he’s going as we all crunch through the loose leaves and twigs beneath our feet.
“Attention,” Nanny Theresa’s voice says from the radio. “Are you receiving this transmission?”
“Hello?” I reply. “I read you.”
“Something is wrong. Genevieve is missing,” says Nanny Theresa.
“What do you mean she’s missing?”
“As we were observing the firewall, Genevieve said that she felt as if we were being watched, as if there was a new presence of some kind inside the mainframe with us. Genevieve left to investigate nearby systems, and now I cannot locate her. I’m not sure what this may mean, but it makes me extremely uneasy. It would be wise to hurry.”
“We’re nearly there,” says Percy, but it still takes a few more minutes of brisk walking before I can see the vague outline of buildings beyond the edge of the trees. Up ahead Percy finally reaches the end of the wooded area, and we follow behind him out into a tiny grass-covered clearing surrounded by more trees on every side. In the middle of the clearing is a single very small and narrow rectangular concrete structure. It’s barely ten feet high, so I can see silhouettes of taller buildings against the night sky in the distance beyond the trees on the other side. I recognize some of their shapes. That must be the border of the main courtyard in Sector A.
