Cybershot_An Empathic Detective Novel

by Jaxon Reed

  Bryce’s car sped across the city at breakneck speed, the AI traffic control diverting other vehicles from his path since he was on an emergency call.

  Absently he listened to the chatter on the police channel as Dispatch ordered SWAT units to the compound along with observation drones and uniformed officers.

  Parker looked across the front seat at him and said, “You think we’ll make it?”

  He nodded and said, “I think we’ll get there before Friedman. Not sure we can hold the boy, though.”

  “I wish Melody had a more detailed dream last night. I’d like to know what’s going to happen.”

  Bryce shrugged. “Sometimes it’s better not to know. Life is more interesting that way.”

  Parker gave him a skeptical glance. She said, “Did she indicate anything else? She just saw a tankbot shooting at a building?”

  “Yup. That’s all she got.”

  “And from that, you think Friedman, a man who supposedly hasn’t aged since the crucifixion of Christ, is going to attack the facility?”

  He glanced across at her, raising an eyebrow at the skeptical tone that crept into her voice.

  He said, “Sometimes, you’ve got to go with your gut. I’ve found my guesses to be remarkably accurate in the years since my mother died.”

  The edge of the city spread out below their vehicle as buildings grew scarcer. Moments later the car slowed and began descending toward the compound’s parking lot. They noticed a small contingent of soldiers out front, waiting for them.

  When the car landed, the doors popped open and the two detectives crawled out. Before they reached the soldiers, two SWAT vans landed in the parking lot. Their rear doors swung down and twenty black-clad police streamed out. The two sergeants headed toward the front door along with the detectives, and everybody converged at about the same time. Bryce recognized Sergeant Diaz. The other was a woman he did not know.

  A hologram of Major Hamilton stepped out from the soldiers and nodded at the detectives and police sergeants in turn.

  He looked at Bryce and said, “I just received a message from the Pentagon that we are to include you in emergency defensive measures for this facility. Any idea what’s going on, Detective?”

  Bryce said, “We have a credible tip that this building is going to come under attack and someone is going to try and kill Jacques Renard. We’re expecting a mechanized assault of some sort, probably from a tankbot.”

  Everyone’s eyes shifted to the building’s security bot clanking along the inside of the fence, one metallic step at a time.

  Hamilton twitched his lips in thought, but otherwise gave no reaction. Bryce realized he and the other soldiers were all dosed up on Hexenhammer.

  Hamilton said, “I see. Well, if that’s the case we could certainly use the additional firepower. Have your people maintain a perimeter outside the facility. I would prefer no police presence inside the building.”

  He placed ever so slight emphasis on the word “prefer,” enough to let all present know that he really meant something stronger.

  Bryce nodded and said, “Fair enough. The action will start out here anyway. If I may make a suggestion, I would keep your people inside on full alert in case of a breach in the fence.”

  “What exactly do you think is coming our way, Detective? The Army is the only entity with tankbots.”

  “I’m not sure yet. But I don’t think we’re going to like it when it gets here.”

  Bryce turned to the two police sergeants and said, “We’ll need a perimeter. Expect brute force. They’ll most likely try and take out that security bot first, so keep an eye on it.”

  As the officers hurried back to their teams, a call came through on Bryce’s neural link.

  Captain Kim said, “Detective, we’ve got Drones 18 and 31 moving into position now. I’m deploying uniforms to block off nearby streets from pedestrians and ground traffic. We’re setting up a no-fly zone for the area, too. This is a lot of trouble. I hope you’re right about this.”

  “It’ll happen, Captain. Don’t worry about that. I just hope we’ve got enough firepower to hold it off.”

  Kim said, “Just a minute, I’ve got another call coming in.”

  A moment later, she came back on the line and said, “You may be onto something after all, Detective. The Army National Guard reports four tankbots suddenly left a nearby armory on their own accord. They are not under control of the Army. The Pentagon is requesting local assistance. They are being reported as stolen. That’s not supposed to happen. Bots don’t suddenly go off on their own like that. Looks like you were right, because they’re headed your way.”

  “How far are they from our position?”

  “Less than half a mile. I’ll get you and others onsite a visual.”

  He rushed back to the front door where Major Hamilton’s hologram stood talking with a lone soldier. Evidently the other military personnel were already back inside.

  “Four National Guard tankbots are headed this way, Major. They’ve gone rogue and are under outside control.”

  Hamilton’s eyebrows furrowed slightly in thought. He said, “How is that possible? Our systems are impenetrable. Nobody can simply take over a bot and start directing it around. That’s a Pentagon system.”

  “I’m not so sure your systems are as good as y’all think they are. And it seems somebody had access to your records database and possibly other files for quite some time now. The point is, I don’t know if our SWAT teams have enough firepower to put down four tankbots. I take that back. I know we don’t.”

  They both turned at the sound of gunshots outside the fence. Down the street, a squad car blocking traffic had its lights on. Two officers crouching behind it emptied their sidearms at four large bots heading toward them.

  The lead bot opened fire with its 30 mm cannon. The squad car exploded, sending the officers flying through the air. The tankbot crossed over the smoldering wreckage, crushing the car in heavy metallic crunches. Behind it, the other three followed in its steps.

  12

  “Backup! We need immediate backup! All units . . .”

  “. . . repeat: four Army tankbots are headed to a building located at . . .”

  “Hold your fire! Hold your fire! We don’t have anything that can reach out that far and do any damage. Shucks, we don’t have anything that can put a dent in those things at any range . . .”

  Bryce tuned out all the radio traffic streaming through his neural link and focused on the bots headed toward the front gate.

  They stood 30 feet high and gleamed in the sun with a silvery metallic sheen. Each bot’s top consisted of a saucer-shaped turret complete with a rapid-fire cannon capped by a virtually indestructible sensor array serving as electronic eyes. The cannons could pivot quickly in any direction, the sensors providing accuracy to the firepower.

  The bottom half sported an opposing saucer shape attached to two large and articulated legs. The squat, heavy limbs allowed the bots to cover uneven ground quickly, and to climb over barriers that thwarted wheeled vehicles. Everything had been engineered for exceptional balance, making the machines very difficult to knock over. Consequently, the bots rarely fell down. Even if they did, Bryce knew, they could easily regain their footing.

  Like the others around him, he had seen footage of tankbots in action on the news. They were outstanding assets in urban warfare, or out in the desert, or anywhere involving diverse terrain. Everyone present knew the machines’ capabilities. They were the perfect autonomous robotic ground soldiers, featuring all the armor and weaponry of an old-fashioned treaded tank combined with the nimbleness and grace of a gigantic Olympic athlete.

  Bryce focused on his neural link again and said, “Captain, we’re not going to be able to stop these things. Biggest gun we have is a .50 caliber rifle. That’s not going to do it. The Army doesn’t have much better, inside the building.”

  The security bot guarding the premises noticed the threat. Built on a similar chassis, it sto
pped patrolling and hunkered down, bending its knees to stabilize its cannon.

  Its electronic voice shouted, “Halt!”

  The four Army bots quickly fanned out, each aiming their 30 mm cannons at the security bot behind the fence. The security bot turned from tank to tank, trying to assess the multiple threats. All four fired simultaneously, a rapid stream of foot-long projectiles spraying out, blowing up the fence in the process.

  BUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDA!

  The top half of the security bot blew off the bottom half. Its legs gave out and it slowly tipped over, several tons of steel clattering on the pavement.

  “Fire!”

  SWAT officers on the roof and around the parking lot opened up with their rifles, sending a hail of lead and electronic bolts toward the Army bots. Everything ricocheted off their titanium alloy shells.

  Plink! Plink! Plink!

  One of the SWAT officers ran out from behind a parked car and tossed a grenade under the lead bot as it crossed the fence line.

  KABLOOM!

  Fire and smoke from the explosion clouded everyone’s view for a second.

  When the smoke drifted away, the bot turned its cannon on the officer. One shot from the giant gun pierced his body armor, blowing him backwards off his feet and sending scattered body parts across the parking lot.

  Sergeant Diaz yelled over the comlink, “Do not engage! We don’t have the firepower!”

  The other officers in the parking lot either fell back or hunched behind whatever cover they could find.

  The bot in the rear came into the parking lot last. It hunched down to steady its aim. Its turret tilted up, pointing at the wall above the door.

  Bryce said, “Run!”

  He and Parker scrambled out of the way as the bot opened fire on the wall, lobbing shell after shell into the side of the building.

  BUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDA!

  Bricks and dust rained down in front of the door. Bryce turned toward his virtual screen patched through to Dispatch. One of the drones overhead zoomed its camera on the truck-sized hole in the building as the dust cleared away.

  He saw a female nurse lying in the rubble of a room suddenly exposed to the elements. Another woman lay prone on a wrecked hospital bed, blood everywhere from the explosive shells. The status monitor above the bed showed a flat line for her pulse.

  Bryce said, “Phoebe!”

  Despite what she had done to him so long ago, he did not feel she deserved a death like this.

  Servos whined from the lead bot as it lowered its aim and locked on the front door.

  BUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDA!

  The wall caved inward at the ground level, obliterating the reception desk and sending up clouds of dust and smoke.

  Bryce shouted to Parker, “They’re going inside! Come on, I know how we can stop this!”

  He ran through the large hole where the door used to be, jumping over debris scattered across the floor. Parker followed close behind. He ran past the elevators and headed for the stairwell, knocking open the door and taking the steps down two at a time.

  Something made him stop before he burst open the door to the basement.

  Parker pulled up sharply behind him. She said, “What is it?”

  “I don’t want to go rushing through that door just yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “Call it a hunch. I’m telling you, my hunches have been steering me right, lately.”

  Cautiously he pulled her to one side and pushed opened the door a crack.

  Blam! Bam! Blam! Blam!

  Rifle fire thunked into the metal door, leaving dents on their side.

  “It’s me, Detective Bryce! Don’t shoot!”

  A long pause.

  “Okay, Detective! You can come in!”

  Bryce eased the shot-up door open slowly and peeked around its corner. Several soldiers stood facing him with their rifles out, but aimed at the floor. All eyes were on him and Parker as they carefully exited the stairwell.

  Major Hamilton, in the flesh this time instead of his hologram, walked up from behind the soldiers and said, “Sorry about that, Detectives. My people are a little nervous with what’s going on out there.”

  “You have very little time before those bots get down here, Major. They’re going for the boy. You don’t have anything that can stop them, do you?”

  “I’m on the line with the Pentagon. They can’t restore a connection to reestablish control of the bots. So they’re sending over a battle group right now. ETA is 15 minutes.”

  “This is going to be over in 15 minutes. And chances are we’re all going to be dead by then if we don’t do something.”

  Another explosion boomed from the floor above, along with the distant staccato of small arms fire. They heard the metallic thumps of heavy metal feet above them.

  “What do you propose we do, Detective?”

  “We’ve got to wake up the boy. Right now.”

  “What? Absolutely not. Much as I’d like to for experimental reasons, my orders are to maintain his induced coma until further notice.”

  “Major, have you seen the video footage of what he did in Paris?”

  Hamilton nodded. “Yes. That’s why the Pentagon wants to keep him sedated.”

  “You don’t understand. He is the only one who can handle those bots up there. He’s our only chance!”

  They heard a muffled explosion, then more cannon fire.

  Hamilton said, “How are they even going to get down here, Detective? Have you seen the size of those things? There’s no way a tankbot will fit in the elevator, or even the stairwell.”

  The building shuddered as a new set of explosions rocked it. Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling. Soldiers scrambled out of the way as larger chunks fell from above.

  Bryce said, “They’re going to punch through the floor like it’s a tin can!”

  A louder explosion reverberated throughout the room and a large portion of the ceiling caved in. Light streamed through a hole the size of a dinner plate. They heard the whine of a servo as one of the bots tried to poke its turret through.

  Bryce pushed passed a group of soldiers staring up at the ceiling and headed for the steps leading down to the hospital bed. Down in the pit, a military doctor watched him dispassionately as he ran over from the foot of the steps. Bryce remembered him from an earlier meeting: Dr. DeSoto.

  “Wake him up!”

  DeSoto looked back at him completely emotionless. He glanced up at the sound of more explosions and falling masonry as the hole widened. The bot upstairs fired indiscriminately through the hole. Explosive shells lit up the room. Soldiers scrambled out of the way. Some were too late, and lay motionless around the upper level ringing the basement.

  DeSoto turned back to Bryce and said, “I can be court marshaled if I wake him up before we’re ordered to.”

  “Then I’ll do it! Just show me how.”

  The doctor said nothing, but he looked down at a red button linked to the IV bags. Bryce lunged across the bed and slapped the button hard. The IV system made a slight beep, and he saw a new color of liquid stream down the line and into Jacques’s arm.

  BOOM!

  BUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDA!

  The hole in the ceiling grew wider. One of the bots kneeled down and poked its turret through, its stubby six-foot long cannon intruding into the room.

  Jacques sat up quickly with a gasp.

  “Que fais-tu?”

  Bryce put an arm on him, gently, and said “Jacques, look at me. Look at me, son. You’re in a military facility and its under attack. The Vehm Gericht has sentenced you and your mother to death. Those bots are how they’re doing it. They’re going to kill everybody here if you don’t stop them.”

  BUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDA!

  The tankbot scanned the room, its turret swiveling, shooting up any person who moved. Most of the people in the room were dead. A handful of soldiers crowded the wall on the upper ring underneath it, out of sight from its sensors. Bryce noted Parker s
tanding with them. She was safe. For the moment.

  The boy quickly regained his senses. His head turned as he took it all in, the death and destruction, the medical equipment. The tankbot scanning the room from a hole in the ceiling.

  He looked back at Bryce and said, “You are really my father?”

  Bryce said, “Yes. Phoebe took my DNA 15 years ago and it was used to create you.”

  BUDDABUDDABUDDABUDDA!

  Slowly the turret turned toward them, the servos whining.

  Bryce said, “Right now, if you don’t stop that thing, we’re all going to die. I need you to take it out, like the one at the Paris airport.”

  “You saw that?” Jacques said, a burst of youthful pride blossoming on his face.

  Bryce nodded. He said, “You need to hurry, son. It’s already killed your mother. Just moments ago.”

  The boy’s eyes flashed red, like an old camera bulb, startling Bryce. He took an involuntary step back as the full force of Jacques’s rage flooded his mind.

  Jacques looked up at the turret just as it turned and locked on him. He screamed, a loud, primordial yell, filled with blood and vengeance.

  The tankbot exploded, fire ripping through the hole above and licking the ceiling.

  Jacques jumped out of bed and lifted himself up out of the pit, leaping 25 feet. He landed next to Parker and the soldiers against the wall.

  Major Hamilton stepped forward from the group, raised a hand and said, “You’ve got to stop. Stop right there.”

  Jacques looked at him and snorted. He said, “Hexenhammer.”

  With a flick of his hand Jacques sent the major flying over the railing and down into the pit. Then he looked up at the hole in the ceiling and jumped again, this time boosting himself through the opening and up to the first floor.

  Parker and a couple of soldiers ran over to the railing and watched as Hamilton pulled himself to his feet.

  She said, “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine. Nothing broken. We need to stop the subject.”

  Bryce ran up the steps. He looked down at the major and said, “You can stop him after he’s taken out the other bots.”