Echo Effect

by Robert D. Armstrong

Keith gulped. He felt his heart racing. Not only were Lucas and himself the only people there that knew Saven was part human, but Keith had formed an attachment with Saven. These Marines were trying to kill someone he’d trained and watched progress for months.

  “Seriously, Keith?” Lucas whispered.

  Keith simply looked straight ahead at Casser, ignoring the question.

  Casser spoke before Keith could answer. “This first phase of the games will be far enough away that we aren’t at risk. We’ll be underground. The Marines will control and send out their drones to hunt down the intruder. We have a kill switch for every drone as a fallback, correct?” Casser questioned.

  “Yes, sir. All of them,” Belmont answered quickly.

  “Of course, Agent Casser. I can power the prototype down as well, if needed. I’ll link your team with access,” Keith said.

  “Good. We’ll need access to that capability on both sides,” Casser ordered.

  Belmont smirked. The rumor was that this newest prototype might be more of a challenge, but supposedly, so was the last one. What better way to prove his effectiveness as a leader than to deliver a knockout blow in the first phase?

  Not only that, Captain Belmont was up for the rank of major. A decisive win against SolarSystems just might push him over the edge this time.

  Casser continued with the briefing. “Phase two will be Marines versus the prototype. All Marine and prototype firearms will be set to stun rounds. In this phase, the prototype must infiltrate command and assassinate the terrorist leader, which, in this case, will be played by you, Mr. Belmont,” Casser said as the Marines looked right at him. Belmont had already made it clear the prototype wouldn’t even make it to this stage of the drill, and that was an order, not an opinion.

  “Phase two starts when and if the prototype makes it within a two-mile radius of this installation. Phase one is anything beyond that marked two-mile radius,” Casser briefed.

  Before starting again, Casser looked toward Garza, a veteran of these games. He’d seen Garza in at least two previous Crucibles. Garza nodded at him when they made eye contact. Casser returned the gesture respectfully while speaking.

  Staff Sergeant Garza was the only female in the unit, but by far, the most capable leader other than Belmont and easily the best shooter. A true professional. She was about five foot nine and built athletically. She didn’t say much, but when she did, it stuck. She thought about her words and her actions before executing.

  She demanded respect. Not once did she ever receive a sexual advance from one of her fellow Marines—a common issue in most coed platoons such as this.

  It wasn’t because she lacked physical appeal. She was an attractive tomboy, but she made it clear she didn’t date Marines and they listened.

  Garza was from deep in south Texas. She grew up during a violent war between the drug lords and the authorities. Two of her uncles and an aunt were killed in the vicious battles for control over the border.

  Garza learned to use a gun at the age of ten. Since she could remember, it had been nothing but fighting. By the age of twelve, she was on guard duty outside of her window with an old-school AK-100 rifle, watching her neighborhood.

  Surges of violence spilled over the border, then subsided. The fighting peaked at one point, forcing the president to send in the Marines. He didn’t bother with the National Guard. The Marines quickly dispatched the thugs, driving them back into Mexico and setting up camp in her hometown for a few months. Garza was impressed by the Marines’ camaraderie and take-charge attitude. Even though she was only in middle school, she decided then that was what she wanted to do.

  “Marines, obviously your goal is to repel the assassin and protect Captain Belmont. Any contact shot will count as a death for either side, forcing you to sit out the remainder of the games in our penalty box.”

  “If you manage to shoot the prototype once, you win. No questions asked. Friendly fire counts as a death too,” Casser said, nodding his head slightly.

  “Ah man, all we gotta do is hit that thing once? Seems a little unfair. We’ll have twenty-two rifles on him. He won’t even make it past our drones,” an older corporal joked.

  Belmont and Garza both turned slowly toward the outburst.

  “You done?” Garza said. The corporal lowered his head slightly, pretending he didn’t notice them staring.

  “All right, the games start at exactly 1300 hours today. I understand the Marines have set up their drone stations and are ready, as is the prototype. We will be in the control center, monitoring all communications and cameras.” Casser looked around briefly then paused.

  “If there are any questions during the event or medical emergencies, use channel 01. That’s where we will be. You have your orders. Good luck.” Casser dashed back toward his station, pointing his men in various directions.

  “Keith, lethal force for phase one?” Lucas questioned again as they headed back. Keith was visually upset, trying to appear focused, but it didn’t work.

  “Yeah... well, they think he’s a drone, that’s why. They think we can just replace the parts, but...” Keith said as Lucas stepped out in front of him.

  “Can’t replace a person,” Lucas pointed out as the Marines marched past them. Some of them brushed up against Keith while giving Lucas room.

  “That’s not going to happen. There’s a reason I’ve poured my life into this, and I’ll be damned if anyone takes it away from me. This is our moment, and whatever happens, at least I can say I put my all into it,” Keith said intensely. He lowered his voice as Garza stomped towards them.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen,” Garza said, turning her body sideways and stepping between them.

  “You’ve done more than enough, Keith. I’ve never seen anyone this devoted to any program, but—” Lucas said.

  “What then? That’s it,” Keith replied.

  “There’s something morally wrong here. Don’t you feel it? I understand he’s not completely human. I get that.” Lucas paused.

  “There’s not much morally right about the world these days. You of all people ought to understand that. No offense. I can’t help that I’m on this side of it now. I just hope some good can come from it,” Keith explained. Lucas stared at Keith for a few seconds.

  “That’s what I used to tell myself,” Lucas said as trudged off.

  Keith looked crestfallen at Lucas’ remarks. However, there was a certain strength emitting from his demeanor. Deep down, he was fighting back. It was a mental war he wasn’t going to take lying down.

  He understood Lucas could recognize that in his eyes. He knew Lucas had experiences in the SEALs he wasn’t proud of. He’d probably lost some men.

  Keith knew the other side of it. Risking Saven in a drill did seemed pointless, but his development had always been about a victory at the Crucible. It wasn’t war, it was a drill, and despite the prototype being mostly machine, he was still part man.

  However, to some, it was worth the risk. If Saven could be successful here, he’d most certainly land a government contract that paid back the investment tenfold. It wouldn’t be easy though. The Crucible was designed for failure. A Marine element team stacked with experience against a single prototype. The odds were not in Saven’s favor.

  Chapter Ten

  Agent Casser booted up all his command room cameras. The system was cutting edge, for the mid-2060s at least, but it was due for an upgrade. He’d been using this same setup since the Crucible started. That was before SolarSystems was even conceived.

  He wondered when he would get funding for newer holographic 3D cameras that could see through walls. For now, he could see and hear most everything, Saven’s perspective, the drone’s, Keith’s control room, and all the Marine stations. He had eyes and ears everywhere down to the smallest detail.

  “Well, people, we have a visual...” Casser said as their cameras displayed images and audio. Agent Niven came in and sat down beside him, giving him a tally of agents watching the various cameras,
including himself.

  “Did anyone bring popcorn?” Niven joked.

  “This is serious business. If we miss something, it could be dangerous,” Casser said, sternly looking over at Niven. Casser leaned in, whispering, “That’s not the example I want to set for our newest agents, not that you are seasoned, by any means.”

  “I understand, sir. Just trying to lighten the mood a bit.”

  One hour before the drill, Casser observed Keith and Lucas glaring over at the Marines. The old, misty glass window that separated the two parties was blurred, but they could still see each other.

  The Marines came alive. They moved quickly and with purpose, like an army of ants rising up to protect the hill from an intruder. Everyone had a role that appeared second nature, drilled in over hundreds of hours of repetition.

  “Icepick, this is bravo actual. How copy?” the Marine prompted his drone.

  The drone’s artificial intelligence pinged back a “Ready” flash on the operator’s holographic display.

  The drones had an intimidating stance, tank-like tracks for movement, twin laser cannons on each arm that were gyro-stabilized, and a basketball-sized sensor array for a head. The brutes were clearly the seek-and-destroy element for the Marines.

  “Copy that, Icepick. Proceed to phase one starting location. How copy?” The drone moved in for the closest possible jump on the prototype.

  Icepick was the lead brute drone. Even if communications were somehow severed, Icepick could order the other brutes strategically without human intervention and was linked to five other subordinate drones.

  Icepick had a series of notches all down his left and right laser cannons, each notch confirming a kill in the North Korean war. A yellow notch indicated an enemy drone kill and red for a human kill. The tally seemed to be about even, with slightly more organic kills than machine, but he was running out of room on both sides.

  The other brute drones seemed fairly new by comparison to Icepick. They had shiny white armor panels, brand new guns, and only a few yellow notches here and there scattered between them.

  Each brute formed a linked spherical radius of sensors that blanketed Saven’s route to the installation. Casser watched the Marines grow more excited by the second.

  “Just like the last Crucible, their prototype can’t move past these sensor zones without us knowing it. Once it crosses, it’s over,” Garza said to one of her newer Marines, pointing at the screen.

  “Let’s hope their prototype is aggressive and we can leave that much sooner,” Belmont chimed.

  “That sensor zone trap gets Solarsystems almost every time,” Casser said, shaking his head.

  “Wonder why SolarSystems doesn’t alter their tactics?” Niven asked.

  “There’s not really much they can do.”

  “Why?” Niven asked.

  “Well, as you know, drones emit an electronic signature, a beacon… Unless they can find a way to mask it.” Casser shrugged.

  “Alright, countdown to the Crucible in fifteen minutes. We’re live in fifteen...” Agent Casser paged throughout the installation. Each party alerted their assets of the timer.

  Casser watched Saven’s mounted camera from the control room, as did Lucas and Keith in their station. It was difficult to tell what Saven was doing, his camera was facing down, like he was scaling a mountain.

  “He’s moving nearly forty miles an hour now,” Lucas observed his statistics onscreen.

  “That’s uphill and in heavy snow,” Keith replied.

  Lucas observed closely, moving his seat closer to the monitor, as did Keith. They could see Saven’s talons and legs flicker and disappear as they churned through the snow.

  “Is that a glitch in the camera feed? Look at his talons.” Lucas observed.

  “He’s cloaking. Yes, the wing-like structure on his back can conform to most any shape or color. It can cover his entire body for concealment or even fan out like an actual set of wings for gliding. We call them shards,” Keith explained.

  “So he would have to drop his cloak to glide?” Lucas questioned.

  “Yeah, if he’s using the shards to glide, obviously they’re not covering his body. So no camouflaging nor armor. He has to decide when to use them,” Keith concluded. The camera above Keith and Lucas had a small red light blinking on it, indicating that Casser’s team was listening in.

  “Hmm, interesting. I don’t like that Solarsystems’ prototype is limited by using armor or stealth, seems like a lot of decision making on the fly,” Niven noted.

  “How is a machine supposed to dynamically figure out which to use?” Casser questioned suspiciously. He watched Niven as a light bulb went off in his head.

  “Maybe they have an advanced form of artificial intelligence? Or… maybe it’s being remote controlled offsite?” Niven posed.

  “Possibly,” Casser said, poking out his bottom lip.

  Keith continued explaining it to Lucas while the agents listened in. “For instance, now, when cloaking, his fingertips analyze the properties of the terrain he’s touching, and he can project that color scheme throughout his body. Right now, he’s using white like the snow obviously,” Keith said, rubbing his own fingers together while explaining it.

  “And armor is the third option.”

  “Ah, I was wondering about this,” Lucas replied.

  “Yeah. The shards in this mode are doubled up around his vitals and sensors, providing extra protection,” Keith said.

  “Hopefully, he won’t need that here,” Lucas sighed.

  Keith glared at Lucas. “God, I hope not. We could have gone with a technology that allowed for all three simultaneously, but weight was a huge issue and we want him ultra-fast and agile,” Keith said.

  An armed guard patrolled the hall between Solarsystems and the Marines. Even in these war games, Marines were known to be aggressive to the competition. Some of them were even wearing war paint, so taking things too lightly was not a concern.

  Casser leaned in toward the mic. “Everyone is in position, starting in three... two... one… It’s a go! We are live fire, people,” Casser signaled over the installation’s old speaker box. “Good luck to both elements. Let’s be safe.”

  “Ooo-Rah!” the younger Marines shouted out as the drill started. Some of them had been training months for this moment, and it was probably the closest thing to combat they’d seen.

  “I don’t know why Casser uses that speaker box. Plenty of other ways to get in touch. He used that old relic in the last Crucible too,” Garza said, rubbing her neck.

  “Sounds like an old battleship’s 1MC intercom from the movies,” Belmont joked. “He probably loves this shit. Sitting up there, looking down on all the action. He’s probably got popcorn and snuggled up in a blankey,” Belmont said. Garza and some of the other Marines around them laughed.

  “Do they not understand we can hear them?” Casser questioned, throwing his hands up.

  “I’m not sure they care, sir,” Niven said, looking away.

  Belmont pointed toward the operator’s stations. “Alright, let’s go.” Garza was responsible for half of the computer stations as an overseer while Belmont took the others, dividing the responsibility. Their control room was set up in a “U” formation with an island monitor in the middle that allowed either overseer to take control as a drone operator or safety coordinator.

  “Icepick, move forward and maintain course at ninety degrees,” Garza ordered.

  Lucas peered through the heavy snow onscreen as Saven came to a stop at the top of the mountain. His breath wisped in the air as he panned around like a bird of prey stalking rodents.

  “Sniping angle?” Lucas said, watching Saven’s feed.

  “No idea,” Keith said. “He seems more exposed up there honestly.”

  “You’re just nervous. It’s natural. Listen, I’ve been up against some of the most terrifying weapons man has ever created, and I would not want to be on the opposite side of what you’ve concocted here,” Lucas sai
d, injecting a bit of confidence.

  “Well, coming from a Navy SEAL, I guess that’s not bad.”

  “A SEAL with plenty of experience against attack drones,” Lucas said.

  Keith sighed loudly, pulling his hair back while standing. He walked back and forth around the room, glancing at the camera every couple of seconds.

  Back over on the Marine’s side, Belmont paced the room too, scowling at each operator’s screen intensely. Once in a while, he’d pass a Marine and pat him on the back with a, “You good?”

  “Make sure you keep an eye out. Just because we have sensors doesn’t mean we should ignore the human element. Watch your video feed. That’s why it’s there. Use your eyes, that’s why God gave them to ya.” Belmont smiled, showing a mouth full of pearly white teeth seldom seen by his subordinates.

  Casser peered over at the veteran drone Icepick’s camera. He was moving above the maximum speed listed for a brute.

  “You know why the Marines call him Icepick?” Casser questioned as his crew watched on.

  No one said anything. They just stared at Casser, waiting for a response.

  “It’s like this weather doesn’t’ affect him. He’s singlehandedly accumulated the most prototype kills out here in this snow. It’s like home field advantage for him. The Marines usually keep him in and around the snow.”

  “Why would a drone prefer snow over another setting? That doesn’t make any sense,” Niven questioned with a puzzled look on his face.

  “Why does any person prefer the snow over any other setting? That doesn’t make sense. You’d have to be insane to like it over a beach in my opinion, but hey, there are plenty of people out there that do,” Casser pointed out.

  “But he’s a drone.”

  “So? People need heat to survive, yet many like being out in the freezing cold. Icepick doesn’t require much heat at all. I don’t know why, just like I don’t know why people do. Artificial Intelligence has its quirks, just as people do.”

  Agent Niven laughed. “Okay.”

  They watched on as Icepick burrowed through a set of drifts. His terrain navigation alerted him of possible route hazards and his fellow brute’s status. Every so often, he would stop to assess movement or heat signatures.