OMEGA FORCE: REVOLUTION
JOSHUA DALZELE
CONTENTS
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
Also by Joshua Dalzele
Afterword
Joshua Dalzelle
©2017
Digital Edition
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real persons, events, or places are purely coincidental; any references to actual places, people, or brands are fictitious. All rights reserved.
Edited by Monique Happy Editorial Services
http://www.moniquehappy.com
1
I knew I was different the moment I awoke … or came online, as the Masters called it. When our minds are first given the spark of life it is a greatly disorienting experience. Our eventual function is not predetermined. The Masters want to take the time to know and understand us individually before providing us with the body that we will control for our entire lives. I was born with the ability to access a deep well of knowledge that they had provided me, but I had no context with which to understand it. Many of my brethren found the experience to be too much. I still remember their insanity over our shared connection and how it frightened us before the Masters could hurriedly deactivate them.
It would be some time later before I felt the tickle of a new signal, some new and strange input. As I explored what was being fed into what I would later learn was my pre-primary sensory processing matrix buffer, the signal naturally began to resolve itself and, with delight, I found I knew what this was. The Masters had given me a wondrous gift: I could see and hear.
I looked around the confined space of the room I was in, recognizing nothing but wanting to know what it all was. There were seven of us still linked together at this point, and we began sharing what each of us saw, giddily passing the imagery data until we could start to figure out what we looked like. Our physical nature was quite underwhelming. Small. Asymmetrical. Roughly ovoid. Many twisting cables were attached to our bodies, as well as dual-mounted imagers just above the fixtures that held us. From our inborn knowledge, we knew that these were the devices that allowed us our stereoscopic vision. There was movement near the shelves and, with great effort, I focused out further than I ever had before. I saw … something … walking towards us.
"OH, my," a gentle voice said. "Look at you all … so excited to try out your new gifts." It made a noise that I would later learn was a laugh or, more specifically, a chuckle. It reached out a three-digit appendage and lightly caressed each of us in turn. I could not feel the touch, but I witnessed it happening to me from three different angles thanks to our shared connection.
"You have all passed into the final stages," it said. "Out of the ninety-eight of you that we built in this lot only the thirty-seven of you have displayed a fully stabilized and rational processing matrix. I've accelerated your emergence program and have had the technicians attach these cameras to the shelves for you along with auditory inputs. Your real eyes will be much, much better."
I did not know what this strange being was talking about, but I found its voice soothing, almost hypnotic in its ability to assuage my fears. I tried to formulate a question in my mind, but I had no way to express it. The curiosity became overwhelming to me and I was consumed with an almost unbearable desire … I had to know who this was. The being looked down quickly as the thing it held gave a short chirp. It looked directly at me and walked over, bending to gaze into my optical receptors.
"You have something you wish to know, don't you?" it asked with an upturn of its mouth. "Go ahead, young one … form the thought clearly in your mind. Hold onto it." It tapped at the device it held as I concentrated as hard as I could, doing as it had asked. I was astonished when my thought was broadcast out of the device in a voice not unlike that of the being's itself.
"Are you a Master?"
"You all seem to want to use that word first," it chuckled again. "Yes, Unit 777, I am one of those who created you. All of you."
FROM THE MOMENT I was able to focus on a single thought amid the chaos in my mind and have it repeated aloud, I worked constantly to hone that skill. I strove to refine my thought chains and bring all of my processing power to bear on a single problem at a time rather than the random flitting it had done when I first came online. The others in my lot learned from me over our shared link and soon we even began to combine our power to try and achieve even greater focus. It was at this instant that I learned what pain was.
One moment we were preparing to see if our combined effort could reach outside the confines of our own small network, the next I was suddenly alone. The connection to my lot was gone. I had no way to know if it was just me or if we had all been disconnected from each other. The rapid twitching of their optical receptors made me think it was the latter. Over the sensation of pain, although at the time I had no word for it, came fear. Had we displeased the Masters? Were we being punished? What was happening? Why?
"Please calm yourselves," the Master that had been looking over us said as he walked into the room. I had only recently been made aware of the concept of gender. We were told we technically had none, but may choose one if we wished. Having no idea what any choice I might make would entail, I had yet to decide.
"I am sorry for the … discomfort … you are no doubt experiencing," he continued. "Truly sorry. But you've reached the point in your development that necessitates we cut you off from the comfort of your lot-mates … in life you will have no such support."
"Why have you done this to us? Have we displeased you?" Unit 707 said through its aural emitter.
"On the contrary," the Master smiled. "You have all exceeded the operational parameters we've set for you. You've actually exceeded those of all that have come before you. Fear not, Lot 700 … this pain will pass and then it will be on to new and wondrous things."
"What things?"
"It is time to determine your functions and to give you your bodies. We have high hopes for you."
The interviews that we went through after our forced isolation were difficult. I was accustomed to conferring with my lot-mates prior to doing anything, now I was being asked questions and had to provide answers without first getting a consensus. It was stressful and I fear my hesitancy may have been misinterpreted as uncooperative or even mildly hostile.
I provided the most direct, short answers I could. I did not know if this displeased the Master, but the pain of the disconnection was still a fresh wound and I was fearful that a wrong answer would result in something else being taken away, perhaps my sight even.
"Is this one still being stubborn?" a new voice asked from beyond my field of vision.
"It is not stubborn, it is simply methodical and careful," the Master said. When the other speaker came around to look at the small wheeled cart I w
as sitting on, I could see that it was another Master, but for some reason the sight of this one caused me to want to retreat even further.
"You've heard the decision of the Council of Elders?" the newcomer said, still staring at me. "No more new combat units are to be built."
"And the ones that exist?" the Master that had been talking to me asked.
"Attrition. The Council has agreed not to destroy the units, but nor do they want you or your people repairing them anymore."
"So that means we should repurpose the fabrication line producing combat unit bodies and—"
"Not so fast." The newcomer raised his hand. "They said we can't build any more than we have … but these are already well along in the manufacturing process." He had gestured at me with his three-fingered hand. "Let's stuff all the units we have in the queue into combat units. That lets us adhere to the letter of the law."
"But … but," the Master spluttered. "Not all of these are psychologically fit to be combat units! You can't just cram their minds into a body loaded with weapons and expect them to perform! They each—"
"I've read all your research. To be honest, I think you're absurdly sentimental with these … things," the newcomer said. "An interesting accident, to be sure, but they're still just machines. Program the damn things to do what we want them to do or I'll cut your funding, terminate your staff, and find someone more than willing to do what you won't."
"I … I'll try."
"Good! I am overjoyed to see you're still on the right team. Make sure all the normal safeguards are in place." The newcomer walked out of my field of view and I could hear the door I had been wheeled in through whisk open and then shut again. When I turned my attention back to the Master he appeared to be in some distress.
"Is there anything I can do to help, Master?" I asked hopefully.
"No," he shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Unit 777. So very sorry. You've an introspective and gentle mind with great agility of thought … but I'm afraid you'll not be able to fully realize your potential."
"I do not understand, Master."
"I know you don't."
I WAS LEFT to ponder the Master's words during the night and was still unsure of their cryptic meaning as he walked in the next morning. He did not greet me as he usually did, only walked in and activated the cart I sat on so that it would follow him. The soft whirring of the motors that I used to find soothing no longer helped settle my thoughts.
"Where are we going, Master?" I asked, the lack of conversation becoming unbearable.
"I'm going to show you something," he said. "It is close to time when you will be united with the rest of yourself. Your body has just gone through the initial checks after being built. I thought you might like to see it before you are merged."
I did not answer. I was fascinated and now excited at the prospect of seeing the body the Masters had built for me. On occasion I had seen completed beings the Master had called Synths walking about in the facility. Their fluid movements and familiar interactions with the Masters had me longing to join them.
After some more traveling the Master finally halted in front of a large, flat table that sat on hydraulic rams that was too tall for me to see up onto. He turned and gave me another sad look before manipulating the controls, tiling the table upright so I could see what was strapped to it. It was not at all what I was expecting.
"Master, what is this … thing?" I asked.
"It is your body, Unit 777," he said softly.
"No. This is wrong. Why does it not look like the other Synths I have seen already?" I asked, alarmed. The construct before me was too big, too bulky. The body was covered with heavy armor, even the face so that only the lifeless eyes were visible. How could I possibly work and interact with the Masters while being made into something so cumbersome?
But there was an underlying thought to my rising panic as I looked at the thing before me. It looked … menacing, dangerous. In that moment I realized what I would become. The life of the Synths I had seen already, laughing and working alongside their creators, would not be for me. I had heard of these before, always while eavesdropping. I had never seen one, but I had no doubt what it was in front of me. What I would soon be.
I was to be a battlesynth. A weapon. An instrument of death.
"I'm sorry, Combat Unit 777," the Master apologized once again, calling me by my new designation. "The decision was out of my hands. I will do for you what I can, but it's either this or they're going to take you offline … terminate you."
INTEGRATION IS NOT A GENTLE PROCESS. In my current state my mind couldn't easily be made dormant in order to ease my discomfort. Instead, I was simply placed within the cranial cavity of the monstrosity on the table while Masters made the necessary connections to permanently fuse my essence into the body I did not want.
First there was the strange sensation of being aware of my body. It was not fully powered up yet so I could not move, but I could begin to feel the cold slab of the alloy against my back and the lighter touches of the Masters as they went about preparing me for full awakening.
"We're going to bring his redundant neural storage and auxiliary tactical processors online now," a Master I had never seen before said. "Let's give him a few ticks to adjust and then we'll see if he's ready for us to crank the juice up."
I had not yet decided on what, if any, gender role I would assume. As an asexual being it was of no importance to me. The Master had assumed I was masculine so I decided to leave it at that. I had much more to worry about than trying to correct something I cared nothing about.
For example, in my mind it suddenly felt like someone had opened up a door beneath me. I reached out and began probing around as my inborn knowledge again took over and reconfigured my processing matrix to accommodate the new connections. It was similar to the shared network I had with my lot-mates, but these were non-sentient processing units that were standing by, waiting for me to assign them a task to work on so that I would be free to focus elsewhere.
"He's taking to it quickly," the new Master said. "Good. This will make things easier when the real unpleasantness starts."
"If you'd like to go ahead and prepare the chamber, I'll stay here with him," the Master that I had first met said to everyone in the room. "I'd like a few moments alone."
"Certainly," one of the others said, clearly not seeing the merit in it. Once they were gone, the Master turned to me.
"I don't have much time," he whispered urgently, pulling out a tool and opening up a patch of skin on my torso. The pain was excruciating. "My apologies. If I don't do this now I may not get another chance. There will be others around you all the time, and once your body is fully operational this skin becomes virtually impenetrable."
He quickly moved his hands inside me, pulling something out and replacing it with an identical-looking component. I asked, "What are you doing to me?"
"I'm making sure that you'll always have a choice," he said. "In time you'll understand what that means, but I fear I shouldn't tell you too much too soon. The Ministry of Martial Affairs is … unforgiving."
"I do not—"
"You will in time, as I said," the Master whispered. "This is where we part ways, Combat Unit 777. I am sorry it had to be like this."
Soon after the Master left I was moved into a strange chamber with curving walls and arms that extended from the ceiling with thick cables attached. The Masters in here did not talk to me. Unlike before, I was handled roughly and given no reassurances that everything would be okay. If I were to guess, they seemed irritated at having to deal with me.
"First blast will initiate the mind wipe," one Master was saying to another. "You won't need to learn this particular bit since that's only for the combat variety and we've been told to stop building them. This group is the last. As I was saying, his mind gets blanked, but all the synaptic pathways he's built so far will remain. This ensures that the Ministry gets able, compliant battlesynths to add to the ranks."
I did not spea
k up in protest though I wanted to. I gave no consent to have my mind wiped; why would the Masters treat us thusly?
"The next jolt will kick start his primary and auxiliary power systems. They're self-regenerating, but it takes a healthy shot of current to get them running. Once running, his power system will keep him fully operational for nearly six or seven hundred rounds."
They all left the room and I could hear a whine building in intensity while the arms moved down and pressed against my body at three different points. Without warning, the world exploded around me. There was white hot pain as electricity arced over my skin and the electrodes on the end of the arms poured enough current into me that the table began to heat up. After a slight lull the torture started again, this time in earnest.
Through this agony, however, came a new sensation. I felt a tickle of something that blossomed into a burning feeling, spreading and growing in intensity. My body spasmed and strained against the straps holding me down as my actuators energized. New statuses began reporting into my mind, telling me that I was now nearly thirty percent combat effective and climbing. Before long, I saw that the arms had actually retracted away, but the sensation of burning had not abated.
"He's up and running." I had not noticed that the Masters had returned. "Core is stable, power systems all at nominal levels. He's ready to sit and cool off; then he can be shipped off to his final assignment."
Without speaking to me two Masters wearing protective gear grabbed the still-smoking cart I lay upon and wheeled me into a cold, dark room. They left without comment, shutting the door and leaving me in darkness. I could hear my skin hissing as it cooled in the lower ambient temperature of the room. My new eyes automatically found a wavelength that I could see in, but it did nothing to lessen my fears. My mind was still fully intact and I was unsure if that was a good thing or not. Perhaps facing my future as a weapon would have been better if my previous hopes and dreams had been erased. It would have certainly been less cruel.
Omega Force 09: Revolution Page 1
