by Travis Borne
“Man,” Jerry said, “can we fight that many, Herald?”
“Not a chance,” Herald replied, looking over to Jerry who was standing in the aisle, holding onto the upper rails. “And it looks like we can no longer hide. We need a plan, now.” He knew they didn’t have more than ten minutes. The incoming force was shredding air.
Jay didn’t hesitate. He turned the ship dead south and increased speed to max continuous: Mach-1.5.
“Take us to Mach-2, Jay,” Herald said, head down, thinking, fingers rubbing his chin. Jerry jumped into a seat, then Jay accelerated. Herald looked up, neck muscles clenching as the G-forces increased. The engine temperature gauge quickly started rising.
“Engines at maximum, they won’t last long at this speed,” Jay said.
Herald waved the magnified section of the view port to the side and pointed. “I have an idea—but we have to separate.” It was a luscious green area of mountains splotching the desert, at least thirty miles past a small burning city. Fortunately, the navigation was returning. The intelligent systems had finished compensating for the change in Earth’s tilt and magnetic field. Ahead, a green section, high altitude. The display labeled it Cibola National Forest. The city below was ablaze, in ruins, they’d just passed over Socorro, New Mexico.
The reaction of the group was against the decision of splitting up, especially after all they’d been through together. They were a team now. But the engine’s temperature gauge was halfway up and steadily rising into the red—and the incoming horde was advancing swiftly. The magnified section of the window displayed the approaching ships tracking them, and this time, they weren’t only small drones.
“We bought a little time with this speed but we can’t hold it,” Jay said. They quickly approached the green mountain range, like a jewel in the desert, 10,000-foot peaks and a pine forest.
“Slow us down. Land right…there,” Herald said. He pointed to a small field surrounded by trees high on the largest mountain. There was a gate on a dirt access road next to it, and beyond it the winding road continued to the peak. He turned to face the group as Jay maneuvered in. “I’m at a loss this time—and I’m sorry. I don’t have a solution to this and they’ll be on us in about ten minutes. I can’t risk them getting to Amy. So, for now I want you—” He looked to Jerry. “—to take Amy, your blockers, supplies, and hide. Jon, Jodi, Valerie, and Felix please go also, hide and protect her, and we’ll be right back. Rafael will start transmitting a signal in about twenty minutes and it will stop the attack—we hope.” He looked to Red, then over to Manny—the better lender. Red sat with his zebra-striped red and white face, the blood now dry. They were coherent, barely, and still shaking, without a clue about what happened earlier—definitely not ready to log in again and they’d be a drag on the those staying. He looked to Felix. “Actually—Felix, I’m going to need you here with me. Do you dream?”
“Uh. Si, Señor,” Felix responded curiously, “tengo muchos sueños. Cada noche. Pero, por que—”
But Herald had no time to explain. “Good. Please stay with me. I’ll need you to lend. My lenders are down.” Valerie tugged at her father in disagreement, urging him to leave the ship with her. Felix had an uncertain look, but nodded in agreement with Herald.
“Oh, I don’t know, man,” Jerry said. “I think we should stay together.”
“I can’t leave her. No puedo,” Felix said softly to Valerie. He glanced over to Rosita’s body then looked seriously into his daughter’s eyes and held her shoulders firmly. Valerie understood, and she knew he didn’t want to leave her mother—he wouldn’t. They hugged each other and said their goodbyes—quickly this time. And quickly, Valerie wanted off the ship.
“It’s the only way, Jerry,” Herald said. “Please do whatever it takes to keep Amy safe, she is more important than you realize right now.” He knew the four plus Amy would make a good team. Small enough to remain undetected, yet resourceful, and strong enough to protect her, and with the blockers they would be able to hide rather easily. “I’m counting on you four. We’ll distract the incoming horde, and evade as long as we can. And I think we can do it but—” He knew he needed Felix. “Jon, get him logged in before we land.”
Herald hoped Felix was a hell of a dreamer, that he really did hide in a bunker during the cleansing, because the system wouldn’t work otherwise, he’d just drag it down, suck the feed away. Jon got him up and led Felix to the empty lender casing. He injected him with a sedative so he wouldn’t wake with the turbulence, same as the others had used, then began the login procedure. The sleep pad knocked him out quickly.
The ship touched down. Goodbyes were short, as they had to be. Amy was still happy but didn’t quite know what was happening. Her eyes twitched as though she couldn’t focus. She didn’t say goodbye, Daddy as Herald kissed her forehead. He wanted to hear her voice but she didn’t speak, just giggled.
“I’ll be right back for you, Sweetie Pie,” he said. Still, she only smiled cheerfully, and tears had dried on her face. He knew she wasn’t herself after the unexpected logout. Most likely amnesia had gotten to her, just as it did with those in the early trials. Usually, memories would come back, but she was so young. In her case, he just didn’t know. Terrible circumstances—what I had to do. He cried inside. It pained his heart as if a knife was twisting into it.
Jerry held Amy tight and the five of them descended the ramp. They rushed down the sloping grassy meadow. At the gravel road they turned, following it farther down the mountain. When Jerry reached a dense area of pines near some grey boulders, he stopped to look back one last time. Amy waved. The others mimicked Jerry’s gaze, somberly watching the hover-jet depart. The ship whistled away, while a distant, intensifying rumble could be heard.
Herald leapt into the other pilot seat. Just him and Jay up front. He wiped his face, which now had more than just one tear. “Jay, let’s do this. Give me your best.” He momentarily looked back to Ana, lending. How am I going to break the news to her? It had to be done. I had to make a decision. It was the only way to completely ensure her safety. And as the others saw the full scope of what headed their way, they knew it too.
The hover-jet unleashed its double sonic boom. On the ground looking up—they knew. It was gone. And quickly the eerie rumble was no longer distant. It became a full-blown roar. A moment later the assailants flew over the forest. A million heavy-metal records playing backward in slow motion, amplified by Brobdingnagian bullhorns. The horde dragged pine-bending winds. Snaps from two-foot-thick trees were a thousand bones breaking. Eardrums popped, air was hijacked from lungs, and thoughts were a labyrinth of mirrors taking monster-truck madness. This swarm was by far more intimidating than what they’d witnessed in El Paso. It contained chrome, tractor-tire-sized, saucer-shaped drones, and military secret weapons. And in formation like omnipresent algorithms were the armed fighter-jets, capable of Mach-3! Jerry reached over to hold Amy’s ears while trying to cover at least one of his own with his shoulder, and the others held theirs. The cacophony roared not unlike a category-5 tornado filled with runaway locomotives.
Before madness finally slipped out from the padded white room, a few small drones descended. They paused, looked around. One neared the team—the side of a massive boulder shielding four adults and a three-year-old girl. The drone crept to one side, tilted to view the sloping mountainside full of thick brush and pines, and then to the other.
Only two feet away. Humming.
Jodi and Jon had their back to one side of the cool stone, Jerry the other, with Valerie in the middle.
Why won’t it just leave!
They froze, even breathing. Amy smiled. Val reached up to cover her mouth. She giggled. Valerie squeezed tighter, almost painfully, muffling it. And Jerry steeled himself, fists clenched.
It seemed to be sensing, searching—but after a minute that was a year, it finally departed. And all of the sniffing stragglers rose together. As a separate swarm, like the bottom layer of a disastrously pernicious, p
oisonous cake, they joined the deafening mass.
And then it was gone. And the winds settled. And the orange sky was wiped clean. And thousands, millions, assumed chase after the lone hover-jet.
“Floor it, Jay!” They brought the already tortured ship to max speed—then pushed it beyond that. “Give me everything you’ve got!” Herald yelled. They decided to take it as high as possible. To space!
They dodged and evaded, maneuvering wildly, then Herald deployed all remaining buzzers, even the flippers; like monkeys without a parachute they made a sacrifice, attempting to take out at least one. The lasers were experimental, hadn’t been tested. No choice but to employ them too—at possible detriment to the ship’s power supply, a rupture. They worked! And four aft lasers zapped the trailing horde. Yet they had no choice but to fly higher, longer, and farther. Come on, Rafael. Come on. We need that signal, now! Evading the horde drove them far to the southwest—way too far. There were just too many.
Herald never intended to travel so distant from Amy. As they descended from the boundary of space at near Mach-3 with exhausted engines, the Pacific Ocean quickly came into view—an unwelcome sight. Under it, miles away, a smoldering sea, the navigation confirmed: San Francisco. But they could already tell. The towers of the Golden Gate Bridge and the tops of buildings were somber grave markers, protruding mere feet from the ocean’s new level. The sea steamed as if a mountain-sized crock pot had exploded, and boiled as if the seafloor was a hotplate. The steam rose into the sky as would an upside-down waterfall and as it hit the stratosphere, grey puffy clouds expanded umbrella-like. America had a new coastline, miles in! An alarm sounded for the umpteenth time—engines in the RED, again. Herald silenced it by punching the button with his fist. But then—it came. And just in time.
Rafael must’ve done it!
It was odd how the attackers just stopped, and they knew it couldn’t be anything else. The swarm fell back and dissipated like mindless zombies. The signal came at 7:59 a.m. Success! Had it been a minute longer, on time, they would’ve been done for.
The hover-jet had taken a lot of damage, too much. The engines were overheated and they’d taken many hits. Not a single one of the buzzers or flippers had made it back—they’d done their duty—saved them. But it was everything that worked together to create the sliver of advantage, and the win. And Herald knew, sadly, a reduction of weight was one of the factors. I should have left the builder, kept the team together, but I didn’t know. I DIDN’T KNOW! And the blocker might not have been able to hide the builder’s mass. I couldn’t have known that we’d make it. It was too close to call.
The horde, operating as a single cognitive entity, had driven them like a million cowboys rustling only one cow, a cow that really, had no chance. They’d been out-gunned and outnumbered, and the assailants had faster jets. They were overwhelmed, a trillion-to-one odds. So, they had no choice but retreat continuously, hundreds of miles away, or be destroyed. But they made it. With clever thinking and unprecedented maneuvering, they had eluded the force long enough. Peace, for as long as that signal would hold. How long? No one, not even Rafael could foresee...
They used the last of the hover-jet’s power to level out then turned around. Skimming the ocean, dodging building tips, they hovered slowly. A limping turtle, back to dry land. The jets were toast. That final descent was their last stand, and the last burst of speed they would be seeing for a good while. After landing on the nearest sliver of earth, Ana and Felix were logged out. And they all stepped outside, feeling lost and helpless. Manny and Red were messed up, worse than Herald had first realized. Then Felix came forward with a suggestion. He knew of a special place nearby, in a tiny Mexican town, farther south, packed to the brim with supplies and tools, guns and ammo, and honest people—where they could hide and rebuild, and repair.
His bunker. Pueblo Viejo.
The signal lasted long enough for the US military—mere handfuls of men and women—to regroup, and a small sliver of the planet had relief from the scourge. It lasted longer than any of them imagined it would have, and every minute brought a greater chance for survival, allowing for recovery, rebuilding, and preparations. Planes and automobiles were stripped of computers and reverse engineered to be exclusively manual—powered by humans. Back to the Stone Age.
Herald and the remaining crew (Ana, Q, Ted, Lia, Felix, Red and Manny) eventually repaired the quantum communicator—discreet and undetectable communication was a must from that day forward. It had been tossed about the ship during their evasive maneuvers. And they made contact with Rafael, then the military. With Ana at his side, Herald went on to become the last leader of all mankind. Just like the team in the hover-jet that fateful day, the rest of humanity followed him undoubtedly.
And then he unleashed the builders, and they did what they were made to do. They built! He spread his vision and kept many secrets—allowing only Ana and Q to know specific details henceforth. And he controlled an army of machines—all ALIVE with a lent, and licensed consciousness. Together they created that chance he had imagined long ago. He did it. He saved the human race from extinction—for now.
Amy never left his mind, and with Ana at his side, they never stopped searching. No, unfortunately things didn’t go as planned, they rarely do, and when he was able to return to the Cibola Mountains where he’d left them, he searched. And he searched, and searched. Amy and the group were nowhere to be found. They were—blocked. Ana never blamed him, nor did the others. Herald did what he had to do. He made a tough decision. And his mission was—from that day forward—and nothing else mattered—find Amy!
107. Part VI - Mud Pig's Just Desserts
Jim awoke. His eyes opened and he drew in a slow, pensive breath then rose to his feet. The room was full with every lender and overflowing with emotions. Cries of joy, happiness, and euphoria flooded the air. Sadness lingered, but Amy was in a sense present and even upon death, made sure bad feelings stayed beneath the rest. Jim knew, it’s what she would’ve wanted. And he looked to her bed, the ash, and down at the fallen robotic arm. He was destroyed over that damn choice, her sacrifice, and although he knew he should feel anguish over what had happened—right now he couldn’t. His imagination was an exploding fireworks finale. He saw colors he’d never seen before, felt feelings that melted his heart with elation, to a depth he couldn’t have realized previously. It was as if he could reach inside his own mind with his own physical hands and grab emotions, fly through his experiences, indulge insatiable curiosity; the feeling was empowering, liberating, and overwhelming.
“Jim,” Ted said, arriving at his side. He paused, smiling larger than Jim had ever seen—Ted has teeth—then hugged him. “It feels—” Ted obviously had no scientific explanation, likewise any string of data to describe it. “—amazing!” He wasn’t his usual monotone self. He was exploding with the very same burst of creativity. “Are you okay, Jim?”
“I will be, Ted. I need a minute.”
“We all feel it. It’s, it’s what we’ve been missing. And there’s a ship outside. It came to rescue us! Saved us all.”
His head was now jam-packed. It was Amy’s gift, he supposed. He knew everything, and more—or so he thought he did. He knew of Herald’s life and many minute details. He knew Amy as if he had lived her life. He knew it all from her last moment in the cave and back to her birth. And the second she arrived to Jewel City and beyond, as if he had lived in her shoes, as if he was once the cheerful and very special young woman. There was a lacuna to this knowledge, however, but he put things together like other times in his life; he took it all in, added everything up and surmised. Intuition on overdrive. Then he thought about the ship Ted mentioned. “Ted, can you put it on screen? I want to take a look.”
“Sure, we’re patched in with Rico. Come on, let’s head over.”
Rico was on screen, spinning while staggering, in awe of the panels in the control room—the smaller HAT was electrified like a sparking brain and all other screens were actively r
unning codes—and Jim snagged his attention, “Rico.”
“Jim, you’re okay!” Rico said. “What happened to Amy?”
“Long story, but I don’t know exactly. I’m getting a bad feeling, Rico. Patch us a video of the outside. And don’t head out yet.”
“We’ve already sent a runner. I think we’re good to go. Here, I’ll patch you in. All cameras are operational again. You’re in for one hell of a view.”
He patched the feed to the large HAT at the BROCC. It was magnificent, a monstrous ship half the size of the park. Rescue #486 its panels read, and its hull was littered with myriad flags, logos, and striping. The runner could be seen darting toward it. He bolted up the ramp and disappeared inside, running past waving people in orange jumpsuits. They changed, first time since, smiling big as he passed them by. Less than ten seconds later the runner returned with the same smile and stood on the ramp, waving toward the facility with both arms.
“Yes! I knew it,” Rico continued. “Open the safe room, let’s go people, quickly, all aboard!” He changed the status to a very welcome green and people flooded out.
“Rico, no. Wait!” Jim yelled. Everyone gathered around Jim at the HAT to watch.
“I feel it too,” Ted added. And they all, having been affected by the purple electricity, agreed. They felt the same disturbing vibe: an eerie suspicion, intuition perhaps, something wasn’t right.
“Don’t you see, Jim?” Rico affirmed. “It’s like you said, we have to take charge, make our own decisions. The runner, he’s right there with them, waving us in. We are finally saved.” The automation was blaring, telling Rico to wait, yet he no longer wanted to listen.
People were dashing toward the ship. Standing aside, the security team and a few members from the town panel formed lines to control the flow, and two by two people went up the ramp and into the darkness of its insides. And a few others came out, including the anxious Kim Mills, and like the runner they began to wave everybody in. It was a powerful affirmation, and joy abound.
