Fault Lines

by Mark Lingane

  The man continued to move away from the youngsters. They scrambled down the rubble onto the footpath, and hid under the remains of an eave. The man was trying not to look directly to the side where the children were. As soon as they indicated they were safe he turned and ran in the opposite direction.

  The robot picked up the running man. It scanned his face and its eyes went red. It twisted off the man’s head with no effort. His scream was cut short as his lungs were separated from his throat. The scream echoed in Hanson’s ears, and made her stomach contract. The robot threw aside the limp body and crushed the head in its pincer-like fingers.

  The horror of the scene washed over Hanson. If all the satellites that had plummeted to Earth could do this, how were they going to survive? Looking at the wreckage around her, the answer was not positive.

  One of the escaping children, a small girl, had seen the event and screamed. She stood there screaming and staring at the robot. It turned toward her, its weapons spinning around and its eyes glowing. Child, what are you doing? Hanson screamed in her head.

  The robot stepped forward and aimed its weapon. Against all her instincts, Hanson jumped up and shouted. But she was too late. The pathetic smear of red over the ground was all that was left of the child. The robot rotated and stared at her. Its eyes twirled as it focused on her face. The eyes turned green.

  “Secondary target detected. Acquisition in progress.” The female voice was smooth and calm. The clunking robot started to march toward her.

  Hanson ran toward the remains of the hospital before realizing she would be leading the robot to Chambers and Cally. She couldn’t do that. Then, to her horror, another giant robot appeared from Lambeth Palace Road and started to smash its way through the hospital, taking out great chunks of the ancient stone building with single swings of its fists.

  She panicked. Fear overtook her and her mind turned to stone. She staggered toward the approaching robot. One word punctured through the mental fog: run. She turned and ran, but fell as something wrapped around her ankle. She looked down. A charred body had grabbed her. The white eyes were bright against the blackened skin. The mouth tried to move, but no words came. Hanson attempted to scramble away, but the hand had tightened and she couldn’t break free.

  The robot towered above her. It brought its weapon around and targeted her.

  The sun poured in through Field Marshal Norton’s office window. The summer was being immensely and unusually charitable, and provided an eternal blue sky. It was nearly impossible to believe the world was shortly going to be at war. He picked up the phone. It took several attempts and circuit jumps before Hubbard answered the call.

  “Debrief me, General,” Morton said.

  The voice on the line was thin and uncertain. “It didn’t go exactly as planned. We’re now addressing the situation.”

  A loud explosion rocked the building and the line went dead. All power in the building had failed. Norton’s collection of speaker magnets shot across the room. He looked out the window. The sky was full of objects burning through the atmosphere.

  “Oh, my God.”

  High up in the atmosphere, a flash of light erupted and a faint wave rolled down to cover the city. The traffic lights went out. The whole neighborhood grid was down.

  A light beam sliced directly into Westminster Abbey, causing a fireball to erupt. Both Houses had been called for an emergency sitting regarding the attack on Turkey. He knew the House of Lords had already started. Anyone who had turned up would now be dead.

  He checked his cell phone: nothing. The iPad: dead. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out the gray handset and typed his code. The line was silent. A wisp of smoke drifted out of the mouthpiece. His office was electronically dead. He heard a grinding from the street and turned as a piece of metal five feet wide came smashing through his window.

  41

  HANSON HEARD GUNS whirring and looked up. The robot loomed above her. A holographic display appeared next to her. Through terrified eyes she caught the image of Cally as it flashed by. Her face appeared next. Her eyes were drawn to it until the empty clicking of a weapon brought her attention back to the robot.

  The robot lowered the gun and reloaded. It retargeted her. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

  Metal screeched and groaned next to her and a moment later she was up on her feet. Her eyes snapped open as Chambers hauled her away, the bullets that flew out of the robot’s weapon narrowly missing them both.

  “Left!” a voice yelled. “Left. Head left. Three steps, stop, then duck.”

  The robot staggered awkwardly, with various parts swinging wildly, its lethal movements now appearing to be out of synchronization.

  Holding Hanson, Chambers ran forward three steps, then ducked. The great mechanical arm swung over them, again narrowly missing them.

  “Follow me,” Cally shouted. He blinked, then winced, and ran forward between the legs of the giant robot.

  Hanson was pulled along, unable to grasp what was happening. They ran erratically across the grass, hiding behind obstacles as someone counted out loud. In her mind was a terrifying image of the small figure, an image that had appeared underneath her floating face. Date of death. It was today’s date.

  Bullets flew, things exploded and destruction rained down. But somehow it missed them, always by the narrowest margin.

  “Don’t panic,” Cally said. “Do as I say and we’ll survive. Most importantly, listen carefully and don’t panic.”

  The three hid behind the crushed remains of two cars. The ground vibrated under the heavy footsteps of the roaming robots as they searched the area.

  Cally muttered a quick countdown as one of the robots lifted up the crumpled cars, exposing them. “Don’t panic,” he reminded them. “Wait here until I get back.”

  The robot tossed the cars aside and reached down toward Chambers and Hanson.

  Cally jumped to his feet and sprinted into the center of the grassed area. He jumped up and down, waving his arms and shouting.

  The robot turned toward him. “Target acquired,” it intoned. “Termination procedure commencing.”

  Cally continued to wave his arms. He started running toward the river. “I’m here!” he yelled at the robot.

  Chambers shouted at him, but Cally yelled back, “You need to trust me. Stay there till I get back.”

  The robot had turned its enormous frame toward Cally and had started to follow him. Its weapon wheeled around and locked onto Cally’s young body.

  A silver craft materialized out of thin air, accompanied by a loud crack of thunder. The craft plummeted down and fired. Cally waited, mumbling under his breath, then turned and ran back toward Chambers and Hanson. The grass where he had been standing erupted. The force of the explosion sent a pressure wave rippling forward and under the feet of the robot, destabilizing it.

  The silver craft, unable to change its trajectory, rocketed down and crashed into the robot. The robot toppled to the ground under the force. The craft disappeared, followed by another clap of thunder as the resulting vacuum was filled.

  “Come on,” Cally shouted, “follow me. Left.”

  As the robot crumpled down onto one knee they ran behind its back. It tried to rotate its head, but the mangled metal restricted its movement. It twisted its body around and collapsed to the ground with a deep crunch as its targeting system tried to follow them.

  The second robot turned toward them and started its own slow paces.

  The first robot started diagnostics. Its AI display unit flashed schematics: RECONFIGURE. The robot moved slowly, grinding the metal of its body and ripping itself apart. A severed arm fell free. The robot picked it up and started after the fleeing trio. It took aim.

  Cally stopped and held out his hand, indicating for the others to wait. He glanced behind them toward the second robot, which was coming toward them. Cally’s face contorted in pain. He blinked. He pushed the others away and dived to the ground as the maim
ed robot fired its dislocated arm. The bullets sizzled past them and struck the leg of the second robot, twisting the limb and blowing it apart.

  Chambers grabbed the pale-faced Hanson and helped her up.

  “Quick,” Cally shouted, waving for them to follow, “we need to get to the hotel.” He ran past them in the wrong direction.

  “The hotel’s over that way,” Chambers shouted, pointing.

  “It wasn’t, not yet.”

  “What did you say? Cally, this isn’t the time to be making no sense,” Chambers said.

  The second robot was limping along on its remaining leg, unrelenting in its directive.

  Two silver craft roared across the Thames, blasting lasers. The bright beams of light lanced through the air, leaving a searing trail of smoke. The earth erupted as the lasers sliced toward them.

  The robot’s fist slammed down next to them, shaking the turf.

  Chambers fought for balance as he twisted away from the onslaught. “This is very scary,” he shouted.

  Cally ran directly toward the limping robot. He jumped onto its remaining leg and ran up to the head. The robot contorted its body, trying to turn. It swung its arm up just as Cally jumped free, and smashed its fist into its own head.

  Cally ran back to the other two. “Quick, we had run over to the fancy hotel,” he shouted.

  Chambers and Hanson sprinted toward the Marriot, followed closely by Cally. They ran across the road and into the long arch-filled driveway. The entrance to the hotel had been destroyed, the partial demolition creating piles of rubble.

  Cally pulled them aside into one of the arches. “Helped me,” he shouted, as he started to dig down through the bricks.

  Soon they had revealed a small crawlway. They jumped inside, and seconds later emerged in the hotel foyer, which had been left largely untouched by the outside devastation. Air thick with dust made them wheeze and splutter. They all collapsed, fighting for breath. Explosions throbbed through the walls, reminding them that their sanctuary might be temporary.

  Chambers found some rags behind the cracked remains of the concierge desk. He tied one around his face and handed one to Cally.

  Hanson sat against a wall, rocking back and forth. “The people,” she mumbled, lost in delirium. “They’re all dead. Reggie … you were …”

  Chambers went over to her and tried to tie a cloth around her face.

  She pushed him away and staggered to her feet. “Why are those things hunting us?” She started frantically searching the walls. The hysteria in her voice reached a crescendo. “How do I get out?” she screamed. “We have to get to a safe place.”

  Chambers slapped her. She narrowed her eyes and punched him in the face. She kicked his knee out, swept her leg around, knocking him to the ground, and kicked him in the ribs.

  “I think she was better when she was hysterical,” Cally said.

  Hanson’s eyes focused and she took in her surroundings for the first time. “The hospital … where is it?”

  “It’s gone,” Cally said. “Blown away.”

  “We need to find somewhere safer to hide,” Chambers stood up and rubbed his ribs.

  “You had that bag when I went back into the hospital,” Hanson said.

  “You didn’t go back to the hospital,” Chambers told her.

  “I did.” She hesitated. She was sure she had. But she couldn’t have.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Chambers shouted. “One minute we’re concerned about a sniper with messages from the future, now we’re in the middle of an alien invasion.”

  “That date,” mumbled Hanson. “What’s significant about today?”

  “It was complex,” Cally replied. “I won’t understand it yet.”

  “Cally, what’s going on?” Hanson said. “You’re important in all this. You must know something.”

  “I will know yet.”

  “Why are you speaking like … like …” Hanson fought for words. “Stop speaking like that!” she snapped.

  Cally held up his hands. “We will have been okay. Ten minutes we have before we had to leave.”

  They both stared at him. Chambers’ face contorted in confusion. He turned away.

  Cally slumped down with his bag on his lap. They remained silent until he spoke again. “We have to go,” he said, without looking up. “Us three. Must.”

  Chambers looked at Hanson. “What’s going on?” he said, as he took in Hanson’s appearance. She was struggling to comprehend the reality around her, and a mania was creeping over her features.

  “It’s horrible,” she whispered.

  “We need to go,” repeated Cally, slinging his bag over his shoulder, “if we’re going to survive.” He was staring at them.

  “Where can we go?” Hanson said to Cally. She staggered back, her head reeling, as though she was tumbling uncontrollably. She looked into Cally’s eyes and blinked. They were now a vivid blue, and the pupils were spinning. Cally didn’t blink. She felt herself falling forward toward him, sucked into a great mental whirlpool.

  “Down!”

  42

  CALLY GLANCED AT his watch. “Follow me,” he said. “The sewers are our only chance of safety. We get to a safe point in the hospital. Everyone who will survived down there.”

  Hanson shook her head, struggling to understand Cally’s strange speech. “Why are you speaking in a weird future-slash-past tense?” she said.

  “I’ve seen it happen. You want to survive the attack … and you do. You did it in the sewers.”

  “You’re saying you’ve seen the future? How is that possible?” Hanson’s mind tumbled.

  “The power in the car. It did something to me.”

  “That car did feel amazingly weird in a really horrible way,” Chambers said.

  Cally led them back through the crawlway to the front of the building. They clambered out, taking in the destruction. The north section of the hotel had been smashed, revealing destroyed hotel rooms. Bodies lay broken and crushed against the interiors.

  They took off back down the arcade driveway under Westminster Bridge toward the hospital.

  Cally glanced back over his shoulder at the river as they approached the entrance. “Quick,” he said. “Quick, run.”

  They pushed through the front doors of the hospital just as another silver craft appeared, rocketing down from the north. The entrance to the hospital exploded, and they found themselves on the floor of the corridor. The construction offered no protection from the immense force, and the ancient building cracked. Pieces fell from the ceiling; a large chandelier landed next to them and showered them with glass. The entire front of the building started to shift.

  Cally shouted for them to follow him and he sprinted ahead, deeper into the building. He ran in a confusing pattern, constantly doubling back on himself and changing direction. He stopped and looked both ways, then said, “We have to … went this way.” He blinked, nearly bent over with pain. “And ran.”

  Hanson began to tire, the fatigue of the previous days wrapping around her and pulling her down.

  Still, Cally drove them on with dizzying instructions. “You, policeman,” he said to Chambers, “you lifted the floor and … no, it’s changing.” He staggered backward, clutching his hands to his head. “We run this way. Don’t look left.”

  Hanson glanced to the left as a large section of the building fell away, revealing another huge robot smashing into the building.

  They found a stairwell and charged down it to the basement. Cally pushed open the door and they were hit by the familiar smell of death. The room was full of bodies that had been recovered from the plane crash and were awaiting identification. The wall disappeared, pulled back by a metal fist.

  “Now, policeman—”

  “The name is Reggie,” Chambers said.

  Cally pointed to the large waste chute. “Lift the grate.”

  Chambers slotted his fingers through the grating and pulled it free.

  The robot lunged down, grab
bing a handful of bodies. It scanned them one by one, casting them aside as they failed the recognition test. It grabbed another handful of people as the trio slipped down the chute and disappeared into the dark sewage system below.

  They slipped out the end of the metal tubing and landed in a pool of blood and bodily waste. Hanson screamed. The smell made them gag. They crawled away toward a small set of stairs that led up to a sewage tunnel. The ancient brickwork felt secure as they slumped down against the rounded wall.

  “There’ll be lots of people here. We’re safe,” Cally said. He pulled out his phone and started to play a game, the radiance from the screen lighting up his face.

  The dim, cold glow of the tunnel outlined their bodies, but illuminated nothing beyond. Blackness and silence lay in both directions.

  “Your phone’s working,” Chambers said.

  “Yes, but there’s no signal down here.”

  Chambers pulled out his own cell phone. It was dead.

  “Is that strange behavior?” Hanson said to Chambers.

  “He’s a teenager. Who knows?” Chambers moved over to Hanson, reaching out for her hand. She flinched as he touched her. “Are you all right?’

  “Just give me a minute. I need …”

  “I understand.” Chambers stood up and took the young boy aside.

  Hanson’s mind was clouded with confusion and fear, but also regret. Alien aircraft were destroying the surface of the city. Duty, responsibility and honor were qualities her father had always reinforced. She had displayed none of those things. She glanced at her watch. It was completely dead. It no longer displayed her heartbeat. Was that because she had no heart?

  She looked over at Chambers; her thoughts had not been honorable. She had committed to one man, and Rod was where her duty and responsibility lay. She had abandoned all of that. Why? She couldn’t bear to say the answer.

  The conversation between Chambers and Cally drifted over to her.