Marmon and Ramone stood on the observation deck that overlooked the hangar and the frenzied activity below them. They leaned forward, hands stretched out on the glass balcony that surrounded the platform on which they stood.
“We are registering significant progress with the fifth battalion. Several of the troops have reported sightings,” Ramone said softly.
“Good. We will prevail,” Marmon looked across the vast facility.
They both held the operation together with the tightest of grips. No one, from the soldier on the floor to the first minister, was in any doubt that they were in charge. This was their mission and they would succeed. Whatever the cost. They would often walk the facility, from its recruiting laboratory, to the training and simulation rooms and regularly across the floor of the hangar where troops were ready to launch attacks.
Occasionally to remind themselves of the gravity of their cause and the plight of humanity they would walk to the coffin room. There they would watch the dead being processed for safe disposal. Many thousands of the corpse processing facilities existed now, required by regulation of the Plague Act that Parliament had imposed under emergency powers two years before.
The information holograph rotated as it hovered high above the hangars floor. It beamed data updates to keep the legions below informed and inspired. It issued instructions and alerts.
Marmon checked the floating screen to read latest status reports. He was most interested and had been for six months in the screen which had the legend ‘TRACKING STATUS’. It read;
OLIVER HARRIS; - - Status – CONTACT – TX01
JENNY SMITH; - - Status – TRACKING – TX02
JAMIE PRESTWICK; - - Status – TRACKING – TX03
ALAN HOWARD; - - Status – TRACKING – TX04
MARY ROBINSON; - -Status – TRACKING – TX05
A sudden increase in noise from the floor drew Marmon’s attention. He held his hand to his ear and touched a silver communications ‘stud’ pierced into his ear lobe.
“Report,” Marmon commanded.
Ramone also listened through his own device, “Contact and engagement, confirmation.”
“Execute,” Marmon said coldly.
They stood in silence for what seemed a lifetime to them. They watched the floor and the gathered activity around one of their enhanced conscripts.
“Success,” Ramone said as a huge cheer rose up from the floor of the facility. Marmon and he shook hands and warmly embraced. They turned to read the information hub, it read;
ROBERT JOHN DYER; -ENGAGED 11:03- Status– DELETED – TX00
27.
Tempus Genesis Page 34
