Future Reborn Box Set

by Daniel Pierce

  “And another after that?” she asked.

  “Damned right. We push out from The Empty until our shoulders brush the ocean. I swear it, Mira. I won’t live in a husk of my world, not when I can do something about it,” I said.

  “Good enough for me.” She kissed me lightly, the desert wind lifting an errant lock of hair to spiral in the breeze. In my vision, it looked like a halo, shifting as she moved. “But first, you have to get off your ass.” Her smile was bright, even with only the stars to light it.

  14

  We took the steps slowly, unsure of what waited at the second level, but silence greeted us—at first.

  Standing there recovering my balance, I heard voices down the corridor; soft, female, calm. “They’re here, and they’re okay. Don’t call out.” My strength faded in and out, but water seemed to help. The wounds were closed, if far from completely healed. I tried to ignore whatever was happening in my body, if only to let myself rest.

  Silk leaned out into the hallway, her eyes rounding at our staggering approach. “What happened?” She waved into the room, Andi popping out a second later, her hands filled with a gooseneck tool I didn’t recognize.

  “The king of the jungle, that’s what happened,” Mira said. “Lizard. Big one.”

  “Very big,” I added. “Think Komodo dragon on steroids. Maybe a ton or more, like nothing I’ve ever seen. Got to be a product of the virus. Bit me once, but the wounds are closing. I lost a lot of blood and—whatever happened after my ‘bots kicked in.”

  The Komodo reference clicked with Andi, who knew of the animal. She turned my arms over, peering at the lines of cuts with a frown. “How long ago?” she asked.

  “Twenty minutes?” I guessed.

  Andi’s frown deepened. “Those cuts should be fully closed. You’ve lost too much blood, and along the way, ‘bots. They’re self-replicating, but only to a point. You need to have your tank topped off.”

  “Later. We need to get ready to greet Rowan,” I said.

  “We might be able to do both. While you were out, we got one of the drones ready to fly. It’s on platform, and I have a tablet slaved to the main displays downstairs. There’s a control center, but we don’t need it for a single drone that’s flying lazy eights. If we do anything more complex, we’ll need access to it,” Andi said.

  “What floor?” I asked.

  “Level 4. Only thing beneath it is the subbasement where we ran the special ordinance. We need every floor in here, but we can survive for now with control of this level and some of floor two. Three and four are command, more supply, and storage. The floors are mixed in case of compromise, and there’s a second small armory on four, at the close end right near the stairwell. As to the basement, it’s an absolute wonderland of destruction. I should know, I put it together,” Andi said, her voice ringing with pride.

  “What kind of surprises down there?” I asked. My curiosity was well past casual.

  “Refractive body armor. Ground based radar units. More small arms, but the stars of the show are the Vampires,” Andi said.

  “Rocket system?” I asked, unfamiliar with the term.

  “Sort of. If you consider a single person flexible wing with modular guns to be a rocket. They launch from any height over ten meters and have a six hour flight time. The guns are dart-based, modular, and the wing is ‘bot enhanced. It can repair itself in flight, as long as the damage isn’t catastrophic, and the entire system is run from a headsup helmet linked by wireless. It weighs less than 300 pounds, and it can hit speeds of 100 knots. You can flare and land on a square meter of ground, and the wing acts as a parachute in the event of system failure,” Andi said.

  “Holy shit. We have air capability?” I said, stunned. The Vampires changed everything. “Why Vampires? What’s the name mean?”

  “Special dart packages that can not only kill, but link into enemy data cables and siphon off realtime intel. They don’t just kill. They sabotage, they corrupt data, and they drain off any and all secrets you could ever want. As to the use of that now, I don’t know, but the guns still work, and shooting from a height would be nothing short of magic,” Andi said.

  “Rowan and his people have long guns. What’s the operational ceiling for the Vampires?” I asked.

  “And how low can they fly?” Silk asked. When I raised my brows at her question, she was quick to answer.

  “Flying is great for war. Flying low would be invaluable for peace,” Silk said. She was right. The applications of the Vampire for mapping, trail breaking, and general security were limitless.

  Andi thought for a second, then waggled her hand in a gesture of uncertainty. “Without much wind? Twenty meters. I wouldn’t go lower because of the weight.”

  “Downdrafts?” I asked.

  “Among other things. A column of cool air could put you in the ground. Better to stay above fifty meters, if only to buy some time for the ‘chute function to deploy,” Andi said.

  I felt my jaw tighten as the value of the facility became even clearer. “We have to protect this place. Between the reactors and the Vampires, there’s enough material here to modernize the Free Oasis overnight.”

  “We will,” Mira said, squeezing my shoulder lightly.

  “I know. I hate the idea of thinning humans in such a starved time. It isn’t like there are people to spare,” I said.

  “We don’t need bad people,” Silk said flatly. She was right.

  “You said I needed my tank to be refilled. I have questions about that,” I told Andi, sliding up to the wall to my feet. I was steadier, if sore and a touch dizzy.

  “We can discuss it once the Condor is up. I’m going to launch and get it circling before we waste any more time,” Andi said.

  “Do we need to—” I began, but Andi’s fingers moved over the tablet in a series of rote motions.

  “It’s up. We go live camera in three . . . two—live. Here’s our view,” Andi said, turning the tablet to face me. The view was a blend of greens and black, tinged with the occasional blue. “It’s enhanced, but fairly true. Condor is at 200 meters and climbing.”

  “Set a random pattern? And, can you set an alarm for contact?” I asked.

  “Done. If it sees anyone, we’ll get a tone through the entire facility, not just my tablet,” Andi said.

  “How long until sunup?” I asked.

  Mira looked up, her eyes flickering as she considered our time above. “About ten hours, give or take.”

  “Then we have some time to rest, refit, and consider what to do about our friends upstairs. Killing their bogeyman might make them a bit less timid, I’m afraid,” I said.

  “It would take them one hunting cycle to know that,” Chloe said.

  “So we have, what? Until tomorrow at most?” I asked.

  “Between that and the lights, probably. When they come out, it’ll be in force. You can bet on that. Those two colonies will take the vacuum of power as a chance to wipe one another out, or I don’t understand predators,” Chloe said.

  Mira nodded. “We do not want to be in the middle. Underneath, maybe. Up top? No way.”

  “We don’t want to be on the bottom level, either. At least not until I activate the pumps. Look at this,” Andi said, brandishing her tablet. Red warning bars flashed over a map of the lower floors, with three blue lines inside the vertical wall markings.

  “Flooded?” I asked.

  “Totally. Doesn’t matter to the gear because the rooms are self-sealing, but for access, we need to get to the command center. It has access and directives for the entire facility. It’s also the oldest and most secure room here,” Andi said.

  “How old? When was this place built?” I asked.

  “1994. All deep black budget stuff, so far off the books that no one understood what they were building. The sections were built as modules and inserted through a side shaft that was rocked over when complete. Unlike the pharaohs of Egypt, the workers weren’t killed. They were reassigned to other places, and the
trees grew up even as memory faded. It was hiding in plain sight, just like the rest of the projects,” Andi said.

  “That’s—it was here all along? Unreal. I wonder how many lives could have been saved if anyone had been able to use all of the gear,” I said.

  “Exactly zero. I know why you’re pissed, Jack, but think about it. Crazed civvies with weapons like this? What do you think would have happened? I’ll tell you—some shitbag would have grabbed everything and set himself up as a local warlord. That’s what. Tell me, isn’t that what happened anyway? Is The Empty some shining example of peace and human rights, or is it a chessboard of assholes with power?” Andi said, her eyes flashing with anger.

  She was right, and I sighed in disgust at her assessment of the world as it was now. “Fair enough. I guess it would have been a drop in the bucket.”

  Andi’s eyes softened even as Silk and Mira bristled. Chloe just watched with interest.

  “I understand how you feel, Jack. Do you think I wanted to turn tail and hide in a metal tube, when I knew the world was coming apart around me?” Andi took my hand in hers, and it was a touch of understanding. “I hated knowing that everyone I loved would be dead. All of my life. My people. My nation, and planet, all of it was probably going in the shitter while I was thirty meters down, dozing away the months.”

  “Months?” Silk asked, her tone rich with scorn. “The virus lasted for centuries or more. For all we know it’s still out there, turning us into things that scrabble for food in the night.”

  “We thought it would burn itself out, like any other plague. We were wrong,” Andi said, her gaze level and free of shame.

  “Did you do it? The virus?” Chloe asked.

  “Me? No. Not— I build things. I don’t plan for the end of the world, and I sure as fuck wouldn’t have taken part in it. I was brought here as a kind of caretaker, along with some staff who were going to see the place through to the other side. Obviously, that didn’t work either,” Andi said. Now her words were mournful, as the enormity of everything she lost came clear in her mind.

  “Then you have nothing to answer for with me,” Chloe said with a decisive nod.

  “Or me,” Silk added.

  Mira regarded her with latent suspicion, but added a shrug and then began checking her weapons, having moved on to more practical things. Like survival.

  “I don’t blame anyone for what happened,” I said into the tense silence.

  “You don’t?” Andi asked with some surprise.

  “No. It’s a waste of time and hate. I have to live here and now, not in some grief-fueled state of looking back. I have sixty people to care for and more on the way, if I can continue to make the right decisions,” I told her.

  “I hoped you would say something like that,” Andi said, then crossed her arms in the first nervous gesture I’d seen her reveal. “I’m two millennia from home, guys. I want us to live more than anything, but we need to clear this place fast, and I can’t apologize for things I didn’t do.”

  “No one needs an apology. We need you. Let’s talk about what’s next, and where we end up, okay?” I said.

  “Good. Thanks.” Andi sighed, uncrossed her arms, and pointed to the stairs with confidence. “I have to get into the command center like yesterday. Once I activate all of the defensive systems—”

  “There’s more?” I asked.

  “There were mines, but I’m sure they’re long gone. I’m talking about internal systems. We’ve got hard barriers that can be activated in sequence to make it an absolute bitch for anyone to get very far in here, and that’s assuming the scorps and rats don’t rip them apart. As much as I would hate to give up ground, I don’t know why we don’t use them as a sort of living minefield,” Andi said.

  “I have an idea about that. As for now, saddle up. We go to level three. I lead, guns up, and from now on until the command center, we move quiet and fast. Good?” I asked, getting a round of nods as we moved in unison toward the stairs.

  Below, I heard the odd hum, but little else. With a wave, I told everyone to follow me as I began my descent, the stairs growing slick with moisture.

  I stopped above the landing, holding my hand out for the hard map. It was in Mira’s pocket, so she handed it over without a sound, her eyes never leaving the lighted space below. After a quick glance, I held it to Andi for confirmation. She gave a sharp nod, held up five fingers, then jerked her thumb to the left. I had my location, now the only thing to do was advance.

  We entered the third floor as a quiet unit, our steps muffled by the growing whine of a distant reactor. No wonder the rats hated it; the noise pulsed in and out of my awareness like an unwelcome guest, but I pushed it away and tested the first door on the left.

  It opened quietly, the lights inside winking to life with a harsh glare. I glanced at Andi, who murmured electrical as I stepped inside, sweeping the room with my weapon.

  “You weren’t kidding,” I said now that the room was open to us. There were no scorpions or lizards or rats for that matter, just cable routers and junction boxes of sizes and shapes that were completely alien to me. “What the hell’s going on in here?” I was a computer engineer, but the setup looked like it could handle enough power for a city. Or more.

  “Each reactor can be daisy chained, and when we needed more power, this is where the connections would be maintained, cut, or even rerouted. There are three different rooms for comms and power besides the CC down the hall. It’s a level of redundancy, but it’s also necessary because of how much cabling we had to run,” Andi explained.

  I walked over and put my hand on a bundle of cables running up through the ceiling. There was a low motion within the bundle as it hummed with quiet purpose, well below the irritating sound of the wonky reactor below. Thinking for a minute, I realized Andi wasn’t telling me the whole story. “Where do these cables go?”

  “Right here, in the—” she began, but I waved her off.

  “No, the cables that run outside the facility. Like this grouping.” I tapped a bunch of cable marked with EC. It was the thickest in the room, and it vanished through the wall rather than up into the ceiling. That made it more interesting to me because it confirmed something I’d suspected. This facility was far from unique, despite whatever Andi had been told. Just as I had been a mere cog in the machine, so had Andi.

  “What do you mean outside of here?” Silk asked. As usual, her devious mind grasped the possibilities immediately.

  “Andi?” I asked, offering her a chance to explain what she knew. If I couldn’t count on her to be open with me, then she was a liability, not asset, and certainly couldn’t be counted as one of my people.

  Her look was one of genuine confusion as she ran her fingers over the cabling. “I . . . don’t know. I’m not stupid enough to think I was special to the military, but I have no idea why they would run this much juice outside the system.”

  “What about EC? Does that mean anything to you?” I asked.

  “Fuck if I know. I knew our local network was FC for Fortress: Cache, but as to anything else, it wasn’t on the books when I went under. I have the highest security clearance possible, so when we get to the CC I can search it.” Andi shrugged, her brow pulled down in frustration.

  “Then we get there next, unless there are rooms that need to be cleared for the fight?” I asked her.

  “If Rowan’s people get this far, we’ve got bigger problems than losing a few tool kits and shit. This is primarily command, but like I said, the real loot is already locked up in the main armory and down below, with special weps. They’re not getting into those rooms without a battering ram or explosives, and if we lay down fire they wouldn’t even have time,” Andi said.

  “That assumes they’re not in the belly of a rat,” Chloe said with her own frown of disgust. Then she grinned. “Can’t say that would make me sad at all.”

  “Or me. Fuck him and his dreams of a crown. I’ve had enough of that bullshit for a lifetime. Hell, twenty lifeti
mes, if you count my nap,” I said.

  “Then I guess we go to comms first, then CC. As to the rest of the space, I can put it on biometric lockdown once we reboot the system. We can access the drone footage in real-time on the big screens, too,” Andi said.

  “To comms then. Any linking systems in there that we can carry?” I asked.

  “That’s why we’re going. There are pinbuds that link to the facility. You speak to the air and can be heard anywhere inside. Like radio, but better. No handsets,” Andi said.

  “Good. We need it for the fight,” I agreed. “Room four?”

  “Four on this side. CC is next, and I’ll start the pumps, too. Lots to do in the first minute, then we get our data and plan,” Andi said.

  I slid into the hall, hoping for the best but expecting almost anything. I was pleasantly let down by The Empty space and bright lights easing along the wall to the comms room. Behind me, the women moved in utter silence, their weapons trained in a disciplined row, ready to fire at an instant.

  Andi touched the door then stepped back as I reached out to take the handle in a single, decisive tug. Unlike the other rooms, the lights inside were sluggish to come on, and when they did, there were shadows chasing each other across the ceiling as bulbs cut in and out with an erratic rhythm.

  The air wafting out was sick with age and something else, a smell I was quickly learning to avoid when possible. It was decay, and not the kind brought about by dripping water and moss.

  “Back,” I said in a grim voice, my gun at shoulder level. I saw no motion, but another bar of lights popped to life, sending half the room into bright relief.

  “What the fuck is all that?” Andi asked, subtle as ever.

  Sheets hung from the ceiling, obscuring part of the room as they waved from an unseen breeze. They were ragged, dirty, and filled with debris where still attached at more than one point, making a garden of filthy hammocks that blocked my view.

  I drew a blade but kept my gun ready as we spread slowly inside, staying close to the door and surrounding frame. In total, the room was ten meters long and about as wide, but the purpose was a mystery due to the bizarre decorations.