Epoch (The Templar Future Book 1)

by Lowry, Chris

  They were making headway in the circular pattern of death. the Mob seemed to dissolve off the Hulk and melt into the side streets.

  “Anyone got a visual on what’s holding up that tread?” she called on the radio.

  Unit One pulled alongside her.

  “I wasn’t able to get a fix, but-” he squawked into the radio as a missile flared up from a dark alley and plowed into his fin. The hover car spun out of control and into the street, exploding on impact.

  Nova jerked her car around, circling a building and blasting the alley with bolts.

  “They’re clear,” Bram called from the opposite seat. Three charred and disoriented figures stumbled out of the fire.

  “They had their Suits,” she sighed.

  “Where’s Baker?” the pilot yelled.

  The Mob boiled around the fire and rushed the three survivors.

  “They’re on you. Move it!” She called into the com link.

  They broke into a shuffling run, moving for the Autohulk.

  Nova whipped the hover car around and dove at the Mob.

  A misled winged up at her, but the computer projected a trajectory and she flipped the car, watching the rocket trail past her window and arc into the sky.

  “What the Hell are they doing?”

  They strafed the crowd, followed closely by Two.

  “We can’t open the hatch!” the Autohulk driver’s panicked voice crackled on the radio. “It’s jammed.”

  “Use another portal!” she ordered.

  The Mob edged closer to the three Suits outside the Hulk.

  They had their backs to the hull, pistols drawn and firing into the approaching horde.

  “We’ve tried,” the driver responded. “They’re all jammed.”

  “Ju, you have to use your boots. Retro rocket up, out of the way.”

  His voice was tired and full of pain.

  “We took a hard landing, sir. None of us work.”

  “The Suits are damaged?”

  “We feel the heat,” he said, and sounded wet, like a broken rib. “We’re all hurt and off line.”

  “Hang on,” she told them. “Two, give me all the cover you got.”

  She turned to the pilot.

  “Take over. Bring us in over them and hold it tight and steady. Bram, pop the canopy.”

  Bram rummaged under the seat for rope.

  “We only got two,” he told her grimly.

  :It’ll have to do,” she raised her rifle to shoulder. “I’m guessing you want me to pot shot.”

  He smiled at her.

  “Who else could I trust?”

  The pilot brought them in quick, squeezing off a few bolts to beat the Mob back. Bram popped the cockpit and dropped the robes. Nova leaned over the seat and fired into the Mob below.

  “Tie it on,” Bram screamed into his com unit.

  Ju took one of the Troopers pistols, acting as guard while the other two tied in. Nova’s eyes blurred at the selfless act.

  Bram hauled one up, the other climbed hand over hand. They worked fast, but the Mob was faster.

  They closed in on Ju from three sides. He fired over and over again until his charges were out, then threw the empty guns at the approaching menace. Nova shot until her power was out, and grabbed another rifle.

  “Get him up here!”

  Two made a second pass at the rear, but it didn’t affect the front. The Mob pressed closer. Bram dropped his pistol to the man below. Ju scooped it up and shot the closest.

  Bram shoved the other Troopers in the back seat and threw the rope over the side. It fell beside Ju. He made a grab for it.

  One of the Mob leaped from the hull of the Autohulk and scampered up the dangling rope. Bram waited for him to reach the car, hit him full in the face, feeling bone crack underneath. The man flew down and away, taking two others when he landed.

  “He’s not going to make it,” the pilot screamed.

  The Mob pressed closer. His third pistol powered down and Ju was out of time. They grabbed him forcing him down.

  Bram tied the other rope around his waist and jumped over the side. He shot a rifle as he fell, clearing a patch directly under him. Nova leaned over the side and matched him shot for shot. He landed on top of the Mob, on top of Ju.

  Quick blows and rifle butts knocked them off and Ju grabbed Bram by the waist. He hit his retro rockets and they shot up to the hover car. The Mob howled in mindless rage.

  A missile shot out of an alley, streaking between the cockpit and canopy, knocking Nova flat in the afterblast.

  Two flew in, lighting up the street with sonic charges. The miniature sonic bombs blasted shock waves into the Mob, knocking them off the Hulk, sending them to the ground.

  Bram shoved Ju over the side of the car, and hauled himself in. He shook his head. Even the thick helmets couldn’t absorb all the shock of a sonic boom. His ears would ring for days.

  “Call in reserves,” he gasped at the pilot.

  “Done, sir.”

  Bram looked at the towering HQ. He could see flashes of light as hover cars took off to fly cover. The battle was over though, as far as he could tell. The Mob would beat against the hull all night. At daylight tomorrow, the Troops would bring another Autohulk to transfer everyone into for the ride back. It would be a rough sleep for the men and women trapped inside, but they were Troopers. They were tough.

  He examined Ju and the other two Troopers. Both were in shock, and Ju looked bad. The Mob had worked him over hard, even with the protection of the Suit. The medical Computer would spend a long time with him.

  Bram turned to Nova, but she knocked his hand off her shoulder, brooding.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “I lost one of my men,” she pouted.

  Bram lowered his head for Baker.

  “It’s not easy,” he rubbed the back of his head.

  “Take us home,” he ordered the pilot.

  “We can’t go yet,” she said, fishing for an argument.

  The pilot looked from Bram to the Commander and back again.

  “Take us home. We have injured comrades. If you want to bring a car back and camp out up here, you can.”

  She sighed.

  “Take us home,” she looked over her shoulder at Bram. “Tell me they’ll be safe.”

  “They’re in an Autohulk. They’re safer than we’ll be at HQ.”

  “What were they doing?” They are something different tonight.”

  Bram shook his head.

  “Same old Mob. Just destroying.”

  “We’re different,” the pilot added.

  The hover cars arrived and painted the streets below in fire.

  Nova hunkered in her seat for the ride back to HQ. She was worried about her men, but something the pilot said nagged at the back of her mind, tugging at her even as she fell into a fitful sleep.

  “We’re different,” he said.

  And that’s what Robe said about the Templar.

  The car flew through the night sky, Robe handling the controls. It was full to capacity, and everyone was glad the Doctor preferred an older model car with a wider body and bigger seats. The interior allowed Bruce, Pip and Darwin to squeeze into the back seat. The Templar rode shotgun, his young companion’s plasma rifle held across his knee.

  “Keep an eye out,” Robe warned him as they piled in the car at twilight. “Sometimes the Mob will knock fliers out of the sky.”

  “With what?”

  “Surface retro’s,” Pip whispered as she climbed past him.

  “Rockets? We were searching for a cache of rockets that were supposed to be hidden in some mountain.”

  “Never found them?” Darwin asked.

  “It was an ongoing search.”

  Darwin nodded, familiar with the concept.

  The ride so far was uneventful. Robe handled the craft with ease and experience.

  “Have you decided where we are going?”

  “Take us to the coast. We will find a boat there
.”

  Robe laughed.

  “If you tell me what island you want to go to, I can fly us there.”

  Pip groaned from the backseat and rearranged her shoulders.

  “I don’t want to go-” Bruce started for the fifth time. Pip elbowed him in the ribs, cutting him off.

  “You’re a part of the team now Brucy, better get used to it.”

  The Templar unfolded the paper map that Darwin had printed out in his lab. He pointed to a small cluster of islands a few miles from the coast.

  “We can make it there easy,” said Robe. “But isn’t it a little close to the City?”

  “They won’t think to look for us there, will they? That is what you told me.”

  Robe nodded.

  “I don’t think they will. We never searched for a fugitive there before.”

  “You have had many fugitives?”

  Robe tilted his head in concentration.

  “None that I can remember. Pip?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “There none since I’ve been involved either,” added the Doctor.

  “Then we do not know what they will do,” finished the Templar. “These are close. We can go further if we need.”

  Robe keyed in the coordinates and leaned back, staring across the horizon.

  “We should be there in a few hours.”

  There were few cars in the early morning hours. Windows in the upper floors of the buildings winked on as they passed, people rising from the night to go about whatever business they had.

  The Templar spied a glow several blocks to their north.

  “What is that?” he pointed.

  Robe studied it, but Pip spoke.

  “Looks like the Mob caught an Autohulk out after dark.”

  “Should we help?” the Templar asked.

  “That’s what the Hulks are made for,” said Robe. “They could outlive the Mob holed up in that thing.”

  The Templar turned in his seat, pinning Darwin with his icy gaze.

  “Tell me about the Mob.”

  Darwin looked up from his laptop, a puzzled expression on his face.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Tell me how it came into existence. What is it? How does it function?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But you are supposed to know.”

  “Not my area. Everyone we sent for information never came back. Bruce, did you study them?”

  “No sir,” Bruce sulked.

  “Sorry, we can’t tell you what we don’t know. Maybe I should tell you about the First Computer War instead. I know that.”

  “I know about the Mob,” Pip whispered.

  Robe turned around to watch her.

  “Tell me then,” ordered the Templar.

  “I did a query on them when I first enlisted. My parents were caught in a breach, before the Computer made plas-steel.”

  “What is a breach?”

  “They broke through the bottom floors of buildings, wiped out everyone. We used to use metal bars to hold them out, but they broke sometimes. It’s why the Suits were made, to fight them.”

  “You don’t fight them during the day.”

  “I know, they disappear. The Troops searched for awhile. But we couldn’t find anything. At night, they would show up out of nowhere, by the thousands. After plas-steel, it was just easier to follow curfew and stay inside. The Computer said it was for the best.”

  “If you couldn’t find anything, how could you know about them?”

  She picked at her hands, fidgeting.

  “They killed my parents. So I accessed some files tucked away on a subdirectory. I found them. They didn’t tell me much. After each war, people just came to the City, refugees I guess. The people living in here were used to a certain way of life, and the immigrants just weren’t a part of that. But instead of killing them off or sending them on their way, they ignored them. No food, no shelter, no computers, nothing. Soon the Mobs were roaming the streets, rioting and stuff. The peace officers were outnumbered. And Conrad founded the Troops to protect the citizens of the City. He designed the Suits to protect us. The Troops cleared off the streets, the Mob vanished. Everyone thought they went away, but the hid and got stronger, and more mindless and violent. They started showing up at night, big groups of them attacking anyone out. Troops would respond, but we lost a lot of men in those days. It just got easy to let them have the night. The Computer couldn’t help. It said the Mob was necessary, but it wouldn’t say why. So it proposed the curfew. I grew up with it, so it’s no big deal to me. My folks used to complain about it. When they were younger, they said they would go on moonlit walks. I’ve always wanted to do that.”

  “Now you get your chance,” Robe smiled at her.

  She wiped tears from the corners of her eyes.

  “Why not exterminate them?” the Templar asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe they tried. Nothing seems to work on them. You’ve seen it yourself. There are so many of them when you fight, they just keep coming,” she shuddered. “I can imagine how my parents died. My Dad was a fighter, you know, one of those guys who wouldn’t quit. My Mom said I got that from him. I see him killing with his bare hands, protecting my Mom and others until the last instant, when there’s just too many of them and they overwhelm him-”

  She stopped.

  Darwin patted her on the shoulder.

  “It’s okay, girl.”

  She shrugged his hand off.

  “I’m a first class Trooper. I don’t need babying. I’m one of the best. Ask Robe, I was being groomed for Second to his Commander.”

  “Oh man,” screamed Bruce. “You were in line for Commander? That’s just great. They’re going to kill us on sight for sure.”

  “Quiet Bruce,” said Darwin.

  “Oh no, oh no, we got the inner core of Intelligence for the Troops here. They won’t let this one go.”

  Robe leaned across the seat bringing his face close to Bruce.

  “I made a choice, brother. Now you shut up and live with it or I throw you out of the window.”

  Bruce gulped twice and tried to sink into his seat.

  The Templar smiled and clapped Robe on the back.

  “You may learn yet,” he turned to Pip. “You became a Trooper to avenge your family.”

  She shrugged her shoulders, looked at her feet.

  “I guess so.”

  “Have you worked out your anger against the Mob?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “In my world, after a raid or battle, farmer’s sons would show up to join us or fight us for revenge. We made a sport of killing them. Surface anger has no place in a fight. It clouds your mind. You must push it deep, let it burn in your gut. It will give you strength. I will teach you how.”

  “Don’t bother,” she smirked. “I got it all ready.”

  “Good,” he answered quickly. “I’ll hone it.”

  He looked out of the canopy at the dark ground below them.”

  “What happened to the lights?”

  Robe checked his instruments.

  “We’re over water.”

  The Templar absorbed this new information and settled back into his seat.

  “Can you keep us airborne until first light?”

  “Sure, we have enough fuel. Why?”

  The Templar yawned and slid the rifle into the floorboard.

  “Don’t question your leader,” he said in a low voice and closed his eyes.

  Nova Laud lay in bed, tossing and turning. Several times she asked the Computer to lower the temperature, hoping the cool air would force her to curl up and sleep. She just got cold and sleep eluded her. Her mind wouldn’t stop racing. Over and over she could see the Mob closing in on Ju and the others, and she was helpless to save them. From out of nowhere, the Templar would slide through the flames on the Hulk and beat back the advancing throng. She would try to replay it in her mind, telling herself it was Bram who was the hero this night, Bra
m who swung through the jaws of death to rescue the young Trooper. But every detailed replay brought an image of the Templar fresh to her mind. She could see his strong face, frozen in a mocking grin, the cold dark eyes staring through her, no hint of fear.

  She finally got up and moved to the window. When ever she felt troubled or indecisive, she liked to stare out of the window. From this high up, the landscape looked peaceful enough, hiding the dangers that lurked in the shadowy darkness.

  Her view was toward the ocean several miles across the city. She often sat in a chair to watch the sun settle into the water and wondered what happened on the other side of the world. The Computer kept a link with other Computers across the globe, but people rarely contacted each other. History prevented it, she supposed, trust was hard to establish. There were no overt acts of hostility, each Computer assessing the other for strengths and weaknesses. Still, she wondered what would happen if some other country decided to take her City.

  “I’d give them the Mob,” she said out loud, smiling.

  She went to the wall dispenser for a small cup of herbal tea, hoping the mild depressant she keyed in the equation would do the trick. Just enough to relax her brain, but hopefully not too much to make her oversleep. Morning was a few short hours away and she had to make an effort to find the prisoner and Robe. The Computer demanded that they be brought back in, and it was her duty to follow through.

  Even if she had run out of options. Even if the databanks offered no solutions on their whereabouts, and her own instinct was refusing to help.

  She sat in a chair and sipped her tea, hoping that sleep would clear her mind and offer new solutions. The depressant kicked in, and she forced herself to the bed.

  “I’m going to sleep in,” she told herself, knowing she couldn’t, but still enjoying the thought. She deserved to sleep in.

  “I wonder what he’s doing?” she mumbled, slipping into that nether state between reality and dreams, picturing the Templar beside her.

  She missed the urgent bell on her e-mail, too lost in sleep to notice.

  The Templar woke quickly as the pitch in the car’s engine changed.

  “What is it?” he asked, bringing the rifle off the floor in a smooth fluid motion.