A.I. Assault (The A.I. Series Book 3)

by Vaughn Heppner

  He was walking down a corridor in the De Gama House. He’d entered the lair of the beast. Oh, he knew there were cameras recording everything. Guards had also frisked him, forcing him to surrender his sidearm. His venture into the heart of the GSB would soon become known to Justinian unless…

  Benz decided to think about something else. Four big guards surrounded him. Two marching in front and two brought up the rear. They had guns, but they obviously didn’t need weapons for the lone Inspector General. They could pretty much do whatever they wanted, or were ordered to do, to him.

  The five of them marched through long marble corridors. Famous and achingly expensive paintings hung from the walls, including the Mona Lisa. Just as the Roman Emperor Constantine had raided ancient cities for their treasures to beautify his city of Constantinople, the GSB had raided museums to add beauty to their temple of torture and degradation of the human spirit.

  The long march eventually led to the Chief Arbiter’s suite of offices.

  The four escorts left Benz in the hands of even bigger, tougher escorts. They spoke politely to the Inspector General, in the way that hyenas might speak to a lamb asking for directions. There was mockery in their manners, but there was a hint of caution as well. Maybe the Inspector General was here at the request of the Premier. It was just barely possible that Justinian’s purge of the secret police would resume.

  Shortly, the biggest guard ushered Benz into the inner sanctum of Chief Arbiter Indri Punjab. She was a tall woman born on the subcontinent of India. She had dark hair and skin and classically beautiful features. Rumor said she’d had her face bio-sculptured. If true, it was one of the best jobs Benz had ever seen. Indri Punjab also had a ruthless way of watching a person.

  She was watching Benz now. She broke eye contact long enough to rise from her desk, move to a large comfortable chair and sit in it. She indicated the other comfortable chair near hers.

  Benz headed for it.

  As he did, Indri snapped her fingers. The huge guard retreated, closing the door behind him.

  “This is unexpected, Inspector General.”

  “Please,” Benz said. “I’d prefer if you called me Frank.”

  She shook her head the slightest bit. “Inspector General will suffice for now. I’m afraid I do not desire to speak intimately with someone under the Premier’s scrutiny.”

  “Yet you’re speaking alone with me.”

  Indri smiled faintly. “Inspector General, you are well aware that we are being recorded.”

  Benz did not reply, but she was correct.

  Indri watched him like a cobra would a rat. Perhaps she was wondering at the prey’s boldness to march to his death.

  “This is all rather nerve-racking for me,” Benz said, as if admitting his fear. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

  “Your bio doesn’t indicate that filthy habit.”

  “Really? I’m surprised. I need a smoke when I’m nervous. I really would appreciate this one concession.”

  Indri Punjab studied him.

  Benz forced himself to act more nervous than was his wont.

  She must have believed she sensed weakness, which Benz had hoped would make her feel superior.

  “Yes, smoke,” she said, as if saying, “Let me witness your breakdown.”

  Benz removed a half-crumbled pack of cigarettes. They looked used, which was anything but the case. He put a cigarette between his lips, took out a matchbook, tore off a paper match and struck the red tip against the dark strip. He figured they would have taken a lighter during the pat down. A flame flared into existence. He touched the flame to the end of the cigarette and began to puff in a rather unseemly manner. He was careful to inhale nothing. Some of the drug in the smoke would sink into his mouth nevertheless. He’d ingested enough of a counter agent to counteract the drug’s effect. He’d also shoved nasal filters up his nostrils before entering the building. The filters were uncomfortable but necessary.

  Benz made the cigarette tip glow as he puffed more of the drugged smoke into the room.

  Soon enough, Indri Punjab waved a hand before her face. “It stinks.”

  “I’m sorry, but I appreciate your kind gesture. Do you have an ashtray?”

  She shook her head.

  Benz set the cigarette on a stand between the chairs. He let the cigarette end dangle so smoke trickled up from it.

  Indri watched him with her ruthless gaze. Soon, the ruthlessness remained but a slight glaze seemed to film her eyes.

  Benz waited, feeling increasingly lightheaded. Finally, he judged the Chief Arbiter ready to listen to reason.

  “I’d like to speak to you personally, man to woman. I would like to speak off the record, if I may.”

  “That is an unusual request,” she said woodenly.

  “I believe it would be in your best interest as well.”

  She appeared surprised, but finally nodded. “Yes. I think I understand.”

  She stood, swaying a moment. Benz dearly hoped she didn’t faint. He might have put too much drug into the air.

  “I feel lightheaded,” she said.

  “It will pass,” Benz said.

  She looked at him, smiling soon. “The feeling has gone.”

  “You feel much better,” he said.

  “That’s true.” She staggered to her desk. It was clear she was not better, but she believed that she was. That made all the difference. She opened a drawer and pressed some controls. Afterward, she practically collapsed into her chair. She’d shut off the video feed that recorded her office.

  “I feel grand,” she announced. “Don’t you feel grand, Inspector—”

  “Call me Frank,” he said, interrupting.

  “Frank?” she finished.

  “I want you to summon Vela Shaw to your office.”

  “When?”

  “Immediately.”

  “Is this in reference to her verbal threat against the Premier?”

  “Yes. I’m here as a representative of the Premier.”

  “Oh. I did not realize.”

  “I would never have come otherwise.”

  Indri nodded. “I knew that. Deep down, I knew that. Just a moment. Let me summon the would-be murderess.”

  After Indri Punjab gave the order over a comm, she resumed her seat beside Benz. “It is done. The killer will be here soon.”

  “Chief Arbiter, I have dreadful instructions for you. This is on the express order of the Premier. I have learned of a special safety feature installed into the De Gama House. Are you familiar with it?”

  “I have no idea what you mean.”

  “I thought not. The former Premier had it installed because of her distrust of Justinian. She never had a chance to employ the device. She might still be alive if she had.”

  “That sounds treasonous,” Indri said disapprovingly.

  “The device is a massive bomb. It’s embedded deep in the house. Once Vela Shaw arrives, you will order me to take her to the Premier. You will make this order in the presence of your chief guard. He will join me. After I leave De Gama House, you will detonate the bomb. I will tell you how to activate it, naturally. You will, of course, remain in your office.”

  “Will the bomb hurt me?”

  “It will not,” Benz lied. “This room is specially protected by advanced technology.”

  “I have never heard of that.”

  “Yet, it is true. You know that it is true. You are killing the traitors in this building, Chief Arbiter. You are working to save Justinian and thus, save your life, as well. You will do exactly as I have told you because it is for your own good.”

  “This is all amazing. I had no idea.”

  “That is why I came personally from the Premier’s office. I told the Premier about your loyalty.”

  “That was quite generous of you.”

  “I highly respect you, Chief Arbiter. I am risking my neck to help you. You will do these things…” Benz repeated his orders and told her how to activate the bomb.

>   The drug in the cigarette made a person highly prone to suggestion. Benz had developed the drug two years ago. It was one of several items he’d invented but never used until this moment. Using it like this…the destruction of De Gama House would create chaos. That would make Justinian more murderous. But this was the only way he could pull Vela Shaw to safety and keep it off the cameras. He had to destroy the recordings by destroying the building’s computer system, and, incidentally, many GSB agents. It was unfortunate many pieces of fine art would perish, but to Benz, human lives were more important than artwork.

  Sooner than Benz expected, a knock announced Vela Shaw’s arrival. She was wearing the orange jumpsuit of a prisoner. Benz hadn’t foreseen this complication.

  “You will take her immediately to the Premier’s office,” Indri said sternly.

  “She needs normal clothes,” Benz said.

  Indri blinked at him.

  “Are there regular garments here?” Benz asked.

  The Chief Arbiter pointed at a wall.

  “Get them,” Benz said.

  Woodenly, the Chief Arbiter turned to the wall, pressing hidden switches. The wall rose. Behind it was a bathroom, closet and other rooms.

  “Chief Arbiter…?” the big guard asked suspiciously.

  “Have them both come in,” Benz said.

  Indri ordered the guard and prisoner into the hidden area of her office.

  “Take his gun,” Benz said softly.

  “Give me your gun,” Indri ordered the huge guard.

  It seemed the man might argue. Finally, he drew the gun and handed it to Indri.

  “Give it to me,” Benz said.

  The Chief Arbiter did so.

  The guard opened his mouth to protest.

  Benz had been inspecting the heavy gun. He clicked off the safety, aimed the barrel at the guard’s chest and pulled the trigger five times. Five terrific booms sounded. Five heavy slugs shattered ribs and tore apart heart and lungs.

  Vela Shaw opened her mouth to scream as the guard flopped onto the floor, his torso a gory wreckage.

  Benz lowered the gun as smoke curled from the barrel. “You must listen to me,” he told Vela.

  She turned to him with her mouth hanging open, staring, obviously confused and frightened.

  Benz set the gun on the floor. “Chief Arbiter, help me drag the guard into the bathroom.”

  Indri Punjab woodenly obeyed. She and Benz dragged the limp corpse, leaving a trail of blood on the floor.

  Vela finally closed her mouth. She seemed to perceive that something strange was taking place, and that this strangeness aided her.

  Soon, Vela was dressed in regular garments, with a sheer red scarf tied around her neck. At Benz’s instructions, the Chief Arbiter closed the wall and waited for further instructions.

  “Do you remember what I told you earlier?” Benz asked her.

  “I do,” Indri intoned. She had clearly lost any free will, totally succumbing to the drug.

  “Do those things as soon as we leave the building,” Benz said.

  “I will,” Indri said like a robot.

  “Are you ready?” Benz asked Vela.

  “I don’t understand this,” she whispered.

  “You’re leaving with me.” Benz stared at her intently, hoping she understood. He didn’t care to say too much in front of the Chief Arbiter.

  Finally, Vela nodded.

  Benz grasped Vela’s left elbow, gently propelling her to the door. He opened it and pushed her into the reception area. Leaning forward near her left ear, he whispered, “Here goes.”

  ***

  The two of them made it out of the De Gama House. Benz hustled Vela to his air-car, and they zoomed upward. At that moment, a terrific explosion lifted De Gama House off its foundations. Brick and debris flew in all directions as smoke and ash shot up into the sky.

  The concussion rocked the air-car and almost plucked it out of the sky.

  Vela screamed.

  A big chunk of something hurtled past the car. Miraculously, that was it. Even so, the air-car rocked, dropped—Benz swore under his breath as he fought the controls. The underside scraped against the street. Everything vibrated in the vehicle. Then, the car shot up into the air.

  Vela screamed again as Benz veered hard enough to avoid a looming building. Finally, the air vehicle climbed into the sky.

  Below, what had once been De Gama House blazed with fire as a vast ashy cloud began to billow into more of the city.

  Vela finally closed her mouth. She stared down at the destroyed secret police headquarters. Afterward, she stared at Benz.

  “I don’t know how, but you caused that,” she said.

  Benz said nothing.

  “You did cause that, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Who are you?”

  “Frank Benz.”

  “The Inspector General of Earth?”

  He nodded.

  “How…Why…None of this makes sense.”

  “I know.”

  “Why did the GSB wait all this time to arrest me?”

  “Do you still want a crack at the Premier?”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Do you still want to kill J.P. Justinian for raping you?”

  The color drained from Vela’s features. Then, she blushed crimson. “You can’t be serious.”

  “You saw what happened to the De Gama House. I’m serious.”

  “But…but…how?”

  “I can show you how, but you have to want it.”

  She kept staring at him. “This isn’t real. We’re dead. You and me, we’re dead once they catch us.”

  Benz shook his head. “Why do you think I destroyed the De Gama House?”

  “Because you’re power mad,” she said.

  “No,” Benz said. “To cover our tracks. You looked at me in the Language Building. The GSB agents were holding your arms. I saw you pleading through your eyes for my help. This is it. I’m helping you. Now, are you willing to help me?”

  “To do what?”

  “Kill Justinian for one thing.”

  “And then?”

  “Take over,” Benz said.

  Her eyes had become wild. She shook her head. “I don’t see how I can help you.”

  “You can’t yet. But I can help you become…smarter.”

  “Are you insane, Inspector General?”

  “Think about it. I came in alone and weaponless to the De Gama House. I’m already under suspicion. I spoke to the Chief Arbiter. Why do you think the guards brought you to her office?”

  “I cannot fathom it.”

  “Because I told her to order it,” Benz said.

  “Just like that? You said it, and the terrible Indri Punjab obeyed?”

  “No, not just like that,” Benz said. “I smoked a cigarette first.”

  “Why does that matter?”

  “The cigarette contained a drug that makes people highly suggestible. The Chief Arbiter inhaled the drug. Then I told her what to do. That included detonating the De Gama House.”

  Vela stared at him and then abruptly turned away. “All those people are dead. You killed them.”

  “The GSB would have tortured you—”

  “I’m not talking about them,” Vela said sharply. “I’m talking about all those prisoners you slaughtered.”

  Benz squinted into the distance, finally nodding. “Yes. I consigned them to death. I have innocent blood on my hands. I’m guilty of murder. Before I pay for my crimes, I mean to save the human race, if I can.”

  “The noble Inspector General,” Vela said, scornfully.

  He turned to her. “Your response shows I’ve chosen correctly.”

  “What if I refuse to help a murderer like you?”

  He searched her face. His mind clicked over the possibilities. Finally, he looked away. She would not refuse to help him unless he said she had no choice. Then the core of stubbornness in her would lock her onto a destructive path
out of sheer mulishness.

  “I’m waiting for your answer,” she said.

  “I’m asking for your help, Vela. I need it.”

  She intertwined her fingers on her lap. At last, she nodded. “I’d like to see how you think we can do any of this. I’m game for the moment, and I am grateful you tore me out of the basement. I…I just hate thinking about all those innocent people who died today to cover our tracks.”

  Benz didn’t tell Vela that he might have been merciful. The tortures most of those innocents in the basement would have undergone… He didn’t know if Vela could accept such reasoning. She might be too wholesome for such thoughts.

  Banking the air-car, Benz began the long trip for a hidden place in the Rocky Mountains of North America.

  -7-

  They landed three times for recharging, the last time in Los Angeles. Benz had to invoke emergency powers that time. News of the obliteration of De Gama House had traveled around the planet several times. Already, Justinian had summoned other trusted GSB personnel, gathering in a hidden location in the Amazon Basin.

  The Premier was no doubt concocting plans within plans in response to this dreadful strike. Justinian would likely believe the attack had been a direct blow against his authority and against the purges.

  “You should take charge of the military,” Vela said.

  The two of them hurried down an old abandoned mineshaft in Colorado Sector. The air-car was just inside the mouth of the mine. They both wore masks and carried oxygen tanks. He used a powerful flashlight, taking a seemingly random path through the complex maze of tunnels.

  “You must know the whereabouts of the Premier’s hiding spot,” she added.

  “If it were that easy,” Benz said, “do you think I’d risk so much getting you here?”

  “From what I’ve seen and heard so far, you think several steps ahead of everyone.”

  “That’s true,” Benz admitted. The flashlight beam passed over a rocky formation beside ancient timber shoring up the shaft. It was cold down here.

  Vela was already hugging herself as she shivered.

  Benz advanced on the rocks, felt around and moved a lever. The rocks swung back, and his beam shone into a stainless steel corridor.

  “What is this place?” Vela asked.

  “Go,” he said. “I have generators. Once we reach them, I can turn on a heater.”