Cyberdrome

by Joseph Rhea

  “Is that the Core?” he asked.

  Lorena was busy drawing symbols on the input pad. “What?”

  He pointed out the display. “I guess I assumed that this ship was inside one of the simulated worlds,” he said, still unable to pull his eyes away from the view.

  “We are locked out of the simulations, remember? We modified this Survey Vessel to operate inside Core memory.”

  He looked at the image on the screen. “So, how are you guys getting around out there? You don’t move this entire ship around, do you?”

  She shook her head and looked up at him. “Weren’t you briefed at all?” she asked. “All right, this is how it is. In the bottom hangar of this ship, we have a number of one-person vehicles called Tracers, which were designed specifically for the Core. They are actually copies of what the Sentinels used.”

  “Sentinels. Those were Cyberdrome’s primary defense routines, right?”

  “Correct. They were all deleted in the initial attack on the system. Anyway, they were actually humanoid life forms, so the Tracers were designed to fit humans.”

  “All right, so you, Maya, and the others, have been using the Tracers to locate the nodes and attach deletion routines. When all five nodes are hooked up, you detonate them all at once. Ceejer should go offline and we all get to go home. If that’s all there is, then your mission should be a piece of cake.”

  “A piece of cake,” she repeated and her eyes seemed to glaze over.

  He was about to ask what she was thinking when movement on the display caught his eye. When he focused on the location, he saw several small dots moving on the horizon, rapidly approaching the hovering Survey Vessel.

  “Hey, there’s the rest of the team.”

  Lorena’s eyes widened. “What?”

  He started to point to the display, then a loud crash echoed down the hall and he felt the floor vibrate. “That wasn’t the ship moving, was it?”

  Lorena spun around and looked at the display. She made a symbol on the pad and the view zoomed in on a section of the Survey Vessel. They both stared at a large jagged hole on the underside of the ship. Several bug-like things were jumping up from the ground and crawling inside.

  Lorena smashed her fist against the wall. “Son of a monster bitch,” she whispered. “We’re under attack.”

  What do you mean?” he asked just as the floor shuddered under his feet. “Under attack from what?”

  “This is all your fault,” she yelled as she took off down the hall.

  He heard a loud crash behind him and ran to catch up with her. “What are you talking about?” he yelled back. “How can this be my fault? I just got here.”

  “Exactly.”

  Then he remembered. “Your team interfaced during a diagnostics window so that Ceejer wouldn’t detect you. Leconte sent me in afterwards.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Ceejer knows I’m here.”

  “We’re not being attacked by Ceejer,” she said as she turned a corner and ran down another hall.

  “If it’s not Ceejer, then what’s attacking us?”

  “Something else,” she said. “We don’t know what they are, but they are big and they—” She abruptly slid to a stop at a four-way intersection and faced him. “Wait a minute. Why are they after us?”

  “Isn’t that what I just asked you?”

  “Coming into Cyberdrome after the diagnostics window would’ve alerted Ceejer to your presence, but the things attacking us are not controlled by Ceejer. They shouldn’t know you’re here.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Trust me, I know.” She looked him up and down. “You must be broadcasting,” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  She shook her head. “That bitch put something inside of you.”

  “Who? Leconte? How? Why?”

  Another crashing sound made them both look down the hall behind them. “It doesn’t matter now,” she said. “We have to get down to the Tracer hangar as fast as we can.”

  “Can we stop these, whatever-they-are, with Tracers?”

  She glanced down the three hallways in front of them. “I think our best chance is to get in the Tracers and run like hell. If they follow us, we double back, reenter the ship, and then get out of here.” She finally selected one of the halls and sprinted down it. Alek had to work hard to stay up with her.

  As he followed her around a corner and down another curved hall, a loud crash stopped them in their tracks. A huge creature stepped right through the wall in front of them, its body completely filling the hallway.

  It looked like a giant robotic spider. It had a spherical body suspended by eight multi-segmented legs with what looked like hydraulic pistons controlling the joints. Its outer skin looked like some sort of rough-hewn metal and there were scars everywhere.

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the machine. “Is there another way to the hangar?”

  “Yes,” she yelled. “Back the way we came.”

  Just as he turned around, another wall fell ten meters ahead and another creature stepped into the hallway. This one had a triangular head, four legs, and two clasping arms held out on front of its torso. It looked just like a praying mantis.

  Just like the Spider, this thing’s metal body was covered by what appeared to be battle scars. Before he could wonder what that meant, he realized that they were trapped between the two creatures and there was no place to run.

  The Mantis charged forward and Lorena put up her fists as though she planned to box with it. Alek instinctively shoved her against the wall and then pushed her down to the floor. He then threw his body on top of hers, hopelessly trying to shield her from the approaching creature. He closed his eyes and waited for the end.

  “Hide!” she yelled.

  He opened his eyes to ask “Where?” and watched her disappear right before his eyes. Before he could react, he saw a slight blur as she grabbed his sleeve and yelled, “Hide!”

  He felt something slide over his face just as the body of the Mantis scraped the wall above him on its way down the hall. He glanced up just in time to see the Mantis lower its head and ram into the torso of the Spider behind them. The Spider fell backward, but as it did so, it wrapped one of its long legs around the Mantis. The Mantis twisted in mid-air trying to shake off the Spider and they both crashed back through the opening in the wall. He realized that the hallway ahead was now clear.

  “Reset,” Lorena whispered, then reappeared beneath him. She then pushed him off her and sprinted down the hall past the machines.

  “Wait,” he yelled as he tried to stand. When he reached down to push off the floor, he couldn’t see his own arm or hand. Camouflage, he realized. He quickly lifted his invisible right arm to his mouth and said, “Reset.”

  As the Omnisuit switched back into the outfit he had selected earlier, he jumped to his feet and ran down the same hall, jumping over torn metal and bent conduits.

  As he ran past the opening in the wall, he glanced over and saw the two creatures locked in battle in the next room. The Mantis had broken off one of the Spiders legs and had another one in its claws. He didn’t wait to see who the victor would be.

  A minute later, he came to a hallway leading back toward the center of the ship. Taking a gamble, he headed down it. When he entered the central lobby, he saw Lorena trying to force open one of the elevator doors.

  “Thanks for waiting,” he said dryly.

  “The power might be out,” she said, ignoring his sarcasm.

  “Maybe your ship’s security locked it because of the attack.”

  She stared down the hallway and her face turned pale. “If that’s the case, we’re trapped here.”

  “Can’t we just use the Omnisuits to hide from them?”

  “Camouflage mode is more limited than you might think,” she said. “The suit has to scan whatever’s nearest to you and duplicate it in the fabric. It uses a lot of power and you can be detected if you move at all.” She jumped at a bang tha
t echoed in the room. “Besides,” she added, “these are Predator-class programs we are dealing with. We—”

  “What?” he interrupted. “I thought you didn’t know what they were.”

  “I didn’t tell you everything, all right?” She seemed angry, or maybe it was just fear in disguise. “I think whoever stole your Cyberphage used it to carry a bunch of our company’s Predator programs into the Core.”

  “You guys made those things?” he asked, realizing that it was more proof that the attack on Cyberdrome was an inside job, despite what Cloudhopper thought.

  “We designed them for the military for one purpose only.”

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Chaos! Their sole objective is to create havoc, and destroy anything in their path.”

  “A diversion,” he said. “They were probably brought in here to keep the Sentinels occupied while something else was going on.”

  “Perhaps,” she said.

  “So, how many types of Predators are there?”

  “There were four main designs,” she said. “The two you’ve already seen, plus a Raptor and a data miner—something we call a Mole, although it looks more like a worm.”

  “So? What’s the worst that would happen if one of those things catches us?”

  She stared at him intently. “You don’t understand, newbie. At this level of interface, the only connections our brains have with our real bodies back home are the autonomic functions, like breathing and heart rate. All other senses are connected to this reality.”

  “That means that if we get hurt in here...”

  “It will feel absolutely real,” she said.

  “And if we die in here?”

  She stared at him. “It could sever the few remaining ties we have with our bodies. We could end up just like your father.”

  He stared back at her for a moment. “We need to get off this ship.”

  She looked down and her face lit up. “I’m an idiot,” she said. “There’s an emergency access.”

  She opened a small circular door on the floor with a touch of her finger on a DNA reader. He saw a ladder descending into darkness.

  “I hope you’re not claustrophobic,” she said as she headed down the ladder.

  He followed her down and closed the hatch above him. “I am a little, but it beats getting torn apart by one of those things.”

  “I agree,” she said from below him.

  As they descended the ladder, he whispered down, “I think those machines up there might be even more dangerous than you realize.”

  She stopped and looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Did you notice the scars on their bodies?”

  “No, but what does that—”

  A sound above them made them both look up at the dark tube. “Do you know what a Panspermia bomb is?” he whispered.

  “They’re old school, right? Used to reformat simple planetary simulations—to give them life,” she whispered back.

  “I—I think someone put a Panspermia bomb inside my Cyberphage—along with your Predators—and it somehow detonated. Maybe your Sentinels damaged it when they fought it.”

  She stopped descending and mumbled something he couldn’t hear.

  “Panspermia blast waves are designed to keep going until they cover an entire planet,” he continued, hoping he wasn’t giving himself away. “If it detonated here, the wave probably wouldn’t stop until it covered the entire Core, reformatting—or at least changing—everything in its wake.”

  “Go on,” she said.

  “If your Predators were near the bomb when it went off, it’s possible that it used their source code as a template to ‘bring life’ to the Core.”

  “But that wouldn’t explain the scars,” she said. “The Predators were modeled after machines.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe one of the Sentinels was close enough to the blast center to have its DNA scanned as well. The human part of the Sentinel code could’ve combined with the Predators’, somehow reformatting them into part machine, part living organisms.”

  She stared at up him. “You’re talking about living machines.”

  “Capable of repairing themselves and evolving into something better,” he added. “If you include the fact that they are the size of busses...”

  They stared at each other in silence. Then a crashing sound from above reminded them that they were not safe yet. They continued their descent. When they finally reached the bottom of the ladder, Lorena touched a section of the wall and a circular door spiraled open below them. They dropped down into a dimly lit, wide circular room. A ring of large oval doors covered the entire outer wall.

  “The designers of this ship sure like circles,” Alek said as he walked to the center of the room. He stooped to peer out a small porthole on the floor. He saw the ground passing beneath him and realized they were on the very bottom of the Survey Vessel. “Where’s this ship taking us?”

  Lorena was busy at a control panel on one side of the room. “Not sure. We stationed ourselves on the outer edge of one of the memory sectors. We assumed that the Predators wouldn’t come out this far, so it was a safe location until you came along.”

  “Why would they stay in the centers?” he asked, still staring out the porthole.

  “Each memory sector inside the Core is separated by a null space barrier, designed to keep programs from jumping sectors.”

  Alek stood to face her. “No one can cross it?”

  “This ship can,” she said, staring at the display. She suddenly straightened up.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s a message for me,” she said, her voice trailing off.

  She stared at the display for a moment before whispering, “That bastard.”

  “Who,” he asked as he tried to look over her shoulder. “Cloudhopper?”

  She immediately closed the connection. “Nothing,” she said. “An old message.” She turned to face him. “Listen, we may have evaded those ground forces, but we still have several of them inside the ship. We need to get out of here before they find us.” She pointed to one of the outer doors. “Open that one.”

  He walked over and pressed the large green button located next to the door. It spiraled open to reveal a one-person fighter craft inside hovering just off the floor.

  “So, this is a Tracer,” he said as he ran his hands along the light-gray outer hull. The ship was wedge-shaped—about five meters long by four meters wide, and had a central cockpit with wrap-around windows. It was decidedly angular, compared to most of the curved-hull virtual designs he was more familiar with. He climbed up on one of the flat-sided sections and peered in the window at the cockpit. “Are these things difficult to maneuver?”

  “Get inside,” she said. “I need to be here to activate the launch floor.”

  He was about to ask how, when he noticed a small gold-colored panel behind the window. He touched it and the upper canopy of the Tracer slid forward, opening up the cockpit. He climbed down into the reclined chair and felt the cushions molding themselves to his body. The internal layout of the vehicle reminded him of a tactical fighter. The dashboard surrounded him on three sides with a large scanner display in the middle. Right of the scanner, a readout said “Explorer Mode,” and below it a graphic display showed weapon, shield, and energy status. The left side had a display showing the status of something called Tools, but they all appeared to be empty.

  Someone had obviously designed the vehicle to be recognizable to any experienced game player. What was missing, however, was any form of navigational control. The two T-shaped handlebars near the dashboard looked promising, but neither would budge. “How do you steer this damn thing?” he yelled.

  Before he realized what was happening, the canopy slid back shut, and his Tracer began moving itself to the center of the room. At the same time, the entire floor began to lower. A flat, mirrored plane appeared out his forward window as the descending floor dropped to meet it. His Tracer
then backed off the floor plate, once again on autopilot. When it stopped, the hulk of the Survey Vessel looming over him began to rise.

  “What’s going on, Lorena?” he yelled at the retreating shape. “Can you hear me?”

  “You shouldn’t have come inside, Doyen,” she said.

  What the hell? “Where did you hear that name?” he asked.

  “Aren’t you just a little bothered that I have now made a fool of you twice in just a few days?”

  He stared out his forward window at the rising ship, unable to believe what he had heard. “Klaxon? You can’t be the same woman I met in the coffee shop,” he said. “There must be two of you working together.”

  “Only one,” her voice said. “Deception is the number one rule of Plumbers, remember?”

  “I have a great memory. Even with the different hair and the glasses, I would know. That wasn’t you.”

  The Survey Vessel was now high above him, hovering like a large saucer-shaped balloon. “Remember the vanilla scent?” she asked. “Pretty strong, wasn’t it? You could say it was overpowering.”

  Overpowering, he repeated to himself. “You drugged me?”

  “It’s a designer narcotic in aerosol form. Screws up your memory just a bit. Also affects your reasoning skills. Didn’t you wonder why you tried to run after me? Most people in wheelchairs don’t suddenly forget that they can’t walk.”

  He fought down his rising anger. “Pretty clever, Klaxon,” he said, hoping to stall her while he tried to think of some way to get back up to the ship. “I’ll admit that you took me completely by surprise.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment—coming from you, Doyen.”

  He began pressing panels and making standard hand signals over the dashboard, but nothing seemed to work. The Tracer appeared to be fully active, but not responsive. Was there some key required to make it work for him? “So, you’re the one who put the Predators inside my Cyberphage, and now they’re after you. Didn’t plan that very well, did you?”

  There was a slight pause before she answered. “Obviously, if I had known about the Panspermia bomb you had hidden inside, and what it would do to them, I would’ve made other arrangements.”