The Installed Intelligence Trilogy Collection

by Phoenix Ward

  “For those of you just joining us today, or those cut off from information since the attacks began—or just anyone living under a rock the past six weeks — don’t be frightened. We will recap the story thus far.”

  The radio threatened to lose its signal, but someone adjusted the antenna and kept the program playing.

  “On February 4th of this year, Master General Blake Tarov — the leader of the I.I. militia group known as the Liberators — hijacked national airwaves to declare war on humanity. The terrorist mastermind positioned hundreds of his meat-puppet spies in key positions throughout the government, allowing them to shut down any form of effective response against his attacks. In fact, it only took the Liberators mere hours to seize control of the government. As far as any American is concerned, they are on their own.

  “Some of these sleeper agents were put in place over two decades prior, making their deception almost impossible to detect. In fact, some of the most prominent figures in politics, the military, and even pop culture revealed themselves to be installed intelligences in disguise. Among them include Supreme Court Justice Margaret Billard, the news mogul Jason Schaan, and even Vice President Kelly Creshire. The takeover was so complete that it was like it had already happened years ago — we just didn’t notice.”

  Beth heard someone cough behind her. No one laughed.

  “Now you’re probably wondering, ‘what about the army?’ ” the presenter continued. “To be honest, it’s a great question. Though hundreds of thousands of men and women in the armed services have sworn to protect humans, a mere fraction have actually rallied to our defense. To the best of our knowledge, this isn’t due to a sudden wave of cowardice or treason, but simply a massive fragmentation of the military leadership. There is no central organization to speak of anymore. Now, soldiers can find themselves a member of any one of the dozens of organizations trying to coordinate a defense against the I.I.s. They’ve certainly helped to repel a number of deadly attacks, but with nowhere near the effectiveness of a unified military.

  “We are reporting from the headquarters of one of the armies at the front line of the struggle, but for the safety of our men and women, we will not disclose which one. My team’s current objective is to report on the war and provide any survivors out there with information that could one day save their lives — or, at the very least, alleviate some boredom.

  “Since the beginning of the war over a month ago, the Liberators and other I.I. extremists have carried out a number of deadly attacks on populated centers of human activity, particularly targeting civilians. A majority of the assailants are I.I.s in possession of bodyshells. However — in some of the more ‘sinister’ attacks — the terrorists used their abilities to possess innocent humans. Imagine your own brother or sister, your wife or husband, turning to you under the command of someone else. Picture their hands wrapping around your throat, blades thrust into your chest. Every attack turns into a terror-fueled bloodbath, with no certainty of who to trust.”

  A few eyes around the clinic shifted to one another. Perhaps there was a bit of paranoia in their expressions — though, Beth could just be imagining things. She hadn’t exactly been in the best state of mind since the war was declared.

  “From what we’ve been able to deduce, the I.I.s are able to take control of a person’s body through a flaw in his or her neural implant,” the radio show host continued. “The simple fix would be to remove the implant — were it not for the fact that its user would certainly not survive such a procedure. The neural implant that almost all of us have are buried far too deep into the nervous system, fused to the brain stem. It’s why they have to be implanted in infants — because the brain must grow around the implant.

  “As the war carries on, more and more attacks are being carried out by these meat puppets. Hundreds have been killed in coordinated shootings, bombings, and even biological and chemical attacks. It seems the Liberators are not abiding by the Geneva convention, but that’s to be expected from a group that considers themselves a superior species. A master race.

  “Entire cities have fallen to the Liberators’ influence. In fact — last time we heard — the city of Las Vegas was, and I quote, ‘devoid of organic human life’. This report seems to imply that, while there are no free-willed humans, there is still a populace of installed intelligences, likely consisting of hundreds of thousands of meat puppets. Imagine it: a city of computer-controlled zombies. All coordinated. All corrupted.

  “The terror isn’t exclusive to the United States, either. Reports from overseas are spotty and inconsistent at best, but we’ve learned of a devastating attack on an art festival in downtown Munich. As best as we are able to understand, approximately thirty I.I. terrorists — having seized control of German soldiers’ implants — opened fire on civilians as they perused the festival at the Munich Praterinsel. There are one-hundred-ninety confirmed fatalities. Similar attacks — also carried out by I.I.s possessing military personnel — have been reported from all over the globe.

  “Europe and Australia, as well as parts of Asia and Northern Africa, have been able to maintain a sense of normalcy for the past few weeks while America burned. Either Liberator forces don’t exist in strong enough numbers to stage an attack, or the governments there are able to fend off the digital terrorists after watching what happened to the U.S. It seems, however, that they only had a head start in the race against extinction. The insurrection against humanity — once believed to be an American issue — now appears to be a human issue.”

  Dr. Miller appeared from the far doorway. He carried a pair of cups, steam rising from the rims. He offered one to Beth, who thanked him before returning her attention to the broadcast.

  “It should go without saying, but it is not safe to go out into public,” the presenter said. “Avoid any areas where dense populations may be likely. Transit stations, parks, shopping centers — even hospitals. Unless it is a matter of life or death, avoid leaving your residence or place of shelter at all.

  “Do not connect to the Net, either. The Liberators and their comrades have been using connection data to locate clusters of survivors. Resist the temptation to log on and try to contact your loved ones — you would only endanger them and yourself.

  “Keep your doors locked, and pay careful attention to those around you. Be vigilant for any strange behavior and make sure no one is unaccounted for long periods of time. If you must leave your shelter, do not go alone. Be wary who you trust — especially if they are unknown to you.

  “Thus concludes today’s broadcast,” the presenter said after clearing his throat. “Before I sign off, I have the final casualty count as of this afternoon. So far, the number of dead humans confirmed is 11,495 and rising. The number of people under control of an I.I. is unknown, but conservative estimates put it in the millions. Thank you for listening, and stay strong. Carry the light.”

  The radio crackled before spouting a fountain of static noise.

  The Stranger

  One of the peas fell out of Beth’s spoon as she lifted it up to her lips. She caught it with her other hand and tossed it into her mouth before chasing it with the rest of the spoonful.

  Seven weeks passed since Tarov declared war on mankind. Beth had been living in the abandoned clinic building that Dr. Miller turned into a safe house ever since. She and the survivors staying there remained indoors for the most part, excepting a few excursions out into the town to find supplies. Some of them talked about taking a voyage to one of the neighboring suburbs to see if anyone had more news to give them, but Dr. Miller said it was too risky. Though there was never a vote, everyone seemed to count on him to lead the group. He seemed more than capable of shouldering the burden, but as the war dragged on, Beth could see pockets of fatigue accumulating under his eyes. Still, he smiled through the terror and discomfort and did what he could to keep spirits high. Part of that included hosting “dinner parties”, where they would all eat supper together, share stories, and entertain each oth
er, like a mini-Thanksgiving every other night.

  They were all eating some thawed vegetables and canned ham when Seth stood up, his eyes locked on the monitor in the corner of the room that showed them constant live footage of the parking lot outside. The others followed his gaze and saw what drew his attention: a man lumbered between the buildings next door and into the clinic’s lot. His gait was clumsy. He appeared to be wounded.

  “Who is that?” Lia asked, lowering her fork back down to her plate.

  “I don’t know,” Dr. Miller said as he approached the monitor. He gazed at it for a few seconds. “I don’t recognize him.”

  “Do you think he knows we’re here?” Bash asked.

  “He’s coming straight to the clinic,” Beth replied. “Either he knows or he has a hell of an intuition.”

  “How would he know we’re here?” Lia asked.

  Everyone either shook their head or shrugged.

  “Maybe he saw us coming back from one of our runs,” Franklin said. “We had someone bring back firewood just this morning.”

  “So why’d he wait until now to come?”

  “We were armed. He probably didn’t want to startle us. Maybe he’s afraid and doesn’t know if we’re human or meat-puppets.”

  “What do we do?”

  “Everyone, quiet!” Dr. Miller shouted in a whisper tone. “He doesn’t know how many of us there are.”

  They watched as the figure knocked on the front door. Some of them jumped at the pounding sound coming down the hall from the lobby. They collectively held their breath.

  “Hello?” a man’s voice called from behind the barricaded front door. His voice cracked with strain. “Is anyone in there?”

  “What’s the plan?” Seth whispered to Dr. Miller.

  There was no reply for a minute as the programmer listened.

  “Please! I know someone’s there!” the man cried. His words seemed drenched in tears as they bled through the plywood. “You have to help me! I need help!”

  “We’ll go to the roof,” Dr. Miller told Seth. “Bring your rifle and don’t say a word. Let me do the talking. If he does anything hostile — ”

  Seth nodded.

  They got up, taking care not to make a commotion. Slinging his gun over his shoulder, the young man followed the scientist up topside.

  There was another monitor displaying the security feed from the roof. It was likely used to monitor any flight-for-life landings, which the clinic had been outfitted to receive. Beth watched Dr. Miller and Seth walk out the roof door and lock it behind themselves. The man in the other monitor seemed to hear the door close because he took a few steps back and scanned the rooftop.

  Seth moved forward first, his gun loaded and up against his shoulder.

  “Stop!” he bellowed. Everyone inside could hear his voice through the leaky windows and the boards that covered them.

  The man in the parking lot raised his hands, showing Seth that he wasn’t carrying a weapon.

  “I’m unarmed! Don’t shoot!” the stranger yelled.

  Dr. Miller stepped up to the edge of the roof where Seth stood.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “Please — I just need shelter,” the man replied. “I’ve walked all the way here from Olympia. The entire city has been overrun. The streets are stained with the blood of anyone who tried to stop them. I ran — I had to run. I don’t know if any of them made it.”

  “You came from Olympia?” Dr. Miller asked. “On foot? I find that hard to believe.”

  “I assure you, the blood in my shoes can confirm the fact.” The stranger wheezed a fake laugh.

  “How did you escape the city?”

  The stranger looked around as if expecting someone to flank him. Even on the monitor, Beth could see the sheer exhaustion in his face. He must be half insane from sleep deprivation, she thought.

  “There was a bombing,” the man answered, staring down at his feet. “That’s how they started the attack. Utter chaos broke out. People were running everywhere, bloodied, trampling over each other. My children — my little boys — they didn’t survive. After seeing them…my instincts just told me to run. I made it out during all the confusion.”

  The two men on the roof waited for him to continue, but he didn’t volunteer any more details.

  “Please, I just need someplace to sleep,” the stranger said. “Maybe some food, if you have any to spare.”

  Beth could see Seth and Dr. Miller turn to each other. Their lips moved, but she couldn’t hear what they said. Then Dr. Miller turned back to the stranger, who propped himself up against the concrete base of one of the parking lot lights.

  “Are you under the control of an installed intelligence?” Dr. Miller asked.

  “Of course not!” the stranger replied, like he was being accused. “My mind is my own.”

  “Well, I hope you won’t be offended, but you’ll have to prove that before we let you in,” Dr. Miller explained. “Meet me at the side door and we’ll administer the test.”

  The stranger simply nodded, then slunk towards the door on the side of the building. Dr. Miller and Seth unlocked the roof access door and came back down into the clinic.

  “I’m backing you up,” Beta said, loading a clip into her handgun.

  “Me too,” Franklin said, carrying a pump-action shotgun.

  Seth nodded at Dr. Miller, who turned back to the hallway that led to the side exit.

  “Wait,” Beth said. “I’m coming with.”

  They could see the stranger through the safety glass of the side door. He glaced all around with a nervous expression until he noticed Dr. Miller and his crew coming to the entrance.

  “Stand back,” Seth ordered the stranger through the closed door.

  The man did so, and Seth led the way out of the entrance. Once everyone was outside, they closed it behind them.

  Dr. Miller stepped forward and looked the stranger in the eye.

  “You ready for the test?” he asked.

  “I suppose so,” the stranger replied.

  Dr. Miller raised his E.M.P. emitter so the man could see it. “If you’re actually a meat puppet, this device will destroy your neural implant and delete any I.I. that may be occupying it. The only way you’ll survive the test is if you’re human.”

  The stranger didn’t even blink. “I’m ready,” he said. “My name is Gary, by the way.”

  Dr. Miller pressed something on the device before waving it over Gary’s skull. The stranger followed the emitter with his eyes, but Beth couldn’t discern what was going through his head.

  She expected the man to start screaming at any moment. She’d seen it happen before, a couple weeks back, when another “refugee” failed Dr. Miller’s test. If there was an I.I. in his brain, the stranger’s eyes would roll back in sheer agony and his mouth would nearly unhinge itself in a skeleton-like scream. Then he would become silent, the color would drain from his face, and he’d collapse to the pavement. That is, if there is an I.I.

  None of that happened. A few seconds that felt like an hour passed and Dr. Miller retracted his emitter. He glanced back at the others.

  “He’s clean,” he said. “Let’s get him inside.”

  No one moved right away.

  “Darren, we’ve only got so much food left,” Beta said, her gun still raised at waist height, ready to be snapped up into action. “Even if he’s clean, we can’t just let him in.”

  “Yes we can, Beta,” Dr. Miller replied. “We can grow more once the snow finishes melting. Besides, I stocked the safehouse in the first place. I say we let him in.”

  Beta furrowed her brow in frustration, but said no more.

  The others watched as Gary stuffed his face with the can of peaches Dr. Miller had fetched him. He didn’t bother with the fork they offered him. Instead, he just dug into the sticky syrup with his filthy bare fingers, fishing out chunks of fruit and shoving them into his mouth, one after another.

  “Someone’s hungr
y,” Simon commented. “I don’t miss that feeling.”

  Everyone seemed a little on edge, except Dr. Miller. As soon as he did his test with the E.M.P. emitter, he lost all doubt about their new guest. He asked for more details of his story, but Gary hardly had breath between bites to say much. The others kept weapons within arms reach and watched him carefully. It took an hour or two before they started to join in on the conversation and relax. Before long, it was like Beth’s first night, when she went from feeling like a total stranger to one of the gang. They were laughing and sharing stories. Dr. Miller even opened up one of the wine bottles from his stash and shared it with everyone.

  When people started peeling away from the group to succumb to sleep, Dr. Miller started setting up a cot for Gary in the pediatric examination room, where Beth had been put. It was the only place left to sleep that wouldn’t drop below zero during the coldest parts of the night.

  Beth was too tired to protest or even care, falling asleep in her own bedding while the programmer set up some for the newcomer.

  Beth felt as though a shadow fell over her face and it pulled her out of an incoherent dream. She blinked a couple times and allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness around her. It was still too early for the sun to be out.

  After a moment, she noticed a form standing over her cot, staring down at her.

  It was Gary.

  “What are you doing?” Beth asked, her voice dry with recent slumber. She reached up and rubbed her eyes instinctively.

  “I’ve locked the door,” Gary replied.

  It took a second for the words to register in her brain, but they woke her up in an instant. She felt a cold wave of fear wash over her body.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “He’s one of them,” Simon said in her head, far more alert than she was.

  But how? Dr. Miller tested him with the E.M.P. emitter, she thought.