Defenders

by Will McIntosh

  “You’re probably right.” He wanted to ask if she was married, or seeing someone. He knew that she and her second husband (whose name Oliver had forgotten—all he remembered was, it wasn’t Paul) had divorced six or seven years earlier. Fifteen years ago, he would have been stupid enough to ask that sort of question. Not now, though.

  He held out his hand, and Vanessa took it. “It was good seeing you, Vanessa. I’ll get Five to leave you alone. I promise”

  “Thank you. It was good to see you, too.”

  She turned. Oliver closed the door and went to the window to watch her climb the steps. For a moment the terrible sadness returned, the hollowing loneliness that had tormented him after their divorce. He turned his thoughts to the work ahead, and the pain receded.

  76

  Lila Easterlin

  October 24, 2047. Washington, D.C.

  Kai pointed into the woods. “Look at that.”

  Lila spun, scanned the terrain. She didn’t see anything through the lattice of bare branches, nothing moving on the floor of fallen brown and orange leaves.

  “Higher.”

  She followed his pointing finger up into the trees, and spotted it: a huge woodpecker perched on a dead tree, poking at it with her long beak.

  “A pileated woodpecker,” Kai said. “They’re rare.”

  She was about to ask where Kai the city boy had learned about woodpeckers when she spotted Oliver heading toward them, head down, hands in his pockets. Lila tried to read his face for a hint of what he might have found out, but Oliver always looked worried.

  “Not good news,” he said as he reached them. “Defenders are definitely clearing out of the cities Five gave us, and not out of others. I think the Luyten are telling the truth.”

  He looked at Lila. She knew what he was going to say, and she didn’t want to hear it.

  “I think we have to accept their offer.”

  Lila cursed, turned away.

  “I wish I was more confident we can trust them. I’m not at all confident about that, but, honestly? I think it’s our only chance.”

  She didn’t want to agree to this. She would be the one who would actually hand the Luyten the power to wipe them out; it would all be on her shoulders.

  “What other choice do we have, Lila?” Oliver asked. “Do nothing, while the defenders gas two billion people, quite possibly including your family?” Lila looked up at him. “They wouldn’t kill you, because you’re too valuable, but I could picture them whisking you off to Easter Island just before they gas the entire D.C. area.”

  “It would take at least three months to get enough altered defenders trained and in place. What if the defenders carry out their plan before then?”

  That’s why they’ve pressured you to ramp up production. They want to reinforce their numbers before they act. They want overwhelming force before they reveal their intentions, in case you fight back.

  “Hello, Five,” Oliver said. “Are you in the immediate vicinity.”

  I’ll be there in a minute.

  “Why do you risk coming here if you can communicate with us from eight miles away?” Lila asked.

  I think it’s important that we meet face-to-face.

  “You don’t have a face,” Lila said.

  “If we do this, we’ll need able military commanders and strategists ready to go, all over the world,” Oliver said, ignoring her crack. “How are we going to recruit them, now that Earth2 is no longer an option?”

  It hurt Lila to hear him say it aloud. Almost as soon as she’d learned Dominique was still alive, Lila was back to not knowing if she was or not.

  We’ll contact them directly, as soon as the altered defenders are in place.

  They could do that, couldn’t they? Every time Lila thought she grasped the magnitude of the Luyten’s advantage, another facet of it surfaced. If they were allied with the Luyten, humans would suddenly have an effective means of communication with no chance of defender interception.

  “What about weapons?” Kai asked. “The defenders have total control of weapons.”

  Five pushed out of the brambles behind them.

  Getting access to weapons will be the focus of our initial attacks. We’ll use improvised explosive devices and suicide attacks. In the United States and Russia, there are large caches of outdated weapons buried in various unguarded locations. We’ll liberate those as well.

  “You have all the answers, don’t you?” Lila said. Then she thought about what Five had just said. “Hang on, your initial attacks? Are you picturing a guerrilla war, like you fought against us?”

  Of course. When you’re facing a larger, better-armed force, it’s the most effective—

  Five stopped there, Lila assumed, because it was reading her thoughts. She laughed out loud, relishing a rare moment when a Luyten looked foolish. “You see it now, don’t you? That’s not going to fly against defenders.”

  “What? Why?” Oliver asked.

  This is why we need to work together.

  “What is?” Oliver asked.

  Lila turned to face Oliver. “Guerrilla wars work because the larger force can’t catch the enemy. They attack, then duck back into the woods, or melt back into the population.”

  “So?”

  Lila folded her arms. She was going to have to spell it out for him, wasn’t she? “The defenders don’t care who they kill. As soon as you start attacking, they’ll turn and lay waste to the population, just like they’re planning to do anyway.” Oliver was nodding now, and so was Kai. “They’re not going to go chasing after each individual attacker; they’re going to point their tanks at crowds and open fire.”

  Oliver looked toward Five, but he’d gone silent. Lila kicked at a fallen branch, feeling a little smug, waiting for someone to pick up the pieces, if they could.

  It was Five who broke the silence. The initial attacks will be Luyten only. They’ll be small. The defenders will think we’re attempting the coup on our own, and they’ll turn their guns on us. Soon after—very soon after would be our preference—humans will rise up, and we fight a war on a million fronts, all at once.

  “How exactly are we going to get a billion people to rise up, more or less all at once?”

  When the time comes we’ll push everyone able to fight. We can be very persuasive.

  “You’re going to persuade a billion people?” Oliver looked dubious. “I’m not sure anyone’s going to respond to Luyten shouting orders at everyone at once.”

  Oh, they won’t be generic orders. We’ll speak to each person individually, by name. If we have to we’ll shame them into fighting, or scare them.

  “A billion people? Have you done the math on that? It’ll take forever,” Kai said. “We’ll have to target certain block leaders, rely on them to spread the word.”

  Oliver, do you remember the MRIs and CT scans you subjected me to while I was your prisoner? Remember the curious repetitive nature of my brain structures?

  “Sure.”

  If a species evolved with the ability to exchange thoughts with many others at once, wouldn’t it make sense that this species also develop separate, parallel processing centers of conscious thought?

  Oliver looked stunned. “You can think—and communicate telepathically—on multiple tracks simultaneously?”

  The implications of that boggled Lila’s mind. Dozens, maybe hundreds, of separate lines of thought all going on at the same time in one head? The entire species thinking like that, and communicating telepathically. All of those lines of thought connected in a vast web. They were even more alien than she’d imagined.

  Do we have a deal? Five was looking at her.

  Lila grunted. “I imagine you knew we had a deal before I was aware I’d made up my mind. That’s not to say I don’t have deep reservations about this.”

  Humans draw a hard line between thinking something and saying it aloud. I’m asking you to say it aloud.

  Lila considered Five. How had they arrived here, at this insane mom
ent? She wanted to tell this creature to go to hell. But that wasn’t an option; even she understood that now.

  “Yes. We have a deal.”

  77

  Dominique Wiewall

  October 24, 2047. Southeastern Alaska.

  A Harrier swooped by, just above the tree line. Forrest, who was driving their BvS10, jerked the wheel, taking them off the road and pulling to a stop.

  They listened to the thump of the Harrier’s propellers. Dominique watched out the window, praying it didn’t turn back.

  “Do you think it saw us?” Forrest asked.

  “I don’t know. It was close. It could have.”

  “If it did, they wouldn’t necessarily engage us,” Peter Smythe said from the back, crowded in with a dozen others. “They might call in reinforcements first.”

  What was there to do, though? Ditch the vehicles and head off into the woods with whatever they could carry? In the side-view mirror Dominique saw the door open in the next vehicle back. The president stepped out, his eyes turned toward the sky. Dominique and Forrest got out as well.

  “Do we just hope they didn’t see us?” Wood asked.

  No one answered.

  “What are the odds? Sheena?” He turned. “Did they see us? Your professional opinion.”

  Sheena looked into the treetops. “It’s a close thing, but I’m going to say no. The foliage is too thick, and we’re on something that’s barely a road; they wouldn’t expect to find us here.”

  Wood nodded, satisfied. “Let’s take a break since we’ve already stopped.” He raised his voice. “Twenty minutes, everyone.”

  It was fascinating to Dominique to watch Anthony Wood lead. Not once had she heard anyone question why Wood should be in charge, given that the United States no longer existed, and his brother, not him, had been the sitting president when it fell. No one questioned him because everyone wanted him to be in charge. He was that good at it.

  “I’m going to take a walk, stretch my legs a little. Want to come?” Forrest asked.

  “Sounds good.” Dominique barely remembered what it felt like to take a walk, let alone a run. She’d run almost every day of her life until she found herself at CFS Alert, where there was nowhere to run but outside, where the snow was always three feet deep.

  They headed off down the logging trail. Forrest checked his watch. “We’ll go nine minutes, then turn around.”

  There was nothing to see except trees and brush, the same view they’d had for days, but it was nice to pass it slowly, to hear the wind and the occasional bird. “How far do you think we are from the nearest town?” Dominique asked.

  “Probably less than fifty miles. We’re getting into more densely populated territory.” Forrest took her hand, and, glancing back, Dominique realized he’d waited until they were out of sight of the caravan before doing so. The few people who had coupled up over the past eighteen months were all discreet about it, probably because they were aware of how many of the others were lonely, and recently widowed. Some didn’t know whether they were widowed, whether their children were dead or alive. She was so grateful she didn’t have children.

  “I’m so tired.” It came out before she could stop it.

  “Me, too.”

  “I’m not sure I understand the plan. We’re just going to slip into some town and hope the defenders don’t notice us?”

  Forrest glanced at his watch. “I’m not sure there is a plan. Maybe a few of us slip into one town, a few into another.”

  “I doubt the president would split us up like that. It would mean we were giving up the resistance.”

  “No, you’re right.”

  Forrest paused, frowning. Dominique was going to ask him what was the matter, then she heard it, too: an aircraft engine, getting louder. They bolted into the woods. Dominique ran, arms up to keep branches from whipping her face, following Forrest’s back. The engine grew louder. She heard another, farther away.

  Forrest stopped abruptly, ducked behind a tree. Dominique squatted behind him, panting, a plume of vapor jetting from her open mouth.

  A Harrier roared past, flying low, following the logging trail. Just before it flew out of sight, a defender in full battle gear appeared in the rear doorway and leaped out. A small chute deployed as it dropped.

  “Oh, no.” Dominique leaped up.

  Forrest caught the back of her jacket and tugged her back down. “We’re unarmed. We’re no help to anyone.”

  Gunfire erupted in the distance. Panicked shouts. Dominique squeezed her eyes shut as screams reached her, the sounds of people dying, of her friends dying.

  “We have to get out of here,” Forrest said.

  “There might be survivors. Wounded. We have to see.”

  “Right now we have to run.” Forrest took her hand, led her deeper into the woods. They ran down a slope, and when they came to a stream Forrest surged right through; Dominique followed, her feet numb as soon as they hit the water.

  Far behind them, she heard the whump of an explosion, followed closely by two more. They were taking out the vehicles, so anyone they missed would be left to freeze, with no shelter, no supplies.

  They had nothing, Dominique realized. No blankets, no food, no weapons. She slowed, called out, “Wait.” Forrest stopped. As he turned she could see from his expression that there was no need to point out the seriousness of their situation.

  The sharp crack of a branch sent a fresh jolt of fear through her. She and Forrest dropped to the ground and crawled on their bellies until they were hidden by a copse of trees. Slowly, carefully, Dominique raised her head to look in the direction of the sounds.

  Two defenders topped the rise a hundred yards away, both clutching rifles. She looked at Forrest, passed a silent question: Should they run, or stay down and hope the defenders missed them? Neither seemed a good idea.

  A voice boomed in her head. Dominique nearly cried out in surprise. Run. Two hundred yards, directly away from them.

  She exchanged another look with Forrest, who nodded. What did they have to lose? They sprang up as one, sprinted away. A clump of trees was between them and the defenders, masking their flight. They’d covered a hundred yards before Dominique heard a shout of discovery from the defenders. Ahead through the trees, she could see bright shifting colors—four Luyten, heading toward them.

  We’ll carry you: Dominique, run to me, orange; Forrest, run to violet.

  She didn’t want to put her life in the hands of a Luyten, but she saw no choice. As she approached the orange Luyten, it swept her up with its powerful cilia, like ropes roughly lashed around her legs and waist, pressed her to its stony body, and ran like hell.

  Dominique’s head bounced and jostled; the forest passed in a sideways blur as the defenders’ shouts grew louder. A blast rocked the ground a dozen yards short of them, just as they reached a steep hill—a cliff, really. The Luyten kept going; Dominique wanted to shout for it to stop but couldn’t muster the breath. The Luyten half climbed, half fell down the steep ravine, using the cilia on all of its free limbs to clutch and scrape at the rocks and dirt as they plunged hundreds of feet.

  It hit the ground upright and galloped across a shallow river, then broke into trees on the opposite bank. Forrest was nowhere in sight; Dominique wondered if they’d fled straight into an even worse fate. If the Luyten had wanted her dead, all they would have had to do was wait. But if they didn’t want her dead, what did they want with her?

  What we want right now is to keep you safe, the Luyten said. Then we want to get you and Forrest to Washington, D.C.

  Dominique was stunned. “Why would you want to do that?”

  Because we’ve agreed to an alliance with your people, and you have expertise that can help us.

  Dominique was positive she’d misunderstood, or more likely the Luyten had misspoken. An alliance? The idea was simultaneously chilling and absurd.

  Yet as the Luyten slowed, and uncovered the camouflaged entrance to a tunnel in the ground, Dominique had
to admit the idea also made an odd sort of sense.

  78

  Lila Easterlin

  October 25, 2047. Washington, D.C.

  Lila’s hands were shaking as she called up the defenders’ specifications—the genetic recipe Dominique Wiewall had developed to create the defenders. To introduce an entire neurotransmitter system into the existing framework, which had been meticulously designed to create an intelligent organism that functioned without that neurotransmitter, was a staggering proposition. Even with a trained staff assisting her, it would have been a challenge. But alone? It was going to take a long time. How long, she couldn’t guess, because she wasn’t sure how she was going to do it. It would be far easier if she could redesign the defenders from scratch, if she weren’t also trying to hide the fact that she was doing this. Then she could simply back up and start over with the specifications for a human brain, and design something close to a defender. But these defenders had to look exactly like the existing ones, and to act like them.

  As she typed a few tentative variations, she watched the genetic code transform before her eyes. Without the Mizrahi protocol, which translated genetically expressible characteristics into genetic code, it would take years to design these changes. It was amazing, really, that she hadn’t had to think in terms of adenine, cytosine, guanine, and thymine since graduate school. All of that was automated.

  Lila jumped as a voice blared in her head.

  Minka is coming to see you about an employee. She’ll be at your door in less than two minutes.

  Lila masked the program she was working on, called up a productivity report. She had no idea the Luyten was eavesdropping, but it made sense—they had as much riding on this as she.

  After Minka left, Lila waited, in case she thought of something else and returned.

  All clear, the Luyten said before she could resume work on her own.

  When darkness came Lila texted both Kai and Erik to tell them she wouldn’t be home until late. She went on working, knocking back coffee, driven by anxiety, blocked not only by a dawning understanding of how difficult, if not impossible, this was, but by doubts about whether she should be doing it at all.