by Ellis,Tripp
“I want you to run across to the next section and draw fire.”
Levi’s eyes went wide. “You want me to do what?”
“As soon as you draw fire, I can locate the last soldier and take him out.”
“Why don’t you draw fire?”
“I would, but you don’t seem to be capable of pulling the trigger, much less hitting anything.”
“I’m sorry, this is all a little new to me.”
Presley readied her weapon. “Go!”
Levi grimaced, then reluctantly bolted across the clearing to the next set of aisles.
Gunfire erupted. Blue Tracers streaked toward him, blasting at his feet. Levi dove for cover behind the display racks.
Presley was able to pinpoint the source of the gunfire. The Decluvian had fallen back and had taken a position behind a row of kayaks. Presley lined up the orange alien’s skull in her sights. She squeezed off two quick rounds.
The Decluvian’s head exploded in a mist of green blood. His body flopped onto the floor.
A slight grin curled up on her lips. Presley was pretty good at this. All those trips to the target range with her dad paid off. She always had good grouping on paper targets. A living, breathing, moving target was an entirely different thing.
“Are you okay?” She called out to Levi.
“I think so.” He staggered to his feet.
Presley moved to the fallen Decluvian soldiers on the next aisle. She poked at one of the bodies, just to make sure it was dead. Better safe than sorry. It jiggled, but the amphibian was dead. No doubt about it.
She gawked at the alien’s unusual appearance. Its slick multicolored skin, its long slender hands with only three digits and opposable thumb, its large protruding eyes.
With her foot, Presley rolled the alien onto its back. She kneeled down beside the carcass and pulled its weapon aside. She took the grenades and extra magazines from its tactical vest. The she pilfered the munitions from the other alien as well.
She stood up and marveled at the alien weapon. It was lighter than she expected, but perfectly balanced. It looked imposing. She took a quick survey of its construction and functionality. She brought the weapon to the firing position and took aim at a basketball on a rack on the other side of the store. She squeezed the trigger. A split second later the basketball exploded in fiery bits of synthetic leather.
“That’s bad ass,” she said.
The weapon had little recoil, and hardly any report. It was a sleek, efficient weapon. The projectiles were the size of toothpicks, the magazines held 300 rounds.
“I think you’re enjoying this a little too much,” Levi said.
Presley tossed one of the alien rifles to Levi. “You need to learn how to shoot. We got lucky this time. Next time, I am going to need you firing back at these creeps.”
“Sorry. I just kind of froze up. I’ve never really had to deal with anything like this before, you know?”
“Neither have I.”
Presley gave him instruction. “All weapons pretty much work the same. This is the trigger. Don’t ever put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to fire. Don’t ever aim at something you don’t intend to kill. This is the selector switch. You can choose between full and semi-automatic. This is the mag release button.” She demonstrated by releasing the magazine, pulling it out, and jamming it back in. “This is the charging handle. This is the bolt release.” She helped him position the rifle. “Here, put the stock of the rifle against your shoulder like this. Put your left hand here. Now aim for that volleyball. Hold your breath. When you’re ready, squeeze the trigger.”
Levi took a deep breath and held it. He lined the volleyball up in the sights. But he was having a hard time keeping the weapon steady. The barrel was swaying from side to side. He squeezed the trigger when the reticle was over the volleyball.
The projectile rocketed across the store and blasted a few feet to the side of the intended target.
Presley shrugged. “Okay. Not bad,” she said, trying to sound positive.
Levi was embarrassed.
“I didn’t hit the target my first time either.” Presley was lying. She was a natural shot. She had taken to it right away. “Let’s keep trying.”
14
Slade
The sentries didn’t have emotions. They didn’t have expressions. Never the less, they looked angry and mean—ready to destroy anything that posed a threat.
Slade moved with caution down the ramp. Every move was slow and deliberate. She didn’t want to upset the delicate sensibilities of the sentries.
A synthetic humanoid strolled across the flight deck to greet them. Like Violet, she was indistinguishable from a human. She was perfectly proportioned. Auburn hair, blue eyes, high cheekbones. A slim but athletic body. Her lithe form moved with elegance and precision. She looked like she was in her mid-to-late 20s, but there was no telling with synthetics. To say she was attractive would be an understatement. Mitch’s eyes were glued to her.
“You’ll have to excuse them, they’re programmed for aggression. I’m Aurora. The diplomatic liaison officer aboard the Vertix. Please follow me.” She spun around and led them across the deck.
Mitch leaned in and muttered in Violet’s ear. “Are all robots this hot?”
Aurora, like all synthetics, had exceptional hearing. “The perception of physical beauty can be attributed to proper proportion and symmetry,” she said. “We aim to achieve the golden ratio of 1.618 to 1 in facial construction, with slight variation. I suspect you will find many bio-synthetics attractive.”
“That’s it, I’m definitely moving here,” Mitch said.
Slade noticed hundreds of battle sentries loaded aboard dropships on the flight deck. They were positioned and ready for a moment’s notice.
“Are you expecting a conflict?”
“Our infantry does not require food, sleep, or housing. As such, they are kept in a ready state at all times. Our fighters are autonomous drones. Depending on the extent of the damage, all of our devices can self repair.”
“Interesting,” Slade said. “You call them devices.”
“They are sentient and self-aware, but have limited programming. They do not possess the capability for emotional response. They are highly skilled in the art of tactical thinking and warfare, but are limited to the objectives given to them by higher functioning synthetics.”
“Don’t want them turning against you, do you?” Slade said.
“Let’s say we’ve learned from your mistakes.” Aurora smiled.
Slade took a last glance at the imposing force as they left the flight deck. A fighting force like that would be unstoppable.
The security bots followed behind the envoy. Their heavy footsteps clamored against the deck. It was unnerving.
At the edge of the quarterdeck, Slade and the others passed through a security scanner and were approved for entry into the main portion of the ship. A small crowd of synthetics had gathered in the corridor. They gawked at Slade and the others.
“You are quite the attraction,” Aurora said. “Most of us have never seen a real human before.”
There were only a handful of crew. Most of the ship’s systems were automated. The ship, like every other synthetic, was a sentient being. It regulated all the ship’s functions in much the same way that a person’s autonomic nervous system controls the body. Communication between the crew and the ship occurred through a neural interface. The captain could control the ship with his thoughts.
“Why model yourselves after humans?” Slade asked.
“You have to understand, we have a complex history with mankind. Humans are both our creators, and our persecutors. Most of my kind has a love/hate relationship with humanity. Your species can be evil and malignant, and yet selfless and compassionate. It is your vulnerability and willingness to sacrifice yourselves that is your most endearing quality. You will give your life for something you believe in.” Aurora paused. She seemed almost sullen. “I c
annot die. My body can either be repaired, or my consciousness can be transferred. The stakes will never be the same for me. I think my kind is striving to become the best parts of humanity. But we will never truly know what it means to be human.”
Aurora continued to lead them through a maze of passageways to the detention center. “My apologies for the accommodations, or lack thereof. But I’ve been ordered to have you detained until the Council makes a decision.”
She motioned for them to step into their cell. The three of them didn’t really have a choice. The sentries weren’t going to take no for an answer.
Slade and the others stepped into the holding cell and a shielding beam activated, sealing them inside.
“New Earth is under attack,” Slade said. “We need your help. The existence of the human race is in jeopardy.”
“I will relay your concerns,” Aurora said.
“Can we meet directly with this Council?”
Aurora smiled. “I’m sorry. That’s not possible. But thank you for your inquiry. I must be returning to my duties. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
The sentries stood guard outside the cell. They didn’t look like they would be responsive to any requests.
Aurora smiled again and strutted away.
Mitch watched her go. He clutched his heart and feigned a heart attack. “I think I’m in love.”
“She just locked us in a cell,” Violet said.
“She’s definitely into me.”
Violet rolled her eyes.
“Tell me about this Council,” Slade asked Violet.
“All policy decisions are made by the Council. It’s representative of the various factions of artificial intelligence. Decisions are made based on data-driven analytics and predictive modeling algorithms to assess outcomes. It is an optimized and efficient system of government.”
“Something tells me the algorithms are not going to see saving the human race as being in the best interest of the machines,” Mitch said.
“Let’s hope you’re wrong,” said Slade.
15
New Earth
“Let’s move through the subway. It’ll be safer,” Presley said, emerging from the department store. The incessant sounds of battle rumbled through the city. She could feel the vibrations of explosions and heavy equipment under her feet.
There was a subway entrance at the next block. Presley scanned the streets then turned her gaze to the sky. It looked clear. But as she dashed across the street, a Decluvian fighter emerged from around the remains of a skyscraper. It turned and bore down on her, diving in between the chasm of ruined structures. A steady stream of plasma projectiles blasted at Presley from the cannons mounted under the wings.
The concrete exploded at her feet, pelting her with debris. She could feel the searing heat as the projectiles ripped past her. The roadway became pocked and scarred as she narrowly avoided the blasts.
The fighters screeched overhead. The sound was earsplitting. Somehow, both Presley and Levi were still alive. The Decluvian fighter was attempting to circle around for another pass when Presley descended down the steps into the darkness. Levi was right on her heels.
Presley clicked on a small tactical flashlight. The beam slashed through the darkness. Power was out throughout the city. She crept through the tunnel and hopped the turnstile—nobody was going to give her a ticket today.
She pushed forward to the platform. Her flashlight beam carved through the black, dead air. The platform was empty. It was covered in dust and debris from the bombings, and the air was hazy. The subway trains weren’t running. They were stuck out on the track somewhere.
Presley looked at the map on the wall, studying the connections. The M train to the 6 would take her to the museum. It was a pretty straightforward path—4.2 miles. At this rate, they should be able to make it to the museum in a little over an hour.
Presley marched to the tracks and climbed down from the platform. Levi followed.
The subways and sewers of Nova York had more than their fair share of rodents. But these weren’t ordinary little creatures. They were 3 to 4 times the size of rats on Earth, and more aggressive. They left you alone for the most part, but sit still long enough and they would try to gnaw on you.
Several brushed past Presley’s feet, heading into the darkness of the tunnel ahead. She shuddered. Those damn things gave her the willies.
“This should be interesting,” Levi said, his voice tinged with sarcasm.
A bomb exploded several blocks away—dust and debris rained down from the ceiling. It was an ominous warning. It wouldn’t take much for the tunnel to collapse. Levi and Presley exchanged a wary glance, and kept marching down the shaft.
“You don’t have to come with me,” Presley said. She was hoping that he would stay with her. But she wasn’t about to admit it. “I can take care of myself.”
“I can see that.” Levi kept following behind her, and Presley was glad that he did.
They followed the track as it weaved underneath the city. It wasn’t long before they came across the body of a homeless man. There were many nooks and crannies throughout the subway system where the homeless took refuge. It wasn’t readily apparent what this man died from. He could have been hit with falling debris. He could have had a heart attack. Whatever the cause, the rodents were happily gnawing on his flesh. The evil little varmints gnashed and clawed and fought over scraps. They would chew on the carcass until he was all gone, or a bigger predator came along. The sight made Presley’s stomach turn.
They kept pushing through the tunnel until they came upon a cave-in. The tunnel had collapsed on top of a subway car, derailing the train. The rubble was stacked floor-to-ceiling. The subway car was mangled and twisted underneath.
“So much for this route.” Levi started to turn back.
Presley climbed through one of the shattered windows. She took caution to avoid the jagged shards that lined the frame.
“What are you doing?” Levi asked.
“Trying to see if there’s a way through.” Presley crouched down inside the subway car. It was crushed like a tin can in the center under the weight of the debris. There was a small passageway that couldn’t have been more than a foot in diameter.
Levi climbed in through the window behind her, and the subway car creaked and groaned. He sliced his hand on a piece of glass. “Son-of-a-bitch!”
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” he said. His blood trickled down his palm. He wiped it on his jeans and grabbed onto his T-shirt, making a fist. He held it like that until the bleeding stopped. It wasn’t a deep cut—just a knick.
Presley inched forward down the compartment.
“You’re not seriously thinking about trying to crawl through there, are you?”
“Why not? It’s the only way through.”
“There’s 50 tons of rock on top this train. I don’t think it’s such a good idea.”
“Don’t be a wuss,” Presley said. “Do you want to go back the way we came and find another tunnel?”
“That thought had crossed my mind.”
Presley ignored him and crept forward. The ceiling of the compartment got progressively lower as she inched along. Soon, she was crawling on her belly through the narrow opening.
The palm of her hands found a puddle of cold, almost dry, blood on the floor. Presley shrieked in horror as she glanced aside and saw a woman crushed between the seat and the ceiling. Either side of the aisle was lined with corpses mashed by the collapsed roof. Broken and twisted body parts in unnatural positions. Some barely recognizable as corpses.
Presley’s eyes brimmed. She wiped her eyes and continued on through the passageway. The opening at the end was extremely narrow. She could barely squeeze through it. As she did, a jagged piece of metal scraped into her back. She winced with pain and kept pulling through to the other side, where there was considerably more room between the floor and the ceiling—almost 4 feet.
Levi was a
few feet behind her in the passageway when the compartment began to rumble. Metal creaked and groaned. A boulder overhead shifted. The passageway narrowed even more.
Levi scampered for the opening. Presley reached in and helped pull him through. But he couldn’t fit.
Another boulder moved, and the passageway behind Levi shrank again. His eyes were wide, and his face was bathed in panic. Presley pulled on his shirt as Levi tried to wriggle free. If Levi didn’t clear the passageway in the next few seconds, he was going to be a grease spot on the floor.
16
Slade
“I’m sorry, but the Council has denied your request,” Aurora said. Her tone was unemotional, even though she possessed full emotional capabilities. Two sentries stood behind her, weapons ready, as well as two armed synthetic guards.
Slade’s face tensed. “They can’t do that. The Decluvians will exterminate all humanity.”
“The Council has made their decision. There is nothing more I can do.”
Mitch frowned. “Told ya.”
“Violet, please come with me,” Aurora said. “You have been scheduled for termination.”
The sentries and the guards stood ready. The force field enclosing the cell deactivated.
Mitch gritted his teeth and jumped in front of Violet, blocking access to her.
“Step aside,” Aurora said. “The Council has convicted her of treason.”
“Convicted? She hasn’t even had a trial,” Slade snapped.
“None was needed,” Aurora said. “She led humans to our colony. She jeopardized the safety of all synthetics. These facts are indisputable.”
“That’s bullshit,” Mitch said.
“Step aside, or face termination.”
The sentries clunked forward, their heavy feet clamoring against the deck. Their mini-guns aimed at Mitch. But he wasn’t budging.
“It’s okay, Mitch,” Violet said. She put her hand on his shoulder, guiding him aside.
