Battleground Earth

by Gerry Griffiths

  Even with all that, she knew Rob’s abilities were limited. Cass performed her first task and attached Rob’s zero-g legs. Instead of booty feet, there were specially designed metal studs that could be inserted into sockets strategically positioned throughout the spacecraft both inside and outside so the robonaut would be anchored while moving about; and it made him look more human. Which Cass found comforting, and for some strange reason made her feel less alone.

  She stood Rob next to the nadir window. The next thing she wanted to do was program the various voice commands she would be giving Rob and link them to the appropriate functions he would be performing. This took her longer than she expected, as she had to plug in different USB flash drives and download data to Rob’s operating systems so its cameras and appendage parts functioned properly. There was also a microchip labeled to have artificial intelligence. Cass had no idea if it would be as advanced as iPhone’s Siri. She was curious and decided to download the contents.

  For a demonstration, Cass placed a joystick in front of Rob that was fastened on a plate with a three-foot-long post that she had screwed into the bulkhead.

  She had a small microphone attached to her shirt collar so she could verbally communicate with Rob as well as a touch-screen tablet she could use to select various commands. She thought she would start with a simple introduction.

  “Hello, Rob.”

  There was no response.

  Cass looked at her tablet and saw that she hadn’t activated the speech program. She rectified the problem and tried again.

  “Hello, Rob.”

  “Hello,” Rob replied in a computerized monotone.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “Yes. You are Cass.”

  Of course, I am, you silly boy.

  “That’s right. I’m going to give you some commands.”

  “Very well,” Rob said.

  Was that compliance or did she just hear a tinge of eagerness in Rob’s exchange.

  “Grab the joystick.”

  Rob’s right arm extended and its fingers curled around the black hub.

  “Forward.”

  Rob pushed the joystick.

  “Neutral.”

  The robonaut pulled the stick back to the center of the console.

  “Backward,” Cass said.

  Rob brought the stick all the way back.

  “Neutral.”

  Rob complied and pushed it midway.

  “Left.”

  Again, the movement was correct. Just as it was when Rob was told to shift the stick in the opposite direction.

  “Excellent,” Cass said, pleased that the test had been a success.

  “Thank you, Cass,” Rob replied.

  Cass was shocked, as she hadn’t expected the robonaut to acknowledge being praised for his performance. Maybe she had been wrong underestimating Rob’s potential.

  For the next hour, Cass challenged Rob with a series of dexterity tests to see what the mechanical humanoid was capable of doing and what it couldn’t do.

  Rob passed with flying colors.

  It was time to put Rob to work.

  17

  Jack pulled up to the guard shack and rolled down his window. An Eco-Marine approached while three others stepped around the truck, one standing by Wade’s window while the other two guards inspected the cargo bed.

  “We’d like to join up with your group,” Jack said.

  “Is that right?” the Eco-Marine said, eyeing Jack suspiciously. “Identification.”

  Jack and Wade took out their billfolds and handed over their driver licenses. Wade looked over his shoulder at Debra, sitting in the back seat of the crew cab with Amy. “Did you bring yours?”

  “Yes, I have it right here.” Debra unzipped a small duffle on the seat. She was about to reach inside when the guard ordered her to stop.

  “Open your window and toss the bag out.”

  Debra let down the window. She held the bag out and dropped it on the cement.

  One of the other guards walked around and picked up the duffle. He looked inside and said, “No weapons.” He took out Debra’s wallet, removed her driver license, and gave it to the guard in charge then handed the duffle back to Debra.

  Debra leaned forward. “Please, we have nowhere else to go,” she said, making sure the guard got a look at Amy sitting by her side.

  “Park the truck over there and shut off your engine,” the guard instructed.

  Jack drove through the gate, parked in a stall where three other guards were waiting, and shut off the engine.

  “Now what?” Wade asked Jack.

  “Now we wait.”

  “I’m thirsty,” Amy said.

  “Here.” Debra reached down and picked up the water jug on the floor mat. She removed the cap and tipped the plastic container so Amy could get a drink.

  Wade glanced out the windshield at the rows of three-story buildings. He saw more than a hundred people out and about, most of them in civilian clothes. There were infantry fighting vehicles and armored personnel carriers in the parking lot along with modified heavy-duty commercial trucks with machineguns.

  He could see a long building out on a pier. He looked through Jack’s window and spotted the prison structures on Alcatraz Island out in the middle of the channel. “Think anyone’s out there?”

  “Probably. Don’t tell me you want to go out there?”

  “No. Not on your life.”

  “Someone’s coming over,” Debra said.

  Wade watched as a man and a woman approached Jack’s side of the truck. “They must be from the militia.”

  “Hi, there. I’m Wanda Rafferty-Travis and this is my husband, Frank.”

  Everyone in the truck returned the greeting while Wanda handed the driver licenses back.

  “And you are?” Wanda asked the young girl sitting in the back seat.

  “I’m Amy. I’m seven.”

  “Amy’s almost eight,” Debra said.

  “You like school Amy?” Wanda asked.

  “I guess so.”

  “You mean you have a real school here?” Debra asked.

  “We have excellent teachers. My son, Dillon is a student. In fact, Amy will be in his class.”

  “Did you hear that, Amy?” Debra said. “You’ll be making friends.”

  Amy smiled up at her mother.

  “Let us show you where you’ll be staying and then you can all unpack,” Wanda said.

  “Sounds good,” Wade said. He opened his door and exited the truck. He opened the rear door and helped his wife and daughter out.

  Jack got out and they all assembled in front of the truck.

  “I’m afraid we only have accommodations in the barracks right now,” Wanda said.

  “That’ll be fine,” Wade said.

  “Once you get settled in, I’ll give you the grand tour,” Frank said.

  “So how do we earn our keep?” Jack asked.

  “Have you any combat training?”

  “You might say that.”

  “How about you, Wade?”

  “I’m a lineman by trade, but I’m pretty handy with a gun.”

  “Not too bad with a knife either, if I do recall,” Jack said, reminding Wade of what he had done back at his home.

  Frank and Wanda couldn’t help noticing all the knives strapped on Jack’s belt.

  “Jack was the American Knife Throwers Alliance champion two years in a row,” Wade said.

  “Impressive,” Frank said. “Later, after I show you around, we can sit down and I’ll explain what we do. Get you ready for a patrol.”

  “Sounds fair enough,” Wade said. He put his arms around Debra and Amy. “See guys, everything is going to work out fine. We’ll be safe here.”

  18

  “Is it far?” Ally asked as they headed up a narrow country road into the hills.

  “Another mile or so,” Dr. Gemma Tubbs replied from behind the steering wheel of the van as they sped after their escort, tailgating so close t
hat Ally was sure they were going to rear end the other vehicle.

  Up ahead, two pickups were parked diagonally, blocking the road.

  “Don’t worry, they’re ours,” the veterinarian said, but didn’t bother to slow down.

  One of the trucks backed up and let them go through. Ally looked in her side mirror and saw the truck move back to reform the blockade.

  A high fence ran along the roadside. Every so often, Ally would catch a quick glimpse of a sign. She could see numerous rows of solar panels high above on a grassy hill.

  “So what are the solar panels for, Dr. Tubbs?”

  “For the electric fence; or rather—the corral. It’s the only way we can contain the herds so they don’t wander off. Keeps out rustlers. You know, Ally, you can call me Gemma.”

  “Okay.”

  “We’re here,” Gemma said. She turned into a dirt turnaround and parked next to three RV motor homes in a horseshoe formation. There were also half a dozen four-wheel all-terrain bikes with cargo beds. “This is our home base and where we will be staying for the night.”

  Ally stepped out of the van and went around the back to help Gemma as she opened the rear doors to offload the medical supplies they had brought. “How many head of cattle did you say there were?”

  “Rough count, maybe three hundred,” Gemma said. “We also have about twenty horses, a good size flock of sheep, and a tribe of around two hundred goats.”

  “It’s a shame we can’t keep them at the fort,” Amy said, lifting out a cardboard box and finding it surprisingly heavy.

  “There’s nowhere for them to graze down there. As you can see, there’s plenty of grass to go around up here.”

  “So when do we get started?” Ally asked, adjusting her grip on the box.

  “Right away. Go ahead and put that box in the back of that silver ATV. That’s mine. Yours is the one next to it.”

  “You mean we’re going up in those?”

  “It’s the only way to get medical supplies up there so we can tend to the animals.”

  “Dr. Tubbs, just say the word when you’re ready.” It was Max Simms. He’d been the one driving the escort vehicle. He was carrying an M16 assault rifle instead of his beloved grenade launcher.

  Vince and Julie were slowly approaching. The Eco-Marines were carrying similar weapons, along with sidearms.

  “No Ace and Johnny this time?” Gemma asked.

  “They did a double rotation so I’m giving them some R&R.”

  “Aren’t you the softy?”

  “Don’t let them hear that,” Max said, nodding his head at his team. “Need any help with that?”

  “Please. There’s more vaccine and syringes in that box. You can leave the rest for later.”

  Max picked up the box and balanced it with one hand. He started over to the ATVs while Gemma closed up the van.

  The five got on their bikes and started them up. Max led the way and they headed up a worn trail through the trees.

  It took ten minutes to reach the gate. Max let his bike idle and climbed off. He went over to a control box, inserted a key, and opened the front panel. He flicked off a switch then locked the box.

  He went over, unlocked the padlock, and swung the gate open. He got on his bike and followed everyone through the entrance. He closed the gate and fastened the padlock. Before he got back on the ATV, he opened another control box and reactivated the electrified gate.

  Ally could see the grazing animals. She had never seen so many cattle, horses, sheep, and goats mingled together.

  A roadway had been etched through the grass and led up to a massive steel beamed structure without walls. Rows of hay bales were stacked under the roof, twenty-feet up in the air. A forklift and a flatbed truck were parked nearby.

  Everyone pulled up and turned off their bikes.

  Ally was dismounting when she thought she saw something move between the hay bales. “Did anyone see that?”

  “See what?” Max said.

  “Over there,” Ally said and pointed between two rows of hay.

  “How big?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Max looked at Gemma. “What do you think?”

  “There’s alfalfa in there. Could be blister beetles.”

  “Shit, not those things again.”

  “Aren’t they extremely toxic?” Ally asked.

  “Very,” Gemma said. “They excrete cantharidin, which is highly poisonous to the livestock.”

  “And can burn the flesh right off the bone,” Vince said.

  “Listen up Eco-Marines. Time to search and destroy.” Max readied his M16 and started down one row. Vince and Julie aimed their weapons and chose separate rows.

  “We better get back in case they flush one our way,” Gemma warned. They moved away but still had a view of the Eco-Marines.

  “I see it!” Julie hollered. She fired off a steady barrage, ripping apart a hay bale and sending straw flying everywhere.

  Ally was horrified when a giant blister beetle raced down a row, heading directly at her and Gemma. Vince was chasing the beetle but he couldn’t get a clear shot without striking either Ally or Gemma.

  The six-foot long beetle came to a sudden halt, raised its anus, and blasted Vince who ran directly into the hot chemical stream. Vince dropped his rifle and grabbed his face, screaming. Amy could actually see the flesh bubbling on his face. Still screaming, he fell to his knees.

  Max came around just as the beetle was about to flee and riddled the carapace with holes, emptying his clip. “Son of a bitch!”

  “There’s another one,” Julie yelled and began firing.

  Ally and Gemma ran over to Vince. He was in a great deal of pain, curled up on his side. He’d stopped screaming but was lying there, whimpering.

  Julie came running up. “I nailed it.” She took one look at Vince. His face looked hideous, like a burn victim that had been trapped in a three-alarm fire. “Oh, jeez.”

  Gemma assessed his injury. She looked up at Max who was standing over her. “He needs to go to triage. I don’t think there’s anything I can do for him.”

  “Vince? Can you hear me?” Max shouted.

  “Oh God. I can’t see,” Vince cried out.

  “Take it easy, son,” Max said. “We’re taking you back. Just hold on.”

  “I really must stay here,” Gemma said.

  “We can’t leave you alone.”

  “I’ll stay,” Ally said.

  “No, you don’t get it. You’re not safe out here without our protection.”

  “I can take Vince,” Julie said.

  “You sure?”

  “Max, I’m an Eco-Marine.”

  “All right. Let’s all go back to the motor homes. Then we can load Vince in the transport and Julie can take him back.” Max looked at Gemma. “I’ll stay.”

  “Okay,” Gemma said.

  They got Vince to his feet, helped him over to Julie’s ATV, and laid him on his back on the short cargo bed with his legs dangling off the back.

  “Let’s head out!” Max yelled.

  The four bikes roared off down the dirt road.

  19

  Cass rolled out of the Quest airlock and clipped on her tether. Her Extravehicular Mobility Unit space suit was bulky and weighed 280 pounds on Earth, but out in space the only strain on her body was that it was restricting and cumbersome.

  Several inner pressurized layers of insulation protected her body; the outer skin of the suit both bulletproof and fire-resistant. Without the pressurized suit, Cass would become unconscious within 15 seconds, and her body would swell to twice its size—and she would die a relatively excruciating death.

  Her cap was equipped with a microphone and earphones.

  “Rob, exit the airlock.”

  Cass gazed through the clear impact-resistant plastic of her helmet and watched Rob float out. She grabbed its tether and secured the anchor end to the spacecraft to prevent the robonaut from drifting haplessly out into space. She had taken e
xtra precautions and had covered the humanoid’s body with material she had fashioned out of thermal sheets to prevent the extreme temperatures from damaging Rob’s operating systems and mechanisms.

  Her first undertaking was to try and repair at least one of the four ARISS antennas that were used for transmitting signals on amatuer radio frequencies from the space station down to Earth. The second task was to dislodge the chunk of asteroid blocking the hatchway into the Soyuz escape module. None of which would be easy, especially as this was only Cass’s second spacewalk.

  She was shocked to see the extensive structural damage to the trusses, which were the backbones of the space station connecting the various modules, the solar panels, and the radiators used to dispel heat.

  Cass grabbed Rob by the arm as the robonaut didn’t have self-propulsion and activated the thruster attached to her life-support system backpack. She gave it a short burst propelling them between the cylindrical superstructures until they reached the module that housed the antennas.

  “Rob, stay.” The robonaut responded by latching its zero-g legs to the module’s outer shell.

  She did a complete circumnavigation and found only one antenna. The asteroids had scraped off the other three. She assessed the damage. The antenna mast was bent but hadn’t snapped apart and the ground plate had lifted up. She figured the cable had disconnected from the coupler and was the reason why she was unable to receive or broadcast a signal.

  “Rob, come,” Cass ordered. She waited for Rob to disengage then pulled its tether. The robonaut sailed over the twenty-foot span. She put out her gloved hand and stopped Rob before it could collide into her.

  “Rob, stay.”

  Rob attached its foot studs in the sockets next to the base of the antenna.

  “Well done,” Cass said.

  “Thank you, Cass.”

  She still wasn’t used to Rob addressing her back, especially when she was issuing it basic commands as though it were a dog.

  Cass opened the tool belt mounted on her suit’s chest. She had to look at a mirror attached to her right wrist in order to see the set of magnetic tools. She chose an adjustable wrench and took out a clear pouch.