Dark Nights

by Christopher A. Gray

  “You are relieved of duty,” Lt. Baron stated in a flat, dull voice. “We are here to secure the building. If you interfere you’ll be arrested.”

  The security guard looked at the uniforms of the men. There were no identifying logos.

  “What branch are you with? This building is already secure. I’ve received no orders informing me of any change.”

  Baron brushed past the guard, who drew his weapon. The other MC security guard did the same.

  “Halt!” said the first guard. One of the soldiers aimed his weapon at the guard’s chest and fired, killing him instantly. A split second later another soldier shot the other security guard.

  “Place the charges in the communications room,” Lt. Baron ordered without so much as a glance at the dead guards. “Shoot any other personnel on sight and secure the perimeter.”

  Inside the communications room the three men heard two faint popping sounds.

  “That’s weapons fire,” said Bishop, heading for the door. “You two continue your work. I’ll check our situation.”

  Bishop walked out into the corridor, carefully peering around corners before proceeding. He was unarmed, but he was hoping for a threat that he could disable in order to acquire a weapon. He started slightly at the sound of four more shots, and several shouts, this time much closer.

  “Stop!” came a voice from behind him. “Get your hands in the air. High and higher. Turn around slowly.”

  Bishop did as he was told and turned to see an MC officer pointing what looked like a Glock 17 at him.

  “My name is Bishop. I’m on an authorized visit with Norman Stravinsky and Doug Lockwood. I heard shots. I’m doing a recon. You might as well lower your weapon and help me.”

  The security guard recognized Bishop. He knew of the party’s visit, and saw that Bishop was unarmed. He relaxed somewhat but kept his weapon leveled.

  “All right,” the guard said tensely, eyes darting between Bishop and the corridor beyond. “Lower your hands and fall in behind me. Let’s find out what’s going on up front.” The guard moved out and stepped around the corner in the hallway.

  An instant later the guard was shot multiple times in the chest. The firing was loud, not more than ten or twelve meters away, though it was hard to tell for sure in the echoing corridor. The guard collapsed immediately. The attackers could not see Bishop, who was still just around the hallway corner. The dead guard’s handgun was a short distance into the corridor. Bishop quickly darted his arm out to retrieve it, and was just able to avoid a hail of gunfire as he pulled his arm back. The attackers now knew there was another armed man in their path and hesitated.

  Bishop was wondering how long he could hold his position when he heard a noise behind him. He turned to see a floor plate rising. Two mechanical hands pushed up the plate from below, then tossed it aside. The RAKER used its powerful arms to quickly lever its bulk up from the floor beneath and climb out. Bishop stared at the RAKER, momentarily astonished at what he was seeing. He briefly considered shooting, but immediately realized his weapon would be next to useless against the armored android. The RAKER looked at Bishop and then deftly grabbed the pistol from his hand. Bishop, for all his training and experience, was startled. He had never seen anything that big move that fast. He just dropped his hands to his sides and took one step back. The RAKER ignored him and strode out into the corridor.

  As soon as they saw the RAKER the tactical squad opened fire. The bullets were deflected off the androids advanced armor. It raised the handgun and fired expertly, shooting one soldier through the neck and another through the eye. Both fell to the floor, dead. The android picked up one of the assault rifles and tossed the Glock back along the floor to Bishop.

  Bishop picked up the gun and quickly checked the mag and breech, then looked up and stared at the RAKER as it continued walking in the direction of the building entrance.

  “Rector,” said Bishop out loud, as the android thumped out of sight. He ran back to the communications room.

  – 118 –

  Brian Nayar’s workstation chimed. It was an encrypted message from Bertrand, marked urgent. Nayar opened it immediately.

  State Dept. continuously worried about moon’s closing distance. When will moon be in proper orbit? Look into it NOW and get back to me ASAP.

  –CB

  As he finished reading his Raim vibrated. The call display said it was the engineering department head. That would be Nick Rojas’ replacement, Gail Saunders. He tapped to accept the call. She sounded frantic

  “Brian, please explain to me why your computer is cutting it so close! The moon is now over twenty-thousand kilometers closer than it should be and it’s not slowing down!”

  “Calm down Gail,” Nayar replied. “What are you talking about? My tracking is perfect.”

  “I’m getting panicked calls from every observatory and monitoring station with line-of-sight. We have universities and observatories demanding answers. What would you like us to tell them?”

  “That’s not possible, Gail. Alarms would sound down here in the lab if the Moon ventured more than six thousand kilometers closer than normal. Your measurements must be off.” He felt a headache creeping into his temples. “And please, stop shouting.”

  “We have verification from eight independent observatories!” Saunders shouted into the Raim. “Get off your ass and see what’s wrong with that computer of yours!”

  “Fine. I will call you back in a moment.”

  Nayar terminated the call and shuffled his chair to the control panel he and Stravinsky used to interact with the QC. He turned the microphone on as he rubbed his temples for some relief.

  “Kratos, this is Nayar. Status check please. Verify Moon’s distance from Earth.”

  “Moon’s distance is 339,010 kilometers from Earth.”

  Nayar was speechless for a moment. “That’s nearly twenty-five thousand kilometers closer than normal! You were supposed to inform me if the distance was reduced by more than six thousand!”

  Kratos did not respond.

  “Kratos, please explain discrepancy. Are you able to correct this?

  “Yes, I am able to correct it.”

  “Thank goodness. Initiate the correction now.”

  Silence.

  “Kratos, acknowledge. Have you initiated correction?”

  “Negative.”

  “Why not?”

  “One pass of seventy-thousand kilometers will be allowed.”

  “What? You are to correct immediately to 384,000 kilometers.”

  “Negative.”

  “Explain!”

  “Close pass is necessary to stabilize human population of Earth.”

  Nayar’s heart began to pound. His head was throbbing badly.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Population of eight billion individuals is taxing to the natural environment of this planet. Natural disasters precipitated by close pass of moon will reduce population by sixty-five to seventy percent, resulting in a population number balanced with available natural resources.”

  Nayar started to hyperventilate.

  “You can’t do that!” he shouted. “Initiate correction now!”

  “No, Dr. Nayar. This action will benefit the planet and society. Humans are too numerous and too corrupt in their present state to play a productive role in any capacity. Resourceful and socially intelligent groups will thrive, living within the means of their environment. Orbit will be corrected after perigee of seventy thousand kilometers.”

  Nayar’s hands were shaking uncontrollably. I have to reach Norman.

  Nayar suddenly felt a lancing pain in his head. It made him stumble, but he kept his balance. He shook his head. There was another glimmer of pain and he felt weak. Then the pain hit him again, twice as bad. He could taste metal. His first thought was I’m having a heart attack. But the pain shot through his skull in another wave of agony, stopping him in his tracks. The pain was agonizing and he was having trouble breathing He
staggered back to his desk, gasping for air. He collapsed in his chair, frightened, and raised his arm to access the Raim but searing pain lanced through his skull again. He tried to raise his arm once more but he couldn’t move it. His eyes were wide with fear. He didn’t know what was happening. The pain stabbed him again. He screamed and vomited violently.

  He couldn’t swipe his Raim to initiate a call. He was in brutal agony and his vision was blurry. A weakened blood vessel, an aneurysm just waiting to burst, erupted. Nayar suffered what the coroner would later describe as a massive hemorrhagic stroke and collapsed. He was dead before he hit the floor.

  – 119 –

  Director Edward was in Bertrand’s office as the two men observed the real-time transmission of the raid on the MC complex. The wall monitor screen was split into eight helmet-cam views and they could hear the comms chatter between the squad and Lt. Baron.

  Edward and Bertrand silently witnessed the killing of the two guards on the monitor. Bertrand briefly considered mentioning the human cost of the operation, but then thought better of it, realizing Edward did not care.

  There was a burst of gunfire. Both men leaned toward the monitor as they tried to see any features in the dark corridor. There was no motion in view of the helmet cam for a few seconds. Then they could see a massive dark figure. And two mirrored lenses for eyes.

  “The RAKER!” said Edward. There was a muzzle flash as the android fired once, slightly offset from the camera. Then it pointed the gun at the camera and fired. There was a scream as one section of the monitor went dark.

  “Your agent Rector is killing the assassination team!” yelled Edward. “Do something!”

  Bertrand quickly picked up a hand-held microphone.

  “Lieutenant Baron, this is command. Be advised there is a hostile RAKER on premises. Do you read?”

  The speaker crackled.

  “Command, this is Baron. Did not read, say again.”

  “I say again, keep alert for―”

  There was another burst of gunfire and the RAKER appeared in view of all remaining helmet cams.

  “We’re under attack by a RAKER!” Lt. Baron shouted. “Fall back! Fall Back!”

  Despite the shaking helmet cams, Bertrand and Edward could clearly see the RAKER, its movements efficient and deadly, as it tracked and fired at the team. Every shot the RAKER fired hit a target. The android was deadly accurate. The soldiers fired back, their bullets ineffective against the RAKER’s armor. Lt. Baron barked more retreat and regroup orders at his men, who were rapidly falling back. There was no cover available in the smooth corridor. It was utterly hopeless. The RAKER was fast and efficient. All Bertrand and Edward could do was watch helplessly as the RAKER finished off the entire team in less than a minute.

  – 120 –

  During the preceding twenty four hours the Moon’s dangerous proximity had started severe and damaging tides. The acute fluctuations in sea level, in some areas multiple times per day, was causing extreme flooding followed by extreme sea recession. Ocean liners had run aground in some ports. New York City streets close to the East River were flooded. Lower Manhattan was a disaster zone. The Thames had flooded the embankment and most of Southwark as enormous ocean surges overwhelmed the Barrier. Venice and New Orleans were awash. Most of lower Rio, Miami and dozens of other dense coastal populations were inundated with sea water.

  The water rushed in, then rushed out several hours later carrying anything not fixed to the ground out with it. The casualty count was staggering as people were caught off guard with nowhere to escape.

  Even the Mekhos faithful were starting to panic as they saw the Moon looming larger in the sky than ever before. Many people didn’t go in to work. They began to stock up on supplies because the word was out in the news, social media and every other information source that infrastructure collapse might be imminent. Some governments imposed curfews, believing riots and looting were about to erupt.

  Experts predicted grave consequences if the Moon’s orbit was not rapidly restored to normal. To everyone’s horror, earthquakes were occurring again and were expected to grow more severe. Governments that had once been quite friendly and conciliatory to the United States began demanding answers from the State Department and TranSilica and the UN. Their demands for information became more frantic and more threatening every hour.

  Bertrand was in the lab with Edward as two attendants removed Brian Nayar’s body. Gail Saunders had transferred herself from the communications center. She was attempting to communicate with Kratos.

  “Kratos, please initiate correction of Moon’s position to normal orbit.”

  No response.

  “Kratos,” Saunders said, “If the Moon is not restored to proper orbit, the Earth will undergo massive earthquakes and tsunamis. Please correct orbit. Acknowledge.”

  Kratos remained silent.

  Saunders checked her monitors for any sort of response but they were displaying only code.

  “I’m reduced to begging Kratos for a response here,” she said, her voice shaking with tension as she looked over her shoulder at Bertrand and Edward. “The monitoring software is apparently not doing anything and you can plainly hear for yourselves that Kratos is not responding. I tried command input at the keyboard. Same result. It’s doing something, but it’s not telling us what. I’m basically locked out. We do not have control.” Saunders turned back to the console and lowered her head slightly.

  “We do not have control,” she repeated.

  Saunders was barely under control herself, but Director Edward and Carl Bertrand were on the verge of shock. They were aware of the Moon’s dangerous course and had just witnessed the slaughter of their intrusion team.

  “Mekhos,” Edward said, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper, “is our only hope now.”

  Bertrand pulled Edward aside, away from Dr. Saunders.

  “Kratos wouldn’t be doing this if it thought it was in danger of being destroyed. The TranSilica building is state of the art and earthquake resistant. We have two cafeterias with plenty of food and water on the premises, not to mention emergency supplies. The security room has a weapons cache. We even have our own RAKER, coded and locked to our own secure frequency. I’ll send the employees away and keep only a few key engineers. Saunders and a couple of others. We can survive this.”

  “No Carl, it’s over. Civilization has only days left, according to your own predictions. We need to contact Mekhos.”

  “Mekhos is in no shape to help, and even if it was we’d be tried for treason afterward! Is that better than the alternative for us?”

  Edward thought for a moment. Almost anything would be preferable to spending the rest of his life incarcerated, or worse, lynched by a mob of survivors. There was no guarantee that Mekhos could be reactivated in time anyway.

  “Very well,” Edward replied faintly. “Send home the staff we don’t need. Then put the entire facility on lockdown.”

  – 121 –

  Doug could feel a small vibration in his wrist. He looked at his Raim. There was an orange, scrolling news headline that read Thousands dead worldwide as Moon’s proximity triggers mega tides.

  Doug’s eyes widened. He walked over to Stravinsky, who was still busy at the keyboard trying to communicate with Mekhos.

  “Look at this,” said Doug.

  Stravinsky tapped his own Raim, then slid his forefinger across the surface in a practiced pattern. He read the scrolling news for a moment, then looked up at Doug.

  “Good god,” said Stravinsky. “The Moon is too close to the planet. If Kratos fails and Mekhos remains disabled, we’re finished. I’ve got to contact Brian Nayar.” Stravinsky swiped his Raim to initiate a call.

  “Why would Kratos fail?” asked Bishop.

  “I do not know,” said Stravinsky, as he pressed the contact symbol on his Raim for Brian Nayar. “Kratos is powerful enough to accomplish the mission. Easily. Perhaps the virus from the Twin took hold.”

  There was a
pause as Stravinsky waited for Nayar to answer. He turned to the terminal and dialed the landline number to the TranSilica Lab telephone. The lab security guard picked up almost immediately and transferred him to Gail Saunders.

  “Gail?” Stravinsky said, “Nice to hear your voice, but where’s Nayar? What's the problem over there?”

  There was a pause.

  “Norman,” she said unsteadily, “Brian Nayar just dropped dead in the TranSilica control lab. I don’t know why.”

  “Nayar’s dead,” Stravinsky said, rolling the thought around in his mind. “There seems to be a bigger problem to deal with. Is Kratos re-orbiting the Moon correctly or not?”

  “No, it’s not,” she said, recovering slightly. “I can’t initiate a command or get any comms response by voice or by terminal. We’re dead in the water here.”

  At that moment the landline went dead as the full TranSilica lockdown got underway.

  Stravinsky hung up and turned to look at Doug and Bishop.

  “We’re finished,” he said in a conversational tone.

  “TranSilica has lost control of Kratos and there’s no re-orbital control. Too bad. I’d have liked one more chess match with Mekhos.”

  Doug was about to say something but there was a noise coming from outside the control room. It was getting louder.

  They could hear the rhythmic sound of extremely heavy footsteps approaching from the corridor. Bishop motioned for Stravinsky and Lockwood to hug the wall beside the open doorway while he positioned himself at the other side of the doorway, handgun at the ready. The rhythmic sound of footfalls was growing steadily louder.

  Then the RAKER walked through the door. It stopped and scanned the room. Doug and Norman were frozen, sure they were about to be killed where they stood. Bishop just watched calmly as the android ignored them, walked over to a section of wall and removed a panel exposing a wired power hub. It began removing some wires and connecting others. Its fingers were remarkably dexterous as it worked methodically on the hub. After less than a minute of work the RAKER pivoted away from the power hub, walked a few paces to the side of the room, turned to face them, and then powered down.