by SD Tanner
Nodding, he replied, “Yeah, okay, that sounds like a plan.”
Lexie had clearly grown bored watching them talk, and she jumped down from the beam, landing with a loud thud next to them.
“What are you talking about?”
Tapping her helmet, he said, “Take it off.”
She pulled the helmet from her head, revealing her silver orb eyes and cropped blonde hair. “What are you being so secretive about?”
“We need you to join our missions.”
“Ark already told me that, so that’s not much of a secret.”
“It’s more than that. We need you to join our squad.”
“What does that mean?”
“You need to be a member of our combat squad.”
She gave him a confused look. “I don’t get what difference that makes. I’m going with you on the missions, so what else do you expect me to do?”
He shook his head and then realized she couldn’t see him. Touching her chin, he said, “It’s not about what you do, but where your loyalties lie. When you’re part of a squad, you do what’s good for the squad.”
“But I am part of a squad. I’m…I’m with CaliTech.” Seeming confused, she trailed off and then added, “I’m with Ark…and Tank and Donna, right?”
“Ark is our battle commander, so he’s part of our combat squad and so is Tank. Donna is part of the support team that keeps us operational in theater, like the engineers do. You need to understand the team structure you’re in and where you fit.”
“Are you saying I belong in the combat squad?” she asked doubtfully.
“Yeah, Lexie, and you need to follow my orders when we’re outside the wire. Ark will direct you during battle, but that’s only because he’s able to see through your visor. He’s helping you compensate for being blind and unskilled in battle, but we don’t have the same requirement. If our visors aren’t working in combat, we can always switch to reality viewing. When we’re outside the wire, I’m the mission leader, and you have to follow my orders.”
Screwing up her face, she replied archly, “Then you need to make up your mind. I’m either a soldier or I’m not. I’m just as happy not to be one, but if you want me in your squad then you need to train me properly, and not just make fun of me when I fuck up.”
Trigger grinned. “That’s a fair point, Lexie, and we’ll work on training you in weapons and combat conditions, but laughing at you comes with the territory, so you’ll just have to learn to live with that.”
Snorting disdainfully, she asked, “What about Tank? Is he in your squad too?”
Tank had been a Sergeant First Class, so he was senior to him in rank, but he’d left the army a few years earlier. Tuck, Trigger and Jenna were with him and he was confident Tank would seamlessly join their squad.
Nodding, he replied, “Yeah, Tank knows how this plays. He’ll be fine with it.”
Lexie shrugged. “If Ark and Tank are okay with it then I’m good too.”
Turning to his squad, he said, “Okay, we’ll train in theater. That means we’ll check out the nest and head back to Albuquerque.”
“What about NORAD?” Tuck asked.
“I dunno. Let’s do this first and then we’ll reassess our priorities.”
CHAPTER SEVEN: Bear of little brain (Dayton)
While the machine hummed contentedly, the screen displayed an image he’d never seen before. It was a black mass inside a sharp outline with a tiny center of grey. Putting his thumb and index finger on the touch screen, he expanded the area and it turned a shade of red, with deep patches of color speckled through it.
“It looks like a liver,” the woman next to him remarked flatly.
“They might be a strange species, but I’m pretty sure they don’t keep their liver in their heads.”
The medical techs had nicknamed the humorless woman sitting next to him, “One-of-One”. When he asked why, he was told it was based on a sexy cyborg in a television program. The medical techs claimed she was so weird there couldn’t possibly be more than one of her, hence why she was called One-of-One. He’d never been told her real name and he hadn’t bothered to ask. She answered to One-of-One and that was good enough for him.
“Do they even have a liver?” She asked.
“What?”
“You said you didn’t think they’d keep their liver in their heads, so do you think they have one?”
One-of-One was a neurosurgeon specializing in the central and peripheral nervous systems, and she’d worked closely with medical engineers to develop the orbs. They’d replaced the human eye with a round metal ball containing computers. The ball was linked to the optical nerve, and it delivered data through electrical pulses directly to the brain. They’d replaced Lexie and one other person’s eyes, but the other person with orbs was too old to be trained as a fully functioning Navigator.
Joining their medical team wasn’t proving to be easy. They weren’t doctors who were familiar with treating patients, but scientists working in labs to create a new technology. Most of them had no social skills, and none of them ever considered the needs of the patient. A psychologist called Sally had introduced herself when he’d arrived. She supposedly dealt with the human needs associated with the gear, but he found her just as strange as the rest of them. Sally was a nervous woman who couldn’t maintain eye contact for long, and his conversations with her had been very formal and brief.
Pointedly clearing his throat, he said with exaggerated patience, “It’s not a liver.”
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t know. You’re the brain surgeon, you tell me.”
“I’m not a brain surgeon. I’m a clinical neurophysiologist, and I’m telling you that the mass in the center of its head looks like a liver, so do they have one?”
“I don’t know, but if they do then I’m pretty damned sure they wouldn’t keep it in the center of their skulls.”
Trying to remain patient, he flicked the image on the screen to view the torso in the MRI scanner. It was even stranger than the head he’d been examining. Using his fingers to expand the screen again, he zoomed in on the center of the body. There appeared to be a thin tube running straight down the middle of the torso. Changing the image again, he zoomed in on one of the skinny limbs, and it too had a long, thin tube running through it.
“What do you think the tubes are?”
“Nervous system.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Something makes them move. The body must receive its instructions from somewhere and the orders are sent to the rest of the body, so it’s a nervous system.”
“Why’s the brain so small?”
“Maybe it’s not a brain.”
He couldn’t think of a single complex living creature that didn’t have a brain, but then he didn’t know of any species that didn’t have organs either. “If it doesn’t have a brain then how can it work out what it needs to do in order to direct the body?”
“Maybe the brain isn’t physically attached to the body.”
“What?”
“I said, maybe the brain isn’t physically attached to the body.”
One-of-One wasn’t good with intonations and sighing again, he replied, “I know what you said, I just don’t know how that’s possible.”
Without a flicker of expression, she replied blandly, “The brain sends instructions using electrical impulses. Electrical impulses can also travel through the air, so therefore it is possible to send instructions to the brain remotely. It’s only a question of understanding the port and the language.”
“The port?”
“Yes, the electrical signal has to land somewhere in the brain and that’s the port. Once it’s landed it has to be in the right language for the brain to use it.” Touching the screen and showing the image of the critter’s brain again, she added, “It’s possible this is only a port, and the instructions come from somewhere else.”
“Does that explain why it’s so small?”
> “No. We don’t know exactly how much of the mass of the brain is actually used, but given the criticality of the organ, it’s reasonable to assume there’s considerable redundancy. We suspect much of the human brain isn’t used.”
One-of-One had effectively just said people didn’t use their brains, but he doubted she understood she’d said something funny. “So, you’re saying they could be controlled by another brain somewhere, or they may just have incredibly small brains.”
“I doubt this is the brain.”
“Why?”
“It’s too small. It would imply there’s no redundancy in the system, and even if they did use all of it, they would be incredibly stupid. Are they stupid?”
“Given they just destroyed every city in the country, and possibly the world, in less than a day, I’d say not.”
They needed to analyze what the critters were made of, and he’d learnt as much as he was going to without conducting tests on the tissue. Opening the body of a virtually indestructible creature wasn’t going to be easy, and he hoped the laser scalpel would be powerful enough. If he couldn’t cut through the blackened rubbery body then he’d need someone to blast it open with a good-sized bullet.
While the medical technicians removed the body from the MRI machine, he walked into the lab opposite the scanning area. Inside the room were long tables with water taps and sinks, there were rows of complex equipment on each of the benches and several glass-fronted fridges. Technicians were peering through microscopes and making notes on tablets.
Finding the woman who managed the lab, he asked, “Do you have the results for the goo from the suburbs and the hangar?”
Pushing her glasses up her nose, she replied curtly, “Yes.”
“And…?”
Tapping her tablet, she flicked through various screens and then looked back at him. “It’s plastic.”
“What do you mean?”
“The sample is silicone based, which means it’s a hybrid between a synthetic rubber and a synthetic plastic polymer. So it’s plastic.”
“But it moves.”
“Yes, it does.”
“But it’s plastic.”
“Yes, it is.”
“So, it’s alive, but it’s made of plastic?”
Not appearing even slightly surprised by this discovery, she nodded abruptly.
When the critter in the hangar had exploded into thirty smaller creatures, one of them had spat goo at Ark. It was this and the other goo from the house in Porterville, California that the lab had tested. It meant the critters created a goo that was made of plastic, and he suspected they might also be silicon based. It would explain why they were so hard to kill. Every weapon they had was designed to destroy or damage a carbon based species and not a plastic one. Once he could get a sample from the critter he’d just used the MRI to scan, he thought he could confirm his hypothesis.
“How can it be alive if it’s made of plastic?”
The woman shrugged. “We don’t know. I have a technician analyzing the additional compounds we found in the substance, but…we don’t have any names for what we’re finding.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s like nothing we’ve ever seen before. The molecular structures are illogical. We’ll need a lot more time to break it down to understand how the various elements are interacting with one another.”
“But it’s alive, right?”
She shrugged again. “I couldn’t tell you. It moves so it appears to be alive, but we don’t know why it’s moving.”
“But the soldiers said it didn’t move randomly and that implies it has a brain.”
“Well, if it has a brain then I don’t know where it keeps it.”
One-of-One had said the critters might not even have a brain. If the critters weren’t smart enough to think independently then just who or what was thinking for them. Leon and his squad had gone to the desert and found a nest the size of a pyramid near Pueblo Pintado. Was it possible the nest was protecting something that was controlling the critters? The idea that there was a single brain controlling millions of humans turned into critters seemed impossible to him. What kind of mind could cope with directing the actions of a million creatures? It was unfathomable.
It was more likely that the critters were operating independently and they had very good instincts. A cockroach was able to feed, procreate and fight with almost no brain at all, and maybe these critters were no different. They didn’t need to be intellectually smart if they were driven by well-entrenched instincts. If the goo was composed of plastic, given it was spat by the critters, maybe they were made of plastic too. Their weapons weren’t designed to kill something made of excessively hardened plastic, and they were unlikely to penetrate accurately enough to destroy such a small and well-protected brain.
What he’d learned so far was worth giving Bill and Ark an update, and he walked out of the medical facility to find them.
CHAPTER EIGHT: Plan B (Jonesy)
It was an endless ocean of sand dotted with scrubby bushes, each looking identical to the one next to it, and he couldn’t imagine a more boring place to live. Judging by the regular appearance of small towns along I-15, some people had been happy enough to call the desolate area home.
“We should scavenge some gas.”
Jas was driving and he gave her a tired look. “I guess so. Is it me or is this area the most depressing thing you’ve ever seen?”
“The city was the most depressing thing I’ve ever seen, so I guess it’s you.”
The excitement of leaving Albuquerque and settling into CaliTech had kept him busy for several weeks. Vegas was about three hundred miles from the site and they’d been driving for several hours. With nothing to occupy his mind, he had time to feel and wished he didn’t. Jenny was as good as dead and Miranda might well be too. In a matter of a few hours, his whole life had collapsed and he felt overwhelmingly tired. It wasn’t the sort of fatigue that could be solved with more sleep, but a weariness he felt to the bone.
Trying to stay alert, he asked, “What’s your story, Jas?”
She gave him a surprised sidelong look. “Do you care?”
“It’s a long drive.” Realizing he hadn’t answered her honestly, he added, “You didn’t have to come. It’s dangerous and you keep following me no matter how stupid what I’m doing is. I appreciate it. You would have made an outstanding cop.”
Jas didn’t smile often, but now she gave him a wide grin. “Thanks. I always wanted to be a cop. My Dad was a car mechanic and my Mum was a dental receptionist.”
“Where do they live?”
“In Alamosa in Albuquerque, but they weren’t there when this happened. Mum had always wanted to go to Europe. That’s where they are now. I wonder if this happened there too.”
“Probably, but I don’t think anyone knows for sure. If Bill can get into NORAD then I’m guessing he can find out.”
Frowning and biting her lip, she suddenly looked as young as she was. “I hope they’re okay.” Brightening, she added, “That’s why I went with you in the city. When we found all those people at your apartment and took them to Kirtland, I thought maybe someone will do the same thing for my parents and they’ll be okay.”
The young were always so resilient and prone to optimism. In reality, all he’d managed to do was get less than twenty adults and children out of the city. “It wasn’t enough. We’ve left hundreds of thousands in a desperate situation and we can’t save them.”
Giving him a shocked look, she said firmly, “You’re wrong. You think you have to wheel in with a big army and rescue everyone, but that isn’t how real life works. My Dad always says great things happen when everyone does just one good thing every day. All the little good things add up and they become one great big thing. He says if everyone tried to do one good thing a day, that’d be enough to change the world.”
Her simple outlook on life made him smile. “Your Dad sounds like the kinda guy I would have liked to have had a b
eer with.” Looking ahead, he noticed a sign for a town called Baker. “Let’s check this town out.”
Baker was a small town just off the I-15. In such a flat and uncluttered region, they’d see anything long before it got anywhere near them, and he thought it would be a safe enough place for them stop. Slowing to fifteen miles per hour, Jas drove along the one road running through the town. Although there were few buildings, the town boasted a diner, some stores and a gas station at the end of the road. The power was clearly off, and someone had knocked the pump from its stand, exposing the gas pipes below it.
“Do you think anyone’s here?”
He shook his head. “Hard to say. It’s pretty remote and it would never have had a large population.”
Jas stopped their police cruiser next to the broken pump, and he grabbed his Desert Eagle as he climbed out of their vehicle. CaliTech had a small store of fuel, but the inventory manager had suggested they scavenge gas on the road to conserve their supplies. They could use the pump they’d brought with them to get the gas moving, and he also had several empty gas cans to fill.
While Jas fiddled the petrol driven pump, he warily surveyed the area. Everything was dry and nothing was moving. It was possible everyone had left, but he doubted it. If anything, this was an ideal place to hide from the critters. Jas took over from him to watch the surrounding area, while he fed a hose into the open pipe and started the pump by pulling on the starter. Before the gas began to flow, he shoved the end of the hose into the open tank on the cruiser. Next to the trunk were the large cans ready to be filled once the tank was full. It would take at least five minutes to fill the cruiser and, as he straightened up, the sound of a car caught his attention.
A beaten up Jeep Cherokee slowly drove into the gas station and stopped about fifty feet away. Holding his handgun by his side, he waited to see what the driver would do. After a minute, the passenger door opened and a voice called out, “You cops?”
“Yes…and no.”
