Gerry was losing his patience and irritation started to prickle at his skin. It was that or the heat. Now that he was out of the protection of City Earth’s dome and subsequent controlled microclimate, the natural rays of the sun were beginning to burn a little on his skin. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but it wasn’t helping him keep his cool.
Petal’s smile dropped, and she looked to the ground. “Sorry, Gez. Let me explain.” She bent down next to the corpse. She took a leather glove from a pocket on her combat trousers and put it on before reaching into the cavity of what was left of the guard’s head. The brain mulch squelched as she searched for something.
“See this here? You can plug directly into it and get into his AIA. It’s how he operated the terminal.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. If you know all this, why are you asking me to do it? And that’s disgusting, not to mention disrespectful.”
“He tried to kill us. What d’ya expect? A perfect burial?” Gabe said.
“You’re a priest. Shouldn’t you be like, you know…”
“I believe in no god, Gez. I’m a different kind of priest, and you’ll learn all this soon enough. Look, Petal’s storage is full to bursting. If she tries anything, all hell will break loose. And I’m not talking biblical hell here, not that you’d know about any of that. The Family have seen to that, haven’t they? Besides, this… thing ain’t no human. How many people do you know have port leads in their spinal column?”
That confused feeling washed over Gerry again. It was like they were all talking a different language. Finally losing his temper, he grabbed Gabriel by the lapels of his longer duster jacket. “Just explain why it’s me that has to do this. And tell me how. I don’t understand anything you’re saying. And what the hell is it if it’s not a person?”
“We call ’em ‘NearlyMen’. They’re a new design. Part of the Family’s security force for City Earth.”
“There’s no one left to get into the City since the Cataclysm, surely?”
“Who said they’re only trying to keep people out? Why do you think we were paying a bribe? Only way out to the abandoned lands is through this here gate system. Look, we’re running out of time. We’re being patient because this is your first time, but jack in and get on with it. Figure it out while you’re inside.”
Petal grabbed a lead from her backpack. She plugged one end into the gore-covered port inside the NearlyMan and the other into the jack socket in Gerry’s neck.
His natural reaction was to jerk away, but Gabriel held him tight and whispered into his ear. “Use your algorithm skills to sniff out the security protocol, Gez. When inside, disable the alarm and open the gate. You’ll see inside clearly enough. These NearlyMen don’t have much else going on in there.”
Before he could speak, his brain pulsed like it was trying to escape his skull from the inside. A burning white pain shot through his eye nerves, and he twitched uncontrollably as he connected with the NearlyMan’s AIA.
Gerry didn’t see it as much as he felt it. A black entity of sorts hovering in the corner of an empty room. He mentally approached it and thought of a way to communicate with it. Outside of his mind, everything had dulled to a low hum. Even the heat on his skin from the sun was now just a fading memory. It was just him and the intelligent program.
In a sweet female voice, it spoke to Gerry. “You’ve been a naughty boy. Daddy will not be happy.”
Gerry ignored it and continued to probe for a way past its security system. Each check, each test was rebuffed with error code #2501: insufficient talent.
It was mocking him.
Reaching out his mind and thinking back to the code samples he remembered from the exploits book, he pictured a complicated algorithm and sent it towards the security module. He felt his heartbeat increase. The AIA processed his thoughts as though they were executable code. It took Gerry’s breath away. He’d never felt anything so… immediate.
Excited, he threw more code at it. Unburdened by having to type or speak code and waiting for it to compile like his daily work back at Cemprom, he just thought his code and there it was, unfolding, executing, running.
“You know, little boy, I’m starting to like you,” the AIA said.
It was becoming overwhelmed with Gerry’s code viruses. He felt the first layer of security break down, and he extended his thoughts further into the darkened room: a representation of the NearlyMan’s storage drive. The AIA recognised Gerry as an owner of the system, and he was free to explore its contents as if he were the guard.
The first thing he did was switch the flag on the AIA’s speech file to Off. That was trivial. Next up was the alarm system. Luckily, it was like Gabe had said. There was very little in this system. Apart from the AIA’s protected files and the guard’s personality profile and behaviour instructions, there were just two areas left: the alarm protocols and one named Personal.
Intrigued, Gerry opened the latter section. Inside, a gallery of images floated up in his mind. There were thousands of the same two scenes from the limited view from the tower. Some looking towards City Earth, others looking away. Of those looking away, Gerry noticed specks of dark colour on the horizon. He flicked through them in time order, the specks growing larger, until the later images showed what looked… no, couldn’t be… a group of women and men dressed in what looked like furs and leathers. Some sported riflelike weapons, while others had wires, antennae, and dish shaped objects mounted upon their person.
People.
Other people from the abandoned lands.
Unbelievable. But there it was, right there in the AIA. Hard proof. This meant the Family had lied. Growing up, Gerry was taught that all the survivors from the Cataclysm—which was never fully explained—were in City Earth and there was no one left outside.
What else was a lie?
Gerry casually switched off the alarm system, exited from the AIA, and pulled the plug from his neck. He looked at Petal and Gabe, who in turn looked at him like feverish cats.
“They lied,” Gerry said before slumping to the ground, clutching his head as a bolt ripped through his brain.
Chapter 8
Petal shook his arm. “You okay, Gez?”
He blinked, saw her face hovering over his, blotting out the sun. Her goggles were clear. Her eyes were bright violet this time. They shimmered like the surface of a lake. Before he could speak, her goggles turned opaque again, cutting him off from those amazing colours.
“We don’t have much time,” she said with a whisper.
Her skin seemed paler than usual. Her hand felt clammy against his skin.
He wanted to ask what would happen if she could no longer hold the demons, but the pained expression on her face told him it wasn’t going to be anything good.
“It’s done,” he finally said. “I managed to switch off the alarm system. But I—”
“What is it?” Gabe said. He lifted Gerry to his feet and held him by his shoulders. He peered directly into Gerry’s eyes with fervour.
“People. I saw pictures of… other people.”
“Yeah, about them.” Gabe rubbed his face. “Not everything the Family has told you is true. Well, hardly anything at all, as it happens. There’s a few survivors out here. Ya gonna meet some real soon. ’Specially now you handled the alarm system. I’m impressed, man. That was slick. Ya picking this up quickly.”
“Who are we going to see?” Gerry asked.
“Some old buddies of a sort. Reload your gun. Ya know, just in case.”
Petal took a piece of brain fragment from the corpse and tossed it against the filament fence. It just hit the wires and fell to the ground.
“It’s all safe. We need to get going. I don’t think I’ve got much time.”
Gerry reloaded his gun from the ammo pack in his bag. As they moved towards the fence, he bent and picked up the heavy shotgun from the guard and placed it in his bag. He wasn’t sure whether it would be any use without more shells, and he had little ti
me to search for them, but it couldn’t hurt to take it with them just in case.
Gabriel bent over, stepped through the gap in the wire fence, and Gerry and Petal followed. Up ahead on the horizon a rust-red cloud billowed up. A low growling noise rumbled on the wind.
Gerry turned to Petal, who was now moving much slower, wincing at each step. “That your friends?” He pointed to the scenes of movement ahead.
Petal nodded. “Kinda.” She extended the chromed spike from her palm and gritted her teeth. “Just watch your back, Gez. These aren’t the same as the people back in City Earth.”
“Got it.”
“Seriously,” Petal said. “Out here things ain’t so polite. You ain’t got security looking out for you either. It’s like the Wild West, Gez.”
Gabe continued to walk onwards, setting a quick pace. They travelled for fifteen minutes until the cloud was no more than a few hundred metres away. The small, squat buildings Gerry saw before now held more detail.
Plates of metal, wood, and wire mesh covered their surface. Spikes the size of a man extended out from their perimeter. A fence stretched for half a kilometre either side of this makeshift town. A tall gate sat in the middle—partially open.
From the gap, a series of vehicles, bikes, trikes, and large-wheeled buggies streamed out. Their drivers wore little apart from partial furs and goggles.
Gerry swallowed, wanting to wash it down with the water Gabe had brought, but realised he’d only been out of the Dome for a short while and the others showed no sign of needing refreshment. He didn’t want to look so weak so soon.
The sun bore down on him, seemingly cooking his skin to a crisp. How Gabriel could suffer wearing his leather duster coat, Gerry had no idea. He’d taken off his own coat as soon as they got through the fence and rolled his sleeves up to his shoulders, yet he was still sweating as if in a sauna.
“Hot for spring,” Gerry said.
“It ain’t usual,” Petal said. “Make the most of it. Usually it’s just cold and dry.”
Petal held up her hand to shield the light from her goggles and stared out at the oncoming cavalcade.
He didn’t like the silence from Gabe or Petal. Both just stared right ahead, watching the group of survivors get closer. Gerry wondered what to call them. Were they survivors? Was their little town a country or city of its own? Who ruled over it? How did they grow food? Myriad questions flowed through his mind as he attempted to beat down the nerves that grew more strained as they drew ever closer. He asked the questions to Petal, wanting to break the tense silence that had built up.
Petal turned to Gerry. “They call themselves Bachians. Bachia was a province in this area many decades ago. They’re small provincials with smaller minds.”
“You said they were your buddies?”
“Hah, that was Gabe. He was being sarcastic. Our last interaction with them wasn’t so good. As for food, it’s like most of us out here: soy protein and occasionally corn. Few crops grow, or survive, for long in the poisoned soil. It’s getting better, though. The soy filters out a lot of the heavy metals and radiation. There’s all kinds of recipes now.”
“Sounds, erm… nice.”
“It’s shit for the most part,” Petal said. “Sometimes we get lucky and find some of the freeze-dried ration packs on our travels. Usually we just steal food from the Dome, as do the Bachians.”
Gerry raised an eyebrow, questioning.
“Yeah, that’s where they get a lot of their resources. Tunnels, Gez. And like I said before, the Family tolerate them to a degree.”
Gerry wanted to probe her for more information, but she cut off as they came closer. Finally, she said, “We’ll need their help. Old Grey’s in their possession.”
“Old Grey?”
Petal nodded, displaying her lupine smile. “You’ll fill your pants when you get a load of Old Grey. She’s been around longer than all of us. Well, apart from Gabe, that is. Never met anyone or anything older than him.” She cackled as Gabe turned his head at the sound of her voice.
“So who is this Old Grey? A survivor from before the Cataclysm?”
“Kinda. It’s a computer. An ancient AI-based server with a hard-on for malicious code. It’s where I unload my storage. She’s super rare. These Bachians worship her like a god.”
Gerry thought of the possibilities: if this computer was as old as Petal said, it would have petabytes of information about the world before the Cataclysm, before the Family and the building of City Earth. “Can you get access to its data storage?”
“Haha, you’re a funny guy, Gez. I admire your ambition. Nah, Old Grey is tight as a gnat’s ass. Access to her is tightly controlled.”
“What about remote access?”
Petal stopped, pulling at Gerry’s elbow. “Why’re you so interested?”
“I want the truth. What you and Gabe have highlighted for me recently is just how much bullshit we’ve been fed by the Family. Despite City Earth supposedly being a utopia, it seems someone is desperate to bring it down. I’d like to know why.” If he could find out what happened, maybe he could understand the Family. Understand their control. At the heart of that was another central question that he often wondered about. Who was he, really?
“Well, I’m all for shady shenanigans, but if you’re planning anything, wait until I’ve downloaded all this crap. I don’t want to be cut off mid-dump.”
“Eloquent.”
“I mean it, Gez. I get you’re angry and want answers, but be patient, yeah?”
“Sure. I’m sorry. This is all new to me. I’m just trying to find my bearings.”
“Come on. Let’s go meet some Bachians. And a dear old enemy. You think your mind is blown now, wait till you meet Bilanko. She’s the guardian of Old Grey. Freaks me out every time we have to meet her. Assuming she’s still there.”
“Why’s that such a problem? Move around much, does she?”
“Yup. Never in the same place for more than a few days. Always seeking information, bartering, dealing, analysing.”
The sound of their engines grew above Petal’s voice. Vibrations from their movement juddered through the ground and up into Gerry’s legs. How could they stand the noise and the dust? It was a far cry from the clean, quiet, electric vehicles back home. And yet, despite that, there was something alluring about the smoke-belching, loud, rough machines. It was a display of power that you just don’t get with the cold efficiency of electric.
“How are they fuelling the engines?” Gerry asked.
“H-core, Gez. Altered hydrogen fuel cells taken from the electric vehicles that got screwed up in the EMP. That and a highly unstable mix of fermented soy oil. Not many vehicles around anymore, at least not ones that are serviceable. Too many dead electronics, you see. What’s left are make-dos like the Bachia stuff here. Further afield I saw a few aircraft and trucks. Most of them were fixed and repaired, running off hydrogen fuel. The Bachian’s have got a small refinery they use to get hydrogen from rain.”
“What rain?” Gerry asked, surveying the dry, cracked earth for as far as he could see. It clearly hadn’t rained in some time.
“Exactly,” Petal said. “Hence why this lot don’t travel very far, and why in general there’s so few vehicles. Commodities, Gez, they are rare. Or at least the ones that can’t be stolen from the Family.”
“So how they get water?”
“There’s a few wells. Most settlements are usually around them. It’s like the old days back in Africa. We go where the water is—or where we’re not likely to get killed. They purify it here, too. Carbon filters and a natural trap with soy plants to take out the dangerous stuff.”
Gerry could already feel his throat getting dry.
The group of vehicles, ten of them in total, pulled up a few feet from Gabriel, who was now some ten metres or so ahead of Gerry and Petal. Gerry wanted to speed up and make ground, but Petal was slowing down, stumbling, and he couldn’t leave her behind. Gabe had seemingly trusted Gerry to look af
ter her as he met with the group first.
A wiry, bald man hopped out of the cage that surrounded his buggy. His ragged and dusty leather jerkin flapped in the wind. He wiped the red dirt from his goggles and grinned as he stretched out a hand to Gabriel.
Gabe slapped it away with his left hand and punched the man in the face, splitting his nose with a vicious right jab.
A whoop of cheers and laughter erupted from the group.
Gerry and Petal caught up with Gabe and stood by his side as he spoke to the group.
“I’ve got two thousand bins for the first person to give me their vehicle and the address of Bilanko Barnabas.”
The goggled heads turned to each other while the man on the ground rolled over onto his back with a grimace. He spat out a tooth and a gob of blood before speaking. “Gabriel, old pal, old chum, why didn’t you just say that’s what you wanted? I’d have been more than willing to—”
Gabriel kicked the man in the ribs. A loud crack sounded, and the man yelped.
Reaching out, Gerry grabbed Gabriel by the shoulder. “Gabe, what’s going on?”
“It’s okay, now, man. I’ve got this.”
“Don’t interfere, Gez,” Petal said. “There’s bad blood here.”
“Well? I’m waiting,” Gabe said to the gang. “Either you take my generous offer or Spitty here ceases to be one of your number.”
None of the group spoke. Some looked away while others looked at each other, confused.
There was movement from the back of the pack. A woman in tall boots and a fur skirt sauntered to the front between the vehicles. She carried a blade as long as her leg in her gloved right hand. A chain mail guard covered her shoulder and upper arm.
“Two thou’ you say?” She flicked her short-cropped dark hair from her face, exposing almond-shaped brown eyes, which narrowed as she examined Gabe. Her hips pushed out in a provocative stance. “That all you got, Mr Techxorcist Man?”
“Hmm. Maybe for you, I’ve got a little something extra—if you can get me to Bilanko right away without any pissing about.”
Code Breakers: Alpha Page 6
