by Chris Lowry
“We have these games that we watch,” said Robe. “The Computer arranges contests between Athletes. They’re bred and trained to compete and we bet on them, or watch just for fun.”
“They do the sort of things I do?”
“I’ve never seen them.”
“Sure,” said Pip, crawling closer to them. “I’ve seen them lots. They lift metal plates on bars. They’re as big as you, but some of them are even bigger. They do all sorts of things.”
“Is that why you’re so big?” asked Robe. “Calisthenics?”
“I don’t know. I just do them.”
“Should we do them too? Since we’re with you now?” asked Pip.
“I think so,” he nodded, never breaking his form.
“Show us that push up again,” said Robe. He lay on the ground on his stomach.
The Templar demonstrated a variety of exercises and stretches, ignoring their moans and complaints. No one in his squad dared to complain for fear of reprisal by Eleven. But this was a different place, and to train a new army, he needed to use new methods. His old ways grafted with their learning rate. That much he was sure. He was also sure he wanted to know more about the Athletes.
31
“I’m not going to have the Doctor arrested just because you don’t like him,” she said.
Bram leaned against the wall across from her desk. She had never seen him pout before, but since the appearance and subsequent disappearance of the Templar, Bram hadn’t been himself. She used to rely on his solidity, as solid in fact as the sun rising each morning or the Computer having answer for her.
But he was shaken now.
She could tell he didn’t go to bed last night, didn’t take a shower this morning, didn’t bother to change his uniform. He was wrinkled and dazed, sharp eyes drilling into her from under drooping eyelids.
“I just want you to detain him.”
“What has he done?
He wanted to tell her that he was dangerous, an unreliable factor to the equation of the Templar. He wanted to tell her that the Doctor assaulted him, disabling a grip he shouldn’t have been able to, using training he wasn’t supposed to have. He wanted to go to sleep, and regain his strength, rest his mind. But he had to be up to organize the hunt. He had to requisition and reorganize, shift schedules and change duty rotations. He could have left it up to the Computer, but he liked to have a say in what went on in his command, a hand in decision making policy. If he turned over any small part to the Computer, then it would be even easier next time until soon, he would only teach combat classes, and even that could be simulated.
“I don’t think we can trust him,” was all he answered.
“I wish that were enough,” she huddled over the keyboard, fingers tapping in a series of commands. “The files on him are clean, and the Computer suggest probabilities are almost nil. He’s clean and we have to respect that.”
“I could post a guard on him. For his own protection.”
“Don’t we have more important things to talk about? Leave Darwin alone. He’s glad to be back in Troop graces. He won’t do anything to jeopardize that standing,” she pursed her lips in thought, looked over her shoulder at the portrait of the Founder. “Besides, he was a friend of Conrad’s. We have to trust him.”
“I don’t.”
“Duly noted and marked. Can we move on?”
Bram sighed and slinked across the room to collapse on a corner of her desk.
“I’ve outfitted three squads for recon,” he said. “Two by air, on ground. The air teams will cover more ground, searching for signs of the car. The ground team will remain in a state of readiness.”
“Have the ground team start a sweep from the alley and move out in a standard search formation,” she amended.
“They wouldn’t have ditched the car so close to us. It was dark last night, Mob would’ve got them.”
“With this guy, we can’t take that chance. Stats say there is a fifteen percent chance he dropped the car around the corner and hid.”
Bram shook his head, frowning. He knew the argument was coming, like storm clouds on the horizon, and yet he couldn’t avoid it. He was too tired, and the disagreement was too familiar an area.
“We know that’s not true. It’s just what the Computer is telling you. Listen to your instinct. Sure, we’ve never encountered anything like this guy before, but you know he didn’t drop the car. He’s got one of us with him, he couldn’t take that chance. Stop relying on the box so much.”
She turned her chair away from him, watching the portrait, and her pale reflection in the plex-steel window. Robe, traitor. The thought of the young man eclipsed any argument in her. He had been handpicked from a side variety of candidates and started the initiation training three years ago. Tested beyond any of the other Troops for intelligence and physical prowess, Robe could maneuver a Suit better than even Bram. Until last night, she thought he was loyal beyond questioning. But he helped the enemy escape his sentence.
“He may have had good intentions,” she told herself. “But he disobeyed a direct order from her to stay away from him.”
The Computer concurred with her decision. She wondered what sort of power this Templar possessed to win him over so easily. Now the Computer called for Robe’s death too. It wouldn’t be easy. She had never had to kill a friend before.
“You’re right,” she told Bram. “He would have looked for someplace safe to set down. Bring up a map and let’s find a place to put down our ground team. I don’t want them waiting, I want them searching.”
She stared at a picture of Conrad, wondering if he ever ordered the death of his own men. There was no mention of it in the history, but she wasn’t sure it was something you would write down. It just didn’t feel right.
32
Bruce followed Darwin into his laboratory with a small bit of trepidation. The lab was still in shambles, only the doors had been repaired, and reinforced against future Mob incursions. Still, Bruce was nervous. The lab was where it all started and he came to realize he was a quivering coward. It was something he had always suspected, something he had tried to repress and avoid for all of his life. But deep in his heart, he knew, that he feared. Nameless, faceless terrors of just being alive, he feared, period. He hated the Templar for bringing that out in him, for dredging up the realization he had worked so hard to hide. The Doctor hadn’t mentioned it, but it was on all the released vids for anyone to see. Bruce could do nothing but claim a temporary insanity brought on by trauma. A few people bought it, but not many.
“Why are we here,” he asked, his voice sounding small in the lab. He moved to a wall, to cut off an avenue of access.
Darwin seemed unconcerned. He even seemed to be unaware of his surroundings as he puttered about gathering familiar items and stuffing them in a travel bag. Document discs were stored in his satchel, spare pieces of clothing were thrown in with a towel and shaving kit.
“I have to gather my things,” he told Bruce. “Something is going to happen.
Bruce hit record on his audio recorder.
“What?”
“I don’t know for sure. But something.”
“Could you be more specific?” Bruce moved closer to the Doctor
“Why are you so curious? For the six months you worked for me, you never asked so many questions. Now you want to know every move I make. If I didn’t know better, I would suspect ulterior motives.”
The Doctor stopped and stared at Bruce. The assistant backpedaled against the wall, trying to escape the glare. He scrambled for the door.
“Nothing to suspect, Doc. Just questions-” his explanation was cut off in mid-sentence. Darwin grabbed him by the neck. He tossed the young man into the wall with a strength that belied his years.
“Are you working for her?” he growled.
His hands searched Bruce, feeling for weapons, anything. He found the recorder and held it in front of the young man’s face.
“What is this?”
Bruce made a h
alfhearted grab for it.
“Nothing.”
“An audio button. Why were you recording me? Are you working for her?” Darwin stood up, dragging Bruce up the wall. “You tell her it won’t work. I won’t lead you to him. I don’t know where he is. And if he contacts me, I’ll disavow all knowledge. You go tell her that.”
“But I don’t work for her,” Bruce whined.
“Why should I trust you? You’ve got to earn trust, and this act of betrayal,” he held up the recorder. “What should I do with you?”
“Kill him,” the Templar’s deep voice called through the half open doorway.
He stepped inside the room, flanked by two Suits with guns drawn. They drew a bead on Bruce.
He collapsed to the floor, wailing.
“You’re here,” Darwin breathed, smiling.
“I came for you.”
“And you have friends. Hello to you both.”
Robe and Pip nodded, but kept their blaster rifles on Bruce.
“I didn’t do anything, I swear. Doc, I was getting information to write a column for the info-zettes. That’s all. I’ve been selling exclusive stories. I didn’t sell you out to the Troops.”
“What should I believe Bruce? That’s a good cover story.”
Darwin moved to the table to retrieve his bag.
“I don’t know how to keep you quiet until we’re well away from here.”
“Kill him,” the Templar commanded again.
The whine of the rifles grew louder. Bruce screamed.
“Please! I don’t want to die.”
“Templar,” Robe’s voice was metallic through the Suit’s intercom. “We can run a diagnostics, see if he has a link to the Commander.”
“Do it.”
“It’ll pinpoint our whereabouts,” Pip added. “They’ll come for us.”
The Templar turned to Darwin.
“You are coming with us?”
Darwin nodded.
“You can decide his fate.”
Robe looked at the Doctor, pleading, teardrops welling up in the corners of his eyes.
“I don’t want you to kill him. I don’t want that on my conscious. Can we take him with us?”
The Templar stalked over toward the young man. Bruce squealed and tried to press himself into the wall. The Templar kneeled so their faces were level.
“If I bring you with me, you will obey every order. You will not speak, you will not attract attention to us. If you do, I will tear out your throat. You know I can do it.”
Bruce nodded, tears rolling down his thin cheeks.
“Do you want to come with us? Or should I kill you?”
“Some choice,” Robe muttered, laughing. Bruce tried to smile with him.
“I’ll- I’ll come with you.”
“As I suspected,” the Templar moved away from the assistant. Robe and Pip raised their guns, taking away their aim.
The Templar brought Darwin to a table.
“They are looking for us. I am told by these two that they will find us, sooner or later. I am weak now. I need rest, before I fight again. We are going to an island.”
“An island? What about pirates?”
“Corsairs,” Bruce moaned.
“I am not concerned with a bunch of fishermen. I need someplace I won’t have to worry about Suits dropping in on me. They are afraid of the islands. I am not. So, I will go there.”
“What about these two?” Darwin motioned to Pip and Robe. The stood at attention, guns held across their chest.
“They have chosen to come with me.”
“And me?”
“I need your help to find a place. I want information you have about me. Other than that, you are free to go. After.”
“I’ll go with you. My research is done here.”
Bruce coughed in the corner.
“But Doc, the Troops want you back for R&D with them. You can’t turn your back on that.”
The Templar pulled his pistol and shoved it into the Doctor’s stomach.
“You work for them?”
Robe was beside him.
“Research and Development, Templar. He works on the Suits and stuff like that. He’s a scientist. Harmless.”
Darwin went down on one knee.
“I swear my fealty to you, master.”
Templar laughed.
“What is that?”
“This is an ancient Knight ritual, where a man swears his allegiance to the Team. If you had your sword, you would tap my shoulders and anoint me with oil and wine. Since we don’t have that, I’ll accept your hand on my head.”
“We never wasted wine like that,” the Templar laughed. “Pouring it on a man’s head? Why would you drink it after that?”
“You didn’t drink it. It was supposed to symbolize the blood you shared.”
The Templar shook his head.
“Maybe that was something they did somewhere else. I have never encountered it.”
Darwin got up and rummaged through his satchel. He pulled out the old book and gently opened it to an illustration.
“Are you sure? It says right here,” he pointed to a picture of the Templar Knights gathered for a ceremony.
Templar took the book away from him.
“Careful,” Darwin admonished.
“What is this?”
“It’s called a book.”
“I bet he can’t read,” Bruce sniped.
“Quiet boy,” said Darwin. “This is a book about your Order. How you came about the second time, to protect and serve until the First Computer War. This tells about you. What you believe, your honor system, your goals.”
“This . . . book knows about me?”
“Not you specifically. Men like you. Your Order, team.”
“Interesting,” the Templar flipped through the ancient yellowed pages. They cracked and crinkled under his fingers.
“Are you bringing this with you?”
Darwin nodded.
“You will tell me more later. Now find a-” he turned to Pip. “What was that thing called?”
“We need a map,” she said, never taking her eyes off the door.
“Doc?” said Bruce. Pip turned her gun on him.
“Do you have a map that will take us to the Ocean? A map that shows islands?” asked the Templar.
“Around here somewhere,” he moved to his computer terminal. Robe slammed the lid shut.
“Sorry, Doctor. We can’t let you access your terminal. Its connection would alert them to our prescience.”
“Doc?” said Bruce.
“I’m not connecting to the Mainframe,” explained Darwin, opening the lid. “All my work is in standalone. How else do you think I constructed a time hole without anyone knowing? All my information is in here. If I turn it on, no one will know.”
“Doc!” screamed Bruce.
“What!”
“They’re here,” he pointed to a vid screen above the door.
Outside, in the hallway, a squad of Troops were methodically checking each doorway.
“Damn,” Robe swore and powered up his plasma rifle.
Bruce babbled hysterically, low moaning noises that grew louder with each breath. The Templar grabbed Darwin by the lapel.
“Shut him up, or kill him.”
He ducked behind a thick block table.
“Give me your rifle,” he ordered Robe.
“I’ve got it set on stun.”
“These are your companions. I would feel safer with the gun in my hand.”
Robe looked hurt.
“You can trust me Templar. I swear. I‘m on your side.”
Pip plopped down on the other side of him.
“Me too,” she added with a smile. She handed him her pistol and hunkered around the edge of the table.
“But maybe they won’t find us,” she winked at the Templar and tinted her faceplate against the plasma blasts.
He nodded, clapping Robe on the shoulder. They squeezed beside Pip.
&nbs
p; Darwin dragged Bruce to their feet.
“What should I do?”
“They know you’re here. Get them to leave. Or give me the element of surprise,” the Templar gripped two pistols.
Darwin moved to the door. It opened in front of startled Troops. They raised their guns to him.
“No need for that,” Darwin laughed nervously.
“How did you know we were here?” a Trooper asked, his metallic voice masking his identity.
Darwin pointed to the monitor.
“Every move you make,” he winked and moved to a desk by the window.
“We’re doing a search for the prisoner who escaped,” said the Trooper, moving into the room. Two others assumed guard at the door. “This will only take a moment.”
He walked around the room, moving closer to the table.
“They found a car in the quad. It was hidden, but they traced it with heat signatures. We impounded it. They can’t use the car if they get away from us,” the Trooper explained to the Doctor.
Darwin made a move to his bag. One of the Troopers at the door turned on him, motioning him away with his gun. Darwin sat back in the chair, sweating.
“We’ll search the campus once. Then create a perimeter to keep watch. Of course, after dark, we’ll rely on the old Mob to keep them in for us.”
He leaned around the edge of the table, staring at the three escapees. Templar raised a pistol to his faceplate. Pip grabbed his arm, jerking it down and shaking her head.
Ju winked at them and moved on.
“Nothing in here,” he told the other Troopers. “Doctor, I’m going to ask you to remain in this room until we are done searching. Then maybe get your car and get home before dark.”
Darwin nodded, confused.
The Troopers left, sealing the door behind them.
Pip popped her head above the table.
“All clear.”
Robe jumped up with the Templar.
“That was Ju. He’s on our side.”
The Templar nodded.
“He knew we were in here.”
Pip powered down her rifle.
“He gave us the torch to cut you out. His Suit is registered to ours. Even though we’re off line, his Suit will tell him when he’s near us. We set it up that way, so he’d know to duck if things got hot.”
